Molly Noble Bull (5 page)

Another norther must have blown in while she was recuperating in the bedroom upstairs, and she wasn’t dressed warmly enough. She longed for her old woolen cape, but she’d left that back at the cabin with Lucas. Still, she was determined to leave now.

Honor stepped into the wind, head lowered. The ends of her long hair flew below the print bonnet. Draping her shawl over her bonnet and around her shoulders, she continued up the road on shaky legs. Since she never reached her destination, Jeth had said that Honor’s ticket was being held until she could pick it up. All Honor knew was she’d never been to Hearten before and had no idea where to find the ticket office.

Wagon tracks went to the right. She turned to the left as droplets of frozen rain hit her cheeks. Honor took a dozen steps, then slipped and fell. Quivering from the dampness and cold, she tried to rise and slipped again. Her head began to spin. The next moment, a blanket of darkness shrouded her.

Lucas rode toward Pine Falls, in search of Honor. He’d found a little food in the root cellar on the farm and had wrapped it in a potato sack to bring along. He was taking a route that avoided Falling Rock—too many debts waited
for him there. His plan was to make a stop in Hearten, pick up a couple of bottles of whiskey, and move on.

There were no saloons in Hearten. The whole countryside was dry, though he’d heard of several ranchers who brewed spirits on the side. Maybe he could find one of them.

His mind seemed clearer now, and he’d been thinking about the minister from Hearten, who had been at the cemetery. The preacher had reminded him of somebody. Try as he might, Lucas couldn’t think who.

When he was a child, his mother had read to him from the Good Book. Since the preacher carried a Bible, maybe that was what stirred his recollections. All he knew for certain was that seeing the reverend had caused him to recall events he would rather not remember.

His mare, Lady, moved into a soft trot. A frosty breeze whipped Lucas’s ears. He pulled up the collar of his brown jacket. He had never thought he would miss Harriet. But he did. With a jolt, he realized he missed his mama and his childhood home, as well.

Lucas had ridden a horse named Old Smokey to school every day when he was a boy. He could almost see his mama standing at the kitchen door, waving goodbye to him and his big sisters as they sat astride the big gelding. Back then, Lucas was known as Lawrence Smith, but it had been years since anybody had called him by his real name.

His mama had wanted him to become a Christian and get a good education, but he’d fulfilled neither of those
goals. Maybe he would have if he’d stayed at home instead of running away when he was barely fifteen.

Both his parents had been churchgoers, but his father was a hypocrite. Every time Pappy got drunk, he’d beat Lucas severely. Mama never said a word about the old man’s drinking, but she scolded Lucas when she found him behind the barn one day, sipping spirits with his friends.

As soon as he was big enough, Lucas had joined a cattle drive. He’d admired the strength he’d seen in his first trail boss, Adam Scythe. He wanted to be just like him. Before signing with the outfit for the next drive, he’d changed his name to Lucas Scythe. Like Lucas’s father, the trail boss had been a hard drinker, and Lucas had thought drinking would make him a man. In the end, he had become more of a drunk than Pappy.

Mama would have been disappointed if she’d known how her only son turned out. That was why Lucas never went back to Cold Springs for a visit. No point in making Mama feel worse by showing her what her son had become. Lucas swallowed an ache in his throat. Word had reached him that his parents died years ago, but he’d never checked out the rumor.

Patches of ground were visible under the melting snow. From a distance, the earth had a reddish color—like Honor’s hair.

Missy. At the thought of her, Lucas’s face hardened. When he found that girl, he’d teach her a lesson. She deserved a few knocks for taking his money and heading out of town. Then he would marry her. Why, she was young
enough to have babies. He’d always wanted a family, but Harriet couldn’t have children.

Lucas slowed Lady, then pulled her to a stop. He wanted to think. Miss Ruby Jones lived on the far side of Falling Rock. If he looped around, he could ride out to her farm without being seen. Maybe he would pay her a visit before riding on to Hearten.

