[Dakotah Treasures 01] - Ruby

by Lauraine Snelling

“I mean it, Rand, you get someone to rope her or . . .” The brander shook his head.

  “You got to give her credit for protecting her baby.”

  “Credit or no, she hooks me with those horns, and I swear . . .”

  “Good enough.” Rand waved at two of the riders. “You two each put a rope on her and hold her back. Rod here is tired of our laughing at his expense. Can’t understand why.”

  They finally got that calf branded, and Rod ended up the butt of the jokes for a good part of the day, much to his disgruntlement, but when Chaps rode in with his cattle, the men turned to ribbing him about being hoodwinked and tied to a tree.

  At the end of the second day, when they let the last calf go, Rand and the others totaled up the tally. Double H had 234 head, Triple Seven had fifty, and the Ox Ranch, twenty.

  “How many cows you had last year?” a rancher from the Ox asked.

  “Two hundred, so I’m pretty close. When you want to start at your place? I can send Chaps and Joe on to help you round up.”

  They settled on the days, and Rand watched the men ride out. He might be the smallest rancher in the area, but since better than half his calves were heifers, one hundred sixty to be exact, in two more years he’d have a pretty good herd. That Hereford bull would be a help there. Soon as branding was done, he’d head east to pick him up.

  “God willing and the creek don’t rise.”

  “What’s that you say?” Beans asked.

  “Nothing, just asking for help keeping things on even keel here.”

  “Hope someone’s listenin’.”

  “Me too.”

  “Hey, Rand, you playing tonight?” Captain McHenry called as Rand rode into the cantonment.

  “Yep. That’s why I came in.” Rand remained in the saddle. “Can I bunk here after?”

  “You bet. So you’re not planning to stay at Dove House?”

  “It just don’t feel right. Know what I mean?”

  “I think I do. Come on in. The coffee’s hot.”

  Rand dismounted and dropped Buck’s reins, ground-tying him as he’d been trained. He followed the officer into a large room, complete with stove where a gray graniteware coffeepot held residence during all but the hottest months of the summer. The room really didn’t need the extra heat in May.

  McHenry poured two cups of prop-up-a-spoon coffee and handed one to Rand. “It’s cooler out back.”

  Once he sat in a chair overlooking the northern buttes, Rand propped his boots on the tabletop like the captain, and both rocked their chairs on the back two legs.

  “Why’d she have to go mess with things?”

  “Come on, Harrison, how could a genteel young lady like Miss Torvald tolerate what was going on there? According to Belle, she had no idea what was what. Belle near to busted her corset laughing when she explained the facts of life in Little Misery to her. At least life as it was at Dove House.”

  “You mean Per never told her anything?”

  “Nope, just asked her to come west for her inheritance—and to bring her little sister, the daughter Per had never seen since the day of her birth.”

  “What kind of man would do such a thing to his daughters?” Rand took a sip from his coffee, “And here I always thought he was a pretty good man, even though he ran a brothel. I mean, it seems like the girls chose to live there.”

  “Unless, of course, they had nowhere else to go. Or they owed him money.”

  “I thought Belle owned part of it.”

  “She thought so too, or at least she believed, if something happened to him, the place would be hers. Quite a shock when the Misses Torvald showed up one snow-spittin’ night.”

  “I saw them on the train, you know.”

  “Really?”

  “The little one got in trouble with some fella, and while I think Miss Torvald was winning, I stepped in and made sure. She’s got a tongue on her that could fry eggs, but she’s so genteel they wouldn’t know they were cooked.”

  “So what else has been going on?” Captain McHenry drank from his cup.

  “Done branding but for Ox Ranch. Goin’ up there tomorrow. The boys already riding range for them. They got ten times more cows than I do.”

  “You read that the Apache left the reservation again down in Arizona Territory?”

  “Haven’t read a newspaper in months. What are they going to do?”

  “Send the army after them. More bloodshed. Can’t have the Indians burning and pillaging white ranchers and farmers.”

