Ruby (17 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

They had the fire burning hot in the morning when four men rode in from the Ox and the Triple Seven ranches and laid their branding irons in the fire along with the two from the Double H.

Soon as everyone had downed a cup of coffee from the pot steaming off to the side of the fire, the men mounted up and rode easy into the herd to rope a calf and bring it, bawling and fighting, to the fire. One of the hands would reach over the calf’s back, grab a flank and front shoulder, throw the calf to the ground, and pin it with one knee to the neck while another hand shoved the white-hot brand against the calf’s haunch. The stench of burning hair and flesh filled the air, and the calf was allowed up again. Once the rope was removed from its neck, it was released so it could run back to its frantic mother.

The team settled into a rhythm of roping, dragging, flanking, slapping on the brand, then letting the cow and calf head on out to pasture again as soon as they were finished.

Rand roped a calf and started him back to the fire, but this time its mother followed right along. “Hey, chase that old lady away,” he yelled at one of the other riders.

“Sure enough.” The rider came in and swung his rope to haze the cow off, but she dodged around him and headed for the branding pit.

One of the men from another ranch had just flanked the calf when the cow made a beeline for him. Seeing the cow charge, he leaped to his feet, the calf scrambled to escape, and Rand swung the brander up behind him on the horse.

Another rancher chased the cow off, and they started all over again. The brander tipped the calf on its side, the calf bawled, and the cow came after him again.

“You fools, quit laughing and get in here to help me.” The brander ran for a horse again as the cow, shaking her rack of horns as if she would skewer him, dodged around the horse and came for her calf that was, of course, back on his feet and running toward her.

“She been at this too long!” someone shouted.

“Will one of you rope her so we can get this calf branded?” The man slid back off the horse, picked up the branding iron he’d dropped in the dirt, and stomped over to ram it back in the fire. “If you fools think it’s so funny, you come work this end, and I’ll ride the horse.”

“Shame letting that old cow get the better of you.” Beans looked up from adding wood to the fire, keeping the coals hot enough to heat the brands.

“Keep it up and I’ll—”

“That’s the trouble with you Ox hands, no sense of humor.”

“Ready to try again?” Rand crossed his arms on the saddle horn, the calf still on the end of his rope but standing next to his mother, who hadn’t quit alternating between sniffing her calf and raising her head to eye the riders. She shook her horns as if daring them to try again.

“I mean it, Rand, you get someone to rope her or . . .” The brander shook his head.

“You got to give her credit for protecting her baby.”

“Credit or no, she hooks me with those horns, and I swear . . .”

“Good enough.” Rand waved at two of the riders. “You two each put a rope on her and hold her back. Rod here is tired of our laughing at his expense. Can’t understand why.”

They finally got that calf branded, and Rod ended up the butt of the jokes for a good part of the day, much to his disgruntlement, but when Chaps rode in with his cattle, the men turned to ribbing him about being hoodwinked and tied to a tree.

At the end of the second day, when they let the last calf go, Rand and the others totaled up the tally. Double H had 234 head, Triple Seven had fifty, and the Ox Ranch, twenty.

“How many cows you had last year?” a rancher from the Ox asked.

“Two hundred, so I’m pretty close. When you want to start at your place? I can send Chaps and Joe on to help you round up.”

They settled on the days, and Rand watched the men ride out. He might be the smallest rancher in the area, but since better than half his calves were heifers, one hundred sixty to be exact, in two more years he’d have a pretty good herd. That Hereford bull would be a help there. Soon as branding was done, he’d head east to pick him up.

“God willing and the creek don’t rise.”

“What’s that you say?” Beans asked.

“Nothing, just asking for help keeping things on even keel here.”

“Hope someone’s listenin’.”

“Me too.”

“Hey, Rand, you playing tonight?” Captain McHenry called as Rand rode into the cantonment.

“Yep. That’s why I came in.” Rand remained in the saddle. “Can I bunk here after?”

“You bet. So you’re not planning to stay at Dove House?”

“It just don’t feel right. Know what I mean?”

“I think I do. Come on in. The coffee’s hot.”

