Ruby (19 page)

“Me too.”

Mrs. Paddock at the livery promised to come for supper that night. Two houses, if one could call them that, were empty, so they left a package on each table after Charlie assured her that someone did indeed live there.

“What are those shacks over there?”

“Ah, you don’t want to go there.”

“They’re vacant?”

“No. Trust me, Miss Ruby, you don’t want to go over there. We’re tryin’ to get you a good reputation in town, and goin’ there won’t do that.”

“Charlie.”

“Those are the cribs, and that’s all I’ll say on the matter. Let’s get back on to Dove House.”

What are cribs?
But at the look on Charlie’s face she decided not to ask.

“There are six of us females at Dove House and four women in town. Are there any women out on the ranches?”

“Mrs. Robertson and her girls. You’ll like her, and then there’s one north of here, I think. Don’t believe I know her name.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, Little Missouri weren’t here at all until the railroad went through.”

“Oh. And the cantonment?”

“Built to protect the railroad.”

“Oh.” They needed more women here to civilize this place. Though it might have a name, it seemed impossible to call it a town.

They got back in time to help with dinner, at which they served two guests and Mr. and Mrs. Paddock from the livery.

“Best meal I’ve had in a long time,”Mr. Paddock said, patting his middle and earning a glare from his wife.

“I always wondered what it looked like in here.” She glanced around the room.

“Some different than it used to.”

His wife glared at him once again. “Well, you should know.” She pushed her chair back. “Thank you, Miss Torvald. I hope you can make a go of it here.” She started for the door, and her husband followed suit.

“Please come again.” Ruby watched them go. Obviously the wives in town had not appreciated Dove House.

When the train whistle blew east of town, Milly and Opal took their baskets of sandwiches and cookies over to sell to the passengers while the fireman filled the engine boiler with water.

When they came back, Opal handed Ruby the money along with a letter from the bank in Dickinson. “We could have sold more food. And they want coffee. What if we set up a table instead of bringing baskets? A lady said at most stops they get off to buy food. But since there’s no platform here . . .”

“But they would get off. And they do want coffee or even fresh water,” Milly added.

“We
could
set up a table. That is a very good idea.” Ruby nodded and smiled back at the two excited girls.

“I’ll build us one,” Charlie said. “A bench or two might be a good idea too.” He glanced out at the pile of lumber left over from building Dove House. “Going to run out of wood pretty soon.”

“I hope not. I was thinking about flower boxes for along the front. Lots of places in New York have them.”

“This ain’t New York, Miss Ruby. We’d do better gettin’ a milk cow.”

“Really?” Opal spun around from sneaking a bite of dough from the molasses cookies Daisy was making. “A cow of our own?”

“We could sell milk.” Cimarron took a pan of cookies from the oven. “And we’d need a churn.”

Opal cocked her head. “For what?”

“Churning cream into butter. We could serve sour cream on pancakes or bread, along with chokecherry jelly or syrup. Bet we can find us some chokecherries come August.”

Ruby listened to the plans and thought again how much things had changed. Now if she could only get Belle to cooperate. About the time she thought they were getting somewhere, a situation like last night happened. Trouble was, Belle really didn’t see anything wrong with the drinking, so turning a blind eye was not difficult.

“I’m going to talk with Belle.”
And explain to her that any breakage from now on would come out of her pay. Now that ought to get her attention
.

Ruby headed up the stairs to confront Belle before she lost her nerve. When she rapped on the door, she could smell cigarillo smoke. Of course, while the rest of them were working themselves to dead tired, Belle could sit in her room and smoke. She knew the feeling was unjust; after all, Belle did pay for her room and board, so Ruby clamped her jaw. Be polite. Be gentle. A soft answer . . .“Uff da,” she muttered to herself, wishing she dared say something stronger.

Belle opened the door enough to let a wave of smoke out. “What?”

“I would like to speak with you, if you have a moment.”
And if you don’t, I’ll speak anyway
.

“Sure, why not?” Still in her wrapper, Belle opened the door and stepped back with an entering motion with her other hand, the lighted cigarillo trailing smoke as she fanned the air.

Ruby cleared her throat. If only she could open a window. “I want to talk with you about the damage in the cardroom last night.”

“Sorry, but that varmint caught me by surprise.”

“You had no idea he’d been drinking?”

“No.” Belle slitted her eyes. “Poured it in his coffee. Why? You think I let him?”

Ruby pictured the cardroom. They kept the coffee hot over a low candle on another table. It would be easy enough for a man to sneak liquor into his coffee cup. The sigh escaped before she could stop it. Now how could she demand Belle pay for damages?

“Me and Charlie are just going to have to watch ’em closer. Locals know Charlie will toss them out, so they get theirs before they come here. Drink enough coffee, play enough cards, and they are pretty sober before they leave.” Belle waved to a chair. “Have a seat.”

