The Jilted Bride (Mail-Order Bride Book 5) Page 3

  Somehow, her eyes shone in the shadows. He hadn’t expected her to come so close. He could smell her, and he saw the tiny curls spilling from her bun. And the way she whispered lingered in the quiet. It took a minute to realize she’d even asked a question. The children. “Yes. Everything is well?”

  “Indeed, yes. They are happy and playful and smart,” she sighed. “I really … they’re lovely.”

  That wasn’t the word he would have chosen, but she was the one spending all day with them. Owen nodded, wondering if that’s what she had been trying to say. “All right. Well, I should … I need rest. There’s another day ahead of us and twice the work.”

  She hesitated. “Right, yes. Well, I … you’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … I’ll return to the kitchen. My apologies for … for bothering you. Good night.”

  “Good night.” The words came out short, but he was too tired to care. Sighing, he turned into his room. Owen stood and waited to hear her footsteps. He’d grown used to listening to her moving around, becoming gradually comfortable with another set of footsteps walking around inside the house.

  She finally turned around and pattered to the kitchen. The woman worked quietly, and he was grateful for that. Owen sighed, rolling the kinks out of his neck before walking to his bed. It was a large one, meant for two people. But since Jenna’s passing, Owen couldn’t imagine letting someone else even in the room. Ruby knew that, he was sure. She had a roof over her head and children to care for. What more did a woman need?

  ***

  Ruby wondered this as well as she wrapped the fresh loaf of bread. It wasn’t the best, but she was improving. Soon she’d be a true woman in the Wild West. It made her smile. At least something was going right.

  Every day was a new opportunity to learn something new. The children had grown accustomed to her now and not only did they love to play with her, but she loved to play with them. They were darling children. Was this what it was like to be a mother? Why wasn’t everyone a mother if this was the joy they could feel? It wasn’t just about the laughter, but about the sense of security and wonder and the idea that tomorrow meant even more joy and adventures.

  But even as much as she loved it, Ruby had realized at supper that she wanted just one more thing. Surely that didn’t make her selfish? If she could feel this way with the children, then couldn’t she feel this with Owen? And couldn’t he feel the same? She’d read the children a story as they curled up close by their father, and everything had felt so wonderful. Surely he had noticed it as well. It was hard not to wonder if he might ever change his mind about her.

  As Ruby scrubbed, she tried to think. Her lips moved as she prayed to the Lord for guidance. Somehow she couldn’t get herself to be so humble as to not ask for the love of her husband. Trying to make it easier, she asked for help to reach his heart. There was pain; she saw that now. He wasn’t angry or mean; he was stern and sad. The past still clung to him.

  She prayed as she washed, dried, and tidied the kitchen before retiring. Then she prayed on her knees until, at last, an idea came to her. It wasn’t going to be easy, she told the Lord, but she’d try her best.

  ***

  The following morning, she heard Owen rise as he always did, right before the sun. His heavy footsteps moved in the same pattern they always did. As he started to the other side of the house, Ruby hurried to follow.

  Dress on, hair pinned, shoes laced. Hurriedly, she rushed after him. How did he move so fast? Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, she trailed Owen to the barn. There was a sharp wind blowing that made her eyes sting, but she was resolved to carry out her new plan.

  “What are you doing?”

  She’d just stepped inside and jumped, a hand over her chest. Ruby’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as she found Owen standing by a table.

  Trying not to lose her confidence, Ruby stepped forward and offered a cheerful grin. At least she hoped that’s what it looked like. “You mentioned how much work there was to do. The children won’t be up for a while longer, so I wanted to come help you. What can I do?”

  For a minute he stared at her, as though trying to decide if she was lying or hiding something. So she kept the hopeful smile on her face as she stepped a little closer, glancing around the large space. She’d had a look in here during her arrival, but it had only been for a moment.

  “You’re not from around here,” Owen said reluctantly. “You don’t know how to do anything.”

