Читать книгу Married To Claim The Rancher's Heir - Lauri Robinson - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Gabe found Dusty Martin at the hayshed, forking the last remnants of hay out of the wagon and on top of the growing pile. Poison ivy didn’t bother the animals, but it was a nuisance to people who were sensitive to it. Luckily, that had never been him, but Max had broken out from it more times than he could count.

A dark and ugly pain shot across Gabe’s chest and settled in his stomach. The same spot a similar pain had laid down roots five years ago. Over time, that pain had made itself invisible, shrank down to nothing but a nagging lump every once in a while.

Until today.

“Couple more days and we’ll be done with that field,” Dusty said, taking his hat off to wipe aside the sweat dripping into his eyes.

Gabe nodded. Most of the hands, including Dusty, had been around the Triple C for years and knew what needed to be done and when, without a word of direction.

Replacing his tattered hat over his crop of graying curls, Dusty said, “We’ll head up to the north fields after that.” He gestured past the barns and up the slight hill, where the house sat. “You met your company?”

Gabe nodded again. “Yes.”

“She said the little girl is Max’s daughter.”

The ranch was too close-knit to keep any secrets. “That she is,” Gabe replied.

“Didn’t know he had a daughter.”

“I didn’t either.” Gabe wasn’t certain what he’d do about that either. He may have pointed out to Janette that he should be the one to inherit all of Max’s possessions, but he didn’t want a single one. Not a single one.

“Walter must have seen us haying, knew they could catch a ride to the ranch,” Dusty said.

Walter Thorsten had been driving the stage that crossed the southern part of the ranch for years, and on occasion had delivered people to the house, but it was several miles out of the way. “May have,” Gabe answered. “Or she may have said they’d walk.”

“In this heat?” Dusty asked, shaking his head. “Walter wouldn’t have advised that.”

Gabe shrugged. “She may have insisted. From what I’ve seen, she’s a mite pigheaded.”

“Well, she was mighty glad to accept a ride from me,” Dusty said, knowing better than to argue. “How long they staying?”

Gabe shrugged again. “Don’t know. Overnight for sure.”

“Your father must be smiling today,” Dusty said. “Knowing there’s a new generation of Callaways on the Triple C. That was his only regret.”

Despite the heat, a shiver had the hairs on Gabe’s arms standing up. Dusty was right. Ruby was the next generation of Callaways. Whether he wanted to inherit anything or not, he had. And the Triple C is where Ruby belonged.

“Well, I better head back out.” Dusty walked around the wagon. “Looks like Jake’s coming up the road with another wagonload. Suspect they’ll be ready to load me up again as soon as I arrive. Having two mowers keeps everyone busy.”

Gabe considered mentioning the poison ivy, but there was no reason to. The hands knew to cut around it whenever possible, and none of them had ever been affected by the plant one way or the other.

No one had broken out from poison ivy since Max left. Until now.

“You need more men out there?” Gabe asked.

“No.” Dusty wrapped the reins around his hands. “Just stating a fact.”

“Good enough, then,” Gabe said as Dusty drove off. The other wagon was still a distance away, no more than a cloud of dust on the road. Huffing out a breath, Gabe turned to glance toward the house as his mind went back to his company. So this was the sister. The one Anna had talked about. There had been plenty of time for him to think about Anna over the years. She’d been young and impulsive and...lively. So full of life he’d stumbled over his own feet the first time he’d heard her laugh. That had never happened before or since. Nor would it ever happen again.

Anna had been pretty, too, and appealing. A circle of men had gathered around her in the passenger car. Men Gabe didn’t think a girl as young and innocent as she’d appeared to be should be associating with. That’s why he’d stepped in, and later, she’d thanked him for that.

Still gazing up at the house, Gabe let out another sigh. Marriage, as well as the idea of having a wife and family, hadn’t appealed to him for a long time. Still didn’t, but now, thanks to Max, the reason he might have to eventually marry was no longer relevant. Because of Ruby there was now another generation of Callaways to continue on the Triple C.

