The Turn of a Wheel (Kansas Crossroads Book 17) Page 6

  He sat up a little straighter, focusing now. That would be his goal—he would live long enough to call her by her Christian name. He would not die on this prairie—that would be an unutterable waste of a life.

  After they’d ridden for some time, Jack motioned for them to come to a halt by a small stream. Alex recognized it as the place where they’d watered the horses earlier that day.

  “I need to take a look at that wound,” Jack said as he helped Alex slide to the ground. “I’m not goin’ to untie Irish’s bandage here, but I want to see what’s goin’ on around it and under it.”

  He led Alex right to the water’s edge and helped him get a drink. It wasn’t as fresh-tasting as Alex would have liked, but it was cold and clear, and eased the dryness in his throat. Then Jack pulled Alex’s pant leg away from the wound and poured some water over the bandage, washing away the blood and giving himself a better view of the situation.

  “That’s some bullet hole you’ve got there,” he said, letting out a whistle. “You’ll have a story to go with it, too.”

  “Not much of one,” Alex replied through gritted teeth. That water was stinging like a hive of hornets. “I was shot with a concealed weapon, and mostly because I was in the way. It could have been any one of us.”

  “We’ll let you take the glory.” Jack grinned. “Could you handle anything to eat?”

  The very idea made Alex’s stomach roil. “Not right now, thanks.”

  “Then let’s keep going.”

  They mounted again and continued their ride. Alex lost track of time—how far had they come? Had they passed last night’s camping spot yet, or was that still up ahead? He had to trust that Jack knew the way—the terrain looked the same to him as it had for hours now, and if it were up to him to navigate, they’d get lost somewhere out on the prairie and no one would ever find them.

  There were so many reasons why he wasn’t a cowboy.

  ***

  “So, what do you think you’ll do?” Giselle asked, her hands having grown still over the washtub.

  Ruth had decided to tell the other girls about her dilemma. She always thought best when she spoke her feelings aloud, and she knew they’d help her see all the different angles of the situation. Besides, it was lonely, keeping this to herself.

  “I think I’m going to take the job,” Ruth said, feeling relieved as the decision was made and the knot of uncertainty in her stomach loosened. They’d talked about the advantages and the disadvantages, and it seemed the right choice for a great many reasons. Plus, Kansas City wasn’t that far away from Topeka by train, and she could come back for a holiday once in a while, she was sure.

  “I’m happy for you, but very sad for myself,” Carrie said, wrapping her arm around Ruth’s shoulders. “It’s like the heart of the Brody is leaving.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ruth said, her cheeks feeling a little warm.

  “I do. It’s going to be so strange without you here, but we want you to be happy,” Giselle added.

  Ruth carried the wet napkins over to the clothesline and began to hang them up, feeling as though she’d just closed a door and was standing on the other side, wondering if she should walk down the hallway or go back into the room she’d just left. This decision wasn’t final by any means—she hadn’t spoken to Mr. Brody yet, she hadn’t accepted Mrs. Norton’s offer yet, and it would be simple to take it all back. But should she?

  She wished she wasn’t so indecisive, but she was being faced with two very good prospects, and she didn’t think she’d be unhappy with either choice. It was a matter of figuring out which she wanted more—a new adventure with risks and rewards, or the comforts and security of home, which were also infinitely attractive.

  She still had until the next morning to make up her mind—she’d put it to the side for now and let her brain work on it quietly while she finished her part of the laundry. Maybe things would be clearer to her then.

  As she began to prepare the chicken for the next meal, she paused, then rummaged through her herbs and spices. She wasn’t in the mood for her regular mixture—she wanted to do something a little bit different. She blended rosemary, thyme, and oregano in with the salt and pepper, and then she added just a bit of rosemary to the bread. When the bread came out of the oven, she oiled the top to give it a shiny appearance. She doubted anyone would notice but her, but making just that small change satisfied something in her creative spirit. She’d almost forgotten she’d done it until she started getting feedback from the dining room.

