Ruby by Lauraine Snelling, Alexandra O'Karm Page B

Opal peeked around the corner wall, Ruby beckoned her over and curved an arm around her.
    “Far, this is Opal.”
    His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at them both, his gaze more clear than it had been up to that moment. “Pictures . . . of . . . your . . . mother.” His hand gripped Ruby’s with more force than she thought he had in him. “Come . . . closer.”
    Ruby motioned for Opal to sit on the edge of the bed and laid her hand in her father’s. “You can talk with him,” she whispered in Opal’s ear.
    “Papá?”
    A smile twitched the fine skin around his mouth. “Far.”
    “Yes, Far.” Ruby nodded for Opal to use the Norwegian word rather than the French.
    “Far.”
    “Tell him something you like.” Another whisper.
    “I liked the train ride. Thank you.”
    “You . . . came . . . a . . . long way.”
    “Yes, from New York City.” Opal studied the face so dimly lit but stark in its whiteness. She cleared her throat, cast an imploring glance at her sister, and asked, “Are you really my father? Did I ever see you?”
    Ruby inhaled a gulp and coughed accordingly. “Opal.” Her hiss was meant for little ears alone, but Far smiled—if the grimace that stretched his mouth to the sides could really be called a smile.
    His gaze drilled into Opal’s. “Yes, I am your far.” He spoke with more strength than at any moment since they’d entered the room.
    Opal nodded. The silence stretched, broken only when Far coughed, a dry hacking sound that grated on Ruby’s ears.
    “Then why did you never come for us?”
    Opal’s question made Ruby stifle a gasp. Her hand tightened on Opal’s shoulder. Leave it to her to cut right to the bone.
    Far stared into his younger daughter’s eyes, and she returned the favor.
    “I . . . wish . . . I had. But the frontier was no place . . .” He paused and coughed again. His voice when it came was weaker. “For my treasures.”
    But you brought us here now. Why? What kind of inheritance did we come all this way for? Why didn’t you just send it in the mail?
    But Ruby knew they would have come anyway, even had there been no promise of an inheritance, even if she had to buy their tickets. Yes, she would have come anyway. Just to see her father one last time. Although the man in the bed bore little resemblance to the man she remembered, the man she had adored and all her life wished Opal had known like she did.
    “Turn up the lights.” His whisper made Ruby draw closer to the bed.
    “The lights?”
    He nodded.
    She went to turn up the wick on the lamp and saw a packet of spills on the dresser by the base. Taking one, she stuck the dry slender stick down the lamp chimney and, once it was lit, crossed back to lift the chimney and light another lamp on the small chest nearer to the bed.
    “That better?”
    “Yes.” He patted the bed beside him, and Opal sat, her stockinged legs hanging over the edge. “Your trip, tell me.”
    While Opal recited their adventures, Ruby glanced around the now more visible room. Women’s dresses hung in the chiffo-robe, unmentionables draped over the doors, the exotic three-paneled screen across the corner, and puddled on the floor. His wife certainly was not a good housekeeper. So where was his wife? Was he married to Belle? The thought sent a shiver through her. How could he marry someone like her after having loved Mor? The two were as different as the moon and the sea. Her mother had been a lady in the gentlest and finest of terms, and Belle? Ruby refused to allow that thought to continue and went back to studying the room. Two tall windows would let in air if they weren’t so heavily shrouded by floor-length red velvet drapes. Gold tasseled cords hung ready to pull them back. She tuned back to what Opal was saying.
    “I can read and write. Ruby is a very good teacher. She could make even Jason want to do his lessons.”
    “Jason?”
    “He is the oldest Brandon son. Bernie is the baby.”
    “When. . . ?” Per shifted his