Letter Perfect ( Book #1) (3 page)
Mama smiled and Bernadette laughed at all the right moments. Ruth resolved she’d spin tales from here to eternity if it made them happy. She could even look back now and see humor in some of the more painful episodes. With the proper perspective, she could slant just about any story into a vignette to entertain Mama.
“Where are those birds now?” Bernadette silently urged Leticia to eat a bite.
“Those little robins are so perky. When I freed them, they nested in the tree just outside my window.”
“God smiled on you, just as I prayed He would.” Mama finally took a tiny bite of pound cake.
“As for that poor roasting pan—” Ruth shook her head sorrowfully. “No matter how much I scrubbed it, Cook wouldn’t use that thing again. I still can’t imagine why.” She let out a laugh. “I tried to convince her that a bird is a bird. She’d just be putting a bigger, plucked one in it is all.”
Mama and Bernadette laughed, and Ruth knew she’d come home.
Only home had changed.
Six months passed. Day by day, Leticia grew weaker, thinner. Only her spirit stayed strong—that, and her faith in the Lord.
Ruth did her best to keep her mother’s spirits up. All through the fall season, she filled the room with colorful arrangements of flowers and leaves. During the winter, swags of holiday ribbons and pine decorated the drapery rods. Spring dawned, and the fresh greenery and sprouts everywhere promised life’s renewal—all except for Mama.
Dr. Sanborn dropped in frequently. His medical interventions made no difference, but he always made it a point to rest his hand on Mama’s shoulder and say a prayer of comfort. One afternoon, after the prayer, he subtly tilted his head toward the door. Ruth followed him from the room.
“She has little time left, Miss Caldwell. We have nothing to offer physically, but her spiritual and emotional welfare are of the utmost import. I’m glad to see you’re reading the Bible to her.” He paused. “She confided to me that she worries about your future. Any parent would fret over leaving an only child alone. I’ve remarked on your independence and courage. Let those qualities continue to shine forth. They give her great comfort.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Late that night as Ruth sat by the bedside and held her mother’s hand, Mama gave her a squeeze. “I’ve thought things through. I want you to know I’ve prayed hard about it,” Mama said.
“Prayed about what?”
“What is to become of you. I want you to promise me you’ll follow my plan.”
“You don’t need to trouble yourself, Mama. I’ll be fine.”
“First, I want you to promise me you’ll not wear mourning. When God takes me home, I don’t want you to wallow in that dreariness.”
“Mama—”
“Dear,” Mama gave her a brave smile, “we know I’m heaven bound. I don’t want to look down from paradise and see you in crow black. I want my daughter to carry on and live life to the fullest.”
“What I wear doesn’t matter.”
“Then you’ll humor me.” She drew in a shallow breath, paused, and let it out. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“Bernadette and Hadley will be here.”
“No. I wrote a letter. It’s in my top bureau drawer. Send it by that new Pony Express you read to me about, and then prepare to take a trip by stage.”
“Letter? Trip? I don’t understand.”
“I want you to go to your father.”
“Father?” Ruth gawked at her mother. Mama never spoke of the man whom she married. Not even once.
Grandfather never mentioned him either. But on her twelfth birthday, Ruth had gathered her courage and asked about her father. Grandfather made it clear her father was a “rascal, a blackguard, and a miscreant.” Grandfather never spoke ill of anyone, so his low opinion of the man who’d wed his daughter let Ruth know her father must be wicked beyond telling.
“When I took sick, I asked Hadley to make inquiries. I was unfair to your father—he never knew I was carrying you when he sent me away. He had personal difficulties, but he’s overcome them. Hadley reported he’s developed laudable character.”
“Regardless of Father’s change, your situation is far more important to me. I’m not leaving your side, Mama.”
“The time’s come for you to meet your father.”
“If you truly wish me to meet him, I’ll go—but not until after Jesus takes you home.”
Mama closed her eyes. Ruth wasn’t sure whether it was out of exhaustion, disappointment, or relief. “My place is with you, Mama. Deep in my heart I know it’s true. Don’t ask me to leave you.”
Leticia opened her eyes. Tears shimmered in them. “Stay with him—live there. He’s family.”
“This is silly, Mama. I’m not going to need to send that letter for ages.”
Her mother shook her head sadly, then coughed. “It’s my dying wish, Ruth. Please promise me you’ll go and live there, no matter what.”
My dying wish
. Mama wasn’t being theatrical; the truth was plain as could be. All of the months of pretense were stripped away in one stark comment. Ruth wanted to bury her face in Mama’s lap and weep like a little child. She wanted to fall to her knees and plead with God to intervene with a miraculous recovery. Instead, she covered Mama’s hand and nodded. “Because I love you so much, I promise I’ll go.”
B
roken P Ranch, Folsom, California.
Josh McCain, Jr. read the flowing, feminine script on the envelope and flipped it over to see if anything was written on the back. “Odd. No name—just the ranch and no return address?”
A companion
for Laney?
The smile that accompanied the thought made the skin on his wind-chapped face stretch and sting.
