My Heart Belongs in Ruby City, Idaho

by Susanne Dietze

  He shouldn’t crave anyone’s blessing but God’s, but Pa’s would sure be nice.

  A flash of red caught his eye when he passed the mercantile, and his head turned.

  Rebecca crossed the small mercantile porch, broom in hand. She looked up at him, waved and smiled.

  He waved back and settled in for the ride.

  It wasn’t until he’d ridden long past the edge of Ruby City that he realized his jaw didn’t hurt anymore, and he’d started smiling again.

  The next morning, Rebecca poured boiling water over the tea leaves she’d measured into a stout brown teapot. At once, steam fragranced with the delicate leaves wafted around her, eliciting a sensation of calm. There was something soothing about tea, and Rebecca hoped Mrs. Horner would feel the same.

  She carried a tray with the pot, two cups, and the sugar bowl into the sitting room, where Mrs. Horner perched on the horsehair sofa, attending to her mending. Or at least, she would have been if she hadn’t been overtaken by coughs.

  Rebecca set the tray on the dusty table in front of the sofa and patted her landlady’s back. “May I fetch anything for you?”

  Mrs. Horner shook her head, waving off Rebecca’s hand while she continued to cough. After a minute of hacking, she sat back, weary and flushed.

  Rebecca poured a cup of tea. Pity there was no lemon. Mrs. Horner’s throat might benefit from the acidic juice. Rebecca would have to ask Theodore if fresh lemons ever came this way. For a steep price, probably. “I’ve finished the breakfast dishes. How about a spot of tea?”

  “How thoughtful.” Mrs. Horner dabbed her lips with a hankie and took the cup Rebecca offered. “Sleep well, dearie?”

  “Once I went to bed. I stayed up late writing to Johnny, my brother. He’s two years older than I am, and he’s mining in California. I told him I was coming out here, but I wanted to let him know I’d arrived. Then I allowed my thoughts to get the better of me, I’m afraid.”

  “Thinking about your two menfolk, you mean?”

  Menfolk, as if she collected them like a child pockets pretty rocks. Although, now that she thought of it, two pretty rocks sat atop her dresser, and both were gifts from gentlemen: the jasper from Ulysses and the opal ring from Tad, which she really must return. What a ridiculous mess she was in. Something of her befuddlement must have shown on her face, because Mrs. Horner’s brows were raised in expectation.

  “There’s no protocol for this…situation I find myself in.” Rebecca set down her tea and rubbed her forehead. “Is it proper for a woman to sleep in the bed that was last rented by the husband she wasn’t supposed to marry? Should I be pledged to another when I’m married, or should Theodore and I break the engagement until I’m single again?”

  Mrs. Horner’s laugh was raspy from her illness. “This sort of thing doesn’t come up in etiquette lessons much, does it? You’re caught in a situation beyond your ken, dearie. It doesn’t help matters that Theodore and Tad have such a grudge betwixt ‘em, making this whole thing even harder than it needs to be.”

  “Why don’t they get along?” Maybe Rebecca shouldn’t have asked, but she couldn’t restrain her curiosity any longer.

  “A woman, o’ course. Dottie Smalls. Theodore and Tad were inseparable until she played ’em against each other. Both of ’em thought they had a shot at marrying her, but high on nine months ago she up and ran off with a miner named Ralph White. Her granddaddy died of a broken heart, I’m sure of it, but she didn’t come back for the funeral or anything. That Ralph was something else, especially when he spent time with Flick Dougherty—but that’s another story.” Mrs. Horner squinted. “Does it bother you, hearing your menfolk had another lady before you?”

  “Of course not.” But once she spoke, she recognized it wasn’t quite true. The thought of Tad and Theodore loving the mysterious Dottie Smalls nipped at her skin like a flea. Rebecca scratched through her sleeve as if that would make the sensation disappear, but it only spread.

  “Everybody has a past, you know. You, me, and your menfolk, but I’m sure Theodore doesn’t love her anymore, so don’t you fret.”

  Maybe not, but did Tad still love Dottie Smalls? It didn’t matter if he did or didn’t, since he was no one to her, but it seemed likely that he’d forgotten Dottie since he offered marriage to Rebekah Rhys. Rebecca rubbed her itchy arm. “I’m recognizing how little I know about this family I’m marrying into.”

