[Dakotah Treasures 01] - Ruby

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Is it dug up?”

  “No, but we’re going to spread chicken droppings on it before we dig it up.” Opal screwed up her face. “Won’t that make the vegetables taste terrible?”

  “No. You remember Mr. Klaus used to spread straw and such on the gardens at home. He’d buy a load of manure from a farmer who brought it to town.”

  Opal made a face.

  Ruby returned the grimace. “I just saw a mouse.”

  “Did you kill it?”

  “With what?”

  “Cook used to use a broom. She broke a teapot one day when she missed on a swing.” Opal acted out Mrs. Klaus flailing at a mouse. She came to Ruby’s side and looked out over the hills. “Sure is pretty here, don’t you think?”

  “More like a strange and terrible beauty.” Ruby knew she was quoting someone but had no idea whom.

  “Sure different than New York.”

  It was Ruby’s turn to nod. “That is the truth.”

  “Milly said Mrs. Fitzgerald and Mrs. McGeeney are the only married ladies in town, and they don’t even speak to each other. No one even knows why. Strange, huh?”

  “What other bits of interest has Milly poured in your oh-so-willing ears?”

  “Well, the army is housed in those buildings down the street. They call that the cantonment. Some of the soldiers are regulars at Dove House.”

  “Opal!”

  “Well, they come to play cards most nights. That’s what Milly said.” Opal stepped off to the side in case she needed some space to keep from getting her arm grabbed.

  “Most supplies come in on the train. There’s only a small store here, owned by someone named Johnny Nelson. Seems there ain’t much here . . . er, isn’t.”

  “Thank you.”

  They studied the landscape in silence. “We are going to stay, Ruby, aren’t we?”

  “We shall see. Where’s Milly?”

  Opal shrugged. “She said she had some mending to do. She takes care of those fancy dresses the girls wear. Wouldn’t you like a pretty dress like some of those Belle wears?”

  “Opal!”

  “Not clothes they wear in the saloon but like that beautiful aquamarine silk we saw hanging in the armoire. Blue always looks good on you.”

  “Well, right now I wish I had more serviceable skirts like my black wool. Clothes for cleaning is what we need. Most of our new things are too nice for that.” She turned and went back in the door. “You coming?”

  “I guess.”

  That night Ruby found herself turning and sighing, tossing and sighing again. The noise from downstairs made sleeping nigh on to impossible, but even after that all shut down, she couldn’t close off the thoughts chasing through her mind. If she could only take a broom to them like she should have taken it to that mouse. Finally she slipped out of bed and relit the lamp, carrying it over to the table where she had the ledgers spread out. Now all the entries made sense, horrible sense in her estimation. She stared at the notes and numbers until her eyes went out of focus and they all jumbled together.

  How could she take care of the girls without the saloon and the other business? She didn’t need to add all the figures to see how much the girls contributed to the coffers.

  “Do all to the glory of God.” The piece of a Bible verse floated through her mind. So what could Dove House become that would be to the glory of God? She removed her father’s letter—now permanently wrinkled from the many readings—from her pocket and reread it again. Hotel—that’s what he’d written. Dove House would make a fine hotel.

  “Good food and a clean place to sleep.” That’s what she would want. But these men out here on the frontier didn’t seem to care about a good bed. They’d rather have a place to drink and carouse around. So was playing cards wrong?

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Could the men play cards and drink coffee? Would they?

  She could feel the ideas coming together like butter in a churn.

  If they turned the saloon into a dining room, moved the card room off to the side, used the bar for checking in those who would rent the rooms—for sleeping only. The girls could be waitresses; she and Charlie could do the cooking. Ruby ignored the voice that said she’d never cooked a full meal in her life. Not to mention preparing three meals a day. Could Charlie cook that well? He seemed to know his way around the kitchen. And Milly seemed to know something of cooking too, and the cleaning.

  Where do we get the supplies?

  Off the train, of course, but where was a town big enough to provide what they would need? Charlie would know.

