Ruby

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Farley nodded. “I’ll see to it, ma’am.”

  “And,” she said to her banker, “I have sent for several large looking glasses.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem, Miss Jewel,” Byron Conner said. “As long as you stay within the budget we agreed on.”

  “But they are very expensive looking glasses,” Ruby admitted. “And they are being shipped all the way from New York.”

  “New York.” The banker looked suitably impressed. “Do you really need something that fancy?”

  “The salesman assured me they can be positioned in such a way that my customers will be able to see either side of their reflections. They will add a great deal to my business.”

  He gave a grudging nod. “If you say so, Miss Jewel. But we’ll have to cut corners someplace.”

  “I’ll find a way,” she told him. “Leave it to me.”

  As the two men walked away, Ruby turned expectantly toward Quent. “Now, Quent, you have my complete attention.”

  His voice was as cold as his eyes. “And you have, once again, found a way to have mine.”

  Her smile faded slightly. “I don’t under—”

  “My undivided attention, Ruby.” He closed his fingers around her wrist. “What did you just tell Byron Conner? That you’d find a way to pay for those expensive looking glasses?”

  She nodded.

  “Even if it meant having to hurt Millie like that?”

  “Hurt Millie?” Her brows creased together. “Quent, you are making no sense. I am confused.”

  “Well, that makes two of us.” Seeing a carriage heaping through town, he caught her roughly by the arm and steered her to the side of the road. “What you did makes no sense, either. But then, I’m sure you have a reason that will suit your twisted logic.”

  “Reason? Reason for what?”

  She tried to pull free of his grasp, but he tightened his fingers, dragging her close.

  “For stealing. Again.”

  “Stealing?”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You don’t call it stealing, do you? I believe you call it your petit vengeance. But what did Millie ever do to you?”

  “Something has been stolen? From Millie?”

  “No more lies. I’m not going to believe this innocent act a second time.” His words were a low rasp of fury. He’d been fighting his temper ever since he’d seen Millie’s first tears. Now, seeing Ruby all fresh and dewy, with that throaty voice washing over him, his temper reached the boiling point. Especially since, despite everything he knew, his body reacted to the nearness of her. “Not this time, Ruby. This time you’re going to admit the truth. And you’re going to make restitution to Millie.”

  She yanked her arm free and drew herself up until her chin jutted defiantly. “You seem to think I have something of Millie Potter’s. You are mistaken. And I consider your accusation unforgivable. I demand an apology, Quent.”

  “Damn you!” His temper exploded. He caught her by both shoulders and lifted her off her feet, dragging her so close that his hot breath burned her cheeks. “Don’t you think I can see through this? You figured, since you’ve got the marshal eating out of your hands, you can do whatever you please. Well, this time you went too far. This wasn’t a harmless little bauble. That brooch was a gift from Millie’s dead husband. She’s over there crying her eyes out. Now, I’m warning you, Ruby, if I don’t get the truth out of you, I’ll lock you in a cell and throw away the key. Do you understand me?”

  If Ruby’s eyes had been guns, Quent would have been lying dead in the street. Her voice frosted over. Her accent thickened. “What you accuse me of is despicable.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Hand it over, Ruby.”

  She swore in a mixture of French, Cajun and English. “I do not have Millie Potter’s brooch. Furthermore, I have never even seen it. But this much I have seen. The devil himself. Who would lead on an innocent woman, and then use her...moment of weakness to bully her into a confession for a crime she did not commit.”

  Quent snapped. “That does it, Ruby. I’ve had enough of your lies. You’re not going to sweet-talk your way out of this. If you don’t tell me right now, I’ll...”

  “You’ll what?” she demanded.

  “I’ll throw your hide in jail. And you’ll stay there until you tell me where I can find Millie’s brooch.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Just watch me.”

  With that he picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and stalked off to jail.

  With everyone in the town watching and whispering.

