Authors: Mary Connealy
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #General, #Historical, #Romance, #Western
She opened the door to Dare’s house and almost stepped back out. It was full of strangers, all of them wearing badges.
She held the door for Glynna and her children. Luke was at Ruthy’s back and slipped a strong hand onto her waist. She relished his support.
As soon as they stepped in, the Rangers doffed their hats and began shuffling out. Ruthy knew she should offer them a meal, try to find a place for them all to sleep, mend their ragged shirts. But she was just too tired.
In all honesty they looked more than capable of caring for themselves.
The men looked at Glynna with admiration as they passed. Ruthy understood, for Glynna was a singularly pretty woman. Their eyes shifted to Ruthy, and she earned flattering looks, too.
Considering the wretched state of her appearance, their
regard served to remind her there weren’t many women around these parts.
When the Rangers were all gone, the house was still plenty full. Dare had washed up and changed to clean clothes. An ugly bruise had formed on his forehead, but otherwise he looked pretty decent. Dare stood talking with Vince, who lay flat on Dare’s examining table, his head heavily bandaged. Able to respond now, Vince spoke in a voice too quiet for Ruthy to make out, but at least he was conscious.
Jonas knelt before the fireplace, adding logs. His right sleeve was cut off, and strips of white cloth dressed his wounded upper arm.
Big John came out of the kitchen, wearing a sling. These men had been through a hard day for a fact.
“I’ve got some stew simmering,” John said. “Come and get it.”
Luke said, “I’m going upstairs to put on a clean shirt.” He headed up, his tread heavy on the stairs. Ruthy wanted to follow him, but then decided to give the man a moment of quiet. She could help serve dinner.
In the hallway, Big John turned his attention to Glynna. “You’re Mrs. Greer, is that right, ma’am?”
Glynna nodded.
“Have you been told that your husband is dead?”
Nodding, Glynna asked in a shaky voice, “Who shot him?”
The way she spoke, so faint, Ruthy wasn’t sure what to expect. Luke had already given Glynna the news, and Glynna’s response had been grim silence. She had no use for her husband, but that didn’t make burying him easy. Still, Luke hadn’t told her any details, including who’d fired the killing shots.
“I did, Mrs. Greer.” Dare came out of his office and stood facing Glynna. He wasn’t going to make this easier on himself. “I didn’t plan to. I hoped to take him alive, but—”
A cry tore out of Glynna’s throat, and she threw herself into Dare’s arms, weeping. Dare staggered back under the impact. His hands lifted as if someone had pulled a gun. His eyes wide with surprise, he looked at Ruthy, then at the children, then at Big John.
“I was about to tell you I killed him, Mrs. Greer.”
Glynna ignored him, and Big John frowned as if he thought he had a hug or two coming.
“Luke shot him, too.” Big John must’ve decided Glynna should know the full truth.
“Thank you.” Glynna managed to get the words out between sobs. Dare lifted his hands a bit higher, then shrugged one shoulder and wrapped his arms around Glynna and held her as she wept.
Ruthy said, “Come and eat, children. Let your ma have a minute to”—throw herself into a man’s arms two hours after her husband died?—“compose herself.”
Janet looked inclined to hide in the folds of Glynna’s skirt. Paul gave Dare a look of such loathing, Ruthy was afraid the young man might shove himself between Glynna and Dare. Ruthy couldn’t blame the youngster. They’d just gotten rid of one man; it was not time yet for another, no matter how much better. But Glynna’s tears had nothing to do with any man except her husband, and she needed to pass through this emotional storm.
“Give her some time, Paul.” Ruthy reached for him. He ducked from letting her touch him, but rested a hand on his little sister’s back with too much maturity for one
so young. Ruthy felt a connection to the kid, probably because she’d had to grow up too young, too.
When they’d been climbing down that cliff, Ruthy had thought she and Paul had reached something of an understanding. He’d worked with her willingly. Now all she saw was sullen anger. The half-grown boy gave a long, burning look at his sobbing mother, then turned and guided Janet into the kitchen.
Luke came back downstairs. He’d washed and put on a clean shirt. Ruthy thought he’d have a black eye tomorrow. He had bruises forming on his neck, and his bottom lip was swollen, but for all that he looked wonderful.
Watching the children go into the kitchen, Luke said, “You come in too, Ruthy. You haven’t eaten all day.”
