Calico Brides (29 page)

“Birdie!” The word burst out of Ruth’s mouth at the same time heat rushed into her cheeks. “My only business with

Mr. Blanton concerns the children.”

“Uh-huh.” Birdie sounded doubtful.

At times like this, Ruth wished she hadn’t committed to this sewing circle. Nine months ago, they were all unmarried, with a common passion for helping others. They bonded together in spite of the difference in their ages. Now that she was the only unattached woman in the group, she felt her spinsterhood more than ever. Especially when they kept insisting God had someone special in mind for her.

Beau Blanton. She mustn’t let her imagination—her heart—get carried away because he was one of the rare unmarried men to show his face in Calico. She would treat him like any of the fathers—the married fathers—of her students. Any basis other than friendship would crumble beneath her feet. Even friendship might prove difficult as long as he resisted “charity.” As much as she’d like to avoid the confrontation, she should talk with him about the clothes.

“I can’t go to school today.” Dru remained in her nightdress while Guy was ready to leave for town in plenty of time for the first school bell.

“You have no cause to stay home. Allan and I will be busy all day. I don’t want you staying here by yourself.” Beau wiped a weary hand across his eyebrow. “I thought you liked school.”

“I do.” A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she shuffled her feet without looking at him. “Uncle Beau, I only have three dresses, and two of them don’t fit.”

Beau looked at her nightwear. The hem hit her leg halfway between her ankle and her knee. It fit a little more snugly than most nightclothes. He tried to remember what she wore yesterday. It seemed to fit her fine.

“What about the dress you wore yesterday?” A pretty soft blue calico with small pink flowers, from what he remembered.

“I wore it all last week. It’s in the wash. I can’t wear any of my other clothes.” Her voice wobbled. “I’ll wash it today with the rest of our clothes. I can go tomorrow.”

Peeved, Beau considered demanding that she get dressed so he could see for himself. But he couldn’t blame her. All the children’s belongings had burned along with the house, and Dru had obviously outgrown what people had given her. He stretched his memory back. Come to think of it, Dru had worn the same dress every day since his arrival. He had been too busy to notice. His mouth worked around the impossibilities presented by the situation.

“Very well. You can wash the dress today and return to school tomorrow. And I’ll see about getting you something else to wear.” Beau had seen some ready-to-wear dresses for sale at Finnegan’s Mercantile. Maybe one of them would fit, or someone—the seamstress? Dru herself?—could adjust it to fit. “Allan will draw the water for laundry before he comes out to help me.” Next Monday Beau would have to figure out a different way to get the clothes washed. Dru couldn’t run the household and go to school. To respect Charlotte’s wishes, Dru had to stay in school.

What Beau would do instead, he didn’t know. He turned the matter over in his mind throughout the day as he and Allan worked on plowing up the fields. Even if they couldn’t get a crop for the fall, the plants would help enrich the soil for spring.

“Uncle Beau?” Allan ran up the row to where Beau worked.

Working with his nephew didn’t leave Beau much time for meditating. Before he came to the homestead, he figured nothing could be harder than the long, hard days of riding herds. Who would have thought that taking care of three nearly grown children would demand so much more of him? Why didn’t Allan know more about the land that was his heritage?

“I found these by the river. I think they’re wild onions, but I’m not sure.” Allan held the bulbs up to Beau.

The aroma tickled Beau’s nostrils. He grunted. “Onions. They’ll taste good in our potato soup tonight.”

Allan grinned as if pleased with bringing in something useful. He glanced down the road to town. “Guy’s home from school.”

More dust than a single horse should kick up flew through the air along the tracks made by wagon wheels. As they drew near, he could see that Guy was not alone.

Why couldn’t Miss Ruth Fairfield leave him alone?

Y
ou did what?” Beau didn’t touch the garments of folded cotton in the bag. “Miss Fairfield!”

Dru waved from her spot by the open campfire where she was cooking supper. The mild weather made a number of everyday tasks easier while it lasted. Winter fell early and hard in this part of Kansas.

Ruth must have caught sight of the scowl on his face, because she answered with a scowl of her own. A scowl that showed itself in stormy gray eyes, creasing the lines at the edge of her eyelids, but didn’t erase the pleasant expression on her face. “Professional smilers”—that’s the way Beau’s father had characterized pastors one time. Unbidden, a smile came to his face, and the teacher relaxed.

With a glance at Dru, Ruth lowered her voice. “Dru in particular is in need of new clothes. Since you haven’t been around them for a while, you can’t know how much she’s sprouted up.” She looked as if she had more to say, but she kept her mouth closed. “The boys, as well.”

Beau chomped on a blade of grass before he said something he might regret later. Why hadn’t Dru mentioned her need for new clothing before Ruth had decided to intervene?

Ruth leaned a little closer. “I was concerned when she didn’t come to school today. Guy mumbled something about her dress.”

Beau’s mouth tightened at that. Hadn’t Percy taught his children not to blab about family matters?

