by Liz Tyner
He let out a flustered-sounding sigh. “This way.”
“Thank you,” she said, not meaning it. Well, she did mean it but didn’t want to be thankful for anything about him. He’d been rude and obstinate since she and Ruby had walked through the door. Why Anna had ever agreed to visit his ranch was beyond understanding, except that Anna had been keen on going west, on seeing new things, meeting new people. She’d done it, too. Just as she’d said she would.
Janette held her breath at the pang that stabbed her heart, knowing the rest of Anna’s dreams had all been cut short. As she had the past few weeks, she forced herself to think of Ruby and how wonderful it would be to take care of her. Love her. Just as Anna had wanted.
Silently, Gabe led her through the foyer that hosted the large beveled glass front door and then down a long wallpapered hallway. A few of the doors along the way were open, but she didn’t glance one way or the other. Her neck was on fire, and the burning was moving upward, into her ears and chin. Even her cheeks were starting to tingle.
He pushed open a door and pointed across the room. “Over there.”
Spying the room he’d indicated on the far side of the kitchen, she hurried but stopped at the table where Ruby sat. She already cherished her niece, had since the moment she’d been born. Kneeling down, Janette gestured toward a plate of cookies. “Did you have a cookie?”
Ruby nodded and grinned. “Two.”
Her heart skipped a beat every time she saw that smile and those miniature pearl-white teeth. “Good. You aren’t scared, are you?”
Ruby shook her head.
“Wonderful. There’s no need to be.” Patting the child’s knee, she said, “I’ll be right back.” She’d been telling Ruby there was no need to be scared since arriving in Texas and finding her at Mrs. Potter’s house. Telling herself, too. There was nothing to be afraid of. Absolutely nothing. Not even Gabe Callaway.
The kitchen was as big and as finely furnished as the rest of the house. So was the washroom. Besides a large bathing tub, it held a washing station complete with a porcelain washbasin, a rack holding clean towels and several other essentials, including a large mirror hanging on the wall.
A gasp escaped at the sight of her reflection, and she jolted forward, staring harder while unbuttoning her collar. Not only was her neck red, it was covered with blotches of white. The redness and swollen blotches spread beyond her neck. Upward, covering the bottom halves of her cheeks, her chin and… She leaned closer.
“What on earth?”
Her earlobes were twice the size they should be.
She unpinned her hat and set it aside. Using the dipper, she filled the basin and soaked a small towel. Wringing it out, she pressed the cloth to her neck. The cool dampness was heavenly, but it didn’t last. In fact, it seemed to increase the burning.
It had to help. Had to. She couldn’t walk around looking like this.
She dipped the cloth in the water, wrung it out and pressed it to her neck a second time.
Once again the relief was short-lived, and a touch of panic raced over her as she moved the cloth around her neck, pressing it against each section.
“Here’s your bag.”
She turned at the thud of her bag landing on a chair just inside the door.
Gabe stood in the doorway, frowning. “You might want to get rid of that lace.”
“I’ve worn this dress many times.” She had. It was one of her favorites. The fitted waist-length jacket was the reason, as well as the yards of delicate lace that encircled the collar and trimmed the hem. Pulling the cloth away in order to dip it in the water again, she stated, “The lace has never bothered me before.”
The room had seemed large, until he stepped into it. Her heart drummed against her breastbone, and she took a step back as he came closer.
“Hold still, I just want to look at that.”
Considering his size and harsh attitude, his touch was gentle as he used one finger and thumb to grasp her chin. He tilted her head one way, then the other and then upward while using his other hand to pull aside the lace collar of her dress as he examined her neck. His expression softened as his examination continued, which made her gulp at how concerned he appeared to be.
“I’ve never—”
“How’d you get here again?” he interrupted.
“I told you. We took a stagecoach from—”
“Once the stage dropped you off.”
“One of your hired hands picked us up.” Telling herself not to think about him, his closeness, his touch, she kept her eyes averted as he continued to examine her neck. The ceiling was high and painted white, as were the walls. It was a fine house. But it wasn’t holding her attention. He was pushing at her chin again, making her twist her neck one way and then the other.
“I probably wasn’t listening real close,” he said. “Which hired hand?”
She should remember the man’s name, but at the moment it eluded her. “I don’t know. Why?”
“What was he driving?”
“A wagon full of hay,” she answered, tugging her collar back in place when he let it loose.
He released her chin and stepped back. “You ever have poison ivy before?”
She let out the breath that had gotten stuck in her lungs. “Poi—No, never.”
“You do now.”
“That’s impossible.” She hurried back to the mirror and examined her neck more thoroughly. It was as red as before, worse maybe, as were the raised white blotches.
“Do you know what it looks like?”
“No,” she admitted while dipping the cloth in the water again, “but I wasn’t near any plants.” Pressing the cool cloth against her neck, she continued, “We were on the stage for nearly a week.”
“It grows wild around here, especially down by Beaver Creek. That’s where Dusty was cutting hay today,” he said.
That’s right. Dusty. Dusty Martin had been the man driving the wagon. “I didn’t touch the hay,” she said. “I sat on the seat with Ruby on my lap.”
“Don’t need to touch it.” He pointed toward the tub. “You need to get out of that dress and take a bath. Scrub with soap and water. Rosalie will bring you some baking soda and vinegar.”
An odd tingling started in her lips, and she tested the numbing sensation by nibbling on the bottom one before asking, “What for?”
“To put on your neck. The itching won’t stop until you do. And from the looks of your face, you best hurry.” He turned about and left the room, addressing the housekeeper as he walked over the threshold. “Check Ruby for any signs of poison ivy.”
