Linda Ford (17 page)

F
or the next two days Ruby helped Inez get the house ready for Thanksgiving, while Griff declared himself well enough to resume his regular routine. The three of them still got together at mealtimes and Ruby enjoyed listening to Griff talk about his day. What she enjoyed even more were his and Inez’s efforts to include her. She wasn’t used to people asking for her opinion or listening so intently to what she had to say.

During the midday meal on Friday, a telegraph arrived informing them that both Ry’s and Sadie’s families had accepted the invitation to return to Hawk’s Creek for Thanksgiving. From Griff and Inez’s response to the news, Ruby realized neither had been as certain as they pretended they were that Griff’s siblings would come. She caught Inez actually humming that afternoon as they were polishing the woodwork in the front hall.

The evenings were becoming Ruby’s favorite time of the day. After the supper chores were taken care
of, she would take Patience and curl up in the study with one of the books Griff had selected for her and get happily lost in the world of the story. After about an hour or so, Griff would join her and challenge her to a game of checkers.

And while the competition between them was fun, what she really enjoyed were their discussions. He would ask her questions about the book she’d been reading, giving his own opinions on the passages he remembered. They didn’t always agree on the finer points, but the debates they had were invigorating rather than confrontational.

On Saturday evening she noticed that even Patience had softened toward Griff. The cat drifted over while they were playing checkers, but rather than approach her, she began stropping herself against one of Griff’s legs, purring softly. Even more surprising, Griff absently reached down and stroked the animal as he pondered his next move. Ruby hid a smile, wondering if her opponent was even aware of what he was doing. Apparently he wasn’t as averse to cats as he’d claimed.

Strange to think that she’d only known Griff Lassiter for a week and a day. So much about her life had changed in that short time. Even her ideas about what life could be, and of her place in it, had shifted slightly.

There were no more encounters like the ones they’d shared during their outing on Thursday. She was beginning to believe any emotion on his part other than solicitousness had come purely from her imagination.

And she told herself she could be content with his friendship. After all, she’d had very few friends in her life.

On Sunday Ruby attended church service with Griff and Inez. It was sweet and somehow affirming to have Griff introduce her to his friends and neighbors as a family friend.

She met Reverend Martin and his wife, Olivia. The elderly couple seemed very nice and it hit Ruby as she spoke to them that if things had gone differently last week she would have spent that first night away from Cleebit Springs with them instead of at Hawk’s Creek. Had that happened, she would have never met Inez, might never have seen Griff again.

Thank You, Father, for setting me on that frightening but oh-so-rewarding path. My life has been made so much richer because of it.

Later, after lunch, Ruby watched as Griff pushed away from the table and carried his dishes to the sink.

“The weather’s been cooperating lately and the ground has dried out considerably,” he said, meeting her gaze. “What do you say I give you the second half of that tour?”

Ruby felt her spirits lift. “Oh, that would be lovely.” Then she turned to Inez. “After I help with the dishes, of course.”

But Inez waved her offer aside. “You two go on and leave this to me.” She shook a finger at them. “But I expect you to take care of the supper dishes without me tonight.”

Before Ruby could say anything, Griff grinned.
“It’s a deal.” Then he turned to her. “How do you feel about riding horseback?”

She smiled. “I enjoy it, but I haven’t ridden in a while.” Her father had taught her to ride when she was quite young, but opportunities to ride had been hit or miss since—depending on what family she’d lived with.

“I’ll have Mabel saddled up for you, then. She’s gentle but not a plodder.”

An hour and a half later they had ridden through a wooded area to visit a spot where he and his brother had built a fort out of old lumber, they’d skirted the edge of a pond that had a picturesque stair-step waterfall feeding it and had collected a couple dozen ripe persimmons to bring back to Inez.

