Chapter Twelve
“You all right?” Diamond asked when Ruby emerged from the jail.
Ruby took several deep breaths, then lifted her head, determined not to cry. “I’m fine. You go ahead. I’ll be along later.”
“Aren’t you heading back to the ranch?”
Ruby nodded.
“So’m I. We’ll ride together,” Diamond said. “Where’s your rig parked?”
“At Neville Oakley’s livery.”
“Come on, then. Looks like we’ll have to walk through the whole damned town.”
“You don’t have to walk with me,” Ruby said softly. “I can manage alone.”
“Yeah, alone. That’s what we both used to do.” Diamond took her time choosing another pickle from the jar. She popped it into her mouth, crunched, swallowed. “Now we don’t have to do anything alone anymore. We’re family, remember?”
For a moment Ruby’s throat was too tight to speak. But she squeezed Diamond’s hand and began walking.
“Millie Potter wanted to stay and apologize. But she had to get back to the boardinghouse to see to her pot roast. She said she hoped you’d stop by later so she could tell you how sorry she is.”
“Oui. It is not Millie’s fault.”
In front of the mercantile Diamond untied her mount and led it, choosing to remain by Ruby’s side. Seeing the little clusters of men, women and children pointing and whispering as they passed, her head came up and her chin jutted in just the same way as Ruby’s. Despite the differences in their garb, and their very diverse coloring, their profiles were identical. Proud. Defiant. Filled with disdain.
The two sisters sailed through town like royalty, refusing to acknowledge the people who were rude enough to stare.
At the livery Neville Oakley put aside his bellows the minute he caught sight of the two Jewel sisters heading his way. He hurried into the stall and retrieved Ruby’s horse, then hitched it to her rig.
As the women walked up, he finished checking the harness, then brushed a speck of dust from the seat.
“Good day, Miss Ruby,” he said. “Miss Diamond.”
Before Neville could offer a hand to Diamond she pulled herself into the saddle.
Neville turned to Ruby and assisted her into the rig. As he handed her the reins, he was shocked to feel her hands. They were as cold as ice.
Without thinking, he closed his big, sweat-stained hands over hers and whispered, “You mustn’t give a thought to what others say, Miss Ruby. The only thing that matters is what is in your heart.”
“Oui. Thank you, Mr. Oakley.” Suddenly she was holding herself together by the merest thread. The jeers of the townspeople were hard enough to take. Harder still was the kindness of this rough giant, who had tasted such similar cruelty all his life.
Ruby knew if she didn’t escape quickly, she would embarrass herself by bursting into tears.
She flicked the reins, and the horse and rig took off at a fast clip. Riding beside her, Diamond happily chewed another pickle. And pretended not to notice her sister’s churning emotions.
Ruby sat on the wide front porch of the ranch house, working her fine stitches through the lace. Late-afternoon sunshine filtered through the branches of the oak, making shifting patterns at her feet. The day had grown warm enough to work without her shawl, but there was a bite to the air, with a hint of the cooler weather that would soon soothe the scorched Texas landscape.
Her mind wasn’t on the approaching season. Or the fact that it was so different from her childhood home in Louisiana. Right now, the town of Hanging Tree was too painfully similar to Bayou Rouge. At least, the people were.
The door opened and Carmelita walked out carrying a tray. “I made coffee just the way you like it, hot and strong. And your favorite sugar cookies.”
“No, thank you.” Ruby straightened for a moment and lifted a hand to massage the back of her neck.
“But you have eaten nothing today.”
“I’m not hungry, Carmelita.”
The housekeeper frowned. She’d heard about Ruby’s humiliating morning. Even before Diamond had returned, one of the wranglers had come from town and told Cookie, who in turn had repeated it to her. But she could think of no way to broach the subject without embarrassing Ruby further. What was worse, she was pretty sure, by the disarray she’d found in Ruby’s room this morning, that Quent had stayed the night. That would make this misunderstanding between them all the harder for Ruby to bear.
“You will go blind sitting in the hot sun sewing those little stitches all day. You should take a rest.”
“I’m not tired.” Ruby looked up and forced a wan smile. “Really, Carmelita. I’m fine.”
“You are not fine. But I do not...”
At the sound of an approaching horse, both women looked up. Seeing the marshal, Ruby sucked in an angry breath. But before she could scoop up her precious lace and make her escape, Quent managed to swing from the saddle and stride across the porch.
He removed his hat and greeted Carmelita with an uncomfortable smile.
“I made these for Ruby,” the housekeeper said, “but she seems to have lost her appetite. Would you care for some?”
She held out the tray, but he shook his head.
“No, thanks. I’ve lost my appetite, too. I came to talk to Ruby. Would you mind leaving us alone?”
Ruby’s scowl grew. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Carmelita. There are no secrets here. Especially now that you’ve managed to bare mine to the entire town.”
The housekeeper hesitated, glancing from one to the other. From the sound of things, this could turn into war.
Seeing her dilemma, Quent touched her arm. “I promise I’ll be brief, Carmelita.”
He held the door while she maneuvered the tray inside. With a swish of skirts she was gone.
