Opal Read online

  She saw a dark stain spreading on his pants. ‘‘Let’s get it over with.’’ She backed Bay enough that the man dangled in the air, then handed the end of the rope to Atticus to tie around the tree trunk.

  ‘‘If someone comes along and lets you down, you might want to get out of the area. Men around here don’t take kindly to having womenfolk bothered.’’ Atticus cinched the knot down tight. He glanced up to Opal. ‘‘You want to tell someone about him, or should I?’’

  ‘‘Neither. He’ll probably yell loud enough to wake the dead. Come on, I’ll give you a ride.’’ She drew her foot out of the right stirrup so he could swing up behind her. ‘‘Where you going?’’

  The two of them rode off, the man’s screams for help assailing their ears.

  ‘‘I was on my way home. Been out diggin’ up the garden plot for Mrs. Black. Jed’s so busy building for the marquis, he don’t have time.’’

  To Opal it seemed strange to hear Cimarron referred to as Mrs. Black, but then, Atticus hadn’t really known them when they all still lived and worked at Dove House. The more new people who moved in, the fewer would remember Cimarron’s former life as a soiled dove before Ruby and Opal inherited the saloon-turned-hotel from their dying father.

  ‘‘I’ll take you back near to town, then I gotta get on home.’’ Home to the ranch, the first real home she’d had of her own in her entire life.

  ‘‘How come you weren’t in school?’’

  She’d been hoping he wouldn’t ask that. ‘‘I had a headache and felt sick to my stomach, so I told Mr. Finch I needed to go home.’’

  ‘‘But you went swimming instead.’’

  Leave it to Atticus to hit the nail on the head. He had a talent for that. Opal sighed. ‘‘The river was calling my name.’’ She thought a moment. ‘‘How come you showed up?’’ The bend in the river where she’d gone swimming was not on his way home, more like a mile out of his way.

  ‘‘Thought I’d take home some fish for supper.’’

  ‘‘And I messed that up for you. I’m sorry.’’ She looked over her shoulder, suddenly realizing how close he was, her back warming from the heat of him.

  ‘‘Never mind. I’ll get Robert, and we’ll try the second bend north of town. We always catch plenty there too.’’ Robert was Atticus’s younger brother.

  When they came around the hill, she stopped the horse. They could still hear the man yelling, although faint by now. ‘‘Who you going to tell?’’

  ‘‘Charlie?’’

  ‘‘If you tell him the whole story, he’ll go string the snake up himself.’’

  ‘‘Maunders?’’

  ‘‘That skunk and Jake Maunders are probably in cahoots. They smell like two of a kind. Word of this gets back to Ruby . . .’’ Opal shuddered. All she had wanted was to feel better, and a swim seemed the perfect answer. Why do I always get in trouble when I don’t mean to? I wasn’t playing hooky. Mr. Finch gave me permission to leave. Somewhere in all this the drumbeat at her temples had started up again. Once she got home, Ruby would steep up some willow-bark tea, and that would take care of things.

  ‘‘You can let me off here.’’ Atticus swung to the ground when she stopped her horse.

  ‘‘Thanks for saving me.’’ She smiled down at him, then cocked an eyebrow at the serious look on his face. ‘‘What is it?’’

  ‘‘Don’t you never make fun of us gettin’ married again, you hear?’’

  ‘‘Atticus, it was . . .’’ Of all the nerve.

  ‘‘I mean it.’’

  She watched him stride off across the land now rippling with calf-deep grass. Whatever had come over her friend?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She should be home from school by now.

  You know Opal will be here when she gets here. You promised yourself you would no longer worry about her. After all, what can happen between Medora and the ranch?

  Ruby Torvald, now Mrs. Rand Harrison, tried to ignore the argument going on between her ears, but she knew only too well all the things that could happen between town and home. Runaway horse, although it would take something pretty catastrophic to set Bay off; step in a gopher hole; a snake bite, although she’d heard no mention of rattlesnakes being out of hibernation yet. Surely Opal wouldn’t have gone fishing without letting her know. But she’d done just that in the past. Or gone hunting. But her rifle stood in the gun cabinet Beans had made, along with the others. Even though guns were not allowed at school, she’d taken her revolver along, thanks to Rand, who thought she was much safer with a gun when she was riding alone. Surely Mrs. Robertson didn’t allow her daughters to wear a gun belt and holster. Not that any of them had shown any interest. Unlike Opal.

