guests to pay the bills and then some. And that all of us now have beds to sleep in, no more pallets on the floor.’’ The last made her smile. Who’d have thought that a wooden bed frame strung with ropes in a woven pattern, then padded with pallets, made a comfortable bed? Thanks to Charlie’s and Cimarron’s good hunting of duck and geese, she and Opal now had a feather bed on top of the pallet. What luxury. Having removed the rolls to cool on the table, she now spread a thin frosting on top.
Tomorrow was Easter, and it would bring the first worship service to be held in Little Missouri. Held in a former saloon, with music sung by women who’d turned from their former ways and now believed the message they sang.
Now if only a congregation will come .
Morning dawned between capricious snowflakes, adding to the two-inch new blanket of white. A chinook wind the last few days had melted all but the drifts and banks around the buildings. The drip off icicles had sung a merry tune, but were now shut off again by the hand of winter.
Ruby entered the kitchen, tying her apron as she came. The smell of coffee had floated up the stairs and hastened her ablutions. ‘‘Christ is risen, Charlie.’’
‘‘He is risen, indeed.’’ His mustache twitched at the look on her face. ‘‘I was raised proper, Miss Ruby, even if I don’t always show it.’’
‘‘Would that all of us showed our caring as often as you. I thought I told you to take it easy this morning, that I’d start the coffee.’’
‘‘Ah, couldn’t sleep any longer. Those sweet rolls were calling my name.’’
Ruby rubbed her hands in the heat of the stove. ‘‘I thought spring had come.’’
‘‘It did, but winter had to bluster one more time. It’s about blowed out. You watch, the sun will send it packing.’’
‘‘I hope so. None of the ranchers will come in if a blizzard is blowing.’’ She popped a plate with two rolls on it into the oven, then brought a pan of cornmeal mush in from the storage room to slice for frying.
‘‘Charlie, you have a new shirt.’’
‘‘Thanks to Cimarron. That woman is a whiz with a needle.’’
‘‘Most assuredly. Would you please slice the ham?’’
‘‘Already finished. I’ll get it for you.’’ He returned from the pantry with a pan of sliced ham.
Ruby folded a dish towel and opened the oven door to take out the rolls. ‘‘Sit, and we’ll have our coffee.’’
By the time they’d cooked breakfast, served the hotel guests, moved the table into the cardroom, and lined up the chairs, time caught up with them.
They all fled to their rooms to change. Ruby snagged Opal before she escaped.
‘‘You have to rebraid your hair.’’
‘‘Ah, Ruby . . .’’
‘‘Get the brush.’’ Ruby fixed her cameo pin to the high neck of her lace-trimmed waist. She’d thought of wearing her deep red traveling outfit with the lace inset in the upper bodice. She kept it carefully brushed and covered by a sheet, the matching hat stored in her trunk. Charlie had warned her early on that it was too fancy for the likes of Little Missouri, that folks might take her for one of the fancy women instead of the naive girl she used to be. Of course, according to Charlie, she still had a lot to learn of life on the frontier, but now she knew much of a life she’d never even dreamed.
With her lower lip protruding, Opal handed her the brush, at the same time finger combing out her hair. ‘‘But we gotta hurry, Ruby. You said so.’’
‘‘I know.’’ Ruby quickly brushed and braided Opal’s waist-length strawberry hair, looped the two braids together, and tied them with a plaid bow.
‘‘There, you look lovely.’’
‘‘Not like the others.’’ Opal dodged away and out the door.
‘‘Now what does that mean?’’ Ruby checked her reflection in the mirror, tucked another strand of fine hair back in her chignon, and followed Opal down the stairs. She could hear the others still
Tomorrow was Easter, and it would bring the first worship service to be held in Little Missouri. Held in a former saloon, with music sung by women who’d turned from their former ways and now believed the message they sang.
Now if only a congregation will come .
Morning dawned between capricious snowflakes, adding to the two-inch new blanket of white. A chinook wind the last few days had melted all but the drifts and banks around the buildings. The drip off icicles had sung a merry tune, but were now shut off again by the hand of winter.
Ruby entered the kitchen, tying her apron as she came. The smell of coffee had floated up the stairs and hastened her ablutions. ‘‘Christ is risen, Charlie.’’
‘‘He is risen, indeed.’’ His mustache twitched at the look on her face. ‘‘I was raised proper, Miss Ruby, even if I don’t always show it.’’
‘‘Would that all of us showed our caring as often as you. I thought I told you to take it easy this morning, that I’d start the coffee.’’
‘‘Ah, couldn’t sleep any longer. Those sweet rolls were calling my name.’’
Ruby rubbed her hands in the heat of the stove. ‘‘I thought spring had come.’’
‘‘It did, but winter had to bluster one more time. It’s about blowed out. You watch, the sun will send it packing.’’
‘‘I hope so. None of the ranchers will come in if a blizzard is blowing.’’ She popped a plate with two rolls on it into the oven, then brought a pan of cornmeal mush in from the storage room to slice for frying.
‘‘Charlie, you have a new shirt.’’
‘‘Thanks to Cimarron. That woman is a whiz with a needle.’’
‘‘Most assuredly. Would you please slice the ham?’’
‘‘Already finished. I’ll get it for you.’’ He returned from the pantry with a pan of sliced ham.
Ruby folded a dish towel and opened the oven door to take out the rolls. ‘‘Sit, and we’ll have our coffee.’’
By the time they’d cooked breakfast, served the hotel guests, moved the table into the cardroom, and lined up the chairs, time caught up with them.
They all fled to their rooms to change. Ruby snagged Opal before she escaped.
‘‘You have to rebraid your hair.’’
‘‘Ah, Ruby . . .’’
‘‘Get the brush.’’ Ruby fixed her cameo pin to the high neck of her lace-trimmed waist. She’d thought of wearing her deep red traveling outfit with the lace inset in the upper bodice. She kept it carefully brushed and covered by a sheet, the matching hat stored in her trunk. Charlie had warned her early on that it was too fancy for the likes of Little Missouri, that folks might take her for one of the fancy women instead of the naive girl she used to be. Of course, according to Charlie, she still had a lot to learn of life on the frontier, but now she knew much of a life she’d never even dreamed.
With her lower lip protruding, Opal handed her the brush, at the same time finger combing out her hair. ‘‘But we gotta hurry, Ruby. You said so.’’
‘‘I know.’’ Ruby quickly brushed and braided Opal’s waist-length strawberry hair, looped the two braids together, and tied them with a plaid bow.
‘‘There, you look lovely.’’
‘‘Not like the others.’’ Opal dodged away and out the door.
‘‘Now what does that mean?’’ Ruby checked her reflection in the mirror, tucked another strand of fine hair back in her chignon, and followed Opal down the stairs. She could hear the others still
Similar Books
