Pearl (20 page)
The next night she laid an envelope in front of him. ‘‘From Sigrid. She has fallen and broken her hip. I will go take care of her.’’
‘‘What about the house here?’’
‘‘You will manage.’’
The next morning he began preparations to head west, even though the advertisement was no longer in the paper. Talk about leaping off a cliff with no idea how far the water lay below. Or if there was any water.
Little Missouri
‘‘Ruby, you gotta come see!’’
‘‘Opal, I’m busy right now,’’ Ruby called over her shoulder, all the while her arms in soapsuds up to her elbows.
‘‘But they might be gone then.’’
Ruby scraped soapsuds off her arms and wiped them on her apron. ‘‘I’m coming.’’
This better be good
. She let the screen door slam behind her, something she scolded the others for doing when they forgot. Had it not been for the spring on the door, half the flies in Dakotah Territory would rush right in. Along with hordes of mosquitoes.
‘‘Where are you?’’
‘‘Over here.’’ Opal could hiss louder than most could shout. She stood at the west end of the porch that extended on around the entire building.
An ancient cottonwood shaded the northwest corner of the building, and brush nearly hid the fence between Dove House land and that of Mr. Johnson, owner of the milk cow that so ably provided for the hotel.
Ruby started in a hurry but slowed and quieted at Opal’s hand signals. What could have so entranced her little sister? Ruby crept up behind Opal and whispered, ‘‘What is it?’’
‘‘See the grouse chicks?’’
Even though Opal pointed, Ruby could see nothing but stems and leaves and grasses.
‘‘There, at the bottom of the second bush is the grouse hen. She called all her chicks to hide under her. I counted ten.’’
Ruby studied the light and shadows. Nothing as far as she could see. Then the hen moved her head, and one tiny bit of fluff darted out from under her.
‘‘Ohh. Ohh.’’ Delight birthed a sigh. Standing perfectly still was no trouble. Ruby would have stopped breathing if that was what it took to keep from scaring the hen into harming her chicks or leaving with them.
Another tiny head peeked out from under the wing and chased after the other. The hen clucked and picked a morsel from the grass around her. When she stood, the grass pulsed alive with the mottled brown-and-tan babies. One could only see them when they moved, otherwise they blended perfectly into the dappled shade.
When finally the hen led her brood into the brush and out of sight, Ruby and Opal exchanged delighted smiles.
‘‘Aren’t they perfectly wonderful? Charlie told me there was a nest out there. He’s been keeping an eye on it. They hatched yesterday.’’ Opal’s eyes shone her joy.
‘‘Thank you for calling me.’’ Ruby hugged Opal around her shoulders and tipped her head against Opal’s. ‘‘We’re going to have chicks of our own, I hear.’’
‘‘Yup, two hens are setting.’’ Opal stared across the back to the pasture where Bay dozed in the sun. ‘‘Can Milly and I go riding this afternoon?’’
Ruby swallowed her concern. ‘‘Yes, but you have to tell me exactly where you are going and come back in time to help with supper.’’
‘‘Yes, ma’am.’’ Opal leaped off the porch.
‘‘And help Milly get the laundry off the line.’’
Later that day, after the noon meal was finished and the dining room was cleaned up again, Charlie went back out to continue spading the garden, Opal and Milly went riding, and the others went about their usual chores. Daisy returned to ironing after a morning of washing, and Cimarron finished kneading the bread a second time before going down in the cellar to clean out the winter grime.
Ruby looked up from her bookkeeping and letter writing when the bell dinged over the front door. The man looked to have been on the trail for some time or mauled by a wild animal. One sleeve of his coat hung by only the underside, his hat was tattered as if chewed around the brim. A bushy beard covered his lower face and met up with head hair at about eye level.
The breeze from the open door blew an extremely ripe odor ahead of him.
‘‘Can I help you, sir?’’ Ruby rose, closing her account book at the same time, although the odds of someone with that appearance being able to read were pretty low.
‘‘Ye sure can.’’ He stared around the room, then slightly shook his head. ‘‘This be Dove House, right?’’
‘‘Yes, it is. Are you looking for a room?’’
‘‘Ye might could say that. Where’s Belle?’’
‘‘I’m not sure.’’ Ruby crossed to stand behind the counter, now polished to a permanent high sheen. When he leaned on it, dust formed a pattern around his elbow. Ruby breathed in through her mouth, his odor worse than unpleasant.
‘‘A bath will be extra.’’
‘‘I’m sure of that.’’ The man looked around. ‘‘Per off with Belle?’’
‘‘No.’’ Feeling a frisson of anxiety track up her spine, Ruby refrained from telling him who she was and what happened to her father. The man had obviously been gone for more than a year.
She pushed the guest book across the counter. ‘‘Can you sign your name, please?’’
‘‘Name’s Jed Black. I kin make my mark.’’
Ruby wrote in his name, told him a price double the normal in the hopes he would go away, and kept from sighing when he made his mark.
‘‘I’ll show you to your room.’’ She led the way upstairs, feeling his eyes on every portion of her anatomy. Her backside felt as if branded by a poker. She kept her spine straight and slit her eyes. Where were all the others when she needed them? She should have gone for Charlie. She should have turned this Jed Black away.
