‘‘Not for food.’’
‘‘Rand, someone might come by.’’
‘‘Not here. See how secluded we are.’’
‘‘You planned for this?’’ Her voice squeaked on the last word. No others were needed.
Some time later he lay with his head in her lap, staring up at the canopy of sun-speckled leaves. ‘‘You know what?’’
‘‘No, what?’’
‘‘We’ve never done this before.’’
‘‘I know.’’ She could feel her cheeks flaming all over again.
‘‘Picnics with just the two of us should happen more often.’’
‘‘I couldn’t agree more.’’ She reached for the saddlebags. ‘‘But now I am hungry.’’ She batted his shoulder, laughter dancing in the sun motes. ‘‘Aren’t you?’’
‘‘Ravenous.’’
‘‘Ah, Rand, how I love you.’’
‘‘Good.’’ He swung himself to a sitting position. ‘‘Let’s keep it that way.’’
They ate their sandwiches, tossing a bit of bread to a curious sparrow. Conversation roamed like the cattle on the plains, grazing here, trailing there.
She’d put things back in the saddlebag when she glanced over to see him watching her. ‘‘What?’’
‘‘I think there is something else we need to talk about.’’
‘‘Oh-oh. Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?’’
Rand rubbed his upper lip under his mustache. ‘‘Opal came to me the other day.’’
‘‘Why to you?’’
‘‘She was asking for help in how to bring up something with you. She hates to upset you. You know that.’’
‘‘I knew I wasn’t going to like it.’’
‘‘She heard that Mr. Finch has returned to teach school again this fall.’’
‘‘Oh, rot.’’ Ruby sighed and studied the black beetle strolling the horse blanket, catching a foot in the coarse weave, shaking free, and continuing. Why did her sister so often make her feel like that beetle? ‘‘She has to go to school.’’
‘‘No, she doesn’t. She’s completed the requirements through eighth grade, and Mr. Finch makes her help with the younger children instead of teaching her and the older girls.’’
‘‘Then we need to talk with him, explain that they aren’t there to teach but to learn.’’
‘‘I don’t think it’s that easy.’’
‘‘Rand, are you taking her side?’’ She bit back the ‘‘again.’’ While she tried to keep the steel from her voice, she knew she’d failed when his eyes narrowed.
‘‘I’m not taking sides. I told her she has to talk with you, but I do see her point.’’
‘‘See, I told you.’’ Ruby huffed and wrapped her arms around her knees. ‘‘Do you realize that the only times you and I get upset with each other are when we talk about my little sister?’’
‘‘She’s not so little.’’
‘‘That has nothing to do with it.’’
‘‘It has everything to do with it. As far as I can see, she’s old enough and smart enough to be making more of her own decisions.’’ ‘‘I wonder if you would be so understanding if she were your younger sister. School is important.’’
‘‘Not if you’re not learning anything.’’ His voice had gone softer, a sure indication he was fighting to keep his temper.
‘‘I think we better head on back.’’
‘‘If you insist. But I don’t know why we can’t have a discussion without you getting all hot under the collar.’’
‘‘Me!’’ Ruby surged to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. ‘‘I’ll have you know, Mr. Harrison, that I’m not hot under the collar. My collar is just fine. You’re the one who is not listening to reason.’’
Rand saddled the horses while she stamped around the small clearing, murdering ants and any other small critters caught in the grass.
She started to mount when he put a hand on hers on the saddle horn. ‘‘Okay, I have no idea how else I could have handled this, so can we agree on one thing?’’
Ruby chewed her bottom lip.
I hate being angry at you
. She rested her forehead against his arm. ‘‘What?’’
‘‘That I love you, and you love me, and no matter what, we can figure out solutions to problems.’’
‘‘Oh, Rand, this has nothing to do with loving you. I just want what’s best for Opal.’’
‘‘And you think I don’t?’’
His question stopped her in midbreath. ‘‘No, of course not. I mean, of course you do. Oh, Rand, I always wanted her to graduate from secondary school.’’
‘‘Why? Because you didn’t?’’
‘‘I had to go to work to give us a home. I wanted her to go to finishing school, to become the young lady I never could be. Mrs. Brandon would have done that for her.’’
‘‘I know. But Opal loves this ranch as much as I do. She has a heart as big as our Dakotah sky. Perhaps if we really think on it, we can come up with something far better for her than spending hours each day cooped up with a teacher who isn’t half as smart as she is.’’
‘‘Rand Harrison.’’
