Letter Perfect

by Cathy Marie Hake

  Laney whispered across the table, “Galen, Mr. Farnsworth is Ruth’s attorney. He traveled clear to California on her behalf!”

  Ruth patted Galen’s hand. “I have wonderful news.”

  “Indeed, she does.” McCain agreed heartily.

  “Josh and Laney and I decided to start a library!”

  McCain blustered, and Ruth couldn’t help noticing how Josh and Farnsworth both suddenly had to lift their napkins to muffle coughs.

  “Is that so?” Galen turned his chair toward her a little, effectively blocking McCain from being able to glower directly at her. “A library. Imagine! I’ve ne’er been to one, but I read about it in the newspaper.”

  “I’m collecting titles of books that folks would like to read and also a list of their favorites.”

  “Ruth says books are like old friends,” Laney said. “You can visit them time and again and enjoy the story anew.”

  “A library is a fine idea,” Farnsworth agreed. “Of my more recent readings, I thoroughly enjoyed Melville’s Pierre and The Encantadas. He’s a very gifted author.”

  “Those aren’t on the list.” Ruth started rummaging in the reticule. “I need to write them down before I forget.”

  “I have paper in my case.” Farnsworth pulled out a crisp sheet. “I don’t carry ink, however.”

  “Just as well,” McCain grumbled. “Working at the table—” Pulling a stubby pencil from her reticule, Ruth sang, “I have a pencil.”

  “We’re not working, Daddy,” Laney said. “We’re planning a charitable deed. I think Ruth is kind to allow us to help her so we can all take pleasure in the final result.”

  That’s twice Laney’s been the peacemaker at the table. Bless her heart—God gave her a special gift.

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Ruth, you’re quite an extraordinary young lady to consider such an undertaking.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McCain. Tell me, what books would you like to see the library carry?”

  “If you’ll pass me the pencil, I’d be happy to keep a list,” Farnsworth offered.

  “I’d appreciate that. I get so enthusiastic, I forget to write things down, or I write them and later cannot read my own penmanship.” Ruth laughed.

  “I loved penmanship,” Laney said. “It’s like drawing row after row of pretty little sketches.”

  “Would you care to keep the list?” Farnsworth started to set the paper in front of Laney.

  Laney shot Ruth a panic-stricken look.

  Ruth groaned dramatically. “She’ll never keep up. Her handwriting is exquisite, but she puts so much into each word, we’ll still be here for supper.”

  “Who are you kidding?” Josh snorted. “Breakfast tomorrow.”

  “I’m not that slow!” Laney slipped the sheet of paper back in front of the attorney. “But I’m not going to give them a chance to prove their point. Now, Daddy, you were going to tell us what books you’d like in the library.”

  All through lunch, the conversation revolved around books. Ruth loved having everyone involved in planning what she needed to acquire. The fact that McCain couldn’t very well fawn all over her or snap at others certainly helped.

  Approaching the table with the bill, Myrtle asked, “Who gets this?” Josh reached for it.

  “It’s mine.” Farnsworth rose. “I must say, I can’t recall ever having a more pleasant luncheon.”

  Galen separated from them, but Farnsworth accompanied the others outside and helped Laney into the buckboard. Josh popped Hilda onto the seat again, then curled his hands around Ruth’s waist. “I’m proud of you,” he murmured. “I was about to strangle Dad, and you were every inch a lady.”

  “I gave consideration to spilling something on him.”

  Josh laughed as he lifted her. “That’s my girl!”

  “Oh, wait. I dropped my reticule.”

  Josh set her back down. He knew full well she’d dropped it on purpose. Though he bent to retrieve it, she stooped down as well.

  Ruth whispered, “Could you ask Mr. Farnsworth to stay? I think we may need his expertise.”

  “Sure thing,” he said in a low tone, then raised his voice. “Here you are.”

  “Thank you. It’s so dusty!” She rose and beat at the purse with notable zeal.

  “Here. I’ll lift you up.” Josh situated her in the buckboard.

