Ruth (6 page)

Mary snuggled tighter in her blanket. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to follow Dylan when he rides out of town at daybreak.”

“Follow him!”

“Shhh!”
Ruth clamped a hand over Mary’s mouth, her eyes darting to the sleeping women. “Just for a little way. Then, when it’s too late for the marshall to turn around and bring me back, he’ll be forced to let me ride with him.”

“Are you nuts, girl?” Harper threw the covers aside and sprang to her feet. Ringlets of tight curly hair stood up like porcupine quills. “That man will hog-tie you and haul you back here like a sack of flour!”

“Ssssssssssh!”

Two more heads popped out from beneath the covers. “What are you
sssssssh
ing for?” Lily sat up, scratching her head. “Did you honestly think we could sleep through all this racket?” Beside her, Patience nodded.

“Sorry,” Ruth mumbled. “But I don’t have a lot of time.” She continued throwing things into the sack.

Yawning, Patience peered out the window. “What time is it? It’s still dark.”

“It’s late,” Ruth said.
And getting later every moment.

“What are you going to do if the marshall decides to ride on by himself?” Harper lit the candle on the nightstand, and the room came to light. “He could, you know. Don’t seem likes he’s the type to let a woman trick him into anything.”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Ruth paused. Would he? No, he wouldn’t. Dylan was stubborn, but he wouldn’t leave a woman in the Colorado wilderness alone and unprotected. She’d seen him be polite to other women—rarely to her, but she’d witnessed enough to know he wouldn’t allow harm to befall any woman in his presence. And she planned to stick to him like honey.

“What are you going to do in Wyoming?” This came from Patience, who yawned in midsentence.

“Find my cousin Milford. Actually, I suppose Milford is a stepcousin—” Actually, Ruth didn’t know how to think of Edgar Norris’s kin. As relative? distant relative? Milford was the only hope she had right now, however distant he was. “Milford lives in Pear Branch, Wyoming—or he did ten years ago. The marshall has to go through Wyoming to get to Utah. All I have to do is trail along if he refuses to help me.”

Ruth didn’t fool herself; it would be most difficult to locate Milford after all these years, but she would work her way through the state until she found him. There was always the possibility that he had moved, but she doubted it. The Norris family were solid folk. Edgar had spoken often of his brother’s youngest son who had made a name for himself in banking at a very early age. Once a Norris planted roots in fertile soil, that’s where he stayed. Milford had written a few letters in the earlier years, but then the correspondence had ceased. Ruth figured he had married and filed the memory of his uncle’s adopted daughter languishing away in a Missouri orphanage to a far corner of his mind.

“Oh, Ruth, I don’t like this plan.” Lily got out of bed and wrapped a robe tightly around her. “Dylan is going to be so angry when he discovers that you’ve followed him. It’s almost winter—the weather will be dreadful soon. I know that you plan to follow him and eventually overtake him, but what if you lose sight of him out there in the mountains? You could, you know. Very easily.”

The others nodded in solemn agreement.

“You could die out there, with Dylan never even aware of your presence,” added Harper.

“Not to mention that a single lady would never travel with an unmarried man,” Patience put in. “Why, the stares you would encounter would ruin your name, Ruth. And you’re going to hurt poor Oscar’s feelings.”

“What name?” Ruth pitched a man’s shirt in the knapsack. She favored men’s warm clothing over skirts and petticoats, and had worn them often on the trail from Westport to Denver City. All the girls had. “I have no name, no family to disgrace, and forgive me, Patience, but Oscar’s feelings are the least of my problems. Nobody knows me, and furthermore it wouldn’t matter if they did. I will never see my accusers again once I’ve ridden away.” She stared at the pair of male britches in her hand. “Besides, no one will know I’m a woman. That’s where I need your help.”

The four women frowned and exchanged puzzled looks.

“I’ll dress like a boy.” She looked up to meet her friends’ eyes. “I only have half an hour to get ready. I need men’s clothing, boots, and a hat. And a warm coat and gloves.” Ruth stared at the women, whose jaws were agape now. “Will you help me? I’m intent on doing this with or without your help.”

Lily snapped out of her trance first. “Ruth, you don’t know the dangers—weather, a woman on her own—why, you’ll be traveling with a handsome, single man. It would be very easy to fall under Marshall McCall’s spell—”

“Ha!” Ruth stuck a pair of heavy stockings in the sack. “That I can promise will never happen. The man is despicable—a heathen of the worst sort. He could be the last man left on earth and I would not be the least bit tempted.”

As if she even cared about a man, period. Any man was safe with her. God had evidently preordained that she was to live her life alone—or perhaps with Milford and his family. She could help with Milford’s children—be a overness. No, not a governess. She would become attached to the children and she couldn’t afford that—not when she knew she’d never have children of her own.

“All the more reason for caution,” Lily reminded. “If the marshall is really this awful—”

“Please.” Ruth stopped what she was doing and turned to face the women with pained tolerance. She closed her eyes. “Please. You’re the only family I have. If you don’t help, then I’ll have to do this myself, and there’s so little time.” She pleaded silently with each girl. If they didn’t help . . .

Harper sighed. “I say you’re nuts, but I’ll help.”

Mary slowly nodded. “I’ll help—but it’s against my better judgment. I love you, Ruth. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

Ruth reached over to give Mary and Harper a hug.

“Count me in,” Lily said. “Only I feel the same as Mary. This is crazy and dangerous, but I see you have your mind set.”

