Ruth, p.3
Ruth, page 3
The baby’s pa tipped his hat then filled it with oats. “Looks like you’ll be busy for a bit. I’ll be back before too long.”
Neither bid him adieu.
Seemed an infant’s cry pushed everything out of a female’s mind, but that suited him right nice not having to be his son’s mother and father. He found his three sets of oxen more than a half mile farther out than the last time he hunted them. They were good animals. All six stood still while he scratched on their heads.
“Eat up, boys; we’ll be on the trail before too long.”
He came back with an armload of firewood and a mind made up. Still took him all the way past supper and Star getting both babies down before he could speak it.
“Ruth, best I can tell, there’s room in the wagon for you, Sissy, and the little ones. I’ll bed down under it if you were wondering.”
“Thank you. That’s so kind and thoughtful of you.” She smiled. Even in the dim light of the fire, she looked rather fetching. “I wondered. That’ll be perfect.”
With his voice low and with his back to Star, he leaned closer. “Ma’am, don’t mean to pry, but seems to me twice today you passed on talking about the baby’s pap.”
She nodded.
Even quieter. “Are you a single lady?”
Again, she nodded.
He thought so, but was he being an idiot for even considering what he was thinking?
“You are a right handsome lady, and . . .”
“Stop, sir, please.” Ruth held her hand out. She didn’t like where this was headed. “Don’t say anything else.” She glanced over at the little miss, drying a plate with an ear stuck out toward the conversation Ruth was doing her best to detour.
“Why not?”
She stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I best take a little stroll.”
“Of course, need a lamp?”
She glanced skyward. “No need, the bit of moon tonight should be sufficient.”
Keeping the wagon’s campsite in sight, she took care of the necessities, but more than that, she needed to escape his plan. Should she have moved in with the little family just because she had the milk they so desperately needed?
With no intentions of taking on any emotional baggage, perhaps not. She just wasn’t ready. She couldn’t.
Yet little Noah had already wormed his way into her heart. Even as such a wee one, his personality proved so different from Julia’s. And Star, poor little sugar so needed a woman in her life.
Approaching camp, she found the man squatted by the fire alone. She joined him. “Seems a might cooler tonight. Are you certain you’ll be fine under the wagon?”
“Oh yes ma’am! More than fine.”
“Star turned in?”
He nodded. “She’s an early riser.” Then he leaned in close, too close for her sensitivities. “An arrangement would serve us both, Ruth.”
Of course, it would. She closed her eyes.
Her head said she ought to think about it, but her heart wouldn’t listen. “Have you ever read any Jane Austen novels?”
“No, ma’am, can’t say I have.”
If only more men could understand about true love.
“I believe one might give you a certain insight. Miss Austen writes about what I want. You’re probably right; an arrangement would most likely be mutually beneficial, but—”
“But what?”
Even in the fire light, she could see the disappointment flickering in his eyes.
“Getting married might make things easier, but I want love, Logan. The true, deep, forever kind of love. I made a horrible mistake with Julia’s father, letting him sweep me off my feet. But he didn’t love me, and truth be known . . . I didn’t love him either. I thought I did, but with his true colors exposed . . . well . . .”
“I’d be faithful.”
“I have no doubt. I’m sure you would.” She smiled and shrugged.
“I love my baby girl, Logan, and would never wish her away, but I’ll not make the same mistake again. I believe I owe it to my God and to my heart. I will not settle. If I can’t have true love, then I’ll have nothing. Whatever He has for me.”
“I understand, forgive me for asking. I’m so glad He brought you to our camp. You’ve been a blessing, that’s for sure.”
“Well, thank you, sir, and there’s no forgiveness needed. I’m quite flattered. And honored, too.”
“I only—”
“Truly, I understand why you asked. I do. You may rest assured that I will not abandon you and Noah.”
A sweet relief settling over him was visible, as though she’d taken a heavy load off his chest, and he could breathe again.
“Thank you for that word.” He stood and chuckled. “I’ll be holding you to that.” He stretched. “Well, it’s getting late. Best take a little stroll myself.”
As he disappeared into the night, a twinge of regret stabbed at her heart. The poor man certainly hadn’t had it easy either; life hadn’t given him any favor. He’d make a good match, but the security his presence brought wouldn’t fulfill the longing in her heart. No, she’d made the right decision not accepting his offer.
Hadn’t she?
Who knew besides the Good Lord?
Again, the loss of her father and his wisdom hit her hard. If only she could talk with him, but . . . He slept in his grave, dead and gone to her until that glorious day of reunion. She climbed into the wagon then carefully scooted Julia over before she lay down. It felt so good to get prone and stretch out.
Bless the Lord! What a difference a day made. And only the first—and next to the last—night camped in Independence. One more day, then she’d be off to Oregon.
How close His timing had been. She’d almost missed her chance to go.
Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I can’t thank You enough, Father.”
Chapter Four
For the longest once he got under the wagon, Logan contemplated what the day had wrought. The Lord had blessed him and his son with Ruth, but he’d gone off halfcocked again and almost run her off.
