“Mr. Grant, it was a fine thing you did for my granddaughter two days past, and my wife, Margaret, and I are grateful to you. Here are some things you might need,”—he dropped a burlap sack at the foot of the cell—“a blanket, a towel, a washcloth and some soap, and the lassie has a nice meal for you. All I ask is that you mind your language, please, no rough or unseemly talk or she won’t be coming back here again. Agreed?”
“Agreed, sir.”
Pearl saw her grandfather’s surprise at Daniel’s deference, and suddenly he didn’t seem as wary about leaving her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and then headed out the door, calling over his shoulder, “I won’t be far away and it won’t be for long, Sheriff! I’ll leave our buggy parked in front of the jailhouse if you don’t mind. Pull up a chair for the lassie, will you?”
Pearl heard a heavy sigh from the young lawman, who dragged over his own swivel chair as her grandfather had bade him though he didn’t look too pleased about it.
“I don’t suppose there’s any fried chicken in that basket for me,” he said tightly, not looking surprised at Pearl’s quick shake of her head. “Guess I’ll have to make do with a ham sandwich for lunch. I’ll be next door in my office if you need me.”
Astonished that Luke would leave them alone, Pearl stood watching as he gathered up a ring of jangly keys from the desk and then left without another word through a side door. Only then did she turn back to Daniel, who stared at her quizzically through the bars.
“You wish to speak to me, Miss McMaster?”
Daniel’s voice was gruff but gentle, and gave Pearl shivers unlike she’d ever felt before. A sweet kind of shiver, making her cheeks grow warm, and she wondered if he’d noticed. For the first time since entering the jailhouse, she didn’t feel nervous anymore. Just relieved that she finally stood there staring into his deep brown eyes.
“Please…just Pearl.”
“Very well, Pearl.”
She blinked at the sound of her name upon his lips as more of those sweet shivers raced through her. Suddenly feeling self-conscious and so school-girlish, she glanced down at the basket.
“I hope you like the lunch I’ve brought you. I would have come by sooner if not for the bad weather. Grandpa said the roads were too icy yesterday to go anywhere. We couldn’t even go to church.”
She fussed absently with the napkin, and then glanced up to find him still staring at her. Quietly. Thoughtfully. She supposed biding his time until she blurted something else—oh, dear, why didn’t she just say why she’d come here in the first place?
“Sit down, Pearl. It can’t be easy on you standing in one place.”
She blushed, no one other than her parents and her grandparents ever noting before that she felt discomfort when she stood still for too long. She gave a small nod and started to sink down only to have the swivel chair start to roll backward—oh!
“I’ve got it. Go ahead and sit down now.”
Indeed, Daniel had shot out his hand between the bars to catch the arm of the chair before it could slide out from under her, much to Pearl’s relief.
“T-thank you,” she murmured as she sat down at an angle to accommodate her peg leg, which didn’t bend, then smoothed her indigo blue skirt and propped her cane against the chair. “That was so clumsy of me.”
“Not clumsy at all, just a fact of your life. You maneuver quite well for losing your leg above the knee…”
He fell silent as Pearl met his eyes, which had darkened in hue. “How did you know…?”
For a moment he looked uncomfortable as if she’d touched upon some raw nerve, but then he gave a slight shrug. “I worked for a time in a surgeon’s office. Another lifetime ago. Shall we have some of that chicken?”
“Yes, of course.” Pearl flipped aside the napkin and thrust the basket toward him. “My grandmother makes the best fried chicken, and there’s three bean salad that she canned last summer and some dill pickles and a slice of chocolate cake. You’ll find a plate and fork and some extra napkins at the bottom—”
“It might be easier to set the basket on the floor,” he suggested with what she would swear was a glimmer of a smile. A glimmer that made him appear even more handsome in spite of his thick beard, which actually, she didn’t seem to mind so much anymore. As she obliged him, he settled himself cross-legged on the floor because there was nothing in his cell but the cot, well, and a slop bucket in the corner.
