Molly Noble Bull (6 page)

“I never gave it much thought,” he said, knowing it was another lie. “Harriet couldn’t have no children.”

“I can. At least, I hope I can.”

Lucas tensed. “Are you—are you in the family way, Ruby?”

“Not yet. But I’d like to be.” She moved toward him and put her arms around his neck. “Will you marry me, Lucas?” She beamed up at him. “You always said you would. Someday. And someday is here. Please, Lucas, say yes.”

“You know better than to pen me in, Ruby. I’ve been penned up for too long as it is.” He took hold of her arms and removed them from around his neck. “I don’t want to get married.”

To you,
he thought.

“Don’t say that!” Ruby covered her mouth with the palms of her hands. “Not now!”

Lucas tensed. “The only thing I want is a good shot of whiskey.”

“But you promised…”

“I don’t want you, Ruby. You can’t have no babies. If you could, you would have had a couple by now.”

Her eyes widened. “How can you say such a cruel thing?”

“’Cause it’s true.”

Her mouth turned down at the edges. The softness he’d seen in her face a few minutes earlier vanished. Slowly, her jaw tightened. She looked hard, yet strong…and beautiful.

Anger boiled inside him, threatening to bubble up. His face and neck heated quicker than a kettle on a hot stove. Didn’t Ruby know enough to back away while she had the chance?

“What makes you so sure I’m the one who can’t have children?” she taunted. “Did you ever wonder if maybe it’s you, Lucas? Maybe if Harriet and I had been with a
real
man, we could have had all the babies we wanted.”

He stiffened. His hands became fists.

Ruby screamed. “Don’t!” She got down on her knees. “Please, Lucas! Don’t hit me.”

He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. After what she had said, she deserved it. And yet…

His chest heaving with suppressed rage, Lucas turned toward his mare. The muscles in his face were as stiff as iron. Slowly, he saddled his horse.

When he’d mounted, he looked down. Ruby rocked back and forth on the ground, crying.

“Goodbye, Ruby. And thank you kindly for a mighty fine meal.” He pulled out the flask and held it up for her to see. “Thanks for the whiskey, too.”

Lucas took a swig from the flask. Then he turned his mare toward Hearten and rode away.

He would sell the items that had belonged to Harriet. Honor didn’t deserve them after what she did. Besides, he
needed money. Otherwise, he might need to find a temporary job before going all the way to Pine Falls.

Jeth didn’t feel like sitting in the parlor on one of his mother’s ornate, store-bought chairs while he waited to hear what Dr. Harris had to say about Honor. Pacing back and forth in the entry hall in front of the double doors, he paused only long enough to check his pocket watch.

He thought of Honor’s letter—the one he had discovered on the desk near the door. What if he hadn’t noticed it in time? She could have died—frozen to death in the icy rain.

Miss McCall could still be seriously hurt and might need weeks to recuperate. Yet she’d written him a thank-you letter before wandering off in the cold. She must be one of those modern girls he’d been reading about in the newspaper.

The reporter had written, “These young ladies will feel more comfortable in the twentieth century when it finally arrives than they ever felt in the nineteenth.”

Jeth headed for the kitchen. He respected Honor’s independent spirit, but to his way of thinking, her judgment was misguided.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, sat down at the table and looked around. Where was the doctor? Jeth drummed the fingers of one hand on the table. The man should have finished examining Honor long ago.

At the sound of creaking from the stairway, Jeth glanced toward the door, put down his cup and started to rise from his chair.

“No, don’t get up,” his mother said from the doorway. “We can entertain the doctor in here as well as the parlor.”

Dr. Harris stood behind his mother, his hands on her shoulders. Jeth liked the picture they made. At over six feet, the doctor barely fit under the lintel of the door and he looked even taller next to his mama.

Jeth had always thought the doctor was sweet on his widowed mother. But so far, Dr. Harris hadn’t declared himself.

Mrs. Peters gestured toward the chair across from Jeth’s. “Sit down, Alvin, and I’ll get the coffee.”

