Ruby

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Carmelita was in her glory. She had made all their favorite dishes. For Diamond there was the spicy mix of Mexican and Texas chilis. Pearl preferred the slowly simmered roast beef that her mother had made in Boston. Jade’s exotic taste reflected her mother’s homeland in China. And Ruby constantly lived up to her fiery reputation by insisting on the mouth-burning, eye-watering food of the bayou.

  Jade looked up from the tea she was brewing. “I think a dress shop is a fine idea.”

  “Would you buy one of those?” Diamond pointed to the gown Ruby was wearing.

  “What’s wrong with my gown?” Ruby demanded.

  “Oh, nothing.” Diamond drank a glass of buttermilk and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “Except the neck is so low it displays half your bosom. And the back end is so tight your rump sways like an old mare I once had.”

  Carmelita, choking back a laugh, began placing platters on the wooden kitchen table, in the hope of fending off a fight. “Lunch is ready,” she said, shooting a sideways glance at Diamond. “You should eat and not talk.”

  But Diamond, never one for subtlety, continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “And that color. If Adam’s new bull saw you clear across the pasture, he’d come running.”

  “Are you finished?” Ruby demanded.

  “I’ve just started.” Diamond took her seat at the table and helped herself to several slices of corn bread before passing the platter to Pearl. “What’s worse, Ruby, if the bull did spot you, you wouldn’t be able to get out of the way. Look at that skirt. Why, you can hardly walk, let alone run. Can you picture Lavinia Thurlong or Gladys Witherspoon trying to waddle through town wearing one of your gowns?”

  The image she suggested had the others giggling.

  “Are you quite through?” Ruby asked through gritted teeth.

  “Yep. I guess I am.” Diamond sprinkled chilis over her beef and dug in to her lunch.

  “I am not l’imbécile.” As always, whenever she was agitated, Ruby’s tones slipped into a French-English mix that only added to her haughtiness.

  “No one is accusing you of being a fool.” Pearl shot a look at Diamond, while trying to soothe Ruby’s ruffled feathers. “But I think Diamond has a good point. Though your gowns look...enchanting on you, Ruby, I can’t quite picture the women of Hanging Tree in them.”

  “They’d look like a damned pack of soiled doves hoping to get work at Buck’s saloon,” Diamond said, choosing to ignore Pearl’s pointed looks.

  “I’m not trying to force my taste on others.” Ruby’s food was forgotten. If she couldn’t persuade her own family, how could she ever hope to persuade the townspeople?

  Jade’s words—calm, refined, with a hint of the Orient—broke through their thoughts. “From my earliest days I was instructed that even simple people have a need for beauty and elegance in their lives. It was the reason why the Golden Dragon was so successful.”

  “Is that why the Golden Dragon is now a church named the Golden Rule?” Diamond asked sarcastically over a mouthful of food.

  “Oh, Diamond.” Pearl laid a hand over her sister’s sun-reddened arm. “Must you use every opportunity to pick a fight?”

  Diamond shrugged. “It’s just my nature. Pa taught me to be sensible.”

  “Maybe too sensible.” Pearl forced her loveliest smile to her lips before turning to Ruby. “The town scoffed at my idea for a school here in Hanging Tree. But in scant months they’ve come to accept it. As they’ve accepted me. I think it’s wonderful that you have a dream, Ruby. And I, for one, urge you to do all you can to fulfill that dream.”

  “I agree,” Jade said softly. “You will add beauty and glamour to our little town. Not to mention a touch of fashion.”

  “Merci.” Ruby turned to Diamond. “But I desire your approval, as well, chérie. This is, after all, your town. These are your people. If my own sister does not approve, how can I expect it from strangers?”

  Diamond glanced around the table and realized that the others had stopped eating and were staring at her. She shoved aside her plate. “I don’t disapprove, Ruby. I think it’s fine that you want to use your talents. Just don’t expect the women of Hanging Tree to beat down your door. They work all day in the blazing sun, turning the soil or tending the herds. Every dollar they have goes to buy seed or tools or other necessities. There isn’t room in their lives for fancy dresses and feathered bonnets.”

