Letter Perfect ( Book #1) (8 page)
“That’s not necessary.” Ruth pivoted from one side to the other, causing her skirts to swish about her ankles in an unmistakably feminine whisper. “This chamber gets pleasant sunshine and is quite spacious.”
“Nonsense!” Laney pattered over to the window. “We need to hang some curtains—eyelet, I think.”
“I’m sure whatever curtains used to be on the rod will still serve nicely.”
Laney huffed. “Your father loved the sun. He took the curtains out of here.”
“This was my father’s room?” Ruth’s face lit up. “How kind of you, Josh, to think to put me here.”
“Your smile looks like your father’s,” Josh said. The second he voiced that thought, he could see how pleased Ruth was to hear it.
“Only much prettier,” Laney tacked on. “Alan looked like a raisin—but the lines were all happy ones that crinkled around his eyes and mouth.”
“You cannot possibly imagine how much I’d like to have you share your memories of my father.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Laney winced. “As long as you take down that stupid picture of a rooster on a fence over your bed.”
Laughter bubbled out of Ruth. It took a moment before she thought to hold a hand up to mute the sound or hide her open mouth. Her mirth pleased Josh. She’d been so somber since he’d met her—this was his first glimpse that she might have a sense of humor. If she did, it would make life a heap easier.
“I knew it!” Laney bobbed her head. “Josh, you’ll have to tell Daddy we need to go shopping.”
“It’s not necessary. Truly, it’s not.” Ruth tilted her head toward one of the trunks. “I brought my paints. I can replace the picture.”
Well, well. Miss Ruth Caldwell might not be such a bother after all. She didn’t seem to be very demanding.
“Oh, I love to paint!” Laney grabbed Ruth’s hands. “We can spend our mornings painting together!”
That cinched it. Laney hadn’t looked this enthusiastic or happy in months. The girls had something in common. Perhaps Laney hit the nail on the head—that God sent Ruth as an answer to prayer. Maybe this was really going to work out.
S
he was going to get him killed. Josh pushed Ruth against the wall and sandwiched her there with his back so if the mare kicked again, he’d take the brunt of it. “Whoa, girl. It’s fine. You’re fine.”
“I’m not fine.” Ruth poked him in the ribs. “You’re squishing me.”
“There’s your baby.” He kept a soothing stream of words going as he slowly dragged Ruth toward the gate to the foaling stall. He hoped she’d unlatch it and get out… .
Only that’s hoping for more sense
than she has
.
“It’s okay, girl.” Josh nickered softly, moved slowly, and stayed vigilant. To his relief, he heard the latch on the gate scrape free.
“Got her, Josh,” Felipe said.
Josh’s relief disappeared an instant later when Ruth kept a handful of his shirt and dragged him backward, too. He reached around and manacled her wrist. A quick, hard squeeze, then he let go. To his relief, she got the message and turned loose of him. Though set free, he didn’t move a muscle. The gate shut behind him, and he stayed put. Humming, talking, remaining still, he coaxed Maxie to calm down.
The wobbly-legged foal tried to nurse, but Maxie nosed her away. Josh’s heart dropped to his boots. The last thing he needed was for the already high-strung mare to reject her foal because Ruth took a mind to barge in where she didn’t belong.
“Hey now. No use getting upset. Everything’s fine.”
From the corner of his eye he could see the back of Ruth’s slim hand and puffy golden yellow sleeve come over the stall.
Slowly, he reached up and tried to shove it back, only she tucked a carrot into his hand and pulled her arm back of her own accord.
Maxie’s ears twitched. She’d spied the carrot, and though she’d been given a fine warm bran mash after foaling late last night, that carrot caught her fancy. Now having someone in her foaling stall didn’t seem to be so offensive. Josh broke it into pieces and offered a small section in the palm of his hand.
All of a sudden, Maxie turned sociable. She lipped the carrot, backed up a step, and downed the treat. It didn’t escape Josh’s notice how she’d put herself between him and the foal. That was a good sign. Right about now, he’d gladly accept any scrap of positive news.