Dr. Harris settled into the chair and leaned back, folding his hands over his chest. Jeth wondered what the doctor must have thought when he found him alone in a room with a young, unmarried woman. He should have been standing in the doorway instead of seated in a chair by her bed. Now he wanted a report on Honor’s health, but the doctor looked tired.

“Alvin was up all night with Mr. Sloan’s mother,” Mrs. Peters explained. “The dear woman isn’t doing too well. So we need to keep praying, Jethro, and have patience. Wait on the Lord.”

Jeth nodded, drumming his fingers again. “Yes, we certainly do.”

The doctor’s eyes were closed and he was snoring softly. It was amazing that he could fall asleep so quickly, and it would be a shame to wake him, but Jeth needed to hear how Honor was doing and didn’t know how much longer he could sit and wait.

Jeth cleared his throat.

The doctor jerked forward. His eyes popped open.

Mrs. Peters placed a steaming cup of coffee before the doctor. “Here ya go, Alvin.” She poured fresh coffee into Jeth’s cup and returned to the stove.

Steam from both cups curled up and disappeared into the air. The doctor reached for his cup and took a swallow of the hot liquid. He made a sighing noise of contentment.

“Well, Doctor,” Jeth prompted, “what can you tell us about Miss McCall? Is she going to be all right?”

“She’s still dizzy and sick to her stomach. The pain in her head bothers her, too.” The doctor took another mouthful of coffee and swallowed. “Though she’s improving nicely, I’ve told her to stay in bed for at least a week. She didn’t like hearing that, and I can’t blame her. It’s no fun, staying in all the time with nothing much to do but look out the window. I’m counting on you and your mother to keep her from being bored. Can you find the time to do that, son?”

Jeth had a few more humorous anecdotes involving Timmy and the other children from his congregation that he could relate. He hoped they would amuse Honor.

“Yes, sir,” Jeth said. “I think I can.”

“I know you can,” Dr. Harris replied approvingly. “A young man like you can do anything he sets his mind to do.” The doctor looked over at Jeth’s mother and smiled. “Isn’t that right, Regina?”

“I believe so,” she said.

Dr. Harris turned back to Jeth. “Your mama and I might have some news to tell you.” He winked, then nodded toward Regina Peters. “Come on over here, woman, and let’s get this job over with.”

Jeth saw his mother’s cheeks turn a rosy pink as she came to the doctor’s side. Dr. Harris pulled a chair next to his own and draped his arm across the back. “Sit right here, Regina, where I can keep you close.”

She ducked her head shyly, then sat down and blushed some more.

Jeth’s grin grew and he felt excitement at what he thought would be good news. “Are you two getting married?”

“You betcha,” the doctor said.

“When?”

“Right after the first of the year.”

Jeth rose from his chair. “Congratulations.” He went around the table and hugged them both. “I couldn’t be happier.” He gave his mother an extra squeeze. “But why wait?”

The doctor grinned at Regina. “Your mama said she has some things she has to do first. Promises to keep.” Dr. Harris turned his smile on Jeth. “And we want you to perform the ceremony. Will you, son?”

Jeth nodded. “I would be honored. Welcome to the family, Doctor.”

“Welcome to my family, son.” The doctor patted Jeth on the back. “I guess you’ll really be my son soon, won’t you.”

“Yes, sir. I guess I will.”

Jeth was glad his mother had found love again after all these years, and he’d always liked Dr. Harris. But he couldn’t help wondering what would become of the boardinghouse after his mother married.

Should he start looking for a new place to live?

L
ate-afternoon shadows darkened the cream-colored walls of Honor’s bedroom. She barely noticed. Turning on her side to examine Jeth’s face, she struggled to keep the heavy, brown and rose-colored patchwork quilt over her shoulders. The wood-burning stove wasn’t lit, but she felt warm and safe under the covers.

Again, Jeth sat in the chair by her bed. His dark, curly hair looked thick and shiny. Lights flickered in his blue eyes.

