“Your past on the Lazy Q,” Alex added.
“Yes. I know that makes our conversation more awkward . . .”
“Only if it’s awkward for you. I’ve cut ties with my brother, and I won’t support his behavior.”
“Thank you.” Ruth leaned back in her chair and looked down at her hands. “Our guest’s name is Mr. Runyon. He’s a nice man—he has a good sense of humor, and he’s friendly. He asked me to go for a walk with him the first night we met, and I accepted, bringing along a few of my friends. He asked me again this afternoon, and I accepted, but this time . . . he seemed to feel that it meant more than it really meant.”
“He thinks you’re committing to him?”
Ruth shook her head. “I suppose so—but again, I don’t want to imagine things that aren’t there. He said he wanted to come see me in Kansas City. He has no other reason to be there, but he thought he could invent one.”
“And where does he live?”
“Wichita.”
Alex gave a low whistle. “I can see why you’d be concerned—two hundred miles is not a casual distance.”
“He said the journey would be worth it knowing I was at the other end.” Ruth rubbed at a licorice spot on one finger. “Was I too friendly? I actually thought I was quite the opposite. I meant to discourage him.”
Alex shook his head. “Men sometimes fancy themselves more welcome than they really are. I wouldn’t blame yourself for anything, Ruth—he likely got carried away.”
“Still, I keep thinking that I said or did something—”
Alex held up a hand. “I mean it. Don’t blame yourself if he misunderstood. It’s his responsibility to choose his own reactions. We haven’t known each other long, but I already know enough about your character to tell that you aren’t the sort to flirt or give false hope. Enough of this self-recrimination, if you please. He’s taken his interest and elevated it to a new plane, and he did that on his own.”
“I’m surprised that you know that about me already,” Ruth replied.
“You’re not difficult to figure out. I find you very down to earth.”
Something about the way he said that made her cheeks feel warm. “Thank you. I try to be genuine—being false seems to bring about so much unhappiness.”
“I agree. I find it admirable, the way you always speak your mind—even when you’re telling me things I don’t want to hear. That makes me confident that you’ll always be open and honest, and that inspires additional trust.”
“So, you’re saying you can trust me because I gave you a piece of my mind out in the apple orchard?” She smirked.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And I’ve meant to apologize for that, by the way—I didn’t escort you back into the hotel after we spoke. I was so distracted by what you’d told me that I didn’t think of it, and I’m sorry.”
She blinked. “You . . . you remember that?”
“It’s come back to haunt me on several occasions.”
“I can hardly believe that. It was such a small thing.” She shook her head. “I was irritated at first, but that’s only because I was irritated by everything that day. I didn’t need an escort—not in broad daylight, and not on Brody property.”
“But still . . .”
She held up a hand. “Oh, so now you’re feeling guilty about something, are you? Didn’t you just tell me that I shouldn’t blame myself? Maybe you should give yourself your own pretty speech.”
“All right, all right—point taken.” He chuckled. “It’s all in the past, then?”
“Absolutely. I’d forgotten about it until you brought it up just now.”
A scuffle at the door reminded Ruth that she was waiting for a tray, and she stood to let Emma in.
“It’s good to see you awake,” Emma said to Alex. “I didn’t know what you might want, so I brought a little bit of everything, and if this doesn’t suit, we’re making chops for the next meal.”
“I’m sure it will all be delicious,” Alex replied. “Thank you for bringing it up. I wonder if you shouldn’t install a dumbwaiter—wouldn’t that make it easier to bring trays up and down?”
Emma turned to Ruth with an astonished look on her face. “Why haven’t we thought of that before? I’ll bring it up with Mr. Brody the next time I see him.”
“You might have just earned yourself some extra pie,” Ruth told Alex. She handed him a bowl of stew from the tray. “Why don’t you start with this and we’ll see how you get along?”
