Molly Noble Bull

by The Winter Pearl

  Honor swallowed. “I just want to join this church.”

  “I see.” He released her hands, looking slightly disappointed. “Well, why do you want to join?”

  “Because I want to learn more about God.”

  “Very well.” Jeth nodded. “I’ll introduce you to the congregation, then.”

  Honor was never able to remember anything else that was said inside the church that evening. It all vanished in a swirl of embarrassment and a sense of failure. She hadn’t said what Jeth had wanted to hear.

  Though she still didn’t fully understand what the word salvation meant, she should have requested it, then joined the church. That was the pattern in this congregation, and it was what Jeth wanted. It was probably what she wanted. But it was too late.

  Walking to the buggy after the service, she was still in a daze. She remained distracted when Mrs. Peters stopped to introduce her to a stocky, middle-aged woman.

  “This is Mrs. Belinda Grant,” Jeth’s mother said.

  Honor saw dark salt-and-pepper hair, but she noticed little else, until she heard Mrs. Grant’s giggle. It caught Honor’s attention and made her almost want to giggle back.

  Mrs. Peters gestured toward the jolly woman. “Mrs. Grant is a widow, who will be moving into the boardinghouse tomorrow, Miss McCall, to serve as your chaperone.”

  Honor glanced at Regina Peters in surprise. “My what?”

  “Your chaperone. Remember, I told you we needed one. It wouldn’t do for a single woman to live at the boardinghouse unchaperoned. I’ll be leaving for Pine Falls now.”

  Slowly, Lucas opened his eyes and glanced around. He’d done it again—passed out on the floor.

  The odors in the room of rotting fruit and dirty clothes, gagged him. He coughed, then held his nose to block the smells. Lucas staggered to his feet, then braced himself against the wall. He opened the window and poked out his head.

  An icy breeze diminished slightly the nasty odors coming from in the room and chilled Lucas to his bones. Shivering, he breathed deeply in and out. The fresh air revived him a little.

  When he felt strong enough, he gathered the spoiled food and other garbage and threw the entire mess out the window. He would need to wash his dirty clothes if he expected the room to become livable.

  Gazing out the window again, he tried to ignore the smelly rubbish and trash on the street below. But he couldn’t overlook the hunger calling from his belly. He was unable to remember the last time he had had a real meal and he supposed that he should eat before reporting for work at the saloon.

  The sky had turned to gold, and the sun sparkled above the mountains, indicating early morning. But hadn’t he arrived from church around noon?

  Lucas shook his head. He must have slept all day and all night, missing work—again. Mr. Skipworth would not be pleased. In fact, unless Lucas came up with a good excuse for not showing his face at the saloon, he would be fired.

  Lucas dressed and prepared for work. On his way out, he grabbed the borrowed suit and tie. As he tossed them over his arm, the Bible fell to the floor. He kicked it out of the way and raced outside. Downstairs, on the street in front of the store, he turned and went into a little shop for food. He bought a small loaf of bread and two sausages. Then he hurried down the street. As he moved along, he ate his meal and planned the lies he was going to tell his boss.

  The saloon wasn’t open in the morning, but sometimes Mr. Skipworth left the door unlocked. If it was open now, Lucas could sneak in and do a few chores before his boss arrived. The effort might be enough to enable him to keep his job.

  His brain seemed hazy and off course. Still, he should come up with another plan in case this one didn’t work.

  Lucas could say he had to bury his other sister, Clara. Or perhaps a brother or an uncle might work better this time. For all Mr. Skipworth knew, he could have several brothers and uncles, five sisters or more.

  His “my sister just died” excuse had worked once. Why not again?

  Lucas went down the narrow alley behind the saloon. Cans and boxes heaped with garbage lined both sides. The sickening odor was strong.

  He reached for the doorknob and jiggled it a little before giving it a turn. The door opened and he went right in.

  The dishes must have been washed and put away before closing time the previous night, meaning he couldn’t do his job now. Still, clean glasses had to be put on the bar out front before the saloon opened for business. He would do that.