Rand dismounted and dropped Buck’s reins, ground-tying him as he’d been trained. He followed the officer into a large room, complete with stove where a gray graniteware coffeepot held residence during all but the hottest months of the summer. The room really didn’t need the extra heat in May.

McHenry poured two cups of prop-up-a-spoon coffee and handed one to Rand. “It’s cooler out back.”

Once he sat in a chair overlooking the northern buttes, Rand propped his boots on the tabletop like the captain, and both rocked their chairs on the back two legs.

“Why’d she have to go mess with things?”

“Come on, Harrison, how could a genteel young lady like Miss Torvald tolerate what was going on there? According to Belle, she had no idea what was what. Belle near to busted her corset laughing when she explained the facts of life in Little Misery to her. At least life as it was at Dove House.”

“You mean Per never told her anything?”

“Nope, just asked her to come west for her inheritance—and to bring her little sister, the daughter Per had never seen since the day of her birth.”

“What kind of man would do such a thing to his daughters?” Rand took a sip from his coffee, “And here I always thought he was a pretty good man, even though he ran a brothel. I mean, it seems like the girls chose to live there.”

“Unless, of course, they had nowhere else to go. Or they owed him money.”

“I thought Belle owned part of it.”

“She thought so too, or at least she believed, if something happened to him, the place would be hers. Quite a shock when the Misses Torvald showed up one snow-spittin’ night.”

“I saw them on the train, you know.”

“Really?”

“The little one got in trouble with some fella, and while I think Miss Torvald was winning, I stepped in and made sure. She’s got a tongue on her that could fry eggs, but she’s so genteel they wouldn’t know they were cooked.”

“So what else has been going on?” Captain McHenry drank from his cup.

“Done branding but for Ox Ranch. Goin’ up there tomorrow. The boys already riding range for them. They got ten times more cows than I do.”

“You read that the Apache left the reservation again down in Arizona Territory?”

“Haven’t read a newspaper in months. What are they going to do?”

“Send the army after them. More bloodshed. Can’t have the Indians burning and pillaging white ranchers and farmers.”

“I know, even if the government has taken over Apache land. Sure glad our Indians are under control.”

“They won’t be if the U.S. Government doesn’t live up to its word to send supplies. Can’t let the poor souls starve to death. You and I’d go to war to feed our families too.”

“You heading down there?”

“I go where they send me, but right now I’d just as soon stay here.”
And take the Misses Torvald riding and fishing again
. He sipped his now tepid coffee and stared up at the buttes. Talk about a charmer, that Opal, and someone worth getting to know, Miss Ruby Torvald. First woman he’d been around in a long time that could possibly be considered as marriageable for a man in his position. At times he’d even thought of going back home to Ohio to see if he could find someone. He didn’t want to end up like some of his old-timers, talking about the war, reliving former glory, and never having a wife and children.

The latest letter from his sister had reminded him, not for the first time, that as the only son, he needed to get himself a family, or the McHenry name would fade away.

Interesting how he and Harrison had resolved their views on the war with a silent agreement to disagree or else skirt around the issue, as they did the Indian question. They both loved this awesome land, all the flora and fauna, a good horse, and giving each other a bad time.

“You had supper yet?”

“No, just rode into town.”

“Good, let’s go on over to Dove House to eat and then join Belle in the cardroom. I’m feeling right lucky for a change.” Captain McHenry tossed the dregs of his coffee out onto the dirt. “Give you a gander at all Miss Torvald’s done. Good food, that’s for sure.”

Rand followed suit and led his horse over to the livery on the way to Dove House.

Before he reached the front steps, he could tell that someone had been at work on Dove House. Windows sparkled, the porch was clean, and an old bucket had been given new life as a pot for some pink flowers. The brass doorknob shone.

He glanced toward the captain, who nodded. “See. I told you.”

A bell over the door announced their entrance, and Miss Torvald came through the swinging door, a smile of welcome lighting her face.

Jeremiah McHenry felt the now familiar kick in the gut. It happened every time he saw her.