She pushed open the door to room eight and, after a glance inside to make sure all was right, started to step back, only to meet solid flesh. A strong arm pulled her tight against him, and his brushy face nuzzled her neck.
‘‘Let me go.’’ Her hiss would have done a snake proud.
‘‘Hot little thing, ain’tcha. tcha.’’ His other arm manacled her chest. ‘‘Ol’ Per done found a good-un in you.’’ He hauled her toward the bed, groping her all the while.
Ruby kicked at his legs and clawed his hands. ‘‘Let me go.’’ Her voice rose to a shriek.
He clamped a hand across her mouth, and she bit him so hard she could taste the metallic of blood. She knew it wasn’t hers.
‘‘You. . . .’’ His string of obscenities burned her ears.
Now she knew what was meant by seeing red. One heel connected solidly with his shin, and he grunted.
Good. That ought to
slow you down!
But nothing seemed to stop him as he ripped at her bodice, tearing her apron from the shoulder straps.
Fear tasted worse than the blood.
‘‘I allus loved a fighter.’’
Since he’d loosed her hand when ripping her clothing, Ruby scratched at his face, her fingers tangling in his beard, so she yanked even harder, fury giving her strength beyond what she knew.
He threw her on the bed and himself on top of her. ‘‘We’s gonna have us some real fun.’’
The stench of him made her gag. ‘‘Help! Somebody hel—!’’
He slammed his hand across her mouth again, and again she locked her teeth on his finger. He swore and drew back enough to strike her across the face.
Her head rang from the impact, and she felt her body go limp.
God, save me! Where are you when I need you the most?
‘‘That’s better.’’ He laughed, a deep chuckle that said he was enjoying himself.
Ruby kicked and squirmed, but he seemed oblivious to any strikes she made.
Stop fighting,
the voice seemed to echo in her head. She forced herself to relax, and he removed his hand from her mouth.
‘‘That’s good.’’
She screamed for help again, and this time, over his heavy breathing and her thundering heart, she could hear someone pounding up the stairs.
Oh, God, don’t let it be Opal
.
With a roar Charlie grabbed the man and threw him against the wall, shattering the nightstand with pitcher and bowl.
‘‘You all right?’’
‘‘Yes.’’ Tears coursed down her cheeks now that she could breathe. She sat up and screamed, ‘‘Charlie!’’
Charlie spun in time to catch a sledgehammer fist against his shoulder that sent him reeling into the doorframe.
Ruby scrambled off the other side of the bed, at the same time searching the room for something to use as a weapon. Only the kerosene lamp on the chest along the wall came to mind. While the two men circled, she edged behind the bed, removed the chimney, and quick as a snakebite slammed the base of the lamp against the back of the monster’s head. He paused, took a step, and crashed to the floor.
‘‘Did I kill him?’’
‘‘I doubt it. No such luck.’’ Charlie leaned against the doorframe, chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. ‘‘You’re bleedin’.’’
‘‘No, he is. I bit his finger. Twice.’’ She grabbed the hem of her apron to wipe any blood away, then flinched at the touch of it. Tenderly, she felt the side of her face, already swelling from the impact of his hand. She knew if she said the words she was thinking, Charlie would be so shocked he might quit breathing.
The man on the floor groaned.
Charlie reached down, grabbed him by the shoulders, and dragged him the rest of the way out the door.
‘‘I’ll help you.’’ Ruby ignored the pain in her face and grabbed hold of the man’s arm. At the top of the stairs they looked at each other.
‘‘We can’t just roll him down the stairs.’’
‘‘Why not?’’ Charlie gave a heave, and Jed Black skidded and rolled on down, coming to a limp bundle at the bottom. He lay there long enough for them to slowly make their way halfway down the stairs before he groaned and shook his head. He raised halfway up on his arms, shook his head again, and when he spied Charlie, his face broke into a smile.
‘‘Well, if it ain’t ol’ Charlie. You pack some powerful punch.
Why, it been more’n a year, maybe two, since you throwed ol’ Jed out in the street.’’
‘‘You goin’ to behave?’’
‘‘What’d I do wrong? Me and that new girl, we was just havin’ a bit a’ fun.’’
Ruby wanted to throw him out the front door herself. ‘‘Fun! You tried to kill me!’’
‘‘And she ain’t no girl.’’ Charlie stood at the ready in case Jed reared up again.
Jed stared at Ruby, obviously having trouble focusing. ‘‘She’s a purty one, all right. Real feisty too.’’ He stared down at his finger, still dripping blood.
‘‘You goin’ to behave?’’
‘‘Yep. You got a drink? Sure would help some.’’
‘‘We do not serve liquor at Dove House.’’
Jed stared at Charlie. ‘‘What’d she say?’’ He dug a finger in one ear.
‘‘No booze, no girls, no entertainment.’’
‘‘But Per—’’ ‘‘My father died just over a year ago.’’
‘‘Your father?’’ The hair parted so she could see pure shock in his deep-set eyes.
Charlie leaned forward. ‘‘Yes, and now you may take your carcass on outside and—’’
‘‘But I want a room and a bath. She said I could.’’ Black now sounded like a little boy with his toys taken away. ‘‘I need a bath.’’ He scrubbed at his face, started to rise, then sat down on the stairs. ‘‘Ohh, whatever hit me?’’ He rubbed the back of his head.