Honor owed Jeth and his mother a huge debt of gratitude for finding her on the road when they did. However, she still hoped to leave as soon as possible. Next time she wouldn’t write a letter revealing her plans. Nor did she intend to give any information about her past.

Jeth leaned forward as if he had something important to say. “Are you all right, Miss McCall?”

He placed his hand on her forehead as he’d done before, and she felt his rough fingers.

“You don’t have a fever, ma’am. I sure am glad.”

She thought he looked a little flustered as he removed his hand. Had touching her face embarrassed him?

“Mama said you haven’t been sleeping well—that before you really came to yourself, you tossed and turned a lot. Once she heard you scream like you’d just had a bad dream. As a pastor, I would like to help, if I can. Is something bothering you?”

“Nothing’s bothering me,” she lied. “But what happened on the stagecoach was frightening. The dreams are probably the result of that, don’t you think?”

“That’s possible, of course.”

He cocked his head, and she wondered if he truly believed her explanations. Or did he know her for the thief and liar she actually was?

“Would you like me to send a message to your uncle so he’ll know what happened to you?” he asked. “I think it might help.”

“My uncle?” Honor stiffened. “No! Don’t write him!”

She thought his steady gaze had a skeptical edge to it, and she immediately regretted her response. It had been too emotional, too strong. She should have spoken more calmly, given logical answers. Forcing a smile, Honor tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

“I would rather you not tell my uncle about the stage robbery or where I am,” she said softly, at last.

“Why not?”

She quickly searched her mind for an answer, a lie. “We quarreled and shouldn’t see each other for a while.”

“Very well.” Jeth frowned. “But you should know that I disagree with you. I think you should contact your uncle
as soon as possible.” A skeptical expression remained on his face. “Nevertheless, I will honor your wishes.”

Her problems with her uncle went far beyond a mere quarrel. Still, it would be too embarrassing if churchgoing people like Jeth and his mother knew the real reasons she never wanted to see Lucas again. Not only would it hurt to admit that Lucas was an evil man, but also Honor didn’t want the Peters to know about her sins.

“Do you have any other relatives who I might contact?” Jeth placed his elbow on the arm of his chair and propped his chin in his hand. “Like a mother and a father?”

“My parents were missionaries living in Mexico when they died of a fever. I was too young to remember them. My two older brothers died when my parents did. My aunt and grandmother were the only relatives I had.”

He grew silent, but an expression that Honor identified as concern seemed to soften his eyes. Had her words affected him, perhaps more deeply than she could comprehend?

“It couldn’t have been easy growing up without parents.”

“No,” she said, “it wasn’t.”

His face looked tight and pinched, and he folded his hands loosely between his knees. “I never knew my father. He died soon after I was born. But at least I have a mother.”

“I had an aunt.” She looked away from Jeth. “Until now.”

In spite of a harsh life at the hands of her uncle, memories of her aunt’s humor and warmth filled her mind. She never knew how Aunt Harriet managed to rise above all her troubles, but she always did.

As more happy memories rose, Honor looked up at Jeth and smiled. “She told me things about my parents I’ll treasure forever.”

All at once, Honor had the desire to share some of those treasures with Jeth. “My aunt said my father called me his little Rose of Sharon, and sometimes Aunt Harriet did, too.”

Jeth had been gazing down at his black boots, but at her words he looked up into Honor’s eyes and smiled. “Rose of Sharon,” he repeated. “Why would they call you that?”

“My mother’s name was Sharon, and my middle name is Rose. For them, it might have seemed right to call me by that name.” She smiled. “The Rose of Sharon part could also have come about because one set of my grandparents was from Scotland. Rose sounds Celtic, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know, but you certainly have a Scottish look about you.”

Honor blinked. “Do I?”

He grinned. “With all that long auburn hair and those honey-brown eyes, I would say so. Rose of Sharon is the name of a flower that grows in Mama’s garden. But did you know the Rose of Sharon is also mentioned in the Bible?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“The term is found in the first verse of the second chapter of Song of Solomon.”

“I don’t know much about the Bible.”

