Pearl

by Hildie McQueen

  One ad in particular took her attention. The man, a wheat farmer, had a little boy. He claimed to be searching for a strong woman who would be his partner at the ranch as well as help him raise his son. From the picture, he looked to be handsome, with strong wide shoulders, his gaze meeting the camera directly.

  The fact that Owen Reynolds asked for a partner stood out to her, if she were to choose, that man appeared to be the best choice for her.

  Angel Creek, Montana was where Melva was going and near where Reynolds lived as well. If, which remained questionable, she was to write to any of the men, she’d write to Owen Reynolds. Absently she wondered who Melva would choose for her, she’d not had the opportunity to ask.

  The next day she’d make a final decision.

  Each day that passed had melted into the one before, a duplicate of the same repeating every twenty-four hours. Any change made her physically sick, just the thought of continuing life there in Pennsylvania became harder as the time passed.

  From the bed, she looked to the window, the soft glow of a full moon visible through the curtains. Fate had a way of changing the trajectory of one’s life. It was cruel, undiscerning and without care.

  When an errant tear trailed down her cheek, Pearl didn’t bother to wipe it way. Instead she took a deep breath and considered things. It could be that Melva had given her a way to a new and fresh start. A reason to get away from the constant reminders of everything she’d lost.

  If she moved west, it would mean more independence as Melva had stated. Even out west, people had reasons to celebrate life and cakes were always welcomed. She could make cakes and sell them to help with expenses.

  A tremble of either fear or anticipation rushed through her. Could she do it?

  Could she move west, marry a stranger and be mother to a little boy? Would she be able to bake without it breaking her heart into pieces?

  Fate prodded at her and Pearl realized the decision was made.

  Chapter 2

  Angel Creek, Montana

  Blood boiling and seeing red, Luke Reynolds spit out blood and lifted his fists just as his brother, Owen, rushed forward and tackled him to the ground. Since his brother was drunk, it was easy to roll him off and punch him twice.

  Despite his brother’s lack of proper dexterity, they continued to grapple doing more shoving and light hits since they were both too winded at that point to do much damage.

  Jack, his hunting dog tugged at his right trouser leg, the animal smarter than his owner. The animal had been trying in vain to break up the fight since they’d begun. Admittedly, Luke had thrown the first punch attacking his brother.

  “Stop Jack,” he admonished the Labrador. The dog let go and then bit the hem of Owen’s shirt and tugged.

  His brother ignored the dog, instead swung at Luke’s face, but he was able to block it and countered with a punch to the jaw.

  Just then he caught sight of Charley. The skinny boy stood stock still, the bruise on the side of his face turning purple, his cheek puffed out. Shoulders rounded the boy watched them tears rolling down his cheeks.

  A brawl was not a sight for the young kid, watching his uncle and father fighting. Luke got up and dragged his brother up.

  “Get out of here Owen. Leave Charley with me. You’re not fit to be a father.”

  Owen spit on the ground, swayed a bit but managed to remain upright. “The boy had no business talking back. I should have beat him worse.”

  “It’s time for you to go. Do something to better yourself and then come back for him if you want. But for now, I won’t allow you to take him.”

  His brother’s behavior confounded him. Owen had gone from a responsible father to a stranger without scruples.

  “I may not ever come back,” Owen said wiping blood from his split lip and looking at it. “Not that you care. You’re too busy pointing out everything I do wrong.”

  Instead of replying, Luke walked toward the house, the large ranch home he’d built where he’d hoped to raise a family. There wasn’t anything to say to Owen, they’d had the same argument for months and his brother continued to refuse to take responsibility for all the damage he’d done to his own life.

  Taking hold of Charley’s shoulder, Luke turned the boy away. “Come on, let’s get washed up.”

  “You’ll be sorry for this,” Owen called after them. “I won’t come back. You’ll be stuck with the boy.”

  When he didn’t reply Owen let out a string of curse words that made Luke cringe knowing Charley heard them. If it wasn’t for the fact he had to look after his nephew, he would have turned around and tackled his brother again.

  There was no fire in the fireplace and the lantern was not lit. Luke looked around noting dirty plates on the table, discarded cups lay sideways on the floor.

  “When was the last time you ate?” He asked Charley, who picked up a plate from the floor and placed it on the kitchen table.

  The child looked up at him and shrugged. “Yesterday?”

  It had been a mistake to trust that his brother would truly remain sober. Luke had been gone for two weeks and returned to find corral gates had been left open and several animals missing. Thankfully the cows had not wandered too far and two of the horses had gone to the stables to avoid the cold.

  But there was still one horse and the goats were missing.

  Luke suspected, his brother had taken the goats to town to sell them, possibly the horse as well.

  Interesting how quickly Owen had agreed to leave when every other time before he’d promised to stop drinking and make amends.

  There wasn’t a clean pot or plate in sight making Luke wonder how to go about feeding the boy who watched him with expectation.