  “No, sir,” she confessed, then hurriedly tried to make up for it. “But I can learn. And I’ll do it quickly. We can cut the load in half, can’t we? That … that’s what marriage is about. Helping each other.” The words spilled out awkwardly, but she was running out of steam.

  His expression didn’t change. Ruby wondered if she should just return to bed. It was certainly warmer. But that meant giving up, and she didn’t want to do that. Licking her lips, she tried to think of something more to say.

  Before she did, he sighed. “All right. It’s time you learned to milk a cow. And just call me Owen.” Her heart skipped a beat, and Ruby beamed. That had to be a step in the right direction.

  Nothing was easy. But she hadn’t expected it to be. Listening to his instructions carefully, Ruby did her best to learn the right way, and quickly. The cows were milked, the chickens were fed, and then they collected the eggs as the sun was rising. Her chest heaved as they returned to the hill. Everything was hard, and she had loved every minute.

  “That’ll be everything for now.” Owen wiped his brow. “You can use those to break your fast, or perhaps for supper.”

  Clutching the basket to her chest, Ruby glanced around. “Are you sure that’s everything I can do? I mean, I …”

  “The children will be up soon,” he reminded her sternly. “And I need to get out to move the cattle across the river. It’ll be a long day. Tomorrow, I’ll work on harvesting the corn.” She watched him gesture. “Just watch the children and have something for me on the table tonight.” And he walked away.

  Her heart sank a little, listening to him sound as sharp as ever. Biting her lip, Ruby sighed and watched him return to the barn to retrieve his saddle. “One day at a time,” she twitched her nose as her fingers danced. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  Chapter Seven

  When Owen returned late that night, he found not only supper, but a slice of peach pie sitting on the table waiting for him. It smelled delicious. His stomach grumbled, and he dug right in. He was licking his plate clean when he noticed that the other side of the table was covered. His brow furrowed, wondering why Ruby had left a mess.

  To his surprise, when he looked further, there was corn. One basket was completely filled with ears of corn. He touched one just to be certain he wasn’t dreaming. Curious, he glanced into the next pot and found it tightly covered with corn kernels. It meant a few hours of work.

  Tucked beneath the third pot, he found his farming book. So he wasn’t crazy. Ruby must have found his book and followed the instructions. From the looks of it, she had followed them perfectly. He scratched his head. Why? Owen hesitated, glancing down the hall to see if she might still be awake. But there was no light from her closed door. Of course she was asleep. He should be asleep as well. He could think in the morning.

  ***

  Ruby showed up again. This time, she was waiting at the back door. Owen hesitated, wondering what to say. Did she really want to be up this early? “Good morning,” she offered.

  Owen opened the door. “Morning.” They started the walk down to the barn together in silence. He kept glancing at her. Though he found himself wanting to say something, he just didn’t know what. “Ruby?”

  “Yes, Owen?” She glanced up at him with that smile.

  He swallowed. “Do you need help milking? With the cows, I mean. If I left you to that?”

  Ruby’s eyes widened. “You think I’m good enough to do it on my own already?”

  His lips twitched. “Well, I suppose I could watch
you for a bit, just to be sure. But you might be.” Owen watched her smile widen. “Come on.” He led the way as Ruby grabbed the pail and stool.

  “So first …” she paused before reaching for the cow’s udder and glanced at her sleeves. “Oh, I got these dirty yesterday.” Ruby rolled them up. It made him smile, remembering how he used to make that mistake as well. The light flickered, impressing shadows across her arms.

  But they stayed, even as the light changed again. He leaned forward. Ruby talked quietly to herself, repeating his instructions. His eyes watched her arms. There were scratches or scars; he couldn’t tell. But there were certainly bruises. Fading yellow, but bruises nonetheless. He thought back. She was a little clumsy, but not terribly.

  “How’s this?” Ruby turned to him.

  Owen glanced at the cow. “It’s good,” he managed. “You can squeeze a little tighter.” He straightened, telling himself not to be silly. She was fine. And she was good at milking cows. Soon he decided she was good on her own and went to the hay.

