Pearl (39 page)
Something was going on.
No one was saying anything, but something inside Ruby sensed it. Did the others know and weren’t telling her? What made her think that? How she wished she knew. She leaned against the post on the porch.
Why does there have to be a killing frost before Indian summer?
Another one of those questions without answers.
She stared out at the brown cornstalks, the blackened tomato and pumpkin vines. Mute testimony to the frigid nights, but now the balmy days. Ducks and geese flying south, Charlie smoking the carcasses while Daisy stuffed the feathers into quilts and feather beds. Preparing for winter, that’s what this time was for.
But not this feeling, as if she’d caught an echo, a reflection, but of such a minute trace that all she was left with was this disquietude.
Restlessness. That’s what it was. But why? Always back to those questions of why, what, and who?
Ruby returned to the kitchen, which she had to herself for a change. Milly was out washing linens, the
kerthunk
of the sewing machine attested to Cimarron’s whereabouts, and Daisy would be at her ironing board. She could hear the hum from the classroom that said Pearl was busy instilling knowledge in the heads of her pupils. After church the families had praised Miss Hoss- fuss as high as the bluffs and rock formations that made up the badlands.
Sure hope they paid her,
Ruby thought as she stirred the coals and put two pieces of wood in the firebox. Maybe mixing up a cake would help quiet her restlessness. While the oven heated, she got out the ingredients and began creaming the butter and sugar together with her wooden spoon. Tonight they were having fried chicken because Charlie had butchered the first of their spring-hatch roosters. With it taking four chickens to feed the guests and walk-ins, they would need far more than they had to get through the winter. By keeping the pullets, they doubled their flock.
While her hands went about adding the eggs, beating, and then adding the rest of the ingredients, her mind went back to the puzzle. Should she have a talk with Belle? When she’d had this feeling before, Belle was always somehow involved.
After testing the temperature of the oven—it felt hot enough—she slid the cake pan in and ambled into the dining room to check for mail at the counter where Charlie always laid it.
A letter addressed to the proprietor of Dove House made her lay the other things on the counter and open this one.
To Whom It May Concern
. Her attention returned to the gilt letterhead. Theodore Roosevelt and a New York address. Back to the body.
I will be arriving in Little Missouri on September 20, 1883, for an indeterminate stay. I will require lodging and meals, and though I will be hunting and camping for most of the time, I will pay you for the room. Please advise me if this is a possibility. If your hotel has no room, would you please recommend another hotel?
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Theodore R. Roosevelt.
Recommend another place? As if anyone with a lick of sense would stay at Mrs. McGeeney’s, poor fare compared to Dove House. Unless, of course, one did not mind sharing a bed with various vermin.
She sat down and shook the ink bottle, wishing she had a letterhead for Dove House. Now wouldn’t that be uppity.
Dear Mr. Roosevelt,
I will hold a room for you beginning on September 20. Since
our space is limited and we will be turning away paying customers,
I shall have to charge you the room rate whether you are here or
not
.
She rubbed the end of the pen bib on her chin. Charging him if he hadn’t yet arrived took a lot of nerve. But then, she’d turned enough people away that she knew how difficult it would be for him to find a room anywhere else.
Dove House is the finest establishment in Dakotah Territory
west of Bismarck
.
She thought about leaving out the last three words, but honesty wouldn’t allow it.
Sincerely,
Miss Ruby Torvald, Proprietor
She hadn’t quoted him a price, but then he had not asked.
She let the ink dry while addressing the envelope and made a note on the calendar. She had only two rooms that weren’t taken by local workers. And Belle’s. It was time to talk to Belle about the rate increase.
Taking all her courage in hand, she mounted the stairs. Halfway up, she remembered the cake in the oven and went to check it.
‘‘Smells mighty good in there,’’ Cimarron called from the storeroom. ‘‘I suppose it is for supper.’’
‘‘Unless you want to bake another, which we probably should do anyway.’’ To keep up with all these people, they needed another stove.