“Good evening, Captain.” The sound of her voice upped the ante. When could he take her riding again? What else could they do? He was sure she didn’t play cards.

Rand removed his hat. “Good evening, Miss Torvald.”

She nodded a bit abruptly and shifted her gaze back to the captain. “Where would you like to sit?”

“Anywhere is fine.” All ten tables sported gleaming white cloths and napkins, as if it were a fine establishment in any major city. But here it was in Little Missouri, a place with a decided lack of appreciation for anything of quality.
Ah, Miss Torvald, I fear you have embarked on an enterprise of certain failure
. The two men set their hats on two chairs and sat down on the others.

“Tonight we are serving venison roast with potatoes and gravy, green beans, fresh rolls—”

“It’s worth coming here just for the rolls.” The captain smiled up at Ruby, but his comment was for Rand.

“Thank you, sir. Can I bring you coffee to start?”

“Fine.”

When she left, McHenry leaned forward, his elbows on the table, fingers steepled. “When you goin’ east for your bull?”

“Soon as branding is done. We had an old cow the other day that did her best to keep us from branding her calf.” He told the captain the story, and it set them both laughing. “You ought to come on out, get your hands dirty for a change.”

Jeremiah held out his hand, palm up, then rolled it over.

“Pushing a pencil doesn’t give one too many calluses, that’s for sure. You should have invited me when I was by your ranch.”

“Didn’t think of it. Coulda used another hand, though. I found Chaps tied to a tree after his horse came home without him. Some varmint knocked him out and stole his horse. But the horse didn’t take kindly to his new rider, so it dumped him and headed back to the ranch, stirrups flapping. Thought sure I’d lost a man, but we found him, madder than a shot-up grizzly.” Rand glanced around the dining room. “Sure fire different in here now. Too quiet.”

“You want noise and a fight or two, stop off at Williams’ saloon. That’s where the excitement is these days.”

“If you don’t mind gettin’ poisoned.”

“Here’s your supper, Captain, Mr. Harrison.” Daisy set their plates in front of them. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thanks.” McHenry glanced to Rand, who shook his head.

When she left, Rand leaned forward. “Where did she come from? She looks familiar.”

“I asked Belle. She said that’s Jasmine.”

“Jasmine! You’ve got to be kidding. Jasmine as a shy waitress?” Rand let out a snort. “If that’s Jasmine, where’s Cimarron?”

“No idea, but then I’ve not been invited back to the kitchen.”

“Cimarron would be pretty hard to hide. You think she left town?”

“Ask Belle.”

So Rand did later in the cardroom where Belle was dealing. A couple of the other officers from the cantonment had joined them, along with Johnny Nelson, the Swede and owner of the town store.

Belle leaned close to Rand and McHenry. “Cimarron is still here but stays in the back so folks can forget what she was. Can you picture Cimarron as a seamstress? You ask me, a leopard can’t change his spots, and the same goes for a dove.”

“I wouldn’t count on that if I were you. Looks to me like there are a lot of changes here.”

“Ain’t goin’ to last. You saw how many came to the dining room for supper.” She shook her head and blew cigar smoke out of the side of her mouth. “Little Misery ain’t ready for the likes of this. Let her run out of money, and someone else will buy her out.”

“You got an idea who that someone might be?” The captain studied his cards.

“I’ll never tell.” Belle gave him a long slow smile.

Two hours later and two dollars lighter, Rand pushed back his chair. “You were right, McHenry, Lady Luck was shining on you tonight.”

“Surely you’re not quitting already?”

“Sometimes quitting is the wisest move. I haven’t had a decent hand all night. Belle, what you got against me?”

“You ain’t played for so long, you lost your touch, that’s all.” She glanced around the table. “ Another round, boys?”

“Naw, you and the captain cleaned us all out. You two in cahoots or something?”

“Just poor losers, eh, Belle?” Jeremiah McHenry pushed back his chair and paused halfway standing. “That gunfire I hear?”

“Most likely at the saloon.” Belle gathered her cards back into her hand. “Happens near to every night, you know.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“I got me an idea.”

