by Vivi Holt
She seemed anxious, as though there was something she wanted to say but couldn’t bring herself to speak it. She wore a green gown that brought out the deep brown of her eyes, and she’d obviously already washed off the dirt and grime of the road before he arrived. Hank smiled and took off his hat. “Hello, Pearl. Can I come in?”
“Ah, well … I suppose just for a moment. It’s not really proper, you know.” Her eyes widened and she backed away as he stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him. “How can I help you?”
He tipped his head to one side and stepped forward. “I’ve been waitin’ to see you for three whole days. Is that how you greet me?”
She backed further away, her cheeks burning red. “Oh, it’s good to see you too. I just …”
“What’s wrong, Pearl?” He took her hand between his, turned it over and kissed the back of it in one fluid motion. His lips tingled and he longed to pull her close and kiss her hard on the mouth, but she looked so nervous he didn’t have the heart.
She sighed, her shoulders drooping as she let go of the tension. “Nothing. It’s just that … I guess I don’t know what’s going on between us. I thought I couldn’t stand you, that you were a blackguard. And you’re the brother of the man I was to marry. Then you kiss me and tease me and kiss me again, and you make me mad as a rattler, but at the same time you make me feel … warm, safe …”
He chuckled. “So what are you sayin’?”
“I’m saying I’m confused.” She sighed again and let her hands drop to her sides.
“That seems clear enough.”
“So what is going on between us?”
He took her hand again and ran his thumb around her palm. “What’s happenin’ is that I like you. You’re a fine woman, and I’d like to get to know you better. That is, if you want that too.”
She nodded and exhaled slowly, as a smile spread across her face. “I’d like that.”
“Good,” he said. “Would you care to take a walk with me, Miss Pearl Stout?”
She nodded again and he offered her his arm. She took it and reached for her bonnet and reticule as they headed out the door.
Strolling along the street, arm in arm, he hadn’t felt this much peace, satisfaction or warmth in his soul since before his folks died years ago. It wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to, and he thought for a moment it might overwhelm him. He cleared his throat. “How was your first trip drivin’ the stage? Did everythin’ go well?”
She laughed. “It went well as could be expected. Stan was very helpful – he showed Belle and I how to drive the team and where to go once we reached Postvale. We didn’t encounter any trouble. The only people we saw on the road were a few lone riders and one other wagon – a farmer, I believe. When we got to Postvale, we bedded the horses down in the livery and headed to the hotel.”
“How many passengers did you have?”
“Just three. Mr. Gunderson was there – he’d come to Tucson on the same stage as Belle and I and had stayed for a short while. He’s on his way to California, he says. There was an older couple as well, but they kept mostly to themselves. When we got to Postvale, we handed them over to the drivers who are taking them to Phoenix today.”
“Sounds like a good trip overall.” He rested his hand on hers, enjoying the warmth of her skin.
“It was. Apart from some drunken louts at the hotel who tried to put their hands all over me once they discovered I was a woman.” Her face flushed pink.
His eyes flew wide and he froze. “They did what?”
“Never mind. Belle stepped in, and it didn’t take much to knock them to the ground since they were barely standing as it was. I’m really glad I suggested she take the job.”
He swallowed the remarks he wanted to make and instead shook his head. “I’m glad she was there as well.”
She laughed. “Go on, say what you want to say. I can see it’s eating you up.”
“I don’t like it. What if Belle wasn’t there?”
She placed a hand on his arm, her gaze steady. “But she was there, and everything’s fine.”
He frowned and took a long slow breath. “I just don’t want anythin’ to happen to you. Not when I’ve finally found …”
She tipped her head to one side and caressed his cheek. “Found what?”
“You. I finally found you. After all these years alone, you’re the woman I been waiting for. And now I can’t bear to lose you.”
She cupped his cheek with her hand. “I’m sticking around for a long time, don’t worry. But I didn’t think you cared so much …”
Hank leaned forward and kissed her hard, as though it might be their last chance. His eyes squeezed shut, he drank her in, her warmth and the promise of their bright future together flooding his heart with joy.