He never saw Ruby much after Harriet got sick and not at all toward the end, but Lucas intended to visit her now. Would she agree to see him? After all this time, she could have found someone new. He looked forward to being with her again, especially since Ruby always kept plenty of whiskey in the cabinet in her parlor, but if she turned him away, so be it.

When Honor opened her eyes, Jeth Peters was sitting in a chair near her bed, watching her.

“So, you’re awake.” He smiled.

Remembering her fall in the snow, she glanced under the covers and saw that Mrs. Peters must have removed her wet clothes and helped her into a flannel nightgown. Relieved and grateful, Honor pulled the quilt around her neck again.

“Now,” Jeth said. “Would you mind telling me what you were doing walking around in a freezing rain without so much as a coat on?”

“First, sir, you tell me why you left one of your sermons in my room.” She motioned toward the papers on the table. “Did you think I needed to be preached to or something?”

“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.”

J
eth 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.

“Looking for something?” Ruby’s voice came from behind him.

He whirled back around. “The whiskey. I was looking for the whiskey.”

“I—I don’t happen to have any down here right now.”

“Don’t have none? Why not?”

“I told you. I’ll explain after a while.”

“Well, you’re sure taking your sweet time about it, ain’t ya?”

Ruby wore a white apron edged with ruffles over her green dress. A dark green ribbon tied back her long brown hair. At hardly more than a hundred pounds, she looked like a doll herself. Except for a few wrinkles around her chocolate-colored eyes, she appeared almost as young as Honor. Regardless, she was a long way from nineteen. Lucas intended to keep that in mind when selecting a mother for his future child.

“So if you would like to go upstairs now and take a bath,” Ruby said, “you’ll find cloths for washing and drying next to the washtub.” She handed him the kettle. “I’ll have supper ready by the time you finish, and then we can talk.”

Ruby was up to something. He’d seen that look before. Still, a hot bath appealed to him. And who knows? Maybe I’ll find me some whiskey up there, he speculated.

Lucas took the stairs to the guest bedroom. Like the downstairs rooms, everything had been changed since his last visit. Sheer, yellow curtains replaced the blues ones he’d seen on the windows before, and a lacy, white bedspread covered the double bed. A tub for bathing stood in
the middle of a circular rag rug. The bucket of cold water waited near the rug. Lucas put the kettle next to it.

His feet hurt from walking his horse a mile or so back, and he wanted to sit down and take off his boots. The only chair looked as fancy as the bedspread. Seated on the edge of the bed, he pulled off his boots, and Harriet’s warning filled his mind.

Don’t empty your boots on the floor,
she’d always said.

Old, naggin’ women are all alike, he told himself. That’s why I’m gettin’ me a young one—like Honor.

Lucas poured dirt from his boots onto the floor until nothing more came out. Then he let them drop.
Thump. Thump.

Now where would Ruby have put the whiskey? She must have a bottle or two hidden somewhere.

A chest of drawers stood against the north wall. He pulled out the top drawer and threw out what was inside, tossing everything on the floor.

When he didn’t find any bottles, Lucas jerked out the second drawer and repeated the process. Then the third drawer and, finally, the fourth.

Heat warmed his face. His muscles tensed and anger welled inside him. Now he
really
needed a drink.

Crouching down, Lucas looked under the bed. Nothing. His jaw tightened as he got to his feet again. He snatched the covers and threw them on the floor.

“Where’s that whiskey?” Lucas bumped his toe on the iron bedpost. “Ouch!”

Hopping on one leg, he reached down, grabbed his toe and held it. He’d thought his feet hurt before, but nothing compared to what he felt now.

A yellow trunk, decorated with painted flowers and vines, stood at the foot of the bed. He threw back the lid and removed dresses, petticoats and delicate undergarments. Near the bottom, his hand touched a hard object under a frilly, pink nightgown. He pushed the gown to one side. A dark-colored flask, flat on both sides, caught his attention.

