“We let him know you were still resting at home, but feeling much better,” her grandmother had added gently. “Dr. Davis told him just this morning that he was healed enough to leave the infirmary.”
“Imagine that, Margaret! Hale and hearty again and straight off to church. A pity you weren’t able to attend service with us, lassie. The man looked quite disappointed you weren’t there.”
Disappointed? Pearl swallowed hard and focused upon the sewing in her lap as another woman entered the shop.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Whitman,” her grandmother cheerily greeted the woman. “Come for your dress?”
As the two women talked, Pearl found her thoughts flying once more to Daniel—always Daniel!
Even now her cheeks grew warm as she recalled her immense relief to hear that he’d been released from the infirmary, but she refused to believe for a moment that he might have felt her absence at church.
She had only to think back to their last conversation when he had talked to her more like a doctor to a patient to know that must now be his sole interest in her.
Pearl, you should be at home resting!
Sit down, Pearl, you need to take care not to overdo!
The worst, though, was when he’d spoken so quietly about honesty and sincerity and then told her of his own dishonesty and insincerity!
She’d been nothing more to him than a means of escape—oh, how could she have been so naïve?
For so fleeting a time she had imagined something stirring between them, but truly, how could that be? Since the tornado, she had never felt sorry for herself, but she felt that way now. Why shouldn’t she? She was broken, not whole at all, so how could any man ever fall in love with her?
Tears stung her eyes, but Pearl blinked them away as her grandmother shut the door behind her latest customer.
“Pearl, I’m going to straighten up in the back room. Would you call me if anyone comes in?”
She nodded, forcing a smile though she felt as if her heart were breaking.
Why had that young woman named Mariah appeared by her side at the height of the storm and assured her that everything was going to be all right? She couldn’t have been a guardian angel, for then she would have lied! Everything wasn’t all right and never would be—never!
Pearl dropped her sewing and hung her head, never having felt so hopeless.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and she did nothing to stop them.
She heard her grandmother moving around in the back and humming a lilting tune…except Pearl had never known her to hum.
A sweet, soothing sound that strangely seemed to ease her despair as she lifted her head to find another customer had entered the shop.
A tiny older woman wearing the most curious brown dress and a matching bonnet atop her silvery hair, and who hummed the same tune Pearl thought was coming from the back room. Quickly, she wiped the tears from her face.
“Ma’am, may I help you?” She glanced at the door, but she hadn’t heard it open or close.
She didn’t hear her grandmother any longer, either. Only the soft humming as the woman looked at her with such kindness in her blue eyes that Pearl thought she might start crying again, it touched her so.
“You’ve had a busy day, child?”
Pearl nodded, wondering how the woman spoke to her though she still heard the humming.
“Christmas is such a blessed time of year. A time for joy and peace, Pearl, not of sadness.”
“How do you know my name?” she murmured, surprised. “Have we met before?”
“No, but I’ve heard all about you. You’ve suffered greatly, but you mustn’t lose hope, child. Never lose hope. ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.’ Are you familiar with that verse from Proverbs?”
Pearl nodded, marveling that she felt so comforted by the woman’s lilting voice when she’d been weeping only moments before. “It’s my favorite, that one and the next. ‘In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.’”
“Yes, I love those verses, too. Life will never be without its trials, Pearl, but you’re not alone. Never alone. Pray for understanding. Pray for hope. Pray for those who feel broken just as you do and take heart. Things are not always as they seem.”
Pearl could only stare at the older woman as an aura of light seemed to surround her, but she wasn’t afraid, no, not at all. She felt the same peace as when she’d lain on the floor of the seamstress shop with the tornado raging around her—
“Ah, there’s Mariah now. I was wondering if she might join me.”
Pearl followed her gaze to the younger woman standing just outside the door…the same one who had knelt beside her when she feared she was dying.
Hair the color of gold. A pale blue dress. A smile so kind that once again Pearl felt tears blur her eyes, not sadness at all, but a sense of being forgiven for ever thinking she might have lied to her.
