Pearl

by Vivi Holt

  At the front of the room, Hilton and Millie stood facing each other, her left hand in his, gazing into each other’s eyes like the lovebirds they were. It was clear to all, including Pearl, they were in love – and better suited to each other than Pearl and Hilton ever could’ve been.

  Pearl smiled as Hilton vowed to love and protect Millie. Wedding vows always made her heart warm. She pulled a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed her eyes. A quick glance around the chapel revealed she wasn’t the only woman in the place doing so.

  Hilton looked so handsome in his black suit and tie. He seemed downright confident, even suave, and for a moment Pearl experienced a pang of regret in the pit of her stomach. Had she made the right choice in turning him down? In breaking off their engagement, she’d turned her back on a life with a successful journalist, a good, honest, caring man. And for what – to drive a stagecoach while dressed as a man?

  She dabbed at her eyes again, this time for an entirely different reason. She was tired. Working on the stage was hard and stressful. There was always something that went wrong, or someone with a chip on their shoulder or too much whiskey in their belly. She’d chosen that path because she wanted to control her own future, she reminded herself as she smoothed her hair back. That was something worth fighting for.

  So no, she hadn’t made a mistake in breaking their engagement, and one day she’d marry for love. But she couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for herself in the moment – she was in love with Hank, and he’d already told her he wasn’t the marrying kind. So what could the future hold for them?

  She sighed and focused back on the ceremony. There was no point stewing over the dilemma now, since she wouldn’t make any progress. Her thoughts whirled around for days, since the evening encounter with the “Red Ghost” out by the cabin. What was the point? Why did she feel the way she did about him when it was clear it could go nowhere? He’d said so himself, even though he’d also whispered romantic phrases into her ear more than once.

  The ceremony ended, and everyone stood as the piano played. The couple walked out of the church, greeting everyone with wide smiles as they went. Pearl joined the rest in offering them her congratulations and best wishes, then stood with her hands folded together as the chapel emptied.

  Hank found her and stood beside her, hands on his hips. She glanced at him and her heart skipped in her chest. He looked very appealing in a new black suit, with his hair neatly combed and wayward curls tamed. His blue eyes sparkled at her. “Good mornin’, Pearl.”

  “It was a beautiful service,” she mused, staring out the door after the retreating crowd.

  “Yes, it was. No regrets?”

  It was as though he read her thoughts. She grinned and faced him. “No regrets.”

  He smiled. “Good to hear.”

  “Millie’s a stunning bride.” Perhaps if she showered the couple with compliments, it would help alleviate the uncertainty she felt over her own future.

  “Yes, she is.”

  She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. “I suppose we should go to the pounding now.” She’d never been to a pounding before – it was a Southern tradition, transplanted to the frontier, where people brought foodstuffs and household goods for the newlywed couple, the very things they really needed. There wasn’t much call for expensive silverware or ornate candle holders, like they would’ve given back in New York.

  Hank offered her his arm and she put her hand through it. Together they walked out of the chapel and next door to the community hall, where long trestle tables covered with dishes of steaming hot food ran along the front of the room. Chairs and smaller tables were scattered around the rest of the space, and people milled around talking and eating. Pearl patted a five-pound bag she’d placed there earlier and shrugged. “I got them cornmeal – I couldn’t think what else to get. I hope they don’t mind.”

  Hank nodded. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

  She left Hank speaking with a group of guests and carried her gift over to the mound of things brought by the other guests – bags of flour, sugar, salt and spices; sides of salt pork and bacon wrapped in brown paper; pumpkins and squashes; strings of onions and bags of potatoes. Linens and towels were laid out neatly on a table, along with pillows and blankets, both crocheted and knitted.

  Belle appeared at her side. “Lovely wedding,” she said.

  Pearl nodded. “Yes, it was.”

  “Care for some food?”

  “I’m famished.” The two women joined the line of folks waiting to fill their plates.

  Soon, Hank extracted himself and meandered over to meet them. “Mind if I join you?”

  Belle smiled. “Sure thing, Hank.”

  Pearl only nodded. She was still sore at him over her own confused thoughts. He looked confused too, of course – he had no idea why she was acting so cool toward him. But she couldn’t help it. She felt like he was using her poorly, causing her to fall in love with him but having no intention to marry her, leaving her with nothing but a broken heart. She’d have to pick up the pieces when he left to go wherever he meant to go to next and start all over again.

  Just the thought of it brought tears to her eyes. She didn’t want to tell him goodbye, couldn’t bear the idea of having to spend each day without the prospect of seeing him to help her through it. But if he wasn’t committed to being around, what choice was there? She’d just have to buck up and deal with it. She sniffed and raised her chin. “So I was thinking – I’m going to start saving my pennies.”

  “Oh yeah?” responded Belle, eying the pile of good food ahead of them.

