The Loves of Ruby Dee

by Curtiss Ann Matlock

  He supposed he would have to consider the horse that had ruined his leg pretty much of a failure, too, since he’d thought he had the bugger well broke. He had not done well in raising Lonnie, but then, that hadn’t been something he had really set out to do, either.

  He lay there and listened to the gal’s movements in the back of the house.

  “You’re still a man.” Her words echoed in his mind. She had meant them. The passion he had seen in her eyes had surprised him.

  He reflected on the statement. He wasn’t so certain as to the truth of it. Hell, he was eighty-five years old. What could be expected of him at this age?

  He tried to go back to thinking himself dead. Though he had not succeeded, he wasn’t ready to give up.

  * * * *

  The sun was far to the west when they got the last cows and calves separated and headed into an adjoining pasture. Lonnie leaned on his saddle horn and wiped sweat from his eyes with his sleeve that was soaked and dirty, too. He really hated to be dirty.

  He heard Will give off a curse and saw him spur his horse into action. Too late, though. Will yelled and pointed. A cow and its calf had gotten separated, and now the calf was racing along the fence. The dang thing squeezed through, and then it and the mama were loping away. There was never any understanding why the stupid critters did these things. About six cows decided to turn around then, and Lonnie had to help Wildcat get them. A handful of cows could sure wreak havoc. And there wasn’t anything more difficult than trying to herd one damn straying cow with her calf. Lonnie was for leaving her.

  “We still got ‘em...what in the hell difference does it make which side of the fence they’re eatin’ on?” he said.

  “I guess the difference between havin’ eight hundred dollars or goin’ hungry,” Will answered, real smart-like.

  Lonnie gazed at him, keeping his jaw tight.

  Will was separating the cattle because he was cutting out what was his. He hadn’t said it, but Lonnie knew that was what was going on.

  Lonnie knew that Will was counting and separating the herd because he was still planning on leaving. He was a little amazed at Will staying angry this long. Will had a pretty good temper, one as hot as the blue flame on a gas jet. But generally, Will managed to keep a cool head even when that gas jet was burning inside him. Him staying so hot-headed for this long was highly unusual.

  A dozen times that day, Lonnie had wanted to talk to Will about it, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to broach the subject. He was afraid of what Will would say. Better to let sleeping dogs lie was his opinion.

  He hoped, counted on it all blowing over. These situations generally did blow over once people calmed down. Of course there was no getting around that Will didn’t seem to be calming down. That did not bode well at all. Still, Lonnie kept hoping for the best.

  “We need rain,” Will said after they had loaded the lathered horses into the trailer.

  Lonnie looked around. He wondered what made Will say that; everything looked the same to him as it had a month ago, as it would a month from now. Still, Will was the rancher. He could smell rain or a dry spell a month away. To Lonnie, the land was just something that helped him have horses, but he didn’t need it.

  He had the sudden, vague but startling thought that Will went with the land. Neither this land nor Lonnie’s life would have been the same without Will. He didn’t understand these thoughts...didn’t want to understand them.

  All three men crammed back inside the pickup, not bothering to turn on the air conditioning, and headed home. Wildcat started telling them what was on television that night. It was his and Charlene’s favorite night for situation comedies. Wildcat couldn’t recall the year he turned forty, but he knew the names of all the actors and which years their television shows had run since the beginning of television. That fact was interesting, but his telling them all was boring as hell.

  The minute they turned into the drive, Lonnie looked anxiously for Ruby Dee’s car. He was relieved to see it still there beside the barn. He turned his gaze to the house in anticipation. He wasn’t certain which he looked forward to most: the food or seeing Ruby Dee. He just couldn’t get over there being a woman like Ruby Dee in the house. To his mind it was a phenomenon befitting deliberate enjoyment.

  They got the horses out of the trailer, rubbed down and put away. After that, Will sent Wildcat on home.

  “I sure appreciate it,” Wildcat said. “Charlene gets real put out if I’m late on Monday nights.”

  As Wildcat drove off, Lonnie rolled his sleeves up, and Will lit a cigarette.

