[Dakotah Treasures 01] - Ruby

by Lauraine Snelling

  I will shelter you under my wings. Come. I will hold you in the palm of my hand. Come.

  A knock came at the door. “Ruby, are you in there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “No.” Opal, I cannot deal with even you right now.

  “Ruby, please.”

  “Oh.” Ruby growled to herself, started to say no again and instead went to the door. “Opal, I just need to be alone for a while. You needn’t worry about me, all right?”

  “Can I bring you some supper?”

  “No.”

  “Cimarron came down for supper.”

  “Oh. Good. I’ll be down later.”

  “Promise?”

  “Opal, I said I would.” Ruby resumed her pacing, listening for the voice again. All she heard was the rain against the windows. “I don’t deserve to come to you. I’ve managed to wound nearly everyone here. And the way I flew at Mr. Harrison. He’d done nothing wrong.”

  I love you.

  “I don’t deserve it.”

  You are mine. I have redeemed you.

  A knock at the door sometime later brought her up short. She’d promised Opal she’d go down, and even without a clock, she knew a long time had passed.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Daisy and Milly. Can we come sit with you?We promise not to say anything.”

  Ruby rubbed her eyes that had leaked and dried so often they felt like grit from a sandstorm had taken up residence. Along with a raging thirst.

  “You may come in.” They filed in and sat down on the floor by the wall.

  “Where’s Opal?”

  “Gone to bed.” Milly waited before answering, looking to Ruby until she received a nod.

  “Already?” I broke a promise to Opal. Can’t I do anything right?

  “Yes, she was sad,” Daisy answered.

  “And crying,” Milly added, just in time to receive a poke in the ribs from Daisy.

  “I am so thirsty.” Ruby could hardly clear her throat.

  “I’ll be right back.” Milly rose and scampered out the door, leaving Daisy to sit quietly.

  “What are you doing?” Ruby stopped from her pacing.

  “Praying.”

  “Praying? For what?”

  “For you and for Cimarron and Belle.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” The young woman sat so quietly that Ruby grew uncomfortable pacing and perched on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m not sure I believe in praying anymore.” The words scratched her throat. The thoughts did the same for her mind. And yet you spoke to me. I know it was you. So you are there. Why do I doubt so? I used to believe.

  “You said I should read the Bible because it is God’s word letting us know how much He loves us.” Daisy moved slightly so she could look Ruby in the face. “You said that, and I believed you.”

  Ruby thought all her tears had dried up, but she was mistaken. They surged again at Daisy’s simple words of faith.

  Milly came through the door carrying a glass of water and handed it to Ruby. “Charlie said you should sleep in here.”

  “I can’t do that to Opal.”

  “I’ll go get her.” Milly started out the door but stopped. “And your nightdress.”

  Sleeping in a real bed with Opal lightly breathing beside her calmed Ruby, but still she woke often, plagued by nightmares and a thirst that wouldn’t be quenched. I give up, Lord. That thought burst into her mind even before she opened her eyes. I just give up. I don’t care what happens next. I give up.

  The next afternoon Cimarron came down after dinner and took up her sewing in the window as if she’d never been gone. Except that she neither smiled nor talked. Ruby and Daisy were chopping, cooking, and bottling the last of the garden vegetables for relish when Daisy asked a question.

  “Ruby, why have you stayed here?”

  Ruby paused in stirring. The starting reason of the inheritance or . . . She forced herself to say the real reason. “Because my father made me promise to take care of the girls. And Opal wouldn’t let me go back on a promise.”

  “Even when your father died?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you let us stay? Most women turn the other way.”

  “It started as the promise, but later it was because Dove House is my home and you became like my sisters. I never had sisters my own age. We were sisters all along, I just never realized it.” Ruby looked over at Cimarron. “But I failed in my promise to take care of you.”

  Cimarron looked up from her stitching. “You think this was your fault? What kind of crazy thinking is that? You don’t . . . you can’t rule the world no matter what kind of promises you make.”

  Ruby watched the relish bubble in the kettle. The scents of vinegar, mustard, celery seeds, and other spices floated around them, weaving them all together in spite of what had happened.

  “Milly is going to read now,” Opal announced. “She’s been practicing.”

  “Good,” Daisy said as she set the pan with clean jars ready for the relish on the stove.

  “Jesus is talking. ‘The blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear . . .’ You think He still does all that?”

  Ruby nodded. I was the blind one. Lord, you have indeed opened my eyes. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

  Cimarron snorted. “Well, if we’re looking for someone who was lame, I guess that’s me.”

  “But you don’t even limp anymore.” Opal glanced over her shoulder from where she was sitting, following the words over Milly’s shoulder.

  “See, what did I tell you.”

  “Cleansing the lepers is you and me both, Cimarron.” Daisy nodded. “We are free. Thanks to Ruby.”

  “I memorized another verse.” Milly kept her finger on the place she’d just read. She screwed up her face in the effort of remembering. “‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ I asked Opal what perish meant.”

  “Perish is to die,” Opal added with a complimentary nod to her pupil.

  “I won’t be free until those two brutes perish,” Cimarron muttered.