  Farnsworth cleared his throat. “Before I departed, I purchased a few books for leisure reading. They’re not fine literature, but they do help pass the time. Would you be averse to adding them to your library? They’re mere dime novels.”

  “Dime novels?” Laney’s sun parasol popped open as an exclamation mark to her enthusiasm. “Ruth and I just read one!”

  “Well, then.” Farnsworth pulled two from his case. “I’m happy to share.”

  “Thank you!”

  Josh mounted up. “How do you like that? Your very first books for the library.”

  Ruth smiled. “This makes my dream seem so much closer to being real now.”

  “Miss Caldwell, I have no doubt that the library will be a huge success.”

  “Hey, Josh!”

  Josh turned and waved at Galen, then turned to Ruth. “I’ll return to the Broken P a little later. I have something I need to do.”

  Ruth turned back to her attorney. “Have a safe journey home, Mr. Farnsworth. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the personal effort this task has been.”

  “I enjoyed the trip. After reading about the prairies and vistas, I wanted to see it all for myself.”

  “You’re such a gallant man,” Laney said. “I found traveling to school and back to be nothing but endless misery.”

  “You are a credit to your firm and to your family.” Ruth gave her praise with all sincerity.

  “Thank you, Miss Caldwell. We appreciate your business and will strive to continue to prove worthy of the faith you hold in Farnsworth, Tabbard, and Farnsworth. Good day, ladies.” His smile faded as he curtly nodded toward Josh and Laney’s father. “McCain.”

  “Now there was a fine young man,” Hilda said as he walked his mount toward the livery.

  “He loomed like a vulture.” McCain set the wagon in motion. “If I hadn’t asserted myself, he would have tried to court Ruth just for her money.”

  So there’s nothing about me that a man would find attractive?

  “That’s not true, Daddy. Why, I thought he was quite attentive to me, too.”

  “Money matters to men.” McCain cleared his throat. “At least to most of ’em. I’m a keen judge of character, and we’re well rid of that one.”

  Lord, I know I’m not supposed to judge, but I’m failing here. Mr. McCain is the most dreadful man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.

  “I can hardly wait to read these,” Laney said as she held the dime novels.

  Ruth stopped praying. She couldn’t imagine how someone as pure and kind as Laney could have such a wicked man for her father.

  “Ruth, why don’t you read the first chapter aloud as we go home? I can take up where you leave off later.”

  “It’ll be too hard to read in the wagon. It jostles.”

  “You’d look pretty as could be in a well-sprung surrey,” McCain said.

  “Yes, Laney, you would,” Ruth said, purposefully shifting the older man’s attention off of herself. “Then again, you’d look just as darling in a wheelbarrow.”

  Laney giggled. “A wheelbarrow might be fun, depending on who’s pushing it.”

  “Enough of that,” McCain said. “You’re too young yet to think of courting. When you get to be Ruth’s age, that’ll be just about right.”

  “I have no need to marry. I rather think being a spinster might suit me quite well.” Ruth twirled her paper parasol. “Why, I could have a house built next to the library and live there with two cats and three canaries.”

  “If you have cats, the canaries won’t live long,” Laney teased.

  “If you don’t marry, you’ll regret it,
” McCain said.

  “Yes, Ruth. You’d make such a good mother.” Laney clutched the novels. “You’re so patient and loving.”

  “There’s nothing so sweet as the praise of a true friend,” Ruth said. “But I could care about my friends and neighbors, and I could be patient with the library patrons. I was even thinking that there must be a lot of citizens in Folsom who received only minimal schooling. I could tutor them in reading and mathematics.”

  “You don’t have to work for a living. Why bother?” McCain cast a paternalistic smile at her over his shoulder. “I know you want to do good things for others, Ruth, but you can hire someone and dedicate yourself to a woman’s highest calling.”

  “Having children,” Laney promptly added.

  “No.” McCain shook his head. “There are women who never have children, child. Such a woman graces her husband’s home with warmth and happiness. She makes sure all runs smoothly and considers being his companion as complete fulfillment.”

