My Heart Belongs in Ruby City, Idaho

by Susanne Dietze

  Rebecca rolled over with a huff. If she kept thinking about her husband and husband-to-be, she’d never get to sleep.

  Tad sat up to darkness and a sense of unfamiliarity. The window was in the wrong place. His hip ached from the lumpy mattress. He blinked. It wasn’t Mrs. Horner’s mattress but the cot in the jail. He’d come here because he’d arrested Bowe, but he would have slept here anyway because the Tuesday stage brought Rebecca—

  The memory roused him like a splash of cold water. Rebecca. And Rebekah. A wife that wasn’t his and another who hadn’t come yet. Theodore in the middle of it all, and things between them still cold and ugly as winter slush.

  Tad abandoned the thin blanket and made up the cot in the dark. He fumbled for the matches and lit the kerosene lantern at his bedside so he could dress and wander over to the livery—his main source of income, and a responsibility he shared with his Pa. A quick check on the snoring Bowe assured him his prisoner was sleeping soundly, but he dare not leave for more than a minute without finding a watchman. He found one on his way to Mrs. Croft’s restaurant.

  “Jeroboam Jones, is that you?” He held up his lantern.

  The rangy wood hauler’s grin reflected the light from Tad’s lantern. “Yessir, Mr. Deputy, sir.”

  “Up early before a full day of woodcutting?”

  “Yessir, I am—up early, that is. But my day is wide open, a benefit to bein’ a carefree gent-ilman like me. Say, care to join me?”

  “I can’t today, but I could use a hand with something. I’ll pay for your breakfast if you’re willing to eat it at the county offices and feed the prisoner while I see to my livery chores. It won’t take me long.”

  Jeroboam’s chest puffed out. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

  “Not as long as you keep the cell door shut and locked.” Tad laughed. “I’ll ask Mrs. Croft to send the tray shortly.”

  He did just that, and once again outside, the brisk morning air hit his skin. Last night’s rain had awoken some sort of fragrant plant. What was it? Almost flowery. A bit like Rebecca when he’d bent down to kiss her yesterday—

  Stop it right there. No more of that. Not with chores and a dozen animals in the barn, which reeked, as it always did first thing in the morning. The anticipatory shuffles and snorts of twelve beasts greeted him. “Morning, all,” he said, hanging the lantern on a hook.

  Madge, his favorite of the mules, leaned her thick head over the stall door and gazed at him. “Hungry?” Her long ears were soft as silk to his callused fingers. She held still, enjoying his attentions. “Nice to know there’s a lady in my life after all,” he mused.

  A snuff escaped her large nostrils.

  Tad grinned. “You think I’m being melodramatic, do you?”

  Madge dipped her head.

  Tad rubbed her nose. “I don’t think you understand how complicated things are, sweetheart.”

  How would he find Rebekah Rhys? Scratching Madge’s neck, he saw no option other than to retrace the stagecoach’s route. Inquiring after her would take time, but if Rebekah had come to trouble, it was his obligation and privilege to help her—even if it meant leaving Ruby City unprotected while the sheriff was on his circuit of the area mines.

  Tad’s jaw tensed. Hopefully the Gang of Four wouldn’t cause any more trouble while he was gone, but the Gang seemed to take a few days’ break between robbing cargo haulers and miners, so things should be quiet for a few days.

  The horses and mules in his care, however, were unable to feed themselves or rent themselves out. He couldn’t leave the livery unattended until Pa returned on Saturday. Even if Tad paid someone to feed the stock for the interim, he and Pa needed the income from renting out the animals, and they couldn’t trust just anyone to handle that end of the business. Especially now. Money had been tight since a piece hauler drove one of their wagons into a crevasse—and left it there, with a busted axle and two injured horses. Poor ol’ Grady was fine now, but Red’s leg had broken and he hadn’t made it. Tad had entertained harsh thoughts about the long-gone miner for mistreating a creature like that.

  Tad’s lips compressed. God, I feel like that plate-juggling clown from the circus that passed through town last month. Something’s going to slip through my fingers, and when it does, the crash will make a mess.

  Madge shifted her weight from one hoof to the other, drawing Tad to the present. There wasn’t time to dwell on things he couldn’t control. He gave Madge’s bony skull a final pat. “All right, let’s get everyone fed.”

