Chapter 6

" Q uestions?"

Laughter rippled from her. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?" Of course, he knew. Echoing her words as if he didn't have a thought of his own. Which, when she smiled at him like that, was true.

"I understand that being raised by a man like your father often turns the children into reflections of him. But that's not true in your case. Why?"

The answer formed slowly in his thoughts. "I suppose because Ma was a believer. She taught us that no matter what happened, God would take care of us. I remember questioning her about it one night as we fled a town. Moved to new opportunities, Pa said. But we all knew he'd done it again. Hadn't paid his bills. Had cheated someone. Or promised work he got paid for but didn't do. Maybe he even helped himself to things that weren't his.

"I will never forget her answer. She said we can let things make us bitter or better. We can't control how others act, but we can choose how we'll react. She caught my chin and said, ‘Son, if you follow in your pa's footsteps, he has made you into his image. If you choose, instead, to follow God's ways, you will become a man in God's image.'" His voice cracked at the power of that memory.

Ruby squeezed his hands, offering comfort and encouragement. Or so he chose to believe.

He filled his lungs with her scent—and it wasn't green. If it had a name, he'd say it was pink.

She shook his arm, reminding him to continue.

"I decided then and there I wouldn't be like my father. I haven't always been successful at following God's ways, but even when I falter, I know I can turn back to Him, and He freely forgives." The words rang with the conviction flowing through his insides like life-giving water.

"Robert, your life has been so different from mine." Her lips drew back…in sadness? For him or her? Certainly not for her. Being raised in a loving family was, he was certain, both a privilege and a pleasure.

Nevertheless, he must acknowledge the difficulty of the things she'd dealt with. The death of her father. No doubt, there was more. "I'm sure you've had your challenges too."

"Pa's dying was difficult. So slow and painful."

Did he detect a twitch of her lips? What did it mean?

She continued. "Of course, other things have taught me to trust God more."

The way her amused words bubbled had him raising his eyebrows in silent question.

Her smile crinkled her cheeks. "I guess I learned to trust God through circumstances vastly different from yours, like when Bertie fell into the river when I was maybe eight. He would have been sixteen. Big but helpless and scared. No one else was around. I couldn't swim well enough to pull him out. He flailed around trying to find the bottom." She withdrew her hands to wrap her arms around herself. "I was terrified but knew I had to rescue him."

Rather than try to retrieve her hands, he pressed his palms to her shoulders, offering comfort for a frightening experience she'd faced alone—apart from Bertie. "What did you do?"

Her gaze went past him as if recalling that day. "I remember crying and asking God to help me. I calmed down. Thought about what I could do. I found a thick branch and waded in until I was close enough for him to reach it. Then I backed up. He found the bottom. I kept talking to him until we were out of the water. We were both crying as we reached the solid bank." Her attention returned to him. Blue eyes sparkled. "Our crying soon gave way to laughter, and we lay in the sunshine until we were almost dry."

"Funny how our paths were so different but basically led to the same thing. Trusting God. I would have chosen an easier way to learn, but I'm forever grateful God has been with me every step of the way."

"Robert—"

My, how he liked hearing his name on her lips.

"It's made you a strong, caring person." She paused and searched his gaze. "I think your mother would be very proud of you."

At those words, his throat clogged. She couldn't have said anything more encouraging. He lowered his hands on her arms and thought of hugging her again, barely managing to restrain himself. Instead, he caught her hand and drew her onward to the valley floor until they approached the remnants of the first NWMP fort.

They poked through the logs that had once been walls and walked around the outline of various buildings.

"The first members had it hard," he told her. "They didn't have adequate supplies. But they persevered. They stood up for what was right and good."

"Carson says the motto of the force is Maintiens le Droit . Uphold the right."

"That's correct and a standard we all proudly adhere to."

She picked up a bit of polished wood and examined it. "Is life easier now?"

"It is." He braced one foot on a thick log. "We've learned to pick better spots for our forts. We can now get supplies on the train. Ranchers are raising cows to feed us, and the Natives are on reservations, though perhaps they aren't so happy about that. I hope we've all grown, learned, and adapted."