“Perfect,” he replied. “You’re truly taking top-notch care of me.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Emma replied, and Ruth nodded, not wanting to admit just yet how much she was enjoying this additional task. She didn’t think she’d ever been able to sit and chat with a man so comfortably, and it was something she’d like to experience again.
Chapter Eleven
Alex took a bite of stew, but he couldn’t swallow for a moment because he found himself emotional all of a sudden. He never would have guessed that he’d find such good friends in a time when he’d need them so much. When he set out on this real estate transaction, he’d expected to sign some papers, send a few telegrams, and transfer some money. He’d never expected to have an altercation with his brother, ride after cattle thieves, and get shot—and he’d most certainly never expected to meet someone like Ruth Barnes, with her plain-speaking ways and her beautiful eyes.
“Wade and Margaret are going to leave in a few minutes, and they’ve asked if they can come up and say goodbye,” Emma said to him.
“Of course. Please invite them up.”
She slipped out of the room, and Ruth turned to him with a smile. “I think three people in here might get a little crowded, so I’ll leave you to your visit,” she said. “If you want to complain about your care behind my back, you’ll be free to do so.”
“On the contrary. In fact, I was just thinking about how grateful I am. The hotel owes me no favors, and yet you’ve treated me like one of your own.”
“We rather enjoy taking in lost, lonely souls. It helps us feel good about ourselves.” She flashed him a smile. “I’ll be back in a little bit. It’s almost time for your next dose.”
He’d know that even if she hadn’t told him. The pain had been increasing minute by minute, and it was only talking to her that had taken his mind off it.
She left the room and held the door open for Wade and Margaret to enter.
“Come in,” Alex said, motioning toward the chair. “Have a seat.”
Margaret accepted, and Wade stood at the foot of the bed. “You had us worried,” he said. “You look a bit better now, though.”
“The doctor says I should be up and around again in a month,” Alex replied. “He’s worried about the amount of blood I lost, but thinks I’ll make it back up.”
“Good. I can’t tell you how sorry I feel, you gettin’ shot on account of my cattle.”
“And your cattle being stolen on account of my brother?” Alex shook his head. “Ruth and I were just discussing feeling guilty about things we shouldn’t feel guilty for. There’s no blame here, Wade, not for any of us. I’m alive, you got your cattle back, and as soon as Jeb’s found, justice will be served. Everything’s going to turn out how it should—I have faith in that.”
“I like your way of thinking,” Margaret replied. “Far too many men would be inclined to feel sorry for themselves in your situation.”
“Oh, I’ve done some of that too,” Alex said with a chuckle. “But I’ve been spared this long—how can I not feel grateful for that? If God intended to turn His back on me, He would have done it yesterday, don’t you think?”
She smiled. “You’re right, and we have a lot to celebrate. Do you have any big plans? Should we ask Ruth to make a cake so we can celebrate your not-dying day?”
“I like that idea.” Alex looked back and forth between Wade and Margaret. “You both look worn out. Are you going to head home and get some rest?”
“I did
get a little rest just now after I ate, but yeah, I’m ready to get back to the Q. We couldn’t leave without checking on you, though—glad to see you’re all squared away,” Wade said.
“They’re taking good care of me.” Alex paused. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any word about Jeb.”
“No, but Colonel Gordon—the marshal—is downstairs, interviewing Jack for any final details. Then he’ll want to come up here and see you. You can ask him anything else that’s on your mind.”
“Good. I’ve been wondering what sort of punishment Jeb will face for this. I’m not in favor of his actions—any of them—but he is my brother, and I’m concerned about his well-being.”
“Of course you are,” Margaret said. “That’s only right and natural.”
“For that matter, I’m leaving this entirely in Colonel Gordon’s hands,” Wade said. “I don’t see the need to go after Jeb myself and turn this into some kind of vigilante endeavor. I have my cattle back, and that’s all I want.”
“I appreciate that,” Alex said, once again overcome. He didn’t know if he’d be that generous if he were in Wade’s position. These were good people who now surrounded him. Then he focused on something else Wade had said. “Jack’s still here?”
