Ruby swung her feet to the floor and stood. She gathered her dressing gown, draping it around her shoulders. Sleep wasn’t coming anytime soon, and she didn’t want to spend another moment analyzing her life. Tiptoeing to the shelf, Ruby retrieved the portable writing desk and pushed the drapes back far enough to flood a corner of the room with moonlight.
Otto lifted his head from the basket and yawned. The dog thumped his tail three times before lowering his chin to the cushion.
A book rested on the wine-colored chair by the window. Ruby picked up the novel before sitting. Jack London, again. Abby’s devotion to adventure stories amused her. Ruby’s sisters had always read romances, and Ruby preferred classic literature. She flipped through the pages, pausing on an illustration of a snow-covered forest. She slid her finger down the lines of a particularly lovely tree.
Ruby set the opened book on top of her lap desk and rested her head against the wingback chair. The whole Larkspur/Fischer family reminded her of trees—standing tall in the face of storms and adversity. Their shared experiences of pain and loss in the past year drew them closer together. Her mind wandered over each member of the family—Clara, Herman, Mae, Abby—even little Davy. Strong trees bending in the wind, but not breaking under the strain. And Gerald stood tall, the heart of the forest around which the others gathered.
She touched her lips, the memory of his kiss flooding back. Only a fool would deny herself the love of such a man—one who made her weak in the knees and also demonstrated enduring strength. Ruby pushed a hand against her chest as memories of Charlie drifted through her thoughts. Gerald might be the epitome of steadfastness, but he couldn’t offer her guarantees about the future. She wouldn’t survive losing love a second time.
Abby stirred under the covers, murmuring in her sleep.
Ruby gazed at the picture of the tree, an idea tickling in the back of her mind. She set the book to one side and drew out a sheet of stationery and a pencil. For a moment, she touched the writing instrument to her chin, staring at the white page and letting her imagination run wild.
She lowered the lead to the paper and sketched out a basic form of a wedding gown with simple, long lines. She added flowing sleeves dropping to a point well below the figure’s hands. Imagination drove her fingers—vines winding around the waist and lifting leaves up over the bodice, clusters of grapes peeking out from under the foliage. Her heart skipped. The petticoat could be done in lace—tatted with a leaf design. She’d leave an open front panel so the underskirt would show through, emphasizing Abby’s lovely figure.
Ruby paused, holding the drawing at arm’s length and admiring it. The first rays of dawn filtered in the window, as if radiating its approval.
* * *
Gerald flipped the book’s page, grimacing at a graphic description of the war-torn scene, thankful he’d never been forced to serve on a battlefield. The surgeon in the story, stymied by the lack of medicines and tools, too frequently resorted to the bone saw. A cold sweat washed over Gerald, remembering an amputation he’d performed in the chaos following the earthquake. His hand trembled, eyes no longer able to focus on the words. He’d never seen the patient again, didn’t know whether he’d lived or died. With a grunt, Gerald tossed the book to the bedspread and wiped the perspiration from his forehead.
He glanced at the window, the growing light a relief. He climbed from bed and dressed quickly. Hurrying down the steps, he greeted his mother and Clara in the kitchen, the heady smells of breakfast tempting his stomach.
His mother smiled, patting his arm. “We have hardly seen you in days, Gerald. I hope you can sit and visit with the family this morning—Robert and Herman are already in the dining room.”
He paused, enticed by the platter of fried eggs and shoestring potatoes. “Actually, I planned to sneak one of your donuts and dash over to the hospital. I need to get an early start.”
Clara frowned. “Honestly, Gerald. I don’t know how you stay in such good health always eating on the run like you do. It can’t be beneficial for your digestion.”
His mother’s eyes narrowed. “Of course it isn’t.” She handed him the serving dish and jerked her chin toward the dining room. “Now go sit down, Gerald. Clara and Herman are leaving for San Jose tomorrow. We need to enjoy their company while we can.”