He grabbed it and unscrewed the top. The smell of whiskey filled the room. Lucas lifted the flask to his lips and swallowed. The golden liquid burned its way into his stomach. He sighed deeply and took another gulp.

“Lunch is almost ready,” Ruby called from downstairs.

“Be there in a minute,” he shouted back.

Lucas dropped his dirty clothes on the rag rug. First, he poured cold, then hot water into the wooden tub. At last, he climbed into the warm water, carrying the flask with him.

Ten minutes later, Lucas, in tan trousers and a fresh blue shirt, came downstairs. He felt better after bathing and putting on clean clothes. Just not as good as he would feel after he had a few more drinks.

The dinner table was covered with a blue linen cloth. Ruby set out her best white china. Lucas sat down and reached for the platter of fried chicken.

“Not yet, Lucas.”

“Why not?”

“We haven’t said the blessing.”

“Blessing? When did you start that?”

“A few weeks ago. I go to church every Sunday. You should, too. I was baptized.”

“Baptized? You?”

She nodded. “I’m a saved Christian now.”

He wondered if she still drank, but didn’t ask.

Ruby folded her hands like she was about to pray. When Lucas didn’t fold his, she sent him a scolding glance—like his mother used to do when he was a child.

Lucas groaned and folded his hands.

“Thank you, Lucas,” she said.

After Ruby said grace, she handed him the chicken.

“What am I getting to drink?” he asked.

“Did I forget to give you your tea?” Casually, she pointed to the steaming cup by his plate. “Oh, there it is.” Her smile held a hint of amusement. “Drink up while it’s hot.”

“Tea ain’t what I want, and you know it.”

“Sorry. It’s all I have on hand. Now, will you please pass the mashed potatoes?”

After lunch, they moved into the kitchen for apple pie and coffee. Lucas enjoyed her desserts, but he would like some alcohol better.

Did Ruby intend to pour him a shot of whiskey or not?

“Have you finished your pie yet?” she asked.

He took the last bite and swallowed. “I have now.” He wiped his mouth with a blue-and-white checkered napkin.

Ruby got up and stood by her chair. “I would like to go out and see your mare before we have our talk.” She pulled a carrot from a bowl on the kitchen table and held it up for him to see. “This is for Lady. I remember how she likes carrots.”

She gathered several other things and placed them in a wicker basket. None was a bottle with liquid in it. So he didn’t pay much attention.

“Shall we go?” she asked.

“I reckon. The sooner we go, the sooner we’ll get back and I can have that drink.”

They went out into the sunshine, and Ruby rushed over to his mare. The basket swayed back and forth on her arm as she fed Lady the carrot.

“Hello, girl,” Ruby said. “How are you doing?” She turned and smiled up at Lucas. “Horses have such soft noses, don’t they?”

“I ain’t never thought much about it.”

It was a lie. He
had
thought about it. But he’d always considered it unmanly to let anyone know how he felt.

His saddle, blanket and other equipment had been dropped together under a pine tree. Ruby picked up one of his saddlebags. Then she pulled a small book from her basket and slipped it in the bag.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“I got this Bible from the preacher at my church in town. The inscription inside said it belonged to Harriet. She must have left it at the church. I thought Honor might like to have it now.” She stuffed a small wooden box in with the Bible.

Lucas reached for the bag, taking it out of her hand. “What else are you puttin’ in there?” He peered inside.

“That string of pearls you gave me last Christmas. I know you stole it from Harriet, and I think the pearls should go to Honor now.”

For all Lucas cared, she could take the book and necklace and throw them in the creek. Then he had a second thought. Were the items worth something? Could
he sell them? Lucas always needed money.

Ruby moved over to his gray mare again and patted the animal’s swollen belly. “Don’t you just love babies?”

“I like colts. They make me money.”

“Always money.” She turned and smiled at him again. “What about human babies? Wouldn’t you like to have one?”