Do I ask her about the conspiracy? No, that might get Cimarron in trouble
. Ruby rubbed her forehead. Things were so complicated.

She sucked in a huge breath of courage. “I would appreciate it if you were more careful. We . . . I cannot afford to make continual repairs to tables and chairs. Therefore, if—”

“What a minute, honey.” The word did not sound like an endearment. “If you think to blame the breakage on me—”

Ruby took a cue from the other woman and interrupted her, something that went against all her precepts of good manners. “I am telling you that if there is more breakage, I will charge it to your account.”

“My account! Now listen here—”

“No, Belle, you listen.” She gentled her voice. “We offer the room for card playing, and since you run the room, it is up to you to convince our guests to leave their liquor at the door if they want a clean place to play cards where no one cheats them. The coffee and desserts are on the house.” She had refused to stop at Belle’s snort and plowed right through to the end.

Belle glared at her through the smoke haze, her eyes narrowed, her jaw tight.

“Is that all?”

“No, the night my father died, he mentioned a buksbom, which is Norwegian for box. I wondered if you had any idea what box he might have been referring to.”

“And if I know, you think you can just waltz in here, threaten to charge me for the broken furniture, and then ask for my help?” She blew smoke directly toward Ruby. “Little girl, you just ain’t got no sense a’tall.”

Ruby ignored the voice that counseled quiet and leaned forward. “And I suppose you are not only planning on my failing, but doing all you can to make sure it happens. Ripping out signs, warning people to stay away.” Ruby inhaled and almost choked on the smoke. “We will make a success of Dove House, and you have the choice to join us or take yourself elsewhere.” She rose to her feet and gave her skirt a twitch. “You let me know what you decide.”

“Oh, I will, little girl, you can bet your corset I will.” The enmity glittering from Belle’s eyes made a shiver run up Ruby’s back as she stalked to the door.

Little girl, eh?
She shut the door carefully behind her, even though slamming it would have felt wonderfully refreshing. There was no way she would return to the kitchen in this frame of mind, so instead she made her way upstairs so she could stand in the open window and get some clean air.

In front of the window she opened the letter from the bank and read it once, then again. Another demand for payment. And she’d promised Charlie they’d go to Dickinson tomorrow. Was there anywhere else her father owed money? Some inheritance this was.Would tearing up floorboards reveal the buksbom? The nerve of Belle. The rage that had burned so hotly previously flared again. She didn’t like it before, and she didn’t like it now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

This place was driving her crazy. Belle had to go.

“Ruby, can I help?” Opal pleaded with her sister. “I know Belle didn’t mean it.” She leaned against her sister’s arm. “She won’t have no”—Opal flinched and corrected her bad gram-mar—“ any place to go, least not here in Little Missouri.”

“Did she send you up to plead her case?”

“No. I just know you will be sad and worried about her and then Daisy gets worried about you and I get worried about Daisy and Charlie worries about all of us.”

And Belle just blithely goes about whatever she wants without paying much attention to anyone else. Unless, of course, they get in her way
. Yet Far was concerned about someone taking care of the girls. Did that include Belle, or did he realize she’d take care of herself, while the others couldn’t? One thing for sure, Belle didn’t want to do any of the work around Dove House. Unless one wanted to call dealing cards for hours every evening work. And while she was thinking about it, did she trust Belle to turn over the house portion of the evening’s hands? She thought about that for a moment. Did she have any real basis for her doubt, or was it because she wanted Belle gone on general principles?

“What are you going to do?” Opal turned back from the window.

Ruby sighed. While she’d never considered herself a sighing person, lately she caught herself doing so more and more. “Opal, I wish I knew.” She headed for the stairs. “What I do know is that Charlie and I are catching the train for Dickinson, and I better be ready. That train waits for no one.”

“Not even the president of the United States?”

“Well, maybe, but since he isn’t here . . .”

“I wish I could go with you.”

“Perhaps next time.”

Opal followed her down the stairs. “Do you think Captain McHenry will come back from patrol one of these days? I sure would like to go riding again.”

“Me too.” At least when she was riding, she hadn’t been thinking about Dove House. She’d been too busy trying not to fall off the horse. Besides, she wanted him back for Opal’s birthday in two days. Keeping the party a secret was getting harder by the day.

“Good morning.” Cimarron came in through the back door. “You all need to go outside and see the sun setting the dewdrops to blazing. Some house sparrows are building a nest on the back porch, and Cat thinks they are going to provide her dinner. I explained to her that mice are her food, not birds.”

“And she understood you?” Milly asked.

“Most certainly. I promised her milk if she would come inside and leave the birds alone.” She glanced down, and sure enough, Cat sat at her feet, the tip of her tail twitching as if counting the seconds until the promise was fulfilled.

