The Winter Pearl

“I didn’t know I left my sermon in here. I’ve been looking everywhere for it.” He reached for the stack of papers. “I came in once to check on you earlier and I must have left my sermon notes then.” His forehead creased. “And, Miss McCall, will you please stay put for a while? I’d like to rest up for a few days before I have to rescue you again.”

Chapter Five

Jeth sat in the chair beside Honor’s bed, entertaining her with amusing stories about Timmy, a mischievous little boy in his congregation.

Honor was chuckling softly, when a tall gentleman with white hair and wearing spectacles suddenly appeared in the doorway. The little black bag he carried identified him as a doctor.

Jeth stood and crossed the room. “Dr. Harris. Thank you so much for stopping by, sir.”

The men shook hands, then Jeth smiled and gestured toward Honor. “Miss Honor McCall, I would like to present Dr. Alvin Harris. He’s the one who examined you after the robbery and bandaged your head.”

Honor nodded. “I’m glad to meet you, Doctor. Thank you for all your help yesterday—or whenever the robbery took place.”

“I’m glad to meet you, too, Miss McCall. And the stage robbery was yesterday. Though somehow it seems longer ago than that, doesn’t it? How are you feeling?”

“Much better than when I first woke up, thank you.”

“I hope you’ll get better and better, young lady.”

Jeth stood beside Dr. Harris. Honor thought he’d looked uncomfortable from the instant the doctor had come into the room. Nervous and slightly flustered, like a guilty child.

Jeth motioned toward the chair. “Please, Doctor, won’t you sit down. I should go downstairs anyway and tell Mama you’re here.”

“I know he’s here.” Mrs. Peters stood in the doorway. “But do go down and wait for us in the parlor, Jethro. I know Dr. Harris will want to give you a report on Miss McCall’s health as soon as he’s had time to examine her.”

“Yes.” Jeth walked to the door. “That’s just what I’ll do.”

The snow had vanished. Though a cool wind whistled down from the mountains, the day was clear and sunny. But even if it had been cold and icy, the valley would have reminded Lucas of springtime as he rode into the pasture in front of Ruby Jones’s farmhouse. Everything about her had that effect on him.

How many times had Ruby insisted there was something almost magical about her farm? Especially her house, with its white shutters and all the fancy gingerbread trim around the eaves. In the next breath, she would talk about how unhappy she was. How tired of being “the other woman” in Lucas’s life. Her moods moved back and forth faster than a lady’s fan on a hot summer night.

He had stopped seeing Ruby after it became clear that Harriet was dying, and she’d said she understood. But did she still care? Or had she found someone new? With Ruby, it was hard to tell what she was thinking, and they hadn’t been together in almost two months.

He never knew whether Ruby was going to kiss him or hit him over the head with a frying pan. Raising his collar against the chill, Lucas wondered what she would be like this time.

“Reckon I’ll find out soon enough,” he thought.

A white picket fence circled what Lucas called her dollhouse. Since he was here the last time, she’d painted her home butter yellow. A man would go insane in an over-decorated house like hers. Lucas unsaddled Lady, tied her to a tall pine out front, and gave her some water from the nearby well.

As he started up the stepping stones leading to Ruby’s front porch, the door flew open. Ruby burst out onto the porch, arms outstretched, and waited for him. Her laughter, like music, floated toward him. Ruby had never lost her sense of grace or her ability to pull in the sun with one of her smiles.

“Oh, Lucas. I’m so glad you stopped by. I haven’t seen you in ages and ages.”

Since he didn’t see a frying pan in her hand, he moved forward.

Ruby had been a dance-hall girl until she’d inherited the farm from a great-aunt. Though almost forty, she looked younger. Dressed younger, too. Ruby was one of those women who refused to grow old—always trying to turn fall into early springtime. She almost got away with it.

She probably expected Lucas to marry her now that Harriet was gone. They’d been keeping company for almost ten years. But marriage to Ruby wasn’t in his plans.

Yet already, the sweet scent of her floral perfume drew him closer and closer. Around her, he always felt like a hooked trout on a short line.

Ruby’s smile evaporated, and she sent him a sorrowful look. “I regretted hearing about Harriet’s death. You have my deepest sympathy, Lucas.”

“Thank you.”

Just as suddenly, her grin reappeared. “But, as they say, life must go on.” She grabbed his hand. Pulling him forward, she opened the door. “Hurry now. We have a lot to talk about.”

“I need a drink first.”

“Later.”

Lucas stopped as soon as he walked into the house, and then he coughed. An overpowering odor of perfume choked him. The air reeked. His eyes watered. He wished for a handkerchief.

The parlor had been rearranged since the last time he had seen it. New yellow chintz curtains hung on all the windows. Orange and yellow paper flowers in white vases were everywhere. He took a moment to absorb it all.

“Like it?” she asked.

“Maybe. Now, about that drink—”

“Please, Lucas.” She squeezed his hand. “Tell me what you really think. It’s important.”

Breaking free of her grasp, he surveyed the rest of the room. “Where’s that there chair I always sit in?”

“Over there.” She pointed to an overstuffed chair near the fireplace.

“It used to be blue.”

“Now it’s yellow.”

“I can see that.” He looked around again. “Where’s the cabinet that you keep the liquor in?”

“I’ve rearranged a little. I’ll explain more in a minute. We should discuss a few things first.”

Here it comes, he thought.

“Would you like to sit down?” she asked.

He looked down at his dusty clothes, then at the yellow chair. “I ain’t sitting in no chair like that. I might get it all dirty.”

“Maybe you’d be more comfortable if you washed up before supper. The kettle has enough hot water left to warm the tub, and the clothes you left last time you were here are clean and ready for you to put on.”

“I reckon I’d be more comfortable if you gave me a drink.” He looked around again. “Now, where did you say that cabinet was? I don’t mind helping myself, if you’ll point the way.”

“I said I’d explain later. I’m going to get the kettle. There’s already a big bucket of cold water upstairs. Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

She floated from the room on the balls of slender feet like the dancer she’d always been.

Lucas moved across the room to the china closet and opened it. He saw only white dishes.