things harder for them—especially harder for Pearl.”
Georgia was aware of her son’s resentment. “Hate is a strong word.”
“But it’s the right word in this case.”
Georgia had no idea what was going on inside Ruby’s head, but she knew her son well enough to know he’d directed a lot of anger toward the woman who’d unknowingly left all the care of her mother to his wife, and later to the kindness of his neighbors. “He’s going to need some time.”
The back door opened and closed, and Nash set the bag of lemons on the table. “We’re gonna wash up at the well.”
Joel rode his father’s hip as Nash headed out again.
Ruby took the lemons from the bag and found a cutting board. “He told me you called on my mother. Were you friends?”
Georgia nodded, not wanting to reveal more than Ruby was ready to hear. “We became good friends, yes.”
“Do you hate me, too?”
“Of course not. I barely know you.”
“You know what I did.”
Her frankness was surprising. “You headed out on your own and you sent money home.”
Ruby met her gaze with penetrating blue eyes, eyes like her mother’s, but more full of life and expression. “Mama told you that?”
Georgia nodded. “We spent a lot of time together. She told me many things.”
Claire returned clutching a rag doll. “The sheets aren’t on my bed.”
Ruby appeared flustered and brushed hair from her face with the back of a wet hand. “I didn’t realize that was your room when I chose a bed last night. I used to sleep there when I was your age.”
“You did?”
Ruby dried her hands on a length of toweling. “I washed all the sheets today, though, so I’ll leave them clean for the next time you sleep in your bed again.” She turned to Georgia. “I’d like to talk more when there’s time.”
Georgia gave her a long, considering look. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Ruby wasn’t sure what to make of the older woman’s lack of animosity, compared to her son’s, but she was thankful. No doubt Ruby would run up against a lot of people with the same negative opinion of her, so she might be smart to develop an even thicker skin.
It took a few minutes, but Ruby found a glass juicer and washed that as well. She then set to squeezing the lemon halves. “I have no idea how much sugar to add. I don’t even know if there is any.”
Georgia carried a chipped cup to the pantry and returned with it full. “This should do it.”
Nash came back and set a ragged square of ice near the sink. A few pieces of straw stuck to the surface. Georgia rinsed it off, found a mallet and chipped ice for their drinks.
When the lemonade was ready, they carried their glasses to the front porch. Ruby waited until the family was seated in what she assumed were their usual places before taking a seat on a nearby bench. An awkward silence followed.
“When did you get here?” Georgia finally asked.
“About dusk last night.”
“She slept in my bed,” Claire said to her father.
Nash didn’t look at any of them.
“How did you arrive?” Georgia asked.
“I rode in.” Ruby gestured to the corral, one end of which was visible from where they sat. She’d let her mare out that morning. “The Duchess is in the corral.”
“What about your belongings?”
“I had a couple of trunks shipped to the station in Crosby. I don’t own much that’s of use on a farm, though.”
“Ranch,” Nash corrected.
“I saw the mares ready to foal,” she replied. When he didn’t respond, she turned to Georgia. “Are your family all ranchers?”
“My husband owns a grain mill.” She glanced at her son, and Ruby picked up on something between them that made her wonder about his own family relationships. “Our daughter’s husband works there, too. Nash is the only horseman.”
When Joel got up and headed for the porch stairs, Nash followed. “Want to go see the horses, buddy?” He turned to his daughter. “Come to the barn with us, sweet pea.”
Claire glanced at her grandmother.
“Go with your father,” she encouraged. “We’ll be leaving shortly, and he wants to spend time with you.”
Claire set her doll on the porch swing beside Georgia and joined her little brother.
“She reminds me of Pearl,” Ruby said.
Georgia picked up the rag doll and absently smoothed its yarn hair. “She’s definitely the spitting image of her mother.”
“Not only her looks,” Ruby said softly, “but the way she’s so hesitant about everything.”
Georgia studied her. “Pearl was a good wife and mother. We all loved her.”
Ruby still heard no accusation in her tone or the appreciative statement. She glanced at the horse in the shade. “She was a good daughter, too, I guess.”
“She was devoted to your mother.”
Of course. Pearl had always done everything it took to please their mother. She hadn’t torn her stockings or misplaced her school books. She’d been a good student and had dutifully helped pull weeds, cook and put up vegetables and preserves. Ruby could still see them together in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a cake.
Her sister must have been a comfort to their mother. “How long was Mama sick?”
“Several years. There were times when it seemed she got stronger, but then she’d get weak again.”
Ruby had missed it all. The good days and the bad ones.
She’d been gone from home only a year when she’d realized her blunder. She had the freedom and independence she’d always craved, but there were no glamorous jobs for girls like her. She’d always been overly optimistic and impetuous, and more times than she cared to admit, those traits had landed her in tight situations. Leaving home with overblown dreams had been the most monumental of her rash mistakes, but she couldn’t run back to the place she’d escaped. There had been nothing here for her.
She’d been convinced she wasn’t cut out for a mundane life of cooking and cleaning and going to church. School had been torture enough—all those tedious days trapped inside and chained to someone else’s schedule. The world was too big and exciting, and life too full of possibilities to miss out on by following all the rules.
Besides, Ruby Dearing was not a quitter.
So she’d taken unglamorous jobs in saloons and gaming halls, avoiding crude advances and barely getting by, until eventually she’d joined a theater troupe and traveled. Sometimes the pay was good, other times just adequate. But she’d persisted.
If, at some point along that path, she could have swallowed her pride sooner and come for a visit... But there it was. She had held on to her dream until it was nothing more than a dirty rag. And now it was too late. She had always fallen short.
“Your mother loved you very much,” Georgia said.
Ruby had never doubted her mother’s love. Laura Dearing just hadn’t known what to do with her. “I was a disappointment. Even when I was here I wasn’t a pleasing child. I missed my father too much. I didn’t fit in with Mama’s routine or her plans. Not like Pearl.”
“Nobody’s perfect,