  “Everyone loves the new chicken and bread,” Josie reported as she dropped off her dirty dishes. “They’re asking if it’s going to be on the menu from now on.”

  “I think it should be,” Emma added. “I could eat a whole loaf of that bread myself.”

  “Oh, so that’s where my missing bread went,” Ruth teased.

  “I didn’t say I did eat it. I said I could eat it.” Emma grabbed two plates of pie and slipped back out to the dining room.

  Ruth smiled as she sliced the next pie. This was validation that she’d be well received no matter which choice she made—that had been a concern. Now she could focus on the benefits, and in that regard, Kansas City was her clear choice. Here in Topeka, she could tinker with recipes and add spices in unusual places, but she was a hotel kitchen cook, and that’s likely all she would ever be. Kansas City would give her the opportunity to meet new people and create new experiences. Her decision was made. She’d speak with Mrs. Norton the next morning after breakfast.

  With the kitchen cleaned up, her shift was over, and she crossed the dining room floor toward the lobby with gratitude. She was going to head upstairs, change into a cooler dress, and go for a walk. The heat of the day had passed, and she was eager to get a breath of fresh air. Sometimes it was so hot in the kitchen, she felt as though she’d fall right over.

  “Excuse me. Miss?”

  She glanced up, her foot on the bottom step of the staircase, and saw the young man from earlier—the one from the dining room who’d made the joke about not knowing her destination. She stepped back onto the main floor and smiled. “Yes? How can I help you?”

  He grinned, seeming a little embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize again for before. I enjoy making friends and having light conversation, and I sometimes interrupt where I’m not even involved. I hope you know I didn’t mean to be rude, and that you don’t think poorly of me because of it.”

  Ruth didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying that she actually hadn’t thought about him at all, so she smiled and said, “Of course I understand, and you’re not to worry about it.”

  “Thank you. You’re very kind.” He glanced at the clock that hung on the wall over the check-in counter. “Are you finished for the night? I wondered if I might escort you on a walk. It’s a very pleasant evening.”

  Ruth hesitated. He was offering the very thing she wanted, except she’d planned to go alone. She needed solitude quite badly after all the chaos of the last few days.

  “I’m so sorry,” he rushed on. “Of course you’re apprehensive about walking out with me. I haven’t even introduced myself yet.” He gave a little bow. “Laird Runyon, miss. I’m staying at the hotel for a few days while I transact some business with the bank.”

  “Ruth Barnes,” she replied. She took a good look at him for the first time and noticed that he seemed like a nice-enough young man—perhaps a bit too eager, but she could forgive him that. “I was just about to go for a walk myself, but with my friends. Perhaps we could all go together.”

  “Perfect. Shall I meet you here in a few minutes?”

  She nodded, then turned and headed up the stairs. Now she just needed to find a couple of friends who would go with her, and hope they’d forgive her for that small lie.

  “I’ll go,” Emma said, setting her book aside.

  “I would, but I’ve already gotten ready for bed,” Carrie replied. “It was such a long day.”

  Josie, Kate, and Call
ie were down in the kitchen starting bread for the next morning, and Giselle had gone home for the night. Ruth turned to Margaret. “What about you? Or is Emma my only victim?”

  Margaret laughed. “Yes, I’ll go. Once again making myself useful while I’m here.” She reached down and picked up her shoes. “I do resent putting these back on, though. I thought I was in for the night.”

  “Sorry about that. No word from Wade?”

  “Not a peep.” Margaret finished with her shoes and stood up. “Let’s go see this strange young man of yours.”

  “I didn’t say he was strange. Just that he was unusual,” Ruth hedged.

  “They’re close enough to the same thing.”

  When they reached the parlor, Mr. Runyon was waiting for them, and his face broke into a wide smile when he saw them. “My goodness. I didn’t expect to be escorting three lovely young ladies.”

  “It’s your lucky day,” Emma informed him. “Margaret doesn’t really count, though, because she’s married.”