  “Well, you know Theodore from his letters. He’s stable and steady. I’m sure you can guess Tad is a kind man and a good deputy. He rode out after the Gang of Four yesterday.”

  So that was where he’d been headed when he rode past the mercantile. “Alone?”

  “He knew he wouldn’t catch up to them but wanted to scout out their direction, if he could. At least, that’s what Giff said.” Mrs. Horner pinked. “Giff is his pa.”

  Tad thought he wouldn’t catch up to the Gang, but what if he had? He wouldn’t have stood a chance alone. Her trembling fingers covered her mouth.

  “Are you worried about meeting Giff, dearie?”

  Rebecca’s gaze drew up with a start. She dared not admit she’d been worrying about Tad, not the awkward first meeting she’d no doubt have with his father. “A little.”

  “He’s a good fellow.” Mrs. Horner took a sip of tea. “I imagine you’re meeting all kinds of folks in town.”

  “I met Ulysses Scruggs yesterday. Do you know him?”

  “Biggest flirt in the territory, but to be fair, there are so few women here, even I receive a proposal a week. And I’m old enough to be half the fellers’ ma. They just want three square ones a day, is all.”

  Rebecca doubted it. Mrs. Horner was as pretty as she was kind. The pink that appeared in her cheeks at the mention of Giff brightened her illness-pale complexion. Rebecca determined to help put roses back in her landlady’s cheeks.

  She started to clear the tea things. “I’ll be back to help prepare supper, but I thought I’d go to the mercantile to help Theodore, if that’s well with you.”

  “You go on and enjoy yourself.”

  “I’d like to help tidy today, too, if I may.”

  Mrs. Horner’s brows knit as she drained her tea. Maybe Mrs. Horner was proud, or didn’t understand that Rebecca needed to feel useful—and earn her keep. Then Mrs. Horner eyed the thick dust on the table. “Tidying up, and a hand with supper and breakfast, too. I’d say that’s a fair exchange for your room.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Rebecca gave in to the urge to kiss her landlady’s cheek. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll bring a new feather duster from the mercantile. Anything else we need?”

  “I don’t think so—” The rest of her words were lost to another coughing fit.

  Rebecca ensured her landlady would be well on her own and then hastened to the mercantile with a bounce in her step. Cornelia stood behind the counter, busy with a task, and Theodore, neat in a blue plaid shirt, string tie, and clean apron tied around his waist, held back the gray curtain to the storage area.

  “Good morning.” Rebecca’s smile encompassed both of them.

  Theodore didn’t release the curtain. “Good morning. I was just about to unpack something before the buyer arrives at nine, and since there are no customers right now, this seems a good time.”

  Since he didn’t walk over to greet her, was this his way of inviting her for some privacy? “I’ll help.”

  She followed him, passing Cornelia. With her glower, looped braids, and too-large dress of faded yellow calico that hung off her like a sail, Theodore’s employee had the look of a pouting child. Rebecca would have to reach out to Cornelia later, but right now, she wouldn’t waste a minute with Theodore.

  They’d talk. Maybe he’d notice the hue of her dress was the same as the pale blue stripes in his shirt, and they’d share a laugh. Instead, he set to work with a hammer claw and a large crate. “You don’t need to help, Rebecca. You can visit with Corny, if you want.”

  Why visit with Cornelia, when
she could spend time with her fiancé? She leaned against Theodore’s desk, which sat perpendicular to the stove, where a pot of fragrant coffee kept warm. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  “About what?” Theodore’s brow furrowed in suspicion.

  Anything. Their future, her journey, their wedding, but he seemed to be waiting for a specific subject. Very well. She dried her damp palms on her skirt. “I was speaking to Mrs. Horner this morning, and I realized it might not be proper for me to be engaged to you while I’m not legally a spinster. Would it bother you if we temporarily suspended our betrothal, for the sake of propriety?”

  “It does seem less than ideal for a woman to be engaged to one man and married to another.” He uttered the last word like it was distasteful. “Once the annulment’s granted, we can resume our plans?”