* * *
Pearl glanced up with a frown as black clouds swirled angrily overhead. She pulled the reins taut with both hands, brought them down on the backs of the team, and four sturdy steeds moved as one in the dull light. She turned up the collar of her coat.
“Storm comin’ in fast,” said Belle, tipping her hat back to look up.
The trio of men seated on the roof of the stage behind them shifted constantly in their seats, grating on Pearl’s nerves. The vehicle was overfull, carrying ten passengers, and she could feel its heaviness with every curve and rise in the road.
“How far to Tucson?” asked one, again.
She took an angry breath. “At least another hour, sir. Just keep steady in your seat, please.”
A crack of thunder gave her a jolt, and she broke out in a cold sweat as she fought to steady the horses. “Whoa there,” she called, tugging on the reins as they jostled, anxious to have their heads so they could run away from the noise. Her heart pounded, and strands of hair pulled free of her bun, whipping around her face and blinding her vision.
Then the rain began to fall, a vicious downpour of fat drops peppering the dusty ground. The horses shook their heads and shied, tugging hard on their bits and making her arms shake with fatigue. The wind carried sticks, tumbleweeds and dust, whipping the travelers wherever skin was exposed. But she kept the stage pounding along the trail, wheels bouncing over rocks and debris.
She tugged her neckerchief up over her mouth and nose and squinted against the onslaught. Perhaps she should halt the stage and wait for the worst to pass. She steered the team between an opening in a line of brush and bushes, pulling hard on the reins to slow their pace.
Just as they passed by the brush, she saw movement on the other side. An orange beast reared up on its hind legs with a loud, alien, guttural roar that it seemed to conjure up from its belly. Its front feet landed back on the ground with a thud as it shook its head.
The passengers behind her, inside and outside, shouted and shrieked. Some must have stood, because the stage began to sway. “Hold steady!” cried Pearl as she fought to keep control.
The beast spun and galloped off through the wall of raindrops that blinded Pearl’s vision. She hadn’t seen it clearly with the wind and rain obscuring her view, but she knew it was the same creature she’d seen before. What were the chances the same animal would appear on the same trail so many weeks later?
Two of the horses reared up on their hind legs, and another shrieked in a wild frightened whinny undampened by the rainfall. The horses lurched forward into a gallop, and the stagecoach flew along the trail, weaving from side to side as it went.
“Whoa!” called Pearl again. “I can’t hold them!”
“Hold on!” yelled Belle over her shoulder to the passengers on the roof, whose perch was becoming more precarious by the moment. Pearl didn’t have time to check on them – she was doing all she could to keep a hold of the reins and steer them in the right direction.
Another crack of thunder split the sky nearby and she could see the whites of the horses’ eyes as they veered left in terror, away from the sound.
“Where are we going?” cried Belle, holding onto the stage wi
th one hand and her hat with the other.
“I don’t know! But let’s hope they stop soon!” Pearl clenched her teeth, her heart hammering in her chest. Her fingers were cramping in place, tightly curled around the leather straps that joined her to the team.
“There’s a gorge up ahead,” screamed Belle in her ear. “Pull them up!”
“I’m trying!” Pearl’s face contorted as she stood with one foot on the brake and both hands straining on the reins. She was breathing hard and felt blisters forming on her hands, but gradually the horses began to slow.
“I’ll help!” Belle took hold of the reins with Pearl, and between the two of them they pulled the team up just before the lip of the cliff.
The rain had slowed by now, but rivulets of water still traced lines down Pearl’s face. She exhaled and took another deep breath. One glance at Belle revealed she felt the same relief. Behind them, the passengers exclaimed over their near-miss and the ones seated on the roof reached forward to pat Pearl and Belle on the back. Belle chuckled, her eyes sparkling. Soon Pearl was laughing too, and the two of them dissolved into hysterics where they sat. One of the horses snorted and another stamped a hoof in the mud, as if joining in.
