grinned as she walked over to the tub and pulled the cork out of the bottom. She then started putting the room back in order.
“I didn’t expect such modern conveniences,” Janette said. Anna had mentioned the Triple C, but not in detail. So had Max. Then again, when they had mentioned the ranch, it was in connection to Gabe, who they both swore was on the ornery side. Janette hadn’t believed them, not completely.
Then, that is.
“Every time Gabe travels to a city, he comes back with some newfangled idea or another,” Rosalie said. “I’m glad he does. The water is piped out from beneath the washroom and runs all the way to the garden. Same with the tub in the kitchen. It sure has saved me from carrying a lot of water.”
Janette couldn’t quite believe he had created the drains just to reduce the amount of work Rosalie did. That didn’t seem like the Gabe she’d met, or the one Max and Anna had talked about.
“It might be a month or more after he’s seen it that he sets into building it,” Rosalie said. “Because he ponders on things until he has it all worked out in his mind before he sets into building it. That’s how Gabe is. Thinks things through, good and solid.” With a laugh, she added, “Max, on the other hand, he’d jump into things like there was a pack of wolves chasing him. Lord, but those two could butt heads. Yet, they were the best of friends.”
Janette had to force a lump out of her throat before she could even bite the thread in two. She didn’t need to learn anything more about Gabe than she already knew. Thankful for her speedy slip stitch, she held the dress up. “Here we are, Ruby. Let’s see if it fits.”
After removing the towel, she slipped the dress over Ruby’s shoulders and tugged the material down until it flowed clear to her tiny ankles. The child was thin. Though Janette had arrived in Texas as soon as possible, Ruby had also been ill, and it had been weeks since the child had eaten as she should. After dealing with the necessary tasks, Janette had packed Ruby up and left Texas as quickly as she’d arrived. At the first stage stop, she purchased all the extra food she could and had encouraged the child to eat regularly while traveling.
“Well, you certainly are swift with a needle, aren’t you?” Rosalie said. “Talented, too. It doesn’t even look like it had been one of my old sleeping gowns.”
“It’s just a simple pinafore,” Janette said, turning Ruby around to make sure the makeshift gown fitted properly. Whether it was a simple shift or a dazzling ball gown, every garment she made filled her with joy. Her mother had said that one must enjoy their work, and Janette believed that wholeheartedly. “But it will do nicely until her clothing dries.” Once again, she was inclined to say, “I’m sorry for the trouble we are putting you through.”
“Trouble?” Rosalie shook her head. “This is more fun than I’ve had in a long time.”
The shine in Rosalie’s eyes and the grin on her face made Janette smile. Couldn’t help it. The older woman beamed like a ray of sunshine. Shaking her head, Janette said, “Well, if doctoring poison ivy victims and washing clothes is fun, I don’t think I want to know what you usually do.”
Rosalie’s laughter bounced off the walls as she picked up the basket of clothes. “Oh, darling, it’s not the work. It’s the company that makes it fun. There are plenty of people living on the Triple C, but every one of them is so busy, few enter the house. Some days I’m so lonely, I find myself talking to the flies.” With a nod toward Ruby, she continued, “Follow me. There’s a mama cat with a basketful of rambunctious kittens on the back porch that I think someone is going to love.”
Ruby did love the kittens, and, feeling useless, Janette insisted there had to be something she could do while Rosalie washed their clothes. Finally giving in, Rosalie stated that although she could cook every type of food known to man, she had two left hands when it came to sewing. Therefore, while Ruby played with the kittens and Rosalie washed clothes, Janette sewed on buttons, stitched up rips, patched holes and sewed pockets back on a variety of clothing.
“The hands are gonna be happier than frogs in a pond,” Rosalie said. “Some of those things have been in that basket so long I don’t remember what belongs to whom.”
“I’m happy to do something useful,” Janette replied.
“You’re useful, all right,” Rosalie said. “So useful, I’ll be carrying down a second basket of mending afore I start making those apple dumplings.”
A familiar and tantalizing smell met Gabe as he entered the house. Apple dumplings. Rosalie hadn’t made them in a while. Regardless of the heavy thoughts that had hung with him all day, a smile touched his lips at how his stomach growled. She’d made them because of their company, but that wouldn’t stop him from eating several. Having already washed up with the others near the bunkhouse, he headed straight for the wide staircase on the far side of the front foyer. In his room, he was surprised to see his favorite tan shirt in his wardrobe. Usually mending of any kind took Rosalie months. It never bothered him, but he had missed this shirt. Most of his others were too tight across the shoulders.
After tucking in the shirt, he combed his hair and left his hat on the dresser. His mother had been a stickler for hats not being worn at the table, and though she’d been gone over ten years, he abided by that rule every evening. Along with several other women, his mother had been in his thoughts today. She’d have been beside herself with happiness to see Ruby. Father, too. They both had talked about generations of Callaways living on the Triple C. Mother had loved the ranch as much as the rest of them and had worked as hard. She’d been the one to teach him how to use a branding iron, along with various other tasks. Back then, Father had been gone a lot. Buying cattle, driving them home. Mother had always stayed home and saw that the work was done just as regularly as Father would have. Anna’s enthusiasm at seeing the ranch had reminded him of his mother. Although she’d been on her way to Denver, Anna had said she didn’t like living in the city, but that her sister did.
Janette was that sister. The one who’d insisted Anna go to Denver. He wasn’t about to let Janette have the chance to insist Ruby do anything. Especially something she wouldn’t want to do. He’d concluded that while sorting out the cattle that would soon be driven to the rail station and shipped west.
Miss Janette Parker was about to see just how stubborn he could be.
A thought had him pausing in his bedroom door, taking a moment to inspect the stitches that secured the pocket to the front of his shirt. He’d accidentally ripped the pocket completely off a while back. The neat and even stitches were not Rosalie’s handiwork. She’d been mending his clothes for years and had never mastered the art of even stitches.
Oh, well. The repair of a shirt, his favorite or not, would not put Miss Janette Parker in a better light. Not in his mind. Or his life.
Gabe made his way through the second floor and down the stairs before he heard the laughter. It made him stop and listen. It had been a long time since the sound of a child’s laugh had echoed off these walls. Some of the walls—actually, most of them—hadn’t been there when he and Max had been small. A lot had changed since those early years, and in the last five years. The building of the railroad had a lot to do with the changes. Ever since that first engine, almost every train that stopped several miles north of the house to take on water also unloaded building materials his father had ordered. For the past six years, he’d been the one ordering the materials and the supplies to keep the Triple C prospering.
Giggles still filtered the air, and once again, he found himself cracking a grin. It was clearly a child’s laughter, a little girl’s. Even small, girls and boys sounded different. A pang shot across his stomach. One that held sorrow. If Max had chosen differently, he’d be here now to hear his daughter’s laugh.
That idea was still mingling in Gabe’s mind when he pushed the kitchen door open. Without thought, he reached down and scooped up the flash of fur