Cheryl St.John - Sequins and Spurs

“She was devoted to your mother.”

Of course. Pearl had always done everything it took to please their mother. She hadn’t torn her stockings or misplaced her school books. She’d been a good student and had dutifully helped pull weeds, cook and put up vegetables and preserves. Ruby could still see them together in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a cake.

Her sister must have been a comfort to their mother. “How long was Mama sick?”

“Several years. There were times when it seemed she got stronger, but then she’d get weak again.”

Ruby had missed it all. The good days and the bad ones.

She’d been gone from home only a year when she’d realized her blunder. She had the freedom and independence she’d always craved, but there were no glamorous jobs for girls like her. She’d always been overly optimistic and impetuous, and more times than she cared to admit, those traits had landed her in tight situations. Leaving home with overblown dreams had been the most monumental of her rash mistakes, but she couldn’t run back to the place she’d escaped. There had been nothing here for her.

She’d been convinced she wasn’t cut out for a mundane life of cooking and cleaning and going to church. School had been torture enough—all those tedious days trapped inside and chained to someone else’s schedule. The world was too big and exciting, and life too full of possibilities to miss out on by following all the rules.

Besides, Ruby Dearing was not a quitter.

So she’d taken unglamorous jobs in saloons and gaming halls, avoiding crude advances and barely getting by, until eventually she’d joined a theater troupe and traveled. Sometimes the pay was good, other times just adequate. But she’d persisted.

If, at some point along that path, she could have swallowed her pride sooner and come for a visit... But there it was. She had held on to her dream until it was nothing more than a dirty rag. And now it was too late. She had always fallen short.

“Your mother loved you very much,” Georgia said.

Ruby had never doubted her mother’s love. Laura Dearing just hadn’t known what to do with her. “I was a disappointment. Even when I was here I wasn’t a pleasing child. I missed my father too much. I didn’t fit in with Mama’s routine or her plans. Not like Pearl.”

“Nobody’s perfect, Ruby. And everyone is different.”

She could wallow in self-recrimination or she could do something to make up for lost time. “Is it too late to plant a garden?”

“Probably not. Ours just went in a week or so ago.”

Everything she’d once thought tedious and unbearable now seemed like a lifeline to the stable life she had thrown away. “I’m going to get the house clean. And then I’ll plant a garden. I need to learn how to cook and put up things for winter.”

She didn’t miss the sympathetic look Georgia cast her way, but the woman replied, “I’ll help any way I can.”

“It appears you do enough already, what with the children in your care.”

“I have help at the house. If you need me, all you have to do is ask. Don’t be shy.”

“Shy isn’t one of my traits,” Ruby said with a smile.

Half an hour later, she trailed behind as Nash and his mother led the children to the buggy. When they reached the conveyance, Claire hugged him around the knees. Gently, he loosened her hold and hunkered down to look into her eyes.

Georgia deliberately stood a distance away to give them privacy, as did Ruby, but their words were still audible.

“I miss you so much, Papa.”

“I miss you, too, Claire.”

“I love Grandma and Grandpa.”

“I know you do. But it’s still hard to be away from home for so long?”

Claire nodded.

Nash wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “It’s hard for me, too. Thank you for being brave and helping with Joel.”

Claire nodded, and they hugged. Nash stood, picked up his little boy and kissed his forehead. “Thank you for being a good boy for your grandmother, Joel.”

Joel hugged his neck, and Nash peeled him away to lift both children up to the buggy and then assist his mother. He bent forward for Georgia to kiss his cheek, and she waved a friendly goodbye to Ruby.

Georgia led the buggy away. Nash straightened his shoulders in a deliberate motion, as though fortifying himself and keeping a lock on his emotions.

Ruby stood a few feet away from him on the grass in front of the house. “They’re beautiful.”

He turned slowly, his dark gaze ruthlessly taking in her features, her rumpled shirtwaist, her hair. He had a couple days’ worth of growth on his chin and upper lip, but his black hair barely touched the collar of his laced shirt. His eyes were so brown they were nearly black, his brows two angry slashes above. “I have work to do.”

“I have questions I’d like to ask.”

“Can they wait?”

His dismissal was even more abrupt than previously. The visit with Claire and Joel had clearly set him on edge. Ruby nodded and glanced toward the stables. “Who cooks for the hands?”

“We cook outdoors. In the bunkhouse if the weather’s poor.”

“I wouldn’t mind cooking for all of you. Might make things easier if you didn’t have to do it yourselves.”

His expression was unreadable. “You can get our supper then. Most days there are three of us.”

She might have said something else, but he’d already turned away and headed for the stables. After taking the glasses inside, she finished hanging her clothes on the line. The sheets were dry by then, so she made up the beds. She tried to put herself in Nash’s place and imagine how difficult the past few years had been. When she looked at herself the way he’d seen her, she couldn’t blame him for holding her absence against her.

Resigned to leaving her old room to Claire, Ruby opened the windows in her mother’s room, mopped the plank wood floors and shook the rag rugs. An upholstered chair with long fringe covering the legs sat between the two corner windows. Beside it a basket held skeins of yarn and knitting needles. Underneath them she found squares of fabric.

Ruby picked up the unfinished piece on top and looked at the white rectangle looped on the needles. She didn’t remember her mother knitting, but back then Laura had been busy with feeding and clothing two children and caring for a house. Perhaps this had filled her time after she’d become sick.

Next, Ruby cleaned and polished the furniture, which consisted of an old armoire with calico curtains on the doors and two small drawers at the bottom, a wood chest at the foot of the bed, a dressing table and chair, and the bureau.

Before placing the ivory comb back on top, she ran her thumbnail across the teeth once more. She could never get the tiny teeth through her curly tresses, but she liked looking at the comb her mother had used for many years.

Ruby got a fresh pail of water and tackled the coal stove in the other corner. Her mother had always set a vase of wildflowers atop it in the summer. Maybe Ruby would look for some spring flowers later.

In the bottom of the armoire she found the quilt that had always been on Laura’s bed, shook it out the window and spread it over the mattress. Grandma McWhirter had made it for Mama as a wedding gift. Daddy hadn’t stuck around any longer than it took to sire two daughters, but the quilt had been here for as long as Ruby could remember.

A resounding slam echoed up the stairway.

“Ruby!”

She straightened and hurried out into the hallway.

Nash stood at the bottom of the stairs, glaring up. “What in blazes are you thinking, woman?”

“About what?”

“About flapping your drawers for all the world to see!”

She came down two steps. “What are you talking about?”