Ruth must have caught his expression. “Don’t worry. He didn’t talk out of turn. I wouldn’t last long as a teacher if I couldn’t worm the truth out of a reluctant witness.” She held the bag by the tips of her fingers, ready to drop it into Beau’s hands. “I started the dress while Dru was still living with us. Please accept it.”

She lifted one finger from the bag, and Beau almost reached out to catch it. On the top, he spotted brown cotton. It looked very much like a man’s shirt. Instead of accepting the bag, he removed the shirt and shook out its folds. “This isn’t for Dru.”

“No.” Her expression remained calm, but fire burned in her eyes. “The boys also lost everything in the fire. Most of what they have to wear are hand-me-downs. I thought they would appreciate something that fits right.” Now worry wormed its way into those expressive eyes. “I didn’t have their exact measurements, so I hope these fit all right.”

Beau brought the shirt up close, studying the workmanship. The shirt was quality, made of good, sturdy material, with fine stitching to match. He grunted in approval. These clothes could withstand the kind of stress two youths could put on them. He had a couple of shirts Allan and Guy could wear, but they were worn out and torn in a few places.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Beau motioned for Dru to join them. “I bet Miss Fairfield will be happy to tell you whatever you missed today.” He didn’t look back as he ducked into the soddy.

Ruth stared at Beau’s departing back. He had dismissed her, but at least he had taken the bag of clothes with him. She wouldn’t allow her disappointment over his attitude to interfere with what Dru needed. She headed in Dru’s direction and began taking down Levis hanging on the line.

“I can tell you’ve been busy today with the laundry.”

“Someone had to.” Dru had internalized a lot of her emotions since her parents died, acting like the little mother of her two brothers—not that they always appreciated her interference. Ruth had hoped that the arrival of an adult relative would allow Dru to once again become a twelve-year-old enjoying her girlhood, but it appeared that hadn’t happened.

When Dru stirred something in the kettle over a campfire, Ruth knew her fears were well grounded. No wonder the girl had almost fallen asleep in class a couple of times already.

Ruth spied a flat iron heating in the campfire and the pile of clothing needing attention. On top sat Dru’s blue dress, which she had hardly removed since she received it. “I’ll finish this for you while you take care of the Levis.” She made a mental note to find someone to help with household tasks if Beau would accept the help.

“Can you stay and eat with us?” Dru sounded wistful. “It’s just beans with some salt pork.”

Ruth made an on-the-spot decision. This early in September, she could join them for an early supper and get home before full dark. “I would love that, as long as I leave before evening falls.”

Dru’s step sped up at Ruth’s words. She whisked up a batch of corn bread in the iron skillet. Last of all, she started coffee boiling.

The cow stuck her head over the fence and lowed softly. Ruth fed her a handful of grass and glanced at her udder. It was shudderingly full. She glanced around for a milk pail. Guy ran up. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.”

Allan followed at a slower pace. He leaned next to Ruth against the fence. Dark circles she hadn’t seen before marred his face, and his shoulders slumped over. When he removed his gloves, Ruth could see the angry red on his blistered hands. He tried to hide a grimace, but she could read him as easily as her Bible.

“I’ve missed you in school.” With only a year to go before he finished his public school education and hopefully headed to college, every day of school missed was a tragedy.

He shrugged, his silence saying volumes.

“I have a new book you might like.” Although Allan especially liked mathematics—even at times exceeding Ruth’s understanding of advanced geometry—he also won spelling contests and poetry recitation contests on a regular basis. He wouldn’t stay away from school of his own accord. She was as sure of that as she was of anything.

She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, disrupt his uncle’s authority with his new family.
Oh Lord, give me strength to hold my tongue
. “If you like, I can send it home with Guy tomorrow.”

“Please.” Much youthful angst and despair came through in that single word.

Ruth wished she could hug him to take the pain away, but she couldn’t do that with the lad who was more man than boy. “I’m praying for all of you as you make this transition. But for now…I’ll make sure you have books to read.”

Ruth set up an ironing stand and finished the dress and one shirt before Beau came back outside. The bag hung limp from his hand. Good, he had accepted the clothing.

Supper passed pleasantly, and soon Ruth had started gathering dishes. Beau carried the last remaining platter to the sink. “I’d like to speak with you before you leave.”

She nodded. “This won’t take much longer. What is it about?”

He reached for his back pocket.

Beau watched Dru and Ruth at work while he waited in the doorway. Dru looked livelier than she had since his arrival. Ruth had dived right into ironing. He grunted. Maybe taking on whatever task needed doing came naturally to a pastor’s daughter. For Dru’s sake, he was glad. All of them were working as hard as they could. Except maybe Allan. He was always a step behind. Beau had to work twice as hard to make up for his slack.

He needed to find a way to make life easier for Dru. Ruth might know of a woman willing to take on some of the household duties. Which would take more money. Beau’s new responsibilities ate into what he had saved to sink into a ranch of his own someday. Finishing his contract for the current season and collecting his full pay was the reason he had arrived so long after the fire.