  Perhaps Belle would like to be in charge of the card room. She wrote down ideas as they came to her, filling up two pages of the ledger before she realized she was running out of both kerosene for the lamp and stamina for her eyes.

  “Don’t you ever sleep?” Ruby asked Charlie when she found him already downstairs after the rooster had crowed only once. Her many new ideas had awakened her after only an hour or two of sleep.

  “You look mighty perky this morning too.” He leaned back in his chair. “’Sides, I like the early mornin’. ’Specially now, when spring is here and summer on the way. Step outside, you can smell the world changing, coming alive again.”

  “Charlie, how good a cook are you?”

  He blinked at her, shrugged with one shoulder, and sucked through the slight gap between his front teeth. “Passable. Why?”

  “You must know that in order to remain here . . .” She sucked in a stiffening breath. “I cannot abide what is going on . . . with the girls, I mean. So I got to thinking, what if we turned Dove House into a good hotel and place of dining? We could have a cardroom for the men for now, but there would be no liquor.”

  “None?”

  She nodded as he shook his head.

  “They wouldn’t have to pay for the coffee.”

  “What would the girls do?”

  “Wait on the customers, serve the food, help with whatever was needed in the hotel. We could have more rooms to let if we used the attic for rooms for all of us who work here. There is an attic, isn’t there?”

  “Body could freeze to death up there in the winter.”

  He hadn’t said no, but he hadn’t said yes either.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you’ll lose your shirt. There’s no call for a eatin’ place. Mrs. McGeeney down the road offers that. The rooms we have ain’t ever full. And no spirits for drinkin’. . . ?” He kept shaking his head as he listed the reasons why it wouldn’t work. “Besides, if Belle can’t get her way here, she’ll take the others and open up a place of her own. She’s been thinkin’ hard on that.”

  “Oh.” Ruby sank down on the nearest chair and propped her elbows on the table so she could hold up her chin. All of a sudden the need for sleep nearly drowned her. She covered a yawn with one hand and used her tongue to rub her teeth. “How come it sounded like such an excellent idea in the wee hours of the night?”

  “Most anything can sound like a good idea at that time, even if you ain’t been drinkin’.”

  “If I decide to do this, would you help me? I’d pay you.” Not much, but we can work out something.

  Charlie shrugged. “Ain’t got nothin’ else beggin’ me to join in right now. Guess I would.”

  “What about the others?”

  “You’ll have to ask them.”

  “Or tell them?”

  “It’s gonna be a shock.” He rocked the chair back on two legs. “You give any thought to the men who come here all the time?”

  “They can play cards and drink all the coffee they can hold. And if they want to spend the night, the cost will be seventy-five cents, twenty-five cents more for a bath. And no bed partners unless they’re married.”

  She rose and went to the stove to put in more wood. “We got any black paint?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Any paint at all?”

  He shook his head again.

  “Do you thi
nk anyone in town has any?”

  “Maybe some over at Johnny Nelson’s store. Never know what he has in there.”

  “Good. Would you, please, check into that soon as you can? We need to make some signs. The first one will say Closed for Renovations.”

  “Renovations? What’s that?”

  Ruby sighed. “You think they can all understand Closed?”

  “Most likely, ’specially if the lights is off.”

  By the time the girls yawned their way downstairs, Ruby had Dove House trembling in the winds of change.

  “What is all that pounding goin’ on?” Belle raised her voice to be heard above the noise.

  “Charlie is building some shelves in the storeroom.” Ruby looked up from kneading another batch of bread, one of the few things she did know how to do in a kitchen.

  “Couldn’t he wait till we got our sleep? Just ’cause he don’t need enough to keep a gnat alive, I—”

  “Coffee’s hot.” Ruby flipped the dough over and began the pushing and turning rhythm once again.

  Cimarron stopped in the doorway. “Sure smells good in here. What are you fixing?”

  “There’s fried potatoes, bacon, eggs, biscuits, and jam.”

