Pearl (11 page)

‘‘I . . . ah.’’ Belle took two steps back.

‘‘And since this is all your own fault, I will come up with something that you owe me for all the extra laundry, you hear?’’

Ruby’s hands itched to applaud. She turned her focus back to Cat, who was now cleaning up the new baby. The first two looked to be gray like their mother, but the third one was possibly orange and white.

Ruby stared at the kittens. ‘‘Their eyes are shut.’’

‘‘They don’t open for ten days to two weeks, but don’t you worry none. See, they already know how to nurse.’’

Ruby watched as one tiny paw rubbed against the swollen side of the nipple the kitten had latched on to. ‘‘They are so tiny.’’

‘‘Soon they’ll be tumbling around, playing. There’s nothing more fun than to play with them then. We need to fix her a box behind the stove. Cats like a dark place where they can feel safe. Otherwise she’ll move her kittens to somewhere else.’’

Listen to her chatter. Daisy, the silent one. Come to think of it, both
she and Milly talk more now than they ever did
.

‘‘Ruby!’’ The call came from the kitchen below. Opal and Milly had returned.

Ruby stood and, with a pat on Daisy’s shoulder, headed for the door. ‘‘Is it all right if I let the girls come up to see the kittens?’’ ‘‘Why not.’’ Belle rubbed her forehead and leaned over to check something about her eye in the mirror. ‘‘You’d turn my room into a nursery if I let you.’’

Ruby left her muttering and made her way down the back stairs. She’d not even noticed that the train pulled out. Somehow seeing Belle caught in a quandary for a change was highly refreshing; in fact, she couldn’t quit smiling. And like Daisy said, it was Belle’s own fault.

‘‘Ruby, we’re going to have—What? What’s happened?’’

Ruby kept her finger to her lips, quieting her boisterous sister. ‘‘Cat is having her kittens.’’

‘‘Where?’’

‘‘In Belle’s dresser where her drawers are kept.’’

Opal’s mouth dropped open, and she clapped both hands over her face to stifle an outburst of giggles. Milly did the same. The two girls looked at each other and giggled harder.

‘‘Shush. You want Belle to hear you?’’ Ruby kept her voice to a whisper with difficulty. The urge to join the revelry made her suck in a deep breath and roll her lips together. She straightened her shoulders, anything to keep from busting a gusset.

‘‘You go on up. But be quiet so you don’t disturb Cat.’’ Let alone Belle, who somehow failed to see the humor in all this.
Lord, forgive me for laughing at someone else’s expense, but . . .
She choked back another spurt of laughter and returned to the kitchen. As usual, the tray was now empty but for the cream and sugar, stirring spoons, and the money box Charlie had carved out of a pine burl. While it looked more like a round bowl with a lid, they all called it the money box.

Just as Ruby lifted the lid and removed the money, she heard the bell over the front door announce visitors. She dropped the coins into her apron pocket and headed on through the swinging door into the dining room.

Four obviously wealthy men waited for her at the counter, which had formerly been the bar of the saloon. Charlie had removed the stools and the shelves that held liquor bottles on the wall behind it, leaving the gilt-framed mirror. She and the girls had spent hours polishing the red-oak bar to its present sheen, buffing out nicks and scuffs. Turning the dining room respectable had been a fierce undertaking, but against all odds Ruby and her crew had accomplished the transformation.

‘‘Welcome to Dove House. How may I help you?’’

‘‘Four rooms,
s’il vous plait
.’’ The shortest of the four stepped forward and raised four fingers.

‘‘Will that be for one night or. . . ?’’

He turned to the man studying the room and asked,
‘‘Combien
de nuits?’’

‘‘Je ne sais pas,’’
the man answered.
‘‘Deux ou trois. Ce n’est pas
important.’’

Ruby debated.
Should I tell them I speak French?

She wrote out the cost while the two conversed back and forth. While her bestemor had always said eavesdroppers heard no good about themselves, this eavesdropper was feeling steam arise and hopefully exit by her ears before it blew the top of her head off.

She glanced up to see the man called Enrique watching her.

‘‘The marquis says you have a lovely place here, and he is looking forward to our stay.’’

Of course she knew that was not was he said. She couldn’t resist.
‘‘Peut-e
ê
tre vous preé
feé
reriez une ferme avec les vaches, monsieur?’’
(‘‘Perhaps you would prefer a farm with cows, sir?’’)

