Chapter 14

R obert felt Ruby twitch when he suggested growing flowers around her own home. Would she give the idea some thought? He would dig gardens around the house for her. He'd dig them on each side of the vegetable patch. He'd build window boxes. He'd even bring in plants for the winter so she could enjoy growing things year-round. And maybe a room with all windows that she could fill with flowers and plants to her heart's content throughout each season.

But he had a task to take care of.

"I need to go back to the homesite and see if anything suggests who the people were. I expect the deaths have been reported, but nevertheless, as a Mountie?—"

"I could go with you."

"While I'd enjoy that, it will be much faster on horseback. I'd be back sooner." Did she hear his promise? Not only to return quickly, but to continue to enjoy her presence. His shoulders twitched as he saw the end of that enjoyment when they parted ways far too soon.

He swung into his saddle, smiled goodbye to Ruby, paused to tell Walt his plans, then rode across the dusty ground, breathing in the scent of old grass. The place wasn't hard to find, tucked into a little hollow, protected by trees. A well in the middle of the yard indicated where they'd gotten water. The graves were past the garden site, and he dismounted to approach them. Covered in yellow, just as Ruby said. The flowers were already wilting.

Removing his hat, he stood reverently and then jotted the names in his notebook. He circled the area, searching for anything to help identify this family. Avoided stepping on the wood as he went to the remains of the house. He toed aside a pile of dirt but found nothing but more dirt. He lifted the corner of the fallen wall. A bit of fabric lay beneath it, and he pulled it out. Only a fragment. It could have been part of a man's shirt or a woman's dress.

A careful examination of the entire area provided no further information.

He rode to the top of the rise and studied his surroundings. Heat waves made the horizon uncertain. Other than that, he saw nothing of interest and galloped back to the wagon train. He paused at Walt's side.

"I can take them." He reached for the rope.

Walt shook his head. "My sister-in-law is waiting for you." He grinned. "Wouldn't want her angry with me."

Robert hesitated… out of duty not reluctance.

"Go on. The horses are no problem."

It was all the urging Robert needed, and he swung to the side, dismounted, and smiled at Ruby.

"Did you find anything interesting?"

"Only you." He shouldn't have said that. It made him sound like the sort of man who trifled with every woman he met, and he hurried on before she could respond. "Oh, you mean back there. Nothing more than what you told me, I'm afraid."

"I expect the flowers are wilted or blown away."

"Still there but wilting." He didn't want to talk about the graves or the pain they signified. "It was nice you helped put them there."

They passed several mounds of dirt the size of a Dutch oven. He pointed. "Gophers." None of the animals stood by the holes. "They'll hide until we pass."

She caught his elbow. "Let's stop."

"Sure." They waited until the last of the horses passed and the dust settled. He signaled they should sit. A puff of grass pollen rose at their disturbance. She eased her sketchbook from her pocket, opened it to a blank page, and held her pencil.

He nudged her.

She nodded to signal she'd seen the head of one animal poke out. It ducked back down, but curiosity had it again peeking out. It eased out all the way, sniffed, studied them, and then stood upright. Soon three more popped out. While the first remained watchful, the others scurried away from their holes.

Ruby drew a line. The lead scratched the page. The gopher whistled, and the animals dove for their holes.

She grinned at Robert. When she turned back to watching the mounds, he relaxed. Seems they were going to wait until she could draw the little animals. As they sat motionless, two gophers and then a third poked their heads out and then moved out of their dens. She bent over the paper and began to draw.

His legs cramped at being so motionless before she closed the pages, sending the animals into escape.

"I got it."

"You did good." He'd watched her draw, saw how she touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip in concentration and how steady her hand was, each line so clearly creating the gopher's likeness. "Time to catch up."

The wagons were a mile ahead. He held her hand as they hurried onward.

"You should show them the picture you drew."

Her steps faltered, and she tugged his hand. "No. I prefer to let them think I'm writing about the trip. And I do. So, I'm not deceiving them. But my drawing is private."

"I truly don't understand. You're good. Good enough to be invited to Banff. No one is going to say they're crude." For some reason, it felt underhanded for her not to tell them the truth.

"I can't explain. Except I've always kept it to myself."

"But won't you have to tell them sooner or later if you mean to go to Banff?"

"I will." She gave him a hard look. "Remember, you promised not to tell."

"I haven't forgotten. It's your secret to reveal when you choose. I think you'll be surprised they will be proud of what you're doing."

"I would like to think so."

Uncertainty quavered in her tone, but he didn't pursue it as they caught up to the wagons. She chewed on her bottom lip as if worried about something.

"Ruby, I won't tell. I promise."

"I believe you. It's just…" She shook her head and didn't finish.

"What?" He squeezed her hand to encourage her to share what bothered her.

"I don't know if I can explain it. Maybe they'll be cross because I didn't say anything sooner. Maybe they'll tell me I'm too young to go to Banff on my own. Or they might think I've been dishonest by hiding what I've been doing. I don't know." She ended on a wail.

"Or maybe they'll believe you're a good artist and deserve to be involved in this project."

"Maybe." But no assurance steadied the word.

"You'll see." He packed enough confidence for both of them in his words.

They reached the horses and slowed their pace. Their conversation centered on the fun of watching the gophers and the abundance of flowers.

Joe rode back. "We'll stop for the day up ahead. Good water and grass."