He glanced down at his boots again. “I see.”

“But if it’s there, I guess that explains where the name came from.” She wondered if he was surprised to learn that she wasn’t a Bible scholar? Could it be that he was dis
turbed to realize she wasn’t a churchgoer, either? He should have guessed how things were at her home by what Lucas had said and done at the cemetery.

“As I said, my parents were missionaries,” she continued. “Aunt Harriet said the Good Book was very important to them.”

The young pastor seemed to have disappeared into another void of silence. Had she revealed more than she should?

At last, Jeth looked up again. He smiled, but to Honor his expression seemed counterfeit.

“Mama and I have been talking,” he said. “We would like to offer you employment.”

Employment? Honor was shocked. Who would want to hire her to do anything? She started to sit up, then remembered the importance of modesty and slipped under the covers once more. “Why me?” she asked.

“Mama needs someone to help around the rooming house here. And I need a helper to do odd jobs at the church.”

She lifted her head off the pillow, staring at him. “Just how odd are these jobs?”

He laughed. Leaning back in his chair, he appeared to relax—like he was enjoying himself. Then the humor slowly faded. A serious expression replaced the smile on his face. “Your duties at the church would mostly involve delivering food and messages.”

“And to whom would I be expected to deliver these things?”

“Members of our church.” Another brief smile surfaced. “The job could include cooking. You can cook, can’t you?”

“My, yes. I’ve done a lot of that.”

Jeth nodded. He slapped the wooden arm of his chair lightly, then he rose and went to the door. Honor thought he planned to leave, but he turned back and stood, as usual, with his hands behind his back and his legs spread.

“I know you can read and write,” he said. “You wrote us that note. But can you read well enough to teach someone else?”

“Of course.”

His face relaxed.

Feeling a blush rising, Honor focused on a brown square of the cotton quilt. “I might not be perfect, but I can read.”

“Sorry,” Jeth said. “I never intended to hurt your feelings or embarrass you. However, these days, some folks can’t read. I’d like you to help the adults in our congregation who want to learn, so they can read the Bible.”

“My late aunt was a schoolteacher before she married, and she made sure I learned to read and write. I also do figuring and numbers.”

His head cocked. “So, will you accept the job?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll need time to think about it.”

“Take all the time you want.” He pulled out his pocket watch and checked it. A small smile turned up the edges of his mouth, and a twinkle appeared in his eyes. “As long as I have your answer today, that is. Shall we say in one hour?”

Honor hesitated, considering his proposal. One hour? Was the man serious or teasing her? With Jeth, she never knew.

Before he left her room, Jeth told her more about the jobs. Honor gave him her decision. She would accept both positions…temporarily.

What other options did she have? Moreover, Jeth and his mother needed her, and they had been helpful and kind. She had to pay them back in some way.

Honor also set a task for herself: she would pay back the money she owed by Christmas. She wouldn’t make much, but with her room and board furnished, she should be able to save a little. She didn’t know if it would be enough to pay back her entire debt to the church by her deadline, as she so hoped, but she certainly planned to try.

The next afternoon, at a lake near Hearten, Lucas stopped to water his mare. He was thirsty himself, and his backside ached from the long hours of riding. Shifting in the saddle provided only some relief. Before dismounting, he leaned forward and pressed his hands on the saddle horn, taking most of his weight in his legs.

Cold and damp, Lucas got down from his horse. A wave of guilt swept over him, along with a thin sprinkle of frosty rain. Thinking about Harriet and all that had happened, his mind and heart were troubled, but he pushed away the memories. They demanded too much of him. Lucas didn’t need to change. He was fine the way he was.

Yet, he wished he’d never hit Honor and Harriet—or any woman, for that matter. Lucas always regretted his sins when he was sober, which was a good reason to have another drink. He pulled the flask from the inside pocket of his jacket.

He planned to pay a visit to the Sharp Ranch, hoping to find work. He chortled at the thought. If they needed someone to help them brew the alcohol they were so
famous for, he was the man. Now, there was a job that he would like.

