Page 14 of Wagon Train Honor
Angela rushed after her, waiting until they were away from the others to whisper. “You must tell me all about Constable Robert Davis.”
There was nothing for Ruby to tell. At least, not to Angela. Or anyone else, for that matter. What was wrong with wishing she could keep him to herself?
Chapter 4
Robert retreated to his solitary camp in a grove behind the trading post. Hiram had invited him to share the small quarters in the back of the store, but the man snored like a mad bull. No thanks. Better to be out in the open, enjoying the star-dotted sky and his own thoughts.
Ruby’s family seemed nice. Warm, welcoming. The whole place was full of love. Of course, as they’d told him, four marriages had taken place since they’d started out. And Dobie had been found orphaned and welcomed into their midst. You could rightfully say love lived in their midst.
Ruby was fortunate to belong to such a family.
He chuckled. He’d enjoyed the time he’d spent with her, and tomorrow promised more of the same.
His smile lingered as he woke the next morning. He stayed between his covers, savoring the promise of sunrise and, even more, the plan to show Miss Ruby the wonderful things Cypress Hills offered. Soon, it was time to start the day, and he hurried to dress and put away his things. Before he took time for coffee, he meant to patrol the place. The Millers and Woods were stirring. Sunlight flashed off coppery-blonde hair. He paused long enough to see Ruby go to the fire with a large coffeepot. Stood a moment, smiling at the sight and letting pleasure warm his insides.
In minutes, the sun shone bright in a cloudless sky. A gentle breeze sifted across the treetops. He drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pine and grass. It was going to be a good day. Made all the more gratifying by sharing it with a pretty young gal.
He moved on.
One camp of men concerned him. Tough-looking riders, they’d ridden in midday yesterday, their horses coated with sweat and dust. As soon as they’d seen his red serge, they’d stared and then developed a sudden, intense interest in preparing their campfire. Of course, some men were unaccountably nervous around a Mountie. It might signify a guilty conscience. But they’d done nothing he was aware of, and until he knew otherwise, he would simply keep an eye on them.
Today he’d put aside his red coat, choosing instead his favorite gray shirt with the black trim. After all, he wasn’t here on assignment, though as a Mountie, he was always on duty. But today, he wanted to be Robert Davis. Nothing more. Nothing less.
But even without the bright jacket, the four men studied him with narrowed eyes and then turned their backs as if the fire they cooked over needed emergency tending. Their actions were certainly not welcoming. His scalp tingled. What were they hiding? Or were they afraid of him?
He slowed his steps. Considered joining them and making friendly conversation. But no doubt they’d find his friendliness something else. His gut twisted. Were they up to something or just a no-good bunch always on the brink of bad news?
At the other camp, one of the six friendly men called to him to join them for coffee. An invitation he was only too glad to accept. He’d already learned the men were planning to file on homesteads. They hadn’t decided if they should choose near here or go further west and asked his opinion. No need of telling them he had his eye on the best spot in the West. Just as soon as he finished with his contract as a NWMP in a few weeks, he’d file on it.
Instead, he gave his opinion. “If you’re wanting good farmland, I’d suggest looking for a flat area with only a few trees.”
He downed the rest of his coffee and moved on, following the trail to the barn. He saddled his horse and rode to a spot that allowed him to see for miles.
No dust rose in the distance. No smoke trailed upward signaling a camp.
Yesterday, he’d have been disappointed the horses weren’t arriving.
Today, he was grateful. It gave him time to show Ruby around.
He rode on another half mile, then turned back, satisfied he’d done his duty and there was no reason for concern so far as he could tell. He returned his horse to the barn and ensured he had food and water. The would-be homesteaders waved as he strode past. The other camp watched him without a word of greeting.
Before he turned aside at the trading post, Bertie called.
“Mr. Mountie. Hi.” He trotted over in a lopsided gait, his dog and goat following.
Robert waited. “Good morning, Bertie.” The goat butted Robert. “Good morning to you too, Alice.”
“Alice like you.”
The dog, called Limpy for obvious reasons, lowered his hindquarters to the ground. His tongue lolled out in a way that said he would like to be greeted too and maybe petted.
Robert patted the dog’s head. His fur was surprisingly soft. “Hi, Limpy.”
“Limpy like you.” Bertie tipped his head from side to side, assessing Robert. “I like you too.”
What had he seen that he liked? Or maybe Robert’s friendship with Carson gained him approval.
Bertie nodded. “Ruby like you.”