  After seeing to the horses and mules, Tad scrubbed in the pump’s brisk water and entered the door connecting the livery to the kitchen of the small house he and Pa built. He lit the stove, helped himself to the coffeepot, and scrounged for breakfast fixings while the coffee brewed. In little time, he sat down at the scratched table to eat. The bread was stale and the coffee scalded his tongue.

  “I miss you already, Mrs. Horner.”

  Truth be told, though, he was blue about more than missing his landlady’s cooking. He couldn’t help thinking about what the morning after his wedding should have been like, how he planned to take his bride on a ride to show her the area he loved and the beauty to be found under the jagged shelter of the Owyhees.

  But he’d just decided not to dwell on things that weren’t meant to be. He had other tasks to accomplish. Marking off Longbeard Pegg’s claim, searching out stagecoach robbers, and checking on his wife all had to be done today—in addition to looking for his missing fiancée.

  Rebecca’s stride up the street was a combination of walking and hopping over mud puddles, requiring her to watch where she stepped. Perhaps that’s why she almost walked into a mule.

  The gray beast stood in her path beside a round-cheeked fellow who wore a shirt that had probably once been white but had yellowed with time and use. With his weatherworn features, he appeared old enough to be her pa. His expression wasn’t particularly fatherly, however. His gray-brown brows wiggled in a manner that was almost flirtatious.

  Mrs. Horner had warned her there weren’t many females in town and masculine attention was to be expected. Rebecca resolved to be courteous while not giving her new neighbor a hint of encouragement. “Good morning, sir.”

  The fellow doffed his wide-brimmed hat, revealing a shock of hair that seemed a perfect match to the shaggy forelock tufting atop his mule’s head. “Mornin’, ma’am. Delighted to see you again.”

  Again? Ah, yes. She recognized the stained suspenders holding too-big pants up to his small paunch, and the eager grin revealing gaps in his teeth. He was the man who’d told her and Tad yesterday that Mr. Orr was about to leave town and they’d best hurry and get married. What was he called? Eustace? No, that wasn’t right.

  She was about to ask his name when his head inclined toward her with a conspiratorial bent. “I couldn’t help overhearin’ when you got off the stage that you’d been set upon by the Gang of Four. I had the misfortune to meet them, m’self. I didn’t have a coin to scratch with so they took the gold tooth right out of my maw.” He stretched open his lips and pointed.

  “Oh, my.” The sudden glimpse into his mouth was not pleasant, and her first instinct was to recoil. In an instant, however, indignation rose within her chest. What sort of people took a poor man’s tooth right out of his mouth? “They’re bullies, that Gang of Four.”

  “Robbin’ and terrorizin’ for pleasure, that’s what they do.” His clear eyes opened wide. “Say, it won’t make up for what they took from you, but I got a weddin’ present for you.”

  Silver? Gold? A kiss? “Oh no. The deputy and I aren’t—married after all.” It seemed easier to say that than explaining the whole sordid affair.

  He stopped digging in his pockets to gape. “The deputy wasn’t to yer taste, then?”

  She’d liked the deputy just fine, until she learned he was a deputy. “It’s complicated.”

  “He’s nice to look at, I s’pose, and that hat o’ his is a thing to behold, but if you say s
o.” He shrugged. “I’m still givin’ you a present. Call it a welcome gift.” He dug back into his pants pocket, withdrawing a clump of used handkerchiefs, which he balanced atop the mule. Then he sifted through his stash, plucked something out, and reached for her hand. “Don’t peek.”

  At least it wasn’t a kiss. Still, the last time someone put something in her hand and told her not to look, she’d received an unpleasant surprise from her brother Johnny. She could still feel the baby snake, and still wished she’d had the presence of mind to calmly return it to the earth rather than screaming, just as Johnny had wanted her to.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Don’t scream this time.

  Whatever the fellow—whatever his name was—deposited on her hand, it didn’t seem to have feet. He curled her fingers like a protective cage over the object. “Here you go.”

  She opened her eyes and her hand to see a rock the size of a dove’s egg, rough and reddish brown. “Thank you.”

  “It’s jasper.” He hitched up his pants. “Not much to look at on the outside, but get it cut and polished, and you’ll see. The inside’s glorious.”