“Pretty spare surroundings, I agree,” he said, following her gaze. “Not much different than some of the places I’ve stayed. A cleaning woman came by this morning and the sheriff locked me in another cell while she tidied up, and he gave me a basin of water so I could wash—but I appreciate everything you brought me. Mmm, that chicken smells good.”
Pearl stared at Daniel in amazement as he reached through the bars and dug in the basket for the tableware and then helped himself to the food.
Andreas had mentioned the other day that getting Daniel to talk was like pulling teeth, and that his explanation of the events to the sheriff had been brief indeed, but clearly he spoke when he wanted to!
“Forgive me for asking…but have you ever spent time in jail before?”
He had just bitten into a chicken leg, and he paused to chew and swallow instead of answering her with his mouth full, his manners more refined than most as he shook his head. “First time for everything, I guess. Are you going to eat lunch, too?”
“Oh, no, I ate already. All of this is for you.”
“I’m much obliged, Pearl. Please thank your grandmother for me. I haven’t had fried chicken this good since…well, it’s been a long time.”
His expression grown somber again, he ate for a few moments in silence while she sat there politely, sensing that once more some raw nerve had been touched. Remembering what her grandfather had said about drifters, she was tempted to ask him more questions, but then decided against it. He had clearly been hungry, and seemed to be enjoying what she’d brought him.
“I hope they’ve been feeding you here.”
To her surprise, he laughed, a deep, rich sound that warmed her as he wiped his mouth with the gingham napkin.
“Rice and beans morning, noon, and night. Food is food, though. I’ve eaten worse.”
Something told her that he wasn’t jesting, his life moving from place to place probably a difficult one. Yet he seemed so intelligent, so mannerly, and so gentlemanly. As he dug his fork into the chocolate cake, she leaned toward him and spoke earnestly and from the heart.
“I don’t think you’re a nobody, Daniel, not at all. I can’t thank you enough for helping me the other day. That’s the main reason I came here. I haven’t had a chance until now to tell you how much it meant to me that you stepped in…and that you brought those boys to apologize to me. You put yourself at risk for me”—tears suddenly burned her eyes—“and now you’re going to face a judge…”
A sob escaped her, but she clapped her hand over her mouth, fearing that Sheriff Braun might hear her and return even as Daniel raised himself on his knees to look at her.
“I’d do it again if it meant righting such a cruel wrong against you, no matter I ended up here.”
She stared at him, her eyes swimming, and he stared at her, Pearl’s breath catching when he reached out to wipe a tear from her cheek.
“Don’t cry, Pearl. You’ve known enough hardship without distressing yourself over me.”
She didn’t know what to say, the touch of his fingers the most tender thing she’d ever known. The sudden scraping of a chair from the adjoining office made him pull back his hand, while the approaching sound of her grandfather whistling an Irish tune made Pearl quickly wipe away the rest of her tears.
“Is there anything else you need? Anything else I can bring you?”
He didn’t readily answer, studying her face. His eyes had darkened again as if he struggled with some inner turmoil, his expression almost angry. Finally, he shook his head.
“Andreas brought my f
ew belongings over this morning, along with my wages, so I’ve some money and a change of clothes. He said the telegraph wires were down throughout the county from the sleet storm. It might be several more days before they can send a telegram to Caleb Walker, though I doubt he’ll help me out. Seems Jedidiah Hobbs is a big rancher in these parts, too, and they probably stick together. Why would anyone help a drifter?”
“Oh, dear, please don’t say that! I’ll help you, and my grandparents, too.”
“You’ll help me, Pearl?”
“Of course I will. What can I do?”
“Come back here tomorrow. We’ll talk more then.”
She had no more than an instant to nod when the jailhouse door was thrust open and her grandfather stuck his head inside.
“Lassie, it’s time to go. I just stopped by your grandmother’s shop and she asked that you come and help her with those new dresses for your friend Kari.”
“Yes, Grandpa, I’m coming.”