  Ruth heaved a loud, unladylike sigh. “That sounds just like what all of the headmistresses said. Oh, they added in that a lady could bear her husband’s heirs, but the nannies would see to their upbringing. I found that whole concept appalling.”

  “I wouldn’t want my children to have a nanny, either.”

  “Laney, of course you will. You’ll wed a man of fine station and not have to spend sleepless nights with cranky babies or tantruming children.” Her father nodded his head. “That’s the way it will be.”

  “Good thing the parson isn’t here to overhear this. He’d be sure your father is trying to foretell the future.” Hilda’s wry tone set Ruth and Laney into laughter.

  Ruth reached over and took the books from Laney. “Arabella’s Doom. That sounds spine-chilling. What’s the other one?” She handed it back to Laney.

  Laney shot her a panicked look.

  “I was brave enough to try to read the first one’s title as we bounced along. You can do the other one.”

  “The Ban—” Laney moistened her lips. “The Bandit Rides Again.”

  McCain snorted. “The Bandit Rides Again? Sounds like utter drivel to me.”

  Hilda shrugged. “You gals read the first one. I’m gonna claim The Bandit.”

  “What a wonderful idea. Laney, we’ll start as soon as we get home. Then we can trade with Hilda when we finish it.”

  “Good idea,” Hilda agreed. “May as well read the books as have ’em sitting around, gathering dust until Ruth gets that new library started.”

  “You seem to have a lot of time to spare,” McCain said.

  “Organization is the key to success.” Laney gently tapped Hilda’s side so she’d turn around and accept the book. “That’s what they taught me at school, Daddy.”

  “And so it is with Ruth and her little library. She can organize others to run it. I’m sure she’ll want to be free to pursue other interests—perhaps travel or do more painting.”

  “I didn’t particularly enjoy traveling out here,” Ruth said. “As for painting—well, Laney and I have a lovely time each morning as we paint. Laney is so very gifted. I think even the fine-art academies in Paris would admit her!”

  “I’d miss home too much,” Laney said. “When I was away at school, I was horribly homesick. I never want to be far away from the Broken P again.”

  “You won’t mind when you have a husband and new family to love,” her father said.

  “I’m planning to marry someone who lives nearby. Then I’ll have everything!”

  McCain snorted. “There’s not a single man in the state who’s good enough for you!”

  “Laney,” Ruth added, “you can always live with me and the cats and canaries.”

  When they reached home, Ruth scrambled out of the buckboard so she wouldn’t have to let McCain help her down. Hilda disembarked with a few loud grunts, and Laney didn’t seem to mind how her father wrapped his good arm around her waist and sort of wheeled her down to earth.

  “Come on, Ruth. Let’s go upstairs and start reading!”

  “What Ruth needs to read is the investment portfolio the lawyer dropped off. Ruth, honey, you scamper upstairs and bring it down to the parlor. I’ll go over it with you.”

  “No.” Shocked by his unmitigated gall, Ruth stared at him.

  “Isn’t any of your business,” Hilda groused.

  “Mind your own affairs or you’ll be looking elsewhere for work,” McCain snapped at the housekeeper.

  “I can see I’m not the only one whose tummy is upset by that restaurant food.” Laney wiggled between her father and Hilda. “We’re all a little out of sorts. I suppose we’ve grown spoiled by Hilda’s fine meals, so nothing else measures up.”

  “Ruth can bring me the portfolio and then go rest.”

  Forcing a smile, Ruth shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but it would be best for me to go on up and rest along with Laney. I’m perfectly able to see to my own matters. Besides, I promised Laney we’d read. I couldn’t go back on my word.” She grabbed Laney’s hand and raced away, knowing she’d waylaid McCain’s interference for only a time. He was sure to corner her again … and soon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Arranging for Galen to call him away had worked well. Josh stayed in town and spoke with the sheriff and Rick Maltby. They’d had a bookkeeper examine the copies of the books Rick made and he confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dad had embezzled.

  “Since Alan is dead, he cannot press charges. At present, it’s a crime against only you, Josh. We can turn a blind eye if you’re willing to accept being a wronged party; but if Ruth does inherit as much as one percent of the Broken P, we’ll have to press charges against your father.”