  When he was finished, she had already moved on and sent the eggs to the kitchen. Ruby glanced at the rising sun. “Oh, isn’t that lovely? Mornings are my favorite time of day.” She grinned, watching the colored streaks litter the sky before turning to Owen. “I tried my hand at harvesting the corn. I hope you don’t mind that I … I found your book, you see, and I wanted to help. And the children, they had a lot of fun shucking the ears. What else are you growing?”

  She pointed to the wide expanse, and this time his gaze wouldn’t leave her bare arm. He could see her bare elbow now and couldn’t ignore it. “Did you burn yourself?”

  The girl gasped at his touch while he inspected the wound. It had been a while since he’d seen anything like this, but if he had any guess, it was a few months old. “No, it’s nothing, I didn’t. He just—” Ruby covered the mark as she tugged free. “It’s nothing, Owen, I’m fine. It’s … it’s nothing.”

  He tried to read between the words. But she wouldn’t look at him. If she was going to hide something, however, Owen couldn’t do anything about it. He shrugged it off and pointed out the other areas on the ranch; he told her about his plans and she listened carefully, asking questions here and there.

  Ruby glanced up at the house. “I think … I think it might be nice if we attended church. Just once in a while. The preacher seemed nice, didn’t he? I was—it just might be—the children might like it, and … Well?”

  Owen hesitated. “I don’t know.” Her smile tightened. All of a sudden he didn’t want to disappoint her. Where had that come from? So he tried to think of a compromise. “Perhaps. Not this Sunday, but … the next. I’ll plan ahead, and we could make that happen. Besides, we need supplies from town.”

  “Wonderful!” She turned to go but hesitated. “Should we, I wonder, expect you tonight?”

  “For …” He cocked his head. “Oh.” Supper. “Yes, I should manage that.” He watched her go, suddenly feeling like he didn’t know her at all. The other day he had supposed she was just another girl. But as he got to work on the ranch, Owen couldn’t stop thinking about Ruby.

  ***

  On the way up to the house that night, he found himself whistling. The hat went on the chair, boots went off, and he paused to hear Parker singing. Ruby clapped her hands to keep the beat as he sang the hymn.

  “Oh, that’s just lovely!” He heard her cry out when Parker finished, clapping loudly. “Goodness, Parker. You’ll be quite the musician in the family.” Then she smiled as she glanced back at Owen, though he didn’t know how she had noticed his silent arrival. “And there’s your father. Time for supper. Parker, help your sister wash up, will you?”

  Parker nodded. “Hi, Pa!” he said cheerfully as they passed. The little girl waved the wooden horse in the air as her greeting. Owen found himself grinning as he trailed behind to wash up as well. Once everyone was clean, they joined Kate at the table as she dished out the potatoes.

  He offered a short blessing and they all dug in. Three bites in, however, and Ruby yawned. Owen paused, slowly munching as he considered the woman across from him. Her eyes kept drooping, and she didn’t eat much. When she stood to start washing up, he stood as well.

  Ruby’s eyes widened. He lifted a hand. “You’re asleep on your feet,” he pointed out more loudly than he intended. Though she opened her mouth to respond, Owen continued. This time he tried to speak more gently. “Parker, Kate, thank Ruby for supper. She’s going to bed. We’ll clean up tonight.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to—there’s still the fire—are you certain?” The young woman watched as he stepped around the table and took her by the elbow to move her from the seat, which he tucked away. “I’m not really that tired, Owen. It’s—” but she yawned before she could finish her statement.

  A small chuckle escaped his lips. “Sure you’re not. Kiss the children good night. I’ve got everything else taken care of. We can’t have you running yourself ragged every day.” Then he let go.

  She obeyed, going to each of the children to kiss them good night. They giggled, making faces at her. As she showed her right side to Owen, he noticed a scar trailing down her cheek. It was faint, but it was nearly four inches long. Where had that come from? What else had he not noticed? He frowned, watching as she nodded his way and left.