“Well?” Lester, the postmaster, prodded. “Recognize the writing after all? Good thing you came to town. That came by Pony Express, so I knew it was important. Been sittin’ here for more than a week, and I’ve been itching to know who the mystery writer is.”
“So am I.” Joshua paced over to a bentwood chair. He lowered himself until the cane seat crackled and moaned beneath his strapping build. He waggled his brows at Lester. “I think maybe I finally got a response to my inquiry about a companion for my sister.”
“Imagine!” Lester leaned over the counter. “You gonna read it aloud?”
“No.” Joshua stuck a callused thumb under the edge of the beige vellum envelope and swiped along the edge. The lavender wax seal hinted that the sender wasn’t just an ordinary woman. She was dainty and classy, too.
Good. She and Laney’ll get along well together
.
Joshua wiped his palms down the thighs of his pants to make sure he didn’t leave smudges on the note. Laney set store by little details like that, and since she’d want to save the missive, Josh reckoned keeping it clean was the least he could do. He drew out the folded pages. Even though the letter had been stuck in the bottom of the leather Pony Express bag, the paper still felt crisp.
Dear Sir,
I am sending you Ruth.
Ruth. A Bible name. Old-fashioned. Feminine. My sister’s future companion
is named Ruth. Maybe she’ll have us call her Ruthie. And she’s coming! I
guess the stipend I offered was generous enough. Good. I want Laney to have
someone here as soon as possible
. He stopped musing and read on.
She’s nineteen.
Younger than I planned, but that’s not a bad thing. Nineteen. Old enough
to be capable. Young enough to have energy
.
She has abundant blond hair, green eyes, and a willowy
build. I am certain you’ll recognize her the moment she
steps from the stage.
Oh, I’ll be certain to recognize her. A pretty, slender, green-eyed blonde
.
It has been a very difficult decision to send her to you. I
reared her to be a godly young woman and worry about
unwholesome influences, should you not permit her the
freedom to follow the dictates of her heart. I place her
entirely in your hands, for she will now be your responsibility.
I beg you, please honor her Christian beliefs.
What a dear woman. I’ll have to write her a letter of reassurance at once.
Knowing she sent Ruth to a home with believers will ease her mind
.
Though Ruth’s arrival will undoubtedly cause a minor
stir, I ask you to do your best to shield her. Surely she
deserves your protection. Ruth reads voluminously and
has passable skill with a needle. She sings like a nightingale,
has a tender heart, and her gregarious nature
proves she is your daughter.
Joshua’s delight altered to confusion. Daughter? Impossible! At twenty-four he couldn’t have a nineteen-year-old! He scowled at the letter while hastily scanning the remainder.
That being said, I must also warn you that at times, your
daughter is given to exuberance. Her compassion and
creativity have been known to get her into trouble, and
she inherited your strong streak of stubbornness.
Though her very existence has undoubtedly come as a
great shock, one look at her will quell any misgivings you
have regarding the veracity of her claim to your name.
I’m certain you’ll quickly come to see she also inherited
your spirited personality.
As I write this, my health is failing. Our daughter
has no one but you. I pray you will treat her kindly and
that she will adjust well.
It is, I believe, a case of ironic justice that you are
now faced with the consequences of your choices. I suffered
them during our misbegotten union and tried my
best to protect Ruth from your influence. Nonetheless,
history repeats itself. You sent me back to my father; I
now send your daughter to you. The difference is, you
pushed me away in anger. I’m sending Ruth out of desperation.
She has no one else to whom she can turn, no
place else to go. Our daughter deserves to find happiness,
and I pray you’ll find joy in her company.
All these years, I have honored our agreement. I have
never again spoken your name or crossed your land. Now
I must ask this one thing of you—to welcome the child
you never knew. It is too late for me to do anything
more. Give her the love you withheld from me. Ruth
deserves at least that much.
Your dutiful wife,
Leticia
Joshua stood and headed for the door.
“Hey!” Lester shouted. “What did she say?”
“It wasn’t a response for a companion.” He said nothing more. If Josh had his way, he’d nip this problem in the bud.
He stepped out of the mercantile into the gloomy afternoon and squinted at the low-lying, gray clouds that only served to make the unseasonable April heat even more oppressive. His mood matched the sky. Not that he was a grasping or greedy man, but his family owned the Broken P. Before they arrived, Alan Caldwell just about ran the place into the ground—mostly because he’d been living in the bottom of a whiskey bottle. Just prior to the ranch going under the gavel, the McCains and Caldwell made a gentlemen’s agreement. On that handshake, they’d been “partners,” and Joshua and his father spent every last dollar they owned and every drop of sweat they could muster to put the ranch back in the black.
Josh needed help finding out where Alan Caldwell’s “widow” lived. He’d send a missive informing her of Alan’s death so she’d not send Ruth. The one person in town who might know where Leticia Caldwell resided would be the town’s only attorney, Rick Maltby.
Josh paused a moment, yanked off his hat, and wiped his brow with a bandana as he devised a plan to handle this situation. Moments later, his spurs jangled on the boardwalk as he started down the street.