A cloud settled over him as he frowned at the womenfolk cluttering his kitchen. Whose house was this, anyway? Shouldn’t a man be allowed to eat as he chose? He stared at his mother’s back searching for an appropriate reply, but the tidy bow on her apron rendered no clues.
Footsteps on the rear stairs drew his attention.
Ruby descended into the room, a light dancing in her blue eyes.
Gerald’s mind went blank, all words vanishing. A wave of warmth rushed over him as he felt again the touch of her head against his shoulder from the evening in the garden. He’d had trouble forgetting the sensation.
She blushed, as if able to read his thoughts. “Good morning.” She hurried to join the other women. “I’m afraid I overslept. What can I do to help?”
Gerald swallowed. Before he could clear his mind, his imagination latched onto the image of Ruby’s red hair spilling over a pillow.
“Gerald.” His mother pursed her lips. “The tray?”
He glanced down to the forgotten food. “Oh, yes.” He turned, momentarily at a loss as to where the dining room lay. Fortunately, his feet remembered.
Robert nodded at Gerald as he entered. “You look well this morning. And it appears you’ve been put to work.”
Herman lowered the newspaper until his bushy chin came into view.
Gerald set the platter on the table. “I informed the ladies I needed to get straight to the hospital, but apparently I’ve been overruled.”
Robert chuckled. “There’s no need, anyhow. Dr. Lawrence is covering for us today. Or have you forgotten?”
Sinking into a chair, Gerald scowled. “I don’t want Lawrence tampering with my work.”
His partner leaned forward. “We agreed, yesterday. We’re taking Abby and Ruby out driving.”
Gerald’s stomach sank. “No—did I say that?”
Robert grinned. “You did. An afternoon diversion.”
“I didn’t mean today. I just meant—”
“Driving? Today?” Ruby stood in the doorway, clutching a plate heaped with biscuits. Her face paled.
Robert nodded. “We all need a rest. And I should get my country girl out to the fresh air before she rethinks accepting my proposal and follows her family back to the farm.”
“I’m not rethinking anything, silly.” Abby stepped into the room with a laugh. “But a day out sounds heavenly. Let’s do it. Please, Ruby.”
“Gerald, I spoke to Lawrence before leaving last night. You don’t need to return until the board meeting Monday morning.” Robert adjusted his tie, pulling at the stiff collar. “I’ll cover rounds this evening. I’m growing accustomed to the night shift, anyway.”
Gerald leaned back against the chair. “The board meeting. I’d forgotten.” Too many distractions lately.
Ruby placed the biscuits by his plate, the warm fragrance filling the air. “If you need to prepare—”
“No.” Robert lifted his hand. “He’s already prepared. The notes have sat on his desk for a week. He’s not weaseling out of this, Ruby.”
A burning sensation tickled at Gerald’s throat. As Ruby took the seat across from him, he softened. Why fight it? A day out with Ruby would be the perfect diversion. Just because she’d refused him didn’t mean he couldn’t admire her from afar. His heart refused to be diverted no matter his best effort. He reached for the newspaper Herman had set aside.
Abby pulled a piece of stationery from her pocket. “Ruby, did you draw this?”
A shy smile graced the young widow’s face. “It depends. Do you like it?”
Abby sank into the chair beside Gerald, her brown eyes round. “I adore it. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
Ruby clasped her hands together. “I’m so glad. I was thinking about your gown last night and it came to me—you need something that speaks of your heart.”
Robert craned his neck. “Do we get to see this amazing Ruby original?”
Abby returned the drawing to her pocket. “Of course not. The menfolk cannot view the gown before the wedding.”
Robert unfolded his napkin. “It’s not a gown, it’s a sketch.” He glanced at Gerald. “Help me out.”
As Mother and Clara joined them, Gerald shook his head. “Don’t look to me for assistance, Robert. I don’t make any decisions around here. But your sister has a gift for beauty . . .” he paused, his mouth dry, “. . . for style. I mean style. So, I would—I would trust her.”
Ruby’s eyes widened as his words came to a stumbling halt.