Once again Daniel’s hand shot out to hold the chair as Pearl rose, and she flashed him a grateful smile.
“Tomorrow, then,” he murmured.
“Yes,” she whispered back, those same sweet shivers washing over her as she turned and went to her grandfather. “I’ll have to pick up the basket tomorrow, Grandpa. Mr. Grant hasn’t quite finished eating.”
“Very well. A good day to you, lad.”
Daniel watched as the wiry Irishman escorted Pearl from the jailhouse, the door closing behind them making him feel even worse than he already did.
“Someday you’re going straight to hell, Daniel Grant,” he said under his breath, disgusted with himself. Yet what else was he to do than to try and get Pearl to help him escape from this miserable cell?
The way things were going, so many charges laid against him, he might find himself facing extended prison time if Judge Worthington was the sort to mete out harsh sentences.
If there was one thing Daniel had learned since he left the life he’d known behind him, drifters were regarded with high suspicion from the moment they entered a town.
He should have found work at one of the surrounding ranches rather than with Andreas Hagen. If Daniel had never set foot in Walker Creek, he wouldn’t have seen Pearl in trouble and rushed to her aid—and he surely wouldn’t have gone after those two young hoodlums who deserved more punishment than the lesson he hoped he’d taught them!
“I see your visitors have left,” Sheriff Braun said as he walked back into the jailhouse and straight to Daniel’s cell. “Why, look here, there’s still some fried chicken. Don’t mind if I do.” He picked up the basket, but then pointed to the plate and utensil just inside the bars on the floor. “Hand those over. Can’t have you thinking to squirrel away that fork to use against me.”
“I wouldn’t do that to anyone,” Daniel said tightly, obliging him, but all he got was a short laugh as the sheriff strode back to his office.
“No telling why anyone would waste their time over someone like you, Grant—but then again, who can read a woman?”
Daniel gripped the bars as the sheriff disappeared into his office and shut the door, leaving him once more alone.
Alone and thinking about Pearl McMaster, whom he’d read just fine.
Her sweet innocence. Her kindness. Her gentle directness that had him revealing more about himself during her short visit than he had to anyone since leaving Nashville.
Her stunning green eyes wet with tears that had moved him so deeply as she blamed herself for his predicament—Lord help him, he didn’t want to ask her to help him escape but what else was he to do?
Pace this cell until the judge passed sentence upon him and he wound up in a Texas prison for months or even worse?
Chapter 4
“What’s come over you, Pearl? You’re going to have to redo those stitches if you don’t focus more on your work.”
Margaret McMaster clucked her tongue in dismay as Pearl dropped the mauve velvet skirt she was hemming onto her lap.
“I’m sorry, Grandma. I’ve been sitting here most of the day. I really need to get up and move around. You understand, don’t you?”
“Oh, dear, forgive me. Of course you shouldn’t be sitting for so long at a stretch.” Looking with apology at Pearl, she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you to help me. It’s just that we have that order from Kari Davis, and so many ladies coming in for fittings so their dresses are ready for the Christmas ball—”
“I don’t mind helping you, Grandma. You know I want to earn my keep.”
“Ah, child, don’t trouble yourself about your keep. It’s a joy having you with us, Michael and me. I think it’s time to bring in some of the local women that help me when things get a bit too busy. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. You go on now and get yourself some fresh air. It’s warmer out today, but you’ll still need your cape.”
Pearl felt a little guilty as her grandmother, eight years younger than her husband and always so energetic, jumped up to help her—though Pearl had been sewing until her fingers hurt.
The morning had thankfully passed by in a whirl with all the fittings, then lunch had come and gone with meatloaf sandwiches packed from home, and now the clock read half past one o’clock! Might Daniel think she had forgotten him? Oh, dear, she hoped not! He had never once left her mind.
“Might I take that last sandwich?” she asked, not sure what her grandmother would think if she knew Pearl planned to head back to the jail. Yesterday’s visit was one thing, but another might seem, well, inappropriate for a young lady, no matter Daniel had helped her. “I’m still a bit hungry.”
