Calico Brides Page 22

  Ruth said, “Dru will be visiting with us in the parlor, so you can visit privately. Allan—you may wish to peruse the study. Papa brought home some new books when he went to Topeka last week.”

  “Thanks.” Allan disappeared down the hallway before his uncle could call him back, and Dru followed at a slower pace, entering the parlor to warm greetings.

  Beau didn’t move in the direction of the kitchen, his eyes fixed on the floor. He rubbed the brim of his hat. Without lifting his head, he asked, “Is Miss Landry here? Mr. Finnegan referred me to her.”

  Ruth could think of only one reason Ned would refer Beau to Birdie. She tensed, grateful he wasn’t looking up and so couldn’t spot the anger she couldn’t keep from her face. She drew in a breath before she answered. “Yes, Birdie is here. Come join us when you finish your business with my mother.” She escaped to the parlor before he looked up and caught her expression.

  From her spot on the sofa, Dru was rolling skeins of yarn into balls. Ruth was glad the girl had a day off. She’d make a good teacher someday if God led her that way. If her uncle allowed her to finish the additional schooling she would need. And if she didn’t fall in love and get married, like most young women. Charlotte had strongly supported the idea, but Beau didn’t value the same things his sister had.

  Birdie pushed her needle in and out of the hem of a black gored skirt. “Dru says Mr. Blanton wishes to speak to me.” She peeked up from the fabric in her lap. “Is that all right with you?”

  Dru’s eyes widened in surprise and her mouth opened.

  “I suppose any way they get the clothes they need is acceptable.” Ruth’s throat tightened as she forced the words out of her throat. “It seems all God wants from me is to help people who come to us for help, but I was already doing that.” How she wanted a chance to do something significant. Be a missionary to China. Run an orphanage. Even just marry a good man. She loved teaching, but some days she wanted more from life. It seemed instead of her helping Beau, he was helping her by forcing her to examine her life.

  Birdie narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Blanton’s arrival in town is timely. Naomi is ready to join Michal and me if we have enough work, and Orpah is in need of work until Gladys is ready to leave the diner. If he is willing to have someone with our history working in his home, that is.” She secured the needle in the fabric and patted Ruth’s knee. “You do the Lord’s work every day. The other day I read in the Bible that the soldiers who fight in the battle should share the spoils of war with those who stay with the supplies. God knows each and every thing you do day in and day out for the needy around us.”

  She started working the needle again. Dru had finished balling the yarn and started casting stitches onto a pair of knitting needles.

  Annie giggled. “If you really want to sew for Mr. Blanton, you could sew the clothes and Birdie could pretend she made them.”

  That drew an answering giggle from Dru.

  Ruth took a moment to picture a dress made in a cheerful yellow calico before shaking her head. “It’s not the same. He will still insist on paying you—”

  “And of course I’ll give you the money.”

  “But that defeats my reason for doing this.”

  “I could talk to him…” Dru stuck her needle into the first stitch, but the movement was awkward. The stitches were probably too tight, the way most of her knitting started. “No,” the women chorused.

  “I’ll find a way to speak with him,” Ruth said. “Just promise me you’ll be praying for me.”

  “Always.” Gladys smiled. “You don’t have to ask.”

  “Are these women”—Beau couldn’t bring himself to call them “ladies”—“the only ones looking for work?”

  “They are the ones most in need of gainful employment. God has been doing a tremendous work among the women who lived in that unfortunate place. No one was more surprised than I was when Miss Landry came to us, about a year and a half ago now, hungry for God and desperate to leave that life. Because of her testimony, we’ve seen at least one woman leave each month. They are willing to work hard and are thankful for the opportunity.”

  “But Dru…” Beau couldn’t believe he was even considering the possibility. “She’d be a bad influence on Dru. I’m sure of it.”

  “She’d be an excellent example of God’s grace and His transforming power. I agree that she should maintain her home in town. You both want to avoid any appearance of evil.”