Ducking her head, Ruby picked up her needle. “Say whatever you came to say. And then leave me alone.”
“I came here to tell you how sorry I am about this morning.”
She stabbed viciously at the cloth. “All right. You’ve had your say. Now go.”
“Not until you tell me you’ve forgiven me.”
She refused to look at him. Working the needle with quick, efficient thrusts, she remembered what her mother had told her so many years ago. Remember, chérie, a wise woman does not bend. If someone should bend, it must be the man.
“I will not forgive. Ever. Nor will I forget,” she muttered.
She was startled when he dropped to his knees in front of her. “Ruby, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. About what we shared last night. And about what I did to you this morning. I know it was unforgivable. But I’ve come to ask your forgiveness anyway.”
“Why should I forgive?” She was working the needle furiously now, her fingers flying across the snowy lace, her gaze fixed on the fine, even stitches.
“Because I can’t work. I can’t concentrate. All I see is you, being made the object of ridicule for the whole town. And all because of me.”
“Oui. It is your fault.” She turned the lace and started to hem another edge. “You carried me off to jail, and locked me in a horrible little cell. Like...” She clamped her mouth shut, fighting tears of fury.
“Like what?” he prodded.
She shook her head. “Like Sister Clothilde. She was a cruel woman who enjoyed meting out punishment. When I was her pupil at Notre Dame du Bayou, for the slightest infraction of her rules she would lock me in a hot dark closet, and demand that I beg for release. But I would not beg. I would endure anything before I would show her how much she hurt me.”
At her admission he felt his heart turn over. God in heaven. What had he done to this wounded, vulnerable woman? He had locked her up, not once, but twice. And she had fainted rather than admit her fears.
Quent caught her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. When she tried to pull away he tightened his grip.
“Look at me, Ruby. Damn you,” he said thr
ough gritted teeth, “look at me.”
She did. And what she saw caused her heart to stop. There was anger in those dark, narrowed eyes. And frustration. But there was something else. Something so deep, so penetrating, it reached all the way to her soul.
“I have a job to do,” he muttered thickly. “A job that nice people don’t want to think about. There’s no time to worry about feelings, mine or anyone else’s. There’s just the law.”
Without realizing it. his touch gentled. His thumb began to stroke her jaw. His voice, too, softened, as did his gaze. “But with you, Ruby, all the rules have changed. I can’t trust my judgment anymore. I find myself wanting to protect you. Even from the law I’ve sworn to uphold.”
His gaze burned over her. “Do you understand what I’m saying? This morning, when I heard about Millie’s loss, and the fact that you’d been the last person in her room, I didn’t give a damn about her brooch. All I thought about was you.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, sending along her spine a flare of heat that had nothing to do with the weather. “And I was afraid. Afraid I’d stopped being a good lawman. Because the truth is, I found myself worrying more about how to protect you than I did about finding what was lost. That’s why my temper got the best of me. I was trying to hide my fear.”
Ruby couldn’t swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.
When she remained silent he lifted his head and studied her. Then he pressed his lips to her temple, sending a series of shock waves through her veins. “I guess I shouldn’t have come. You have a right to withhold your forgiveness.” His lips grazed her tempie, and she felt a slow, liquid heat begin to build deep inside her. “I behaved like a fool.”
His warm breath tickled her ear, sending a series of delicious tingles up and down her spine. She knew that if she but turned her face a fraction, she would find his lips, warm and firm and tempting. But though she yearned to kiss him, she remained very still. Only the pounding of her heart revealed just how deeply moved she was.
“And you’re the one who had to pay for my foolishness, Ruby.”
She swallowed, hard, and tried to form a word. But none would come.
His voice revealed his pain. “I can see now that I’ve asked too much of you. You can’t forgive me. I guess I should have known. It was an impossible situation, after what we’d shared last night. But I had to try. I had to tell you how much I care, and how truly sorry I am about...everything.”
He got to his feet and started across the porch.
Ruby thought about calling him back, but her throat was too clogged to speak. Tears filled her eyes as he pulled himself into the saddle.
“I won’t bother you again,” he said, touching a hand to his hat. “Goodbye, Ruby.”
As he wheeled his horse and started away, Ruby finally managed to get to her feet. The mounds of snowy lace spilled from her lap, slowing her progress.
She stepped carefully over it, then watched in horror as horse and rider started out at a fast clip.
“Quent.”
The breeze carried her voice away.
“Quent. Wait.”
She knew she couldn’t be heard over the sound of his horse’s hooves.
Lifting her skirts, she started after him “Quent. Please. Wait,” she shouted as she raced across the flat stretch of grass.
But still he kept riding, oblivious to the sounds of her cries.
Determined, she lifted her skirts higher and ran as fast as she could. Her lungs ached from the effort, but she kept going, shouting until her parched throat couldn’t form another sound. And still she ran, silently, watching as the chasm between them continued to widen.
She cried out as horse and rider dipped below a crest. Dejected, defeated, she dropped to the ground, gasping for air. And wept as though her heart had shattered.
