“How do you know Dr. Grant?” Ruth asked politely, trying to hide her pain. “He and my father were good friends for many years.”
“Oh?” Mary looked surprised and exchanged an uncomfortable look with her husband. “I’m sorry to tell you, but he passed away almost two weeks ago. His son, Daniel, looks after the ranch now.”
“Oh, dear! I had no idea. I’m so sorry to hear that.” Ruth was shocked. This likely explained why she was left at the depot with no one arrived to fetch her. Did Daniel not know she was coming? What would she do if he didn’t take her in? Where would she go?
“He was a great doctor and a respected one,” Mary said gently. “My husband worked with him in his clinic. Richard used to be a medic when he served in the army and helped out now and then at the Grant clinic.”
“I see.” Ruth nodded and pursed her lips. She managed to stop squelch the urge to cry. It seemed things were going from bad to worse.
Ruth felt a soft nudge on her arm. She looked down and saw Tom holding up a packet of boiled sweets.
“Candy always makes me happy,” Tom said with a bright grin. “You can have as many as you want.”
“Thank you, Tom.” Ruth tried to smile back. “I love candy.” She didn’t know what to think or say anymore. Now that Dr. Grant had passed away, what would happen to her?
“I’s alright.” Tom grinned, “I have another bag full of sweets.”
“Is Daniel a rancher?” Ruth asked. At Tom’s insistence, she took another piec of his candy.
“No, he’s a physician, like his father,” Mary said. “He left Cheyenne to study to attend medical school.”
Ruth ran her hands over her hair to feel for any loose strands in her chignon, but the wagon’s sway made it difficult.
“Daniel now works at his father’s clinic.” Mary continued, shifting with the motion of the wagon. “He got married, and he and his wife had a child,” Mary said as she threw out an arm to stop some luggage from toppling over when the wheels hit a large bump.
“That must be very difficult,” Ruth murmured, feeling sympathy toward the young Dr. Grant. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you cherish.” She paused wistfully, thinking of her father once again and longing for his advice.
“What kind of a person is Daniel?” Ruth asked timidly. She was beginning to worry about what he’d think when he saw her, especially if he wasn’t expecting her.
“Daniel has always been pleasant and kind to us,” Mary commented, holding the seat as the wagon swayed again.
Ruth began to wonder about Daniel and whether he was anything like her father, her own father’s good friend. Maybe he would be kind enough to let her stay until she could find something to do on her own, as well as a place to stay. It wouldn’t be right to impose on him and his family. She couldn’t go back to Colorado Springs because her father’s property and belongings had been sold.
Was God testing her faith? What should she do? Despondent, she realized that all she could do was trust in Him.Oh, Lord, Ruth thought,my life is in your hands, and I trust that you have prepared a place for me.
Chapter Two
Cheyenne, Wyoming, 1891
One Day Earlier
The old piano tanged away, competing against the chattering of people and the clinking of drinking bottles, followed by bouts of laughter from a group of men who smelled strongly of tobacco and beer. They surrounded the large, chipped and gouged pinewood poker table that was sticky from beer.
Smaller tables of similar design were scattered around the room, all surrounded by simple square-shaped pine chairs secured by four thick square legs. Some sat on large empty barrels.
“Play ‘Fun in a Bottle,’” someone drawled as his tablemates shouted around him. The piano man yelled back obscenities in jest, as he honored the request. The beat was sharp and quick, with listeners hooting and laughing as they clapped.
Sitting at the bar, Daniel shifted on one of the high wobbly barstools as he finished his third drink. He slammed it hard onto the old oak counter kept polished with beeswax. Three barmen could easily fit behind it. Mounted on the walls were old pictures and wooden shelves, but only those shelves behind the counter held various kinds of brandies, beers, whiskeys, and unknown mixed concoctions.
“Another firewater, please!” Daniel said and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
The saloon owner, Arthur McIntyre, approached Daniel as he wiped his hands on a cloth.
“Y’know, Doc, I’m surprised to see you here,” Arthur said and leaned elbows on the counter.
“Another firewater, I said,please”Daniel looked up and saw the surprise on Arthur’s face. Daniel continued to stare at him, and his mustache twisted as he eyed Arthur through narrowed eyes. Arthur sighed in resignation, took the mug, and refilled it while bottles clinked amidst bouts of more laughter. The wooden batwing doors swung open followed by the creak of the floorboards underneath steadily shuffling boots.
“There’s quite a crowd today,” Tommy Parker said and sat on an empty barstool next to Daniel and ordered a beer. “Food’s good, drink’s good, nothing’s like the Old Gem Saloon, hey?” He was a young rancher, new to the area, and tried hard to get along with everyone, especially with the ladies. Daniel was not the only one to warn him, time and time again, that if he wanted to find a good wife, he should not be charming ladies. But he never listened because he enjoyed the attention.
