by Vivi Holt
Belle waited by the door, tapping her foot on the hardwood floor. “You’ll get ’customed to it soon enough. Now are you comin’?”
“Yes, just a moment. Do I have everything?” She patted the cloth bag that hung from her arm.
“Soap, towel, washcloth, spare underdrawers. Ain’t complicated.”
“Yes, I have those things.”
“Then you’re set.” Belle turned and headed down the stairs. Pearl followed, pulling the door shut behind her. She smoothed her hair back, her stomach turning over with nerves.
By the time they reached the section of the Santa Cruz River where the other women were bathing, she was coated in sweat and her heart raced. Belle set her things on a rock and began to undress.
“Here?” asked Pearl, glancing around with wide eyes. The river seemed very exposed. She wasn’t sure she could undress in such a wide-open space.
“Yep, here.” Belle quickly stripped down to her undergarments and waded into the water.
Pearl clenched her hands together. She’d bathed using the wash basin in the apartment for weeks now. But when she’d mentioned to Belle that she’d like a real bath, this was her friend’s solution. She wasn’t so sure – any kind of creature might be living in the creek, and who knew what rascals were lurking nearby to spy on the women as they bathed? But the others didn’t seem bothered by such thoughts.
She drew a deep breath, then exhaled. She might as well give it a try. Quickly she undid the buttons of her dress, slipped it off, untied the string that held her petticoats in place and let them fall to the ground. She grimaced – she might be clean after this adventure, but her clothes certainly wouldn’t be.
Once she was down to undergarments, she tiptoed over the stony ground to the water’s edge. A dip of the toe revealed the water was cold, and she gasped.
“It’s nice once you’re in,” called Belle with a laugh.
The other women laughed too and Pearl couldn’t help smiling. One woman splashed another, and they all chatted, some reclining, others wading. They all appeared to be having a good time.
“I’m coming in.” In a rush, she dashed into the water, spraying it everywhere. When she came to a halt, she sank into the knee-deep water, grimacing as it seeped through her undergarments, making her skin goose-pimple.
Belle laughed and sat down in the water beside her. “Nice, isn’t it?”
“Hmmm,” Pearl replied neutrally.
“Well, you’ll get used to it in no time.”
Another woman smiled at Pearl. “Hi, I’m Annabelle.”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, I’m Pearl.”
Annabelle nodded. “And you as well. Aren’t you the woman from New York who’s gonna marry Hilton Pullman?”
Pearl’s cheeks warmed. “Yes, that’s me … but we’re not betrothed anymore.” She noticed the rest of the group were listening in with great interest.
“Really?” asked Annabelle. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you.”
“I tell you one thing, I’d love to get to know his brother better,” chipped in another woman with a grin and a wink. “Hello there, I’m Elvira.”
“Oh yeah, Hank Pullman,” said Annabelle with a laugh. “He’s a handsome one. But they say he’s not the type to court. Least he hasn’t courted anyone since the blacksmith chased him out of town that time on account of his daughter.
“Do tell!” exclaimed Elvira.
Pearl smiled. It was strange to hear people talk about Hank that way. Truthfully, he was handsome – but also frustrating and irritating. She was never sure how he felt about her, or whether he’d decide it was time to head back out on the road. But there was something between them that made her heart pound and her mind go fuzzy. What it was, she couldn’t say yet, but she hoped it would continue.
“Oh, I don’t know much more. Apparently years ago he came to town and there was something going on between him and Chip Winston’s daughter Christy. When Chip found out, he ran him out of town.” Annabelle frowned.
“Hmmm … sounds like there’d have to be more to that story,” murmured Elvira.
“Well, ever since then he hasn’t courted a single woman in Tucson. Least that’s what I’ve heard.” Annabelle examined her fingernails, then swirled them in the slow-moving river.
“Maybe I can be the one to break his drought,” said Elvira with arched eyebrows. They all laughed except Pearl.
“Hey, did you hear about the Red Ghost?” asked Annabelle, seeming excited to be the bearer of news for the group.