  The news spread like a prairie fire. Effie Spitz told Lavinia Thurlong, who told Gladys Witherspoon, who couldn’t wait to tell everyone she met that Marshal Regan had hauled Ruby Jewel off to jail. Again. Deputy Arlo Spitz told his wife it was for stealing Millie Potter’s brooch. Arlo’s wife, Effie, embellished the tale so much that by the time it made the rounds, it sounded as though Ruby Jewel ranked right up there with Jesse James.

  “Rufus Durfee’s been looking for a pouch of tobacco that’s been missing from the shelf for close to a week now.” Effie lowered her voice. “He thought his boys, Amos and Damon, might have taken it so they could smoke out behind Neville Oakley’s livery. But I wouldn’t be surprised if the marshal found it in Ruby Jewel’s pocket. I’ll bet, with all the other things she does, she smokes tobacco, too.”

  Her husband shot her a look. “Next you’ll have her drinking whiskey and dancing with the customers at Buck’s saloon.”

  Effie flushed before saying defensively, “Well, you know what they say about women like Ruby Jewel. If she’ll steal, she’ll probably break other rules, as well. And you can’t deny she’s a thief. She’ll probably help herself to anything that isn’t nailed down.”

  “Effie,” he muttered, “if you know what’s good for you, you won’t let Marshal Regan hear you talking like this.”

  “And why not? I’ll bet he’s going to keep his own belongings under lock and key from now on. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised at anything I hear about that bold hussy. I told you the first time I laid eyes on her, in that fancy red satin gown and feathered bonnet, that she was wild and wicked. Didn’t I, Arlo?”

  Her husband walked away, muttering under his breath. Besides, he was in a hurry to get to work. He didn’t want to miss a moment of the fireworks that were bound to take place between Ruby Jewel and Quent Regan.

  Effie hurried away, eager to spread the word. After all, it wasn’t every day the little town of Hanging Tree had such delicious gossip. Imagine one of the richest women in Texas turning out to be a common thief.

  When Diamond rode into town a little while later, she was surprised to see a crowd of people milling about. Not one to stand around and join in gossip, she dismounted in front of Durfee’s Mercantile, and ambled inside.

  Several women stood to one side whispering and giggling behind their hands. When they caught sight of Diamond, they lapsed into silence.

  “Howdy, Rufus,” she called, heading toward the counter in an uneven gait. The bigger she got, the harder it was to walk. Especially in boots and chaps.

  “Morning, Diamond.” Rufus Durfee made a great show of removing his spectacles and wiping them on his apron, to avoid her eyes.

  “Quite a crowd today, Rufus. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, this ‘n’ that.” He replaced his glasses. “Something I can help you with?”

  “Your wife used to make those little sweet-sour pickles. Bread-and-butter pickles, I believe she called them. Every year when she’d do them up in those fancy jars, Pa used to buy them as a special treat.”

  Rufus nodded.

  “Do you still sell them?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  Diamond smiled. “Oh, Rufus. I’ve been thinking about those pickles all night. Thought I’d treat myself.”

  He shot her a strange look. “You rode all the way into town for Ida Mae’s pickles, huh?” He walked to a shelf and lifted down a small glass jar. “
How many would you like?”

  “How many do you have left?”

  “Pickles?”

  “Jars,” she said.

  He blinked, paused, counted. “Eleven jars left.”

  “Good. I’ll take ’em all.”

  “All?” He seemed momentarily puzzled, then lifted down the jars and set them on the counter. “I’ll have to charge you a whole dollar, Diamond.”

  “Fair’s fair.” She whipped out her money and picked up a jar. Twisting off the lid, she popped a pickle into her mouth and said, “Would you mind putting them in my saddlebags, Rufus? I thought, while I was in town, I’d amble over and see how Ruby’s shop is coming along.”

  She was almost out of the store when Rufus found the courage to say, “Maybe you’d better stop by the marshal’s office first.”

  She heard a ripple of muted laughter from the cluster of women. She glanced their way, then turned toward Rufus. His face was beet red.

  “Why?” Her eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. “What’s happened?”

