"Don't worry; it's probably not even loaded," Ruth said, trying to set his mind at ease as they trudged up the rest of the hill. "Momma only lets him put bullets in it when he goes hunting."
"That's reassuring," Kid said dryly. If he had the habit of pointing guns at people for no reason, it was no wonder. He just hoped it wasn't also because the man was trigger-happy.
A small, wooden house with a stone chimney was waiting at the crest of the hill. On the porch was a lady he assumed to be Ruth's mother. She was a petite, short woman who may have been lucky to have been 5 foot. She stood there with fists on her hips and a long wooden spoon in hand. Large, wide eyes that were as blue as Ruth's observed the situation and looked none too amused by what she saw. She somehow managed to intimidate him more than the man with the rifle on his back.
"James McKenzie, you get your gun off that boy this minute!"
Apparently she intimidated her husband too because he quickly removed it, and Kid couldn't help but give a sigh of relief.
"It wasn't even loaded, Mary," he mumbled barely intelligible.
She must have had sharp hearing or they'd had this conversation before because she answered, "I don't care. That ain't no way to treat a body just cause you don't recognize his face."
"Sorry, son. You can't be too careful. Some desperate, thieving characters come through these parts on their way westward." He didn't sound like he was all that sorry.
The situation taken care of, Mary's eyes lit up with joy at the sight of her daughter and she ran to hug her like the prodigal son's father. "I knew you'd be back," she exclaimed.
"Well, I ain't back for good, Momma. This is just a visit. Besides, I thought you knew I'd get scalped by an Indian or be forced into being a saloon girl," Ruth said, her eyes twinkling with contained mirth.
"Don't get smart with me, young lady. You ain't too old for me to turn you across my knee," she said, wagging her spoon for emphasis.
Kid grinned. He believed the little woman would do it, and he also wouldn't be a bit surprised to find she used the spoon for more than stirring. It was apparent to him where Ruth had gotten her stubborn streak.
Mary took in his grin, seeming to just remember he was there. "Kind of nosy, aren't you? Who are you anyway? Did you escort my daughter here?"
"I did, ma'am." He left the telling of who he was to Ruth.
"This is Kid Cole, my husband," Ruth told her.
Mary's wide eyes got wider and she looked him over from top to bottom, trying to size him up with one glance.
James guffawed. "You're kind of regretting asking me to take my gun off him now, aren't you, Mother?"
"Oh, hush up. If they're married, they're married. Why didn't you write that you got yourself a husband? All we got was the letters you posted in Santa Fe. There was no mention of a man."
"We ain't been married long, and we figured by the time we posted the news and it got here, we'd be here instead," she explained.
"Oh, well, no use standing out here freezing to death," Mary said. "Might as well go inside where it's warm. How'd ya'll get here anyway?"
"Our horses and wagon is at the bottom of the hill," Ruth said.
"I'll have your brothers take them out to the barn just as soon as they find them nanny goats," though her tone was mild enough and her features schooled, the way she'd said nanny goats made it sound as if those words were the most vile, disgusting words in the English language.
Ruth chuckled. "Them goats still giving you trouble?"
"If they had any meat worth eating on their bones, they would've been in my stew pot months ago, and if they didn't produce milk, I'd be tempted to do it anyhow."
The living room was full of places to sit down, indicating the house was usually full of people.
Once they were all seated, the first question he was asked by his father-in-law was, "What do you do for a living?"
Ruth tensed but let Kid do the answering.
"Well, I guess you could say I'm a gunfighter, sir, but now I aim to help to help your daughter with her ministry."
Judging from her parents' expression, neither career choice was very acceptable to them. He supposed he had expected as much. Most parents dreamed of their daughters marrying doctors, lawyers, or successful farmers. Gunfighters weren't anywhere near the top of that list.
"Do you frequent saloons?" his father-in-law asked, continuing his interrogation.
Both Kid and Ruth flushed with embarrassment, and Ruth answered this time. "He don't anymore. He's retired from all that business."
That didn't raise him any higher in their estimation. He would just have to somehow prove to them that he would be a good husband to their daughter and do his best to get on friendly terms with them for Ruth's sake.
James directed a question to Ruth. "Is he better at shooting than you?"
Kid couldn't quite get his head wrapped around this question, which his father-in-law noticed. "My little Ruthie can outshoot any man in these here hills," said the glowing papa.
Kid's eyes widened with surprise and delight. That was a little fact she hadn't shared with him. He looked over at her, not able to hide his interest.
She looked very self-conscious and said defensively, "I still think guns can be dangerous in the wrong hands."
"It's pure gold in her hands," continued James. "You send her out to bring you something home to eat, why she'll do it quicker than a wink. It used to drive her brothers' up the wall."
He'd been starting to truly regret this trip, but it was suddenly appealing to him again. What other secrets was this fascinating woman hiding?
"You eat?" Mary asked her daughter. "I just finished making some dumplings."
"Yeah, we did, but I wouldn't mind a little nap in a real bed."
"Of course, honey. You go right ahead. You can have your old room," her mother told her.
Kid started to get up to follow, but James said, "Unfortunately, her bed ain't big enough for two. You'll have to bunk with her younger brother, Clyde."
Kid looked to Ruth, who gave a helpless shrug. He did not come all the way to Virginia, so he could share a bed with Clyde. He sighed. It was going to be a long 3 weeks.