Ruby stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. “What is it now, Charlie?”

“I think it’s time you got out to meet the neighbors.”

Ruby shuddered. “I met some of them, remember? That night we came to town, they slammed their doors in our faces. And I’ve watched you throw some of the men right out into the street.”
All that
really
makes me want to get to know the folks around here personally. Yet if I don’t, I’ll never get their business. And if there is a conspiracy, how better to overcome it than to try to make some friends?

So go bearing gifts. She felt like clapping both hands to her head to retain her sanity.

“Why do I get the feeling that you have something all planned and you are just now getting around to informing me about it?”

If innocence had a face, it was Charlie’s.

“I thought to make up some cakes or perhaps some sweet rolls and we could put them in a basket or two and go calling.”

“Isn’t that what people who already live here are supposed to do to welcome new arrivals?”

He cleared his throat. “You got to admit circumstances here aren’t what one would call normal or polite society.”

“Charlie, don’t try to sweet-talk me, just lay it all out there.”

“I did. Simple as this—go calling on the townsfolk.”

“What about some of the surrounding ranches?” Her mind seemed to be more agreeable to this plan than her heart.

“We could do that too, now that you can ride some. Although we could take a wagon out to the Double H and the Robert-sons’.”

“The Double H? That’s Mr. Harrison’s place.”

“Rand Harrison, yes. He don’t like to be called mister.”

That’s not all he doesn’t like
.

“Ruby, guess what?” As usual Opal blew in through the back door as if she rode a big wind.

“What?”

“I found that mean old hen. She hid away underneath the nest boxes. Milly said not to disturb her now because she’s been sitting on those eggs for a while.We’re going to have baby chickens.”

“You call ’em chicks.” Milly closed the door carefully behind her. She set her basket of eggs down on the counter. “I thought maybe something got her, but there she was, proud as you please and meaner’n ever.” She held out a hand with spotted dots of blood.

“And here I thought I might get her in the stewpot any day now.”

“Charlie!”

He raised his hands, palms out. “So that’s what happens to chickens that don’t lay eggs. You can’t feed ’em forever.”

“It’s bad enough we have to eat wild animals that have been shot, but ones we know?” Ruby could feel her stomach churn.

Cimarron and Milly both rolled their eyes. “Welcome to the West.” Cimarron stuck her needle into a pincushion and stood to stretch. “If you’d loan me a gun, Charlie, I could go out tonight and get us some grouse. A man said he was shooting them right out of the trees. Said if you shoot ’em in the head so they fall instead of fly, the rest just stay right there, waiting to be picked off. He’s been shipping them on the train to eastern restaurants.”

“You can shoot that well?” Ruby knew staring wasn’t polite, but this was a shock.

“Might take a bit of practice, but I can get enough to feed us.”

“Can I go along? I’d go pick them up for you.” Opal looked from Cimarron to Ruby and then checked with Charlie. Ruby shook her head, Charlie nodded, and Cimarron clapped a hand on Opal’s shoulder. “You sure can. We’ll make a right good team.”

“How come you know how to shoot?” Opal’s face radiated hero worship.

“My brothers taught me. When you live on the frontier, you learn to do all kinds of things city folk don’t need. You just do what you have to do to stay alive.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Sometime, maybe.” She looked over Opal’s head to Ruby, looking for permission. When Ruby only frowned, Cimarron continued. “Well, maybe we’ll wait till you’re a bit older.”

Later that morning, not long after the eastbound train left town, two men walked in the front door and stopped at the counter.

“May I help you?” Ruby came through the door from the kitchen in response to the bell.

“I’d like a drink.”

“I’m sorry, but we no longer serve liquor here. We have rooms and meals. Dinner will be in another two hours. We serve promptly at noon.”

“Where’s Belle and the girls?” asked the other.

“As I said, we have rooms to rent and meals. Would you like to register? Belle deals in the cardroom after supper.”
How many times do I have to repeat myself before you understand?

“And who might you be? Where’s Per?”

“I am his daughter. He died and deeded Dove House to me and my sister.”