  “I know, even if the government has taken over Apache land. Sure glad our Indians are under control.”

  “They won’t be if the U.S. Government doesn’t live up to its word to send supplies. Can’t let the poor souls starve to death. You and I’d go to war to feed our families too.”

  “You heading down there?”

  “I go where they send me, but right now I’d just as soon stay here.” And take the Misses Torvald riding and fishing again. He sipped his now tepid coffee and stared up at the buttes. Talk about a charmer, that Opal, and someone worth getting to know, Miss Ruby Torvald. First woman he’d been around in a long time that could possibly be considered as marriageable for a man in his position. At times he’d even thought of going back home to Ohio to see if he could find someone. He didn’t want to end up like some of his old-timers, talking about the war, reliving former glory, and never having a wife and children.

  The latest letter from his sister had reminded him, not for the first time, that as the only son, he needed to get himself a family, or the McHenry name would fade away.

  Interesting how he and Harrison had resolved their views on the war with a silent agreement to disagree or else skirt around the issue, as they did the Indian question. They both loved this awesome land, all the flora and fauna, a good horse, and giving each other a bad time.

  “You had supper yet?”

  “No, just rode into town.”

  “Good, let’s go on over to Dove House to eat and then join Belle in the cardroom. I’m feeling right lucky for a change.” Captain McHenry tossed the dregs of his coffee out onto the dirt. “Give you a gander at all Miss Torvald’s done. Good food, that’s for sure.”

  Rand followed suit and led his horse over to the livery on the way to Dove House.

  Before he reached the front steps, he could tell that someone had been at work on Dove House. Windows sparkled, the porch was clean, and an old bucket had been given new life as a pot for some pink flowers. The brass doorknob shone.

  He glanced toward the captain, who nodded. “See. I told you.”

  A bell over the door announced their entrance, and Miss Torvald came through the swinging door, a smile of welcome lighting her face.

  Jeremiah McHenry felt the now familiar kick in the gut. It happened every time he saw her.

  “Good evening, Captain.” The sound of her voice upped the ante. When could he take her riding again? What else could they do? He was sure she didn’t play cards.

  Rand removed his hat. “Good evening, Miss Torvald.”

  She nodded a bit abruptly and shifted her gaze back to the captain. “Where would you like to sit?”

  “Anywhere is fine.” All ten tables sported gleaming white cloths and napkins, as if it were a fine establishment in any major city. But here it was in Little Missouri, a place with a decided lack of appreciation for anything of quality. Ah, Miss Torvald, I fear you have embarked on an enterprise of certain failure. The two men set their hats on two chairs and sat down on the others.

  “Tonight we are serving venison roast with potatoes and gravy, green beans, fresh rolls—”

  “It’s worth coming here just for the rolls.” The captain smiled up at Ruby, but his comment was for Rand.

  “Thank you, sir. Can I bring you coffee to start?”

  “Fine.”

  When she left, McHenry leaned forward, his elbows on the table, fingers steepled. “When you goin’ east for your bull?”

  “Soon as branding is d
one. We had an old cow the other day that did her best to keep us from branding her calf.” He told the captain the story, and it set them both laughing. “You ought to come on out, get your hands dirty for a change.”

  Jeremiah held out his hand, palm up, then rolled it over.

  “Pushing a pencil doesn’t give one too many calluses, that’s for sure. You should have invited me when I was by your ranch.”

  “Didn’t think of it. Coulda used another hand, though. I found Chaps tied to a tree after his horse came home without him. Some varmint knocked him out and stole his horse. But the horse didn’t take kindly to his new rider, so it dumped him and headed back to the ranch, stirrups flapping. Thought sure I’d lost a man, but we found him, madder than a shot-up grizzly.” Rand glanced around the dining room. “Sure fire different in here now. Too quiet.”

  “You want noise and a fight or two, stop off at Williams’ saloon. That’s where the excitement is these days.”

  “If you don’t mind gettin’ poisoned.”