  “There is room in every woman’s life for something soft and pretty,” Ruby said fiercely. “If I make it attractive enough, and reasonable enough, they will buy.”

  “I hope so.” Diamond shoved back her chair. “I’ve got to go. I promised Adam I’d help him clear some more brush today.” She pressed a kiss to the housekeeper’s cheek. “Thanks for the vittles, Carmelita. I sure do miss your cooking.”

  “Then you must come back one night this week,” Carmelita pleaded. “I will make you and Senor Adam a special supper.”

  “How about tomorrow?” Diamond snatched at the opportunity to avoid cooking. “That’ll give me a chance to hear more of Ruby’s plans.” She strolled around the table and brushed a kiss over each of her sister’s cheeks. When she reached Ruby she kissed her, then added, “I don’t mean to discourage you. Pearl is right. You have to follow your dream.”

  “Do you mean it?” Ruby’s eyes were alight with surprise.

  “Of course I do. Pa said that’s what made Texas so special. It’s a land of dreamers, who followed their hearts.”

  “Oh, chérie. You have made me so happy. I needed your approval.”

  “Then you have it.” Diamond strolled to the door, then turned and added, “Just don’t ask me to be your first customer.”

  Chapter Six.

  “Marshal.” Deputy Arlo Spitz leaned on his broom, trying to look important. “Millie Potter sent Birdie Bidwell over to see if you’re planning on coming to her boardinghouse for lunch, or if you want a tray.”

  Quent looked up from his paperwork, rubbing the back of his neck. He disliked this part of his job almost as much as he disliked looking down the barrel of an outlaw’s gun. But it went with the territory.

  “I’m not very hungry.” He shuffled through the Wanted posters a final time, committing the names and faces to memory, before filing them away in a drawer.

  “She said to tell you she’s making chicken and dumplings.”

  Quent grinned. “Guess I could force myself. Tell Birdie I’ll be along shortly.”

  He shoved back from his desk and crossed the room to pluck his hat from a peg by the door. “After lunch I’m planning to ride out to Widow’s Peak. See if there’s any fresh sign of Boyd Barlow. I should be back well before dark.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing, Marshal. I can handle the job.”

  Quent strode down the dusty main street, knowing that his deputy was already sprawled in the chair, feet on the desk, hat over his eyes. It would take a dozen outlaws, guns blazing, to budge Arlo from that chair for the next hour or more.

  As Quent strolled past the bank and the mercantile, he saw a crowd forming up ahead. Men and boys mostly, though a few women craned their necks, as well. When he got closer he saw the reason for the crowd.

  Ruby Jewel was standing between Farley Duke, owner of the sawmill, and the handsome young banker, Byron Conner, staring at a spot of vacant land.

  Quent shook his head. He should have expected that it was Ruby. No other woman in town could attract so many men. Like bees to honey.

  As he drew near he could hear that smooth drawl. “Oh, no. It must have several steps up, so that the dirt of the road is not tramped inside on shoes. And windows, so that I can display my wares.”

  Wares? That brought Quent up short. Lunch was forgotten as he veered off the path to join the others.

  Farley finished his measurements. “I can start cutting the logs tomorrow, Miss Ruby. Soon as I finish up work on the Tates’ barn.”

  “That would be fine, Mr. Duke.” Ruby pressed a fine silk handkerchief t
o her forehead, then touched it lightly to her throat. Both Farley and Byron Conner watched wide-eyed as her hand moved lower, to tuck the bit of silk into the cleft between her breasts.

  “Morning, gentlemen.” Quent stepped between them, then tipped his hat. “Ruby.”

  He saw the sudden narrowing of her eyes. It was the only indication that she hadn’t forgotten. Or forgiven. “Planning on building something, are you?”

  When Ruby didn’t respond, Farley Duke nodded. “Miss Ruby is opening a new shop.”

  Quent couldn’t hide his surprise. “That so? What for?”

  “Miss Ruby is going to be making ladies’ gowns and such,” the banker said.