  “Of course.” They might have been discussing ice delivery, rather than an engagement.

  He nodded. “Now I’d best get to work.”

  She leaned over his shoulder. “What can I do to help you? Sort items? Clean the packing straw?”

  Theodore brushed the hair from his brow. “No thanks, but maybe Corny needs help.”

  With a sigh, Rebecca returned to the storefront, where Cornelia straightened bottles of tonic. “Anything I can do?”

  “Nope.” The diminutive redhead didn’t even turn around.

  The temptation to make Cornelia look at her, by tugging one of her looped braids maybe, made Rebecca squeeze her hands behind her back. “I don’t wish to get in your way, but—”

  “You’re not in my way. I just don’t need the help.”

  Rebecca would create something to do, then. After donning an apron, she organized yesterday’s receipts, dusted the counter, and polished the candy jars with a rag. After that, she wandered to the cleaning section to hunt for a new feather duster for Mrs. Horner. Cornelia eyed her with one orange, quirked brow but didn’t say a word.

  Rebecca had selected a puffy duster and a tin of waxy polish when Theodore reappeared from the storage room. He moved behind the counter and leafed through the paperwork stacked by the cash box.

  “Looking for something?” Rebecca set her items on the counter.

  “Yesterday’s receipts.”

  “I organized them alphabetically, so they’re ready for filing.”

  “Where’d you put them?” Theodore’s lips compressed.

  “Right there, by the cash box like I’m supposed to.” She peeked around him. “Oh, I don’t see them now.”

  “That’s because they’re not here. Did you throw them out?”

  “No, I left them by the cash box.” As she’d already said.

  “Oh my.” Cornelia scooted one of the candy jars to the side. “What do we have here?”

  Theodore brushed past Rebecca. “How did the receipts get here?”

  “She cleaned the jars.” Cornelia smirked. “She must have brought the receipts with her. Not intentionally, of course.”

  Indignation rose hot in Rebecca’s chest. “I left them by the cash box. I couldn’t have cleaned the candy jars with receipts in my hand.”

  Theodore shook his head. “You’re new to storekeeping, and it’s understandable that you’d hop from one task to another without thought, but you have to be careful with the receipts. They’re private and important to our record keeping.”

  “I know all that.” She wasn’t a dolt. “But I didn’t do it.”

  Theodore didn’t appear to have heard. He patted Cornelia’s shoulder and returned behind the counter. “Alphabetize these, will you, Corny?”

  The high lace collar of Rebecca’s blue dress tightened. Or maybe her throat swelled from holding back all the choice words she’d like to heap on Cornelia, who’d obviously hidden the receipts and “found” them again. To impress Theodore, perhaps? Or just to sabotage Rebecca?

  Either way, the receipts were alphabetized because Rebecca had done it already.

  At last, Theodore gazed at her with a tender smile. “Don’t be embarrassed, Rebecca. No harm done.”

  Harm had indeed been done, against Rebecca. She took a deep breath. High time to have a talk with Cornelia.

  The bell sounded over the door, indicating the arrival of a customer. As Theodore wandered to greet the miner, Rebecca turned away. Clearly, it was no longer the time or place to discuss the matter, but Rebecca couldn’t stay here and pretend all was well. Or that she’d misplaced the receipts by the candy jars.

  “I’m going to the post office to mail my letter to my brother,” she announced to the mercantile. Theodore smiled at her from where he attended to the customer but didn’t wave. Cornelia started to polish the already-polished candy jars.

  Rebecca reclaimed her embroidered bag from under the counter and stomped out of the mercantile.

  Straight into Tad’s broad chest.

  “Whoa, there.” Tad jerked backward on the mercantile porch, yanking back his hand from the door that had suddenly flung open on him, spilling Rebecca into the circle of his arm.

  Flushing a pretty pink color, she stepped back, her gaze fixed on the shiny star pinned to his vest. “Sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  “No, it was me. I almost trampled you.” He lifted one boot off the ground in an exaggerated display, which made her smile. A warm, gratified sensation filled his chest. “Where are you off to?”

  “The post office.” She tipped her head in its direction. “I wrote a letter to Johnny, my brother, to tell him I got here safely, but I need a stamp.”