  “Here’s your supper, Captain, Mr. Harrison.” Daisy set their plates in front of them. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, thanks.” McHenry glanced to Rand, who shook his head.

  When she left, Rand leaned forward. “Where did she come from? She looks familiar.”

  “I asked Belle. She said that’s Jasmine.”

  “Jasmine! You’ve got to be kidding. Jasmine as a shy waitress?” Rand let out a snort. “If that’s Jasmine, where’s Cimarron?”

  “No idea, but then I’ve not been invited back to the kitchen.”

  “Cimarron would be pretty hard to hide. You think she left town?”

  “Ask Belle.”

  So Rand did later in the cardroom where Belle was dealing. A couple of the other officers from the cantonment had joined them, along with Johnny Nelson, the Swede and owner of the town store.

  Belle leaned close to Rand and McHenry. “Cimarron is still here but stays in the back so folks can forget what she was. Can you picture Cimarron as a seamstress? You ask me, a leopard can’t change his spots, and the same goes for a dove.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that if I were you. Looks to me like there are a lot of changes here.”

  “Ain’t goin’ to last. You saw how many came to the dining room for supper.” She shook her head and blew cigar smoke out of the side of her mouth. “Little Misery ain’t ready for the likes of this. Let her run out of money, and someone else will buy her out.”

  “You got an idea who that someone might be?” The captain studied his cards.

  “I’ll never tell.” Belle gave him a long slow smile.

  Two hours later and two dollars lighter, Rand pushed back his chair. “You were right, McHenry, Lady Luck was shining on you tonight.”

  “Surely you’re not quitting already?”

  “Sometimes quitting is the wisest move. I haven’t had a decent hand all night. Belle, what you got against me?”

  “You ain’t played for so long, you lost your touch, that’s all.” She glanced around the table. “ Another round, boys?”

  “Naw, you and the captain cleaned us all out. You two in cahoots or something?”

  “Just poor losers, eh, Belle?” Jeremiah McHenry pushed back his chair and paused halfway standing. “That gunfire I hear?”

  “Most likely at the saloon.” Belle gathered her cards back into her hand. “Happens near to every night, you know.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “I got me an idea.”

  Ruby stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. “What is it now, Charlie?”

  “I think it’s time you got out to meet the neighbors.”

  Ruby shuddered. “I met some of them, remember? That night we came to town, they slammed their doors in our faces. And I’ve watched you throw some of the men right out into the street.” All that really makes me want to get to know the folks around here personally. Yet if I don’t, I’ll never get their business. And if there is a conspiracy, how better to overcome it than to try to make some friends?

  So go bearing gifts. She felt like clapping both hands to her head to retain her sanity.

  “Why do I get the feeling that you have something all planned and you are just now getting around to informing me about it?”

  If innocence had a face, it was Charlie’s.

  “I thought to make up some cakes or perhaps some sweet rolls and we could put them in a basket or two and go calling.”

  “Isn’t that what people who already live here are supposed to do to welcome new arrivals?”

  He cleared his throat. “You got to admit circumstances here aren’t what one would call normal or polite society.”

  “Charlie, don’t try to sweet-talk me, just lay it all out there.”

  “I did. Simple as this—go calling on the townsfolk.”

  “What about some of the surrounding ranches?” Her mind seemed to be more agreeable to this plan than her heart.

  “We could do that too, now that you can ride some. Although we could take a wagon out to the Double H and the Robert-sons’.”

  “The Double H? That’s Mr. Harrison’s place.”

  “Rand Harrison, yes. He don’t like to be called mister.”

  That’s not all he doesn’t like.

  “Ruby, guess what?” As usual Opal blew in through the back door as if she rode a big wind.

  “What?”

  “I found that mean old hen. She hid away underneath the nest boxes. Milly said not to disturb her now because she’s been sitting on those eggs for a while.We’re going to have baby chickens.”