Gerald hoisted the newspaper in front of his face, locking his gaze on the headlines. I need coffee before I say anything more ridiculous.
The hush lasted until Herman cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should ask the blessing, ja?”
Folding the paper in his lap, Gerald glanced at Ruby, trying to read her expression before she bowed her head. What is she thinking? Her brother might know. Gerald’s gaze shifted across the table.
Robert stared back, brows drawn low over his dark eyes.
Gerald ducked his head to join the prayer. He owed Robert a confession, but a little heavenly supplication might clear the path. Considering the expression on his friend’s face, Gerald would need all the help he could muster.
25
Ruby clutched the steering wheel with one hand, the other on the gearshift. The car trundled along the dirt lane no faster than a lame mule. “There’s a curve up ahead.”
Gerald chuckled. “You know what to do.”
“Panic?”
“Turn the wheel gently in the direction you want to go. You act as if you haven’t done this before.”
“Should I slow down?” Ruby darted a quick look at her instructor, thankful Robert and Abby had stayed behind in the meadow. She didn’t need the humiliation of an audience. Obviously, she was a slow learner.
He grinned. “If you slacken the pace any further, we’ll stop.”
Ruby faced forward, her elbows jutting to each side like a tightrope walker gripping a balance pole. “How do I know what’s beyond the bend?”
“We never do. You’re doing fine.”
The car motored around the curve, a flock of sparrows rising from the dust and chattering in protest. Ruby relaxed, the tension easing from her arms and shoulders. “Not too bad.”
“And a straight path before you.” Gerald leaned back in the seat and braced one foot up on the rail. “Mrs. Ruby Marshall, lady motorist.”
Ruby allowed a small smile to creep to her lips. “If only my sister Elizabeth could see me now. She’s the forward-thinking one of the family—a suffragist.”
“She’ll be here in November, or so Robert tells me.”
Ruby loosened her grip on the wooden circle. “I can’t imagine what your house will be like with three extra women underfoot.”
Gerald shrugged his shoulders. “What’s a few more? We’ll shuffle the bedrooms again. Robert is moving into the room Abby’s parents were using. I’ll bunk in the study, perhaps. Your sister and cousin can share my room, and we’ll place your mother with mine.” He winked. “Could be interesting.”
Ruby eyed the hill looming ahead. “And after the ceremony?”
“I imagine Robert and Abby will plan a wedding trip.” He tipped his derby back along his head. “We’ll readjust when they return. I suppose the newlyweds can have my room, and I can take the small spare room. Assuming the guests have departed by then.”
Ruby sighed. “It seems a shame to push you out of your bedroom—you own the house, after all.”
“Next thing you know, I’ll be sleeping under the grape arbor.”
“I should begin looking for my own place.” She glanced at the controls.
He turned to her, brows ruffled. “I didn’t mean that.”
“No one expects you to house your partner’s sister forever.”
“You’re much more than that.” His fingers brushed her knee.
The sensation jolted through her like electricity. “I—I know. Hence the difficulty.” The auto slowed as it climbed the steep grade. Ruby opened the throttle further to compensate.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Ruby chewed on her lower lip, fighting to concentrate on the vehicle’s speed. “It isn’t proper for us to continue sharing a home when we’re both unmarried.” A wave of heat climbed her neck.
He scooted closer along the seat. “Tell it to Robert and Abby.”
She shot him a dirty look. “I have. But at least they’re rectifying the situation.”
His eyes widened.
Ruby’s stomach churned. She shouldn’t have said such a thing—it implied far more than she intended. The engine sputtered, the pace falling off. She frowned. “What’s happening?”
He braced a hand against the seat. “Give it more gasoline.”
“I am.” She pressed hard against the pedal. The engine wheezed and fell silent. The car rolled to a standstill on the steep incline before easing backward. “No!”
“Brake!” Gerald jerked forward, gesturing to the controls. “Use the brake!”
After a moment of indecision, she pressed her boot down on the pedal, halting their descent. “Why did the motor stop?”