Pearl sighed, turned the team around and set them back on course for home. They’d averted disaster – the first real crisis she’d faced since she started the job – and she was proud of herself and Belle for the way they’d handled it. For the first time, she felt as though perhaps this occupation wasn’t too much for her – and that she couldn’t just be capable of it, but good at it. Her arms and legs ached with the effort of reining in the runaway team, but the horses seemed to have calmed down after their fright and trotted obediently back toward the trail to Tucson.
She couldn’t help wondering about the animal she’d seen. It was the Red Ghost, she was sure of that. But this time she’d gotten a better look at it, and it seemed to be just as frightened of them as they were of it. The headless rider was still seated on the animal’s deformed back, ghoulish and macabre. And she’d seen straps holding it in place that looked like they were cutting into the creature’s flesh.
With pursed lips, she pondered the folklore and the reality. She’d heard all the rumors of things the Red Ghost had done, who it had frightened and even killed. But she’d seen an animal, not a ghost – a frightened, hurting animal. She wanted to know more, find out what kind of creature it was. “Did you see that beast?” she asked Belle as the rain continued to patter against their hat brims.
“Yep.”
“The same animal that overturned our stage, don’t you think?”
Belle nodded. “Oh yeah. That’s the Red Ghost, all right.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen a creature quite like it. It looks as though someone kept it captive once – it had straps wrapped around its sides, holding that … rider in place.”
Belle shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Ugh. I don’t know what it is neither. The stories say it and its rider are dead, and they hauntin’ us livin’ folks for some reason.”
Pearl shook her head. “That was no ghost – that was a real living creature. And I intend to find out just what kind it is. It’s time to put an end to the legend of the Red Ghost – before someone else gets hurt.”
Chapter 9
Hank sauntered toward the Hillside Express. He’d waited for hours outside Pearl’s apartment for her to get home after her latest trip to Postvale, but she hadn’t shown. He knew it was pathetic of him to sit around, pining over a woman that way, but he couldn’t help himself.
As the minutes ticked by his anxiety only increased. What if something happened to her? A brief thunderstorm had passed through town a few hours earlier, which could’ve caused some issues for the stage. He’d seen wagon wheels get stuck in muddy ruts often enough. And now that darkness had fallen, he hated to think of her stranded out there with Belle and a bunch of strangers.
As he passed the Santa Fe Saloon, he heard the tinny sound of red-headed Missy playing the pianola, butchering “Why don’t the men propose, Mama?” His gaze fell on two figures seated at the bar – one tall and muscular, one short and petite – and stopped, his brow furrowed. No …
When he walked inside, his pulse accelerated and his head swam. What was she doing here? He never thought she’d set foot in a place like this, yet there she was, happy as you please, drinking at the bar. “Pearl?” he asked, leaning on the bar beside her.
She looked up at him with a smile. “Haaaaank! Good ta see ya. Siddown, have a drink wiv us.”
He sat on the stool beside her, greeted Belle over Pearl’s shoulder, then focused on her flushed face. “What are you doing here, Pearl? I didn’t think you were the kind of woman to drink in a saloon.”
She laughed out loud, a raucous, drunken laugh that made his frown deepen. “Oh, haven’t ya heard? I’ve come down in the world. Nothin’ beneath me anymore – I’m on the bottom rung. There’s nowhere lower to go from here.” She hiccupped and covered her mouth with wide eyes. “Oops. Sorry.”
“Believe me, you ain’t hit rock bottom yet, darling. Now come home with me, won’t you?” He stood and offered her his hand.
She shook her head and slapped the bar with one hand. “Nossir. Nossir, nossir. I got paid today and I’m here to relaaaaaaax.” She managed an affected pout. “And you said you’d have a drink with us too.”
He took a slow breath. “No, I didn’t. What happened? Why are you acting this way?”
