The Most Unsuitable Wife

by Caroline Clemmons

  Sarah brought a steaming cup of tea from the table and shared a gentle smile. "You're late. We ate lunch but there's still some cornbread and beans if you're hungry."

  Physically, Sarah looked almost her twin. The main difference lay in their nature. Pearl considered herself stubborn and sturdy as a mule. Shy Sarah displayed a spirit gentle as a dove's.

  Pearl shook her head. "Pete Hammonds told me the Wilsons asked for me, so I went over there. They gave me lunch after I dosed their children and stitched up Mr. Wilson's arm. If that cup is for me, though, I'll take it. Mr. Hammonds saved a newspaper for us that a traveler left in his store. It's in the cart.”

  "Oh, that's wonderful. Something new to read.” Sarah stepped forward and offered the cup to her sister. "I heard your cart and made you some chamomile tea."

  "Thank you. What would I do without you?” She sipped at the liquid, letting the honeyed warmth slide down her throat. "How's Belle?”

  "She's asleep now.” The girl darted a glance toward the back bedroom housing their guest. "She still won't say who beat her. A little earlier today she was able to walk to the door and back to the bed.”

  "And the bleeding inside has stopped?” When her sister nodded, she added, "I'll see to her in a few minutes."

  Sarah shook her head. "Walking tired her, so I gave her a dose of the laudanum and some tea. She's just drifted off to sleep. This time she's resting peacefully."

  "That's good. Rest will help her recover faster.” Pearl turned toward the large range against the wall. "You've started dinner. It smells heavenly."

  Sarah gestured to the large cooking pot. "Jim Mitchell brought us two hens to thank you for helping with his son's birthing. He even plucked them for us.” She frowned as she laid an arm across her older sister's shoulder. "You look worried. Was there trouble in town again?"

  "Just the Ainsworths and Jug up to their usual tricks.” Pearl patted her sister's hand before she stepped forward to draw the rocker nearer the warmth of the huge stone hearth. "I don't know how much longer Evan can go on as sheriff. He looked real bad today."

  "I know he only stays because of us. He's been a good friend.” Sarah worried with her apron, twisting it in her fingers.

  "I must have caught a chill.” Pearl sighed as she sank onto her rocking chair, pulling her shawl close before cradling her mug of tea. "Tomorrow I suppose I'll wear those blasted shoes."

  She sat lost in thought for a few moments, her feet toward the fire. "There were two strangers in town who looked like the western men in those papers Evan loans us. It looked as if they were waiting to see Evan.” She let her head fall back against the chair. Oh, no, they must have seen everything. "I guess they were in Evan's office when the Upperlys went to see him.”

  Fear darkened Sarah's lavender eyes. "The Upperlys? You think the Pastor complained about us again?"

  Pearl nodded. "You can be certain of it. Oh, if only I hadn't lost my temper. I fired two shots at Jug's feet.” She closed her eyes a moment as the scene replayed in her mind. "By now Pastor Upperly and his wife are probably riling people up again, trying to get Evan removed from office and you and Storm removed from my evil influence."

  What on earth must those two men think of her? She couldn't say why it mattered, but it did. Her first impulse was to bury her head in her hands and cry. Instead, she gathered all her worries into a ball inside her, hidden from her sister. When her brother entered the room, she leaned her head back against the chair.

  Storm pulled another rocker near hers. "Tell us about the strangers you saw in town.”

  In as much detail as she remembered, she described the men. She tried to recall every detail of their appearance. Why could she see the taller man so much more clearly in her mind?

  "What about their horses? You said they rode into town."

  "Trust you to ask that." She tried to sound reproving, but ruined it when a smile broke across her face. "I hardly remember, except they had big fancy saddles with big stirrups. You know, like the ones Evan described from Texas?”

  When she had answered all his questions, she remembered something more important. "I may have found us a wagon," she said, setting the rocker in motion again.

  "From someone who would sell to us and not tell the pastor or those Higgins?”

  "Maybe. The Pinckneys over the ridge have two wagons and they'll sell one.”