The marquis laughed, gave her a gallant bow, and said,
‘‘Enchante
é
de faire votre connaissance, mademoiselle.’’
A smile tilted the ends of his handlebar mustache. His dark eyes danced. ‘‘You and your country are filled with surprises.’’

‘‘Merci.’’
Ruby smiled back.

‘‘I do prefer your hotel. And you serve dinner here?’’ The marquis nodded to the dining area.

‘‘Yes, at twelve, and supper is at six.’’

‘‘Ah yes, supper, and so early.’’

‘‘Here on the frontier many retire at dark.’’ Even though the smile that lifted the corners of his waxed mustache seemed a bit condescending, Ruby let it go by. New York people were often like that, let alone the French. She could see him playing the villain in a melodrama very easily, twirling his mustache and laughing sardonically at the heroine’s distress.

‘‘If you will sign here, I have four rooms available, as you requested.’’

‘‘I will wait here until Enrique has the rooms made up.’’

‘‘Pardon me, sir, but the rooms are made up. We wash the sheets after every guest, and you will find neither bugs nor dirt in your rooms.’’ She knew her words sounded clipped and formal, but had he set out to offend her, he could not have done so more. ‘‘Right this way.’’

But only the older man, with a trunk on either shoulder, followed her up the stairs.

‘‘Do you have more baggage to bring up?’’
Other than the offensive
man downstairs?

He rattled something back to her in French but so fast she could barely follow.

‘‘I see.’’
I don’t care how fine a man your marquis is, and I don’t
care if he is used to staying at the Biltmore, he . . .
Ruby caught herself before she spoke her thoughts.
Don’t be a ninny. He didn’t single you
out for disrespect. He’s like that all the time
.

‘‘I can use your kitchen to prepare monsieur’s coffee?’’

‘‘I will have coffee sent in to them as soon as I go down.’’

‘‘
Non, non
. He very particular about his coffee.’’

Ruby kept her hands unclamped and off her hips. ‘‘By all means.’’

‘‘And the . . . ah . . . facilities?’’

‘‘Out back or a chamber pot.’’ Ruby left the room before she said any more. Shame she hadn’t tripled the price for the rooms, instead of just doubling it.

‘‘Take coffee in to the gentlemen, will you please, Cimarron?’’ Ruby set a plate on the tray and arranged molasses cookies on it.

‘‘Of course. You want I should make fresh?’’

‘‘No, I think not. Simple is what we serve, and simple is what they’ll get. If they don’t like it, they can go down the street to Mrs. McGeeney’s. Her greasy stew ought to sit real well.’’

She glanced up to see Cimarron watching her carefully.

‘‘Are you all right?’’ Cimarron asked.

‘‘Of course I’m all right. Why?’’

‘‘You’re muttering to yourself. I see our guests are of the wealthy kind. I could bake a pie for supper. Everyone likes that.’’

Ruby leaned her backside against the table. ‘‘Enrique is the servant. Marquis de Mores . . . or rather Antoine Amedee Marie Vincent . . .’’ She closed her eyes trying to remember. ‘‘Oh yes, it’s Antoine Amedee Marie Vincent Amat Manca de Vallombrosa, but he said we can call him Marquis de Mores.’’ She caught herself rolling her eyes.
Ruby Torvald, what on earth is the
matter with you? Instead of being grateful for four rooms taken, at a
premium no less and who knows for how long, you are acting like a spoiled
child. You have dealt with the wealthy before. Remember Mrs. Adames,
emphasis on the last syllable. She was so impossible, she made even Mrs.
Brandon groan
. She stopped her musings to see Cimarron staring at her, one eyebrow arched.

Ruby picked up the tray. ‘‘You’re right. I’ll take this out and behave myself.’’

‘‘I didn’t say a word.’’

‘‘You didn’t need to. You have an extremely expressive eyebrow.’’ She turned and pushed the swinging door open with her backside, something niggling at the back of her mind. Where had she heard of the Marquis before? Had she seen his picture in the paper back in New York?

‘‘Here you are, gentlemen.’’ She set the tray on the table next to them, poured the coffee, and set a cup on a saucer in front of each. ‘‘Cream? Sugar?’’ Lastly she placed the plate of cookies in the exact center of the table. ‘‘Can I get you anything else?’’ She waited, but when they nodded their dismissal, she did exactly that. Left.