“Of course, dear. Here’s your bonnet.” Her grandmother smiled as she settled the frilly creation with ruffles and bows atop Pearl’s hair. “You’re as pretty as a picture, Pearl McMaster, and don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise, you hear me?”
She nodded, though she felt a pang as those boys’ taunt came flooding back to her…Peg-leg Pearl, Peg-leg Pearl! A shame her pretty face is wasted on a one-legged girl!
She faltered for an instant, and considered sitting back down to her sewing as butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of seeing Daniel again.
She had no idea what he might have in mind as to how she could help him, but perhaps he’d meant just to see her again.
Drifters must get lonely, too. She supposed if such a man found something he liked about a place—really liked—that he might even consider staying put and settling down—oh, my, how could that even be possible? He’d been thrown into jail, after all! How welcome and likely to settle down in Walker Creek had that made him feel?
Blushing at her racing thoughts, she gave her grandmother a peck on the cheek, grabbed her cane, and headed for the door.
“Pearl, you forgot your sandwich. Here, I’ve wrapped it in a napkin for you.”
A fresh wave of guilt struck her as she took the sandwich, her grandmother’s knowing look telling her that Margaret had read her true intentions all along.
“Michael told me your Mr. Grant’s a strapping, fine-looking man—”
“Oh, no, Grandma, he’s not my Mr. Grant,” Pearl protested, though the blush burning her cheeks made her grandmother draw her close to give her a fierce hug.
“You’ve a right to fall in love like any other, child, no matter the injury you suffered—except the man’s in jail and a drifter to boot. I can’t forbid you from going to see him, but I do ask you to guard your heart. Will you do that for me, Pearl?”
Stunned by her grandmother’s talk of falling in love, and feeling more butterflies in her stomach than ever, Pearl nodded as Margaret released her.
“Go on with you, then. Greet him for me and tell him that your grandfather and I look forward to the day when his troubles are past and we can all sit down to supper together.”
“Your grandmother invited me to supper?”
Pearl bobbed her head as Daniel took a last bite of the meatloaf sandwich, but she had no intent
ion of revealing what else her grandmother had said to her. Just the thought made her face grow so warm, she was certain that he would notice. Her cheeks must be as red as her hair!
She glanced over her shoulder at the sheriff’s deputy looking out a barred window that faced the street. She had no idea where Sheriff Braun had taken himself off to, but he hadn’t left the jail unattended. The husky young deputy had granted her entrance without a word, strangely as if he’d expected her, and pulled the swivel chair himself to the cell. He wasn’t so far away that he couldn’t hear what they were saying so she kept her voice low.
“When your troubles are past, Daniel, which we hope is soon. Have you heard any news from Andreas about the telegraph wires?”
“No, but like I said yesterday, I don’t expect any help from a telegram.”
“Maybe not from Caleb Walker,” she said softly, Daniel having pulled up his cot to the bars and sat down so they might visit face-to-face. Her heart had done a flip as soon as she entered the jailhouse and saw him again, the butterflies fluttering like mad now as he stared at her intently. “Is there anyone of influence that might vouch for you? You’re so well-spoken, surely you haven’t always been a drifter. Someone from wherever you came from originally who could speak to your character?”
“No, no one.”
He spoke so gruffly, so angrily even, that she felt stung and leaned back in her chair. “I-I’m sorry. It’s just that I told you yesterday I’d help you, so I’ve been doing my best to think of possible ways…”
His heavy sigh silenced her and he reached through the bars to grasp her hand. “Forgive me. You and your grandparents have been very kind, but I’ll never go back to where I lived before so no help there.”
Her hand enveloped in his larger one, Pearl swallowed hard at how unexpected his gesture had been and once more glanced over her shoulder. The deputy still stood at the window, but she felt certain he was listening to everything she and Daniel said so she lowered her voice to a near whisper.
Pearl: Sweet Western Historical Romance (Walker Creek Brides Book 4) Page 3