“It’s gravity. Sometimes on steep hills the engine starves for fuel.”
She clutched the wheel, her foot still jamming the pedal to the floor. “What do we do?”
“Back down the road, turn around, and take the hill in reverse.”
“Back down—reverse up? Are you jesting?”
“Would you rather I take over?”
Ruby gritted her teeth. “I’d rather walk.” As Gerald moved to get out, she grasped his arm. “No. I’ll do it.” She blew out a long, shaky breath. “Horses don’t have to back up steep inclines.”
Gerald chuckled. “Good luck getting one to try.”
She pursed her lips. “San Francisco is all hills. Why does this never happen to you?”
He leaned against the seat, hooking an elbow across the back. “It did at first. I learned to keep the tank full. But it was a long drive out here. I brought an extra gas can, but it’s in the meadow with our other things. I didn’t think we’d need it until the return trip. Now, ease off the brake.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Sure. Roll down a hill backward. Why not?”
Gerald chuckled. “There’s your sense of adventure. It’ll be fun.”
The vehicle crept backward, the brakes squealing like a snared rabbit. Keeping her chin on her right shoulder, she gazed behind them, thankful for quiet, country roads. What if this had happened in town?
“Ease off the brake a little more. Let’s not wear them out.”
Ruby did as she was told, jerking the wheel side to side as she acclimated to the reverse steering. The tires zigzagged, jostling over the rutted dirt path.
“Steady now.” He added his hand to the wheel, on top of hers.
The car rolled to a stop at the bottom of the hill. She faced forward. “Thank God.”
“Yes, indeed. And you did pretty well yourself.” He released the steering and grinned.
Ruby couldn’t help but smile. “I did, didn’t I? I kept it under control.”
“Certainly. Unfortunately, it’s only half the battle. Do you want to take it up?” He jerked a thumb toward the waiting grade.
No, not really. She straightened the scarf she’d tied over her hat. “What do I do?”
Gerald guided her through the motions of turning the Ford around and lining up with the back bumper to the hill. “Now pull forward a ways, you’ll need momentum. You don’t want to start climbing from a standstill.”
“I don’t wish to start at all, but whatever you say, Doctor.” Ruby ignored
his chortling as she revved the motor and depressed the Ford’s reverse pedal. The automobile crept backward.
He frowned. “You’ll need more velocity, or we’ll just sail down again.”
Ruby moistened her lips. She didn’t like driving fast in the forward direction. Now he wanted her to speed in reverse? And uphill? She pressed on the throttle. The breeze whipped the ends of her scarf across the rail as they careened up the road. After a few yards, the pace slowed and no matter how hard she pushed the pedal, the car crept along. She clutched the controls. “Come on, sweetie. You can do it.”
Gerald leaned against the seat, an insufferable smirk on his face as the automobile teetered to a halt. “I warned you, you need more forward momentum.”
“Don’t you mean backward momentum?” She brushed the gauzy fabric back into place and eased down the hill a second time, almost relieved to be facing forward, though traveling the wrong direction.
“Had enough?”
“Absolutely not.” Steam built in Ruby’s chest. She would get this automobile up this rise, even if she were forced to hop out and push. She rolled farther along the flat ground to allow for a better run and raced the motor. Bracing one arm over the seat, she half-turned and glared at her earthen nemesis. “We will ascend the mountain or perish in the attempt.”
Gerald laughed. “I hope we have some fuel left when you’re finished conquering the topography.”
Ruby set her jaw and jammed the automobile into gear. The car lurched, gravel scattering in all directions. The Ford surged up the incline as she kept a stranglehold on the wheel. Though the pace diminished as the engine struggled, this time the vehicle reached the top. She stopped at the summit and grinned. “I did it. I backed up a hill.”
“And what a view.” Gerald gazed across the valley. “Was it worth the effort?”
She stared out at the scenery, heart taking flight. The green hills dotted with farms and meadows stole her imagination. “It’s lovely.”
Beyond the Ashes Page 17