His father had started the Callaway Cattle Company when Kansas had been a violent battleground. On the east border, the fighting was over Kansas being a free or slave state; on the west, the battles were caused by the removal of Indian tribes. Always his own man, his father hadn’t entered any of the battles. Instead, he started a cattle company that fed the army, the abolitionists and vigilantes and the proslavery and anti-Indian government heads who traveled the state, urging citizens to side with them. Long before the cattle drives brought herds to Kansas to ship eastward, Triple C beef had been feeding folks in Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, even the Missourians who had hated them so badly. Triple C beef still did and would for decades to come.

It had taken hard work to make the Triple C into a profitable ranch, a lot of that work had been his, and it would take just as much to keep it that way. It was nice, though, to know he didn’t need to worry about producing future generations. Max had taken care of that. If Max had been around, he might have thanked him. Maybe even thanked him for running off with Anna.

Marrying and producing an heir had weighed heavily on his shoulders for a time. Put there by his father on his deathbed. That had been when he’d gone to Wichita. On the outside the trip had been to meet with eastern slaughterhouses, but on the inside he’d set his mind upon finding a bride, knowing his father had wanted that as much as he’d wanted the new contracts. Wichita had been full of women, there had been a few he’d considered as possible options, but none of them had made him ready to pounce. Until the train ride home, when he’d met Anna.

She’d been young and vibrant, but it hadn’t been until she’d said that she was on her way to Denver to start a new life that he’d become more interested. She’d claimed she’d always wanted to go west, to see the frontier that everyone held in such high regard. When he’d told her about the ranch, her eyes had twinkled with excitement and she’d begged for him to tell her more. He had, and he’d also started to wonder if she just might be the one woman who could make getting married worth the troubles and headaches of having a wife.

When the train had stopped in Hays, she’d sent a wire to Denver, stating her arrival would be delayed. Bringing her back to the ranch had shocked some people, just as he’d known it would.

A sickening bolt stabbed him dead center, and, needing to rid himself of thoughts that could haunt him if he’d let them, Gabe took off toward the barn. There was plenty of work to be done. Always was. Work that made him forget. Just as it had for the past five years.

He’d been at the house when Janette and Ruby had arrived because he’d been responding to correspondence concerning the purchase of cattle from a buyer in Denver. The letter was now written, ready to be delivered to the next westbound train, and that meant he needed to cull the cattle that would be driven to the train station next week.

Work, what needed to be done, is what he focused on every day. Today was no different. Once he had a horse saddled, he rode north, to where half a dozen hands were already separating the young stock.

* * *

After Janette had scrubbed herself with the strong-smelling soap, Rosalie had entered the room and dumped water over her head until the tub was about to overflow. Then the woman covered Janette’s neck in baking soda and made her sit in the cooling water for a full five minutes. That part wasn’t so bad. It was what came next that had almost made her jump out of the tub. The vinegar Rosalie used to rinse away the baking soda had smarted so badly tears had formed in Janette’s eyes.

However, by the time all the snarls had been brushed out of her hair, the initial stinging had eased, and her neck felt near normal. It didn’t look normal, still covered in a blotchy red rash, but the swelling in her lips and earlobes had gone down considerably.

Thank heavens. The rash was enough to contend with.

Not knowing if any stray strands of hay might have entered her traveling bag, Rosalie insisted Janette put on a borrowed dress. The older woman was about the same height, but much rounder and bustier. Janette couldn’t remember wearing something so ill fitting. Probably because she never had. She’d inherited her seamstress abilities from her mother, who had always made sure both of her daughters were well dressed. Luckily, Rosalie had a sewing kit, so with little more than a few stitches, Janette had the dress looking much more presentable, not to mention wearable.

