Ruby turns the unopened letter over and over in her hand. Five days she’s had it now. The all-too familiar address is all the more reason not to unseal it.
Ruby hears footsteps on the porch and quickly tucks the letter back into her pocket. A portly woman barges through the door, a thinner friend in tow. Ruby does a double take. What in heaven’s name?
“Sisters of the Order of Disorder,” the bigger woman laughs. She has whiskers around her large mouth. Other than her lively wide-set eyes and prominent nose, the rest of her head is covered with a wimple. She extends her hand. “Sister Mary Lamb, from St. Joseph of Carondelet. And this is Sister Mary Theresa, although I call her ‘The Other Mary.’ We are all Marys.” Her voice, deep-set for a woman, is nevertheless warm and welcoming.
The other woman nods. She is as thin as the other woman is broad, with a delightfully pretty face, what Ruby can see of it.
“Come in, come in,” Ruby says. “From St. Mary’s Hospital? Tucson?”
“Affiliated, yes.”
“You good sisters do more for Tucson than a fly in a currant pie.” Ruby motions to the well-stocked bar. “Help yourself, ladies. Supper and liquor is included in your lodging, a dollar a night each. Breakfast is fifty cents extra if you’re not staying the week.”
“Ah,” Mary Lamb says. “I see you’re a shrewd businesswoman.” She pours two generous shots of whiskey into a short glass and hands the tumbler to The Other Mary. Then she dispenses one for herself, a three-fingered shot from where Ruby stands. “We’ll make good on that arrangement.”
Rare as chicken fricassee on a cattle ranch that Ruby gets solo female guests. These women—are they really sisters? Ruby doesn’t judge. If women like the company of other women, that’s their business.
The nuns settle into one of the plush damask green sofas facing the massive fireplace.
Ruby opens the register. She thinks back to the time President Teddy Roosevelt swaggered up the stairs of Jericho Inn back in ’03, eighty degrees and a sky blue as an ocean. Roosevelt took up four lines when he signed his name in the oversized register, and then he called for a mint julep. Ruby had never heard of such a thing.
Sister Mary Lamb’s deep purr brings Ruby back to the present. “We will just trouble you for one night, Mrs.…?”
“Fortune. Ruby Fortune. Raised right here in Jericho.”
Mary Lamb gulps the last of her drink and pours another. “It’s mighty fine to come across such a reputable establishment in a town such as this. Am I to presume there is a Mr. Fortune?”
“Not anymore.”
“I see.” Mary Lamb laughs, a deep, rumbling from her abdomen. “But nothing in the Lord’s wide domain surprises me. To our rooms, then. After a short nap, we’ll avail ourselves of your little town. You do have a surplus of taverns here in Jericho?”
“Taverns? Why, there’s eight, ten, maybe more. Closest one is Judd’s. What interest do you”—what should she call them, ‘ladies’?—“have with a tavern?”
“Everyone inquires about that. In Bisbee …” The Other Mary pipes in.
“Shush now, Mary Theresa. I doubt Mrs. Fortune here is interested in our latest escapade.”
“On the contrary, I’m fascinated.”
“In Bisbee,” The Other Mary continues, ignoring her companion. “We squeezed every last nickel out of townsfolk for our hospital and our orphanage.”
“Ever see anyone say no to a nun?” Mary Lamb booms. Her laugh reverberates through the room. “Didn’t think so. After our respite, you can point the way. We’ll start with—what did you say the name was?”
“Judd’s.”
A knock on the kitchen door. “Halooo. Miss Ruby?”
“Excuse me for a moment,” Ruby says.
“‘Neither a borrower nor a lender be,’” Wink says, as Ruby approaches the screen door. “Hamlet. Act 1, Scene 3.”
“What can I get you, Wink?”
“Sorry to trouble you, but I thought you might have some use for these.” He reaches into his pack and pulls out a stack of rags. “Dumped by the rubbish pile.”
Ruby takes the handful of tattered cloths. “Can always find use for these. Thank you, Wink. At least it’s not, you know.”
“Women’s duds?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Ruby turns to the sideboard and wraps up a slice a pie. “Tit for tat.”
Wink smiles, his yellowed teeth marked with stain. “‘If music be the food of love, play on.”
“What play?”
“Twelfth Night.”
“Don’t know that one.” Truth is, Ruby has never heard of any of them.
“That’s my favorite of all.” Wink’s hands fly in front of his seldom-washed face. “Raucous adventure. Thrilling intrigue. Masked identity. Don’t let anyone tell you the Bard is dry.”
“Maybe one day I’ll read one of those plays of yours.”