‘‘I could do that.’’ Cimarron came out of the storeroom rubbing and stretching her neck.
‘‘Good, then let’s have a piece.’’ Anything to keep from climbing those stairs.
‘‘My, that smells good.’’ Milly came in with a laundry basket full of folded sheets. She set it on a stool and rubbed her back. ‘‘That thing just gets heavier and heavier.’’
‘‘Don’t put so many in it.’’ Daisy pulled a chair out from the table. ‘‘I’m going to ask Charlie to build me a high stool for ironing. Changing off would make it easier, I think.’’
‘‘Good idea.’’ Ruby handed out plates of cake with cream drizzled over the top while Cimarron poured the coffee. ‘‘What’s Charlie doing?’’
‘‘He went fishing. Took the shotgun to get more ducks and geese if he can. Said he’d be back by dark. Think he plans to smoke the fish too.’’
‘‘Good.’’ Ruby told them about the letter from Mr. Roosevelt asking for a room. ‘‘So we have to keep one open starting that day.’’
‘‘People writin’ clear from New York for a room. If that ain’t somethin’.’’ Daisy made a tsking sound.
A burst of laughter and shouting told them school had just been dismissed.
‘‘You better set up for Opal and Pearl.’’ Ruby took her courage back out of her pocket and set it firmly in place. ‘‘Oh, and tell Pearl there is a letter for her.’’
This time she took the back stairs, since they were closer. Knocking on Belle’s door, she could smell the cigarillo smoke. She knocked again and was about to turn away in relief when she heard Belle muttering. The door opened a crack.
‘‘What do you want?’’
Ruby debated. Beard the lion in her den now or come back later when she might be in a better mood? ‘‘I need to talk with you.’’
‘‘Can it wait until later? I have a splitting headache.’’
‘‘Can I get you something? Coffee? Food?’’ Only no more booze. The smell about knocked Ruby over.
‘‘Coffee would be good. Let me get myself in order some.’’ She shut the door.
Well, that’s some deal. Ruby spun and headed back downstairs, working up a head of steam with every step.
I own this
hotel, yet she treats me like her hired help. I never treat my hired help
that way. What is the matter with her? You know what’s the matter—
she’s been drinking. So how often is she like this? We never know because
she never comes down except for meals, and lots of times she does that at
odd hours and just picks at whatever is handy
.
She poured the cup, started up the stairs, and turned back for another. Two cups might not be enough, but better to be prepared than having to make a second trip. As if there were any chance she was going to do this again.
She tapped on the door.
‘‘Come in.’’
Her hair in some kind of order, Belle sat in her chair with her feet propped on a footstool. Her feather-trimmed dressing gown left plenty of bare skin showing, as did a corset that pushed her chest up and out. Even disheveled as she was, the kohl around her eyes and her bright red lips looked freshly done.
Ruby handed Belle the one cup and set the other on the nightstand.
‘‘Have a seat.’’
Ruby looked around, and the only available surface was the bed. ‘‘There?’’
‘‘Unless you want the floor.’’ Belle blew two perfect smoke rings, her head back as if totally relaxed, the queen granting an audience. But her left eyelid twitched.
‘‘I know you’re aware of the increase in room prices.’’ Ruby waited, hoping for an acknowledgment. Nothing.
All right, two can
play at this waiting game
. ‘‘So I am here to inform you that your new room rate will be two dollars a day in accordance with the new rates.’’
‘‘I think not.’’ Cigarillo between two fingers, she sipped from the cup.
‘‘I’m sorry, Belle, but that’s the way things have to be.’’
Belle leaned forward. ‘‘Sorry, my eye, you’ve been waiting to do this all year. Now that you got a full house, you want to squeeze another dollar out of me.’’
‘‘I can rent your room for double that, so I am giving you a break.’’