  Lonnie said, “My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut. I could eat a five-pound steak, with potatoes.”

  “We got stock to feed first,” Will said, shaking out his match.

  “It won’t hurt none of them to wait while we get a bite to eat. We got light for another three hours.”

  But Will said, “I don’t want to have to be comin’ back out to take care of it. You get the stock in the west pasture. I’ll take care of the horses.”

  Will’s tone got under Lonnie’s skin. “Will, did it ever occur to you that I’m not some hired hand?”

  Will looked at him a second. “Suit yourself. I’ll handle it.” He strode away to the barn.

  Frustrated as all get-out, Lonnie fed the livestock, just as Will had told him to do. He thought about how, all his life, he had been doing whatever Will told him. He didn’t see how it would hurt Will any to ask him to do something.

  Lonnie never had been one to stay mad for long, however, and by the time they had finished the chores and were on their way to the house, his good humor had returned. When he stepped into the kitchen, he figured he had stepped into heaven.

  The room smelled of spicy meat, and Ruby Dee was as flushed as a ripe peach. Turning from the stove, she said, “I hope y’all like chicken fajitas.”

  Lonnie threw his hat aside and reached for her. “Ruby Dee, I could kiss you!”

  He would have, too, but he caught a warning look in her eye. A sternness that surprised and embarrassed him. But his pride wouldn’t let him release her, so he settled for dancing her around the kitchen, as if that had been his intent all along.

  Chapter 10

  “I don’t see why your daddy couldn’t sit in here, too,” Ruby Dee said. “He’s not sick; he only has a hurt ankle. I’ll go ask him to join us.”

  She strode out of the kitchen, while Will stared after her, and got an overall sinking feeling.

  “Aw, geez,” Lonnie said, casting Will a glance that said it was all Will’s fault, while he froze midway to his seat and appeared to be ready to make a run for it.

  Will considered turning and walking right back out the door. Walk out and keep on going to Texas and on to old Mexico, maybe to the beach. He knew he was thinking crazy, but it helped in that minute.

  Ruby Dee came back alone, a little red in the face. “He doesn’t want to.”

  With immense relief, Will sank into his chair. He wanted a meal in peace, and he wasn’t going to apologize for that. He felt it showed a lot about the state of his life that he was focusing on this meal as a starved man did on a chicken bone.

  “Your daddy has eaten today, and he hasn’t complained at all about his ankle,” Ruby Dee said, as she brought the rest of the dishes to the table. She lowered herself to the edge of her chair, then sat with her back straight, her hands clenching a dishcloth. “But he is brooding somethin’ awful.”

  “He’s always broodin’,” Lonnie said in a comforting tone. “That’s normal for him... wouldn’t you say, Will?”

  Will said, “Is the swelling down on his ankle? Can he use it?”

  “I’m not certain. He wouldn’t let me look at it after his bath, wouldn’t let me bind it up. He hasn’t used it that I’ve seen. Other than one trip to the bathroom—and he almost fell on those crutches—he’s just stayed in that bed. Won’t talk, doesn’t read or watch television, or anything.”

  A look of such desp
air flitted over her features that Will became concerned—for the old man, and for Ruby Dee, too. He felt he should do something, but he had no idea what.

  Then she frowned thoughtfully and said, “He’s awfully tolerant of pain, but I think we would know if he was hurting a lot. And he hasn’t been deadenin’ his pain with whiskey, because his bottle is empty.”

  “Maybe we should take him to the doctor tomorrow and get him checked out,” Will said, not wanting to do that at all.

  “I guess that would at least get him out of broodin’ and into pure-D mad,” Ruby Dee said. “Can he read?”

  The question sort of surprised Will. He was reaching for the tortillas. “Not too well,” he admitted.

  “I was beginning to think that. A lot of very unhappy people can’t read very well.” Her brown eyes met his, and then her gaze shifted away. “I couldn’t read very well for a long time. It makes a person feel stupid, and so many people think you are, but you aren’t. Reading just comes easier for some people than for others. I learned to help myself by working crossword puzzles.”