‘‘Well, it’s true. He has more book learning, but—’’ he kissed his wife on the tip of her nose—‘‘he lacks a certain amount of common sense, don’t you think?’’
‘‘I don’t know. I hardly know the man.’’
‘‘Would you like to be friends with him?’’
She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking of the teacher who’d followed Pearl. ‘‘No.’’
‘‘Why not?’’
‘‘He’s insipid, boring, and looks down on us ranchers.’’
‘‘Oh, really?’’
‘‘I think we need to ask the state for a new teacher, or else someone ought to wise him up.’’ She gave him a sideways glance.
‘‘Me?’’
‘‘Why not?’’
‘‘Get on your horse. We have a few miles to cover.’’ He gave her a boost and mounted Buck. ‘‘You’re not going to worry about this, are you?’’
‘‘No, but I do like to have a plan.’’
‘‘I know. Worrying doesn’t accomplish anything.’’
‘‘Rand.’’
He grinned at her and nudged Buck into a slow jog.
‘‘Everybody can’t just not do what is hard. Hard times build character.’’
‘‘You don’t think Opal is enough of a character?’’
‘‘There’s a difference.’’ But she’d noticed the tightening of his jaw. He’d go talk with the man all right. Perhaps instill in him a little more respect for the rancher breed.
Opal, sometimes you make
me so perturbed
. If only Pearl had been able to keep teaching.
‘‘Opal, I guess you and I have something to talk over.’’ Ruby stood with Per on her hip. His head leaned against her shoulder as if she’d been gone for weeks instead of a few hours. The instant he heard her voice, he’d run shrieking to the door. His ‘‘Ma-a’’ could probably be heard clear to town.
‘‘Now?’’ While Opal had willingly worked at the house all day, she thought that as soon as Ruby returned, she could head for the horse pasture.
‘‘Can you think of a better time?’’
‘‘Well, yes.’’ Opal took a broomstraw from the can on the warming shelf and leaned over to open the oven door, sticking the straw into the cake to test for doneness. When some batter showed on the straw, she closed the oven door very carefully so the cake would not fall. ‘‘How about after supper?’’
‘‘I suppose. How long until the cake is done?’’
‘‘Perhaps five minutes.’’
‘‘Can you wait that long, or do you need to get out to the horses immediately?’’ A bite to the words made Opal decide staying would be best.
‘‘I’ll wait. Did you have a good time?’’
‘‘Yes, we did. How was Per?’’
‘‘Busy. He thought he should be able to churn the butter, wash the butter, and salt it too. Ghost played with him for a while.’’
‘‘Don’t know what I’d do without that dog at times.’’ Ruby tickled Per’s tummy and kissed his cheek. ‘‘You were a good boy?’’
‘‘Go boy.’’ He stuck his first finger into his mouth, a favorite trick since he was weaned.
‘‘We got the beans picked and strung. I’d rather do that than can them anytime.’’ Opal checked under the towel spread over a pan of rolls rising. They would be ready for the oven when the cake was done. She’d used the leftover sourdough batter from the breakfast pancakes, kneaded in more flour, and set the rolls rising for supper.
‘‘Did the men get back yet?’’
‘‘No. There’s a roast in the back of the oven.’’
‘‘Thank you, Opal, for my day off. I cannot tell you how much I appreciated it.’’
‘‘Good.’’
But I thought it might make you more agreeable to what I
want, if Rand mentioned it to you, which he obviously did
. She set the wood-slatted rack on the table and pulled the coffeepot to the hotter part of the stove. ‘‘Coffee should be hot about the time the cake is done. I thought whipped cream would be good on it.’’ It seemed she’d been cooking and baking all day while the men were over at Robertsons’ bringing in the last of the hay loads.
‘‘Don’t forget to check the cake and put the rolls in,’’ she said to Ruby as she headed to her room.
Even school might be better than all this housework. The thought made her hustle to change clothes. Working in the heat had been cooler in a dress, something she was rarely willing to admit, but out with the horses she’d never wear skirts or a dress. Although riding sidesaddle in the park in New York, wearing a riding dress of Alicia’s, had been a different story. Several young men had come to ride with them. Penelope had teased her about them afterward.
‘‘They never showed up before you came,’’ she’d said.
Opal had made a derogatory sound.
‘‘Opal, you have no idea how fetching you look. That blue makes your eyes sparkle, and you’re as graceful on that horse as any woman I’ve ever seen ride.’’
‘‘You come west, and I’ll show you how to really ride.’’ She nudged the horse forward. ‘‘Come on, let’s take that trail over there by the lake.’’