"You're very proud of the Force." She studied his face. What was she looking for? Would she discover it? "Won't you find it hard to leave?"

His thoughts jerked back to the here and now. He adjusted his hat so it sat perfectly on his head. "In some ways, I'll miss it. Like you said, I'm proud of being a member. I think I'm good at it."

She moved away to kick at a pile of debris. "Thanks in part to the experience of living with a man like your father. But also—" She faced him. "I just realized something. Your father taught you patience and how to deal with unsavory men, but your mother taught you how to be kind and fair. Seems to me it's a pretty good set of skills."

"They taught me something else. The importance and value of roots. Of a home. Of love." He sought her gaze, and at the surprise he saw, he looked away.

"Do you have someone in mind to share your life because a home needs a family?"

"I don't have, but I agree. I want a wife and family." Someone prepared to sink in deep roots with him. Something Ruby didn't have in her plans. "How about you? Surely you have a beau who is going to join you. Maybe coming on the train once you're settled. Or it seems to me Carson was extolling the nobleness of his sisters. Does he have someone picked out for you at the fort?" Hadn't Carson spoken to a few men about marriages to his sisters? He'd even suggested Robert might be interested. The idea had appeal. But Robert had been away, and nothing had come of that.

Her laughs pealed like happy church bells. "Carson thinks I'm still in pigtails."

He had said that. "Is he ever in for a surprise." Still, how was it possible she didn't have a beau pining after her? "What about back home? Isn't there a young man missing you?"

The way she snorted suggested she hadn't enjoyed her association with a man. His fingers curled to think of her having a bad experience.

"There was this young fella in church. Andrew. He's a couple of years older than me. When there were picnics or teas or potlucks, he'd seek me out. Always asked questions about the others. It took me a few times to realize he was only trying to get to my older sisters, so I refused to sit with him again." She pushed her shoulders back. "But I don't need a man. I have other plans."

"I remember." He picked up a brass button that must have fallen from one of the Mounties' uniforms and handed it to her. "Something to remember me by."

Her startled look lingered as she rubbed the button between her thumb and forefinger.

Why was she surprised? Because he wanted her to remember him? Did she hope to forget him as soon as they parted ways? She to her adventure, he to growing his roots.

Her voice disappeared even as her thoughts stalled. She cleared her throat so she could speak. "I doubt I'll forget you even without this."

Their gazes locked. She'd said more than she should have. More than she meant. Except it was true. She'd not forget him. "I've never before met someone who agrees with me about the smell of green."

His smile lingered on his lips but faded from his eyes. Had she disappointed him? But how could that be? They'd met—why only a day ago, though that seemed impossible.

But more than that, they were headed in different directions. He was wanting what she'd had all her life—a stable secure family. And she wanted what she'd never had, though she couldn't say what that was—to be part of something bigger? To have her drawings valued? To experience adventure? To be something besides the youngest sister?

All she knew was it drew her like an invisible rope.

He looked into the sky. Seeking what? He blinked. "We've been gone a long time. They're going to send out a search party if we don't get back soon." He caught her hand to guide her over the scattered wood at their feet but released it as soon as they reached the trail.

She almost ran to keep pace. "Please slow down."

"I'm sorry." He slackened to accommodate her shorter stride. "Your family will be worried."

"Robert, don't fuss. They won't be worried. Partly because I have been known to be late for a meal, but mostly because they know I am with you."

He stopped. "Are they always this willing to trust you to a stranger?"

"Robert!" Protest stuck in her throat. A little cough made her able to speak. "You aren't truly a stranger. You're a friend of Carson's, which means you're a good man. And you're a Mountie."

He nodded. Appeared somewhat mollified. "Still."

She wasn't about to let him wallow in worry. Nor was she ready to end their outing. "Are you going to show me more flowers this afternoon?" Yes, it was bold on her part but—"How many different orchids did you say have been found here?"

"I don't expect we'll be able to locate them all. Not when it's late August and the summer heat has likely dried up many of the plants."

"Only one way to find out. Besides, if I can draw the seed pods of plants, I'd like that."