Cimarron was rolling out pie crust when she reentered the kitchen. ‘‘What’s going on upstairs?’’ she asked.

‘‘Why?’’

‘‘All the giggling and shushing.’’

‘‘Oh, I thought you meant—Oh, my goodness. Daisy, Milly, and Opal are in Belle’s room admiring the kittens.’’

‘‘Cat had her kittens?’’ Cimarron gave the dough another lick with her rolling pin. ‘‘How many?’’

‘‘Three so far.’’ Ruby headed for the stairway. ‘‘I’ll go see if we have more.’’

She met Opal coming down.

‘‘Ruby, Cat has four kittens. I saw one get born.’’ The awe in her voice earned a hug from her sister.

‘‘How’s Belle?’’

Opal turned and continued back up the stairs with Ruby.

‘‘She huffs about the mess, but she pulled up a chair and has been watching along with the rest of us.’’

‘‘And Cat doesn’t mind?’’

‘‘Not yet. Daisy says she might later. When will Charlie be back?’’

‘‘Tomorrow, since he wasn’t on today’s train.’’
I wonder what’s
keeping him?
Charlie always returned the next day. ‘‘I’ll have him build a box for the kittens.’’

‘‘Good.’’ Together they entered the now cat nursery.

‘‘If those stains ever come out, I’ll be shocked.’’ Belle, cigarillo in hand and smoke graying the room, muttered before taking another puff.

‘‘Keep the door closed. We have guests, very wealthy guests, from France, no less.’’ Ruby knelt next to Daisy. ‘‘You think that’s all?’’

‘‘Most likely.’’

‘‘You going to name them?’’ Milly, sitting cross-legged next to Daisy, asked.

‘‘Maybe we can each name one.’’ Opal stroked Cat with a gentle finger. ‘‘Your babies are beautiful, just like you.’’ She turned to Ruby. ‘‘You suppose she’s hungry? I could go get her some milk.’’

‘‘No, leave her be. She’ll come down when she’s ready.’’ Daisy got to her feet. ‘‘S’pose I better get back to the ironing, and I know we better be getting supper ready. Belle, guess that leaves you in charge of the cat watch.’’

Belle shook her head. ‘‘I got to take my nap so I can be bright and in a winning streak for tonight.’’ She looked up at Ruby. ‘‘Did you triple the room rate like I told you to do when rich travelers arrive?’’

Now it was Ruby’s turn to shake her head. ‘‘No, but I did double it, plus a little extra.’’

‘‘When are you going to learn?’’ Belle paused for a smoke. ‘‘But that’s better’n nothing. They’ll leave more on the table tonight.’’

Ruby returned to the kitchen to find Enrique and Cimarron nose to nose.

‘‘This is my kitchen, and if I allow you to use it, you will stay out of the way when we are busy. Your marquis can—’’ Ruby took a step forward.

‘‘Oh, but mademoiselle, I will teach you . . .’’ He paused at the narrowing of her eyes. ‘‘You will teach me to share with you, and we will both be the richer.’’

Cimarron’s shoulders relaxed a trifle.

‘‘Anyone with glorious hair like yours . . .’’ He kissed the tips of his fingers and threw it into the air.

Ruby never thought to see Cimarron simper, but she came close.

When Charlie came home from Dickinson the next day, Opal met him at the door with the news, told so fast all her words ran together into one very long one. ‘‘And so, will you build a box to put behind the stove with a lid on it for Cat so she won’t go hide her kittens somewhere else?’’

‘‘Sure. How many did she have?’’

‘‘Four.’’

‘‘Four. That’s a good number.’’ When the girl tore back upstairs, he greeted Ruby. ‘‘Sorry I’m late.’’

She waited for him to give an explanation, but when he didn’t, she just nodded. The man had a right to his privacy, the same as anyone else.

‘‘I see Opal is dancing on the ceiling.’’

‘‘With permanent stars in her eyes. She wondered if maybe we would each like one.’’

‘‘Five cats
is
a few too many.’’

‘‘I know. We have guests, the Marquis de Mores and his entourage.’’

‘‘I take it you aren’t too pleased about something.’’