“In time, Miss Ruby, in time. When you have use for them.”
Like that’s going to happen anytime soon.
“READY?” RUBY PULLS ON HER red gloves. She grabs her hat and opens the front door. Sister Mary Lamb and The Other Mary look less refreshed than Ruby would have thought after their three-hour rest. She can’t imagine living beneath that dark habit, cowl, and wimple in Arizona heat.
“My son, Virgil, works at the post office.” From her yard, Ruby points to the brick structure across the street. “And …” Ruby stops short and puts her hand out instinctively to block the nuns from coming another step. “Don’t move.” Ruby pulls her pistol from her waistband and shoots a curled rattler not two feet from where the women stand. The snake wriggles and goes still, its tail still rattling.
“My God, Mrs. Fortune,” Mary Lamb says. The Other Mary blanches.
“God’s got nothing to do with it.” Ruby finds a stout stick and lifts the lifeless snake. “I was a lady sharpshooter in my day. Years of practice.” She deposits the dead snake on the far side of the fence near the property line. “Now, where was I?”
As the women walk up Jefferson, Ruby points out other landmarks. They skirt horses and burros, freighters and wagons. The Other Mary keeps her head low, looking for snakes.
At the top of the rise, the women stop for a breath. Ruby motions toward the tavern across the street. “Best of luck to you,” she says. “Hope you clean them out.”
“Damn right about that,” Mary Lamb says.
Ruby reaches into her inner vest pocket. “Here’s five dollars to get you started. I’m an orphan, too.”
“Very generous of you, Ruby Fortune of Jericho.”
Ruby watches the nuns cross the street and enter the saloon. What she’d give to see these two in action. Ruby used to accompany Big Burl to Judd’s when she was a girl. Saw more there than any nickelodeon. And went after Willie there more times than she can count. But she hasn’t been back to Judd’s since Willie died. Old Judd and Willie were tight, and she doesn’t want to cross him. She has enough trouble with Jimmy Bugg around.
“’Afternoon, Ruby,” Harvey Burton says as Ruby enters the general store. “Who’re your friends?”
“Not friends. Lodgers. From St. Mary’s in Tucson.”
“The hospital?”
“Yes. Raising funds for their orphanage there.”
“In a saloon?”
“Best place to pass the hat, they say. No one says no to the kind sisters.”
“One looks bigger than a house. Maybe that’s why. Wouldn’t want to cross her.”
“Bark worse than her bite,” Ruby says. “And funny, I might add. The younger one plays it meek, but I’m sure she’s just as cunning. Doe eyes, she has, like she’s seducing you.”
“A nun? Seducing?” Burton laughs. “This I need to see. Mae! Come out front, will you? Need to go out for minute.”
“Bring your wallet, Harvey,” Ruby says.
Burton pats his vest. “Noted.” He barges out the door of the general store and heads toward the tavern.
Mae Burton comes out from behind the large wooden counter filled with penny candy and nickel sundries. “Mrs. Fortune! What can I get for you today? A nice leg of mutton came in just this morning.”
Mutton, now there’s a specialty. Quail and rabbit Ruby can get any day. Or venison. But mutton, yes, that will be a treat for the traveling sisters when they return from their venture to Jericho’s saloons. She can’t wait to hear all about it.
“Shall I put it on your account?” Mae asks. “It seems Mr. Burton is intent on spending all our profits today.”
“And add another pound of butter and some corn meal.”
“Done. Oh, and take a few calendars. April, already, can you believe it? We’ve got more calendars than we know what to do with. Tuck them into your guest rooms.”
Ruby hurries home, the leg of mutton under her arm. As she approaches the inn, Ruby sees a young woman standing on the porch shading her eyes.
“Can I help you?”
The girl turns to face Ruby.
Ruby’s heart lurches in her chest. A large welt flowers under the girl’s eye, which is swollen shut. The girl can’t be more than sixteen, maybe even younger than when Willie started thrashing her.
“Who did this to you?”
The girl lowers her hand. “A fella.”
“Who? Where?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Did you just arrive in Jericho?”
“Vi sent me. Told me to find Ruby Fortune.”
Ruby nods. “About time. What are we doing wasting daylight?” Ruby takes the girl’s elbow and steers her into the inn.
“And you are?”
“Penny.”
“Well, Penny Whatever-Your-Name-Is. Let’s get a cold cloth on that eye of yours and we can talk it out over tea.” Ruby guides Penny across the parlor, through the dining room, and into the kitchen. “Let’s just say I’ve had my share of blackened eyes.”