  ‘‘Ma?’’ One-year-old Per had finally learned to say her name.

  ‘‘Yes, dear, I’m coming.’’ A more tractable child would take a nap without being tied in bed, but not her son. Therefore, when he awoke she needed to be near enough to hear his call, or for sure there would be trouble to pay. She smiled at the sight of his red cheeks and four-tooth grin. ‘‘How’s mama’s big boy?’’

  ‘‘Get up?’’ He waved his arms, then pulled at the band she’d tied around his middle. She’d learned rather quickly that she must tie it in the back and without a bow. She untied the knot, blowing on his neck to make him laugh.

  ‘‘Pa?’’

  ‘‘Out with the horses. Are you wet?’’

  He shook his head. ‘‘Wet.’’

  ‘‘You are a parrot.’’ She checked his soakers and laid him on the table to change him. When she bent over to unpin his diaper, he pulled at the front of her waist, making sucking noises at the same time. ‘‘You’re hungry, eh?’’ He was always ready to nurse after a nap, even though he could drink from a cup, a slow and painful process that usually got more on him than in him. As soon as she had him dressed again in the loose dress that all small children wore, she sat down in the rocker and unbuttoned her waist. He nursed greedily for the first couple of minutes, then smiled up at her, milk dribbling from the side of his mouth, one fat little fist reaching for her mouth.

  ‘‘You tend to your business there, you little scamp.’’ She dabbed at his mouth with her apron. ‘‘Don’t waste the good stuff. The cow hasn’t come in yet.’’ Not long after their wedding two springs ago, Rand had come home leading a milk cow.

  ‘‘Wouldn’t it be just as easy to tame one of the seven hundred cows you have?’’

  ‘‘No. Beef cows and milk cows are two different things.’’

  ‘‘Look mighty close to the same to me—four legs, four teats, a head, and a tail. Color’s different, is all.’’

  Rand had assumed his patient look and tried to explain the difference. Finally he finished with, ‘‘You saw that long-horned mama take after me that day. You think she’d let me milk her? I’d get kicked clear to Dickinson if I tried.’’

  ‘‘If you say so.’’

  ‘‘Besides, milk cows give a lot more milk than range cows and for longer.’’

  ‘‘How do you know? Those calves out there look mighty fat.’’

  That evening he had called, ‘‘Ruby, come on out here so I can teach you how to milk.’’

  ‘‘Me?’’

  Ruby could still remember the shock she’d felt when she realized he was serious about her taking over milking Fawn, as they’d named her. Back at the hotel they’d bought milk and cream from their next-door neighbor. Learning to be a ranch wife took more training than running a hotel. She’d learned to milk but had drawn the line at butchering. At least so far. Between Rand and Beans, there was always someone around to dress out whatever game was brought in. The young chickens hadn’t grown big enough to eat, and all the hens were laying, so she’d managed to forestall that grisly job.

  The first time she’d tried gutting one of the prairie hens, she turned away to heave up the meager contents of her meal. That was about the time she realized she was in the family way. Talk about joy-filled. That she’d been.
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  Good thing Opal didn’t mind doing the chores of milking, feeding the chickens, and gathering the eggs.

  ‘‘All right, young man, enough playing.’’ Ruby sat him on her lap, and while she fastened her buttons, he let out a burp worthy of comment. She chuckled. ‘‘Take after your father, don’t you?’’ She wiped his face with the skirt of her apron and settled him in the corner of the kitchen in the pen Rand and Beans had fashioned from willow branches. She handed him a teething ring of braided cowhide, a kettle, some pans, and a wooden spoon. Perhaps he’d be a musician someday, much as he liked to bang on things.

  Ghost, the mottled cow dog snoozing by the front step, barked her ‘‘someone’s coming’’ announcement, and Ruby walked to the door in time to see Opal trot Bay up to the barn.

  Right after the sigh of relief that her little, or rather younger, sister—Opal now equaled her five foot seven inches—was home safe, Ruby wanted to go out and shake her. How many times had she reminded her to come straight home from school?