“Yeah. He was so tired, he fell asleep out in the barn, and when he woke up, Mrs. Brody felt sorry for him and tucked him back up in one of the guest rooms.”
“I’m not surprised he’s that worn out—he didn’t rest at all the whole time he was taking care of me. He saved my life—I’d like to speak with him.”
“I’ll make sure to leave word.” Wade leaned over and shook Alex’s hand. “We’d best be off. Do what the doctor says.”
“Oh, I plan to.”
Margaret stood up, then squeezed Alex’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re all right. We’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you.”
Alex listened to their footsteps on the staircase, and just moments later, heard more footsteps approaching. His heart gave a little leap, thinking it might be Ruth, but the step was slower, heavier, and then an older gentleman with a white moustache stepped into the room. “Mr. Barker?”
Alex tried to sit up a little more to show respect, but as pain shot down his leg, he gave it up as a lost cause, holding out his hand to shake instead. “Yes, I’m Alex Barker.”
“I’m Colonel Gordon, marshal here in Topeka. I’ve spent some time today asking questions and generally being nosy. Do you mind if I speak with you?”
“Not at all.” He did wonder when Ruth would be back with that opium, though. It sure sounded nice.
The colonel took a seat. “It’s my understanding that you’re the brother of Jeb Barker, the recent owner of the Lazy Q Ranch.”
“Yes, sir. I’m here to facilitate the purchase of his new property up north and the sale of the Lazy Q to Wade Watkins.”
Colonel Gordon nodded. “Can you please describe for me the events leading up to your being shot?”
Alex did so, trying to include the most important information while leaving out the trivia. It was hard to know what might be important, however. When he was finished, the colonel nodded again.
“Now, I have a very important question for you—perhaps the most important one I’ll ask. Can you describe to me the man who shot you, and did the shot appear to be deliberate or accidental?”
Alex nodded. “I remember him quite well. He had dark hair, a small mustache, somewhat large ears, and he wore a brown hat and a blue bandana. I never heard his name. As far as his intentions, I believe he did mean to shoot, but I don’t believe he was aiming for me in particular. It looked like he and the other men with pistols were trying to make a last stand, and I happened to be the one in the way.”
“Hmm.” The colonel looked down at the piece of paper he held, which was covered with scribbled notes. “That seems to match what Jack Milton was just telling me downstairs. Would you be able to come down to the station and identify the shooter?”
“Dr. Wayment has me confined to this bed for three weeks at least,” Alex replied.
“Would you trust Jack, as a witness, to make that identification for you? His description matches yours perfectly.”
“Yes, I’d trust him with that. I’ve already trusted him with my life, and he hasn’t let me down.”
“He’s a good man, Mr. Milton is.” The colonel put the sheet of notes in his pocket. “I believe that’s all I need, Mr. Barker. Try to get some rest.”
“Thank you, Colonel. Before you go . . .”
“Yes?”
“What can you tell me about my brother?”
The colonel had been preparing to stand, but now he settled back in the chair. “I didn’t want to say too much until we were certain, but I suppose there’s no harm in giving you a preliminary report. We’ve questioned the men who were brought in quite extensively. We patched them up first so they wouldn’t be distracted by those bitty little scratches. They all say Jeb Barker wasn’t involved.”
Alex thought he must have misunderstood. “I beg your pardon?”
“Smith and Kale, the two men your brother hired to go with him, arranged for the other accused thieves to meet up with them and carry off the robbery. Their plan was to steal the cattle, make Wade think Jeb was responsible, but drive the animals to another location altogether. They hoped that by the time your brother realized they weren’t coming to the new place, they’d be far enough away that tracking them would be difficult.”
“So they double-crossed both Wade and Jeb,” Alex said. “That would have been a neat trick if it had worked.” He paused. “Do you believe their story? Is it possible they were paid off to keep Jeb’s name out of it?”