  "Ha. How can we get it? We've got no horses or mules. It'll take most of our savings to buy the wagon and supplies.” Then, as if his cynicism turned hopeful, he asked, "Did they make a fair price?"

  "Yes, it's in line with what we agreed. I haven't quite figured it all out.” She stopped rocking and stood. "You and Sarah won't be forced to live with the Higgins, though. I promise you that."

  Sarah wrung her hands. "Why are people so mean? We're doing fine here as we are, if they would just leave us alone."

  Storm's jaw jutted and his head came up in anger. "They hate us 'cause we're all different.” He addressed Sarah, anger fueling his words and sparking from his dark blue eyes. "They'd like to force you and me to work for Billy Joe Higgins. He'd have me slavin' on his farm and you... well, never you mind his plans for you 'cause it ain't never going to happen. Then they'd run off Pearl and Belle, or worse if Sheriff Evan didn't stop them.”

  Pearl shuddered at the picture her brother painted, knowing it only too accurate. "We know we're family, but I have no legal papers to prove I have any rights to raise you. The good pastor and his crowd don't consider your mothers bringing you here enough."

  Storm's blue eyes turned to ice. "The so-called good pastor wouldn't accept any papers from our mothers either, 'cause he don't approve of either woman. Still, he believes himself equal to the Creator."

  Pearl sighed, wishing she could contradict her brother. "Now that Granny's gone, they're saying I'm unfit to supervise two young people"—she lowered her voice—"especially now that Belle's here."

  Storm snorted in derision. "As if your Granny ever helped. All she did is have you and Sarah slavin' for her all day."

  Pearl watched a familiar look of pain cross his face before he continued.

  "She wouldn't even speak to me 'cause I'm half Cherokee. Called me a heathen."

  Pearl hated the pessimism in Storm's voice, sorrowed for all the experiences that caused him pain and taught him distrust of others. "Hush, now. It's not right to speak ill of the dead.” Even if they deserved it, she added mentally. "You know that you're a wonderful and gifted young man, no matter what any small-minded people might say.”

  Thinking aloud, she added, "If anyone tries to take you two or Belle away, we'll have to get out of here fast."

  The boy looked at the bedroom and shrugged. "How? Belle can't walk anywhere, no further than across the room."

  "I remembered something I read.” She nodded. "If we have to leave before we get a wagon and mules, Belle can ride in the cart. You and I can take turns pushing her. We can all carry food and a few things in packs on our back. I read where some people called Mormons moved halfway across the country that way."

  A lifetime of living in fear of reprisal had sharpened her brother's innate senses. Seconds before Pearl heard hoof beats, Storm's head came up. He moved swiftly to grab the rifle as he rushed to the window and peered through the curtains.

  "Someone's coming. Three men on horses. Hey, it looks like one of them is Sheriff Evan."

  Pearl patted the gun in her pocket then lifted the bar from the door.

  * * *

  Drake watched Evan as they rode. The sheriff looked terrible, probably his heart playing out on him. He wondered what would happen to him and Lex in this crazy place if the sheriff died while in their care. The older man rode slumped in the saddle, barely able to remain seated on his horse. Evan's gray face and blue-tinged lips were as worrisome as his difficulty breathing.

  Lex and Drake flanked the ailing man, ready to catch him if he fell. They had wanted to take him back to town, but Evan insisted they continue. Throu
gh gasping breaths, Evan directed them here for help. Drake only hoped the man would last until they could get him inside and onto a bed.

  The house looked large by local standards. Rather than the thin boards or rough logs Drake expected, the sturdy logs of the dwelling had been hand-hewn to square them. The pitch of a high roof indicated a loft or second floor. It looked as if the traditional dog run had been enclosed to make additional rooms.

  When the door opened, the girl he'd seen in town stepped onto the porch, her hand in her pocket. Remembering the confrontation he'd seen earlier, he thought he knew what else she had in her pocket. He wanted no part of the business end of her pistol, so he called out to her.

  "We've a sick man here, your friend the sheriff.”

  Lex braced the sheriff while Drake dismounted, then Drake slid the older man from his mount. He carried Evan forward while Lex dealt with the horses.