  ‘‘Come on, young man, you can help me get my point across.’’ She hoisted Per to her hip and headed out, thunder on her brow and gratitude in her heart. As soon as she saw Opal, she had an inkling something had happened. ‘‘Your hair is wet. How could you fall in the river from the road?’’

  Opal turned from unleashing the cinch. ‘‘I didn’t fall in. I went to wade and then couldn’t resist the water, so I went swimming.’’

  ‘‘That river’s still cold as ice. You’re going to catch your death swimming this early in the season.’’

  Per leaned toward Opal, arms outstretched, jabbering his plea.

  ‘‘Not all I almost caught,’’ Opal mumbled under her breath as she took her nephew in her arms. ‘‘You want to ride, big boy?’’ She set him in the saddle and held him there.

  ‘‘Don’t let Bay walk off with him.’’

  ‘‘Bay is ground tied. She won’t leave.’’ Opal motioned to the reins that reached from bit to ground. She grinned up at the baby now flapping his arms and his jaws at the horse. ‘‘He sure isn’t afraid of anything.’’

  ‘‘I think boys out here are born wanting to ride.’’ Ruby lifted her face to the sun. ‘‘Soon as you get unsaddled, you can help me bring the clothes in off the line and explain this adventure to me.’’

  Opal made a face, which made Per chortle with glee. Of course, just about anything made him laugh. A happier baby would be hard to find anywhere. ‘‘Here, you hold him up there a minute.’’ She glanced at Ruby over her shoulder. ‘‘I know. I’ll help right away, but I can give him a ride around the barn and the corrals.’’ While Ruby held Per in the saddle Opal tightened the cinch instead of releasing it and swung up behind Per, her arms circling him safe in the saddle in front of her.

  ‘‘You be careful now.’’

  ‘‘Ru-by.’’ The drawn out word adequately conveyed Opal’s long-term patience with her sister’s worriment.

  ‘‘Drop him off at the clothesline.’’ Ruby smiled at the laughter floating back from the two on the horse. Opal and Rand both had been taking Per on the horses since he could crawl, and now that he could walk around furniture, she’d have to bar the door to keep him safe. Mrs. Robertson had told her to tie him on a long line to the clothesline. That would give him some freedom, yet he wouldn’t get away. Knowing Per, he’d go from two steps to a dead run, anything to keep up with his father and Opal.

  Thinking on these things, Ruby grabbed a clothes basket off the porch and ambled on back to the clothesline behind the house. Ankle-high grass, grazed once by the riding horses, made her think of the weekly mown grass back at the Brandons’. The backyard had been like a park, with roses, flower beds, a kitchen garden, and both fruit and nut trees. No fruit-bearing trees here yet, but Rand had brought her two apple saplings from his last trip to Dickinson. The two starts could hardly be seen from the rail fence they’d put up to keep cows and deer out. Heard tell, Marquis de Mores had a fruit orchard well started, but she hadn’t gone to see it.

  She removed the clothespins, dropping them in the bag hanging on the line for just that purpose, and buried her face in the fragrance of sun-and-wind-dried sheets. They had used an abundance of lavender sachets in the linen closet in New York, but nothing smelled better than those dried by prairie sun and wind.

  ‘‘Here he is.’’ Opal stopped at the west post. ‘‘You’re acting a bit strange.’’

  ‘‘After this last winter I am intoxicated on the smells of spring.’’ Ruby crossed and took Per from Opal’s hands. When he looked over his shoulder and chattered at Opal, they both laughed. The frown on his wide forehead meant he’d rather ride.

  ‘‘Where’s Rand?’’

  ‘‘No, Opal, you’re not going to find him. I have need of you here.’’

  ‘‘All right. But if I headed out with the rifle, I could maybe find a nice buck. We’re a bit low on meat.’’

  Ruby shook her head and sat Per in the basket. With a giggle he set it to rocking. Everything moved when around that busy little body. Ghost wandered over and greeted him with a quick tongue swipe, then stood patiently while Per entwined his fingers in her hair. He pulled himself up, wobbling a bit and setting the basket to the same dance. His shout of glee made her laugh too.

