“Do you like apple dumplings?”
She shrugged.
“You’ve never had them?” he asked, pretending to be surprised.
Her face grew serious as she shook her head.
She was adorable, this niece of his, and he was going to enjoy having her around. Not just because she reminded him of Max, or because she was the future of the Triple C, but because she was his family, and it felt good to have family again. Completely ignoring the hold Janette had on Ruby, he scooped the child, kitten and all, into his arms and stood. “You’re going to like them,” he said while walking toward the table. “They are very good.”
Rosalie set a basket on the floor, complete with a towel already lining the bottom.
“Let’s put your kitten in the basket while we eat,” Gabe said. “We’ll leave the basket right by your chair, so you can watch the kitten.”
Ruby agreed with a nod. Once the kitten was settled, mainly because he tossed a small chunk of meat into the basket, he set Ruby on a chair and sat in the one beside her.
Janette sat on Ruby’s other side, and if the look on her face was anything to go by, he’d say she wasn’t pleased. That didn’t bother him in the least. Neither did her red cheeks. They could be that way because of the poison ivy. Her neck was still red, but her lips were no longer swollen. Her ears weren’t either. Rather than piling her hair up on her head, she’d left it hanging down her back, in long, shiny black waves.
Gabe pulled his eyes off her.
“Ruby’s been having a heyday with those kittens,” Rosalie said as she set another pot on the table. “That little black-and-white one took to her straight off, didn’t it, Janette?”
Janette seemed a bit taken aback but recovered quickly enough. “Yes. The two of them certainly have been inseparable.”
“Max had a way with animals,” Gabe said. He wasn’t sure if he’d meant to say it aloud or not, but wasn’t disappointed that he’d opened his mouth due to the way Ruby smiled at him.
“Max is my dada.”
“I know,” he answered, smiling at her as brightly as she was smiling at him.
“And you’re my uncle.”
Her words weren’t clearly spoken, but he understood them. So did his heart. “That’s right. I am.”
“Uncle Gabe.”
“That’s me.” He tickled her beneath the chin. “And you are Ruby.” Glancing across the table at Janette, he added, “My niece.”
* * *
Janette had been holding her breath so long she was sure her lips had turned blue. Gabe was not only rude, he was as arrogant as he was tall. And smug. So very smug.
Furthermore, what was he thinking, giving Ruby a kitten? It couldn’t travel with them back to Kansas City, and leaving it would hurt Ruby. Lord knows the child had already lost enough. Gabe should realize that. As her uncle, he should think of her first. Her feelings.
“Are you not hungry?”
Unaware the prayer of thanks had ended, Janette lifted her head and was met by his questioning frown. “I was merely stating my own thanks,” she said, flinching inside at her own lie.
“Well, it must have been a long one, your food is getting cold,” he said.
Janette lifted her fork and ate, though she wasn’t certain she tasted anything. Ruby had, though. She cleaned her plate not once but twice and then ate an entire apple dumpling. However, the last few bites seemed to wear her completely out.
“Oh, look at the little darling,” Rosalie said quietly. “She can barely keep her eyes open. Let’s get her up to bed.”
“Put her in Max’s room,” Gabe said as he stood. “And don’t forget her kitten.”
Janette had risen from her chair, and as she lifted Ruby into her arms, she said, “Perhaps it would be better if it slept on the porch with the rest of the kittens.”
“No, I told her she could take it up to her room,” he said.
“But—”
“I’d like to speak to you in the parlor as soon as Ruby and her kitten are settled in her room,” he said.
Carrying the basket and heading to the stairway in the corner, Rosalie said, “This way, Janette.”
Ruby’s arms were wrapped around Janette’s neck, and though it didn’t hurt, it was uncomfortable only because the skin was so irritated. Gabe’s stance said he expected his orders followed. She would like to defy him, just to make a point, but standing here, arguing, wouldn’t do any of them any good, so without a word, Janette followed Rosalie up the staircase. She would talk with him afterward and thoroughly explain that Ruby could not keep the kitten.
Though the house was large, the layout was fairly simple and Janette no longer worried about not finding her way, but she was still in awe a bit. Kansas City had several large houses, many of her customers lived in rather lavish homes and she often delivered gowns or did fittings in those homes. There were times she’d admired the fine workmanship and furnishings. She didn’t do that here. Mainly because she didn’t want to.
“Here we are,” Rosalie said. “You’ll be in the room right next door. As long as you keep both doors open, you’ll be able to hear Ruby’s every move.”
Taking in the large room as Rosalie led the way to the bed, Janette said, “I’ll sleep in here with Ruby. I wouldn’t want her to wake up and be alone.” The room was furnished with fashionable pieces, not only the bed, but a dressing table, chest of drawers and standing wardrobe. There was also a pair of chairs near the window, separated by a round table.
“Do you want to put her in her nightie?” Rosalie asked while setting the basket on the floor near the bed. “I can go get her things off the line. I’m sure they’re dry.”
