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“Why don’t you take a few of me pretending to work around the store? That way you can show people what a typical person’s life was like in the...now.”
Henry looked at me as if I had just discovered penicillin. “A marvelous idea, Callista!”
One that I paid dearly for, standing in several stiff, uncomfortable poses, frozen for the grueling time needed for the camera to capture its image.
For the next hour I stood reaching for a can of beans on the back shelf, or dramatically gazing out of the store window, or examining a bolt of checkered gingham as if I was considering it for a new Sunday dress.
By the end of our photoshoot, every muscle in my body ached from the exertion of stretching and freezing for long moments. I now had a greater appreciation for professional models of my own time.
“Do you think Mike would be willing to have his portrait taken?” Henry asked as he stored his equipment back in the supply room.
I arched a brow at him answering, “I seriously doubt it, and I wouldn’t suggest it to him if you don’t want your head bit off.”
Henry chuckled, always appreciating my quirky twentieth century idioms. “I’ll choose to keep my head on my shoulders then. Oh, here comes Mrs. Murphy to pick up her weekly rice and flour order. Would you go see to her while I store this away.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” I said with a military salute that made him snicker again.
I aided the buxom woman with that and additional items she added she selected. When finished and the customer left, I turned my attention to the black haired woman rummaging through the cloth bolts in the corner.
“Can I help you?” I asked her.
She whirled around and faced me, holding a royal blue gingham bolt. “Yes, I would like three yards—”
“Ruby!” I blurted. “Oh God, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for weeks. I’m so sorry, I don’t think we’ve ever properly met. I’m Callista McEwan. I’m visiting the territory for the summer.”
Ruby frowned at my outstretched right hand for a long minute before she tentatively shook it. Apparently the proper local women didn’t associate with the likes of her.
“How are you doing, by the way?” I asked with lowered voice. “I hope Sheriff Wilkens didn’t take his anger for me out on you. I’ve been sick at the thought of it. I really didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.”
“No, it was fine. Ray was...It was my fault for riling him up like I did,” she stammered, nervously checking around.
Right. I had heard that before—from every abused woman in the entire world.
A timeless excuse, it appeared.
I wanted to ask if she had kept the baby, or if she allowed Wilkens to pressure her into aborting it in some abhorrent way. Not that it was my business. Not that I could really offer her any help if she did or didn’t.
“Ruby, I’ve wanted to talk to you about...your situation. You probably don’t know this, but I’m good friends with your sister Dove-caller.”
Ruby’s green eyes widened. “You...you didn’t tell her about seeing me in town, did you? If Black Crow found out I was here, or the elder council...”
“I’m sure you’re safe,” I said.
But was she?
Yikes. I never considered the possible ramifications of her crime against the village. What if the men of her village would come to town and drag her back in order to make her pay for it?
Was that why Bryant had kept his mouth shut about seeing her in Silver Falls?
I dipped into my skirt pocket and lifted out the red and white beaded bracelet and handed it to her.
“Your sister wanted me to give this to you,” I said. “She knows about the baby and says if you ever want to go back—”
“I can’t go back,” she said, cutting me off. “Never mind. I don’t need the cloth. Thank you for your help.”
“Ruby, wait!”
She dashed for the door, and I jaunted quickly after her, halting just at the edge. I had given my word to Bryant not to leave the store, and as much as I’d like to break it and run after this poor girl, I could offer her no real solutions to her dilemma. Here in town or at the village, her life was ruined.