  “Of course she counts,” he replied. “A woman doesn’t stop being lovely just because she’s married.”

  “Thank you,” Margaret told him. “That’s always nice to hear.”

  They headed outside, and Ruth almost shivered at the difference in the temperature inside and outside the hotel. “We need more windows in the kitchen,” she said. “I wonder how Mr. Brody would feel if we just removed one of the walls.”

  “He’d probably want to make sure the whole building wouldn’t collapse first,” Emma said, and the girls laughed.

  “I can imagine it gets quite stifling, with the oven and whatnot,” Mr. Runyon said. “Is it one stove or two?”

  “It’s a fairly large stove with an oven,” Ruth replied. “We also have a fireplace with bread ovens on either side, and those are kept going nearly round the clock.”

  “It must be cozy in the winter and uncomfortable during the summer. I wonder if there’s a way to remedy that.” Mr. Runyon looked thoughtful, and Ruth wondered what interest he had in kitchens and their temperatures. He was likely just trying to be friendly, but he seemed to be putting more thought into this casual conversation than was necessary.

  She looked up as she heard the galloping of hooves, and a moment later, a young man on horseback came nearly skidding around the corner and pulled to a stop in front of them. “Dr. Wayment?” he gasped.

  “I haven’t seen him,” Ruth replied. “Isn’t he at home?”

  “No, ma’am, and his housekeeper doesn’t know where he is.”

  “Try the Lucky Clover saloon,” Emma said. “I think I heard something about a brawl over there and a split lip.”

  The rider gave her a quick nod, wheeled his horse, and galloped that direction.

  “The doctor’s at the saloon, is he?” Mr. Runyon chuckled. “I hope he’s not the sort to indulge while he’s there.”

  “Not at all,” Ruth told him. “Dr. Wayment’s always sober. It’s one of the reasons why we trust him so much.” She looked down the street after the rider, wondering why he was in such a hurry and where he’d come from. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him at all. She supposed that if it was important, they’d hear about it soon enough. Gossip did have a way of flying around town much more easily than she’d like.

  Chapter Seven

  “Alex, wake up. We have to keep movin’.”

  Alex lifted his chin from his chest and looked around. At some point, Jack had lashed him onto his saddle with a rope—that was probably wise, given how many times he’d nearly fallen off his horse while they were in motion. He was struggling to stay conscious, and he knew that meant he’d lost far too much blood.

  “Alex, listen to me. Do you remember the rider who was here a little while ago? The one Colonel Gordon sent to see if we needed reinforcements? I sent him back and told him to bring a doctor here. A good one—not one of those quacks we have runnin’ around town. All we have to do is keep movin’ and he’ll meet us between here and there, all right? But you can’t keep fallin’ asleep like this.”

  “Sorry,” Alex mumbled.

  Jack looked him over and shook his head. “We’ve already lost some precious time. All right, listen up. There’s a new plan.”

  He slid off his horse, tied it to the back of Alex’s horse, then climbed up behind Alex. “I’m goin’ to keep you from hittin’ the dirt, and you’re goin’ to trust me, all right?”

  All Alex could do was nod.

  Jack gathered up the reins and gave them a flick. Alex felt himself bouncing from side to side, but Jack’s strong arms kept him from becoming unseated. Alex tried to hold himself upright so his weight wouldn’t be too much of a burden for Jack, but try as he might, he just couldn’t stay awake, and he drifted off after hearing Jack say, “Hang in there. It can’t be far now—hang in there, Alex.”

  ***

  Mr. Runyon kept the other girls laughing, but Ruth could only smile. Even though the man searching for Dr. Wayment had given them no information, she couldn’t help but feel this was connected to them in some way, and she badly wanted to know what was going on. They walked about half a mile before deciding to turn back, and when they reached the hotel, Ruth was more than ready to say goodnight.

  The other waitresses slipped upstairs without saying much, and Ruth smiled at their lack of subtlety.

