Letter Perfect ( Book #1) (38 page)

Josh stayed silent for a minute. He about left a groove in his tongue, biting it to keep from angrily accusing his father of deception. Instead, he quietly said, “Cullen O’Sullivan is dying. The family needs help.”

“Your mother died. No one helped us. I made her a promise that I’d take care of the two of you, and I did it on my own.”

“Dad, think of the few paltry dollars I spent on those canning supplies as an investment in Laney’s safety. It gave me an excuse to keep her far from home when you weren’t here to keep watch and safeguard her. I can’t very well run the ranch while sitting in the house, and I’m relying on you to scare off anyone who might harm either of the girls.”

The muscle in Dad’s jaw stopped twitching.

“I still can’t fathom why anyone hurt her, Dad. I’m glad you’re home. If anything more happens, we might have to send Laney away again.”

“We won’t have to do that. She’ll be fine. I’ll see to her.” He thumped the center of his chest. “I’ll see to both of the girls.”

Josh chuckled. “Ruth’s going to be harder to keep track of. She has a wild streak in her nature.”

“I’ll tame her.”

“She’s not a mustang that you have to break. Ruth has a mind of her own.”

McCain scowled. “She just proved that point. I told her to bring down the portfolio her lawyer brought. The girl thanked me, then said she’d handle things on her own. If she hadn’t already promised Laney that they’d spend the afternoon reading together, I would have had to get firm. Tomorrow—” His father made a fist and banged in on the top rail of the fence.

“She has plenty to live on for a long while. As for her investments— they’re back East. She decided before she came out here to leave them be. I doubt she’ll change her mind about that.”

“They’re going to war, son. She ought to cash out and reinvest here. There’s a railroad. The girl could make a tidy profit.”

“Her grief is still fresh. It’s hard enough on her to have moved such a distance. Give her time. Pressuring her will only make her dig in her heels.”

“Some opportunities demand that you invest immediately.”

Josh leaned into the fence. “Like what?”

“Things.” McCain turned his head and squinted into the distance. “Especially the stage and railroad.”

“I know we’re running a lean operation here—first years are always tight. But if you have a good prospect, we could look at the books and maybe budget for a wise investment.”
Lord, please have him
tell me he’s already done that. Let this whole thing be innocent
.

Dad shook his head. “But Ruth—she could sell her diamonds. I need to know how many she has and what they’re worth. She trusts you.”

But she doesn’t trust you. Neither do I—and for good cause.

When they’d been in the bank, Josh had seen his father’s eyes narrow and face darken when he pulled the velvet pouch of diamonds from his vest pocket at Ruth’s request. It stung Dad’s pride that she hadn’t asked him to safeguard her diamonds.

The bank president had the teller go fetch Folsom’s one and only jeweler. He’d arrived with his loupe and gone off to a corner desk to independently verify the certifications Ruth held. To Dad’s obvious frustration, neither the jeweler nor the bank president mentioned the number or value of the gems.

“Yes,” Dad said in an acid tone, “The girl trusts you.”

“I’ll be worthy of Ruth’s trust.”

“Is that to say I won’t?”

“I said no such thing. Dad, Ruth may or may not be a partner to us when it comes to the Broken P, but that business is separate from her personal finances. We have no reason to interfere.”

“She’s interfering! She gave Hilda money. Well, Hilda can just go to Ruth from now on to get her salary.”

“I’ve agreed to let you handle the finances, Dad, even though I’m a grown man and part of this ranch is mine. I can still allow for that, but I won’t stand for your putting this on Ruth. Hilda cooks, cleans, and does laundry for you and me and Laney. We’re paying her. If Ruth wants to reward her with extra pay—that’s Ruth’s business.” Thoroughly disgusted, Josh said, “I have things to do,” and walked away.

Having worn good clothes to town, Josh needed to change into his denim britches. Heading inside the house, he made an effort to shed his anger.
I’m not putting Laney or Hilda in the middle of this. It’s bad
enough that Ruth is wound up in the whole mess
.

“Ohhh,” he heard Laney say as he made it to the top of the landing. “Can you believe how wicked he is?”

“Keep reading!” Ruth urged.

“It’s dreadful. He’s putting rat poison in Arabella’s food!”

“Laney, read! You can’t leave me wondering what happens to the poor girl!”

Josh grinned. Dear Ruth—her enthusiasm was contagious. He stood and eavesdropped as Laney continued to read.