“That’s what we’re looking into now,” the colonel said. “I’ve sent a rider up to Jeb Barker’s new ranch to see if that’s where he’s been the last couple of days, and to see if any witnesses can be found to corroborate the story. I’m inclined to believe it, though. If he had paid the men off, what good would that do them? They can’t spend the money from a jail cell.”
“True.” Alex wanted to believe it, but he also wanted to make sure that justice was served on every level. He hated feeling torn like this, but he knew that Jeb’s heart was so hardened now that only real consequences would reach him.
“I’ll let you know what we find out. In the meantime, try to rest easy. Nothing you can do from your sick bed.”
He gave Alex a nod and then left. Alex exhaled, a swarm of emotions overtaking him. Relief, apprehension, sorrow—he prayed this would all be resolved quickly. He wanted to know his brother’s true situation as soon as possible.
Ruth entered the room a moment later and pulled the opium bottle from her pocket. “He left just in time,” she said. “I thought I would have to interrupt your conversation to make sure you got your dose.”
“I won’t lie—I’m glad to see it,” Alex replied.
She administered the medication, then stepped back and regarded him. “Do you want me to get the doctor? Are you feeling worse?”
He shook his head. “Only because the opium was starting to wear off. I don’t think he’s needed—I’ve just got to get used to the pain.”
“Oh, I hope you don’t have to get used to it.” She looked at him sympathetically. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this, Alex.”
He smiled. “You’re a godsend. Thank you for everything you’re doing for me.”
“Honestly, it’s my pleasure. I do need to get down to the kitchen, though, so Callie’s going to sit with you for a while.”
“Sounds good.” He would have much preferred it if Ruth could stay, but that was unrealistic. They were working him into their schedules as best they could—it wasn’t up to him to dictate who saw to his care.
He was starting to get drowsy. He saw a pretty young lady enter the room and sit down, some mending in her hands. And then he was asleep.
***
“How’s our patient doing?” Dr. Wayment asked as he steppe
d into the lobby. His wife—and nurse—Jeanette entered the hotel right behind him, and Ruth smiled to see them together. They were so perfectly suited, it was as though they’d been created for each other.
“I believe he’s doing well, but I’ll leave that to you to decide,” Ruth said. “He had a dose of opium about twenty minutes ago, and Callie’s sitting with him now. He was curious how long he’d need such close supervision.”
“Another twelve hours or so, depending on how he’s doing,” Dr. Wayment replied. “I’ll be inspecting for any sign of infection and to see if the wound looks tightly closed. Sometimes skin can gap between the stitches, and I never like to see that.”
“I’ve never seen any of your stitches gap,” Jeanette remarked.
“That’s because I’m very careful of it. Back in medical school—well, we won’t relive my embarrassing stories.” He gave his wife a smile, and they headed up the stairs.
Ruth picked up the old menus she’d come out to the lobby to collect. She and Kate had been working on something new, and Mr. Brody had printed out the new menus just that afternoon. She was excited to see how the passengers liked the changes, but more importantly, how the local regulars liked them. She might never see those passengers again—the regulars were who really determined what they served.
Once back in the kitchen, she turned her attention to the stove. She’d mixed up a new soup—creamy cauliflower and potato.
“Kate, would you taste this and see what you think?”
Kate came over, picked up a spoon, and sampled it. “It needs a little more salt.”
“You’re right.” Ruth shook her head as she threw another pinch of salt into the pot. “I don’t know why I’m second-guessing myself so much.”
“Maybe because we haven’t changed the menu in a long time, so you’re worried that it won’t be accepted?” Carrie leaned against the counter and fixed her with a look. “And maybe you’re wondering if you should even be bothering with changes, considering that you’re getting ready to leave?”
“Have you become a mind reader?” Ruth picked up a dish towel and tossed it at her friend’s head.
The Turn of a Wheel (Kansas Crossroads Book 17) Page 10