Ruby was learning to love Hawk’s Creek more and more with each new discovery. Seeing it through Griff’s eyes made it doubly precious. She could see clearly now what a part of him this place was. Take him away from here for any great length of time and his spirit, the part of him that made him uniquely Griff, would shrivel like an uprooted plant.

Griff watched the appreciation and delight shine in Ruby’s face as she discovered the parts that made up the whole of Hawk’s Creek. And it wasn’t just the places he showed her. She took pleasure in pointing things out to him as well—like the pair of deer she spotted bounding across a corner of an open field before disappearing into a stand of trees, a large rock
formation that she decided looked just like a snail and a hawk circling high above them.

It was so easy to see her in this world.

Only this wasn’t the world she seemed to want. But why not? If her life to this point had been so filled with sunshine and butterflies, why did she feel the need to move to a big city where she could lose herself in the anonymity of crowds?

It suddenly seemed important to him to find out.

He led them to a nearby spot that he knew would be perfect for having such a discussion. It was near the tree line so was somewhat sheltered, but open enough that it would be filled with warming sunshine this time of day. There were several large rocks strewn about so there would be dry places to sit. And a stream ran through it, so the sound of gurgling water would provide a serene backdrop. She’d love it.

Sure enough, as soon as the clearing came into sight she gave a little coo of delight. “Oh, Griff, this is lovely.”

“Why don’t we get down and let the horses drink and graze for a while.”

“I’d like that.”

They strolled around for a bit, drank water from the stream from cupped hands and talked about the upcoming Thanksgiving feast. Almost by mutual consent they sat on a large rock, and faced the stream.

“It’s like a sofa, hand-carved by God for our comfort,” she mused, “and set in the middle of the most beautiful sitting room in the world.”

Griff leaned back, bracing his weight on his palms.
“You have the most fanciful way of looking at the world,” he said with a smile.

She shrugged. “It’s just as easy to look for the good as the bad in things. And much more productive. My dad taught me that.”

That gave him an opening and he took it. “You told me your dad passed away when you were seven. What happened to him?”

She stiffened and her expression went blank. “I’d rather not talk about that.”

Whatever had happened, it must have been traumatic. “Had he been ill?”

She shook her head and dug around on the ground for some pebbles, which she began pitching one at a time into the stream.

He should drop this and respect her privacy. But something about her closed-off expression, about the set of her jaw and the tremble of her hands whispered to him that perhaps she needed to talk about this, whatever
this
was.

“So I take it your father’s demise is the only wrinkle in your otherwise perfect life.”

Her head whipped around and she stared at him with something akin to fury in her eyes. “My
perfect
life. Is that what you think? You have no idea—” Her lips snapped shut.

“Because you haven’t told me anything but the good. Yes, you were orphaned at seven and that is a terrible thing for a young child. But it happens to many children. And you had a whole town full of people ready to step in and take care of you. You
grew up knowing that you would always have someone looking out for you.”

“Those people didn’t want to take care of me, no matter how useful I tried to make myself. They did it out of guilt and obligation. That name-drawing ceremony every six months that I told you about—the family whose name was selected considered it a misfortune, not a blessing.” She took a deep breath. “I even learned recently that those who didn’t ‘win’ the drawing were obliged to pay a small amount into an account for my future. And most preferred to do that.”

Her voice had risen and her expression shouted at him to drop the subject. But he had to see this through now. “For someone who always tries to see the bright side of things, you are sure giving this a dark turn. Perhaps the townsfolk weren’t all vying for the privilege of looking after you. But even if they were making the best of what they saw as a bad situation and trying to spread the burden, they still stood by you and saw that you were taken care of. That has to show some measure of concern.”

She glared at him, her hands balled up into tight fists. “You want to know about my life? Okay, here’s my story.”

Griff settled back, satisfied. Perhaps now he’d understand what made her tick just a little better.