  So she had a brother. Wonder what the fellow would think of Rebecca’s plight? Amused? Protective? Couldn’t be the latter, considering Johnny wasn’t much for providing for his sister. It seemed she was alone in the world.

  As for a stamp, Tad had a few to spare in the desk at the livery. He could give one to Rebecca, but Theodore probably wouldn’t appreciate Tad giving her anything more than a howdy-do. Tad shrugged. He wanted to reconcile with Theodore, and if letting Theodore pay for her stamps preserved his cousin’s pride and helped their family heal, so be it, but that didn’t mean Tad couldn’t be Rebecca’s friend. They were to be family, after all.

  Tad gestured toward the post office. “I’ll walk with you, if you don’t mind.”

  Her head tipped back at the mercantile. “Didn’t you need something from the store?”

  “Just you.”

  Her eyes widened in shock, and Tad could’ve kicked himself for the way that came out. “I mean, I came looking for you.”

  “You did?” She looked up at him, her pale yellow hair burnishing gold in the sunlight. “I confess, I’ve been thinking about you, too. Mrs. Horner said you went after the Gang of Four yesterday.”

  “Not them, just their tracks. Shall we?” He tipped his head toward the street. They fell into step. “I didn’t see a thing, by the way. Much as I’d like to catch the Gang, they’re good at avoiding capture. Say, your eyes match your dress. Mighty pretty.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, her gaze fixed to her toes. Oh no. He should not have said that aloud. Shouldn’t have noticed her eyes or her dress or that she was pretty. It didn’t matter how drawn he’d been to her, how glad he’d been to marry her. She was not his wife and wouldn’t ever be, and if he didn’t stop thinking and saying such foolishness, he’d make things a hundredfold worse for all of them: Rebecca, Theodore, and himself, too.

  But she wasn’t too mad. On the contrary, her lips quirked in a shy smile. And her appreciating his compliment seemed more dangerous than him giving it, because it made him want to compliment her again and again.

  Clearing his throat, he forced his gaze to the passersby on the street. “I came looking for you on official business.”

  “Oh?” There, she met his gaze again. Official business was nice and safe.

  “I sent Bowe Brown out of town last night. He deserves a longer stay in jail for grabbing you like that, but the sheriff’s policy is to expel most of the lawbreakers.”

  “Where is t
he sheriff?”

  “Checking on a situation at one of the mines. He’d do the same with Bowe if he was here, though. But Bowe is not welcome in Ruby City. I’m sorry he’s not in jail, but at least he won’t be here to bother you again.”

  “I’ll sleep better knowing I won’t see him again.” Relief smoothed her features. “And I understand why you had to send him out of town. My father used to do that, too.”

  Tad stopped walking as understanding hit him like a mule kick to the gut. Now her reaction on their wedding day made sense. It wasn’t just the thought that he, or rather, Theodore, had lied to her about being a deputy.

  She was upset because he was a deputy. Because she had been hurt by one.

  “Your father was a lawman, then?”

  Rebecca nodded. “A sheriff.”

  He took her elbow and led her to the old log bench outside Wilkie’s barbershop. He sat, keeping a full two feet between them out of respect for Theodore. “And something happened? You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

  “No, I don’t mind. Just before the war started, a pair of cardsharps came through town. Pa escorted them out, the way you did Bowe, but they came back, and before Pa knew they’d returned, one of them killed a town councilman over a game of poker. Pa rode after them with a posse, and—well.” Her words had thickened, as if tears clogged her throat.

  “He didn’t come home,” Tad finished for her.

  “His passing was quick, according to the men with him. Pa didn’t even know he was in peril. That’s the thing about danger. It has a way of sneaking up on the unsuspecting.” She swallowed. “It was a long time ago.”

  Not that long. It was just before the war, she said, and Fort Sumter was five years ago. A long time in some ways, yet still fresh and painful to her heart.

  “Hey.” A slurred voice startled Tad. A lean man with sharp cheekbones and brown hair curling on his shoulders leaned heavily against the doorframe, glaring at Tad and Rebecca with watery eyes. The stench of whiskey emanated from his unkempt clothes. “That bench is for customers, which you two ain’t.”