“Mariah hasn’t been a guardian angel for very long, so she asked me to speak to you,” the tiny woman said as the light seemed to grow brighter around her. “I think she would have done just fine to ease your despair…but sometimes we all need a helping hand.”
“Guardian angel?” Pearl breathed as realization flooded her. “Anita told me about you! You’re Tante Kari—”
“Pearl, did I hear someone come in the door?”
She gasped as her grandmother bustled into the room to set more boxes tied with string upon the counter.
“Pearl, why are you gaping at me? I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone. Who was it?”
Who was it? Pearl glanced at the empty space where Tante Kari had stood only seconds before, and then to the front door, but Mariah was gone, too.
Dear Lord in heaven, had she dreamed what had just happened? No, no, it had felt as real as the look of concern her grandmother now gave her.
“Are you feeling well? Oh, dear, I’ve kept you too busy this week with all the final fittings and customers coming and going—”
“I’m fine, Grandma, truly,” Pearl murmured, not knowing what else to say as she spied with overwhelming relief two young ladies about to enter the shop.
Not just any young ladies, either, but Ingrid and Anita, just seeing them making Pearl grab her cane so she could rise from her chair.
“Oh, Pearl, here, let me help you!”
No sooner inside the door, Ingrid rushed to her side to assist her to her feet while Anita fluttered in a whoosh of burgundy velvet and petticoat behind her.
“Pearl, aren’t you thrilled about the Christmas ball? I’m so excited I might burst before Saturday night!”
At once Pearl thought of Daniel, and that perhaps Anita’s eagerness might be attributed to him just like so many others, but then Pearl forced away the notion.
For goodness sakes, she had just been visited by two guardian angels who’d come to cheer her, which made her smile in warm welcome at her friends.
“Your dresses are ready. You’re both going to look so lovely—”
“But what of you, Pearl?” Anita persisted. “Show us your dress, will you?”
Pearl glanced at her grandmother, Margaret answering for her.
“She’s not going to the ball, though I’ve tried my best to persuade her otherwise.”
“Not going?” blurted Anita, looking astonished.
“Not going?” repeated Ingrid, appearing equally stunned.
Pearl shook her head, though her reasons for avoiding the festivities seemed so shallow and petty now. If Daniel chose Anita or another young lady to be by his side, she would be happy for them and wish them well. How could it be otherwise after the miracle of what had just happened to her?
“I’d feel out of place,” she said honestly, though from the determined jutting of Anita’s chin, her lovely friend had no intention of accepting her excuse. “You know it’s not possible for me to dance—”
“Perhaps not, but you’ll grace us with your presence and look like the beautifu
l Irish princess that you are, Pearl McMaster! Won’t she, Ingrid?”
As Ingrid nodded, Pearl noticed that her grandmother had disappeared into the back room, but then quickly reappeared with another oblong box.
“Pearl’s dress for the festivities. Would you like to see it?”
A squeal of delight erupted from Anita as both she and Ingrid rushed over to the counter. Pearl drew closer, too, and watched, astonished, as her grandmother set aside the lid and pulled out the most exquisite gown she had ever seen…ruby red satin shimmering with tiny, gold embroidered flowers.
“Grandma…when?”
“As soon as I received your letter in June that you might be coming to Walker Creek. A final stitch here and tuck there and the dress will fit you perfectly. Only the loveliest dress will do for my beloved granddaughter to attend the Christmas ball.”
Grateful tears filled Pearl’s eyes as Anita and Ingrid’s oohs and aahs filled the shop, all of them so focused upon admiring the dress that they didn’t hear the front door open.
“Ladies. Mrs. McMaster.”
Pearl spun around so fast that she would have lost her balance if Anita hadn’t grabbed her arm. She stared dumbstruck at Daniel…but he didn’t look at all like the man she’d last seen at the infirmary.