  After starting a fire in the hearth, he went to the well and brought in two buckets of water. Once he washed a frying pan, two plates and a pair of cups, he went to the chicken coop and collected eggs. There was an overabundance, obviously his brother had not taken the time to fetch them. There were chicks, proving his theory right. He fed the animals and picked up one of the tiny birds to inspect it.

  The little bird’s squeaks made him smile and he placed it back down. He’d have to build a bigger coop to accommodate the new families.

  Back in the kitchen, he inspected the mostly empty cabinets. There was no meat left in the larder, except for some fat back, which he took and chopped up into small pieces.

  Within minutes, the aroma of sizzling pork filled the house. Charley sat at the table in silence. Streaks of dirt mixed with tears and blood made for a sad sight enraging Luke again. How could a full-grown man strike a small child, especially his own blood.

  Like most seven-year old’s, Charley was rambunctious and full of energy. Although a serious intelligent child, he minded and rarely got in trouble.

  “What happened?

  The boy shrugged. “Pa got mad when I said I wanted you to be my real Pa instead of him.”

  “You shouldn’t have said that,” Luke admonished gently. “Especially when he’d been drinking.”

  The boy touched his cheek, testing for pain. “He shouldn’a hit me either.”

  “That’s true,” Luke agreed.

  Piling an extra-large portion of the scrambled egg mixture onto a plate he’d just washed, Luke then slid it in front of his nephew. He poured the child coffee weakened with milk while studying the boy.

  “After we eat, I’ll see about getting you washed up. You need a bath.”

  Charley didn’t argue, but his gaze moved toward the back room where they kept the tub. The boy was not fond of baths.

  They ate in silence. Charley devouring his food and then looking to the kitchen.

  “Want more?”

  The child nodded. Luke chuckled. “It's the first time someone likes my cooking enough to ask for seconds.” He slid his own plate over to the boy. “Eat up.”

  By the time he bathed Charley and put the tired boy to bed, it was getting dark outside.

  Luke went out to th
e stable to see about the horses. It took a couple hours to feed them and then check on the cows in the corral. The next day he’d see about herding them into the smaller pen near the horse stables, so they could take cover under a long overhang he’d built during the summer.

  Luke took one last look around, it was a bright night, the full moon allowing enough light to see. Owen’s horse was gone, along with some of his belongings that he’d seemed to have prepacked. Had his brother planned to leave once he returned?

  Perhaps.

  He was much too exhausted to worry about what Owen did or didn’t do. He probably headed to their parent’s farm that was a few hours away.

  Once he got back into the house, he looked around at the disarray. The next day would be a busy one.

  The crowing of a rooster sounded as if the bird was in his bedroom. Luke shivered wondering what time it was.

  Sometime during the night, he’d taken his boots off and pulled a blanket over himself, but it was not enough to keep the frigid cold away.

  There was much to do. He had to go to town to get plenty of supplies to ensure there’d be food for him and Charley during the next month, in case it snowed, which would make it hard to travel the two hours into town.

  For breakfast, he and the boy ate eggs and fat back. At noting how much more relaxed Charley was, Luke considered that it would be best if Owen never returned. There was no need for the man to disrupt Charley’s life so badly with his drinking problem. For the last months, he’d been the one looking after the boy for the most part as Owen spent most of his days either in town or out at the stables.

  He looked around the barren house and considered how fate altered the plans one made. The reason for building the home had been to someday raise a family there. He’d been besotted with a young woman from Angel Creek, the nearby town. However, one spring, when he’d gone to call on her, she’d been gone.

  The parents had sent her back east and she’d married a banker. Broken hearted, he’d given up on the idea of marriage after that. There were very few women there in Angel Creek and whenever new families arrived, the men in town were the first to meet and court any single women who came.

  He let out a sigh recalling that Owen had spoken of writing for a mail order bride. Luke wondered what ever became of it. It was probably something his brother had considered when inebriated and forgotten once sober.

  There had been many mail order brides who’d come and married and although Luke was not averse to the idea, he’d not made time to pursue it. Most of the work on his small ranch had been on his shoulders, leaving little time for enjoyable things like writing letters.

  After breakfast he walked out to the porch and considered the monumental list of work that had to be done. There was wood to chop, feed to store, cows to herd and a long list of other tasks to ensure everything would be ready for what was proving to already be a bitter winter.

  He trudged to the horse stables and guided the horses out to a corral behind it so that he could clean out the stalls. Once that was completed, he went back to the house and put more wood into the fireplace, warming himself.

  “Charley, did you and your pa go into town while I was gone?”

  The boy looked up from the table where he was attempting to write the lesson Luke had left for him. Copying letters on a small slate. “Pa did. I stayed here.”

  “What did he take with him?”

  Charley frowned. “The goats.”

  Just as he suspected, his damn brother had sold the goats that he’d planned to breed. He bit back a curse. “How many horses did he take?”

  Again, the child scrunched up his face in thought, the expression much like his brother’s. “Just one, I think.”

  “Did anyone come to buy a horse?”

  “No sir.”

  “Stay inside and finish your lessons. If you get hungry, there’s some beans boiling on the stove. Pay attention,” he said when the boy looked to the stove.