Opal returned from the pantry with a saucer of milk, which she set on the floor at the back of the stove, out of the way of human feet. Cat did not like her tail stepped on. The last one to make that mistake wore claw marks on her ankle.

The bell announcing a customer sent Milly out the door to the dining room, coffeepot in hand.

Cimarron turned the bacon in a skillet on the stove. “Hard to believe, but I’m getting homesick for greeting the folks out there.”

“But—”

“I know, Daisy. One of the men will recognize me, so I’ll stay in back for a while longer, but still . . .”

“Breakfast is nearly ready.” Daisy slid a platter into the oven.

“What are we having?” Ruby asked.

“Fried cornmeal mush is in the oven, bacon about done, eggs if anyone wants them, and warmed canned peaches.” Cimarron flipped bacon onto a platter.

Milly hurried through the door. “Two orders including eggs.” She set two plates on a tray and, using a folded towel, took the platter from the oven and dished up several slices before setting the platter in the middle of the table. “There’s plenty more to be fried if we need it.” As soon as the eggs were flipped and then dished onto the plates, she backed out the door carrying the tray.

Ruby watched as each of them took part in the meal preparation and serving, talking back and forth, laughing and doing whatever had to be done without anyone prompting them.

What a difference from the early days. She filled her plate and sat down, mentally running through all she had to do before boarding the train. And that included packing an overnight bag.

“With Charlie and me both gone, someone needs to make sure that any new guests are checked in properly.”

“I will,” Daisy volunteered.

“Milly and I’ll clean rooms today.” Opal took the chair next to her sister. “After we go fishing. We’ll serve fried fish for supper.”

“You’ll stay away from the deep pools.”

“Ruby.” Opal rolled her eyes. “You say that every time.”

“If you’re going to be on the river, you have to learn to swim.”

“Still too cold for that—give the river time to warm up some first.” Cimarron shivered for emphasis.

“You can swim?”

“Of course. My brothers—”

“I know. Your brothers taught you.” Opal finished the sentence.

“Actually they just threw me in the water, and I kinda taught myself. One of them yelled ‘Kick,’ and I did, and when I got out of that water, I went over and kicked him a good one.”

“Then what happened?” Opal’s eyes were round as her plate.

“They all laughed so hard one of them fell in the river backward. Nearly drowned.”

“What did your mother say?”

“Didn’t have no ma by then. She died birthing another baby.”

“Oh.” Opal glanced at Ruby. “Same thing happened to my mor, but it was me who killed her.”

“Opal Marie Torvald, you did not kill our mor.”

“Then God did?”

“No, not that either. Sometimes those things just happen. It’s part of life.”

Ruby dropped her dirty dishes in the dishpan on the stove. When Milly came back through the door, Ruby motioned toward the table. “You eat, and I’ll go take care of our guests.”

“Table two wants more coffee, and table one asked for another helping of fried mush.”

Ruby filled the orders, greeted their three guests, and then headed back upstairs to pack. She changed into her red traveling costume, set her hat in place with a jeweled hatpin, and took her satchel back downstairs with her. She rubbed her midsection where it felt like bubbling mush. The thought of meeting with Mr. Davis, the manager at the bank in Dickinson, made her want to run farther down the river and hide behind the rocks so no one could find her. Just because her father had dealt with this man didn’t mean he would be helpful to her. She’d thought to include the letters from her father to prove who she was and a list of the changes she had made in Dove House.

“Train coming,” Charlie announced.

“I’ll be right there.” Ruby hugged Opal as if it might be the last time she saw her. “You behave now, you hear?”

“Ruby.” Hurt looked back from Opal’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, I know you work hard like everyone else here.”

“You could take me along.”

“I’ll keep her out of trouble. Opal, perhaps this afternoon we can start on your piano lessons.” Cimarron stirred the pot of beans cooking on the stove.

Ruby hugged Opal one last time. “All right, you two ready with your baskets?”

Milly and Opal nodded, took up the food prepared to sell on the train, and followed her out the door.

Once they were seated and the train was heading east, in order to ignore the knotting in her middle, Ruby turned to Charlie. “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“How did you and my father get to Little Missouri?”

“After we joined up on the gold strike, we stuck together ever since—Belle too. Per had a streak of good luck at the tables and decided to invest his money, and here we are.”

“Didn’t you ever have a family?”

Charlie looked out the window as if the waving prairie grass was the most intriguing sight he’d ever seen. He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I had me a wife and a little boy.”

“What happened to them?”

“Don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Guess you would call Per and me wanderers at heart. I always thought I’d go back, but then . . .” He shrugged and shook his head. “Just better not to. She prob’ly got a different life and . . .”

Ruby waited. What came over men to not go back? Per and Charlie and most likely many others. Bestemor had called it wanderlust.

“Perhaps sometime you could write and see.”

“Maybe.” He half shrugged. “Only Belle knows all this.”