  Lucas tossed the borrowed suit and tie on a barrel, got a big wooden tray from the cupboard near the hand pump and began putting glasses on it. The tray could easily hold twelve glasses, but Shorty, another man who worked at the saloon, had said to never put more than ten on at one time. Well, Shorty wasn’t here. Lucas placed two more on the tray. This would save him an extra trip to the front.

  He lifted the tray. It seemed heavier than he had expected. How could two extra glasses make such a difference? He set the tray on a table by the stove.

  Lucas removed one of the glasses, poured a shot of whiskey into it and gulped it down. The drink did him so much good that he decided to have another, and another. At last he sat down on the cold floor, leaned against the cupboard and drank directly from the bottle.

  Some time later, the sound of people talking alerted him that he wasn’t alone. He straightened up and looked around. Little sunlight entered the darkened room’s one window, but anyone who came in would see him sitting there.

  “I’ll get the oil for the lamps,” he heard Shorty say.

  Footsteps sounded on the wooden floor, and they were getting louder. Lucas got to his feet and kicked the partly filled bottle under the cupboard. Gold liquid spilled out and sloshed on the floor. The odor of whiskey would be impossible to miss.

  Shorty came into the room.

  “What are you doing here?” he whispered.

  “I’d asked ya the same question,” Lucas said. “You never come in this early.”

  “I’m helping the boss with a few things. And keep your voice down, will ya? He might hear.” Shorty sent Lucas a look of disgust. “You smell like whiskey. Why are you here?”

  “I—I came in early to help out.”

  “Came in early? You’ve got a lot of gall showing your face here at all, Scythe, after not coming in for work.”

  “My, my sister died and—” Lucas struggled to form his lie.

  “Your sister died the last time,” Shorty scoffed. “You better dream up a better story.”

  “It was my other sister. And what’s so terrible about missing one night of work?”

  “One night? Are you crazy? Today’s Tuesday. You haven’t showed up here since Friday.”

  “It was my other sister what died. The funeral was yesterday.”

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out the back door and never come back. I don’t think you’ll want to know what the boss might do if he finds you here.”

  “But he owes me money,” Lucas whined.

  “Unless you’re wearing padded trousers, I would leave before he kicks you out,” Shorty advised.

  “Shorty!” Mr. Skipworth called from the bar area of the saloon. “Hurry up with the oil and get in here. I need help.”

  “I’ll be right there, boss!” Shorty glared at Lucas. “This is your last chance, Scythe. If I don’t go out right now, he’ll be back here to find out why. And I won’t be responsible for what might happen next.”

  “But what about the money and—?” Lucas pointed to the wrinkled suit and tie, draped over the beer barrel. “And I need to return his clothes.”

  “Leave ’em and go.” Shorty moved to the door. Opening it, he held the door wide for Lucas. “Don’t even think about the money. From the looks of that suit, you owe him some.”

  Lucas staggered to the door and went out. When he turned around, Shorty slammed the door shut.

  Lucas squinted at the morning sun. Only a few clouds overhead broke up a blue sky. He walked back do
wn the alley, trying to formulate a plan as he went. If he sold the pearls, he might have enough to live on for a while, but sooner or later, he would have to find another job if he expected to continue living in Pine Falls and searching for Honor.

  He turned right and went on. At the corner of the street, tables and chairs had been placed outside, in front of a small café. People in coats and hats sat drinking coffee and talking. Lucas thought it was much too cold to be at an outdoor restaurant, but apparently, the folks sitting there didn’t agree.

  His gaze fell on a pretty young woman with dark hair seated alone at a table. She reminded him of his sister, Clara, but of course it couldn’t be her. Strange, he’d just been talking about Clara. The table next to hers was vacant. He took it. Lucas could use a cup of coffee.

  The young woman turned and eyed him carefully. He knew he’d been peering at her and decided to apologize.

  “Forgive me for staring, ma’am,” he began, “but you remind me of my sister. I ain’t seen her in a long time, and she’d be a lot older than you are by now.”

  She nodded and looked down at her coffee.

  “You wouldn’t happen to know anybody who might be interested in buying a pearl necklace, would ya?”

