Free Ruby by Ruth Langan Page B

After all, she didn’t give a care what Marshal Quent Regan thought of her. Still, this simple lunch had taken on a festive note. The men’s jokes were funnier, and the apple pie sweeter. And by the time she’d measured the table and window, and secured an agreement with Millie Potter, Ruby floated out the door on a cloud.
    She lifted her skirts and strolled through town until she came to the stable where she’d left her horse and rig.
    “Afternoon, Miss Ruby.” Neville Oakley, blacksmith and owner of the livery stable, was a giant who stood over six and a half feet and weighed more than 350 pounds. Despite the heat of the day, he was standing in front of a roaring fire, shaping and forging a horseshoe. Rivers of sweat ran down his face and glistened on his bulging forearms.
    The moment he caught sight of Ruby he dropped everything and hurried inside the stable to hitch her horse. Minutes later he emerged into the sunshine leading the horse and rig.
    “Thank you, Mr. Oakley. What do I owe you?”
    “It’s hardly worth a thing, Miss Ruby. You weren’t in town more than half a day.”
    Ruby glanced at this rough man, who seemed to have earned the scorn of most of the town’s citizens. His hair, shaggy and coal black, seemed always plastered to his sweat-stained face. People whispered behind his back. It was said that in his youth he’d been a drunk and a bully, though no one had seen him take a drink in years, and no one could be found who’d ever had the misfortune to fight with him. But in a small town like Hanging Tree, a man’s reputation could be his best friend or his worst enemy. No matter how long he lived, or how well, it seemed impossible to erase the mistakes of his youth. To make matters worse, Neville Oakley presented a truly loathsome image to behold. His clothes were always shabby, his leather apron stained and work worn. He was a man feared by the town’s women and children and avoided by its men.
    From her first introduction to the man, Ruby had felt a kinship with him. She knew what it was to bear the jeers and whispers of others. And she understood the pain of living with a reputation that would not be put to rest.
    She held out a small, linen-clad bundle. “I am sorry, Mr. Oakley. I must insist that you take some payment. After all, my horse did eat your oats and drink your water. And my rig took up space in your barn.”
    “What’s this?” He kept his hands at his sides, refusing to accept her offering.
    “Lunch, Mr. Oakley. From Mrs. Potter’s boardinghouse.” Ruby pressed it to his chest and he was forced to accept it or have it fall to the ground.
    He seemed overwhelmed by this unexpected act of kindness. But to make matters worse, Ruby forced a coin into his big palm.
    He took a step back, nearly dropping everything in his haste to avoid touching her. “Careful, ma’am. You’ll get yourself all sweaty and dirty.”
     
    She smiled. “Dirt washes off, Mr. Oakley. And I admire the sweat of honest labor.”
    When she climbed into her rig and lifted the reins she called, “Good day, Mr. Oakley. Thank you for taking such fine care of my horse and rig. Enjoy your lunch.”
    The big man watched until she drove away. Then he sat down in the shade of a tree and unwrapped the linen as though it were the most cherished gift he’d ever been given. In fact, it was the first gift he could ever recall having been given. He stared at the chicken and fresh biscuits, drizzled with honey. And at the oversize piece of apple pie. For the longest time he didn’t move. Then, brushing something from his eyes, he began to eat, savoring every morsel.
    Quent emerged from the stable where he’d been saddling his horse. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. But now that he had, he was even more confused about Ruby Jewel.
    Did she just have to charm every man she met? Was this why she’d gone out of her way to be kind to Neville Oakley? Or was there more to this young woman than he’d first suspected?
    Damn