Ruby (8 page)

He reached down, stumbled forward, picked up his hat, and slapped it against his leg before settling it back on his head and striking off to what constituted the remainder of the town.

Ruby closed her eyes.
Lord, what have we gotten into here? Is all of this indeed your will for us? Or are we wandering in some desert?
She shoved her hands in her apron pockets and felt the envelopes she’d hidden there. Her father’s letter and his will and testament in the left and the envelope of money in the right.

They couldn’t just stay in their room. She had to find the ledgers and make some sense of all this. But when she thought of leaving Opal in the room alone, she almost laughed.

What would Mrs. Brandon do in a situation like this?

Mrs. Brandon would never be in a situation like this
. Ruby most certainly agreed with that thought.
Think, Ruby, think. What is it I must do first? Crawl into bed and pull the covers up over my head? Take the gold piece Mrs. Brandon gave us and buy return tickets to New York City?
After all, what was keeping them here? She could just take the money in the envelope and call that their inheritance.

“Take care of the girls.”
Her father’s voice rang in her ears.
“You promise?”
And she had. She had given him her word that she would see to the girls. But if one of “the girls” was Belle, she certainly didn’t want or need any caring for, and it didn’t look like the others did either. Except for Milly, the chambermaid, who didn’t look old enough or strong enough to be taking care of anyone.

“Ruby, I’m hungry.”

“All right. Let’s go prepare something for supper.” She started to put the envelopes in one of their carpetbags but stopped when she remembered how her father’s room looked when she and Opal went searching for the money.
But surely no one would come in our room. You are getting far too suspicious
.

Ha. She made sure the envelopes were secure in her deep pockets and guided Opal ahead of her out the door, a door to which, while it had a lock, she had no key. She’d ask Charlie where to find it when she saw him.

“Ah, Milly?”

“Yes, miss?”

They’d met her just going into Per’s room with fresh sheets and a quilt in her arms.

“Do you want some help with that?”

“What?” Milly stared around, then glanced from the bundle in her arms to Ruby. “I’m just going to make up the bed like Belle told me. I washed everything real good.”

“I’m sure, but an extra set of hands always makes a job easier.”

“You would help me?” If dumbfounded had a look, the girl wore it.

“Why not?” Ruby reached for the quilt, a lovely crazy quilt done in velvets, with intricate overstitching. The jewel tones glowed in the light from the lamp on the hall wall.

“Opal, you put on the pillowcases.” She turned to Milly. “Do you usually iron these first?”

“Iron pillowcases?”

“I see.” Life had indeed been different at the Brandons’. She went on around the bed so as to let Milly set the pace. Together they spread and tucked the sheets before Ruby asked another question. “How long have you been working here?”

“Two years or so.”

They smoothed the top sheet in place.

“Do you have any idea how long my father and Belle were married?”

“Married?”

Ruby stopped in centering the quilt and stared across the bed at the young woman. “Yes.”

“They wasn’t married. Belle talked about it some, but . . .” She shook her head and jerked on the quilt.

Not married? So that’s what Charlie was hinting about
. Ruby kept from looking at Opal, who she was sure had plenty of questions. “I see.” Perhaps that explained some of her father’s comments in the letter.

“But my Papá’s clothes and Belle’s things are—”

“Opal.”

“But—”

“That is enough.” Ruby came around the end of the bed and took her sister by the arm. “We’ll be in the kitchen making supper, Milly. Please come down as soon as you finish here.”

“Ah, there you are, Miss Torvald.” Charlie greeted her with a smile when she entered the kitchen. “I have someone who wants to pay his respects.”

“Oh, well, of course.” Ruby’s hands automatically went to smooth back the tendrils of hair, and she wished she had glanced in a mirror before coming down.

The door swung open and Charlie ushered in the officer she had seen at the graveside.

“Miss Torvald, Captain Jeremiah McHenry.”

Even in the dim light from the kerosene lamp, his buttons gleamed as if lit from within. She followed the button trail upward to a cleft chin and a smiling mouth bracketed by deep grooves. His hazel eyes smiled easily, the lines radiating from the edges, a mute testimony to a man that saw far distances and enjoyed the journey.