  “Would you care to sit in the parlor with me for a moment, Miss Barnes?” Mr. Runyon said, motioning toward the sofa. “Your friends are lovely ladies, but I’m afraid you and I didn’t have much chance to speak.”

  She’d been about to excuse herself, but she didn’t want to be rude—he’d done nothing to deserve it. “Of course,” she replied, sitting down and smoothing her skirts over her lap. “I must warn you, though, that I can’t stay long—morning comes early at the Brody.”

  “I imagine it does.” He took a seat across from her. “So tell me, Miss Barnes, a little bit about yourself. You already know that I take very few things seriously, although in banking, I should take everything seriously. I should also confess to having a great fondness for oranges. What about you, Miss Barnes? How do you feel about oranges?”

  She smiled. That wasn’t the sort of question she’d expected, and that made it more welcome. “I love oranges, although we don’t see many of them here in Topeka.”

  “Hmm. Yes, I can see that would be a problem—transporting them before they spoiled and that sort of thing. And they wouldn’t grow here, would they?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

  “Well, I intend to find out. There are some pieces of information that should not go unexplored.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You seem distracted by something, Miss Barnes. Is anything the matter?”

  “Nothing. I’m just tired after a long week. I don’t mean to be dull company.”

  “You could never be dull. So, tell me about this week. I already caught snippets about the cattle rustling this afternoon in the dining room. What else has you troubled?”

  “We held a large wedding here the other day, I was made a job offer I’ll likely accept, and Margaret’s husband is off chasing the missing cattle.” Alex Barker flitted through her mind, but she ignored him. She didn’t even know why he was there. “All in all, there’s been a lot of excitement.”

  “I should say.” Mr. Runyon sat upright and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. “Tell me about this job offer. It sounds fascinating.”

  The longer Ruth talked with Mr. Runyon, the more at ease she felt, and before she realized it, an hour had gone by. That was certainly something—chatting for an hour when she hadn’t even wanted to chat for a few minutes. She mentally scolded herself for being so withdrawn—she might have enjoyed the whole evening more if she’d let herself. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Runyon, but it’s late, and I do need to be up early.”

  “Of course. You told me that at the start, and then I completely lost track of time.” He came to his
feet and held out his hand. “Thank you for sitting and visiting with me. It was very pleasant.”

  “And thank you for the company. You’re right—I’ve been distracted, and I needed some time thinking about other things.”

  She exited the parlor and noticed Mr. Brody sitting in the chair behind the check-in desk, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Goodnight, sir,” she said, intending to go on her way, but he waved her over.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation,” he said. “Are you planning to leave us, Ruth?”

  She exhaled, looking for the right words. “I’d meant to speak to you about it in the morning, but yes. Mrs. Norton invited me to move to Kansas City and be her personal cook, and while I’ve loved my time here, I feel it’s the right choice. I’ve felt confined in Topeka these last several months, seeing my friends come and go while I stayed in one spot, and I’d like the chance to spread my wings a bit.”

  He nodded. “I’ve noticed that you’ve seemed a little wistful lately.”

  “Wistful?” She chuckled. “Gracious, have I been that obvious? I’m sorry, Mr. Brody. I didn’t mean to mope.”

  “Not at all. I think I just noticed it because we’ve known you so long. Elizabeth commented on it too.”

  “I shouldn’t let my life’s little dilemmas trickle out to where they can affect everyone. I’ll try to be better about it.” She paused. “I suppose this is it, then.”

  “I’ll accept it as your official resignation, but if you ever want to come back, you have a job here, no questions asked. By the way, the chicken you made tonight was exceptional, and the herbs in the bread were delicious.”

  “Thank you. I wanted to try something a little different.”

  “Very successfully.” He came to his feet and held out his hand. “I mean it, Ruth. You’ll always be welcome here.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She accepted his hand, then turned and went upstairs before she’d do something silly like burst into tears right there in the lobby. She had to let go of what she had in order to reach for something better—she knew that. But letting go was certainly painful.