  She glanced his way again. “I might. Have you got one to sell?”

  “I sure do. And the pearls are real, too. Genuine. I also have a nice Bible for sale. Would you like to see it?”

  “Yes.” She leaned toward him as if she expected him to hand the items to her.

  “Well, I ain’t got them with me right now,” Lucas said. “But if you’ll tell me where you live, I’ll come by later and show you what I got.”

  She shook her head. “That’s impossible. But if you would like to bring them here to our café, I work every afternoon between two and five.”

  Lucas glanced at the red door of the restaurant. “You mean you own this café?”

  “My husband and I do.” She rose from her chair. “If you will excuse me, I must go inside now and see how things are going. I would like to see the pearls and the Bible, though, if you decide to bring them by.”

  “I’ll try to be here this afternoon.”

  As she walked inside, he realized she was expecting a baby.

  Lucas didn’t wait for coffee, but hurried back to his room to get the pearls. They were in a wooden box, tucked under a shirt in the chest of drawers.

  He raced inside and pulled out the drawer. He’d forgotten that since he’d last opened it, he’d removed his last clean shirt. The box was there, but it was open—and the pearls were gone!

  On Wednesday after an early lunch, Honor helped Jeth harness his horses to the buggy and load his mother’s bags in the back. Mrs. Peters would be catching the noon stage for Pine Falls.

  Jeth’s mother settled into the seat up front with her son. She wore a new, navy wool traveling-dress, one that Miss Lucy Jordan had made, and a store-bought blue hat with a veil. Honor thought the woman looked lovely and smelled as sweet as roses.

  “You look so nice in your new dress, ma’am,” Honor said, “so stylish, too.”

  Jeth’s mother cocked her head. “Do you really think so?”

  “Oh, yes, I do.”

  Mrs. Peters smiled her thanks, then turned to her son. “We should go now, Jethro. I wouldn’t want to arrive too late and miss the stagecoach.”

  Honor glanced at Jeth. He wore a new suit, dark brown with a matching vest. He’d said he needed a new suit to preach in, but Honor hadn’t known he’d already bought one.

  Mrs. Belinda Grant sat with Honor in the back seat of the carriage. They had removed their white aprons for the trip to the depot, but they still wore their ordinary work clothes under their coats.

  Dr. Harris was waiting for them at the depot—all slicked up in what also looked like new clothes. He wore a brown suit, tan boots and a tan hat. Looking more like a cowboy than a doctor, he was checking his pocket watch when the buggy stopped.

  Jeth was tying the reins when the doctor rushed up and lifted Regina Peters from the buggy. He let her down slowly, looking into her eyes the entire time. Then the doctor kissed her on the forehead before setting her on her feet.

  “You’re gonna write me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Honor heard him ask.

  “Every day, my love,” Mrs. Peters said.

  “I’m going to miss you,” the doctor said.

  “I’ll miss you, too.”

  Hand in hand, they walked to the stagecoach.

  Honor glanced at Jeth. He didn’t appear to be as touched by their sweet goodbye as she’d been. Maybe he wasn’t affected at all. Then she noticed his tight jawline, and thought he looked downright aggravated. Did romantic overtures make him uncomfortable? Honor watched him hustle around to the back of the wagon, where he got his mother’s carpetbags and carried them toward the stagecoach.

  Dr. Harris turned and met him halfway. “Let me help you with those.”

  “That’s all right, Doctor. I’ve got ’em,” Jeth said curtly.

  When his mother was loaded on the stagecoach and the carriage was on its way toward Pine Falls, Jeth shook the doctor’s hand. “Glad you came,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

  Honor knew Jeth liked and respected Dr. Harris. She couldn’t understand why he suddenly seemed so resentful toward the man his mother loved and planned to marry.

  Jeth had told her that he’d never known his father. Was that the reason he was acting so coolly now? Could it be that he felt left out? Lonesome? Betrayed? His mother had someone now, but he no longer had anyone.

  After almost a week of warm, sunny days, cold weather returned to Hearten. Honor stood in front of the kitchen window, washing the lunch dishes in a metal tub, wondering if it was going to snow again.