When he looked up again, he saw a skinny cowboy riding toward him on a swaybacked, bay gelding.

Lucas thought of the Bible and the necklace in his saddlebag. Maybe the cowboy would be willing to buy them. Lucas could probably get more money if he sold the pearls in Pine Falls, but if the cowboy bought the Bible, he’d have cash right away.

Every day, Dr. Harris paid a visit to Honor. A week after the stage robbery, he announced that she was well enough to do light housekeeping and to work at the church for a few hours a week.

Just getting out of bed was a chore for her. She couldn’t imagine what an entire day of work might be like.

Mrs. Peters had given Honor several dresses, and they all fit perfectly. Honor wouldn’t have to wear her late aunt’s tan wedding dress again until Sunday, when the family attended church. She put on a green, wool dress with a white cotton collar.

Honor had doubted that she was the right person for her new job since the day she accepted it. She worried still more as she combed her long hair and twisted it into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Gazing at her reflection in the oval mirror with the maple frame, she concluded that she looked presentable.

After helping with breakfast in the big kitchen and dusting the upstairs bedrooms, Honor’s back hurt. Tendrils of her long red hair had pulled free of her bun and were fall
ing in her eyes. Pushing them away with the back of her hand, she sighed deeply. If only a chair had been tied to her back so she could sit down and rest whenever she wanted.

Later, when Honor served the noon meal, Jeth didn’t join the other boarders in the big dining room. She wondered if perhaps he ate at the hotel in town. She hadn’t seen him at breakfast, either. Then she glanced out a window and saw him talking to his mother on the lawn outside.

In the kitchen after the middle-of-the-day dinner, Honor and Mrs. Peters, wearing long white aprons, stood in front of a tub of soapy water. While Jeth’s mother washed the pots, pans, plates, cups and silverware, Honor rinsed the items in a bucket of fresh water and dried them with a white cloth.

Mrs. Peters looked up from her dish-washing and glanced out a window. “Have you noticed how cold it’s getting outside? Look at the wind, blowing the branches of the trees. It could be snowing by nightfall.” She dried her hands on her apron. “Miss McCall, I’ve been meaning to tell you a little about the folks who live here. Now seems as good a time as any.”

“All right, ma’am.”

“Of course you already know my son, the minister. And since you dusted upstairs this morning, maybe you met Mrs. Clark and Mrs. Davis?”

“No, ma’am, I didn’t.”

“They probably went out for their morning stroll. They are sisters, you see, and very sweet. I know you’ll like them. Both are widows. And as I said, they live upstairs. I live up
stairs, too. And besides your room, there are also two vacant rooms above the stairs and one available room downstairs. As you know, Jethro and Elmer live down here on the first floor. You probably haven’t met Elmer yet, but you will.

“Dr. Harris lives in town but eats most of his meals here,” Mrs. Peters explained. “Sometimes we have as few as four or five at mealtime. Counting you and I, that would make six or seven. Or we could have a dozen or more at every meal. You just never know. But there’s always plenty to do.”

Honor nodded. “I can see that.”

“Oh, and that reminds me. I need flour and a few other things from the store. Baker’s Grocery and Mercantile is just down the road. Jethro promised to drive into town to get what I need. And, Miss McCall, I want you to accompany Jethro today when he drives into town.”

Why did Mrs. Peters call her son Jethro when he preferred Jeth? And why did she think Honor needed an outing? Yes, she was tired, but regardless of her current physical condition, Honor was capable of finishing a day’s work without a long break.

“Besides, honey,” Mrs. Peters continued, “you look worn out.”

“I’m all right, ma’am, really I am.”

“Nonsense. You’ve worked hard today and deserve rest from your labors. Now, run along. Jethro will be leaving in a few minutes, and I expect you to go with him. You can wait for him in the parlor.”

Honor returned to her room to wash her face and comb her hair. Then she went downstairs and entered the parlor to wait for Jeth. It was the first time she’d visited
that part of the boardinghouse, and she stood in the doorway for a moment to take in the large, well-decorated room.