Penelope rode beside her, Alicia trailing. ‘‘Do you really ride astride—in britches?’’
‘‘Yes. You can’t work cattle with all this stuff on.’’ She gestured to her skirts and petticoats. ‘‘Why, it would shred in minutes riding through the trees and brush. We all wear chaps to protect our legs.’’
‘‘Chaps?’’
‘‘Leather leggings that cover the fronts of your legs, kind of like an apron that attaches to a leather belt. You tie them behind your legs with leather strings.’’
‘‘I saw a picture of a cowboy who had furry coverings on his legs.’’
‘‘Most likely some tenderfoot who wanted to look like a cowboy. Look over there.’’ Opal pointed to two black swans being followed by their half-grown young. They’d looked up the name in the dictionary. Cygnets. French.
‘‘Aren’t they lovely?’’ Alicia said with a sigh. ‘‘So graceful. I’m sure they never had to take lessons from Miss Claudette.’’
‘‘Are they that bad?’’ Opal could barely repress a shudder.
‘‘Walk with a book on your head, and if you drop it—’’ ‘‘You can never let your spine touch the back of a chair. What are chairbacks for if not to lean against?’’ Penelope rode on the other side. For a change the three were alone, the brothers off on a different outing.
Even though she knew the answer, Opal asked the next question. ‘‘Why go if you hate it so?’’
Penelope rolled her eyes, another of the many things she was not supposed to do. ‘‘Mother acts so gentle and patient, but you don’t want to cross her on certain things. ‘Now that you are young ladies, you must put off the things of childhood and learn to deport yourselves in the manner of your station.’’’
‘‘That’s a direct quote.’’ Alicia smiled, a serene smile that looked more like her mother’s than Opal could believe. ‘‘But it’s really not so bad once you decide that Miss Claudette is doing her best to help you. I’d be mortified if I made a faux pas in public.’’
Opal had glanced over to see Penelope make a face.
She shuddered now as she stamped her foot securely into her boot. To live like that, corseted until you could barely breathe, restricted from all things enjoyable, buildings all around until you felt you were in a canyon closing in from the top. Not like here with sky that went on forever, painted canyons that glowed in the sun—even the shadows teemed with life. How could Ruby have even dreamed she would rather stay in New York to go to school?
She grabbed her hat off the hall tree and headed out the door, smiling to herself at the sound of Per laughing out on the back porch. Being with him all day had not been a bad thing. He was fun and funny and learned so fast. And almost as cute as a half-grown colt.
She glanced up at the screech of a hawk overhead. Good thing they had put wire over the chicken run, or he’d have dined at their expense. ‘‘Go get those gophers that are tearing up the pasture,’’ she told him.
The bird ignored her. The horses ignored her whistle too, peacefully grazing at the far side of the fenced pasture. The filly had not learned to respond to a whistle yet, but Buck lifted his head and whinnied.
‘‘Bring them all on up here,’’ she called to him. Even now she missed Firelight, the filly she’d trained and Rand had sold. Even though that was the way of ranching and she’d known it would happen, inside she had dreamed that maybe Rand would surprise her and let the filly be hers.
Too many things had changed in the last couple of months. She whistled again, and Bay broke into a trot. While the old mare was rarely used for roping cattle any longer, she still loved attention. ‘‘Good girl.’’ She let Bay snuffle her hair and leaned into the warm, firm shoulder. Bay might be up there in years, but she’d make a good horse to teach Per to ride. Opal swung aboard, her rope looped over her shoulder. Bareback, no bridle, one with her horse. Now, this was the way to ride, not like a dolled-up stick on the trails of a city park. ‘‘But I need to get a letter off to them. Wouldn’t we have fun if they would come here to visit?’’
Bay broke into a lope at the slight squeeze of Opal’s legs, the wind lifting her mane and tugging at her rider’s hat. Leaning slightly in the direction she wanted the horse to go, Opal singled out the young filly and lassoed her with one try.
‘‘It’s about time you learn to come when you’re called.’’ She looped the rope over the horse’s nose and led her back to the gate. Dismounting, she let Bay go and took the filly up to the barn. ‘‘You need a name, little girl, but I’ve not come up with a good one yet.’’
After brushing the sorrel’s coat and mane and picking up her feet, checking for thrush or a stone in the frog, she saddled the horse and mounted easily in spite of a bit of sidestepping. By the time she’d dismounted and mounted again three times, the horse stood quietly.