  The whole ride home, Josh struggled with himself. He’d asked Ruth to pursue the claim; if her claim prevailed, he’d set his father up to go to jail. Lord, I’d forgive him and move on, but now I don’t know what to do. I’ll stand behind what is right and the woman I love, but that means going against Dad and exposing Laney to the truth. There must be another choice.You have to have a plan I can’t see. Open my eyes, Father.

  Dad was pacing on the veranda when Josh rode up. “We need to talk, son.”

  “Sure, Dad.” Josh dismounted and started for the steps.

  “Out in the yard.” Dad cast a quick glance back at the house as he descended those steps. They went out toward a paddock, and Josh propped a boot up on the lowest rung of the fencing. Dad blustered, “I won’t have you stealing money from the accounts.”

  “What?!”

  “You bought goods and gave them away. I could have gotten repayment from O’Sullivan at lunch today, but you stuck your nose in and ruined it.”

  Josh stayed silent for a minute. He about left a groove in his tongue, biting it to keep from angrily accusing his father of deception. Instead, he quietly said, “Cullen O’Sullivan is dying. The family needs help.”

  “Your mother died. No one helped us. I made her a promise that I’d take care of the two of you, and I did it on my own.”

  “Dad, think of the few paltry dollars I spent on those canning supplies as an investment in Laney’s safety. It gave me an excuse to keep her far from home when you weren’t here to keep watch and safeguard her. I can’t very well run the ranch while sitting in the house, and I’m relying on you to scare off anyone who might harm either of the girls.”

  The muscle in Dad’s jaw stopped twitching.

  “I still can’t fathom why anyone hurt her, Dad. I’m glad you’re home. If anything more happens, we might have to send Laney away again.”

  “We won’t have to do that. She’ll be fine. I’ll see to her.” He thumped the center of his chest. “I’ll see to both of the girls.”

  Josh chuckled. “Ruth’s going to be harder to keep track of. She has a wild streak in her nature.”

  “I’ll tame her.”

  “She’s not a mustang that you have to break. Ruth has a mind of her own.”

  McCain scowled. “
She just proved that point. I told her to bring down the portfolio her lawyer brought. The girl thanked me, then said she’d handle things on her own. If she hadn’t already promised Laney that they’d spend the afternoon reading together, I would have had to get firm. Tomorrow—” His father made a fist and banged in on the top rail of the fence.

  “She has plenty to live on for a long while. As for her investments— they’re back East. She decided before she came out here to leave them be. I doubt she’ll change her mind about that.”

  “They’re going to war, son. She ought to cash out and reinvest here. There’s a railroad. The girl could make a tidy profit.”

  “Her grief is still fresh. It’s hard enough on her to have moved such a distance. Give her time. Pressuring her will only make her dig in her heels.”

  “Some opportunities demand that you invest immediately.”

  Josh leaned into the fence. “Like what?”

  “Things.” McCain turned his head and squinted into the distance. “Especially the stage and railroad.”

  “I know we’re running a lean operation here—first years are always tight. But if you have a good prospect, we could look at the books and maybe budget for a wise investment.” Lord, please have him tell me he’s already done that. Let this whole thing be innocent.

  Dad shook his head. “But Ruth—she could sell her diamonds. I need to know how many she has and what they’re worth. She trusts you.”

  But she doesn’t trust you. Neither do I—and for good cause.

  When they’d been in the bank, Josh had seen his father’s eyes narrow and face darken when he pulled the velvet pouch of diamonds from his vest pocket at Ruth’s request. It stung Dad’s pride that she hadn’t asked him to safeguard her diamonds.

  The bank president had the teller go fetch Folsom’s one and only jeweler. He’d arrived with his loupe and gone off to a corner desk to independently verify the certifications Ruth held. To Dad’s obvious frustration, neither the jeweler nor the bank president mentioned the number or value of the gems.

  “Yes,” Dad said in an acid tone, “The girl trusts you.”

  “I’ll be worthy of Ruth’s trust.”