He waited until Maxie snorted, then gave her another segment of the carrot. Bite by bite, he regained her cooperation, if not her trust. After giving her the last chunk, Josh figured he’d done about all he could—but Ruth seemingly disagreed. Her hand slipped over the stall again, this time with an apple. Where had she gotten these?
Maxie didn’t care where the food came from. She loved apples. The fruit barely landed in Josh’s hand before the mare swiped it.
Josh didn’t cotton to the notion that a prize-winning broodmare ate this stuff. What she needed was fresh, green grass. Plenty of water. Oats for a treat. Then again, he didn’t dare try to wrestle the horse for the apple or turn to chide Ruth. Calm. Keeping calm and getting Maxie to stay tranquil—those were the most important things.
Smacking her lips, Maxie came back for more. “Greedy mama,” Josh said in a low, humored tone.
Ruth’s arm slid over the stall again. Dirt streaked the sleeve, but her hand stayed steady as could be as the mare approached and lipped the biggest lump of sugar Josh had ever seen from her palm.
What’s next?
His stomach growled.
Gravy and biscuits?
He couldn’t fathom how Ruth produced all of that food.
But the foal approached Maxie, nudged up close, and started to nurse. Josh held his breath. Maxie allowed it. For having been in a rampaging rage just minutes earlier, the change was nothing short of a miracle. Well, maybe not a miracle, but the result of some hefty bribery. But it worked.
He sidled out of the stall, latched the gate, and turned toward Ruth. A few bits of hay littered her hem—but the skirts fluffed out from a plethora of petticoats and lacked hoops that would have made this whole episode a disaster. Dirt streaked the yellow bodice and sleeves of her city-pretty dress. Her hair straggled out of the pins, springing into touch-me curls all around her face, and the maddening woman had the unmitigated gall to wear an apologetic smile. “Please, let’s not argue in front of her. I already upset her once.”
“I’d call that belated good sense.” Toledo dropped the bale of hay he’d carried over.
Josh shot the ranch hand a quelling look, then grabbed Ruth’s arm and led her out of the stable. “You don’t belong in here.”
“Why not?” She stopped in a banner of early morning sunlight that turned her escapee tresses into spirals of glinting gold.
“Why not?” He couldn’t believe she’d challenged his edict. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Because you practically got yourself kicked. Maxie could trample you in an instant. No one goes near a mare and her foal without good cause.”
“I was trying to make friends.”
“Friends.” He caught himself repeating her words as if he’d been kicked in the head. “Miss Caldwell—”
“Ruth,” she reminded him with a smile that was altogether too attractive.
He refused to be charmed. “Ruth, you could have gotten yourself maimed or killed. You upset a prized mare so badly, she nearly rejected her foal. I can’t have you in there. You’ll do irreparable damage if you don’t get yourself killed.”
“Are you telling me the animals on this farm aren’t domesticated enough to be safe?”
“This is a ranch, not a farm.”
“Thank you for reminding me of that.” The crazy woman continued to smile at him. “But aren’t the animals friendly?”
“These aren’t pets.” He sighed. “They’re either work animals or food.”
“But we treat them kindly on the Broken P, don’t we?”
The pronoun she used struck him; she sure hadn’t hesitated to claim what was hers. That whole issue rankled. He snapped, “Of course.”
“I wanted to get a basic idea as to where everything was, so that when we discussed my chores, I’d know where to go.”
“Chores?” Josh barely choked back his laugh of disbelief. “What do you think you’d be capable of doing?”
“I’m good with birds. Perhaps I could tend the chickens if you show me what to do.”
“Chickens aren’t kept in the stable.”
Her eyes widened and she burst out laughing. When she covered her mouth, Josh noted that her fingers weren’t clean. He couldn’t help wondering how often Ruth had to wash her hands and face and change her clothes—the woman possessed the singular habit of getting dirty. Laney always looked as if she’d stepped out of her
Godey’s Ladies’ Book
. He wondered who would rub off on whom. Then again, he didn’t. In a way, he wouldn’t mind seeing Laney a little less starchy.