‘‘Break, my eye! You want to drive me out, that’s what. Turn my cardroom into a schoolroom for brats, so there’s not enough room for the gentlemen to even move their chairs without bumping into things. You got it all. Why do you have to be so selfish and try to take what little I have? If your father could see this, he’d roll over in his grave or come and haunt you.’’ Tears laced her voice. ‘‘It’s my home that I helped build, and you want to throw me out.’’
‘‘Belle, I never said you had to leave, just that I’m increasing your rent. Unless, of course, you want to come down and wait tables with the rest of us. Daisy could use some help with the ironing too, and there are always rooms to clean. You missed out on all the canning.’’
Ruby’s fingers itched to knock the smoking cigarillo right out of Belle’s hand. The smell and the smoke made her cough. Her eyes smarted. How could Belle live like this? ‘‘You have to make a decision, Belle.’’ Were those tears she saw making black tracks down Belle’s face, a face that sagged in ripples down into her neck?
‘‘You’ll be sorry for this.’’
‘‘Belle, you have no idea how often I’ve been sorry for all this.’’ Ruby stood. ‘‘You have one week to make up your mind. And within that week I will give you my decision on the card-room.’’
‘‘You . . .’’ The words that followed Ruby out the door burned her ears.
Back in the kitchen she took off her apron and hung it outside to air. She felt like she needed to hang her entire self out to air, so she went for a walk down by the river.
Lord, how you kept
me from screaming at her, I’ll never know. For the first time, I could see
right through what she was doing. I have let her frighten me into doing
what she wanted, but no more. I will do what’s best for Dove House and
the rest of us, and I’m counting on you to guide and keep me. You promised
wisdom to those who ask, and I have pleaded to be wise
.
She sat down on a rock and gathered her skirt tight around her bent legs, leaning her chin on her knees.
Am I to close the
cardroom, or is that something important to our male guests? If they
want to play cards, why do I need to provide a dealer or two? They could
go play down at Williams’s. But they would come back drunk and possibly
tear up the place. If I close the cardroom, Belle will either have to find
another place to work or move. What is best for Dove House?
What did she mean when she said that I’ll be sorry? What can she
do? What has she done?
Eventually the ripple of river and whisper of trees spread their calming peace, and she stared up the river. Two cows stood knee-deep in the water, drinking at an eddy. A little brown bird fluttered his wings, dipping and splashing, getting his daily bath. One of the cows bellowed a sound of warning or a call to her calf.
Rand would know,
Ruby thought, feeling her face relax from tight jaw to some part of a smile. He’d understand cow talk, horse talk, and most likely bird talk too.
When they were walking Milly on Baldy, had she told him thank you? If it weren’t for him, Milly might have died or stayed in that netherworld for who knows how long.
Rand Harrison. Was he interested in Pearl? After all, he sat at her table whenever he came for a meal. Hers and Mr. Heg-land’s.
Somehow the thought made her realize how hard was the rock she sat on and how much work she had to do at the hotel. Hands locked behind her back as she walked, she kept returning to the same question. What to do about Belle and the cardroom?
‘‘So what are you going to do?’’ Pearl and Ruby were sitting on the porch drinking coffee.
‘‘I don’t know, Pearl. I detest making anyone unhappy, and yet I know that something has to change. My father said, ‘Take care of the girls,’ and if I force Belle to leave, I’m not living up to my word. I promised.’’
The nights started earlier and with a bite these October days, so Ruby and Pearl wore shawls and enjoyed the steam and warmth of the hot coffee. They’d be forced inside soon, but since these end-of-the-day meetings were so pleasurable, they made them last as long as possible.
‘‘I think—no, it’s not even that I think—I have a feeling something’s been going on here and that Belle is behind it.’’ Ruby sipped her coffee, watching Pearl over the rim. Never in her life had she had a friend to talk things over with. She had considered Mrs. Brandon a friend, but she also had been her employer. Cimarron and Daisy were friends, but they also worked for her. Milly was more like a little sister, and she worked here too. Everything was so complicated. But Pearl, while she had helped out for her room and board, was a true friend.