  The warm, soapy water made her skin itch. Mrs. Belinda Grant thought Honor suffered from too much lye soap and had suggested that she stop washing dishes. But with all she had to do, that was impossible. Mrs. Peters had been gone for days and wasn’t expected back until shortly before Christmas.

  Honor worried that Lucas could arrive at the boardinghouse at any time and without warning. Hearten was only half a day’s ride from Falling Rock. Lucas would look for her here if she didn’t move on soon, but she’d pledged to stay until Mrs. Peters returned. She intended to keep her promise. As she rinsed a plate in a bucket of clear water, it floated slowly to the bottom, just as her hopes of leaving town before Lucas found her seemed to sink.

  Since Mrs. Belinda Grant had moved into the boardinghouse to serve as Honor’s chaperone and helper, Honor had found that she liked the widow very much. Still, she wished the woman wasn’t such a matchmaker and chatterbox.

  Mrs. Grant was constantly saying things such as, “The reverend has sure taken a shine to you, hasn’t he, Miss McCall?”

  Honor disregarded the woman’s words. She was fond of Jeth, all right. If things were different, maybe he was a man she could love. But anyone with eyes could see that Jeth was interested in Lucy Jordan. Understanding this gave Honor an even greater reason for wanting to leave.

  Honor finished the dishes, put them away and wiped her hands on her white apron. Jeth was repairing a board fence out back and hadn’t come inside for his noon meal. She’d prepared a lunch for him and now she would have to take it out to him. It seemed odd, eating outdoors in the cold when he had a warm kitchen available to him, but she pulled on her coat and the brown, wool bonnet she’d made. Folding up a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, she covered Jeth’s tray of food with it, and walked out the back door.

  A gray horse was penned near the red barn. Elmer’s mare. Normally, Elmer rode out on his mount right after breakfast and didn’t return to the boardinghouse until after dark. But Elmer hadn’t gone to work today. He had a fever and a cough, and Mrs. Belinda Grant was caring for him.

  Seeing the animal up close for the first time, she set the tray on a wooden barrel in a clean corner of the fenced area and walked ov
er for a better look. The mare turned away when Honor started toward her. The animal’s belly was round and full. Honor predicted the mare would soon have a colt.

  Kicking up her hind legs, the horse trotted to the far side of the pen. Honor stepped around for a better view of the animal and read the mare’s brand.

  L. S. Lucas Scythe? It was her uncle’s brand. Her throat tightened. Elmer’s horse had once belonged to Lucas, just as she’d thought.

  A taste of fear rose in her throat as she kept looking at the mare that Lucas had called Lady. She took a deep breath. How had Elmer gotten the mare? Gaping at the horse, memories of Lucas riding the animal filled her mind, and all her old terrors returned like a flood. Honor gazed back at the boardinghouse. She’d tried to put Lucas out of her mind, but no matter what she did or how brave she pretended to be, her uncle was always just a thought or a bad dream away.

  Honor wanted to go to Elmer’s room without delay, to find out how and where he’d gotten the mare, to see if he could tell her something about Lucas.

  She glanced at the tray on the barrel. First, she would need to take Jeth’s lunch to him. Then she would go to Elmer’s room and find out what he knew.

  Beyond the wooden gate, Jeth was repairing fences in the pasture. The ground looked hard and unyielding, still half frozen from the recent snow, as Honor unfastened the hook and opened the gate. Jeth, working in the far corner of the property, turned, waved and started toward her. Honor waved in return and carried the lunch tray to a level spot under a big oak tree. She spread out the checkered cloth on the cold ground and began unpacking the food.

  “Well, hello,” Jeth panted, towering over her, his face shining with perspiration. “Is that fried chicken I smell?”

  She nodded. “Your mother told me you like it. But I can’t understand why you like picnics on a cold day like this.”

  Jeth grinned. “Cold air makes me feel like working. If I went inside to eat, I might get lazy and decide not to come back out. I could convince myself to take the rest of the day off.” He gestured toward one corner of the tablecloth. “Won’t you join me? Looks like there’ll be plenty.”