  “It’s your sister. She’s in jail for stealing Millie Potter’s jewelry.”

  In the time it took to reach Quent’s office, Diamond had muttered every rich, ripe swearword she’d ever learned from her father and his wranglers. And by the time she threw open the door and stormed inside, her temper was in full bloom.

  “Where’ve you got Ruby?” she demanded.

  Quent looked up from the papers littering his desk. “Back there.” He nodded toward the cells.

  She crossed the room and came to a halt at the door to the cell. Ruby stood just inside, spine stiff, head high. The bunk behind her wasn’t even wrinkled. It was obvious she was not about to give in and sit.

  Separated by bars, the two sisters faced each other.

  “All right, Ruby.” Diamond’s voice cut, sharp and deep. “The way I hear it, you stole from Millie Potter. At least, that’s what the townspeople are saying. Now I want to know what you have to say.”

  “I stole nothing. I have never even seen Millie Potter’s jewelry.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  Ruby’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Because that cochon of a marshal has decided to be both judge and jury. He hears only what he wishes to hear.”

  At his desk, Quent pretended to be busy concentrating on his papers. But he was listening intently. And every word spoken by Ruby was like a knife to his heart. How he wished he could believe her. He wanted to. Desperately. But the truth was, he could no longer trust himself or his judgment where Ruby Jewel was concerned.

  “I’ll listen,” Diamond said softly. “Just tell me the truth, Ruby. Did you go to Millie’s boardinghouse yesterday?”

  “Oui. I wanted her approval on my choice of lace before I started sewing her new tablecloth.”

  “Did you stay on the porch, or did you go inside?”

  “I went in.”

  “But you confined yourself to the kitchen,” Diamond said, hoping fervently that Ruby would answer in the affirmative.

  “I would have. How I wish I had. But Birdie sent me upstairs to find Millie. I laid out the lace on her bed. Then I suggested we take it downstairs so that she could see it in the dining room.”

  “Damn,” Diamond muttered. “And then?”

  Ruby shrugged. “She approved. I left. I was returning home when—” she glowered at Quent’s back “—I ran into the marshal and invited him over for supper and...other things.” She felt her cheeks redden at the thought of the things they’d shared. “A mistake I will not be foolish enough to make again.”

  Quent flinched.

  “And you didn’t see any jewelry while you were in Millie’s home?” Diamond asked.

  Ruby shook her head. “I was eager to show her the lace. I recall that the bed was covered by a threadbare quilt. I remember thinking that Millie saves all her good things for the paying customers. I had planned to surprise her with a new quilt, as payment for being my first customer.”

  “That was sweet, Ruby.”

  Quent found himself thinking the same thing. Now, who would have believed that she’d do such a nice thing, just to repay her first customer?

  “Can you tell me anything else about Millie’s room?” Diamond prodded.

  Ruby thought. “There is a dresser beneath the window. A table beside the bed, with a basin and pitcher of water. The curtains at the windows are as threadbare as the bedcover. The ends are ragged. I only noticed because they kept blowing in the breeze.”

  Hearing this, Quent’s head came up sharply. “You’re certain the curtains were blowing?”

  Ruby shot him a frigid look. To Diamond she said, “You may tell the marshal that I do not wish to speak to him. Ever again.”

  Swearing, he crossed the room and gripped the bars of her cell. “This is important, Ruby. Are you sure about the curtains blowing?”

  Instead of answering, she turned her back on him. “Diamond, I do not wish to dignify any of the marshal’s questions with a reply.”

  He spun away, snatched his hat from a hook on the wall and stormed out.

  “What could be so important about curtains blowing?” Diamond mused aloud.

  Ruby shrugged. “If he tries to blame me for the ragged state of Millie Potter’s curtains, I swear I will scratch out his eyes.”

  Diamond studied her half sister. Despite the dingy surroundings, Ruby held herself like a queen. But it was obvious that she was struggling to hide a case of nerves. Her hands were locked together, the knuckles white.