Elvira’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “What do you mean – has it been seen again?”
Belle gave Pearl a knowing look, but said nothing.
“Apparently the creature almost overturned the stage again!” Annabelle’s voice dripped with drama and intrigue.
“No!” Elvira gasped.
“Yes indeed. They say it’s ugly as sin, and I heard it eats folks that get in its way.”
“Ugh.” Elvira shivered at Annabelle’s words.
Pearl covered her mouth to hide her smile. But the women’s conversation made her think about the mystery of the Red Ghost. It had been folklore around there for years, and people seemed both enamored and petrified by the very idea of it. Yet no one had actually seen it as closely as she and Belle and lived to tell the tale. And from the driver’s seat of the stagecoach, it had looked like a scared and hurting animal. Though she couldn’t explain the headless rider. She shivered at the memory.
Suddenly Pearl knew what she had to do. She’d track down the Red Ghost once and for all, and find out just what it was and why it carried that ghoulish being on its back. She smiled, cupped water in her hands and splashed it on her face, gasping as the cold hit her cheeks.
* * *
The sun crept across the apartment floor, its rays warming a strip across Hank’s face. He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes, shielding them from its brightness. Why did the sun have to rise so early? It wasn’t decent.
The bang of a door made him jump on his bedroll and he groaned again. “Hilton …”
Hilton’s chipper voice pierced his skull. “Good morning, brother. Isn’t it a fine day?”
Hank pried his eyes open and tried to inflict pain on his brother with only a stare.
“Don’t you want to ask me why? Why it’s such a fine day?”
“No,” Hank moaned and turned over, hoping to fall asleep again.
No luck. He heard Hilton make his way to the kitchen, creating a racket, clinking tin plates and utensils against one another. “What are you doing?” croaked Hank, sitting up slowly.
Hilton’s face broke into a grin.
Hank rubbed his eyes. “All right, why is it such a fine day?”
Hilton jogged over to where he sat, eyes wide. “It’s a fine day, brother, because I asked Millie to marry me. And she said yes! I’m getting married!”
Hank stared without speaking at his brother’s joyous face.
Hilton’s grin began to fade. “Well, I thought you’d be happier for me than that …”
Hank got creakily to his feet. “Congratulations, Hilton, that’s great news. I’m thrilled for you.” He gripped Hilton in a brief embrace and slapped him on the back.
Hilton’s smile returned. “Thank you, Hank.” He hurried back into the kitchen, still grinning like a loon.
“Are you going to tell Pearl?” asked Hank, following him. “Because I can tell her, if you’d rather.”
Hilton held the coffee pot above the two cups he’d set in front of him on the table and frowned. “No – I should tell her myself. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. Even though she broke off our engagement, I think I should let her know before she hears it from someone else.”
Hank sighed. “Good idea. She’s leavin’ for Postvale this mornin’, so you’ll have to hurry if you’re gonna catch her.”
Hilton took a quick swig of coffee and set the cup down. “Thank you, Hank. I’ll go now.” He walked
to the door and pulled his hat from the peg beside it, putting it on as he left.
Hank reached for the slice of bread his brother had buttered and left on a plate, took a large bite and chewed thoughtfully. He’d known all along Hilton had feelings for Millie, but now that they were engaged he felt strange about it. He wasn’t sure why, but butterflies swirled in his gut and his head felt light.
He finished breakfast and cleaned up before dressing for work. He enjoyed the walk to the blacksmith’s these days – it wasn’t far, and he usually saw at least a dozen folks he knew along the way. He’d had to start leaving the apartment a half-hour earlier each morning just to give himself time to gab with folks along the way.
He waved at Antonio Peretti, who was sweeping the sidewalk in front of the mercantile, tipped his hat at Millie wiping fingerprints off the glass window out front, and jogged across the road. As he reached the boardwalk, a team of horses came around the curve in the road, pulling the stage behind them. He tipped his hat to Pearl and Belle on the driver’s seat as the stage rolled by. Pearl waved with her free hand, the other holding the reins with a firm grip.