“Miss Torvald, I just wanted to offer my personal condolences on your father’s death. I know coming here must be a shock, and I hope you will let me know if there is anything I can do to make your stay easier.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your offer. My sister and I have a great deal to become accustomed to here.”

“Do I take it that you will be staying?”

“For a time, anyway. Would you like to sit down?” Ruby glanced toward the table to see Opal standing just inside the door to the staircase. “Captain McHenry, this is my sister, Opal.”

“I’m glad to meet you too, miss.” He turned back to Ruby. “Remember, if there is anything I can do to—”

“Do you have horses?” Opal crossed to stand by her sister.

“Why, yes. At least I have access to army horses. Why?”

“Opal has always wanted to ride and was hoping she could while we are here.”

“Now that is an easy wish to grant. As soon as we return from patrol, I will bring a horse for you to ride.”

“You really will?” Hero worship wrapped Opal’s sigh in awe.

“Yes.” He turned back to Ruby. “If you will excuse me now, I need to return to the cantonment.”

“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” He clicked his heels and, with a slight bow, left via the swinging door that led to the saloon.

“Opal, that was not very mannerly.”

“But he said to ask if there was something he could do, and so I did.” Opal squared her shoulders. “I said please and thank you.”

“That you did. Let’s see what we can find for supper.”
Perhaps one of us will get a wish come true out of this . . . this . . .
She couldn’t think of an adequate word.

Ignoring the sounds from the saloon, Ruby found a bag of potatoes and set Opal to peeling them while she sliced some of the ham she had discovered in the pantry. When Milly joined them, Ruby set her to making biscuit dough.

“Who does the cooking here?”

“Mostly me and Charlie.”

“And the others?”

“By the time they take care of themselves and their clothes and things, there ain’t a lot of time left. That’s what your pa hired me for, and that’s
all
he hired me for.”

“I see.” But she didn’t see at all.

When supper was ready, the three of them sat down to eat.

“What about the others?”

“I usually leave some things out, and they help themselves when they want.”

“I see.”
I’m beginning to sound like an echo. What is going on here?

“Do you have a horse?” Opal looked up from cutting her potatoes.

“Nope.”

“The captain says he has one.”

“Oh, the army has lots of horses. But if you need one, you can rent ’em over to the livery.”

“No,” Ruby stared at her little sister.

“I didn’t ask yet.”

“I know.”

“Gets right purty here in the spring. Grass greens up and flowers bloom near to everywhere.”

Ruby smiled across the table. “Really, Milly. How nice.”

“Maybe we can stay awhile, Ruby? Maybe if the captain takes too long, we could rent two horses and go out riding to see the country. Maybe we’ll see buffalo. There was a picture of one in a book I saw.”

“Nah, there ain’t too many of those left, but you can see deer and elk. Some folks have brought in cattle too.”

Ruby listened to the two talk with one ear while she puzzled out how to find the ledger books and how to set up a meeting with everyone at once so she could read her father’s last will and testament.

“Do you know where the ledgers are kept, Milly?”

“Ledgers?”

“The big books that my father kept his records in.”

“Oh, Charlie has those.”

“After supper, could you ask Charlie to bring them in here?”

“I s’pose.” The look she gave Ruby clearly asked why she didn’t do that herself.

Ruby ignored the look. “Opal, when we are finished, you can wash the dishes.”

“Oh, I just leave ’em in a pan of soapy water on the back of the stove.” Milly offered.

“I see.” Ruby nodded and swallowed. Getting the kitchen cleaned up might be her first order of business, after the ledgers of course. And after they all had a meeting of the minds.

“I think I’ll write notes to everyone and set up a meeting time. You can slide them under their bedroom doors.”

“Notes? Like in writing?” At Ruby’s nod Milly shook her head. “Belle and Charlie are the only ones who can read.”

“Oh.” Despite all her good training from her mother, her grandmother, and Mrs. Brandon, Ruby leaned her elbows on the table and rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. Was nothing possible here?

“Please ask Charlie to come in here. Tell him it will only be for a moment.”

“Yes, miss.” Milly resumed her distance.