  “Lawsy me, and here I thought we’d be havin’ warmed up beans like usual.” She took her place at the table, and Opal dished up a plate and set it before her.

  “Thank you, honeybun, and with a smile no less. Things are lookin’ up here at Dove House.”

  “Soon as you’re finished eating, I have some things to discuss with you.” Ruby gave the dough a last good thump, rolled it into a ball to set back in the big crockery bowl, and covered it with a clean dish towel, thanks to the good bleaching it got after being washed and hung on the line in the sun.

  “Sun sure is bright this morning,” Jasmine said after drinking half a cup of coffee.

  “That’s because Milly washed the windows, and now you can see out of them.”

  “Where’d the curtains go?”

  “In the wash.”

  “Better be looking out, or we’ll all be in the wash.” Cimarron laughed at her own joke.

  “Cimarron, is that your real name?” Opal brought back the coffeepot and carefully filled each cup.

  “Yes, indeed. My mamma loved that song about the Cimarron Trail, and when I had kind of cinnamon colored hair, she just tacked that moniker right on to her bitty little baby girl.”

  “I think it’s pretty.”

  Cimarron set her cup back down on the table. “Why, thank you, honeybun. You know how to make a body feel real good.”

  When they’d nearly finished eating, Ruby nodded to Opal to go get Milly and Charlie, who were both working in the storeroom. When they all sat down, the women shared questioning looks between one another.

  “Looks to be serious.” Jasmine nudged Cimarron with her elbow.

  “All right, what’s going on here?” Belle dug out her morning’s cigarillo and set it into the holder before holding it out for Charlie to light. When she’d leaned back to blow out her first line of smoke and appeared to be relaxing, she looked to Charlie who shrugged and nodded to Ruby.

  Only the whisper of falling coals in the stove broke the silence. Ruby sent a prayer heavenward for guidance. She straightened her spine and plastered a smile on her face. “I’ve decided to close Dove House . . .”

  Hollers of shock drowned out her final words, “. . . as it is.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “You want me to what?”

  “Belle, we can discuss this without gettin’ all riled up.” Charlie got up to pour himself another cup of coffee before crossing the room to stare out the window.

  “I’ve seen the books, big man, and this place don’t have a chance in a million of making it without the workin’ girls. That’s what makes us different from the pigsty down the street.”

  “And our drinks don’t go killin’ people.” Cimarron studied her nails, then shook her head, staring at Ruby. “She’s right. I don’t see how you could make it.”

  “You gonna make for some real mad hombres out there. They been real happy comin’ here before they set out hunting or trying to build something or keeping the peace.” Jasmine propped her elbows on the table to hold her cup at mouth level.

  “Times are changin’ here. You got to keep that in mind.” Charlie lifted his bowler hat and smoothed his hair back before resetting it on his head.

  “I heard there are more easterners coming here for the hunting. They like to have a bed and a bath and good food. That’s what they’re used to.” Ruby kept from looking at Charlie, who’d been her informant.

  “They like our entertainment too.” Jasmine gave a knowing smile.

  “But they don’t go upstairs much, unless to their own rooms.” Milly spoke from the corner, and everyone jerked around to see who said that.

  “I s’pose you”—Belle pointed a finger at Milly—“are all jumped up about this change. You think you’re so much better than us just because—”

  “Belle!” Charlie nodded to where Opal was pushing open the door from outside.

  Belle had the grace to shut her mouth, which brought her up a notch, albeit a small one, in Ruby’s estimation. But perhaps it would be better if Belle left like Charlie figured she would. And if the others went, well, so be it. The four of them could manage for a while at least, until the folks who rode by on the trains knew about the new place in Little Missouri. Or rather, the newly refurbished place.

  “Well, we better get ready for work.” Belle started to stand.

  “There won’t be any work of the kind you are thinking, today or any day. The doors are closed, and we hung a sign that says so.”

  “You mean you’re startin’ right now?”

  “I thought I made that clear.”