Gone were the working man’s rough clothing and thick dark beard, the clean shaven and well-dressed gentleman standing just inside the door appearing almost a stranger to her. Nothing looked the same except the warmth in his deep brown eyes as he stepped further into the shop, his gaze focused upon her.
“Pearl.”
A blush fired her cheeks, a swarm of butterflies suddenly whirling in her stomach as she sought to find her voice.
“D-Daniel.” If she’d thought him handsome before, now she was certain from his chiseled features and square jaw that she’d never seen a man so…beautiful.
“Forgive me for the interruption, but I was passing by and wondered if your invitation still stood.”
“Invitation?” Pearl echoed almost stupidly, still so astonished to see him standing there that she couldn’t think straight, let alone speak.
“Yes, to supper. Your grandparents—”
“Of course our invitation still stands!” blurted Margaret behind her, her grandmother’s gentle nudge at her back making Pearl bob her head.
“Yes, do come for supper.”
He nodded, Pearl certain she saw a flash of relief in his gaze as his broad shoulders seemed to relax.
“Wonderful. Thank you. Tonight, then—I mean, if tonight is not too soon—”
“Tonight?” Pearl blurted, the butterflies now fluttering like mad.
“Oh, yes, tonight!” interjected Anita, who appeared to be entranced by the entire exchange as she glanced from Daniel to Pearl’s grandmother. “Friday will be so busy, of course, everyone getting ready for the ball, and next week is so far away. Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. McMaster?”
“You’re entirely right, Anita, thank you. Tonight is fine, Dr. Grant. Six o’clock?”
Again he nodded, a smile splitting his face that took Pearl’s breath away. Then he was gone before she could say another word, the door closing behind him as Anita squeezed her arm.
“Oh, Pearl, I hope someday a gentleman looks at me like he looked at you! Isn’t it romantic, Ingrid?”
Pearl had no idea what Ingrid might have replied, her heart pounding so hard that she didn’t hear anything else.
It was true. Daniel hadn’t looked at her like a patient at all. Was it possible he had been disappointed not to see her at church, just as her grandfather had said?
Here she hadn’t taken a moment to pray as Tante Kari had told her to do, yet she felt hope flaring inside her. She didn’t know if men felt butterflies or not, but was it possible that Daniel might have felt something to see her again, too?
“Anita, I must speak with you,” Pearl whispered, drawing her friend away from the counter where Ingrid and her grandmother had gone back to admiring Pearl’s dress. “I believe your Tante Kari appeared in the shop a short while ago, all dressed in brown from her bonnet to her shoes, and Mariah stood just outside the door.”
“Yes, that’s her, but do you mean the young woman who helped you during the tornado?”
Pearl nodded, which made Anita’s eyes widen in awe.
“Two guardian angels…oh, Pearl, remember when I told you that Tante Kari helped to bring Kari and Seth together and then Ingrid and Joshua? Maybe she and Mariah are helping you, too! Daniel came by right after, didn’t he? How could it be otherwise? You deserve happiness as much as anyone—oh my, only two hours until he joins you for supper!”
Pearl followed Anita’s gaze to her grandmother’s ornate clock that read four o’clock, her heart skipping a beat.
Two hours!
Chapter 8
“A delicious Irish stew, Mrs. McMaster,” Daniel said as he rested his fork on his empty plate. “I’ve tasted none better.”
“Well, you’ll have to thank Michael for that.” Margaret smiled at her husband seated on her right. “I’ve been so busy at the shop that he’s been cooking our meals and keeping up the house, though he doesn’t seem to mind now that he’s retired from the railroad.”
“I don’t mind at all, my love,” Michael said as he leaned over to give her a peck on the cheek. “We can’t have the ladies of Walker Creek go without their ruffles and bows to the Christmas ball. Isn’t that right, lassie?”
Daniel glanced at Pearl seated on his left, but she gave only the slightest nod as she seemed to focus upon her half-eaten plate of stew. His heart sank that she’d been so quiet during the meal; in fact, she had said little to him other than polite niceties since he’d arrived promptly at six o’clock.