“I told you how my pa couldn’t seem to be happy staying in any one place for very long after my mother passed,” she began. “Well, that summer I turned seven we were traveling through the Texas backwoods and got lost. It wasn’t the first time that happened and
Pa usually made a game out of it, calling it a grand adventure. We traveled in a buckboard with several days’ worth of supplies and we’d slept in it or on the ground lots of times before. But during the second day of that grand adventure the wagon broke down and we were forced to ride double on the wagon horse while we looked for help.”

Griff didn’t like the way this story was going. Ruby might have thought the world of her father, but to his reckoning it didn’t sound as if the man had given much thought to his daughter’s welfare.

“Only we weren’t looking all that hard,” she continued. “We’d found a small lake where we could swim and fish, and were having a wonderful time camping there. Then, the third night we were there, we heard a group of men approaching our camp on horseback. Pa told me to go hide behind a nearby tree and to not come out until he told me it was safe.”

At least the man had had that much sense. Then he realized Ruby had started shaking and her expression was a mask of despair. What had happened that night? Whatever it was, reliving it seemed too much for her. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. “Ruby, I’m sorry I pressed you. You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” She swallowed. “To make a long story short, those men were from Cleebit Springs. They were hunting down a thief who’d come through town and robbed and killed a well-loved matriarch. When they stumbled on my father, they decided he was the guilty party.”

G
riff’s pulse kicked up as he realized some of the horror that was to come for her. But he held his peace, realizing that perhaps she really
did
need to get through this recounting of her personal nightmare.

“I heard all the yelling and cursing and I was scared, but I stayed hidden like my pa had told me. When I finally couldn’t stand not knowing what was happening any longer, I peeked out from behind the tree.” She swallowed hard and he could tell she was no longer with him. She was that frightened little girl deep in the East Texas backwoods again. He squeezed her hand, trying to anchor her to the here and now. To make certain she knew she wasn’t alone this time.

“My father was hanging from the very tree we’d slept under the night before. I was just in time to see the last feeble jerk of his body before he went still.”

Griff felt the shock of that revelation slam him in the gut and the gorge rise in his throat. She’d only been seven years old.

She shivered. “I don’t remember much of that night after that—just screaming and screaming until my voice wouldn’t work anymore.”

He stroked her hair, wishing he could take that pain from her, could pluck those ugly memories from her mind. But she wasn’t finished talking.

“Two days later they found the man who had actually committed the crime. They say he looked a lot like my pa, though I never saw him myself. That’s when Pastor Hannaly exhorted them all for the sin they had committed and told them it was their Christian duty to see that I was looked after the way my father would have wanted. Since no one family wanted to take responsibility, they came up with the taking-turns system.”

There were tears running down her cheeks, but he didn’t think she was aware of them. “Oh, Ruby, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Now that I know, it’s even more amazing to me what a sweet, strong, generous person you turned out to be.”

She didn’t appear to have heard him. “The thing is, no one likes living with a reminder of the sins they’ve committed. No matter how docile I was, how much in the background I tried to stay, all I saw when they looked at me was guilt and resentment.”

A sob escaped her and she tried to smile. “Sorry. I know you don’t like crying females.”

Griff put a finger to her lip. “Don’t apologize.” He pulled her to him, hugging her against his chest as he stroked her hair. “You have a right to cry. Sob to your heart’s content—no one will hear you but me.”

And cry she did—heartrending sobs that seemed to come from the very center of her being. Sobs that shook her and wouldn’t let her go.

Griff held her close, whispering soothing words, rocking her in his arms, gently rubbing her back. And berating himself roundly. How many times had he thought her shallow or selfish for wanting to leave Cleebit Springs when she had so many “friends” there? He’d even told her at one point that she was lucky to have such a large foster family. What a self-righteous fool he’d been. He could only imagine how his words must have hurt her. If there was any way at all he could make it up to her, he would.

Finally her crying tapered off, her body stilled its shaking and she went limp in his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“I’m not.”

She looked up at that. “I’ve gotten your shirt all damp and mussed.”