“This shift is hardly dirty,” Janette answered. Traveling on the stage from Texas had been a long and uncomfortable journey, and she didn’t want to interrupt the sleep Ruby had already entered. “We’ve stayed at stagecoach stops the past several nights, arriving late and leaving early. A full night of sleep will do her as much good as the bath and wonderful meal has.”
Rosalie pulled back the covers. “Lay her down. I hadn’t thought of your travels. You must be exhausted, too.”
“It’s been a long day,” Janette admitted while tucking the covers around Ruby. The bed was not only far softer than anything she’d slept on for nearly a month, it was larger and cleaner. Considering Gabe was waiting to speak with her downstairs, it would be some time before she’d be able to climb in beside Ruby.
“Why, you have to be as ready for bed as Ruby,” Rosalie said. “Gabe will understand that and—”
“He is waiting for me,” Janette interrupted. “I best get down to the parlor.” She had no desire to talk with him, none at all, but the sooner it was done, the sooner she could crawl in beside Ruby. Carrying the sleeping child had suddenly made her just as tired.
Rosalie took the kitten out of the basket and set it down next to Ruby, where it instantly curled into a ball. Janette should insist the kitten be returned to the porch but chose not to. If Ruby awoke before she returned, the kitten would ease her fears.
As she and Rosalie left the room, Janette said, “It’s my understanding there is a train station close by.”
“Just a few miles north of the house,” Rosalie said. “Every train heading east and west stops there to take on water and wood.”
“Is there a town?”
“No. The station is on Triple C land. It was a deal Jacob made with the railroad years ago.”
The small amount of information she had about the Triple C was from the letters Anna had written over the years. “Jacob Callaway? Max and Gabe’s father?”
“Yes. When the railroad approached Jacob about selling property to them, he made an arrangement instead.”
“What sort of arrangement?”
“I don’t know all the details,” Rosalie said. “You’d have to ask
Gabe. But we are 140 miles west of Hays and 180 east of Colorado Springs, with not a whole lot in between. The railroad needed us, and we needed it. Especially back then.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked as they started down the stairway that led back down to the kitchen.
“Traveling through this country even as few as ten years ago wasn’t as safe as it is today. The army fort, which is now deserted, was the only thing out in this area, other than Indians and the Triple C. Going on about fifteen years ago, there was a family traveling through that a band of Southern Cheyenne attacked. They killed the parents and three older children, but they took the four younger ones, all girls, as captives.”
Janette had heard many such tales. Stories like that were the reason she and Anna and their mother remained in Kansas City while her father lived in several of the army forts scattered throughout Kansas over the years.
“Did they ever discover what became of the girls?” she asked, assuming they were never found. That was how most of the stories ended.
“The two younger ones were just five and seven and come winter, the Cheyenne abandoned them in northern Texas. When the soldiers found them, they figured they’d been alone for over six weeks. They also found the other two girls and negotiated their releases. All four girls were reunited and sent back to family in the east somewhere.”
“That’s remarkable,” Janette said as they arrived in the kitchen. None of her father’s stories ever had happy endings. Or as happy as they could be.
“Yes, it was,” Rosalie said. “The railroad came through not long after that, and we’ve been supplying the locomotives with water and wood ever since. Of course, they also haul cattle in and out of here for us, as well as any other supplies we need.”
Janette merely nodded. Anna had mentioned a train station near the ranch, but the stage depot in Texas hadn’t heard of it, so she was glad to know it was still in operation. The last stage driver they’d had seemed kinder than some of the others, but there hadn’t been time to question him. Another passenger had been curt enough about them stopping at the crossroad, which was an unscheduled stop, he’d rudely pointed out. A train ride to Kansas City would be much more comfortable than the stagecoaches had been and not nearly as long. Her trip to Texas had started on a train, but few trains went north and south, therefore most of that trip had been by coaches, as well. She would be glad to be done with them. It had been close to a month since she’d received the notice of Anna’s and Max’s deaths and left Kansas City.
“I’ll get your things off the line,” Rosalie said. “And put them up in your room.”
“I’ll get them,” Janette said, walking toward the door.
“Gabe’s waiting on you in the parlor,” Rosalie said.
“I know,” Janette answered. “And I’ll join him as soon as I get the things off the line.” She pushed open the door and stepped onto the back porch. “And put them away.”
It wasn’t like her to be obstinate, but she hadn’t had to follow orders for years now. It had been ten years since their mother had died and five since Anna had left home. A woman does a lot of learning between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, and a good portion of it has to do with men.
She’d learned plenty before then even. Her father had died only a year before Mother, but being an army man had meant he’d rarely been home. She had several memories of him, but most of them included how her mother would beg for him to allow them all to go with him and how he’d refused. He always claimed it wasn’t safe, and, being the dutiful daughter, she’d agreed with him.
Being younger, Anna hadn’t remembered their father’s absence in the same way, and had always dreamed of marrying and having a large family. Janette hadn’t. She would love having Ruby live with her and would take very good care of her, but that would be all the family she ever needed. She’d seen how years of waiting for a man to return took its toll on a woman, and she’d never be that woman.