It took all of Ruby’s courage to return to town the next morning. But as she dressed in her best gown and studied her reflection in the mirror, she harbored the faint glimmer of hope that maybe, if she confronted Quent Regan in his office, they could still find a way to resolve this horrible misunderstanding.
Perhaps he would look at her and smile. She would then explain that her feelings had been deeply wounded. He would say that he understood completely.
Of course. A half smile touched her lips as she indulged the fantasy. He would gather her close, and she would feel her heart beat once more. Because, in truth, her heart felt like a stone in her chest. Hard and cold and lifeless. And only Quent’s touch would bring it back to life.
She rode the entire distance lost in her fantasy. As she reached the edge of town she straightened her spine. She would approach him boldly, as a woman would approach a man who cared for her. But not too boldly. Perhaps she could look...subdued. Oui. That was the look she would strive for. But as she drew nearer, she realized that she would even crawl to him, if that was what it would take to remove this latest barrier between them.
When she stopped at the livery, Neville emerged from the stable, wiping his hands on his pants.
“Good morning, Miss Ruby.” He took the reins and offered a hand as she climbed from the rig. “Will you be in town long?”
“I don’t know.” She gave him a too-bright smile, to hide her nerves.
“It doesn’t matter how long you’re here. I’ll take good care of your horse and rig,” he assured her.
“Thank you, Mr. Oakley. You always do.”
She made her way along the dusty road until she came to the jail. She paused a moment to pat her hair, then smoothed down her skirt with damp palms. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Arlo was already asleep in the chair, his hat over his face, his feet on the desk.
She peered around. Seeing no one, she made her way to the small room in back. The bunk was neatly made up, the blankets taut and smooth. But there was no sign of Quent.
As she turned, Arlo’s feet hit the floor and his hand went to the gun at his hip.
“Oh, it’s you, Miss Ruby.” He grinned crookedly, embarrassed at having been caught asleep. “You shouldn’t sneak around like that. A body could get herself killed.”
“I was looking for Marshal Regan.”
“The marshal isn’t here.”
Her heart fell. She’d spent so much time preparing for this. What to say. How to act. How not to act. And all for naught. “Where did he go?”
“Off on another tour of the territory.”
She was fighting a wave of tears, and struggled to hold them back. “Did he say how long he’d be gone?”
The deputy shrugged. “You never know with Marshal Regan. Could be a couple of days. Could be a couple of weeks.”
“Weeks?”
He nodded. “Texas is mighty big, Miss Ruby. The marshal’s got a lot of territory to cover. Just depends on what he’s looking for and what he finds.”
She leaned weakly against the desk, feeling as though at any moment her legs would fail her. “Did he...did he say anything?”
“Said plenty. All of it nasty. I’ve never seen him in such a foul mood.”
She forced herself to walk to the door. As she started out he added, “You ought to be glad he’s gone. I don’t know what burr got up his...saddle, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that mad before. Thought he’d skin me alive just for losing a couple of Wanted posters.”
Before she could close the door he called, “What’d you want to see him about, Miss Ruby? Maybe I could take care of it.”
“No. That’s all right.” Her lips were trembling, and she struggled to hide her churning emotions. “It was...nothing important.”
She needed to get to her rig and put this town behind her. This town and its horrible, damnable marshal.
As she passed her shop she heard her name called.
“Morning, Miss Ruby. What do you think?”
She paused, swallowing back tears. Through the open door of her shop she could see several workmen inside, putting
up shelves on one wall.
Farley Duke beckoned. “Your looking glasses arrived from New York. We set them up on either side of the pedestal. Is that how you wanted them?”
She looked around, noting the pedestal in one corner, and the tall looking glasses positioned on either side. “They’re...perfect, Mr. Duke.”
She needed to get away from these workmen until she could compose herself. She crossed the room and opened a door, peering inside at the comfortable back room that would be used as a changing room and office. Her personal room, she thought. All hers. Right now she wished she could just close the door and wallow in the misery she was feeling.
She took several deep breaths, then walked around slowly, examining everything, from the floors to the ceilings. When she had her emotions under control, she walked up to Farley Duke and extended her hand.
“Mr. Duke, it is all that I’d hoped it would be. Please thank the workmen for me.”
He returned her handshake. “I will, Miss Ruby. And you can be sure they’ll be happy to hear that you’re pleased with their work.”
“I’m very pleased. I hope your wife will drop by my shop soon to see some samples of my work.”
His smile faded. His face reddened. “Well, ma’am, I can’t speak for my wife. She’s been awfully busy lately. With the house and the children and the sawmill and all...”
“Yes, of course.” Ruby turned away to hide a fresh wave of pain. How could she have been so foolish as to believe his wife, or any of the others in town, would put aside yesterday’s gossip? Even though Millie’s brooch had been found, the taint of suspicion lingered.
“Well, Miss Ruby, I’ll say good-day now.” Seeing that the shelves had been properly hung, Farley Duke followed the workmen from the shop.
When the door closed behind him, she sank onto the pedestal. And buried her face in her hands.
What if all this fine work had been in vain? What if no one ever came to her shop? What if the women in Hanging Tree decided, as they had with Neville Oakley, to treat her as a social outcast?