There’d been a quick breakfast before dawn. The shaky way she felt might be cured by a good meal.
There were more chairs in the kitchen. Usually Dare had four, which was plenty, since Dare and Vince never sat down.
Now there were six, scrounged from her room upstairs.
Six chairs. Nine battered people.
Bending over a massive pot, Big John scooped stew onto a plate, dropped a biscuit on, and turned to hand it to Paul. John stopped, took a long look at the skinny kid reaching for the plate, and added another scoop of stew and a second biscuit. Paul grabbed the stew and a fork and went to a corner of the kitchen, dropping to the floor.
Janet took her food and sat beside her brother. Ruthy decided if they needed another chair, she’d go sit in the corner, too. But she suspected they had enough. Vince wasn’t coming to dinner.
Ruthy got served next. She took the plate and sat down.
Only after she picked up her fork did she realize how tired she was, sitting while someone waited on her. She popped to her feet and swiped the ladle from Big John.
“Sit down and eat. You look worn clean out.” She returned her plate to him.
“I look like a man who got stabbed and left for dead,” Big John said. It was a mark of how bad he felt that he minded her and went to the table to wolf down his meal.
The next serving was Luke’s. “You look a lot better all cleaned up,” she said.
“Yep, a fistfight does nuthin’ but harm a man’s appearance.” Luke took the food and sat across from Big John.
Ruthy looked at the children in the corner behind Luke, eating in silence, then looked at the food supply. Big John had made a vat of stew. “If either of you wants more, there’s plenty.”
Jonas led the way into the room. Glynna was next, her eyes rimmed in red but her shoulders straight and square in a way Ruthy hadn’t seen before. Dare was a step behind.
Giving food to each of them, Ruthy saw even restless Dare drop into a seat. All his energy had been drained. Glynna sat next to Big John, facing her children. Jonas sank into the chair at the head of the table. The table was none too wide, but they managed to squeeze two chairs in. There was one chair left, the one around the corner from Luke.
“Go ahead and sit, Ruthy.” Dare gestured to the chair beside him. “Vince is going to stay flat on his back until morning. Doctor’s orders. He’s already eaten to the extent he’s able.”
Ruthy turned, expecting to see Vince come in, smile, and lean on that door, standing guard as he always did. It didn’t happen.
Vince was ailing.
Dare had a building blown up in his face.
Jonas was shot.
Big John stabbed.
All for Luke Stone, and since she was now Mrs. Stone, it was all for her, too. “Would anyone like more to eat?”
She might’ve felt better if she’d made the stew herself. One more way to say thank you. When no one spoke up, she dished herself up a plate and took a seat.
“What happened to you, John?” Ruthy asked.
“Bullard was fast and mean and he bested me. My horse came and stood guard over me. Leastways that’s where my horse was when I woke up. By guarding me he kept Bullard away from my guns, so my stallion saved my life. Bullard grabbed the horse I had him draped over and rode off. He probably thought he’d killed me, and he came almighty close. He headed for the fray here and never looked back. I was a long time getting to my feet, mounting up, and riding for help.”
“Not so long,” Luke said. “You got here in time. Just exactly in time.”
Big John nodded. “We managed to reconstruct enough of the jail to keep Greer’s men confined until we leave tomorrow. I recognize two of them. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a wanted poster on all of ’em, and that reward money will be given to whichever of you caught ’em. Greer and Bullard confessed in front of three witnesses to killing your pa, so no judge will bat an eye over them being shot.”
Dare and Luke both flinched. Big John looked solemn, but he’d had more time to get tough over this harsh part of his job.
They’d all three had a hand in killing Greer. Big John
could cover his feelings, but Luke and Dare were hurting. Since she had no skill at healing wounds to the heart, Ruthy said, “Would you like more stew?”
For a time the only sound was the scrape of forks on tin plates. There were some second helpings but no one asked Ruthy for them; they just got up and served themselves.
“Mrs. Greer, that ranch is mine.” Luke spoke hesitantly, looking to Ruthy as if asking for help. “I know it’s your home, too. If you want—”
“You and the children can stay out there for as long as you need to,” Ruthy interjected.
Luke nodded and gave her a grateful look.
“No, we’re done with that house.” Glynna laid her fork down with a sharp click. “I never want to set foot in it again.”