  Quent knew his mouth was hanging open. But he couldn’t help it. Somehow, he’d never imagined Ruby Jewel as a seamstress. In fact, it had never occurred to Quent that she knew how to do anything except flit around town like a colorful butterfly.

  “It’s just what this town needs,” the banker went on. “The women of Hanging Tree will be delighted.”

  Quent felt a ripple of annoyance. If Ruby had been looking for a loan, this same banker would have laughed her out of town. But because the Jewel family kept all their money in his bank, he was positively fawning over her.

  “Mr. Duke, my sister Jade said you might be willing to oversee the workers, as well. She said she couldn’t have built the Golden Rule without your help.” Ruby gave the owner of the sawmill a smile so warm it would have melted glaciers.

  “Why, yes, ma’am. I’d be pleased to take care of that for you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Duke. And thank you, Mr. Conner.” She offered her hand and the banker accepted as though he were holding a banknote worth a king’s ransom. “I value your opinion. For a woman alone, it is so comforting to know I have friends I can trust.”

  “And I value your...friendship, Miss Jewel.”

  Quent gave a hiss of disgust. Ruby Jewel knew exactly what she was doing. She had these two fools practically drooling over the chance to help her in any way they could.

  “When do you think I can settle in?” Ruby asked.

  Farley scratched his head, mentally calculating. “If the weather holds, ma’am, we can have the building up in a couple of weeks. After that, it’ll be easy to finish the inside. I’d say a month. Maybe a little longer.”

  “Oh, that is wonderful news, Mr. Duke.” She clapped her hands in delight and danced around, causing the hem of her gown to swirl. The display of shapely ankles caused both men to smile their appreciation.

  Quent’s frown deepened. These two were worse than fools. They were behaving like a couple of lechers.

  “Well, ma’am.” Farley glanced at Quent, then rubbed his hand on his pants and offered it to Ruby. “I’ll be here tomorrow with a crew.”

  “That’s fine, Mr. Duke. I’ll be here, too.” Ruby accepted his handshake, then turned to lay a hand on the banker’s arm. “You will keep me informed of the cost?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He closed a hand over hers. “I’ll personally see to it that your money is well spent. You can count on me being here every day.”

  As would every man in town, Quent thought irritably.

  When they walked away, Ruby remained, staring at the patch of dusty earth as though it were a palace.

  Quent cleared his throat.

  She turned her head and fixed him with a cold look. “Are you still here, Marshal? I thought by now you’d be busy arresting some terrible outlaw.”

  “There don’t seem to be any outlaws around at the moment.”

  “Then perhaps you should arrest some poor helpless lady.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. He couldn’t help himself. The fire in her eyes was positively scorching. “Ruby, you’re neither poor nor helpless. And in fact, after that little charade, I’m not even certain you’re a lady.”

  “Charade?” She turned on him, hands on her hips. “Whatever are you talking about?”

  “Don’t use that innocent act on me. Those fluttery lashes. The heaving bosom. That breathless little voice. And that smile when you thanked Farley and Byron. Ruby, you may be just about the best actress this town has ever seen.”

  “Oh, what a terrible thing to say. I was just being myself.” She stomped her foot and turned her back on him. “You are a mean, miserable, spiteful man.”

  “And arrogant,” he said, trying not to laugh.

  “Don’t forget arrogant.”

  “Oh, you are that,” she called over her shoulder before walking away.

  A few steps later he caught up with her.

  “Now what do you want?” she demanded.

  “Nothing. I just noticed we’re headed in the same direction.” He was struggling hard not to laugh again, knowing it would only add fuel to the fire burning in those eyes.

  As they passed Durfee’s Mercantile, he caught sight of Lavinia Thurlong and Gladys Witherspoon huddling in the doorway with Effie Spitz. The three women fell silent and stared hard at Ruby as she approached.

  Seeing them, she lifted her head and stared straight ahead.

  “Is it true, Miss Jewel,” Lavinia began, “that you spent the night in jail with Beau Baskin?”

  Quent’s head came up sharply, but before he could utter a word Ruby said, in her most charming French accent, “I do not believe I could have heard correctly. Is it your suggestion, Mrs. Thurlong, that Beau and I spent the night together?”