  Will said, “Dad had to drop out of school before the third grade,” and reached out to take the lid off the dish of tortillas. He chanced to look across and saw, to his profound amazement, that Lonnie had his head bowed. Ruby Dee did, too. For a couple of uncertain seconds, Will’s hand held the lid hovering over the tortillas. Then he set it back on the dish as quietly as he could and waited, his head partially bowed, watching the other two. He hadn’t asked a blessing since Sunday suppers at his aunt Roe’s.

  When Ruby Dee’s head came up, Lonnie’s followed, as if on cue. Will again reached for the tortillas, and this time he almost dropped the lid when Ruby Dee shot up out of her chair and went to the counter. He saw after a few seconds that she was making the old man’s supper tray. He thought that he should offer to take the tray in to the old man, but he didn’t.

  She took it into him, and when she came back, she didn’t tell them how he was doing. Will wasn’t about to ask, and Lonnie was too intent on Ruby Dee even to think about the old man. He was at his most charming, tossing out witty remarks and smiles like fall leaves.

  “I’ll tell you, Ruby Dee,” he said, “if you have been married, you give me the name of the fool man who let a great cook like you get away. I’m sure I could sell him a Red River bridge.” Lonnie was a master at getting information without really seeming to ask questions.

  She shook her head, an amused grin on her lips and lighting her dark eyes. “I haven’t been married.”

  Lonnie’s eyebrows went up. “No? Huh.” He winked. “You may not get away from here, with cookin’ like this.” He bit into his juicy fajita and kept his twinkling eyes on Ruby Dee.

  Most women her age had been married at least once, Will thought, wondering about her. She had said she could have any cowboy she wanted in Oklahoma City.... but she hadn’t wanted any. Maybe she was a lesbian. Then he figured he hadn’t ever been married, and he got really tired of people speculating about him. Of course, no one wondered about his sexual persuasion, since he and Georgia had carried on an affair all those years.

  Lonnie said, “How did you learn to cook like this? Can we offer your mother a great big thank you?”

  “My mama died when I was two. I just seem to have a natural talent for cooking. It is a healing talent.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Is your mama the lady in that urn?”

  Will saw Lonnie point his fork upward, and the black-and-brass vase Will had seen on Ruby Dee’s dresser came to mind. He didn’t think they could be talking about a dead person’s urn, no.

  Then Ruby Dee said, “Oh, no, that’s Miss Edna. She was my last patient. Well, really she was my dear friend. We lived together for the past four years, and she was like the mama I never had. But Miss Edna couldn’t cook at all.”

  So there was an urn filled with a dead person’s ashes on her dresser. Will was surprised, but only mildly. It was hard to be surprised by anything after forty-two years of living with the old man.

  Lonnie said, “Oh. I grew up without a mama, too. She ran off when I was five, but I don’t recall her being around much before that anyway.”

  Will disliked Lonnie talking about their mother that way. It was one thing for Lonnie to make those sorts of comments to Will, and another for him to spread the family’s dirty laundry around to other people. Will had socked him once for talking like that in front of a bunch of guys, and Lonnie cast him a nervous glance now, before chattering on.

  “You know, after all those years of fixin’ for ourselves, it seems like Will and I would be better at it than we are. Neither one of us can cook worth beans. I did take home-ec one semester in school,” he said with a grin. “I learned to make peanut butter cookies, but what was more important, I learned which girls would make peanut butter cookies for me.”

  Will took exception to the comment that he couldn’t cook. Maybe he was no chef, but he could cook quite passably. He made great over-easy eggs and real good hamburgers.

  He didn’t see the need to inject any of this into the conversation, though. He was dog-tired after spending the night outside and then working all day, and he had no inclination to converse at all. Pulling inside himself was as close as he could get to going off to Mexico.

  A couple of times Will’s eyes happened to meet Ruby Dee’s. He noticed her looking at the wound on his cheek. He could feel it had swollen. He imagined he did look a fright.

  Lonnie was now on the subject of brothers and sisters. Ruby Dee said she had been an only child, as far as she knew.

  “But I don’t guess anyone can really be certain of that, can they?” she said pointedly.