He searched her eyes and scanned her cheeks and mouth.

She touched the tip of her tongue to her lips at his intensity.

"Very well. If you're sure?"

"Robert Davis, I could not be more sure." Only she wasn't clear what she meant. Seeing flowers? Spending time with him? Enjoying his company? Learning about the Cypress Hills? All of them. All of them, and not one was more important than another. Not one.

"Still, we need to get back and reassure your family all is well."

"And eat. Seems to me that's of equal or more importance. After all—" She jabbed him gently in the side. He flinched. Strange. She'd barely touched him. "Wouldn't want you fading away to a shadow."

He caught her fingers. "Don't be causing trouble."

She blinked rapidly and fluttered her lashes. "How could I do that?" Using her other hand, she again tickled her fingers along his side.

He captured that hand.

She laughed and tried to free herself. "You're ticklish, aren't you?"

"Isn't everyone?" He held her wrists in one palm and waggled the fingers of his other hand as if he meant to test her reaction.

"Not that much." She widened her eyes and grinned. "Now I have a secret of yours."

He leaned in, his eyes narrowed. "I'll tell you what. If you leave off trying to tickle me, I won't let it slip that you have beautiful pictures in that book you hide so carefully."

"You already promised not to tell."

His brows rose. "I'm pretty sure I only promised not to reveal your plans to go to Banff."

Their gazes locked. She made sure hers was as challenging as his. And then laughter bubbled up from the pit of her stomach and rolled out her mouth. She couldn't stop even when he shook her hands and frowned. She tried, but every time she opened her mouth to say something, she laughed instead.

He shook his head. A smile started in his eyes, reached his mouth, and unleashed deep-throated laughter.

Oh my! Her own amusement moderated at the light flashing in his eyes and the way his gaze sought hers offering?—

Offering what? Not that it mattered, and she caught his arm to urge him along the trail, both of them grinning widely.

"What was so funny? I can't remember."

"You. I sense you're a devious man, looking for loopholes in agreements."

He jerked to a halt and stared down at her, pressing his hand to his chest. "I'm hurt that you would judge me so."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm sure it's admirable that you look for every undotted I and uncrossed T . No doubt it's a very useful skill as a Mountie."

"Undotted? Uncrossed," he sputtered.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?" His eyes narrowed as if he was prepared to argue the matter.

"Echoing my words?"

"Echoing—" He broke off, pressed his hand to his forehead, and groaned. "What can I say? You leave me speechless."

She coughed back a laugh, though she couldn't stop amusement from warming her eyes. "I'll take that as a compliment." She fluttered her eyelashes. "You did mean it that way, didn't you?"

"Of course I did." Laughing, he caught her arm and directed her to move onward. "Aren't you hungry?" The growl of his stomach proved he was.

"I have been known to miss a meal without any undue consequences. But you—" Stopping, she looked him up and down, from top to toe, taking in his height but not lingering on his handsome features. "Given your size, you must eat more than your share at any meal." Heat flooded her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm not often so outspoken." Or bold.

He pursed his lips. "Ruby Woods, are you calling me a glutton?"

"Absolutely not." She pursed her lips in imitation of him. "And you know it." She shook her head enough to send strands of hair floating about her face. "I merely commented on your size. You're as big as Bertie, and he eats as much as his sisters put together."

"I guess it comes with the territory."

"Of which there is much." She waved her hand up and down his length.

"Nice to know you're admiring me."

At his morose tone, amusement rushed up her throat. She tried to contain the laughter filling her lungs but failed.

His frown might have made her wonder if she'd offended him, but the skin around his eyes crinkled.

Catching his hand, she pulled him toward the camp. As it came into view, she released her hold and smoothed her expression. Ma and her sisters would notice and comment if she appeared to be enjoying his company overly much. They might even scold her—for certain, they would if they knew how bold she'd been. One of them was likely to warn her she'd just met him and she should be cautious about being too friendly. Gabe might even feel it was his duty to tell Robert—What?

Well, something, and she didn't care to have any of those things happen.

She made sure to stay to the far side of the trail from him as they joined the others.