  “I will think about it.” Although Beau already knew he would rather accept Ruth’s help than hire a former soiled dove. The longer he lived in Calico, the more strange facts about the town he discovered. Ladies on a mission to make a difference. A hermit brought out of self-imposed solitude. Prostitutes leaving their employment and being accepted as part of the community. An entire fort outfitted by a single woman. Not to mention an interfering schoolteacher, although that might not be so strange. As a cowboy, he didn’t have exposure to towns much beyond trail drives, and Dodge City was nothing like Calico. No wonder Charlotte liked living here.

  Asking Miss Landry to make their clothes didn’t feel as out of place as inviting a woman to help with housework. Their business could all be conducted through a third party, such as Ned Finnegan. Now there was a strange pairing. He shook his head. If God had found such a—colorful—wife for the bland shopkeeper, maybe He had someone in store for Beau. Someone as spontaneous as Beau was reserved, someone as giving as he was cautious…someone like…Ruth. Don’t even think like that.

  After Beau finished the plate of cookies Mrs. Fairfield had served him, he ventured down the hallway to the remaining rooms. From the parlor, he heard feminine voices and soft laughter. He hurried past, looking for Allan. A door stood open to the left, and he poked his head inside. Allan’s fingers traced the lines of text before he turned the page. Since he appeared unaware of his uncle’s arrival, Beau cleared this throat.

  Allan dropped the book on the desk. “Are you ready to leave?”

  “Almost.” Beau surveyed the room. He couldn’t imagine a single person needing so many books, when he only had one to his name, the Bible his mother had given him. “I wonder if Pastor Fairfield has read all these books.” He approached a shelf, studying the titles stamped on the spines. Some of them didn’t even seem to be in English.

  “Yes.” Allan didn’t seem to find that unusual. “Most of them he’s read several times. He gave me a new book to read every week when we stayed here this summer. Today he said he had a new book for me to take with me. And we could talk about it when I come to church.” He pointed to the book on the desk. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  Beau stared. Why anyone would choose to read when he could be outside under God’s heaven baffled him to start with. But the wistful look on Allan’s face stumped him. “As long as you read in the evening, after the day’s work is done.”

  “Great!” Allan sprang to his feet, clutching the book as if he might lose it if he loosened his hold.

  “You have a few minutes. I have some business to discuss with Miss Landry.” At the door to the parlor, Beau paused. Dru was laughing. Laughing. At the soddy, she always seemed so serious. He had treasured the quiet, but laughter was even better.

  He rounded the corner, and the smile disappeared from Dru’s face. “Is it time to go?”

  “In a few minutes.”

  “Have a seat.” Ruth gestured to a comfortable-looking chair next to a table with a Bible, a book Beau didn’t recognize, and a pair of reading glasses. “Papa won’t care.”

  Beau studied the women around the room, trying to guess which name went with which woman. Ruth was the epitome of a schoolteacher. He’d guess either the blond or the redhead was the former saloon girl, although the brunette was pretty enough. This group had turned the town upside down. Only Ruth had remained relatively uninvolved, from what he had heard. As part of the pastor’s family, she did a lot for others all the time. As a teacher, she exercised more influence on the future of Calico than almo
st anyone in town.

  Given the fire in Ruth’s eyes when Beau asked Miss Landry to sew for him, he knew she wanted more. For some reason unknown to him, she felt God had something else for her to do.

  Beau had always trusted his own judgment. Only now, when a spitfire of a teacher challenged his long-held opinions, did he question himself.

  And he didn’t like it.

  Chapter 6

  I’m sorry, but I’m unable to take on your project at this time.” Birdie Landry smiled as she said the disappointing words. “If you can wait for two months, after Miss Kate marries Mr. Keller, I can work on it then.”

  Since Ned had said she might be able to help, Beau found the situation confusing. Miss Landry exchanged glances with Miss Polson, who was engaged to the young Haydn Keller, from what he understood. “But Ruth has offered to make whatever you need, now, and she won’t ask money for it.” Her brilliant smile made it impossible for Beau to refuse without appearing mean-spirited.