  A bit like some people. Maybe even this fellow here. Perhaps it was the effect of a good night’s sleep on a real bed, the sun warming her back, or the gift of the jasper, but a sense of protectiveness grew in her chest for the man with the mule. He was probably lonely, something she could certainly understand. And he seemed as harmless as his mule. “You are most kind, sir. I don’t know your name.”

  “Ulysses Scruggs.” He bowed. “This here is Madge.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Mr. Scruggs. Madge.” She patted the mule’s neck. “I’m Miss Rice.”

  “It’s Ulysses. Mr. Scruggs was my pa.” He laughed at the old joke. “He stayed in one spot, rooted like a tree, but you never could tie me down. No sir, I follow the breeze, chasin’ one adventure after another, minin’ hither and yon. But I might be willin’ to reconsider my bachelor ways, should the right female come along.”

  Madge hung her head, as if she was embarrassed by such talk.

  She wasn’t the only one, but Rebecca wouldn’t bite Ulysses’s bait. “You’ve got Madge.”

  “She’s a rental from Fordham and Son. Works best for me to hire out animals for minin’ ex-pi-ditions, since I’m somethin’ of a roamer.”

  “Since you’re on your way to the mines, then, I won’t hinder you.” She smiled and held up the jasper. “Thank you for my welcome gift.”

  “Aw, I don’t mind talkin’ further.” He didn’t budge.

  “I’m sure we’ll see one another soon, but I’m expected at the mercantile.”

  Madge nudged him with her nose, as if to prod him along.

  Rebecca stifled a laugh and strode around him and Madge. “Good-bye, Ulysses.”

  “But if you ain’t married to the deputy, does that mean you’re lookin’ for a man?”

  “No, Ulysses.” She waved farewell. Maybe she should be irritated, but she couldn’t help but feel amused.

  She was hopping over another puddle on her way to the mercantile when a figure jogged alongside her. My, Ulysses was persistent.

  But it wasn’t Ulysses. Tad, grinning, tipped his hat. She’d stopped walking without thinking about it, peering up at her accidental husband. His clothes were less fancy than yesterday’s. Then again, so were hers. Her red-sprigged calico skirt, fraying at the hem, looked tired and worn. So did Tad. Bags pouched under his eyes, indicating he hadn’t slept nearly as well as she had, but a spark glinted in his gaze despite his obvious fatigue, and his dimple flashed in his clean-shaven cheek. “I see you met Ulysses.”

  “And the mule. He said she’s yours?”

  He laughed. “Madge, yes. Smarter than me, and better looking, too.”

  Ha. Tad was the best looking—oh, never mind.

  “So,” Tad continued. “Did everything go well last night?”

  “I was so tired, I could have slept on a plank, but the bed was much nicer. Thank you for giving up your room to me.”

  “Mrs. Horner will keep a good eye on you.” His boot toed the squishy earth. “Are you off to visit Theodore?”

  “I thought I could help him in the mercantile.” Lest Tad think she’d forgotten her promise to Mrs. Horner, Rebecca rushed on. “I found the feather duster so I could clean the house, but it was ragged as a half-plucked turkey, so I asked if she had another one and she said never mind cleaning house today. I hope she didn’t think I was being persnickety. I could’ve used a rag.” She was babbling, so she lowered her head. “Anyway, I convinced her to let me start pea soup for dinner.”

  “Thanks for trying. She’s a proud woman.”

  His gaze shifted so suddenly that hers followed, and she met the wide-eyed stare of the lanky young man from yesterday. Jeroboam Jones. “Howdy, ma’am. Pardon me for intrudin’, but this is official county business.”

  He certainly looked proud to be conducting it, too, the way he puffed out his chest and nodded at Tad. Rebecca bit back a smile. “It’s no intrusion.”

  Jeroboam stuck his thumbs through his belt loops. “The prisoner is still secure, Deputy. Orr has returned early and relieved me from my post.”

  Jeroboam must’ve kept watch at the jail so Tad could see to his chores. Rebecca appreciated Tad’s diligence in guarding the town’s prisoners.

  Tad tipped his hat. “I’m grateful for your service. You get enough to eat?”

  “Did indeed.” Jeroboam rubbed his stomach. “Getting a dee-vorce today?”