“ ‘Every day, William put more poison in her food. Soon Arabella had no ap-pet-ite. Appetite.”’

“Poor Arabella,” Ruth said. “Keep reading!”

“‘What little food Arabella ate rarely stayed down.”’

This story is rather gruesome
. Josh leaned against the wall and pictured Ruth and Laney side by side, poring over the pages of that silly dime novel. Ladies never discussed such distasteful realities. Reading such words no doubt shocked them, but his sister cleared her throat and kept reading.

“‘Or it went through her far too fast.”’ Laney gasped. “Oh my.”

Josh’s brows rose. He hadn’t expected a dime novel to be quite so descriptive. He’d considered the attorney to be a good man, but if this book he’d given the girls grew any more raw, Josh would walk in and take it away.

“Here. It’s your page,” Laney said.

Ruth’s voice took over. “‘Sores in her little bow-shaped mouth plagued Arabella.”’

Josh’s heart began to pound as he suddenly recalled Alan Caldwell’s condition. Alan had suffered from a poor appetite, and what little he ate came back up or went through him far too fast. He’d developed sores in his mouth, too.

Oblivious to his eavesdropping, Ruth read, “‘The beautiful porcelain complexion she once delighted in turned sallow.”’

Alan’s skin went a sickly shade of yellow. Doc called it jaundice
. Thoughts flew through Josh’s mind.
There must be several maladies that
hold those complaints in common
.

“‘Arabella dwindled into near nothingness. She’d never been guilty of vanity, but even a mere glimpse in the mirror told her how pitiful she’d grown. Desolate, she ordered her maid to hang a towel over the mirror.”’

Alan grew impossibly gaunt and weak
.

“‘William sprinkled the dull gray powder on her food and mixed it with glee. Wiping Arabella’s cold, damp brow, he urged, “Another bite, darling.” Scarcely could she obey.”’

“What are you waiting for?” Laney half shrieked. “Hurry!”

Alan was cold and clammy
.

Ruth’s voice continued, but Josh went into his room and changed.
Alan could have turned yellow from all of his years of drinking. But
why would that happen almost two years after he’d given up alcohol? And who
would have wanted to harm him? They couldn’t have—not really. We all ate
the same food. Anyone who’s been ailing for months on end becomes weak and
thin. I’m like a spooked animal that jumps at every sound. It’s nothing
.

For the remainder of the day, Josh couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. After supper, he went out to the stable to check on the newest foal. Laney and Ruth joined him. “No feeding them treats,” he scolded Ruth. “If the mama wants anything, I’ll get her some oats.”

Ruth’s beautiful eyes sparkled. “You may as well get those oats.”

“Left to your own devices, you’d probably feed them half of the O’Sullivans’ vegetable patch.”

Leaning toward him, Ruth said in a loud whisper, “Only the cabbage, so Hilda wouldn’t make you-know-what.”

“That’s a good idea!” Laney brightened up. “Do horses eat cabbage?”

“Absolutely not. If either of you comes anywhere near the horses with cabbage, you’ll be permanently banned from the stable.”

“Oh, poor baby!” Ruth half skipped to the nearest stall. “Don’t let mean old Josh scare you. Josh, shame on you. This poor little pony ran and hid behind his mama when you got mad.”

“She’s been skittish since the minute her hooves hit the ground. I’m afraid she’s going to be high-strung. Pretty little thing, though, isn’t she?”

Laney slid up on his other side. “Oh, Josh! Those black splotches make her look as if she’s wearing spectacles.”

“I hadn’t come up with a name yet. Spectacle. Sorta fits, don’t you think?”

“I think Laney’s very clever,” Ruth said. She tugged on his sleeve. “And I think this mama needs oats.”

“Okay. The two of you stay on this side of the stall. I’ll go get mama a treat.” Josh went through the connecting door. Dim as it was, he lit a lantern and set it on the table.

The outside door opened. Toledo stuck his head in. “Oh, it’s you, Boss. I saw the light and hoped the villain returned to the scene of the crime.”

“Nah. I’m grabbing a scoop of oats as a treat for Prance.” He took the grain scoop off the nail on the wall.

“Forgot I used the last of ’em.” Toledo drew closer. “I’ll refill the bin.” He hoisted a new bag of oats into the bin, then yanked a knife from his belt sheath and sliced it open. “Been thinkin’.”

Toledo slid the knife back into the sheath. “Laney and Ruth’s riding skirts match.”