He knew the reason why, too, and it was his own blasted fault.
He didn’t blame her for feeling hurt after what he’d admitted to her at the infirmary. The memory of her stricken look upon hearing that he’d wanted her to come back to the jail so she could help him escape still cut him to the quick.
He’d simply wanted to be honest and clean the slate between them, but instead his ill-timed confession had wounded her deeply, her beautiful green eyes filling with tears—heaven help him!
If she remained disinclined to speak to him, how was he ever to make amends? How would she ever know that his decision to remain in Walker Creek to practice medicine again had more to do with her than anything else?
“Pearl, would you accompany Dr. Grant to the drawing room while we clear the table?”
Jarred from his thoughts, Daniel saw a look pass between his hosts that indicated they had noticed her silence, too, and perhaps how he had been staring so dejectedly at Pearl. He cleared his throat with some embarrassment.
“Please, you must call me Daniel…and I’d be happy to help with the dishes.”
“Nonsense, go on the two of you,” Margaret said briskly with another glance at her husband. “We’ll join you when we’re finished. Pearl, our guest is waiting.”
“Yes, Grandma, of course.”
Daniel rose at once and offered Pearl his hand, her fingers trembling as she accepted his help and stood carefully. Still she seemed reluctant to meet his eyes, which daunted him momentarily, until he told himself the sooner he apologized to her, the better.
“The drawing room is just down the hall,” she murmured, letting go of his hand to lead the way.
Following her, Daniel caught the delicate scent of tea roses, the rustle of her forest green dress a soft undertone to the dull thudding of her peg leg and cane upon the carpeted floor. She walked with such dignity and poise that he felt even more deeply drawn to her, and he prayed that she would forgive him.
He didn’t just care about Pearl, but had fallen in love with her. He’d known it the moment she’d left him so abruptly in the infirmary—and he’d tried to go after her until he had doubled over in pain.
His days spent resting in bed had been torture not seeing her, wondering about her,
worrying about her. He hadn’t missed the paleness of her cheeks and the shadows under her eyes. On Sunday when she hadn’t attended church, it had been all he could do to restrain himself from going to her home to check on her no matter her grandparents had said she was feeling better.
He’d guessed then that she must be avoiding him. He had waited a few more days on the chance he might see her somewhere in town and afford him a chance to speak with her, only to be disappointed.
Finally, this afternoon he had taken matters into his own hands and gone to her grandmother’s shop, his relief so immense when Pearl had agreed for him to come to supper. Perhaps all was not lost…
“You must forgive my grandfather for telling so many stories about his days on the railroad,” she said softly as she turned to face him in the comfortable drawing room. “It left you so little chance to speak yourself and tell us how you’ve been. Are you truly well, Daniel?”
He nodded, as astonished that she had at last spoken more than a few words to him as how lovely she appeared in the lamplight, taking his breath away. Such remorse filled him that he could have ever done anything to hurt her that he took a step toward her.
He saw at once her eyes widen in surprise and she took a step backward, faltering, her hand flying out to catch the back of a chair.
Except he caught her hand instead to steady her, making her gasp though she didn’t try to pull away from him.
“Pearl, I…” Now he faltered, so much on his mind and heart to share with her that he didn’t know where to start. Somehow he steadied himself, too, and laced his fingers with hers as he felt in that moment that he never wanted to let her go. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. It was wrong of me to want you to help me escape from the jailhouse, and I knew it, but I was so desperate—”
“Of course you were desperate after how terribly you’d been treated. I would have asked the same thing if I’d been locked in a cell and someone offered to help me.”
Her hand trembled again, though still she didn’t try to move away from him. Instead she looked at him with such sincerity shining in her eyes that once again, he felt his breath still.
Pearl: Sweet Western Historical Romance (Walker Creek Brides Book 4) Page 6