  She hadn’t said good night to him, he noticed, and felt strangely left out. Owen watched the dark hallway with a tight sensation in his chest. He tried to ignore Ruby, but she was impressive. The woman was trying hard to help, after all. She was running the house, watching the children, and now, helping out in the barn. He glanced down the hall and then at the children, playing with their food. Owen reminded himself of his wife, his real wife. Jenna. Usually she was the only one on his mind.

  He needed to think straight. He was just growing comfortable with Ruby, that’s all. It was nothing more than cordial respect.

  Chapter Eight

  Day by day, waking up with Owen grew easier for Ruby. And soon, Owen found himself enjoying their time together. There were mornings where they talked, and others where they were quiet. Cows were milked, the animals fed, and they started harvesting the land together.

  Afterwards, he’d leave for the day to come home with supper on the table, as well as other work efforts she put together. She made preserves, mended his shirts, and knitted new socks. Owen found himself making an effort to make most evening meals. Not just to enjoy them hot, but to spend time reading stories with the children, and to help tidy up afterwards.

  Then, as he promised, they finally headed into town for church one Sunday. Ruby sighed happily as they arrived. It felt like a lifetime ago when they had stepped inside to be wed. It was a beautiful day, and she had missed singing hymns in the crowd. She paused under the doorway thoughtfully, which gave Kate time to tug on her skirts and wave her hand.

  How could it have only been a month? Ruby smiled at the child as she took her hand, leading the way inside. Her smile slipped for a moment as she looked out to the sea of strangers. There were so many people. And they were all staring.

  Owen bumped into her from behind, then stepped back and set a hand on her shoulder. She swallowed and looked up. “Let’s sit there,” he told her. “Just ignore them. All they want is gossip.”

  She obeyed, and the little family got themselves situated. Soon the preacher started his sermon. Owen glanced at Ruby. Her smile from the wagon ride into town had disappeared when they’d stepped inside. He didn’t blame her, seeing as the town was always nosy for a new story. It was one of the reasons he didn’t like to come around. But her gaze focused on the preacher and she seemed to relax.

  It was a nice dress on her, he noticed. She didn’t wear it often, but the colors made her eyes brighter. Sunlight streamed in through the window beside her, tinted to give Ruby a rosy hue. It also made the scar look more red than he hoped it was. Frowning, he tried to figure out where it might have come from. At least he didn’t see any more bruises. Owen wondered
if that was a consolation. Sighing, he told himself he could worry about that later. After church, perhaps.

  When church ended, Owen hurried them out. They’d sat in a row near the back, and that helped them escape the crowd before anyone could talk to them. Ruby smiled politely, and he tipped his hat to those beside them, but they made it to the wagon before any real conversations took place. Just the way he liked it. And she appeared relieved as well.

  “That was nice,” Ruby announced as they all piled into the wagon. “Careful, Kate. Watch for splinters. And you know what I was thinking about? A picnic. Who wants to go on a picnic today?”

  “I want to eat outside!”

  “Eat! Me eat!”

  She beamed and settled in her seat, fiddling with the skirt to make sure it wasn’t stuck on anything. As she fluffed the fabric, Owen’s gaze dropped to the scar again. Her dress had shorter sleeves, just above her elbows, and it seemed to glare at him in the sunlight.

  Frowning, he gestured, and opened his mouth to ask. It was about time she told him the truth. But Ruby clapped a hand over the scar to block it from his view. Owen looked up and found her staring right back. Clearing her throat loudly, Ruby tried to smile. “Well, Owen? Shall we picnic this afternoon?”

  He hesitated. “We need to get some supplies first. Then there’s work to do.”

  “If I helped later,” she offered, “I think you could join us for a moment. The children would love it, I—I think. We could do it right by the peach tree, perhaps?”

  Owen tsked to the horses and they started rolling down the street. He wanted to focus on his first concern, making sure the woman beside him was fine. “I don’t know, Ruby. Are you ever going to tell me about that? About any of those scars?”

  “Later,” she muttered and looked away.