Letter Perfect ( Book #1) (24 page)

“Laney and I wanted to wear them on the same day.”

“And you still can. Just not today.”

“You can switch into something else once we get home. No one will see you, so we can be alike tomorrow.” Laney set down the wheelbarrow by the house.

As plans went, it all sounded good. Ruth dusted most of the dirt from her shirtwaist and changed into the brown paisley. Catching her reflection in a mirror as she came out from behind the screen, she groaned. The sunbonnet had slipped to and fro a little, and as a result her hairpins all worked loose. Ringlets sprang from her in wild profusion.

Mr. O’Sullivan let out a rusty chuckle from the bed. “Oh, lass. You look like you suffered a terrible fright!”

“Cullen O’Sullivan!” his wife chided.

“He told the unvarnished truth.” Ruth started stabbing the pins back in. They escaped as quickly as she tried to anchor them.

“Here. Let me help.” Laney stood on tiptoe and gathered Ruth’s hair. A twist here and a pin there, and in a matter of a few moments, she’d arranged the disorderly mass into something quite passable.

“Thank you.” Ruth gave her a hug.

“You lasses take this bag back home now. I’m sure Hilda can use some fresh vegetables.” Mrs. O’Sullivan set a bulging flour sack on the table. “Laney, I rolled your riding skirt up tight as can be and put it in this second bag. That way, no one’ll see it till you and Ruth traipse downstairs, matching like a chipper pair of wee sparrows.”

For once, Ruth lagged behind as they returned to the Broken P.

Lord, I know I’m supposed to have a humble spirit. I’m bad about that. You
know I am. I don’t want to have Josh boss me around and ruin the library. It’s
such a special notion. I’m sure you put it in my mind. Your Word says to honor
my father and mother—well, I didn’t really know my father, but Mama … a
library is such a perfect tribute to her
.

“Ruth?”

“Yes, Laney?”

“Did you see that paper at Galen’s house?”

“I didn’t pay much attention. Why?”

Laney turned in her saddle. Her eyes were wide and earnest.

“There’s a novel that costs only a dime. I was thinking if it is only that much, it must be small and not so hard to read. What do you think?”

“I think since you spotted the article and read it that well, we ought to buy the book for you at once.” Ruth smiled broadly. “In fact, to celebrate, we’re going to order it and have it come by Pony Express so it’ll get here right away.”

“That’s too expensive!”

“Ha! I’m so proud of you, I could shout. You deserve that book, and I’ll do whatever I need to in order for you to have it as quickly as possible. You can’t turn me down, Laney. It’s rude to refuse a gift.”

“Every once in a while, someone’s given me a book, but I never appreciated them because I felt like a liar for saying I was thankful when I didn’t want it. It was embarrassing not to be able to read. This is the first time I’ll get a book and actually enjoy it.”

Ruth laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m laughing with joy for your accomplishment, but I’m also thinking that we asked God to help you learn to read, even though you disliked it.”

“God has been faithful, hasn’t He?”

“Absolutely. And I’m thankful to Him for that … but here we are, taking home cabbage.” Ruth scrunched her face into a displeased pucker. “I’m not going to pray that Hilda makes sauerkraut, because it would take more than a miracle to make me enjoy a single mouthful.”

Giggles spilled out of Laney. “Oh, Ruth, I’m so glad you’re here. I haven’t been this happy in a long, long time. I always wanted a sister, and having you here is like a dream come true.”

“I wished I had a sister, too.”

“Won’t it be fun to wear our matching riding skirts tomorrow? At school, there was a pair of sisters whose clothes sometimes matched. I thought they were darling.”

“You’d look darling in a burlap bag,” Ruth said as they reached the stable. Felipe started unsaddling the horses as they headed back toward the house.

Ruth fought the urge to drag her feet. Doing so wouldn’t change things. She’d still have to sit across the supper table from Josh, knowing full well from the thunderous expression on his face and terse responses that he was still angry about her planning the library.

I’m in California. I can buy land and hire someone to build on it. I can
handle money for myself. It’ll be months before my books arrive, and I don’t
know when Mama’s estate will finish settling. Until then, I can start planning.
Just making the list of books brought back so many memories of Mama reading
to me or our sharing a book and discussing it together. I’d hoped Josh would be
pleased. Working on the project together would have been a lot of fun. I didn’t
realize how much I wanted his help. I need a man’s viewpoint, and Josh is a
man’s man—he works harder than anyone I’ve ever met; yet as Mrs. O’Sullivan
said, he walks close to the Lord. He’s intelligent and very well read, too
. She sighed.
But if he wants to turn his back on the library, I’ll do it on my own
.

“Oh, fiddlesticks!”

Ruth snapped out of her thoughts and looked around. “What’s the matter?”

Laney tilted her head toward the house. “Daddy’s talking to Josh and Toledo on the veranda.”

“He’s smoking. I thought you wanted him to take his cigars outside.”

Laney pouted, “But everyone will see your skirt.”

Ruth shrugged. “So what? No one will know about yours until tomorrow.”

“What’ve you girls got there?” McCain called to them.

“Vegetables,” Ruth called back.

Josh curled his hands around the railing and leaned forward. Pasting on a ferocious look, he focused on Ruth. “You’re not planning to go feed one of my broodmares, are you?”

Ruth skipped ahead. “Do we have another new baby?”

“Any day now.” He straightened up and shook his finger at them. “But you stay out of the stable. I’ll take you out to see the foal when it’s safe.”

McCain squinted at the burlap sack, then directed his attention to Laney. “If there’s cabbage in there, when you take it in to Hilda, you tell her I want coleslaw.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

As they opened the back door to the kitchen, Laney whispered, “He hates sauerkraut, too.”

