Linda Ford (16 page)

“Good. I’ll have the buckboard out front in an hour.” He gave her a pointed look. “And leave the cat here.”

Ruby nodded. “Of course.” Then she grinned impishly. “After all, I can see you aren’t ready to be climbing any more trees just yet.”

He rolled his eyes at that, but refrained from comment.

“That’ll give me time to pack you a picnic lunch,” Inez interjected. “That way you won’t have to worry about hurrying back.”

Her words put Griff in mind of the previous picnic he’d shared with Ruby. And actually, thinking back on that, he’d enjoyed himself more than he’d thought he would. Even the tree-climbing incident hadn’t been
totally without merit. After all, it wasn’t every day a man got to play the role of knight errant for a pretty girl’s benefit.

L
ater that morning, as Griff drove the buckboard along one of the drier paths through Hawk’s Creek, he decided it was time he learned a bit more about Ruby. “You mentioned you moved to Cleebit Springs when you were seven. Where did you live before that?”

She grabbed hold of the wagon seat on either side of her. “I’ve moved around most of my life. My ma died when I was three, and afterward, Pa just couldn’t seem to settle down in one place. We lived in towns all across Kentucky, Arkansas and Louisiana before we landed in Texas.”

“Then you landed in Cleebit Springs and settled down.”

“Not entirely. I moved around a lot within the town. I told you before that most of the town had a hand in raising me. I lived with a number of families as I was growing up.”

Did growing up that way account for her restlessness, her burning desire to move to a new place?
Was she one of those who always looked over fences, searching for greener pastures, a person who couldn’t be content with what she already had? No wonder she wasn’t happy with small-town life.

Which meant she’d never be happy with ranch life, either.

Now where had that thought come from?

He flicked the reins a bit more forcefully than necessary.

“Tell me about your brother and sister,” she asked. “You mentioned that they’re both married. Do they have children?”

“Yep, they each have a kid of their own and are helping raise another.” Had leaving Hawk’s Creek been worth it to them? They definitely seemed happy.

“What do you mean, raising another?”

“Ry has a foster daughter. Belle, a family friend who lived here at the ranch when we were younger, passed away a little over a year ago and named him as her daughter’s guardian.” Had Belle even realized that Griff had loved her? He’d never told her, and then he’d lost the chance when she fell in love with another. It had hurt more than he cared to admit when he learned she’d entrusted Ry and not him with her daughter’s life. “Viola is nine years old. Then last year, Ry and his wife, Josie, had a little boy of their own. Named him Travis after my father.”

“And your sister?”

“Sadie married a man from New York who moved to Texas to get a fresh start for himself and his young half sister, Penny. Penny’s ten now. They also had a
baby last year, a little girl they named Susannah.” He smiled, remembering. “I went down to Knotty Pine to spend some time with them this past summer. Those are two of the sweetest little babies you ever want to see.” Would he ever have children of his own?

“They sound like lovely people,” she said. “And what a diverse family you have. I can’t wait to meet them.” Her expression took on a wistful cast. “You certainly have a lot to be thankful for.”

She was right of course. There was no reason for him to be focused on what he didn’t have. He needed to take a page from her book and do more looking for the bright side.

Griff spent the rest of the morning showing her his herds of cattle and some of his favorite spots on the place. There was the pond where he and his siblings had learned to fish, the tree where he and Ry had found a honeycomb and gotten unmercifully stung in their efforts to retrieve it, and the small meadow where his mother had liked to picnic.

Ruby seemed to take genuine delight in the tour, exclaiming over the beauty of the landmarks he pointed out or laughing at his stories. It was such a pleasure to see the ranch through fresh,
appreciative
eyes that he found himself trying to find more and more things to show her or tell her about this place he loved so much. And seeing her face light up with that warm glow when she was enjoying herself was just an added bonus.

Near noon, Griff pulled the buckboard to a stop atop a rise the family had nicknamed Hickory Hill
because of the three hickory trees that dominated its crest. He often came here when he wanted to be alone, to think over some tough decision or to just enjoy the view. From here it felt as if a person could see forever.

He set the brake and turned to her. “I thought this would be a good place for us to eat that lunch Inez packed. The ground here should be a lot drier than the flatter land we just drove over.”

“It’s certainly a lot sunnier than our last picnic spot.”

He hopped down and turned to assist her. Once her feet were on the ground, he tucked her hand on his arm rather than release it.

To keep her from stumbling, he told himself. “Before we eat, I want to show you something.”

She smiled. “Your tour hasn’t disappointed me yet.”