  Pearl stepped backward, concern shadowing her face. "Bring him in. Gently, now, be careful with the man. Right this way." She moved ahead, around her cart, and through to her bedroom at the back of the house. She threw back the covers of the bed with a smooth motion. Drake laid Evan there as gently as possible.

  "Careful now. He's not a sack of potatoes," she chided.

  "Pearl... help... forgot... medicine," gasped the sheriff.

  Drake's eyes met hers across the bed and he explained. "He had an upsetting confrontation in town earlier. Seemed all right after we'd sat and talked a while. We were on our way to the Walker's when he got sick. Forgot to bring his medicine with him. He asked us to bring him here."

  Lex came into the room as Pearl patted the sheriff's hand.

  "It's all right, Evan. I'll get my bag and you'll be feeling better in no time. You'll have to stay here tonight."

  She stepped out of the room and returned with a large satchel. "I started some new thornapple syrup for you and Sarah just strained it up today.”

  From the bag she extracted a blue bottle and uncorked it. She poured the thick liquid into a spoon and fed it to Evan.

  Lovingly, she ran her hand over the man's forehead then checked the pulse at his throat. Without looking up, she said, "You gentlemen step back into the parlor. I'll be there in a bit and fix you some tea."

  Drake's hackles rose at this bossy woman ordering him about. "If he's going to stay here, you'll want help getting his clothes and boots off."

  Without even looking his way, she dismissed him with a wave. "He doesn't need to be jostled any more right now. My brother will help me later.” The men nodded and left the room.

  When Pearl emerged from the bedroom, the two men stood by the fireplace. "He's sleeping now. Thank you for bringing him here. I'm Pearl Parker."

  The tall man stepped forward, hat in his hands. "Drake Kincaid, ma'am. This is my cousin Lex Tremont. Our grandfather is an old friend of the sheriff's.” He pointed toward Belle's room with his hat. "Um, Ma'am, do you think you could tell whoever's in that room to point that rifle somewhere else?"

  She turned toward the room and called softly, "It's all right, Sarah. These are the men I told you I saw in town. They're friends of Evan's."

  The tip of the rifle disappeared, and a pretty young woman peeked her blonde head around the doorframe. After a glance and a shy smile, she retreated into the darkened room and closed the door. Pearl turned back toward them. "Sarah doesn't care much to be around people, especially strangers."

  Lex stepped forward. "Look, ma'am, we were on our way over to the Walker place, Oak something or other. If the sheriff isn't going to need us, can you tell us how to find the place?"

  Pearl frowned. As if enough hadn't already happened today. "Why would you be wantin' to go there?"

  Drake stepped in front of her and challenged, "Does it matter?"

  "We're going to look at horses," Lex volunteered. "Evan said Walker has some good stock to sell."

  A young boy stepped into the room, his rifle cradled in his arms and his finger on the trigger.

  "It's all right.” Pearl stepped to him and placed her arm around his shoulders. "Gentlemen, this is my brother, Storm. This is Mr. Kincaid and Mr. Tremont. They'd like you to show them the way to Oak Haven.”

  To Drake and Lex she added, "Don't say a word to anyone about the sheriff's illness. His safety, as well as that of others, depends on it. I must have your word on this."

  Drake shrugged. "If you wish.” Lot of good that would do. How could the locals not notice their sheriff was near death? "Can we get going now?"

  Her brother said nothing, but walked to the door and opened it. His eyes shone in admiration as he glanced back over his shoulder before he sauntered to the rail. With only a pat and a word to the sheriff's horse, Storm concentrated his attention on the other two mounts.

  "The bay is nice. Ahh, but this black is a beauty.” He ran his hand down the horse's nose and spoke quietly to the large animal. Then, he slid his hand down the black's neck.

  Drake watched, amazed at Midnight's response. The mighty horse trembled, but made no move to harm the boy.

  "Yours?” Storm asked Drake.

  "Yes. You must have a gift with animals. Midnight doesn't like strangers."

  A smile transformed the boy's face. "Neither do my sisters.”

  He moved in front of Midnight and slid under the hitching rail to loosen the reins of the sheriff's horse. "Come on, I'll show you the place you want."