  Ah, but you are down here with us and you are talking. You’re on the way. Ruby dipped relish out of the kettle and poured it into the jars. Daisy wiped off the rims, placed the rubber rings that had been softened in hot water in place, then the glass lids, and set the wire bales over the top.

  “So that means God loves us all that much, right?” Daisy refused to let the subject go. “That’s pretty wonderful, you got to admit.” She looked around, waiting until everyone nodded. “So that means we are all going to heaven if we believe in Jesus.” She stopped for a moment. “I believe in Him, what about the rest of you?” She looked each one in the eyes until they nodded, then Daisy smiled. Frustration wrinkled her brow. “But what about Belle?”

  Ruby shrugged both inside and out. God, how come you make this so simple? Definitely not easy, but simple.

  “We’re going to eat better this winter than we ever have.” Daisy stood back to admire the jars of relish. “And think how much we have down in the cellar.”

  “Thanks to Charlie’s garden.”

  If only we can keep this place. We’re doing better, but I know the gambling must go. Lord, please help us find a way. Ruby slid the coffeepot closer to the heat, ignoring the question of Belle. “When we’re done here, we need to do some polishing in that dining room. Dust sure comes in this place.”

  They’d just passed out the cookies, and Opal had her coffee fixed with the perfect balance of milk and sugar, when Charlie came in the door.

  “Leave it to a man to arrive in time for a meal.” Daisy stood to pour another cup.

  “I just followed the aroma right on in.” Charlie reached for a cookie. “Anyone seen Belle?”

  “She don’t come in when Ruby’s here.” Opal dunked her cookie in her coffee. “She’s in her room.”<
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  Ruby stopped like she’d hit a vertical sheet of ice. I have to tell Belle I’m sorry. Oh, Lord, no. I cannot do that. You ask too much.

  Take care of my girls. She wasn’t sure which father was speaking. Per or her heavenly Father, not that it mattered much. She’d still made a promise. Only it wasn’t the girls now, but my girls. Definitely heavenly Father.

  She met Belle coming down the stairs into the dining room. Belle looked the other way until Ruby touched her arm.

  “I’m sorry, Belle.” Ruby choked out the words. “P-please forgive m-me?”

  Belle nodded. “We all was crazed there for a bit. But we’re better now.” She patted Ruby’s arm as she swished on by.

  Ruby stopped as a feeling of lightness almost made her float away. Was it dizzy she felt? No. Something far greater. “I’m free,” she whispered. To think I doubted when God heard and answered so clearly. A mighty crash turned her so fast that she teetered, nearly tumbling down the stairway before she clamped her hand on the stair rail and righted herself.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Opal’s cry ripped through her sister. How often she’d heard that cry—the very same words— but not for a long time, a lifetime perhaps.

  Cigars, some broken leaving bits of tobacco leaves scattered about, littered the floor along with pieces of the shiny box that always sat on the bar.

  Opal’s whisper filled the room. “There’s money.”

  Ruby stopped at the edge of the circle of open-mouthed people and surveyed the wreckage of the box. The box that had been sitting right on the bar all along. The box she polished so carefully because it was a beautiful work of art. She focused on a stack of bills tied together with string. A note tucked under the string caught her eye when she picked up the packet. She pulled the paper out and unfolded it. The silence in the room held everyone still.

  Ruby read. “‘For my treasures. Far.”’ She laid the bills on the surface and counted them, flipping the corners with one finger. “Five hundred dollars.” I can pay off the bank, or nearly. We are saved. Dove House is indeed ours.

  “That money’s no good.” Charlie checked the stack more closely and slowly shook his head.

  “What’s no good?”

  “The money. It’s Confederate. Not worth the paper it’s printed on. Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings.”

  I should have known. In one hand, out the other. Ruby sighed. “Oh well.”

  “Look here.” Opal held a small package in her hand. “This was in there too.” She unfolded the corners and folds of cloth that Ruby recognized as one of their mother’s cutwork lawn handkerchiefs with a fine picot edging. Her mother always kept one tucked in her sleeve.

  “Aren’t they pretty?” Opal held out the nest of two stones, a deep red one and the other creamy with glimmers of many colors.

  “That’s a ruby,” Charlie said. “Per won that years ago. I thought he lost it gambling, but I guess not. The cream is an opal, and those others are gold nuggets. Didn’t know he still had them. I cashed all mine in.”

  Opal held out her hand and Ruby took the bird’s nest of treasures. She touched each with a reverent finger. Gems for his treasures.

  “Per kept them all these years, even all the times when he needed money so desperately. And that flat little box must have been wedged right inside that big one.” Charlie shook his head real slow. “Who’d a thought it.”

  “The buksbom.” Ruby held out her hand so the others could see.

  “Guess Papá . . . er, Far loved us after all, huh, Ruby?”

  Ruby nodded. “I guess so.”

  Charlie leaned over and started picking up wood pieces. “I might be able to put this back together, not as good as it was, but usable.”

  Kind of like all of us, Ruby thought. Put back together and all usable. The Father’s treasures, all of us.