“Now, ain’t that a joke.” One man slapped the other on the shoulder. He turned back to Ruby. “So what about the other places in town? Any of them offer . . . ah . . . you know . . .”

“No, I don’t know.”

One of the men leered at her, leaning slightly closer. The now familiar heat bloomed in her face. She bit back the words she really wanted to say and kept her voice even. She knew she could call Charlie, but if she was indeed the proprietress of Dove House, she needed to learn how to handle all kinds of customers, even cantankerous ones. “If you want rotgut whiskey, you go to Williams’ saloon. Mrs. McGeeney serves meals. Good day, gentlemen.” She made as if to leave, wishing she’d not bothered to call them gentlemen, for they certainly weren’t. However, her mother had not allowed such names as would fit them more precisely to be spoken in her home. And Ruby did her best to follow her example.

“Now, missy, don’t be in such a hurry. We’ll stay here tonight. How much is it?”

Missy
. “That will be two dollars per room.” She was glad she’d taken down the sign that listed prices. She’d decided it looked less than genteel. If they were going to have these men as guests, and she used the term loosely, they’d pay extra. “Please sign here and include your home address. Room charges must be paid in advance.”

They did as she instructed, paid their money, and lifted their carpetbags.

“I’ll show you to your rooms.” She led the way up the stairway, feeling their lascivious thoughts with every movement of her hips.
You could still call for Charlie. No, you can’t. Charlie’s busy, and I have to learn to handle situations like this. We are still reaping what my father sowed
. The thought was no more pleasing than the two men behind her. She opened two doors, one on each side of the hall, and handed them their keys.

“Will you be here for dinner?”

“You can bet we will, Miss Torvald. Do you ring a bell or something?”

“No, but someone will call you if you’d like.” She left them and headed back to the kitchen, jingling their money in her apron pocket. While she needed to put it in the till, right now the extra change felt mighty good. She refused to feel guilty for charging them more than normal. As proprietor, that was her privilege.

When the men came down for dinner, Cimarron peeked through the door. “I know those two. They stop here every so often, and always . . . ah . . . Charlie’s had to reason with them a time or two after they’d had a few too many. The one with the muttonchop whiskers likes to cheat at cards, but Belle will take care of them.”

Ruby told the others what she had charged, and they all burst out laughing.

Charlie dished up the plates and took them out to the men. Ruby knew he was taking no chances with the girls being recognized. They could hear him joking and laughing with the drummers.

“Put extra water on,” he said on his way back out with more bread. “They want baths too.”

“Knowing that one guy, he wants someone to scrub his back.” Cimarron glared toward the dining room. “Heard tell he beat up a girl one time. That’s the only one I heard about, but—”

“You make sure you stay out of sight, both of you.” Ruby waited until both girls nodded. “I promise you will never have to go back to that life again.”
Help me, God, to keep my promise
. She clenched her fists at her sides. Even this small glimpse into their earlier lives made her want to take a gun out in the dining room and . . .

Ruby Signe Torvald, what has come over you? And what is all this doing to Opal? Crude men, learning to fish, going hunting?

Belle came down for dinner and heard the men in the dining room. “Sounds like we have some new customers. Do we know them?” At Daisy’s nod, she looked to Cimarron. “Ah, I thought I recognized the voice. They must have been surprised at the changes here.”

“To say the least. And I’d thank you not to discuss the prices of things here with them. I have adjusted our rates to allow for . . . for . . . certain situations.” Ruby clamped her teeth together. Belle and her father had knowingly put the others in danger with men like those out there. Of course, they considered it business, but what kind of business makes its profit at the expense of others less fortunate?

Most businesses, she had to admit. “They are not to know that Cimarron and Daisy work here. Is that clear?”

“Well, well, Miss Hoity-Toity. Got a dose of the real world, did you? Don’t get your drawers in a tangle. I won’t say a thing.” Belle crossed the room and patted Ruby’s cheek. “You done right good, sweetheart. Don’t you take no sass.”

Ruby tried to answer, but words wouldn’t pass a throat tied up in shock.