  Lonnie agreed and added, “I’ve sometimes wondered about my mom and if she had more children, ones we never knew about. Haven’t you, Will?”

  Will said, “Not particularly. Hand me that salsa.”

  “Will likes his food hot, in case you hadn’t noticed, Ruby Dee.”

  What Will noticed was that Lonnie hadn’t mentioned the children he might have fathered.

  Lonnie went on to the subject of his favorite foods. His list included just about anything with sugar in it. Ruby Dee’s list showed a definite preference for Mexican food, and when Lonnie commented on this, they learned that Ruby Dee’s daddy had been Mexican.

  “He was from Texas, not Mexico,” she clarified. “Still, to my mama’s family, he was Mexican, and that was it. They never did get over it.”

  For a second, it seemed Lonnie was at a loss for words, but then he came out with, “That happens.”

  Will didn’t think that was really saying anything at all, but it did seem to allow Lonnie to go smoothly on to less personal matters, such as Ruby Dee’s liking for the rodeo and where she had gotten her dog.

  When Ruby Dee refilled Will’s coffee cup, he thanked her, then watched her breasts as she straightened. He met her gaze, and he knew she’d noticed him looking. He felt his face grow red.

  He said, “You don’t have to wait on us...We didn’t hire you to be a maid.” That was the most he had said since sitting down at the table.

  She shrugged, the gesture sensual, and a small, slow smile touched her lips, while her gaze lingered on his. Then her eyes shifted to his wounded cheek. She didn’t say anything, though, just turned back toward the counter.

  Will’s gaze touched on her swaying earring and moved downward, following the graceful sweep of her back. When his eyes came around to Lonnie, he found his brother watching him.

  The next instant Lonnie jumped up and offered to help Ruby Dee with the dishes. Will sat there for a minute, watching them, as Lonnie teased and flirted. Lonnie started to put his arm around Ruby Dee’s shoulders, but his arm stopped in midair, and then he scratched his head, as if that was what he’d been going to do all along.

  Will finished his coffee, then slowly stretched his legs and rose. He guessed there wasn’t any more putting off going to speak to the old man. He didn’t expect much to come of it, but he felt
ready. He got a cup from the cabinet, filled it with coffee, and, without saying a word, took it in to the old man.

  The old man was in bed, just as he had been that morning, except the bed was now made and his clothes were clean. He was rumpled, though, and his hair stood on end worse than usual. Looking at him, a sense of helplessness swept Will. The old man appeared to be withering away.

  Will said, “I brought you a cup of coffee, Dad.”

  The old man looked at him but didn’t move.

  Will drew a deep breath and stepped over to set the coffee mug on the nightstand.

  Then he drew the chair from the wall, eased his dirty jeans and sat. His joints creaked. He and the old man looked at each other.

  “How are you feelin’, Dad?”

  The old man said, “Leave me be. I’m dyin’, and pretty soon you can have this place, just like you want.”

  “Aww, geez, Dad. What are you tryin’ to do— punish me? For what? Because I want somebody in here to take care of you? Because I’m tired of being treated like some kid hand?” He pushed to his feet, raking a hand through his hair. “Why is it like this between you and me? Huh? I come in here and ask a nice, civil question, and you gotta dig at me.”

  He stopped then, his words getting all jammed up in his throat. The old man just looked at him. Baiting him, Will thought.

  Will said, “I’m glad to see you feel strong enough to irritate me,” and walked out.

  In the hallway, he patted his pockets for a cigarette, which he didn’t have, of course. He continued on through the kitchen, past Lonnie and Ruby Dee, standing side by side, who turned to look at him. Letting the screen door slam behind him, he stalked out into the dwindling light of evening.

  Impatiently, he tugged his shirt from inside his jeans and let it fall loose. His body had cooled, but his shirt was stiff from dried sweat, and he itched.

  At his pickup, he got two cigarettes, lit one and walked down to the high-fenced pasture to see the mustang. The little border collie appeared and walked along beside him, which came as a surprise. The only time he had ever spoken to the dog had been that morning, and he’d done nothing more than pass a hand over its head. He guessed dogs were a lot different than people. It didn’t take much to impress a dog.