When was he going to learn? He allowed himself a smile; at least she promised she’d not abandon him and Noah. He sure liked the way she sent that no-account packing.
Needed to keep an eye out for that fellow.
Good looking rakes like him were liable to do or say anything. He made himself stop thinking about the pretty lady and focused on the day after tomorrow, what he needed to get done before the train pulled out.
The baby’s fussing woke him, but then the child quieted really quick.
Shame he wasn’t on the other side of his son, helping to keep him warm, but it wasn’t to be. He rolled over and found another forty winks, but then like most mornings, he beat the roosters and Star up.
He stirred the ashes until he gathered enough embers to light some kindling then built that into a nice chill-cutting blaze. He loved the smell of coffee in the morning, and in no time enjoyed the aroma.
Halfway through mixing biscuits for baking, Ruth eased out of the wagon. After a quick stroll, she joined him at the cupboard.
“Would you like me to finish that?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. I’d love it.” He scooted sideways, unfolded the slab of fatback, cut off a nice hunk, and retrieved the second pan. “How does fried apples sound, or would you prefer I make gravy with the grease?”
“I love gravy, but apples sound delicious, how many should I core?”
“Three should be enough. Don’t throw out the cores though.”
“I might mash a little for Julia, see how she likes them.”
Before breakfast was ready, Star climbed out of the wagon holding the baby girl in one arm and rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Someone woke up missing her mama.”
Logan grabbed the rocker, pulled it closer to the fire, then busied himself looking east. “Sun will be up before long.”
No one answered, so he kept his back turned until the baby’s soft murmurings told the tale. He turned around. The sight of mother and child warmed his heart. As it should be.
An extra cup of coffee followed breakfast. Ruth nursing Noah had to be all the time he allowed himself to squander. He moseyed off to hear any news.
Didn’t leave any instructions with the ladies since they’d decided on their own they best see to the washing. Good idea to leave out with everything clean. He appreciated having someone else to help see to it that everything got done.
His Godsend was more than just a pretty face, she was plenty smart, and a good worker.
A line with better than twenty pilgrims snaked away from the Captain’s sign-in table. Logan found the man himself inside his tent jawing with three others—strangers to him, but fast as more folks kept coming, no surprise in that.
Would taking on so many travelers help or hinder the journey ahead?
Thinking the latter true, he esteemed the Captain’s early leaving decision.
Listening for a bit first, he soon joined the conversation. “I’m with Captain. Wagons without herds should travel together. You cattle men need to stick close to your animals.”
The main malcontent faced him. “That’s fine but we should take turns on who goes first.”
Logan shrugged. “That’s not how the captain wants it.”
The man squared his shoulders. “And that’s why I’m here. Who asked you?”
“All I’m saying is unless you signed a different agreement than I did, Captain’s the boss. No need arguing a matter.”
“We only hired him to guide us, not make the rules. We need to have a meeting, decide what’s what.” The man glared, looked around. No one offered any support, and he stormed out.
Gantt faced him. “Morning, Logan, how are you and yours this fine day?”
“We’re good, Captain, and ready to roll. Any news?”
“Nothing of interest. Be ready first light. You paid the ferry man? Got your place set?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good man.” He nodded but didn’t say more. Logan understood the man’s appreciation for help with the naysayer.
“See you tomorrow then.” He tipped his hat and strolled out.
Normally, he’d spend a bit of time searching for someone in need of his many talents, but what he wanted more than work right then was to get back to his camp.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ruth caught sight of him afar off. Looked like he was coming back, but a glance in his direction sure made it difficult not to stare. Any woman might find looking away easier said than done. Logan bore some fine features.
Suffice it to say they proved hard not to notice.
What wasn’t to like about the man?
Certainly, nothing of his appearance, but she didn’t really know him yet. So how could she say?
Just like she hadn’t really known Tom. For all she knew, the widower might also harbor some terrible secret, too. Certainly not a wife hid out at least, but something . . .
She shuddered off the notion and returned her focus to the wash pot. Switching from stirring to churning, she figured another five minutes or so boiling and that bunch would be ready for a rinse.
Star returned from pinning the last load on the makeshift clothesline, a cord stretched from the wagon’s far side to a low branch of a good-sized elm.
“Got any more ready to wring yet? May have to string another line ’fore it’s over. That one’s getting full fast.”
Ruth faced the girl. “Have you given any thought as to how we’re going to do this on the trail?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Neither have I, but I suppose we should. Seems all I’ve been thinking is how wonderful it is going to be once we’re there. If we travel every single day, these clothes may stand on their own by the time we arrive.”
The girl laughed, and she joined in.
“Won’t bother me none.” Star put her fists on her hips. “I’ll tell you true, Oregon’s exactly what I’ve been dreaming about, too. A nice, sawed board house—with my own room. And one for Noah. I want chickens, too. I love fresh eggs and a fat hen roasting for a Sunday dinner. You go to church much, Miss Ruth?”
“Every Lord’s day when I could. Hated to miss.”