Rosalie also insisted that Janette not touch Ruby, stating some of the oils from the poison ivy could be on Ruby’s clothes. Janette made herself useful by hauling buckets of water into the washroom from the cistern pump in the kitchen and from the four kettles on the stove. While Rosalie scrubbed Ruby, Janette cut apart a cotton gown Rosalie had given her in order to stitch it into a simple dress for Ruby to wear while their clothes were washed and dried.

“Thank you for being so accommodating,” Janette said while sitting in the chair by the washroom door. “Both Ruby and I appreciate it.”

“A little bit of excitement is just what is needed around here.” Rosalie grimaced slightly as she squeezed the water out of the ends of Ruby’s hair with both hands. “Not that I’d wish poison ivy on anyone.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Janette answered, telling herself her neck was not starting to itch again. Was not. There was no way she’d tolerate another vinegar dousing.

“No one’s had poison ivy around here since Max left,” Rosalie said.

“Max. My dada, Max,” Ruby said, her blue eyes as bright as her freshly scrubbed face.

“Yes, your daddy was Max,” Rosalie said, patting Ruby’s cheeks.

“Mama, Dada went to heaven,” Ruby said.

Janette had to close her eyes at the ache that entered her heart. Mrs. Potter had explained Max’s and Anna’s deaths to Ruby before Janette had arrived in Texas, and Ruby could make it sound like they’d be coming back any day now. Withholding the desire to cross the room and hug the child, Janette opened her eyes in time to meet Rosalie’s gaze, which said the older woman had the same desire.

“Is this heaven?” Ruby said.

Janette held her breath, wondering how to answer.

Rosalie chuckled. “Some claim it is. Especially your uncle Gabe. I remember when your daddy was your size.” While laying a towel on the floor, she continued, “And I gave him and your uncle Gabe baths, just like I am you. Now, come here, you little pumpkin, you’re as clean as a boiled egg.”

As Ruby giggled, Rosalie lifted her out of the tub, bundled her up in a towel and then carried her across the room and set her on a small bench.

“I’ll brush your hair while your auntie finishes stitching up a dress for you to wear,” Rosalie said. “Is that all right?”

Ruby nodded as she answered, “Yes.”

“I used to brush your daddy’s hair,” Rosalie said. “When he’d let me. I sure have missed him.”

Janette tried to focus on her stitches, but the sadness in Rosalie’s voice made it difficult. The way Anna and Max had run away wasn’t her fault, yet Janette wanted to apologize for it.

As if she knew that, Rosalie shook her head. “Do you like apple dumplings?” she asked Ruby.

Frowning, Ruby cast a look her way, one Janette had learned to read over the past couple of weeks.

“I don’t think she knows what apple dumplings are,” Janette said. “But I bet she would like them.”

“Then we will make some, as soon as we get all of your clothes washed,” Rosalie said.

“I can wash the clothes,” Janette said. “I’m sure the water—”

“No,” Rosalie interrupted. “If you’re as finicky about those weeds as Max was, you don’t want to come in contact with anything that was even close to poison ivy.”

Janette bit the thread in two and then flipped the gown around to hem it. “I thought you said it’s not contagious.”

“It’s not contagious from person to person,” Rosalie explained. “But once a person breaks out from it, they are more susceptible to it happening again.” After a final smoothing stroke on Ruby’s hair, she set the brush aside. “I’ll wash the clothes and then make apple dumplings. They’re your uncle Gabe’s favorite.”

The gurgle in Janette’s stomach said the apple dumplings didn’t sound nearly as good as they once had. “How long does the rash last?” Janette asked, still refusing to give in to the itching that was starting up again.

“Oh, three to five days,” Rosalie said. “If you keep putting vinegar on it. Vinegar dries it up. Otherwise it could linger for weeks.”

“I’ll put some more on shortly,” Janette said. The sting from the vinegar didn’t seem that bad in comparison with dealing with a rash for weeks.

Rosalie grinned as she walked over to the tub and pulled the cork out of the bottom. She then started putting the room back in order.