“Opal, you wash the dishes while I go over the ledgers.” Unless of course, Charlie refused to bring them to her. Then what?

CHAPTER NINE

“Who do you think did it?” Opal asked.

Ruby stared from her sister to the unmitigated mess of their room. Drawers pulled out, valises gaping open, their trunk riffled, dresses and underthings tossed like a big wind had blown through.

“I don’t know. But I have a good idea.”
Who but Belle would do such a thing?
Ruby rubbed her forehead again. The headache that had been creeping in now had taken up residence with a vengeance.

But if not Belle—and how could they accuse her without proof—then who? Milly had been with them most of the time. That left Charlie, Cimarron, or Jasmine. Or what if someone else came up from the saloon, or what if just anybody came in and it wasn’t just their room that was riffled? With no locks on the doors, anything was possible. Ruby slumped against the post at the foot of the bed. Rubbing her forehead was doing no good, the resident hammer wielder refused to respond to such measures.

Opal sat down beside her. “You want I should make you a cup of tea?”

Right now a cup of tea sounded like a gift straight from heaven, but she daren’t let Opal out of the room by herself— who knew what kind of trouble she could get into.

Whatever made me think we should come out here like this? We are on the verge of nowhere, no father, an enterprise that is feeling shadier by the minute, people who really don’t want us here, people of questionable moral fiber, a town
—She snorted at that thought, which made for a syncopation in the pounding of her head. Hamlet? Village? What would you call this place but a sinkhole bound to the land by the railroad?

“Perhaps some fresh air would help.” She made her way to the window and, using every muscle God gave her, lifted the lower sash so fresh air could blow through and perhaps take her headache with it. She sank down on her knees and rested her crossed arms on the sill. Cheek on the back of her wrist, she tried to think of something besides the hammering in her head and their absurd situation. She heard Opal’s steps crossing the room and felt the girl’s hand on her head. With gentle fingers Opal stroked Ruby’s hair, starting from the crown of her head and down the length of blond curls that had not been bound into their usual coil or bundled into a snood.

“Your hair is so pretty,” Opal whispered, as if a regular voice would break the spell that was weaving comfort in the dimming day.

“Umm.” Thank you was more than Ruby could manage. She let her eyes stay closed, in spite of a loud shout she heard from down below. This one at least sounded like a greeting rather than a beating. Had Charlie thrown the other man out or had someone else? And what could the man have done that warranted such action? Mentally she slammed the door on such thoughts and concentrated instead on Opal’s generous gift.

“Would you like me to brush your hair?”

“If you’d like.”

The brushing commenced after Opal located the brush—no simple task—removed the pins and ribbon that held the curls back off Ruby’s face, and stroked the brush through the riotous strands. She heard the sparks snapping in the dry air.

“Could almost start a fire with the light flashes here.” Opal’s voice wore a dreamy quality, as if she were enjoying the brushing as much as Ruby.

Ruby was almost asleep when she realized she was getting chilled. She started to push herself to her feet, when Opal asked, “How’s your head now?”

Ruby paused, halfway up and tilted her head to one side and then the other. “Why, it is gone. That’s amazing. Thank you.” She slammed the window shut, and hands on hips, stared around the room. “Let’s get this mess back in order and then—”

“Then you could read to me.”

Ruby started to decline, remembered the wonderful hair brushing, and smiled instead. “I think that is a very good idea.” She took her blue ribbon from Opal and retied her hair. Getting the room back in order wouldn’t take nearly the effort of cleaning it thoroughly or of determining who their assailant was. The motive was apparent, at least to Ruby. They were searching for either money or the letter. If it was money, everyone fit the bill. If the letter, that left Belle or Charlie. Unless, of course, Belle had told someone else about the letter.

With the thoughts chasing each other round and round, she could sense the return of the headache.

“Talk to me, Opal.”

“Why?” The sunrise on Opal’s face made Ruby smile.

“I know, usually I’m asking you to be quiet, but right now I don’t want to think myself into a headache again, so tell me what you’ve learned about Dove House in your forays.”

Opal folded up her nightdress. “Ah, there are mice everywhere.”

“Wonderful.”