“Me, too. Now Alice? She’d find any excuse not to go: a terrible headache, a tear in her Sunday dress, or it being dirty. Ask me, I think she tore the thing on purpose. She had more lame excuses than a hive has honeybees.”
“Oh, Hanna, you’re so funny.”
“Well, anyways, Pa and I went, no matter what—rain or shine. That’s just one of the reasons I figured she wasn’t really a Christian at all.”
“That could be it, or maybe she was under conviction.”
“Hey, ladies, how’s the wash going? Anything you need?” His tone sounded amiable enough, but he glared at his daughter. How much had he heard?
The girl turned away and busied herself with straightening the clothespins.
“Progressing just fine. Next to last load is in the pot.”
“That’s good news.”
“And only thing I know of that we might need is more cloth for diapers. With two little ones, it may be hard to keep enough clean if we’re on the move every day. What about you, Star? Can you think of anything?”
“We could always use more deadfall, especially for cooking later. And more rinse water couldn’t hurt.”
“Done.” The man grabbed an empty bucket and headed toward the creek.
Ruth couldn’t help but grin yet managed to stifle her giggle at the girl’s ploy to get him back out of camp. Not to mention how quickly he fell for it. Once her father was out of earshot, Star shook her head after him.
“Anyway, out of the blue, he up and married that Alice. I didn’t even know he was sparking anyone, much less falling in love or thinking about getting hitched. I swan, he is my pa, but he sure does need someone to guide and direct him, help him along. I mean I pray all the time, but he’s so . . . so . . .”
“How’d he meet her?”
“I don’t even know. We’d both go to town of a morning, then when they had it open, I’d go on to school. I guess he’d look for work or something, get whatever he found done. After school, I’d stay with whoever Pa had arranged. Whatever town we was at, usually four or five different ladies volunteered.”
“That’s easy to understand.”
“Yes, ma’am. Either mothers of my schoolmates, or one he’d done some chore for would watch me in trade.”
“Nice of him to not impose on the ladies, too. Many a man would without giving it a thought.”
“Not that I’m any trouble. He told me a hundred times to make sure I pulled my weight wherever I was, and I did. I saw to that.”
“Well, that sounds like good advice, and you have a fine work ethic, Star. I’ve noticed that.”
“Thank you, Miss Ruth.” Nodding, without real conviction, she shrugged. “Well . . . If he would have just asked me.”
“Asked you what?”
“About that horrible woman! I could have told him not to marry Alice five minutes after I met that lazy cow. I saw right through her sure enough, but not him. No, siree, he slipped off and put a ring on her finger without a word about it to me—his own daughter! And that was that. I had me a stepmother.”
“Was that so bad?”
“Doubled the work on me is all, on account of, boom! She was in the family way, and after that she barely lifted a finger. What was I supposed to do? Pa seemed so excited about the prospect of a baby boy.” She sighed loudly.
“I just tried to get along.” The darling stopped and pointed her finger at Ruth. “That was not an easy thing.”
She stymied another giggle. She didn’t want to talk about Logan’s second wife—or his first for that matter—so she pronounced the load ready for rinsing and went to fishing it out with a stick and dropping it into the bucket of clean water.
About the time, Star’s father returned with more water, so that batch got two rinsings. While she started the last load, the girl and her father went to wringing.
Great by her since she disliked it the most about doing laundry.
Star had those pinned on the line, blowing in the breeze in no time.
Not long after dinner, both babies woke up hungry, and Logan insisted she settle in the rocker to nurse them, then he took her place folding. His lending a hand made it twice as fast, and all the laundry got finished—dried, folded, and put away.
What man had she ever known who would help with the wash?
She rocked and nursed both the babies at the same time, one across her lap and the other tucked under her arm, feet backwards, past her waist.
Gentleman that he was, he made such a point of turning his back. It made her smile, like it would kill them both if he were to see anything. She liked him being so polite though. It could be he was just . . .
No, that wasn’t a nice thought or anything like the man she was coming to know.
How could a man who was not a gentleman even know how to act like one? She’d been much too naïve with Tom, and now too cynical with Logan.
Love at first sight only happened in fairytales.
But best of all?
The man could silence his daughter with a look, and pretty much kept the girl quiet in his presence. She needed to get him to teach her how to do that. Not that at times the little lady’s free flow of information wasn’t interesting.
Plenty enough!
Mostly though, she prattled on about any and everything that popped into her head, treating silence like a mortal enemy.
Midafternoon, once the babies went down for their naps and the dinner dishes done, Logan stuck his hand behind his back. “Ladies, pick a number between one and five.”
“Oh, Pa! We’ve been working all day. Can’t we rest awhile?”
Ruth looked from the girl to the father. “What’s going on?”
“He plays this stupid game. Puts different numbers of fingers out behind his back. Whoever guesses the number, or gets closest, has to do a chore. I hate calling him a cheater, but of course, Alice never lost.”
“Sounds fun, I’ll take three.”
“No, you can’t have three. Tell her, Daddy. She has to guess again.”