  “You call ’em chicks.” Milly closed the door carefully behind her. She set her basket of eggs down on the counter. “I thought maybe something got her, but there she was, proud as you please and meaner’n ever.” She held out a hand with spotted dots of blood.

  “And here I thought I might get her in the stewpot any day now.”

  “Charlie!”

  He raised his hands, palms out. “So that’s what happens to chickens that don’t lay eggs. You can’t feed ’em forever.”

  “It’s bad enough we have to eat wild animals that have been shot, but ones we know?” Ruby could feel her stomach churn.

  Cimarron and Milly both rolled their eyes. “Welcome to the West.” Cimarron stuck her needle into a pincushion and stood to stretch. “If you’d loan me a gun, Charlie, I could go out tonight and get us some grouse. A man said he was shooting them right out of the trees. Said if you shoot ’em in the head so they fall instead of fly, the rest just stay right there, waiting to be picked off. He’s been shipping them on the train to eastern restaurants.”

  “You can shoot that well?” Ruby knew staring wasn’t polite, but this was a shock.

  “Might take a bit of practice, but I can get enough to feed us.”

  “Can I go along? I’d go pick them up for you.” Opal looked from Cimarron to Ruby and then checked with Charlie. Ruby shook her head, Charlie nodded, and Cimarron clapped a hand on Opal’s shoulder. “You sure can. We’ll make a right good team.”

  “How come you know how to shoot?” Opal’s face radiated hero worship.

  “My brothers taught me. When you live on the frontier, you learn to do all kinds of things city folk don’t need. You just do what you have to do to stay alive.”

  “Can you teach me?”

  “Sometime, maybe.” She looked over Opal’s head to Ruby, looking for permission. When Ruby only frowned, Cimarron continued. “Well, maybe we’ll wait till you’re a bit older.”

  Later that morning, not long after the eastbound train left town, two men walked in the front door and stopped at the counter.

  “May I help you?” Ruby came through the door from the kitchen in response to the bell.

  “I’d like a drink.”

  “I’m sorry, but we no longer serve liquor here. We have rooms and meals. Dinner will be in another two hours. We serve promptly at noon.”

  “Where’s Belle and the girl
s?” asked the other.

  “As I said, we have rooms to rent and meals. Would you like to register? Belle deals in the cardroom after supper.” How many times do I have to repeat myself before you understand?

  “And who might you be? Where’s Per?”

  “I am his daughter. He died and deeded Dove House to me and my sister.”

  “Now, ain’t that a joke.” One man slapped the other on the shoulder. He turned back to Ruby. “So what about the other places in town? Any of them offer . . . ah . . . you know . . .”

  “No, I don’t know.”

  One of the men leered at her, leaning slightly closer. The now familiar heat bloomed in her face. She bit back the words she really wanted to say and kept her voice even. She knew she could call Charlie, but if she was indeed the proprietress of Dove House, she needed to learn how to handle all kinds of customers, even cantankerous ones. “If you want rotgut whiskey, you go to Williams’ saloon. Mrs. McGeeney serves meals. Good day, gentlemen.” She made as if to leave, wishing she’d not bothered to call them gentlemen, for they certainly weren’t. However, her mother had not allowed such names as would fit them more precisely to be spoken in her home. And Ruby did her best to follow her example.

  “Now, missy, don’t be in such a hurry. We’ll stay here tonight. How much is it?”

  Missy. “That will be two dollars per room.” She was glad she’d taken down the sign that listed prices. She’d decided it looked less than genteel. If they were going to have these men as guests, and she used the term loosely, they’d pay extra. “Please sign here and include your home address. Room charges must be paid in advance.”

  They did as she instructed, paid their money, and lifted their carpetbags.

  “I’ll show you to your rooms.” She led the way up the stairway, feeling their lascivious thoughts with every movement of her hips. You could still call for Charlie. No, you can’t. Charlie’s busy, and I have to learn to handle situations like this. We are still reaping what my father sowed. The thought was no more pleasing than the two men behind her. She opened two doors, one on each side of the hall, and handed them their keys.