Page 65 of Wagon Train Honor
Irene touched the back of Ruby’s hand. “Invited to go to Banff. How exciting.”
“Thank you.” Shouldn’t the others be happy for her?
“Yes, of course. It’s a wonderful opportunity.” Ma nodded, her smile somewhat stiff. “But it means you’ll be leaving just when I thought our family would all be together.”
“I’m sorry.” How many times would she have to say those words before it was enough?
“Ruby, you draw good.” Bertie bobbed his head over and over. “Real good.”
“Thanks, brother.” She could always count on Bertie to cheer her on.
“He’s right,” Hazel said. “Ruby, I cannot believe your skill. I’m very proud of you. And going to Banff? That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
The others echoed Hazel’s praise. All except Ma, whose smile could’ve been drawn on.
So weary that her bones felt like wet yarn, Ruby pushed to her feet. “I’m going to bed. Good night.” After hurrying to the wagon to get her bedding, hoping to feign sleep before Angela caught up to her, Ruby was soon curled up under a blanket in the shelter of the wagon.
But not soon enough.
Angela knelt beside the nearest wheel. “I know you’re not asleep. You’ve barely laid down.”
Ruby ignored her. What would it take to make her go away?
“I knew you were drawing flowers. I’ve seen your work a time or two when you weren’t aware I was nearby. I’m not surprised you’ve been asked to help catalog plant life. But why keep it a secret? And why tell the truth now?”
Staying very still, Ruby kept her back to Angela. How was she to answer when she didn’t know? Except for one thing. “I didn’t want to deal with all the questions.” Case in point. “And I didn’t want anyone to try and talk me out of it.”
“Perhaps you’ve also missed the opportunity of having them encourage you.”
“Maybe.” The thought hadn’t entered Ruby’s mind. But she said nothing more, and finally, mercifully, Angela left. The wagon creaked as she settled in for the night.
Ruby’s breath released in a long sigh.
From the other wagons and nearby tents, she heard whispering. Were they talking about her? Not that she cared. She’d done what she needed to. And if revealing the truth on this day enabled her to pray more effectively, that was all that mattered.Please, God, protect Robert.
Footsteps padding by wakened her before any hint of dawn. She lay still, listening for a sign Robert had returned. Not hearing anything of the sort, she curled up and wished for sleep. Sleep would protect her from further questions and facing Ma’s disappointment. Sleep would block the ache in her heart from wondering and worrying about Robert.
But slumber eluded her. When the others started moving around, she had to get up. As soon as her bedding was stowed away, she made her reluctant way to the fire. “I’ll make pancakes.” The question in her tone made it possible for Ma to say she didn’t want them today, but Ma only thanked her.
Ruby’s sisters and Louise went about their chores as if nothing had happened and Ruby hadn’t made a difficult confession. Of course, she scolded herself; there was no reason to be so dramatic. Surprisingly, no one else offered words one way or the other on the subject. Seemed apparent it didn’t matter as much to them as to her.
After they’d all held half-full cups of coffee and their plates were cleaned and taken to the washbasin, Ma addressed the subject. “Would you mind if I took another look at your drawings?”
Ruby’s hesitation might not have been noticed by anyone else, but she was having a hard time shifting from her work being a secret to it being open to everyone. She hadn’t considered that. “Sure, Ma.” What else could she say? She handed the book over. If only she could pick and choose what pages the others could see, but that didn’t seem possible.
Ma turned one page at a time. “These drawings are so detailed.”
“They need to be if they are to be used for study.” Besides, she silently added, she liked capturing the tiniest detail.
Ma chuckled. Her amusement drew the others to crowd around her. They, too, laughed.
Ruby leaned over. Oh, the drawing of the gopher.
“He looks mischievous,” Ma said. A little later, she gasped. “Ruby, this is beautiful.”
She peered over Ma’s shoulder at the sketch she’d done by the river. Then it hit her. Her drawing of Robert was in a few more pages. She reached for the sketchbook. “The rest is much the same.” But Ma waved her away.