“Coming all the way from Westport to Denver City was crazy and dangerous,” Ruth argued. “We do what we have to do.”

Patience joined the circle of hugs. “You know I would do anything for you, Ruth, but I’m still concerned about poor Oscar.”

The girls burst into tears, hugging each other. When the moment passed, Ruth wiped her eyes. “Okay. Dylan will be leaving soon. I need those men’s clothes. And a horse.”

“Of course,” Harper groused. “A horse. And me without a magic wand.”

Patience had started to dress. “You leave the horse to me. I know where I can find one.”

“I’ll take care of the men’s clothes,” Harper volunteered. “We’ll get some from Pastor Siddons. Me, Lily, and Patience will make him new pants and shirts—I don’t know what we’ll do about the coat and gloves. We’ll find something.”

“I’ll gather enough food for a week—will that be enough?” Mary peered at Ruth.

“I’ll make it last. In a week I should be able to reveal myself to Dylan.”

“Whoooee,” Harper grumbled. “That’s gonna be a day of reckoning. And we’re gonna have to be real careful or our stay in the pastor’s house will be compromised.”

Ruth knew the encounter wouldn’t be pleasant, but she’d face that battle when it happened. “We’ll be careful, and we won’t take anything that we can’t replace or that we haven’t earned.”

The girls flew into action. Patience and Lily went after the horse. They’d take one of Tom Wyatt’s mares; the girls figured he owed them that. Harper gathered warm shirts and heavy pants, tiptoeing softly about the Siddonses’ bedroom as the older couple snored, unaware of the subterfuge taking place under their roof.

“We’ll pay you back, sir and ma’am,” the black girl whispered as she eased out of the bedroom and closed the door. “It ain’t like we’re stealing or nuthin’—we’re just borrowing in a pinch.”

Pink was barely creasing the sky when the girls hefted a boyish-looking Ruth up into the saddle. Handing Ruth a sack of bread and cheese and a canteen of water, Mary smiled. “Be careful—our prayers go with you.”

“Turn around and come back if you see this isn’t going to work. Promise?” Lily grasped Ruth’s hand tightly.

“Word of honor.” Ruth returned the pressure. With a smile, Ruth whirled the mare and galloped off.

The women listened until the sound of hoofbeats disappeared into the mountainside. The sun broke through over the mountaintop, giving birth to a new day.

“This makes me as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs,” Harper breathed, wrapping herself tighter in a heavy shawl. Her breath came in frosty whiffs. “That girl’s got David’s courage.”

“Yes,” Patience murmured, “but this time I fear she’s taken on more than a giant.”

Ruth rode well to the rear of the marshall’s path. Sheer elation fueled her, and she discovered a new world in the heady, brisk mountain air. The small mare was an easy ride, and she had no trouble keeping pace.

As brilliant warmth spread over the hillsides, she spotted a herd of elk feeding in a valley. The magnificent animals’ young gathered close, but apparently they scented no threat as Ruth passed by on an upper ledge. Deer grazed in nearby thickets. Blue jays chattered noisily overhead. Her first day out was an adventure Ruth would never forget.

She tipped her face to the sun’s rays and thanked God that she had escaped marriage to Oscar Fleming and that she would soon be reunited with family—albeit distant—she had gained the day two Sioux braves had dropped her at the orphanage after her parents died. She tried to picture Milford from the tintype the Norrises had kept on their parlor table. He’d always looked the bookish sort. His eyesight was poor, to the extent he’d worn glasses since an early age. His frail body didn’t appear very manly, but he had a poet’s heart, Mrs. Norris claimed. Not exactly the exciting sort of man to turn a woman’s head, but a very good man. Ruth would be glad to meet Milford for the first time, and she fervently hoped he would react kindly to her unexpected visit.

That night Ruth camped early, following the marshall’s lead. She could see smoke from his campfire through towering bare aspens. She did not build a fire; though she craved the warmth, the risk of attention deterred her. She ate cold cheese and bread and drank water from the canteen. Then she opened her journal and while it was still light wrote:

Day One

It has been a most wondrous day, Lord. Thank you for keeping me safe thus far. I saw elk, deer, birds, and a wild turkey just before dusk. Dylan is unaware of my presence. The weather is mild for the eighth day of November; the sky is crystalline blue. I am tired but very happy as I write this.

Sighing, Ruth repacked the journal and rolled up into her sleeping bag to read the Bible by the last rays of light.

The wind picked up as Ruth saddled up and rode out of camp the next morning. She’d been awake since long before dawn. She didn’t want to lag too far behind Dylan, and she wasn’t sure what time he’d leave. So she’d played it safe, waking long before he would wake up. She waited until sunlight barely streaked the sky before she set out.

Within the hour she picked up fresh horse tracks. Smiling, she settled back in the leather saddle to enjoy the day. Animals seemed to be scarce today; by midmorning she spotted a lone hawk flying low to the ground. The wind blew harder and dark clouds skidded across a pewter-colored sky. By late morning she was clinging to the pommel, trying to hang on as a gale cut across mountain passes and howled like a banshee. Nothing fell from the threatening sky, but Ruth knew she would be fighting rain or snow before nightfall.

In the middle of the afternoon, Ruth stopped to water the horse and eat. Both of her arms felt like wet sponges from gripping the saddle horn. As she climbed back on the horse and tied herself in the saddle, she silently thanked Lily for the piece of rope she had thoughtfully included. Twice she’d considered turning around and going back, but then Oscar would pop into her mind. She couldn’t go back—she couldn’t fail. The wind would eventually die; then things would be better.