  ‘‘You did it, son. Ghost, you are the best dog any little boy could have.’’ Ever since Per had been crawling, if the dog was in the house, he made a beeline for her. And even when he pulled her ears, she never growled or even moved away.

  Ruby had folded the sheets and towels and was beginning on the underthings when Opal returned. ‘‘You start with the socks, and put the ones that need mending off to the side. Those men go through more socks than I’d ever dreamed. I need Cimarron and her nimble needle to catch up on the mending.’’

  When Opal failed to respond, Ruby paused. ‘‘All right. What is it you need to tell me?’’

  ‘‘Nothing.’’

  ‘‘Opal, how many years have I been your older sister?’’

  ‘‘Going on fifteen.’’

  ‘‘Right. So what is bothering you?’’

  ‘‘Well, I told Mr. Finch that I felt sick, and I did. My head hurt so bad my eyes were crossing, so I left school early. But when I saw the river, I thought maybe that would make my headache go away, so I was just going to wade, but then it felt so good I went swimming.’’

  ‘‘Opal.’’

  ‘‘Oh, I had my drawers and camisole on. I wasn’t indecent or anything.’’

  ‘‘And. . . ?’’

  ‘‘This drifter found me, and . . .’’ Her words picked up speed like a cow running from the lasso. ‘‘And he was coming after me but his horse refused to go into the water and Atticus got in a fight with him and we left him strung up on a tree branch.’’

  ‘‘You hung him?’’ Ruby dropped the pants she was folding.

  ‘‘No. We wrapped the rope around his arms and left him just high enough his feet didn’t touch the ground. He was hollering something awful. Then I gave Atticus a ride back to town and came on home. I wasn’t going to tell you, but . . . well, someone most likely should go let him down, and if I tell Rand or the guys the whole story, they’ll probably shoot him or really string him up.’’

  Ruby closed her eyes, the scene painted all too clearly on the back of her eyelids. ‘‘Opal, you could have been—’’ ‘‘I know. It was dumb of me. But no one ever comes by that bend in the river unless it’s roundup time.’’

  ‘‘You don’t know who he was?’’

  ‘‘Never saw him before, but he wears his hat some funny. His horse ran off, so I suppose someone should go let him down. He probably stinks pretty raw by now. We scared him pretty bad.’’

  ‘‘Leave him there for the crows to pick on.’’ Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and finger to ease the dull throbbing that had started behind her eyes.

  ‘‘Ruby!’’ Shock saucered Opal’s eyes.

  ‘‘I know that’s not very Christia
n, but so many men out here are lower than the animals. Whatever happened to common decency?’’ Ruby picked up her son, who’d just thumped on his rear when Ghost barked and headed for the field. ‘‘I don’t know what to do, Opal. Why do you get in such scrapes? If you’d just come directly home, this wouldn’t be a problem.’’

  ‘‘We could leave him there and hope someone finds him in the next day or two.’’ She looked up in time to see Rand leading a saddled but riderless horse. ‘‘Uh-oh.’’

  Ruby shook her head. ‘‘You got yourself into this one, dear sister, and you are going to have to get yourself out. And I wouldn’t suggest playing dumb. Rand knows you far too well for that.’’ Ruby laid the folded clothes in the basket, pulled a stalk of grass from her son’s mouth, and with Per on her hip and the bag of clothespins in her other hand, motioned toward the high-piled basket. ‘‘You can bring that in after you go talk with Rand.’’

  ‘‘You could come with me, you know?’’

  ‘‘Nope, not this time.’’ Ruby ignored the look of pleading and continued on to the log house that looked as if it had sprouted years earlier right there out of the meadow instead of having been built only two years before.

  Standing down by the barn and the strange horse, Opal told Rand her story as simply as possible. When she could see his jaw whitening, she finished with, ‘‘But, Rand, I didn’t do anything wrong.’’

  ‘‘Specifically, no, but without thinking ahead, you put yourself in harm’s way, and it’s come out wrong all over the place.’’ Rand tipped his broad-brimmed hat back with one finger. He shook his head as he studied Opal’s face. ‘‘That man blabs around town, and you’ll never live it down. He’ll be the laughingstock, but it’s your reputation that is on the line.’’ He shook his head. ‘‘Ruby’s right.’’

  ‘‘What do you mean by that?’’