“You were …”
“No. But my momma worked the line. At Vi’s. I was born there.” Ruby dabs the younger woman’s eye. “Have I shocked you? I’ve been known to do that without even trying. Can’t count the number of times I looked a sight like you. But I need the help here, Penny. That’s where you come in.”
“Judd’ll be looking for me within the hour.”
“Judd? What the hell does Judd have to do with it? Did he do this to you?”
The girl nods. “I stayed there the last few nights, getting up my courage to come see you. He said I owed him all my wages for his hospitality. I fought him for it.”
“Judd can go piss on himself,” Ruby says. “He’s got it out for me, too, but for different reasons. He wouldn’t dare cross me in my own home. Sit here while I fetch another cloth.”
“You’re Fletcher’s ma?” the girl asks.
Ruby stops and turns to the girl. “You know my boy?”
“In a backwards way. I’ve seen to his pals the last couple of nights. Judd won’t have boys up in the rooms. But you can always make two bits on the side. More if there’s more than one of them.”
“Seems you’ve been busy.” Ruby places the cool rag over the girl’s eye again. She thinks of the Jarrett brothers, Leroy and Lorne. What ever became of them? Not that she didn’t enjoy their company …
Penny bites her bottom lip. “Not saying I didn’t like them, although they were a bit fumbling.”
“A bit young, I might add.”
Penny looks around the kitchen. “What kind of help are you needing here, ma’am?”
“Not in the way you’re accustomed.” Ruby wonders if hiring Penny is a good idea after all. Does she know the difference between a stew pot and braising pan? Flour from saleratus? “Where’s your family, anyway?”
“Kansas. Clamped onto a fella coming west when I was fifteen. Last I saw him, he was heading out of Jerome on a fast horse. Not because of me. He might’ve killed a man, I’m not sure, but I suspect it. You hear everything in the trade. Made my way in Jerome for a few months until an older gentleman—I guess you’d call him a gentleman, he didn’t hit me, at least—brought me to Tucson. The money’s steadier there, he said. And the clientele isn’t as rough.”
“I can’t offer you the same wages, but I can offer room, board, and two dollars a week if you’re a hard worker. But there won’t be any shenanigans. I mean it. I’ve got two boys here.” Ruby shoots Penny a sly eye. “Young boys.”
Penny dabs her eye again. “It’s just that I don’t know how much I’ll be able to do, being in the family way.”
There are ways to prevent it these days, Ruby thinks, but that’s water under the bridge now. She needs the help. And there’ll be time to teach the girl about pennyroyal later. Ruby washes out the rag, wrings it, and hands it back to the girl. “You’re welcome to stay until the baby comes. And you can keep all your wages.” Ruby stands over the seated girl, hands on her hips. “What I’d like to know is why the hell didn’t you come here straight away?”
Penny lowers the cloth and looks up at Ruby. “Heard from the stage driver that you’re not exactly roses.”
“Hmph. Guess not. But don’t worry about Judd coming after you. I’ll take care of him.”
RUBY ARRIVES AT JUDD’S Tavern in time to see the backside of the nuns heading up Brewer’s Alley. She ditches her plan to confront Old Judd—yet—and tails Sister Mary Lamb and The Other Mary to The Empire. From her vantage point, Ruby watches Mary Lamb talking expressively to the barkeep, her head and hands animated.
The barkeep rings a bell at the end of the long mahogany bar. The din inside the saloon quiets.
“Gentlemen!”
A titter of guffaws.
“You, Frommer! And you, too, Chamberlain. All you chaps. Open your purses now, and give the good sisters a generous portion of your wages. The Good Book says to help orphans and widows—”
“We do our best with the widows!” one man shouts. Grimy men with soiled hats and scuffed boots hiked up on the long brass foot rail try, without success, not to spit chaw as they laugh.
“—as I was saying,” the barkeep says, “see that all your wages don’t go down a clap hole.”
Sister Mary Lamb’s bosom butts so close to patrons as she works the long bar that men would need a battering ram to elude her. Into her hand go coins, bills, nuggets. Sister Mary Theresa works tables, her pleading eyes and outstretched hands melting men’s resolve.
When they emerge, Sister Mary Lamb is sweating profusely.
“Well done,” Ruby says.
“Why, Mrs. Fortune!” The Other Mary says. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“Couldn’t miss out,” Ruby says. “Let’s head to The Imperial next. After that, Dodson’s. If you’re needing an extra hand, I’ll help collect. Why, we’ve got six, eight more watering holes to hit before the afternoon is out. Nothing I like better than parting a man from his money for a good cause.”