He smiled. She looked so comfortable up there, so confident, not the green Yankee she’d been when she arrived in Tucson. She was a pioneer woman now – strong, capable and at ease handling a team of horses. His heart sped up at the sight of her and he felt a yearning for her well up from within.
Hank knew in that moment, he didn’t want to live another day without Pearl Stout in his life. He just hoped the new, independent Pearl felt the same about him.
* * *
“You’re doin’ what?” Hank yelped.
“I’m hunting the Red Ghost.” Pearl slung the shotgun over her shoulder. She stood beside Hank’s horse Pax, which he’d agreed to lend her before she’d told him why she wanted it. The animal’s black sides rose and fell gently with each relaxed breath and it turned its regal head around to stare at her in curiosity as she adjusted the stirrups to suit her shorter legs. She donned her new tan Stetson and smiled.
“But … what if …?”
“It’s fine, Hank. I’ve seen this creature thrice and each time I’ve lived to tell the tale. I’ll stay hidden and make sure I see it before it sees me.”
“Well, I’ll be dadblamed if you’re gonna go alone!”
“I don’t need any help. In fact, I think it would be best if I kept a low profile on this one. The more noise, the more likely it is to stay away, or get frightened and cause damage.”
He frowned. She couldn’t help feeling grateful at his concern for her wellbeing. He’d changed so much in the time she’d known him. When they first met, he’d gone to great lengths to demonstrate he didn’t care a jot about anything or anyone. But now he was clearly afraid for her safety and didn’t mind showing it.
She laid her hand on his arm and smiled warmly. “I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll stay hidden and I’ll be fine. I go out on that road with Belle all the time – I know it like the back of my hand. I’ll head for the abandoned cabin we saw that day to see if the creature is still in the area. And I’ll take some carrots and apples with me – maybe that’ll encourage it to come closer.”
He snorted. “Unless it’s a meat-eater.”
“I don’t think it is.”
Hank’s brow furrowed, and he enclosed her hand between his. “Well, I never really saw it well, since that time out at the cabin it was so far in the distance and the sun was in our eyes. What did it look like? Like any kind of animal you’ve seen before, or something else?”
“It’s like nothing I’ve seen before. It was orange and big, bigger than a horse, but it runs like a horse. Its head looks misshapen and it’s got a hunchback. The sound it makes sends shivers down your spine – ugh.” She shook at the memory. “I never got a clear look at it, because every time it’s appeared there’s been something else going on – a storm, or the stage being overturned, or the sun in my eyes, but that’s what I remember.” She chuckled. “I’d really like to see it clearly without all the distractions. And I want to know why it carries a headless rider. It’s so macabre, so bizarre.”
He frowned. “Disturbing. No wonder folks around here figure it’s a ghost.”
“Perhaps it is – I don’t have any experience with ghosts to know any differently.” She smiled. “Thanks for offering to come with me, but I can do this on my own.”
He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again.
As Pearl rode away, a quick glance over her shoulder revealed Hank staring after her, his hands on his hips. She smiled to herself. He really was more tender-hearted than she’d believed possible. And he was beginning to stir her heart in ways she hadn’t expected.
* * *
The cabin lay just off the main road east of Tucson along a dusty, winding track about a half-mile long. It was a quaint building, in need of work, but had a beautiful vista across a plain toward a set of gently rolling hills across the horizon. Squat bushes and cacti dotted the landscape.
Pearl lay on her stomach beneath a bush, the shotgun beside her, slices of carrot and apple set in front of her in a semicircle on the ground. She wiped the sweat from her eyes and marveled over the difference between the weather in New York City and Arizona. She reached for her canteen to take another gulp of warm water. Well, at least here it was a dry heat.
The sun sank toward the horizon and long shadows crept over the earth toward her. The cabin had fallen into darkness behind her, and she could see Pax, tied to the porch rail, his eyes drifting shut, flying open, only to drift closed once more as his head hung closer and closer to the ground. She’d filled the water trough beside the porch when they arrived and he’d drunk his fill, but she knew it would soon be time for them to head home so he could enjoy a bucket of mash.