  “Come on, girls. We need to talk. In my room.” Belle stared both Cimarron and Jasmine down so that they rose and, with an apologetic smile in Ruby’s direction, followed Belle from the room.

  Opal came to stand by Ruby. “They aren’t too happy, huh?”

  “No, they most certainly aren’t.” Ruby laid her arm across Opal’s shoulders. “Well, as Caesar or Alexander the Great or someone from way back said, ‘The die is cast.”’

  “What’s a die?”

  “I’m not sure, but it sounds good.” And if there is any turning back, it won’t be to the former—not if I have anything to say about it. If I only knew what was in the buksbom—if that is indeed what Far had said. What box was he referring to?

  “What do you want me to do?” Opal looked up at Ruby.

  “You can help me in the pantry. We’re going to scrub it from top to bottom. And after we finish the pantry, we’ll go put supplies up on the lovely shelves Charlie is building and finish scrubbing in the storage room. Charlie, we need to count up the stock of liquor, and then you can go ask the man down the street if he wants to purchase it. Cash only, but we’ll give him a fair deal. I need to know who my father dealt with at each of the places he did business so I can call on them in the next few days.”

  “You’d go to Dickinson? All by yourself?” The shock of her words nearly choked him.

  “Why not?”

  Charlie’s head swung like a pendulum. “They won’t do business with a itty bitty girl like you. Better if Belle went. No, that won’t work. Me, then. I done most of the buyin’ since your pa took sick.”

  They’ll learn to deal with me if I’m the owner here. Ruby kept her thoughts to herself and only nodded. “If Mr. Williams doesn’t want the liquor, you can return it when we go shopping in Dickinson.”

  “Beats his Forty Mile Red Eye, that’s for sure.” When he saw the confusion on her face, Charlie added, “That’s his own brand. Makes it himself out of sulphuric acid, cigar butts, bad gin, and worse rum.” Charlie shuddered. “ ’Bout takes off the top of your head if it don’t blow out your belly.”

  “Is that what they call ‘white lightning’? I read about that somewhere.”
>
  “Na-a-a. They make white lightning down in the south, out in stills in the woods.” Charlie slapped his leg. “Men can make alcohol outa just about anything if’n they got a mind to. Why I heard tell—”

  “Charlie . . .”

  “Oh, sorry.” He smiled his apology to Opal, who’d been staring at him with eyes round as the coffee cups.

  “Charlie sometimes exaggerates,” Milly informed them, at the same time casting a tolerant smile his way.

  “Not this time. Best get back to my shelves. Maybe tonight we can sit down and make me up some kind of shopping list, eh?”

  Ruby tied a cloth around her hair, shaved soap off a bar into a bucket, then poured boiling water over it. Broom, brush, and rags in hand, she motioned to Opal. “All right, let’s get started. Oh, you better tie something over your hair too. No telling what we might sweep down.”

  She popped back out of the pantry. “Charlie, could you bring me something to stand on, please?”

  Charlie brought a box and set it on the floor. “I think you better let Miss Opal climb up on the counter. She can reach the top shelf from there, lest you want me to do the tops?”

  “No. Shelves are needed in the storage room the most. And I can’t do that.” Unless I have to. Then I would learn. While she watched, Opal scrambled up from the box to the counter.

  “Hand me a washrag. I can’t see up there, but I can reach.” She took several tins out and handed them to Ruby.

  “You be careful now.”

  “I am.”

  The hammering started again in the storage room as Ruby set the tins on the opposite counter. She stepped back as dust and debris filtered down from Opal’s industrious scrubbing.

  “What’s in those?”

  “I’ll see.” Ruby wiped the dust off the lids and pried them open. “Raisins in this one and . . . pew. Rancid lard.” She set that one out in the kitchen to be emptied later.

  They’d finished the top shelf and started on the next when Opal let out a small shriek. Ruby looked up in time to see a mouse land on Opal’s shoulder. It jumped down to hers, from there to the floor, and then disappeared in the hole in the wall.