“Yes.”

“Maybe Ruth was supposed to be the victim.”

The grain scoop stopped midair. Josh stared at Toledo.

“Could be I’m wrong. Bears thinkin’ on, though.”

“It does.” Josh measured out a scoop of oats and dumped them into a bucket. A strong nudge of his hip sent the bin back in place. It took two tries before he hooked the scoop back on the wall. When he went back to the other side of the stable, the girls were gone.

“Ruth! Laney!” He struggled to keep the panic from his voice.

Ruth popped up. “Over here, Josh. You won’t believe it. They’re so cute!”

He wasn’t sure whether to whoop for joy that they were all right or growl at them for having moved and scared him out of his wits. “What’s so cute?”

“The foal’s not the only baby, Josh,” Laney said softly. “The calico had a litter. She has six tiny little babies.”

Josh strode over and hunkered down. “I don’t believe it.”

“What?”

“She’s ruined your saddle blanket, Ruth.”

Ruth laughed. “So what? It’s for a good cause. Just the joy of seeing a mama cat all safe and happy with her bitty kittens is more than worth it.”

“Ruth loves baby animals,” Laney said. “Why, when the latch on the pigsty broke and Ruth fell in, she didn’t get the least bit upset with the sow for coming after her. I would have perished from fright, but Ruth tromped back in the house, calm as you please.”

“Covered in slop,” Ruth tacked on.

“I never heard a word about that.”

Ruth folded her arms about her ribs. “I didn’t want to announce I’d made another mess. I couldn’t very well blame the sow for protecting her piglets. Laney and I nailed the latch back on the sty, so it’s all taken care of. Did you get the oats?”

“Yeah. Soon as the mare gets them, I’ll walk you girls back to the house.”

“There’s no need, Josh.”

“I insist.”

When they reached the house, he stopped Ruth. “I’d like a minute alone with you.”

“As you wish.” She wandered over to the wicker porch furniture and took a seat.

Josh sat across from her, leaned forward with his forearms on his knees, and said, “Ruth, we take excellent care of the animals here.”

“I’m so glad you do. You’re most diligent.”

“Then you can stop worrying.”

Her face mirrored her confusion.

Josh reached over and covered her hand with his. He fought the urge to grin. She had a tiny dot of something red and sticky on the back of her hand—most likely from the cherry she dropped from her pie after supper. He’d seen it roll off the table, and she’d quickly looked about to see if anyone witnessed that faux pas. Very slowly, he winked, and she’d bitten her lower lip to keep from laughing. He hadn’t realized the cherry glanced off her when it fell.

“I don’t understand, Josh.”

“I do, though. Ruth, you love baby animals.”

She nodded. Her curls sprang to life with the move.

“You love the mother animals, too. You try to give them treats and make them happy and comfortable.”

“They deserve it.”

“Honey, you did the same thing for your mother, didn’t you? Babied her, coaxed her to eat by giving her little treats, and—aww, Ruthie.”

She pulled her hand away and searched in vain for a hanky. Josh pulled out his bandana and gently wiped her tears. “It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to cry, too. Just know this, Ruthie: I’ve seen how sweet you’ve been to my sister, and she was a stranger. I’m positive you lavished your mother with loving attention.”

“I was such a disappointment,” Ruth whispered tearfully.

“You couldn’t ever be a disappointment.”

Ruth closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. “Mama was beautiful.” She practically twisted the bandana into a knot, and her shoulders jerked. “H-h-er hair was sleek and stayed in p-place.” Again, her shoulders jerked, but this time a strangled
hic
accompanied the motion. Ruth’s eyes opened. Tears glossed them, and her voice cracked with grief, “She handled every
hic
situation
hic
with poise. I wanted to be
hic
like her. But I couldn’t.”

“Of course you couldn’t. God made you to be yourself. He counted the hairs on your head—”

Hic
“It would have been easier on Him
hic
if they were all straight!” She crushed the bandana to her mouth. “I always say the wrong thing.”

“No, you don’t. You speak from the heart. I’d rather hear a harsh truth than a pretty lie any day.” He stared into her glossy eyes.
Lord, help her to see herself as you and I do
.

Immediately a verse came to him, and he spoke it aloud. “‘Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.’ Ruth, there’s a whole symphony out there—but the players only care about themselves and making impressions on others. Your open-hearted honesty is precious to God. It’s precious to me as well. Never apologize for staying true to who God created you to be.”