“I never share a confidence, Charlie.”

“Thank you.”

How can men just walk away from a family?
Ruby shook her head slowly, the tip of her tongue worrying the back of her teeth.

Myriads of other questions droned like pesky mosquitoes, but she kept them to herself and turned her thoughts back to the hotel. Now she wished she’d never asked him.

“Do you think Belle has set the town against me and Dove House?”

Charlie sucked at the gap between his front teeth, then shook his head. “Belle looks out for Belle, and I know she wanted Dove House for herself, thought it her right. But she’s not the sneaky kind. Leastways I don’t think . . .” He twitched his mustache, then smoothed it with one finger.

Don’t think what?
Patience had never been Ruby’s strength.

“Dickinson.” The conductor swayed past. “Dickinson coming up.”

Ruby wove her fingers together, then smoothed her gloves, sure the bank manager would throw her petitions right out the door and say that the funds they had worked so hard to collect would not be sufficient payment. She stepped off the train fighting to keep a smile on her mouth instead of a trembling frown. How had the money disappeared so quickly? But she knew where every dime had gone—into the refurbishing of the hotel.

Charlie unloaded the remaining cases of whiskey and commandeered a dolly to deliver the cases back to the store. They had decided they would get a better price returning the liquor rather than selling it to Williams.

“Do you want me to go with you, Ruby?”

“Do you think that would be better?”

“I believe so. I accompanied your father at times.”

“Fine.” Amazing how the load lifted somewhat from her shoulders. If only she could get the knot out of her middle.

Charlie held open the door of the Dickinson Bank to let her precede him. Together they approached a desk to the right of the doorway. A counter with two clerks behind green shades divided the bank down the middle.

“We’re here to see Mr. Davis,” Charlie explained to the young man behind the desk.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Ah, no, but tell him Miss Torvald is here from Little Missouri.”

The young man rose. “I’ll be right back.”

Trying to ignore her teeming midsection, Ruby glanced around the room. Several men stood in line at the two windows where the clerks waited on them. One woman stood at a window quietly conversing with the cashier. Two plate-glass windows fronted the street where horses and wagons either lined the hitching posts or traveled the rutted road.

“Mr. Davis will see you now.”

Ruby smiled in response. At least she hoped it was a smile. The distance between a smile and a grimace was less than a dimple.

“Good day, Miss Torvald.” A medium man stood behind a shiny oak desk. Medium was the only word she could think of. Medium height, medium weight, medium brown hair, and a medium face, other than a gold tooth that flashed when he smiled. He even wore all medium brown clothing—but for a gold watch fob. He came around from behind the desk and bowed slightly. “Ah, Miss Torvald. I am glad to meet you. I enjoyed doing business with your father and was most distressed to hear of his demise.”

“Th—thank you, Mr. Davis.”

“Please be seated.” He gestured to the chair in front of the desk and returned to his, clasping his hands on the desktop. “Now, how may I assist you?”

“Since you already know that my father died, I am sure you have heard also that I am now the owner of Dove House. The bill you sent, demanding payment. . . ?”

“Yes, it has been six months since I received a payment from your father.”

“He was very ill.”

“I see. Perhaps that is why . . .” He glanced at Charlie.

“Yes, sir. I called on you the last few times. Per—Mr. Torvald asked me not to mention his illness.”

“I see.”

Ruby glanced at the man sitting beside her. Had they been concealing her father’s illness for a reason? And if so, why would they do that?

“So, Miss Torvald, how is it that I may help you?” Mr. Davis clasped his hands on the desk in front of him and waited.

Ruby thought of the money in her reticule. Would it be best to bring that out now to show her good faith? Had the temperature in the room really dropped enough degrees that she wanted to shiver?
Far, how could you go and leave me like this?

She mentally squared her shoulders and leaned forward slightly, again hoping that the motions on her face indicated a smile. “Since I am now the owner of Dove House, I would like to know the arrangements my father had with you. I’m sure he had hoped to have time to explain things to me, but since his death prevented that, I hoped you could tell me what I need to know.”

“Certainly.” Mr. Davis proceeded to explain to her the dealings he had had with Per, from the initial deposit to the building transactions and on to the furnishing and operating expenses. “Your father had an open account that he paid quarterly and a savings account that now has a zero balance since we had to use that to pay for the last two quarters.” He glanced to Charlie. “Since Mr. Torvald had always kept his account current, I am sorry I had to write such a firm letter, but the bank cannot carry an account in arrears for long. You understand that.”

Both Charlie and Ruby nodded.

“So I am hoping you have sufficient funds to bring the note up to date.”

At no point did a smile mar the man’s medium face.

“I have some cash with me, but I would like to know the amount owed on the account.”

Mr. Davis glanced down the page on the desk in front of him. “Six hundred two dollars and fifty-one cents.”