“I didn’t expect such modern conveniences,” Janette said. Anna had mentioned the Triple C, but not in detail. So had Max. Then again, when they had mentioned the ranch, it was in connection to Gabe, who they both swore was on the ornery side. Janette hadn’t believed them, not completely.

Then, that is.

“Every time Gabe travels to a city, he comes back with some newfangled idea or another,” Rosalie said. “I’m glad he does. The water is piped out from beneath the washroom and runs all the way to the garden. Same with the tub in the kitchen. It sure has saved me from carrying a lot of water.”

Janette couldn’t quite believe he had created the drains just to reduce the amount of work Rosalie did. That didn’t seem like the Gabe she’d met, or the one Max and Anna had talked about.

“It might be a month or more after he’s seen it that he sets into building it,” Rosalie said. “Because he ponders on things until he has it all worked out in his mind before he sets into building it. That’s how Gabe is. Thinks things through, good and solid.” With a laugh, she added, “Max, on the other hand, he’d jump into things like there was a pack of wolves chasing him. Lord, but those two could butt heads. Yet, they were the best of friends.”

Janette had to force a lump out of her throat before she could even bite the thread in two. She didn’t need to learn anything more about Gabe than she already knew. Thankful for her speedy slip stitch, she held the dress up. “Here we are, Ruby. Let’s see if it fits.”

After removing the towel, she slipped the dress over Ruby’s shoulders and tugged the material down until it flowed clear to her tiny ankles. The child was thin. Though Janette had arrived in Texas as soon as possible, Ruby had also been ill, and it had been weeks since the child had eaten as she should. After dealing with the necessary tasks, Janette had packed Ruby up and left Texas as quickly as she’d arrived. At the first stage stop, she purchased all the extra food she could and had encouraged the child to eat regularly while traveling.

“Well, you certainly are swift with a needle, aren’t you?” Rosalie said. “Talented, too. It doesn’t even look like it had been one of my old sleeping gowns.”

“It’s just a simple pinafore,” Janette said, turning Ruby around to make sure the makeshift gown fitted properly. Whether it was a simple shift or a dazzling ball gown, every garment she made filled her with joy. Her mother had said that one must enjoy their work, and Janette believed that wholeheartedly. “But it will do nicely until her clothing dries.” Once again, she was inclined to say, “I’m sorry for the trouble we are putting you through.”

“Trouble?” Rosalie shook her head. “This is more fun than I’ve had in a long time.”

The shine in Rosalie’s eyes and the grin on her face made Janette smile. Couldn’t help it. The older woman beamed like a ray of sunshine. Shaking her head, Janette said, “Well, if doctoring poison ivy victims and washing clothes is fun, I don’t think I want to know what you usually do.”

Rosalie’s laughter bounced off the walls as she picked up the basket of clothes. “Oh, darling, it’s not the work. It’s the company that makes it fun. There are plenty of people living on the Triple C, but every one of them is so busy, few enter the house. Some days I’m so lonely, I find myself talking to the flies.” With a nod toward Ruby, she continued, “Follow me. There’s a mama cat with a basketful of rambunctious kittens on the back porch that I think someone is going to love.”

Ruby did love the kittens, and, feeling useless, Janette insisted there had to be something she could do while Rosalie washed their clothes. Finally giving in, Rosalie stated that although she could cook every type of food known to man, she had two left hands when it came to sewing. Therefore, while Ruby played with the kittens and Rosalie washed clothes, Janette sewed on buttons, stitched up rips, patched holes and sewed pockets back on a variety of clothing.

“The hands are gonna be happier than frogs in a pond,” Rosalie said. “Some of those things have been in that basket so long I don’t remember what belongs to whom.”

“I’m happy to do something useful,” Janette replied.

“You’re useful, all right,” Rosalie said. “So useful, I’ll be carrying down a second basket of mending afore I start making those apple dumplings.”