  Seeing the direction of Diamond’s gaze, Ruby unclenched her hands. But moments later her fingers began worrying a section of her skirt.

  “Seems to me you’re attaching a lot of importance to the marshal, Ruby. He’s just doing his job.”

  “His job is to find criminals, not to persecute the innocent. And I attach no importance to him. He means nothing to me. Nothing. He is as insignificant as—” She snapped her fingers “—that.”

  “Uh-huh.” Diamond remained unconvinced. She’d seen the look in Ruby’s eyes before she’d turned her back on the marshal. What was worse, she’d seen the same look in Quent’s eyes.

  The two of them were about as miserable as she and Adam had been, when they’d found themselves head over heels...

  Both young women looked up when Quent strode into the jail, followed by Millie Potter.

  Millie rushed to the cell and lifted her hand, opening it so that both Ruby and Diamond could see what she held.

  “Oh, Ruby,” she cried. “Please forgive me. But when I couldn’t find this...” Tears filled Millie’s eyes. But this time they were tears of joy.

  In her open palm a pretty bejeweled brooch caught and reflected the glittering sunlight streaming through the narrow window of the cell.

  “It was Quent who suggested I check the bottom edge of my curtains. And sure enough, there it was. Yesterday the wind must have whipped the curtains so hard that a jagged edge caught and snagged the brooch. By this morning the wind had died down, and the curtains were hanging limply. I might not have found my precious brooch ensnared in the hem for days if it hadn’t been for Quent.”

  Ruby was speechless.

  As for Diamond, she was so delighted, she hugged Millie Potter. “I’m so glad you found it, Millie. I know what a treasure this must be.” She turned to Quent. “I guess you’ll be releasing Ruby now.”

  He nodded. He’d been watching Ruby’s reaction. And he thought he’d detected tears. “If you two don’t mind, I’d like a minute alone with my...” He caught himself in time. He’d almost said prisoner. “With Ruby.”

  “I’ll be outside,” Diamond said.

  Before she took two steps, she popped a pickle into her mouth, then caught Millie’s arm. The two women exited together.

  When they were alone, Quent turned the key in the lock and opened the door of the cell. Before Ruby could leave, he barred the way.

  Knowing the others were just beyond the door, he kept his tone low. “I h
ope you’ll forgive me, Ruby. I know how much pain I’ve caused you by jumping to conclusions.”

  She was still too raw. The humiliation had been even greater this time, since it had been witnessed by half the town. She gritted her teeth. She would not give him the satisfaction of a single word.

  She tried to walk past him, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Don’t do this, Ruby. I need to know that I’m forgiven.”

  “You need?” Her voice was thick with anger. “And what about what I needed? I needed your trust. But you withheld it, choosing instead to believe the worst about me. And all the while I believed that you...cared for me.”

  “I do care for you, Ruby. Deeply. But you’d stolen trinkets once before. I caught you red-handed. Whether I care for you or not, I just figured...”

  “A cochon who does not trust me cannot claim to have feelings for me. Now step aside.”

  Reluctantly he did just that. But as she walked past him, he caught her gently by the arm. “I want to see you tonight. I need to.”

  She kept her face averted. “That is impossible.”

  He closed his other hand on her shoulder. “I hope, Ruby, in time, you’ll forgive me. I think you must have feelings for me, as well.”

  She shot him a look of cold fury. “Whatever feelings I had for you are gone. You shattered them with this clumsy display of authority.”

  He caught her chin, hoping to force her to look at him. “Don’t say that, Ruby. I know you still have feelings for me.”

  She refused to look at him. Instead, closing her eyes, she asked, “And why would you think such a ridiculous thing?”

  “Because of that French word you used. Cochon. Sounds like something a woman might say to a man she...cares about. What does it mean, anyway?”

  Now she did look at him. And there was a gleam in her eyes that would have warned him of her growing temper had he not been so distracted by guilt. “It means pig.”

  With her head high, her chin jutted at a dangerous angle, she swept past him and took her leave.