She’d spent the entire day watching for the Red Ghost, not knowing if it was nearby. From the various incidents and retelling of stories around town, it was apparent the beast had traveled a lot over the years. Really, it could be anywhere in southern Arizona right now. She sighed and shifted in place. Riding home at night wasn’t something she’d planned on doing, but it couldn’t be helped now. Hank would be furious with her, no doubt …
A noise behind her made her turn her head to listen. Pax stirred and snorted. Her heart in her throat, she reached for her shot gun.
The Red Ghost wandered into view, nose close to the ground. She gasped and held her breath. It came closer still, from behind the cabin and around where she lay. It found the first piece of apple and lapped it up. Soon it was munching loudly on the fruit and had ambled closer, aiming for a chunk of carrot. Up close it looked gentle, not ghostly at all.
Pearl sighed. She still wasn’t sure what kind of creature it was, though she vaguely remembered seeing a drawing of something like it when she was younger. She couldn’t recall what the drawing had been titled, though.
The rider on its back bobbed gently with each step the animal took, and she strained her neck to get a better look at it. It was definitely strapped to the creature’s back – leather thongs wove around its sides and looked to be cutting deep welts into its flesh, the poor thing. She lowered her gun and sat up, reaching for a length of rope curled beside her.
As she did, the creature’s head flew up and it snorted – from fear or anger, she couldn’t tell. It spotted her, and the whites of its eyes showed as it charged toward her, then stamped its front hooves on the ground in front of her.
Her heart felt as though it might leap from her chest. She backed deeper into the brush – there was nowhere else to go. She couldn’t get away.
“Ha!” a man yelled behind her. “Hiyah! Go on, get away!”
The creature pawed at the ground again, then turned and ran. It disappeared over a rise, with only the drifting dust in the air to tell where it had gone.
She scrambled out from beneath the bush and turned around. Hank stood there, holding a pistol, a wide grin on his face. “Howdy, Miss Stout.”
She wasn�
��t smiling. “You chased it off!”
He laughed. “Well, it was either that or let the thing trample you. I chose to save your life. You’re welcome.”
“Hank, I told you I could do this myself! I was so close to …”
“Close to what? You didn’t think you were gonna catch that thing, did you? Make it your pet. How exactly were you gonna do that?”
Pearl held up the rope.
Hank guffawed loudly. “Now that’d be a sight to see – Miss Pearl Stout, debutante from New York City, being dragged around in the dust by a camel.”
Pearl frowned. “A camel? Is that what that is?”
“Sure is. An honest-to-goodness dromedary camel, straight from the sands of Araby. Seen ‘em in books before, but never in life.”
Pearl blinked. “I do believe you’re right. I remembered a drawing I saw as a child, but I couldn’t recall its name. Though how on Earth did a camel find its way to southern Arizona? And who’s the poor rider strapped to its back?”
Hank nodded. “Good questions. Another good question – should we spend the night in that rundown cabin or ride back to Tucson?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Hank Pullman, you cad, I’m not spending the night alone with you in a cabin. We’re riding back to town and that’s final.”
He laughed out loud and reached for her with a wink. “Can’t blame a man for tryin’.”
“Oh yes, I can.” She slapped his chest playfully, but he tugged her closer still. Then his lips were on hers and she stood on tiptoe to deepen the kiss. All thoughts of ghosts and camels flew from her head as it spun. Her entire body trembled, and she reached around his waist to explore the curve of his back.
“Pearl Stout, I don’t understand how I survived without knowing you,” Hank moaned in her ear. “But I feel as if I came alive when I met you.”
Pearl melted into his embrace as their lips found one another again and the world faded away around them.
Chapter 10
Pearl sat on the hard pew in the small Baptist chapel and tucked her feet beneath the bench. She smiled to her left and right, making sure to acknowledge everyone. It surprised her just how many people she already knew in Tucson after only a few months. It was beginning to feel like home – something she’d never thought possible when she first arrived.