The girls went into the house, and Josh turned to Toledo. “Tell me more.”

“Not much more to say. Butterfield Stage and the railroad are both nosing around. Railroad wants to cross the Sierras. Depends on who’s jawin’ as to whether Butterfield wants to go east-west or north-south.”

“Pony Express runs straight through the O’Sullivans’ and cuts a swath through our land. I’d expect the railroad to do the same,” Josh said.

Dad leaned forward. “And if they did?”

“I’d have to think on it.”

“I wouldn’t.” Dad sat back. He took a long draw off his cigar, then let out a steady stream of smoke. “Best thing that could happen to us. Land value goes up, and we’d have it easy getting the cattle to market.”

“We’d lose cattle. Train would hit ’em. Either that, or it’ll be the end of free-ranging.”

“It’d take miles of fences,” Toledo drawled.

“A lot of money and man-hours, too.”

Dad puffed again. “The money the railroad will pay would more than cover those costs.”

Toledo shrugged. “Just thought you’d wanna know what I heard.”

“Appreciate it,” Josh said.

As the hand sauntered off, Josh said, “Dad, you’re making no sense. In one conversation, you think the Pony Express is a folly. Now you support a transcontinental railroad. You wanted California to stay out of the North-South fray, but a railroad would inevitably force our state to become involved.”

“There’s a difference between ideals and practicality.”

“Well, at this point, it’s just talk. Plenty of schemes fall by the wayside.” Josh stood.

“Mark my words, son. It’s more than just talk. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard something.”

“Even if it pans out, there have to be a hundred different routes. There’s no reason to believe the Broken P lies directly in line with the path they choose.”

“And if it is?” Dad pressed.

“If it comes up, we’ll talk it over.”

“Times come when a decision has to be made. If I’m present, I’ll agree.”

Josh jerked his thumb toward the house. “Ruth might own half. If so, you can’t sign anything without her agreement.”

“She complicates things.” Dad scowled.

“Hey, Josh!” Felipe hollered from the pasture. “I think we’d best get Bayside into the stable.”

“Yeah?” Dad stubbed out his cigar and walked alongside Josh. “That mare’s going to put off a fine foal.”

“This birthing better go smoother than her last.” Josh grimaced. “She throws a good foal, but she throws a fit having it.”

Felipe handed Josh a rope. “She won’t let me near her.”

“I put her in the birthing stall two days ago when she started waxing. I wanted her used to her surroundings. Why’s she out?”

Dad cleared his throat. “I let her out. She needed to have fresh grass.”

Saying anything more with Felipe present would be a mistake, so Josh clamped his jaw shut, fashioned a rope halter, and approached the mare. It took considerable sweet talking, but she allowed him to draw near and lead her into the stall.

The next morning, Josh stretched to ease his tired muscles. It had been a long night—but a worthwhile one. Bayside nosed and licked her pretty, wobbly-legged foal.

“How’d the little one end up with a blaze and stockings?” Dad wondered aloud. “I thought Copper sired him.”

“No, Barry did.” He reached over, picked up a stone-cold biscuit and popped it into his mouth.

“You can’t be hungry still.” Dad slanted him a look. “Ruth brought out enough food for an army.”

“She did.” Josh grinned. Never before had someone knocked on the barn door, but Ruth did just that two hours earlier. He’d grabbed the heavily-laden breakfast tray, then shut the door with a terse, “Thanks.”

Dad jerked his chin toward the foal. “That gal was itching to come take a peek.”

“She has atrocious timing.”

“So I noticed,” Dad said wryly. “At least Laney knows better than to gallop out here.”

“I’ll probably bring the girls out after supper tonight. For now, I’ll carry the tray back to the house and make the mash for our new mama.”

“Go on ahead.” Dad leaned against a post. “I’ll stick around and enjoy the sight.”

“Fine.” Josh toted the tray back toward the house. All around him, life teemed. Birds sang, cows lowed, and horses in the paddock frolicked. When Dad first showed him the ranch, Josh felt sure they’d never whip it into this shape. Mornings like this made every drop of sweat more than worth it. Well, almost. If Ruth’s claim prevailed, it would be a terrible blow.

The kitchen door opened. The woman he’d been thinking about poked out her head. “Josh, have you seen your sister?”

“No.” He shouldered past her and set the tray on the drain board.

“I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t find her.”

“The door on the springhouse sometimes sticks. Could be she’s trapped.”

Ruth shook her head. “I checked there. I even thought maybe she decided to go to the Fishers’ with Hilda.”

“Probably did. Ada Fisher had her baby last week.” He checked to be sure the stove was still hot so he could heat the bran mash for the mare. “Laney’s been eager to pay them a visit.”

“She couldn’t have gone there. The pretty little gowns we’ve stitched for the baby are still upstairs.”

Lifting his palms in a who-knows gesture, Josh headed back out. “She’ll turn up. Laney’s a homebody.”

“That’s why I’m worried!” The closing door muffled whatever else Ruth had to say.

Josh hadn’t meant to be rude, but he’d be back in the kitchen in a few minutes. Most likely she would show up during his absence. He strode toward the far side of the stable.

Originally, the building had been a combination bunkhouse/ barn. As the ranch grew, a new bunkhouse went up and the vacated side became a tack room, the feed storage area, and the place where they garaged the buckboard.

Josh pushed the door wide open. The place tended to be dark. Stepping inside, he grabbed a tin bucket and headed toward the feed. Suddenly he dropped the pail. It rolled away, making racket as he rushed ahead. “Laney!”