“I understand that you want to get away from a place that holds such bad memories, ma’am.” Luke took another bite of stew.
It was thick with vegetables and meat, swimming in savory gravy that smelled wonderful. Ruthy probably should ask Big John for the recipe.
Meeting Glynna’s eyes, Ruthy said, “But you need a place to stay. And the evil wasn’t from the house or the land; it was from your husband. He’s gone now. Why don’t you come out and stay with us just until you’re at full strength. Once you’re healed, we can figure out a new place for you.”
“No, thank you. I’ve got a few dollars—we’ll stay at the boardinghouse, and I’ll look for work.”
“Can’t think what work there’d be for a lady in Broken Wheel,” Dare said. “I hope the town will grow again now with Greer gone, but it’ll be a while.”
“This is Indian territory. It’ll never get too big,” Luke said.
“One thing this town could use,” Jonas said, standing to put his plate in the sink and pour himself another cup of coffee.
“What’s that?” Glynna sat up, interested.
“The man who ran the diner up and left town after the fighting today. He said he was done with this town for good. Can you run a diner, ma’am?”
Glynna’s children both gasped quietly. Ruthy turned to see why.
“I could do that.” Glynna’s hopeful tone caught Ruthy’s attention and distracted her from the young ones.
Sitting forward, Glynna asked, “Would I have to spend a lot of money? I have a bit.” Then she hesitated and looked at Luke. “No, I don’t. It’s all yours. Every cent my husband had was ill-gotten.”
“There’s the building,” Dare said, looking energized by the conversation. “If the owner abandoned it without selling, I’d say it’s yours for the taking. I’ll bet the bachelors in this town—which includes every man except Luke—would be glad to see a woman turn her hand to cooking. You could make a great living at it. In the meantime, you can stay here at my house.”
“My ma isn’t taking up with another man.” Paul stood and took his plate to the dry sink and threw it and his fork in with a sharp clatter.
That stopped all of their talking for a while. Finally, Dare said, “I can see that wouldn’t be right. I’ll stay in Vince’s rooms above his law office.”
“You need to stay and watch over Vince,” Jonas said. “Vince has one bedroom. My house by the church has
two. No bed in one of them, but I can build a bedstead by tomorrow night. For now, you folks take my house. Paul, you can sleep on a bedroll on the floor tonight. I’ll stay at Vince’s. By the time Vince is better, we’ll have had time to sort this all out.”
“There might be a couple of bedrooms above the diner,” Dare said. “If you’re going to run it, you can live there.”
Glynna looked between Paul and Janet. Her lips quivered. Ruthy could see she needed to cry again. She was still bruised. Favoring her arm and making slow moves to protect her ribs. “I’m so sorry I married Flint. Just so sorry, children. I won’t take up with another man. You have my word on it.”
“Never?” Paul asked.
Glynna opened her mouth, hesitated, then said, “Never without your blessing. You have my solemn promise.”
Janet got up and came to Paul’s side. Her quiet was almost as much of an accusation as Paul’s anger.
Nodding, Paul looked from his little sister to his ma to Dare. “Never without our blessing. Agreed.”
For no real reason she could understand, Ruthy thought that was a bad bargain. But the boy’s grim expression eased. Maybe it was best to give him power over this decision, for now anyway.
The sun had set, though there was still a dusky light. Luke said, “I’d like to ride out to my house and stay there tonight, Ruthy. Have you got the energy for one more long ride?”
“Yes, I’d like to go home.” Ruthy had seen the house and, though it had been badly battered by Greer’s temper tantrum, it was a lovely home. She looked forward to starting her life there.
Luke slid his warm, strong hand up to rest on the back of Ruthy’s neck. “Good.”
They all sat silently for a time, until finally Ruthy stirred herself to clear the table. She scooped water out of the wells on Dare’s stove. Glynna came to work beside her, and they had the dishes washed in no time. Big John must have washed up after the Rangers, because there weren’t any dirty plates left from earlier.
“Let me walk you over to the church’s parsonage, Glynna.” Jonas motioned for the children to come along, too. The four of them left.
“I’ve got a room for you upstairs, Big John. Let’s get you to bed.” Dare lifted himself out of his chair with such careful movements, it reminded Ruthy of his almost being blown apart.
“Do you need us to stay?” Ruthy asked. “Luke and I can take a turn sitting up with Vince.”