  Pleasure lit Dru’s face, giving her a moment of carefree happiness. Cautious pleasure chased surprise off Ruth’s face. “You might even say I consider it my mission in life.”

  Her mission? Beau’s ire rose at that description. He wasn’t a grumpy hermit, nor did he frequent the saloon. He was a simple, hardworking man, taking care of his family the best way he knew how.

  But he couldn’t sew. “You won’t accept money no matter how much I insist, will you?”

  Ruth shook her head. Miss Landry chuckled. “I did the same to Ned. He kept looking for ways to help me, but I insisted I pay my own way. I didn’t have the money to buy buttons, thread, and other sewing notions, so he had people drop buttons and other things in a button jar and fooled me into accepting the gift.”

  “In other words, you’d better accept the clothes before Ruth figures out a way around your objections.” Gladys nodded her head emphatically. “She loves your niece and nephews. Let her do it for them if not for you.”

  “I give up!” Beau threw his hands in the air. “I accept whatever you have already made but no more. And actually, I have another area where I need your help.”

  What? Mr. No-thank-you-I’ll-do-it-myself was asking for help? Instead of the pleasant expression she wished she could freeze on her face, Ruth was sure her shock at his statement must shine from every pore.

  Beau laughed, a deep, hearty, masculine, happier sound than she had ever heard from him. “You are the only schoolteacher I know of in Calico, and I believe Guy could benefit from your help as he starts his job.”

  His words distressed Ruth anew. First Beau pulled Allan, who loved school, and now Guy would also work? Allan had motivation to learn on his own, but Guy needed a teacher’s guidance more. What was next? Would he ask Dru to stay home to take care of the house?

  As the daughter of a man who had attended seminary and a mother who taught school before her marriage, education had always mattered to Ruth. “I’ll be happy to help Guy in any way I can.” She felt compelled to address the issue of school attendance. “But at school the other students are also a great help. They explain things in different ways to each other.”

  “He’s not that fond of school.” Beau’s face twisted in puzzlement. “That’s no reflection on you. I’m sure you are a good teacher. He’s looking forward to working where he can make a difference.”

  In Ruth’s opinion, school attendance should be required and not left to choice. Not everyone agreed, of course. Charlotte had always insisted her children attend school, even when Guy swore never to return after sitting in the corner with a dunce cap on his first day.

  Ruth blinked at the memory. “Tell me about this job.”

  “The bank needs a clerk. I know Guy’s not that good at arithmetic, but I was hoping you could help him improve his skills. Then maybe he could take over the books at the ranch as well.”

  Ruth coughed and covered her mouth to hide her dismay. Maybe if she explained, Beau would understand. From what Charlotte had said, he was a reasonable man. “I’d be happy to help Guy keep up with his schooling. Allan as well. Allan was one of my best students last year. Charlotte and Percy had high hopes for him. In fact, Allan could tutor Guy.”

  A glimmer of something—disappointment? Dis-couragement?—flittered across Beau’s face. “Allan already has his hands full with the farm. He was moping about school so much that I promised him he could continue lessons with you if he didn’t go around quoting poetry all day long.”

  Ruth’s heart sank another inch. Schooling wasn’t the only problem. Allan’s heart wasn’t in the farm. Maybe Beau needed more time to recognize that. If she could get a job for Allan at the newspaper, Haydn could discuss subjects like philosophy and the classics with him as well as the prospects for this year’s crops.

  Beau’s face darkened, and Ruth bit her lip. Forgive me, Lord, for wanting to interfere where it’s none of my business. “Of course I will do everything I can to help. For any interested students, we offer a reading club, music lessons, a class in the wifely arts. We’re also looking for men to teach our boys useful skills. The children are welcome to attend any of those classes, and I would be happy to tutor Allan and Guy two days a week.” Ruth caught herself. The way she was prattling on, Beau would think she was as bad as the older girls in her class, who turned into chattering magpies as soon as a handsome lad caught their eyes.

  Beau rubbed his chin. “I might consider teaching a boys’ class next year. Right now it’s taking twenty-five hours out of every twenty-hour for Allan and me to try to get some kind of crop out of the ground before winter comes.”