“We could get a cat to take care of that problem.”

“True.”

“You mean it?”

“Did I say that?”

“Sort of. But can we have a kitten?”

“I’d rather have a cat that knows how to hunt.” Ruby rehung two dresses in the armoire.

“Did you know there is a hen house out in the back?”

“No. How did you find that out?”

“I looked out the door and saw chickens in a fence.”

“So now we know where the eggs come from. Was there a cow there too?” Ruby beckoned Opal to help remake the bed.

“Not here, but next door.”

A knock on the door caught their attention.

“Yes?” Ruby plumped a pillow and set it back on the bed.

“It’s Milly. I brung the big books.”

“Thank you.” Ruby crossed the room and opened the door. She took the leather-bound ledgers and turned to set them down.

“Would you like some hot water for washing?”

“Why, yes, that would be very nice.”

“I, ah, want to thank you for supper tonight. It’s nice to have a real lady in the house.”

“But . . .” Ruby wisely skipped what she was going to say. “I’m glad you liked it. Tomorrow you will have to show me where things are kept.”

“I will. I’ll bring the water right up.” Milly turned with a little wave and headed back down the hall.

Ruby glanced after her to see a man walking ahead of her, and it looked as if he came out of Jasmine’s room. Could he possibly be the one who ransacked their room? Should she follow and accuse him? Or should she wait and ask Jasmine, whom she hadn’t even really met yet, if anything was missing from her room? But perhaps she was mistaken, and he was one of the guests staying here at Dove House.

“Are you all right?” Opal joined her in the doorway.

“Yes, I believe so.” Ruby closed the door. She and Opal had just settled themselves against the pillows to read when another knock came on the door. Thinking it Milly, Ruby called, “Come in.”

Charlie stuck his head around the door. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, ah . . .” Ruby scrambled off the bed and shook out her skirts. She could feel her neck growing warm.
Do I invite him. . . ?
But a man in a woman’s room? What would people think? Of course Opal was here too, but still . . .

“I can come back later if you want.”

Oh, for a sitting room.

“No, I know how busy you are. We can talk now.” She opened the door and motioned him in, leaving the door partway open. “Milly is bringing hot water.”

“Good.” Charlie nodded toward the ledgers on top of the repacked trunk. “I see you got them. If you have any questions, just ask. I’ll tell you what I can.”

“Ah, good. I plan to study them later tonight.” She took in a deep breath. “But in the meantime, I believe our first order of business is to meet with everyone so that I can read them my father’s letter.”

“You are planning on staying, then?”

“For the time being.” She studied him a moment. Could she trust him? Or was he in league with Belle? Or was she being too suspicious?

“Mr. Charlie, I—”

“Please, miss, just Charlie. I go by Charlie. That’s all anyone knows me by here. Just Charlie.” He cocked his head to the side and shrugged slightly.

So what kind of past was he hiding? Ruby’d not only read of men who went west to start new lives, but she knew one personally. Had anyone ever suspected Per Torvald had left two daughters in New York? What kind of life had he led since his wife died?

“All right, Charlie it is.” She stared at the braided rug in the middle of the floor for a moment. “May I ask you a question?”

“A ’course.”

“How many years did you know my father?”

Charlie scrunched up his face, ticking off thoughts on his fingers. “Five, six years. Met up with him when we first got to the Black Hills. We decided we was safer from the Indians or marauding claim jumpers if’n there was two of us. Been partners ever since.”

“Partners?”

“Well, here I more or less worked for him, being as he had most of the money, ya know.”

No, I don’t know, but how I wish I did
. She nodded. “Thank you.”

“You can ask me anything. I’ll tell you what I can.”

Does that mean the truth or what you can get by with telling me and still hide what I need to know? Ruby Signe Torvald, either you are going to trust this man until he does something that destroys that trust, or you are . . .
The thought wouldn’t finish.

“Would you please tell the others of our meeting time?”

“Which is?”

Stopped again. “What do you recommend?”

“Well, we open at two, so I’d suggest half past noon or one o’clock. How long do you think you’d need?”

To read the letter and will? Five minutes. To fight off the attack?Who knows
. She was absolutely sure Belle would go on the attack even before she was finished reading.