The wind fought her as she removed the clothes from the line. However, Janette discovered the unrelenting wind was good for something. It had whipped the clothes so hard there was barely a wrinkle in their garments. She folded each garment before setting them in the basket, including the tapestry traveling bags that Rosalie had also washed, and then carried the lot inside and upstairs. Sunlight still shone in through the windows, so she packed everything except for the clothing she and Ruby would need for tomorrow, which would need a mere touch of ironing.
Then, drawing in a deep breath, she started for the doorway. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she paused to check her appearance and flinched. The skin was still tender, so she hadn’t forgotten about the poison ivy, but with so much on her mind, she had forgotten how she looked. Her neck and chin were still red and blotchy, making her look like some sort of leper. A closer examination said a few of the blisters were weeping.
How could Gabe take her seriously when she looked like this? Spinning away from the mirror, she walked back to the table where she’d left her bag and dug out a handkerchief. He made her nervous enough. She certainly didn’t need to look like something that would make dogs cower.
Back at the mirror, she blotted each blister. Twice. But it was of little use. She still looked awful. Dreadful. Frightful.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered. “What does it matter? I’m not here to impress Gabe Callaway in any way.”
She set the handkerchief on the dresser, took a deep breath and walked out the door.
The front staircase led to the foyer, and she took a deep breath while holding on to the newel post before taking the final step off the steps and turning toward the parlor. He was in there, sitting in one of the leather upholstered wing-backed chairs flanking the fireplace that took up a good portion of the inside wall.
With her head held high, she entered the room. The glint in his eyes as he glanced up was easy to read. So be it. A few minutes of waiting didn’t cause any damage. Other than in his attitude toward her, which had been as black as a thunderhead since she’d arrived.
Slow and meticulously, he folded the newspaper he’d been reading and set it on the table beside his chair.
She waited, but when it was clear he wasn’t going to invite her to take a seat, she crossed the room and sat on the sofa that faced the fireplace and his chair.
The borrowed dress she wore was made of common cotton and dyed a pale blue and fitted her well enough, but she certainly would have been more comfortable in one of her own creations. She took pride in everything she sewed, and that sense of pride also gave her courage. Something she needed right now. Changing into one of her outfits would have taken more time, but it would have been worth it. She should have realized that. Her pistol that fitted perfectly in all her dress pockets would have been comforting, too. As it was, it was in the bottom of her bag upstairs.
It would also help if her neck hadn’t started to itch again.
“How much do you want?”
Lifting her gaze to meet his very serious one, she asked, “Excuse me?”
“How much do you want?”
“How much what?”
He leaned forward and propped both hands on his knees. “There is no need to pretend, Miss Parker. We both know you are here so I will give you money. The question is how much?”
Janette planted both hands on the sofa cushions beside her thighs to keep from jumping to her feet. After drawing in a breath to quell her anger, she blew it out slowly and pulled up a snide smile. “I assure you, Mr. Callaway, the last thing I’m after is money.”
Never taking his eyes off her, he leaned back in his chair. “I find that doubtful.”
He must also find it doubtful that she had plenty of her own money. Money she’d earned by sewing seven days a week for the past ten years. She couldn’t say why it irritated her like it did. Men were the ones after money. Isaac Fredrickson certainly had been. Recalli
ng his name made a lump form in her throat. Drawing in a breath to settle her nerves, she asked, “Why would you find that doubtful?”
“Why else would you be here?”
In order to keep from snapping, she bit the inside of her lip until it stung. Then, calmly, she said, “I’m here so Ruby could meet her uncle.”
“Ruby is three and had no say in where you chose to take her.”
“That is true,” she admitted. “However, Anna knew how much Max wanted you to know about Ruby. To meet her. She mentioned that in every letter she wrote to me. Therefore, I felt obligated to bring her here for you to meet.”
“And to request funds to raise her.”
“No—”
“Please don’t insult me, Miss Parker.”
Before she could stop herself, she’d jumped to her feet. “Insult you? And exactly what, Mr. Callaway, are you doing to me? Insulting me. That’s what you’re doing.” Unable to stand still, she crossed the room, gulping in air to ease the anger flaring bright and hot inside her. “I am not—let me repeat that—am not here to request money from you.” Spinning around, she marched back toward him. “Although it is none of your business, I have more than enough funds to raise Ruby.”
He stood, but his stone-cold expression hadn’t changed. “Are you saying you’re a wealthy woman?”
She stopped near the sofa and eyed him directly. “That would depend upon your definition of wealth. My home is not nearly as extravagant as yours, nor my business as broad, but I have more than enough to provide for a child.”
“Providing for a child takes more than money, Miss Parker.”
He was so cold, so unemotional, she almost laughed. Only because he was making her that nervous. And angry. “Do you think I don’t know that?”
“I think you didn’t do a very good job the first time around.”
Momentarily taken aback, she had to contemplate his answer. “Are you referring to the poison ivy? That wasn’t my fault, and—”
“No, I’m referring to your sister. Anna.” Lifting a brow as he gave her face and neck a rather scrutinizing examination, he held his tongue until their gazes met again. “As I recall, you didn’t do a very good job raising Anna. You drove her away.”
Married to Claim the Rancher's Heir Page 4