He led her to the crest of the hill then waited for her reaction. A reaction that proved quite satisfactory.

“Oh, Griff, the view is breathtaking.” She squeezed his arm. “I think this is my favorite place of all the ones you’ve shown me today.” She whirled around, beaming. “But it’s all been so beautiful, so alive, even in this season. I can see why you love it here so much.”

Did that mean she loved it, as well? “There are spots I couldn’t show you today because the ground is still so wet—wouldn’t want to mire the wagon. Maybe we’ll have another chance to ride out before you leave.”

Her smile took on an unexpectedly shy quality.
“I’d like that very much.” She removed her hand and turned back toward the wagon. “I think I’m ready for that picnic now.”

When they reached the buckboard, Griff stepped ahead of her and handed her the blanket. He watched her spread the cloth in the sunniest spot she could find as he retrieved the hamper. What was she thinking? Had she reevaluated what she wanted out of life at all or did she consider all of this just a pleasant interlude on her way to something more to her liking?

And why did the answer to that seem to matter so much?

Not liking the direction his thoughts had taken, Griff set the hamper down on the cloth in front of her. When she opened it, her eyes widened. “Goodness, Inez must have thought she was feeding a half-dozen people.”

He smiled. “You should know Inez by now—she doesn’t do anything halfway.”

She laughed outright at that and then they both dug in.

“Did you and Inez get the whole Thanksgiving Day menu planned out yesterday?” he asked as he reached for a drumstick.

“For the most part. It’s definitely an ambitious undertaking. It looks as though she’s planning to cook enough to feed an army.”

“Like I said, Inez doesn’t do anything halfway. Did she let you have much say in the planning?”

“Actually, she took quite a few of my suggestions. She’s even going to let me cook one of my own fa
vorites, venison and gingered-parsnip pie. Mrs. Tallmadge is the best cook in all of Cleebit Springs. When I lived with her family, she taught me how to cook it.”

Griff considered that as he took a bite of his chicken. “You know,” he said carefully, “you’ve mentioned living with the families of the town doctor, the midwife, the checker players, the general store owner, the encyclopedia lady and now the town’s best cook. Exactly how many families did you live with growing up?”

She shifted, as if uncomfortable with his question.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he said quickly.

“No, I don’t mind. It’s just that the truth is going to seem a bit strange to you.”

He raised a brow. “All right, now I’m suitably intrigued.”

Just as he’d hoped, she relaxed slightly at his teasing tone. “I told you that most of the townsfolk had a hand in raising me,” she began. “I meant that literally. I moved from family to family on a regular basis.”

“How so?”

“Every six months there’d be a big ceremony in town where most of the family names were put into a hat and then the preacher would draw one out. Whatever name was pulled, that’s the family I’d live with for the next six months. Then, at the end of that time, we’d do it all over again.”

He’d never heard of such an unusual arrangement. What had that been like? “Was it hard to live that way?”

She shrugged. “There was as much good as bad in it. One of the best things about it was, if I wasn’t happy with where I was, I knew I wouldn’t be there for very long.”

That seemed a strange, and somewhat callous answer. Was this eagerness for new places an innate part of who she was? Or had the way she’d been brought up made her that way?

Either way, he’d do well to remember that she
was
moving on.

A flash of black-and-red caught his attention and he pointed the red-winged blackbird out to her. They watched it for a while, eating in companionable silence, until she turned to him again.

“Do you mind if I ask
you
a personal question?” she asked.

He smiled. His life was pretty much an open book. “Since I just got through prying into yours, I don’t suppose it would be sporting of me to refuse.”

“When you were talking about your brother and sister and their families, I could tell family was important to you. Did you never think about starting one of your own?”

He stilled, feeling sucker-punched by her question. It must have shown on his face because her cheeks reddened and she started backtracking, just as he had earlier.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked—”

“No, don’t apologize. I was just surprised, is all. Yes, I’ve thought about it. I’ve just never managed to fall for a woman who loved me back.”

“Oh.” She started to say something else, then clamped her lips shut.

He found himself curious to know just what it was she’d started to say. “Out with it. I’m feeling expansive today so this is your one and only chance to ask your questions.”

“It’s just, the way you worded that answer, it made me wonder just how many women you’ve fallen for.”

Did it now? Well, he’d opened himself up for this. “Exactly two.” He started to leave it at that, but found himself expanding, almost as if compelled to do so. “I mentioned Belle to you before, the woman who left her daughter in my brother’s keeping when she passed. Well, when I was younger I fancied myself in love with her. I was only sixteen at the time, and she was a couple of years older, but I made all sorts of elaborate plans about our future together. Unfortunately, I never told Belle about my feelings or my plans. She up and married a traveling preacher man.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She clasped her hands together. “That must have been painful for you.”