“Let’s say twelve-thirty.”

“Good. In the kitchen or the saloon?”

“The kitchen. We can eat and talk at the same time. Do you know if there is any meat besides ham?”

“Got some bacon. I’ll ask Frank if he could get us a deer. Would help pay off his chit.”

“Chit?”

“You know . . . his account.”

“Men have accounts in the saloon?”

“Only for whiskey or a room. Cards and the other, they pay cash.”

“I see.”

“Most people here get paid only once a month or so or when the army or railroad pays. They pay us when they can, we charge ’em interest.”

“I take it this is all in the ledger?”

“Back pages got a runnin’ total.”

“And what if someone leaves the area without paying?”

“Like Per allus said, you got to trust your customers. ’Course, some folks hereabouts don’t have no chit here.”

His jaw tightened just enough that Ruby noticed.

“I better be gettin’ back.”

“Thank you.” What had he been referring to? Something or someone had caused his clenched jaw.

Charlie met Milly coming in as he was going out and said something to her that brought a real smile to the girl’s pale face.

“Anything else I can bring you?” Milly set the full pitcher in the bowl and turned to catch a glimpse of the book lying open on the bed. “You can read?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Me too.” Opal turned from where she lay on her stomach on the bed, heels in the air.

“Really? Was it hard to learn?”

Ruby waited to see what Opal would say after all her years of muttering how difficult school was.

“No. Just takes time and a good teacher. Didn’t you go to school?”

“Ain’t no schools out here, and my ma couldn’t read neither.”

“Oh.” Opal stared from the open pages to Milly and back. “I could teach you if you want to learn.”

“You would do that?”

“Why not? We played school lots when I was little.”

Ruby thought back to those play school days. Opal had begged so hard to be included that she was learning to read when she was four, not too long after they moved to the Brandon house.

“If we stay, that is.” She cut a look to her sister.

“We’ll be fixing a late breakfast for everyone in the morning. Oh, I should have started bread. You have yeast?”

“We have sourdough.”

“Sourdough?”

“You know, flour and water or milk that you add more to, then use to raise bread.”

“I see. Perhaps you will show me?”

“A ’course. I’ll set it to risin’ right now. It’s a bit late but if’n I leave it on the warming oven, it should grow faster.” She turned to leave, then paused. “Thank you.”

Both Ruby and Opal answered at the same time. “You’re welcome.”

For what, Ruby wasn’t sure, but the smile on the young woman’s face made her look almost pretty. She usually seemed to fade into the woodwork and wore a permanent crease between her pale eyes. Pale and faded were two words that aptly applied to Milly—all of her.

By the time Ruby finally blew out the lamp, she’d read enough of the ledgers to have a pretty fair idea of her father’s business except for the source of income called Hospitality, below which Cimarron’s and Jasmine’s names were listed along with two columns of figures. Did they hold tea parties in the afternoons and charge for them? Or soirees at night? All she’d heard at night was raucous laughter, the tap of dancing feet, and some wild singing. Not the kind of hospitality she’d been raised on, that was for sure. And the word was entered often and for varying amounts, not like room charges, which were always the same per night.

She resolved to ask Charlie in the morning.

The next morning Opal stormed into the kitchen from outside. “That mean old hen pecked me.” The young girl held up her hand where a drop of blood marked the wound.

“I tried to warn you.” Milly set a basket of eggs on the table. “She’s already setting and don’t want us to take her eggs.”

“Setting?” Ruby turned from kneading the bread dough that already had a fine yeasty flavor, thanks to the sourdough Milly had instructed her in using.

Milly gave them both a questioning look. “She wants to hatch chicks so she is setting on the eggs. That’s what hens do.”

Opal looked at the eggs in the basket. “Are there chicks in there?”

Milly rolled her eyes in obvious disgust. “No, those are the eggs we eat.”

Ruby and Opal exchanged baffled looks.

“I’ll explain some other time. You want to come with me to get the milk?”

Opal glanced at Ruby for permission, then followed Milly out the back door. “We got ours in bottles from the milkman in New York. He delivered on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”