  Of course. “How foolish of me to suggest he do anything other than farm.” Flames licked her face, a rare fit of anger building up in her.

  “Ruth?” Mama called to her from the kitchen. “Would you come in here and give me a hand, please?”

  “I’ll be right back.” When Ruth stepped into the kitchen, she didn’t see any work to be done.

  “Come over here by me.” Mama stood by the window, looking out on the apple tree that provided shade in the summer, fruit in the fall, and preserves year round. “Sounds as though you need to go outside and look for any fruit that’s ripened early. Unless you think you can bring yourself under control.” She leveled a look at Ruth that could have sunk the Spanish Armada. “That poor man is our guest. He’s just lost his only sister and found himself a father overnight. I know you don’t like the way he’s handling things, but don’t you dare say a thing against him.” Mama paused. “He’s not doing any harm to those young folks, is he?”

  “Not unless you call wasting a good mind harm, which I do.” Ruth joined her mother at the window. “You’re right; he’s been gentle with them as far as I can tell. We just have different ideas about what’s best.”

  “So did Barnabas and Paul about John Mark, and look what God did with that. Doubled the number of missionary teams. You just keep doing what God has called you to do. Teach. Sometimes it’s in the classroom and sometimes it’s by the side of the road.” Mama broke a gingersnap in two and handed her half. “Maybe one day you may even find yourself teaching a certain farmer a thing or two about raising children.”

  Ruth almost choked on the cookie.

  Mama hugged her. “Have you calmed down enough to go back in the room and be nice to Mr. Blanton?”

  Ruth nodded. Shame followed on the heels of her earlier anger. Beau was standing, as if waiting for her return. Was it her imagination, or did a shadow of shame lie on his features as well?

  “So can you tutor Guy and Allan on Mondays and Thursdays?” Beau repeated his earlier request.

  “Of course.” Ruth extended her hand to shake his. “It will be my pleasure. I love teaching.”

  His hand lingered on hers. “Once my life settles down, I’d like to teach the young men. I just can’t do it right now.”

  “That would be wonderful if you want to. But not everyone is meant to be a teacher. Or a farmer.”

  After he dropped her hand an
d said good-bye, Ruth realized she hadn’t thought about Allan once when she said not everyone was meant to be a farmer or a teacher.

  She’d been too busy thinking about the tall, handsome farmer who was holding the teacher’s hand.

  Chapter 7

  Guy stomped up the steps to the parsonage door. Allan followed right behind, shaking his head at his brother’s behavior.

  Not a good day. Today the boys might need more than Ruth’s tutoring.

  “I’ve got them a bite to eat. That might help,” Mama whispered in Ruth’s ear.

  Ruth waved them inside. “Good evening, Guy, Allan.” Ink and lead smudges darkened the knuckles of Guy’s calloused hands. “Let’s start in the kitchen. We can spread out our work there.”

  Guy slammed the textbook on the table. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t do arithmetic.”

  Ruth bit back her automatic response of “Of course you can.” She had found that facts mattered little when a person’s emotions were involved. “I know it doesn’t come easy to you. I appreciate your hard work.”

  “Work.” Guy made it sound like a curse. “The bank manager fired me today. I made too many mistakes in my figuring.” He broke a gingersnap between his teeth with an angry crunch.

  Allan held out the chair for Ruth, and she slid into it soundlessly. He quietly set his satchel on the floor. The silence lengthened as if the boys waited for Teacher to perform some kind of magic on Guy’s situation.

  “Oh Guy. I’m so sorry.” Her brain stumbled for a response.

  “And Uncle Beau, he’s going to be mighty upset with me.”

  “From what I’ve seen, your uncle is a reasonable man.” Ruth hoped one of the boys would speak up if they had a cause for concern.

  “He would never hurt us.” Allan must have sensed her worries. “But he does have high expectations of all of us. He keeps telling us how he’s been a working cowboy since he was Guy’s age.” A slight shudder ran through Allan. Had his uncle been encouraging Guy to quit school and go to work?