  “See that cup of water?”

  “Yes sir,”

  “Add it to the beans when you see the big hand on the clock move to the two.”

  Charley perked up and nodded. The boy loved anything to do with time.

  “If you get hungry, there’s some pork cracklings in the bowl. Don’t try to get the beans. You can burn yourself.”

  Moments later, he was mounted and headed out to the find the missing horse. The frosty wind was like icy fingers touching his skin. Luke pulled his scarf around his neck and hunched his shoulders against it.

  The horse could be anywhere. Perhaps it had been spooked or hurt. There was no telling how long the animal had been out in the elements.

  The missing horse was a young mare that he’d purchased not long before leaving. So, it was possible the animal was not familiar enough with the area to find its way home.

  Three hours later when he was just about to turn around Luke spotted the pitiful animal. The mare was stuck behind thorny bushes, it had a strap around its face that had been caught on low branches. It’s lower legs bloody from trying to get free.

  Luke walked up and spoke to the animal in low tones. “Let’s get you free girl. Be still.” He ran his gloved hands down the animal’s nose and untied the strap. Then he guided the animal around the back of the bushes and toward where the other horse waited. He unrolled a blanket tied to the saddle bag and placed it over the shivering animal.

  The mare seemed to understand it was safe because it didn’t protest when he placed a bridle on it and tethered it to his horse.

  Another hour and a half later, Luke finally had the tired animal in a stall in the stables. He’d placed a simple poultice on the mare’s legs and fed the hungry animal leaving it in a stall to rest.

  Walking back to the house, he realized town would have to be put off another day as it was already close to evening. The ride to town wasn’t very long, just a couple hours, but he was exhausted.

  By the time beans were done and he’d managed to scrape together enough cornmeal to make some cornbread, it was dark outside.

  “This is the best food ever,” Charley pronounced and yawned. “The best.”

  His chest constricted at how easy it was to please the boy. “Tomorrow we’re going to town.”

  Charley’s eyes widened. “I get to come too?”

  “Yes. We’ll get you some new clothes and maybe even we can have a meal at the eatery. What do you think about that?”

  A rare smile crept across Charley’s face as he nodded with enthusiasm. “Thank you, Uncle Luke.”

  After several trips to the water pump, he washed dishes and scrubbed the table surfaces, mopped the floor and then took a bath.

  Luke studied his unmade bed and he realized the bedding had not been changed since before he left, so Luke yanked the dirty sheets from his bed and spread out clean ones, then finally wrapping up in a blanket, he got into the bed.

  His mind swam with what he’d do the next day. First off, he had to get up very early to feed and care for the animals so that he’d be done by mid-morning. He could not put off going to town any longer, so he hoped that by late morning he and Charley would be on the road.

  Thankfully, he’d made good money on his trip where he’d sold most of his cattle. He’d decided to change from ranching to farming since his wheat fields had yielded quite a bit that fall. In his opinion, farming, although hard work during planning and harvesting season, was easier because he could sell to local ranchers and people in town.

  He’d only kept a few head of cattle for meat and milk. Other than that he’d planned to breed some goats for milk and cheese.

  Now the expensive two pair of goats he’d acquired from his father were gone. Luke considered that perhaps he could buy them back when he went to town and found out who bought them.

  His dog, Jack, who usually slept with Charley, jumped onto Luke’s bed, circled several times and settled next to him.

  Luke didn’t admonish the dog, during the winter Jack provided much needed
warmth. Charley was warm enough since he’d piled on blankets over the sleeping boy.

  The change of raising Charley was an unexpected change to his life.

  Chapter 3

  Pearl leaned her head against the glass, much too tired to study the view outside. Her current situation made her miss the uneventful train ride out west. In the stagecoach, she and Melva were squeezed in one side with a thin older man and across from them were a man and wife who constantly argued. It smelled of unwashed bodies and stale breath, which made her stomach lurch.

  Unlike her, Melva was bright-eyed and excited about what awaited them once they arrived in Angel Creek. In the end, Melva had decided not to write for a husband and to instead meet someone in person. Her ever enterprising, cousin had managed to secure a job as governess to children for a family who lived just a day’s ride from Angel Creek.

  “I am not sure when my future husband will be picking me up,” Pearl said. “What if he didn’t receive my letter?” She gripped her hands together and let out a breath.

  Melva, always optimistic, shrugged. “Then you and I will live together. I’m sure my new employer will not be able to resist your pout and allow you to stay until we find you a position as well. Don’t fret, it will be fine.”

  It was that optimism that had gotten her into the situation in the first place. Melva pointing out how handsome the man in the picture seemed to be and insisting the entire experience would be an amazing adventure. She’d been so enthusiastic about their trip west that even Pearl’s aunt and uncle had agreed and allowed them to go together.

  The fact they thought she and Melva were both headed west to be governesses made her uncomfortable each time Pearl thought about it. There would have been no other way to leave on good terms. If she’d told her aunt and uncle the truth, that she was traveling to Montana to marry a stranger, they would have forbidden the journey.