“Already did,” the housekeeper said. “She looks fine.”
Janette turned back to the mirror and gasped. Oh, dear heavens! Her lips were swollen twice their size, and so were her earlobes. “No. No. This can’t be.” They hadn’t been that way a moment ago. She pinched her lips together and flinched at how fat and numb they felt. After dipping the cloth in the water again, she wrung it out and pressed it to her lips. This was unbelievable. Poison ivy. She’d heard of it but had never had it. Couldn’t even remember if she’d known someone who had.
Still holding the cloth against her lips, she pinched an earlobe with her other hand. Though the mirror showed her action, she couldn’t feel it. Her lobes were numb.
Numb.
“Go ahead and get undressed,” Rosalie said, walking into the room. She wasn’t elderly, but older and plump with a good mix of gray and brown hair and wrinkles that gave her cheery face a permanent smile. Dumping a kettle full of steaming water into the big tub, she said, “I have more water heating.”
The itching was worse now, perhaps because she knew the cause. Janette put down the cloth and then sat down on the chair to remove her shoes. “Thank you,” she said, as Rosalie turned about.
“Everything you need is right over there, on the shelf beside the tub. Put your clothes in that basket. They’ll need to be washed right away.”
Not knowing much about
poison ivy, but glad her lips still worked while being fatter than carrots, Janette asked, “Is it contagious?”
“Only to those who are allergic to it,” Rosalie said.
“You checked Ruby?” Janette pulled off her stockings. “She’s not itching?” The child had already been through so much; she certainly didn’t need this. Mentioning the itching made her neck start burning again. Or maybe it had been all along and the swelling of her lips had stolen her attention for a few minutes.
“Yes, I checked her, and no, she’s not itching, but she’ll have a bath as soon as you’re done, just to be sure,” Rosalie said, walking back toward the doorway. “Stop scratching at it. You’re making it worse.” She shook her head. “That’s poison ivy all right. You must be really sensitive to it. Some people don’t break out for a day or two.” As she pulled the door shut, Rosalie said, “You’ll need to wash your hair, too.”
Janette’s mind wasn’t on her hair. They wouldn’t still be here in a day or two. Of all things. Poison ivy. Why did this have to happen? She already had enough to deal with, namely Gabe Callaway. She’d considered taking Ruby directly to Kansas City, and probably should have but couldn’t. Once they got home, leaving again would be too difficult. Mrs. Hanks had said customers were stopping by daily in the last telegram she’d sent, a reply to the one Janette had sent from Mobeetie, stating she and Ruby would be leaving Texas as soon as possible.
She’d sent another telegram to Mrs. Hanks during one of the stagecoach stops, stating they were on their way but making a brief stop in Kansas at the Triple C. She’d already been gone longer than she’d anticipated and did worry about Thelma being all alone.
Janette huffed out a sigh as she tossed her stockings into the basket. It just couldn’t be helped. She’d brought Ruby to the ranch, to meet her uncle Gabe, just as Anna and Max had wanted. Anna had blamed herself for the rift between Gabe and Max and hoped that someday they would find a way to settle things. Every letter she’d written had made mention of how much Max missed Gabe and how badly he wanted Gabe to meet Ruby. In return letters, Janette had assured that in time, the brothers would make amends. Anna’s responses were always the same. That she hoped so, but that Gabe was stubborn and may never understand how she and Max fell in love with each other so quickly.
Janette let out another sigh as she started to unbutton her jacket. She now understood just how stubborn Gabe was, and how staunch. The closest thing to a smile she’d seen him make was when he’d asked Ruby if she wanted a cookie.
Still, stubborn or not, Anna and Max should have been honest about their love for one another and not run away knowing Gabe expected Anna to marry him.
That could make a man be unwilling to forgive, but it had been five years.
Anna had claimed both she and Max agreed they shouldn’t have run off like they had and were sorrowful for the rift they’d caused but held steadfast that not only had their love been first and foremost on their minds, Gabe would never have listened to what they had to say.
They may have been right. He certainly hadn’t been willing to listen to anything she’d had to say. He’d interrupted her so many times her mind had felt as if it was filled with grasshoppers going in all directions at once. It hadn’t been until she’d pointed out that Ruby had been hungry that he’d paused long enough for her to collect her thoughts.
Gabe certainly was different from Max. She’d traveled to Texas to be with Anna during Ruby’s birth. Max had been very welcoming and grateful that she’d come—so very unlike his brother’s welcome a short time ago.
Her heart constricted. It saddened her all over again, knowing Anna and Max were gone. There wasn’t anything that she could do about it, and could only hope that someday Gabe might appreciate the fact that she’d given him the chance to meet his niece. It was what his brother had wanted. What her sister had wanted. And they had truly been in love with each other. She’d seen that when she made that trip to Texas. Seeing Max and Anna together, so proud and happy about the birth of Ruby, had made her realize something else. Father had never really loved Mother—or them. Not in a way a man should love his family. Max had barely let Anna out of his sight, whereas her father had never been home.
“You aren’t undressed yet?” Rosalie asked, opening the door.
Forced to concentrate on the facts at hand, Janette jumped to her feet and shrugged out of her jacket. “You’ll keep an eye on Ruby for me?”
“Of course, just get undressed and get in this tub. You have to wash the oil off your skin before you spread it from tip to tail.” Rosalie dumped two buckets of water into the tub. “I’ll be in with more hot water in a minute, and you better be undressed.”
Copyright © 2018 by Lauri Robinson
ISBN-13: 9781488086533
Redeeming the Roguish Rake
Copyright © 2018 by Elizabeth Tyner
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