He shrugged, trying to downplay just how deeply it had cut. “I pined for a while like some lovesick schoolboy, but I got over it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Then I noticed Martha Davis. She was the daughter of one of the ranchers in the area and I’d known her most of my life. But the year I turned twenty, something about her caught my eye in a different way and I started courting her. I thought we were well suited—she knew all about living on a ranch and was sweet and agreeable. Then that
summer she went to visit a cousin in St. Louis and decided she liked city life better than ranching. She met someone there, got married and never came back.”

Griff sat back, wondering why he’d just told her all of this. She certainly hadn’t asked for any details. And he’d never in all these years spoken of it to anyone.

Ruby placed a hand on his arm. “All that means is that neither of these girls was the right one for you. I’m sorry if your heart got broken, but better to find that out before you are irrevocably tied together. You just have to trust that the right person is out there, waiting for you to find her.”

As if just realizing what she’d done, Ruby made as if to remove her hand, but he captured it and held it firmly in place, locking his gaze on her suddenly wide-eyed one. Had Belle and Martha broken his heart? Or just his pride? Whatever the case, telling her about his past had left him feeling lighter, freer.

He released her hand and smiled. “Enough of this gloomy talk. If you’re done eating, there’s one more thing I want to show you before we head back to the house.”

And he’d figure out just what that was before they climbed in the buckboard. Truth to tell, he just didn’t want to let this little outing end yet.

Ruby got to her knees and busied herself repacking the hamper. She hoped Griff didn’t notice that her hands were a bit shaky. She could still feel the warmth and strength of his touch, the depth and intensity of his gaze.

Had something just passed between them? Or was it only her imagination? Wishful thinking perhaps?

That thought stopped her cold. What exactly was she wishing for? She’d told herself not to get too close to these people, that they were thinking of her in terms of someone who’d done them a service, and perhaps as a likable person, but nothing more.

Heavenly Father, please help me remember that he is a good man who is trying to be nice. Don’t let me act the fool by thinking it’s anything more.

F
ifteen minutes later they were still riding across the fields. They hadn’t spoken much, and the quiet seemed awkward, as if neither was sure what to say next. She was on the brink of saying something, even if it was a comment about the weather, just to break the silence, when he pulled back on the reins to stop the wagon.

Was he ready to show her another landmark?

Before she could comment, though, he raised a hand. “Did you hear that?”

There were worry lines on his brow and she wondered just what he’d heard. Straining her ears, she caught the sound of some sort of animal in distress. “What is that?”

He frowned. “It sounds like a cow bawling. Do you mind if we go check it out?”

“No, of course not.”

He set the horse back in motion, turning it in the direction the sound had come from. “It’s a good thing
this ground is rocky here,” he said, “or I’d have to walk.”

She didn’t say anything, just stared straight ahead, trying to get some glimpse of the animal making that distressing cry.

Of course Griff spotted the cow first. “There she is.”

Ruby stared at the animal who was pacing back and forth near a tree line up ahead. “She doesn’t look like she’s hurt.”

“No, but she’s agitated and from the looks of her, her calf has missed its feeding.”

Concerned, Ruby scanned the area, looking for some signs of a calf.
Please don’t let the poor thing be hurt.

When they drew closer Ruby realized the cow was on the other side of a gully from them. Griff stopped the wagon and set the brake. “The ground may be rocky, but it’s still pretty messy out here. You stay put while I find out what’s going on.” Without waiting for her response, he jumped down and marched toward the gully’s edge.

He returned quickly, his jaw set. “Her calf is down there all right. Fortunately it doesn’t look hurt, but the sides are too steep and slippery for it to get itself out.”

“Oh, poor thing. What do we do?”

He gave her a surprised look as he removed his jacket. “I’m going to have to drag the critter out of there. Luckily there’s a rope in the back of the buckboard.”

She watched as he moved around to the back and
retrieved the rope. He tied one end to the frame of the buckboard, tested it for snugness, then tossed the rest back in the wagon bed. He came around to the front and looked up at her. “I need to back the buckboard up closer to the edge of the gully. If you’ll handle the reins I’ll stand at the horse’s head. When I give the signal, release the brake, then set it again when I tell you to.”

Ten minutes later they had the buckboard positioned to his satisfaction and he’d thrown the free end of the rope down the side of the gully.