“We’re playin’ blackjack tonight. Ought to be good for the house. Charlie’s dealing too. Just a shame we can’t get them drunk. They always lose more when they’re near to under the table.” She turned to Ruby, who’d been about to jump in, holding a hand up to stop her. “Just a comment, just a comment. I been followin’ the rules. Ask anyone. That’s why we don’t have more’n four or so a night. Not like the old days.”

Ruby started to say something but cut off the words when Belle winked at her.

“I know. I know. I’m just a dealer here and got no say in the runnin’ anymore, but keep in mind if you really want to pay the bills, liquor is the cheapest and quickest way to do it.”

Be that as it may, I won’t go back to that. The card playing is bad enough. I will not go back
. Ruby wasn’t sure who she was making the vow to, but she meant it with all of her heart. She eyed the woman so peacefully drinking her coffee. Belle was acting too friendly. How much was it going to cost her this time? Here, she’d just about gotten enough nerve to confront Belle about ransacking her room and keeping the townsfolk away, and now the woman was being nice.

Charlie spent a good part of his afternoon lugging hot water up the stairs and carrying used water back down. He poured the used water in a barrel by the back door so they could water the garden with it later.

Ruby picked up her sewing after supper while Milly and Opal washed up, then took out the book she’d started reading to everyone in the evening. She’d brought
Pilgrim’s Progress
with her on the train, but she expected a box of books and other school things to be coming soon from Mrs. Brandon. When the box arrived she planned to start teaching Milly along with Opal, although Opal already had her friend familiar with reading and writing the alphabet and her numbers.

Belle dropped in on her way to the cardroom. “You thought about making any popcorn tonight?”

“Popcorn?” Ruby wondered when she would stop sounding like an echo.

“I’ll make it.” Cimarron stood and headed for the storeroom.

“Good. See you later, children.”

Milly rolled her eyes.

“Since when do we have popcorn?” Ruby kept her place in the book with one finger.

“We always had popcorn, good and salty. It made the men drink more because they were thirsty.”

“I know, and if they drink more, they lose more money gambling. But we aren’t serving liquor. Why did I keep the cardroom open? Even without liquor.”

Cimarron turned from dropping a dollop of lard in the pan on the stove. “Because you were wise and listened to Belle and Charlie. Couple of nights ago the house took in forty dollars. Now that’s not bad.”

“But that’s because we had those men from New York here.” She had to admit they had been good for the till. If things kept on as they were, she would have some money to pay on the accounts after all. But was it worth the price of allowing gambling under her roof?

While the popping kernels ricocheted off all the sides of the kettle, she thought back to a conversation she’d had with Charlie. He wanted her to meet with the banker in Dickinson just in case she ever needed to borrow money to keep the doors open.

But she’d told him she was not going unless she had money to pay on the account.

The men were settled into their evening’s entertainment when she took the buttered and well-salted popcorn in and set the bowls on the table off to the side.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked Charlie.

One of the drummers leered at her. “Honey, you could get me anything you want.”

He’s been drinking,
she thought but reminded herself they could have been drinking down at Williams’ place before they came here. She nodded good-night and, leaving a lamp lit in the kitchen for Charlie or Belle to get more coffee, herded the other girls up the stairs.

“I sure would like a real bed again,” Opal said as she kissed Ruby good-night.

“Me too.” Ruby finished braiding her hair for the night, blew out the lamp, and slid under the covers. According to Milly, when summer came they could cut and dry grass for filling the pallets. Now, the thought of sleeping on dried grass didn’t get her real excited, but a thicker mattress would feel wonderfully good.

She thought of the growing list of supplies they needed, including more sheeting for bed linens and pillowcases. If only she had some of that goose down from those geese that flew northward. How wonderful a feather bed would be. Even the lowliest of the help at the Brandon house had not been forced to sleep on the floor like this.

But at least for tonight, half of the rooms downstairs housed paying guests.

Her thoughts traveled to the Bible now in her trunk. She’d not read in it for far longer than she wanted to admit. And when had she ceased praying? And why?
I’ll think about that in the morning when my mind is fresh,
she promised herself.