  With an agile leap into the saddle, the boy led them off the road and across the countryside. A path of sorts led through the trees, up ridges and down. He and Lex had to duck tree limbs and dodge brush to keep up with the youngster.

  When they came to a rail fence, Storm stopped and pointed. "Follow this fence west to the house. That is the home of the great Quinton Walkers. You'll like their horses very much."

  "You won't continue with us, then?” Drake wondered why the boy accompanied them only this far.

  He shook his head. "You'll get a better bargain without me. Tell them you heard in town they had horses. Don't mention me or my sisters."

  He started to turn, then stopped and placed a hand on Drake's arm. "Please, sir, it's very important—don't tell anyone the sheriff is ill. Not anyone.” With that, the boy turned the sheriff's horse and rode away.

  Lex watched Storm's retreating figure, then turned to his cousin. "Damned odd. What do you make of that?"

  "Don't know.” Drake shrugged then the two men urged their horses slowly forward. "Seems the lady Pearl doesn't have many friends except for the sheriff, doesn't it?"

  His cousin nodded. "Pearl and her sister are honey-blondes. They look a lot alike, but their brother looks like a half-breed. But he’s got those same unusual color of eyes. And there must be a doxie we didn't see living there as well. Sheriff Cummins said Pearl takes care of her family. Strange family."

  "Yep. Appears that way to me, too. But I guess she takes care of her own just like we do ours.” Drake rode in silence, thinking of the home they just left.

  What an odd woman, that Pearl. Those violet eyes captured his imagination. He sighed and shook his head. The oddity of this village must have put peculiar notions in his head. Yeah, that had to be it. He shook his head, as if he could shake away the curious atmosphere of the place and its effect on him.

  Apparently Lex shared his opinion, because his cousin said, "This is a strange place we've stumbled into just to say hello to an old friend of Grandpa's. I can't put my finger on why, but it kind of makes my skin crawl."

  "I agree. Be glad to see the last of Pipers Hollow."

  At the crest of a small rise, they saw a huge white house. The rail fence bordered the drive, winding its way along a tree-lined paddock. A dozen or more fine looking horses grazed inside the enclosure.

  They stopped a moment to admire the unexpected scene. Drake wondered if the plantation in front of them would vanish into thin air. "Can you believe this is even in the same state as that ramshackle town?"

  His cousin shook his head. "You could f
it the whole town on the front lawn."

  "I'd think a set up like this would have suffered during the war. From here it looks prosperous."

  "It does at that.” Lex turned to him and asked, "You really planning to buy some horses here?"

  "If what Evan said is true. Can you imagine horses in this backwoods place that came from the same lineage as old Sam Houston's horse, Copper Bottom?”

  "Hard to fathom, but stranger things have happened."

  "Reckon I might find me another Copper Bottom or Steel Dust in the lot?” Drake chuckled at the thought of owning a horse even distantly kin to the one owned by the great Sam Houston.

  "But what about the other matter? What about the wife? Time is running out and you haven't even courted a woman yet."

  "Yes, have to do something about that, won't I?” A plan so ridiculous formed in his mind that he had to chuckle to himself. Drake touched his heels to Midnight's side and the horse broke into a smooth stride.

  As they neared the house, the facade of prosperity vanished. Clearly, this home begged for care. Rotted boards at the eaves needed replacing and a corner of the porch sagged. In contrast, the horses they passed looked magnificent.

  At the front door, a wizened old man dressed in threadbare gray livery greeted them. Drake stated their business, but they were allowed to cool their heels in the entryway until the butler returned. They were ushered into a small study as if being granted an audience with a king.

  The dark wood paneling and bookcases all around cast the room in shadow. In the sparse furnishings, a large desk dominated the room. Light from the window behind the desk threw sunlight to burnish the dark blond head of the man seated there.

  When Drake and Lex entered, the man rose to greet them. Tall, likely in his late forties, he smiled and extended his hand.

  "Gentlemen, welcome. I'm Quinton Walker. My man tells me you're here to look at horses. You won't find better bloodlines in the country than right here on Oak Haven, don't you know?”