Molly Noble Bull

by The Winter Pearl

  “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 wa
s 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?”

  “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.”