He took out his bandana and wiped a smudge from Ruth’s cheek. “When you go to town to shop, you’d better buy material for more dresses—ones for ranch living.”
“You’re so very kind to suggest that, but it’s unnecessary.” She took the bandana from him and used it to dust off her sleeve—to no avail. “I promised Mama I wouldn’t wear mourning.”
“I couldn’t care less if you don’t wear black. Color is fine.”
“My gowns are made of material that employs the new colorfast aniline dyes. They all wash and won’t fade.” She cast a glance back toward the house. “If your concern is about the style, your sister wears full skirts, too.”
“Laney wouldn’t dream of coming out to the stable.”
Ruth’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t suppose she would. Just spending last evening with her convinced me she’s a perfect lady. I may as well confess so you don’t have to make the disappointing discovery for yourself: I can’t seem to mind all of the rules for young ladies.”
“The rules that matter most around here are the ones I set.”
“I’ll do my best to follow them, but my curiosity is insatiable. I’ll go where I’m not supposed to—”
“Thanks for the warning, but I figured that out after that debacle just now.”
She compressed her lips, then added, “Whilst I’m confessing, I may as well lay all of my flaws before you, so you’re forewarned: I have a tendency to speak my mind when I ought to hold my tongue, and I invent ways to get into trouble.”
“Is that so?”
Slowly, she nodded. “One headmistress declared I’d try even Job’s patience.”
Her apologetic smile and guileless eyes proclaimed she’d told the truth, but an underlying sadness seeped through the words. Josh realized the admission hadn’t been easy. Then again, he wished it weren’t true. With “recommendations” like that, this young woman would prove to be more of a liability than he wanted around.
“It’s plain to see ranching is hard work and there’s plenty to get done, Josh. I’m not about to sit on the veranda and watch you and the hands do it all. I want to do my fair share.”
“Impossible.”
“Josh—”
He loomed over her and growled, “Dad knew what he was doing, and he busted his arm out here. You’re liable to kill yourself or get someone else killed when they try to save you. Make no mistake about it, Ruth Caldwell—this is a man’s world.”
“Surely there are things a woman could do.”
“Nope.”
The corners of her mouth tightened in exasperation. “Did I catch you at a bad time, or are you always this stubborn?”
“When it comes to safety issues, I’m unyielding.”
“Then it makes perfect sense for us to decide how I can pull my weight around here.”
She looked entirely too satisfied with herself, and Josh failed to see the logic of her comment. He would tell her so, too.
“By giving me specific chores, I’ll be so busy, I won’t get into … situations.” Her rationale made him want to groan; yet she continued on as if he not only understood, but was in complete agreement with her. “With all there is to accomplish, there must be many responsibilities I can shoulder.”
“Like what?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Chicken tending, for one thing.”
“Chicken tending.”
There I go again, repeating her words. But only a
city gal would even concoct such a term
. “I suppose we could arrange some of that.”
And only that. Nothing more. If it salves your pride, then I’ll grant
you that one chore
.
“What else?” she pursued eagerly.
“More than anything, Laney needs your attention. When Mom passed away, Dad sent her back East to a finishing school. He brought her home just over a year ago, and she’s been lonely. I know she’s looking forward to painting with you.”
“Oh. Was I being obtuse? When you suggested buying fabric, I assumed you meant my clothing might be unsuitable. If your sister enjoys sewing, I’d be happy to play along with your plan.”
“I hold no doubt that you’ll need more dresses.”
Yesterday you
spilled water all over yourself, and today you’ve gotten dirt everywhere. It’s a
wonder you only brought two trunks
.
“What about your sister?”
“My sister could probably use a new one or two, herself.” He nodded at that brilliant plan. It would keep them together and Ruth out of his way.
While he was at it, he might as well toss a few other projects her way to add time and distance. “Laney mentioned curtains for your room. She spent a lot of time and attention on her own bedchamber and is rightly proud of the results. I don’t doubt for a moment that stitching curtains and painting your walls would give her considerable satisfaction.”