“We nearly drove off a cliff!” cried Belle with a shriek of laughter. “But we made it. We aliiiiive. And we celebratin’!”
Hank’s gut roiled at the thought of what might have become of Pearl. ‘What? How did that happen?”
“That stinkin’ accursed Red Ghost again,” said Pearl.
His eyes widened. “Oh?”
“Yep, the Red Ghost, my old ne-me-sis.” She swayed on the stool.
Hank felt a spark of anger stir. “I knew that job was too dangerous for you. I wish you’d quit it.”
Her grin faded and her eyes snapped. “Oh, do ya? Well, guess what, cowboy? I’m. Not. Quitting! And you’re one to talk ‘bout danger – I heard what happened down at the blacksmith’s.” She pointed an accusing if wavering finger at him. “You got into a gunfight. And you didn’t even tell me ‘bout it! I had to hear from Mr. Goodman. Seems to me your job’s as dangerous as mine, or more so.” She stood, tried to stamp her foot for emphasis, but only managed to land herself back on her stool.
He pursed his lips. She was right, he should have told her about that. But he hadn’t wanted to upset her. Truth be told, he wasn’t used to having someone care enough about him to want to know what was going on in his life, so he wasn’t accustomed to sharing. He rubbed his chin. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about that.”
Her face softened and she slumped on the stool with a sigh. “S’okay, Hank. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just … my whole life, people have tried to control me. How I dressed, spoke, acted, ate. I never got to do anything I wanted to. But here –” She waved her arm around, forcing Belle to duck. “– here I feel free. Like I’m in charge of my life. I can do what I wanna. So I’m tryin’ some things. I wonder, what would that be like? And then I find out. And no one can tell me not to.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
He nodded. “I guess I can understand that.”
“Course ya can – you’ve lived that way for years. But for me, it’s all brand new. And I’ll make a few mistakes, but those mistakes are my choice.”
He sighed and reached for her hand, holding it gently between his own. “I don’t want to control you.”
“Thank you, Hank, I know.” Her voice softened. “You just care ‘bout me. Least I think you do. But I can’t for the life of me figure out …” She stood, swayed. “I think I’m gonna head on home. Belle, you done?”
Belle downed the last of her whiskey and nodded. “I’m headin’ out too. But I think I might need some help �
��”
Pearl, though she was as unsteady as Belle, took her arm. “I’ll help you.”
“I’ll help you both!” Hank said hastily, rushing to their side. He got them out the door, steered Belle to her lodgings near the theater, where her brother Pip offered profuse thanks, then took Pearl back to her apartment. He almost had to carry her upstairs – the girl clearly wasn’t used to liquor – but eventually he got her inside, where she flopped onto the couch and was snoring within a minute.
Hank shook his head as he left, thinking about what she’d said. He hadn’t realized how she might react to his concern. All he was trying to do was protect her, but perhaps he shouldn’t. Not if she didn’t want him to.
He walked back to the Santa Fe, figuring he could use a drink himself. He ordered a mug of beer, strode over to the pianola and tapped Missy on the shoulder. “Hey, mind if I play awhile?”
She paused mid-song and stood with a smile. “Sure thing, cowboy.”
Hank grinned, sat down on the bench and settled his fingers over the keys. He began with Chopin. Playing always brought peace to his mind when he was feeling troubled. Ma had taught him to play when he was a young boy, and he played whenever he could, at every stop along the way. He smiled and let his fingers trip across the notes as the music washed over him. It soothed his soul as his eyes drifted closed.
The men and women drinking and playing cards around the saloon all paused to stare at him with arched eyebrows and mouths ajar.
* * *
Pearl draped a towel over her arm and glanced once more around the apartment. Did she have everything she needed? “I’ve never bathed outdoors before. Father always made sure the maids filled the bathtub upstairs for us with steaming hot water. I can’t quite comprehend the idea of washing out in the open.” She shook her head, her thoughts scattering.