Ruby studied the sky. The sun dipped to the west, creating long shadows. "I didn't realize it was getting so late."

"Nor did I. I have to help with the horses." Robert paused. "We'll talk again?"

"I hope so."

He swung into the saddle and headed for the horses. As he watered them, making sure they had plenty of grazing and were secure for the night, his thoughts wandered down pleasant paths. Recalling the mat of yellow flowers and the quick drawing of the gopher. From there, they returned to the days he'd spent with Ruby in the Cypress Hills.

How he wished he could bottle those days and make them permanent.

He wandered through the animals, checking each for any sign of injury. Saw nothing. These were good solid stock despite their miles of travel and the stampede rustlers caused.

The aroma of supper drew him to the fire. Only it wasn't the sole thing pulling him in. He couldn't wait to see Ruby again even though it had only been a short while.

She must have been watching for him because she greeted him with a steaming cup of coffee.

"Thanks." His gaze lingered on hers. Perhaps too intensely for she ducked her head and mumbled something about the horses. He didn't catch what she said and was about to ask when her ma called them to supper.

The travelers gathered in from their various activities.

Gabe surveyed the circle. "Where's?—"

"Dobie," Louise called.

They waited for the boy to join them.

Cecil bellowed, "Dobie, supper!"

Nothing. Except a shallow whine from Bertie.

Louise caught Cecil's arm. "Did you see him?"

"I haven't seen him since—" He shook his head. "Well, for some time. I thought he was with you."

"I thought he was with you."

"Dobie!" they called in unison.

"Perhaps he fell asleep." Irene rushed to the wagons.

"Did he go to watch the animals? I'll look." Walt trotted in that direction.

The rest of them looked at each other, and when Irene and Walt returned, shaking their heads, they scattered to search for the boy.

"He couldn't have gone far," Robert assured Ruby.

"I can't think he'd wander off. The boy isn't like that." Ruby again searched the wagons. Lifted the blankets that normally covered the cats.

Robert studied the nearby trees, expecting Dobie to step from them.

Bertie shifted from one foot to the other, holding his cats tight. Limpy whined at his side. Alice was strangely quiet. "He said they cold."

Robert turned his attention to Bertie. "What do you mean?"

"I tell him not go."

"You…he…? Ruby, I might know where he is."

She emerged from a wagon. "You do?"

"I think he's gone back to the graves." He repeated what Bertie said.

"But it's hours since we passed that spot."

"I'll check it out." He trotted over to get his horse but didn't bother saddling it. "Tell the others where I've gone." He leaned low and galloped back to the homesite, slowing as he approached the hollow. In case there was more to the situation than he knew.

Dismounting, he made his way past the garden spot.

Dobie huddled on the ground, glancing up as Robert drew near. Tears streaked his face, and he burst out crying when he recognized Robert.

"I thought you might be here." Robert crouched beside Dobie. "You brought a blanket." Army-gray wool covered the two smaller graves.

"I didn't want them to be cold." His sobs ended, and he swiped away the tears.

Robert pressed his hand to the child's back. "That's very kind of you."

Silence greeted his remark.

Dobie sucked in a shuddering breath. "And then I couldn't remember how to get back, and I didn't want to be here in the dark."

"You know someone would have come looking for you."

"I guess." He glanced nervously over his shoulder. "But what if it was bad men?"

Every muscle in Robert tensed. Did Dobie think someone watched him? Had he seen something suspicious?

Without being obvious, Robert checked his surroundings. He didn't see a person, but there were far more hoofprints than he'd left. The skin on the back of his neck prickled.

Someone had been here. Someone who might even now be watching his back.

"He's on his way," Joe called.

A collective sigh filled the air. They'd gotten enough information from Bertie to understand Dobie had taken a blanket back to the graves so they wouldn't be cold.

Louise and Cecil rushed to take their son from Robert. Cecil shook Robert's hand and thanked him. Louise rocked the boy and hugged him tight.

With a tip of his head to Joe, Robert signaled him to join him.

Ruby waited until their backs were to her. Then she followed, moving quietly and trying to remain out of sight.

"There's evidence of other riders," Robert explained what he'd seen as he saddled his horse and gathered supplies. "I'm going to find them. If they aren't the rustlers, then I need to know why they are so secretive."

"Be careful."

"I always am." He swung into his saddle and reined around. That's when he saw Ruby lurking in the shadows, and he rode closer. "I'll be back."

"Must you go out this close to dark? Wouldn't it be safer to wait for daylight?"

"Darkness hides me. I won't come back until my job is done."

A hundred fears, a thousand protests flooded her thoughts, but she nodded. "You're a Mountie."

He touched her cheek, then moved away.

She watched until he was out of sight, found a touch of comfort in the way he clung to the shadows. "Go with God," she murmured.

Her stomach growled. Wait. He hadn't eaten. But he was gone. No packhorse. Only what he carried on his saddle. She whispered another prayer for his safety, then joined the others for the delayed meal. She let Joe explain where he'd gone and ignored Angela's sympathetic words.

She ate her food, helped clean the dishes, pretended to sing when Gabe played his guitar, and then lingered around the campfire long after the coals turned black.

Angela climbed from their wagon. "He's not likely to come back tonight. You might as well go to bed."

"Oh, I was lost in thought and didn't realize how late it was." Ruby hurriedly placed her bedding under the wagon and prepared for the night. Not that she expected to sleep a wink.