“It’ll dry.” He stroked her hair, loving the soft-as-a-kitten feel of it. “I think you needed that. I’m just glad I could be here to hold you while you got it out.”

She stared into his eyes with a watery smile. “I think you must be the kindest person in the whole world.”

Is that how she saw him? As a
kind
person? That was something you said about a friend. And he suddenly wanted to be so much more to her.

Griff placed a hand against her cheek, then slowly
traced the line of her jaw. “And you must be the loveliest—in every sense of that word.”

Her eyes darkened and he heard a little catch in her breathing. Slowly he lowered his head, longing to kiss her but giving her the chance to protest if he was alone in that desire.

But there was no sign of protest, no pulling back. Instead she raised her face and her eyes fluttered closed. That was all the invitation Griff needed.

He dipped his head and kissed her.

He’d promised himself to keep it brief, chaste, that he would only be offering her comfort and affirmation. But when her hand snaked around his neck and she pressed closer, those good intentions went out the window. He deepened the kiss, suddenly wanting to let her know that she would never have to face those memories alone again as long as he was with her. He wanted to let her know that she was cherished and admired and…and what?

When he finally raised his head, Griff felt stunned by the force of the emotions stampeding through him. The only explanation was that he was in love with Ruby. How had this happened?
When
had this happened?

The need to protect her from further hurt, to keep her always safe, and always by his side was almost overwhelming.

Staring down at her he was pleased to note she looked equally stunned. The wonder in her eyes as she stared at him, the softness of her smile, brought out all of his protective urges. There wasn’t anything
she could have asked of him at that moment that he wouldn’t have attempted to do for her. And after the way she’d reacted to the ranch, he had reason to hope she could be happy here.

But he had to take it slow, had to woo her properly. She deserved that.

So he stood and reached down his hands to help her up. “It’s getting late. Time to head back to the house.”

She dusted off the back of her skirt and then let him help her mount, that shy softness still shimmering around her.

Griff climbed up on Chester, feeling pretty pleased with the world in general. All in all it had been quite a productive day.

As they started off, Griff set their pace to a comfortable walk and pulled his horse alongside hers. “We’ll take a more direct route back to the house than the one we took when we headed out,” he told her. “We should be there in twenty minutes or so.”

She nodded and they rode in companionable silence for a while, though he caught her watching him from time to time.

“It’s getting a mite chilly out here. What say when we get back to the house, I fix us both up a big cup of hot chocolate?”

“You’re being much too nice to me.”

“Nothing’s too good for the woman who saved my life.” He’d almost said
the woman I love.

Moving slowly was going to be a whole lot harder than he imagined.

Ruby’s smile froze as his words sunk in. Is that how he thought of her—as the woman who’d saved his life? Nothing more personal? After that kiss, she’d thought—fool!

She nudged her horse into a fast trot, wanting an excuse not to talk, not to make eye contact. A moment ago she’d felt herself the luckiest woman on earth. She’d dared to believe that Griff, a man who’d come to mean more to her than she’d ever dreamed possible, might really love her. She’d opened herself up for the first time in thirteen years, shared all her ugly, painful memories, and he’d treated that pain with a gentleness and respect that had touched her deeply.

And then that kiss—she’d never felt so safe and warm and truly
loved
in her life.

And it had all been done out of a need to repay her, and perhaps a touch of pity.

The soaring happiness she’d felt a moment ago shattered around her in a thousand needle-sharp pieces. And there was no one but herself to blame. She’d known from the outset how it was, had warned her heart not to forget it. But she
had
forgotten and it had cost her dearly. Because she’d given him her heart and it was too late to get it back.

Somehow she got through the rest of the day, finding reasons not to be alone with Griff. After supper she claimed a headache—no pretense there—and went to bed early.

Not that she got much sleep. Staring at the darkened ceiling, she came to a painful but necessary decision in the wee hours before dawn.