  Hopefully it wouldn’t take an entire month for Jeroboam and the rest of the town to lose interest in Rebecca, Tad, and Theodore’s private affairs, but she might as well set the record straight. Her hands clasped at her waist. “Not a divorce. An annulment is an altogether different thing.”

  “Speaking of,” Tad said, nodding at Jeroboam. “The lady and I have to discuss a few things, if you don’t mind.”

  “I’ll leave you to it, then. I need some supplies from your other husband, ma’am.” Jeroboam nodded knowingly at Rebecca before he turned away.

  “I do not have two husbands,” she called to his retreating form. Too late. He was already in the mercantile.

  “About yesterday.” Tad’s eyes were the softest mixture of green and brown, like looking into the depths of a lake. “I shouldn’t have rushed you into marrying.”

  “You didn’t. I was agreeable to the notion, remember.” What an understatement. Heat flooded her cheeks. “If I’d spoken up when Mr. Orr called you Tad, we could’ve figured it out, and it would’ve spared us both the inconvenience.” Although that didn’t seem the right word. It wasn’t as if she’d purchased the wrong color of thread.

  He shrugged. “It’ll be easy as pie to set things right.”

  That old adage stuck in her craw, in a funny way, and she laughed. “Pie isn’t so easy, for me, at least. Crust and I don’t get along. Lots more work than a cobbler.”

  He joined her in laughing. “I’ll try to make it easy as cobbler, then. Probably won’t be as tasty.”

  My, that dimple of his went as deep as the fire in that opal he gave her. At the thought of it, she gasped. “I still have your ring. Not on my hand, of course.” Her fingers flapped as if to show him their bare state, but she wore gloves anyway. “Would you like me to fetch it now?”

  “No. I won’t be using it until the judge comes back, at least.” He must be worried about his Rebekah, the way his mouth twisted.

  Something in her chest twisted, too. “I suppose I should go see Theodore now.”

  “Me, too.” He extended his left arm, indicating she should precede him up the steps to the mercantile. “I need some rope before I visit Longbeard Pegg.”

  “A man who keeps his promises. Rebekah Rhys is blessed to have you.”

  Oh, she shouldn’t have said that aloud. It sounded like she admired him in a way a woman shouldn’t admire her fiancé’s cousin.

  “Deputy!” A short fellow poked out the door of the post office. “
Mail just arrived. Letter for you.”

  “Maybe it’s from your Rebekah.” Rebecca tried to smile.

  “I hope so.” But he looked more anxious than happy. “I’d best read it before I go into Theodore’s.”

  “Until later, Deputy.” It felt odd to part from him, but it was only fitting. She had another life to start, one she’d chosen.

  The mercantile door stood wide open to allow the morning breeze inside, she supposed. She sauntered in. And stopped cold.

  Theodore stood behind the counter, face-to-face with a redheaded woman, her hands on his shoulders, his hands clamped about her waist.

  Rebecca’s heart jumped to her throat and stifled her tongue, preventing her from giving voice to the words locked behind her teeth: I beg your pardon and have you no decency?

  She did not come all the way to Idaho to see her fiancé snuggling another woman. She did not condone, appreciate, excuse, or tolerate such shenanigans. The minute she could speak again, she’d let loose with every word in her arsenal.

  Then the strangest thing happened. Gratitude. She didn’t know where she’d go now, or how she’d live, but thank God she’d walked in and seen Theodore and this other woman with her own eyes so there’d be no doubt. If he had affection for someone else and wasn’t the husband for her, it was best to know now, before she married him. Before she loved him.

  Yes, this was a good thing indeed.

  Her tongue loosened, but she didn’t make a sound other than to clear her throat.

  Theodore looked her way and inexplicably grinned like she’d brought him a birthday cake.

  “Rebecca.” He hoisted the redhead to the ground and then bent, rising again with a step stool in hand. Now that the young lady’s feet were firmly planted on the floor, the top of her head reached Theodore’s shoulder. Rebecca gulped. The young lady had been standing on the stool. Theodore was simply helping her down.

  What sort of person was she, jumping to the conclusion she did? And then feeling grateful about not marrying the man she had come here to marry? She forced a smile. “Is something amiss, Theodore?”