  Lavinia’s face turned several shades of scarlet, while Rufus Durfee and several men inside the store could be heard choking on their laughter.

  “If that is what you are suggesting, then you must also think Marshal Regan would not only permit such a thing, but, in fact, demand it. Is that what you are implying? That your fine marshal is competing with Buck Coffee and his saloon?”

  “You know perfectly well what I mean—” Lavinia began.

  But Ruby cut her off with a tart “I would think your meaning is very clear, Mrs. Thurlong.”

  She swept along the walkway, her head high, her eyes straight ahead.

  Beside her, Quent was silently cheering. This time, Lavinia had met her match.

  When they reached Millie Potter’s boardinghouse, and Quent climbed the steps behind her, Ruby gave a little groan of disgust. “I should have known there was no escaping you, Marshal. I suppose you’re having lunch here, too?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I hope you’re satisfied,” she muttered. “The idle gossip of your deputy’s wife has made me an object of scorn.”

  “Only among those three fools,” Quent said.

  “Then you do not understand the nature of people,” she said softly. “The tale will be repeated until I am made to sound like the most wicked creature ever born.”

  He didn’t know about the most wicked. But looking down into those fiery eyes, he would have to call her the most beautiful ever born.

  He reached around her and opened the door. As she brushed past, he inhaled the exotic fragrance of her perfume and felt the rush of heat. At once he realized his mistake. If he had half a brain, he’d skip lunch and head right out to Widow’s Peak, where the only trouble he’d have to face would be an outlaw’s bullets.

  “Well, Ruby. What a nice surprise.” Millie Potter looked up with a smile. In her hand was a pitcher of buttermilk, which she was pouring into several glasses. “I didn’t know you’d be favoring us with a visit today.”

  “I was in town and thought I’d stay for lunch.”

  “I’m so glad.” When Millie caught sight of the marshal directly behind Ruby, her smile grew considerably brighter. “Hello, Quent. I was hoping you hadn’t forgotten.”

  “Now, how could I forget chicken and dumplings?”

  “I thought that might get your interest. Sit down,” Millie called. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll only be a minute.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen.

  Quent called out greetings to the four ranchers standing to one side of the room, discussing the latest
problems with crops and weather. “’Afternoon Gus, Willie, Sam, Gordon. You all know Miss Ruby Jewel.”

  Though the ranchers answered him with nods and murmurs, their gazes were riveted on the woman beside him. Quent felt a moment of annoyance. Ruby Jewel seemed to have the same effect on men everywhere. But, he had to admit, it wasn’t a deliberate effort on her part. She was simply a magnet for men’s attention. Not that he didn’t understand. Besides her obvious beauty, there was that charming manner. She just couldn’t help herself. It was as natural for her to bestow a radiant smile on each man as it was for a cat to purr.

  “We were just about to take a seat,” one of the men called. “Glad you’re joining us.”

  All four men fell over themselves to hold Ruby’s chair and sit beside her. But since Quent was the closest he managed to beat them to it. As he took his seat, his thigh brushed hers and he could feel the heat clear through his clothes. Though his first reaction was annoyance, he had to admit that it was not an altogether unpleasant sensation. Especially since she was so busy trying to ignore him.

  Millie emerged from the kitchen, carrying a platter of chicken. Damp little tendrils of red hair had slipped from the knot atop her head to cling to her cheeks. She was trailed by Birdie Bidwell, the neighbor girl who helped with the chores. Though Birdie was tall for thirteen, and clumsy, she made up for it by taking great care not to knock over anything as she served the guests. She seemed especially in awe of the glamorous Ruby Jewel.

  “Help yourself,” Millie called as she set the platter in the center of the table.

  At once hands reached out and plates and bowls of steaming food were passed. But when the men saw Ruby sitting primly, her hands in her lap, they remembered their manners and deferred to her. When it came to impressing her, each of the ranchers seemed determined to outdo his neighbor.

  “Rolls, Miss Ruby?” asked the bewhiskered Gus.