“So what now?” she asked.

“Now I go down and tie this rope around the calf and we pull him out of there.”

“Is that safe? I mean with your foot—”

He dismissed her concerns. “Other than getting good and muddy, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure there’s not anything I can do to help?” She felt useless just sitting here.

He studied her for a moment. “If you really want to help,” he said slowly, “there is one thing you can do.”

Ruby sat up straighter. “Just name it.”

“After I get the rope on that calf I’ll have to climb back up and direct the horse so he moves forward nice and easy. It would help if you kept an eye on the calf while I’m at the horse’s head.”

That didn’t seem like much of an assignment, but at least he was letting her help. “Sounds easy enough.”

He gave her an approving smile. “Good. Now just stay put until I climb back out.”

She smiled but didn’t say anything. As soon as his head disappeared over the edge, she scrambled down and moved to where she could watch him at work. He was using the rope to help in his descent and was nearly at the bottom.

As if he felt her presence, Griff looked up as soon as his feet touched bottom. Shaking his head at her as if she were a wayward child, he turned and moved toward the calf.

Ruby grinned, not at all put off by his reaction. Especially since she’d caught that hint of a smile before he’d turned away.

Watching him work, she was impressed with the confidence and quickness with which he accomplished his task. The man was clearly in his element. In almost no time at all he had the rope secured around the calf.

After a final testing of the knots, Griff quickly started back up. When he reached the top, she offered him a hand but he shook his head. “Don’t want to get you muddy. I’m fine.”

She stepped back and in moments he was standing back on level ground. He was breathing a bit heavier than normal and was definitely wearing some mud, but he didn’t seem at all bothered by either condition. “Okay, I’m going to move to the horse’s head. If you’ll release the brake as soon as I’m set and then keep an eye on the calf I think we’ll have this all taken care of in just a few minutes.”

“Is there something I should be on the lookout for?” she asked a few moments later as she released the brake.

“The side of the gully is relatively smooth and slick so there really shouldn’t be a lot of problems. Just let me know if it appears that the rope is slipping or if the calf seems to be in any sort of trouble.”

She nodded and stepped back to the edge. The operation was surprisingly uneventful. Griff kept the horse moving at a steady pace and the calf eased up the gully’s side with lots of bawling but little trouble. As soon as it was up and over the lip of the gully she signaled Griff, who halted the horse.

She moved closer. The calf hadn’t gotten to his feet yet. Was he okay? She tentatively extended her hand. At the same time the calf lunged to his feet. Startled, Ruby took a quick step back and slipped, landing on her backside.

Griff was by her side in an instant. “Are you okay?”

She smiled. “Other than wounded dignity, I’m just fine.” Seeing the look on his face, as if he’d expected her to fall to pieces over a bit of mud, she laughed outright and extended her hand. “I’m fine, really. Help me up, please?”

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Still slightly off balance, she stumbled forward and he caught her in his arms. He didn’t step back immediately and, seeing the look in his eyes, her amusement faded, replaced by something warmer, sweeter. Oh, mercy, but having him hold her like this was so won
derful, so right, so safe. She felt as if she could face just about anything the world had to throw at her if she had
this
to fall back on when it did.

Right now she didn’t give a fig whether he felt gratitude or duty or something sweeter. If he tried to kiss her, she’d let him. In fact, she’d welcome him.

Griff released her and stepped back. What was he doing? Ruby had made it abundantly clear she was eager to move to Tyler and start her new life. She was a town girl and wanted a taste of what the big city had to offer. Why did he always find himself attracted to women who had no interest in settling down on a ranch?

He turned to busy himself with untying the rope to hide his agitation. “We’d best get this fellow back to its mama so it can get some lunch.”

He watched her from the corner of his eye, noting the way she stared at him with confusion and something curiously like hurt. To his relief she pulled her shoulders back and focused on his comment. “But the mother cow is on the other side of the gully. How do we get her calf to her?”

Glad to be on safe conversational ground, he pointed off to his left. “If you follow the gully for about a quarter mile that way, it narrows considerably. My pa built a bridge to span it there years ago. That’s how the cow got to the other side in the first place.”

She nodded. “So we just lead the calf to the bridge?”

“Something like that.” He moved to the calf, lifted
it and deposited it in the bed of the buckboard. “If you don’t mind driving the wagon, I’ll ride back here and keep this little guy from jumping out.” It would also give him time to get himself back under control.

Because at the moment he wasn’t sure if his reaction back there had been the right thing to do.

Or the biggest mistake he’d ever made.