  The aroma made Pearl’s stomach growl in anticipation. “Yes. I think I’m going to buy one of those mail-order cottages. You know, the ones in the catalogues?” She noticed Hank stiffen, but paid it no mind. What did it matter to him what she did with her hard-earned money? Anyway, he’d likely be long gone by the time she could finally afford it.

  “Really?” Belle asked. “You know, you might need a housemate.”

  “Are you offering?” asked Pearl, her hopes rising.

  “Sure am. I’d love to share a cottage with you. We could grow old together, be those crazy stagecoach spinsters …” Belle chuckled.

  Pearl laughed along with her, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. At least she could count on Belle to stay in her life. “It’s a deal.”

  “Hold on!” Hank declared, grabbing both her hands and spinning her to face him.

  She frowned and tried to tug free. “What are you doing, Hank Pullman. Let me go.”

  His eyes widened and he pulled her closer to him. “You can’t … you can’t buy a cottage with Belle!”

  She frowned. “And why not?”

  “Because I wanna marry you, you stubborn woman!”

  Her breath caught in her throat and she felt as though her legs might collapse beneath her. Surely it couldn’t be true – he’d said he wasn’t the marrying kind. “You do?”

  “Course I do. What do you think I’ve been workin’ toward all this time? Why do you think I took a job in town? Why I’ve been courtin’ you?” His voice dropped to a low murmur as he caressed her hands. “I thought you knew.”

  “Y’all excuse me now.” Belle smiled and stepped past them to fill her plate.

  Pearl was still in shock. “But … you said you wouldn’t ever marry. You told me … I thought at some point you’d grow weary of me and this town and you’d leave.” A sob welled up in her throat.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I said those things. But that was ‘cause I was tryin’ so desperately not to love you. I didn’t wanna fall in love. But I did anyway.”

  “You love me despite not wanting to? That’s not particularly romantic. I don’t want to hold you back from your heart’s desires.” She sobbed again and pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.

  He wrapped his arms around her and tipped up her chin with one finger to stare into her eyes. “You are my heart’s desire. I don’t wanna go nowhere without
you ever again. I want you, no one and nothin’ else. Can you live with that?”

  “But you’ll get bored, working as a blacksmith day-in and day-out,” she objected.

  “Actually, I’ve been enjoyin’ havin’ somewhere to go and havin’ work to do every day. It ain’t so bad. And I’ll have you to come home to each day … if you’ll have me.”

  She smiled through the tears.

  “So what do you say? Will you marry me, Miss Stout?”

  Pearl nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Her throat tightened around the word, but she pushed it free with a cry. “Yes!” And only when she heard the applause around her did she realize everyone had been listening to her and Hank’s conversation.

  * * *

  Pearl pushed open the front door of the cabin, and it swung in with a groan. A puff of dust made her sneeze.

  “Bless you,” said Hank behind her with a chuckle. “You all right?”

  She nodded, then sneezed again. “Gracious heavens!” She stepped inside, more dust rushed to greet her, and she clamped a handkerchief over her nose and mouth.

  The cabin was covered in dirt and dust, but looked sturdy enough. Inside, there were a few palings loose and a couple of rotten floorboards to replace, but she could tell it would be a cozy place for them to live once they were married. She grinned and reached for Hank’s arm, slipping her hand through the crook. “What do you think?”

  He grimaced. “Needs some work. Wouldn’t it just be easier to build something from scratch?”

  She shook her head. “No, it’ll be fine. Most of the timber is strong and in good shape. A bit of elbow grease and it’ll be clean in no time. You’ll see – it’ll be wonderful. Besides, if we tried to build something ourselves, there’s no way we could build something large enough before the wedding. This way, we can get married and move right in.”

  He nodded and patted the back of her hand. “Whatever you say, dear.”

  She laughed. “I never thought I’d hear those words come from your mouth.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” he quipped with a wry grin,

  “And anyway,” she continued, “it’s a bargain for such a large structure – two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen. I can’t believe someone just abandoned it like this.”

  “It happens on the frontier, especially in mining towns like Tucson. People come expecting to strike it rich and don’t, or something happens that sends them running home. They have to leave it all behind.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “But that ain’t gonna happen to us – we’re here for the long haul. Right?”

  “Right.” She grinned, removed her handkerchief from her face and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. He pivoted his head at the last moment and her lips landed on his. He grinned beneath the kiss, then cupped her cheeks to kiss her with a depth of passion that made her heart skip a beat.

  “My goodness, Mr. Pullman, save some of that for after the wedding,” she whispered against his cheek afterward.

  He laughed. “Oh, there’s plenty more waiting for you, darling.”

  They walked out into the fresh air, and Pearl felt another sneeze coming. This time it was so violent, it made her stamp her foot.

  Hank laughed, trying to hide his mirth behind a hand. “So very ladylike,” he spluttered.

  She frowned. “I’ll show you ladylike, you …” She reached for him, then caught a movement beyond the cabin’s far side – orange fur and a strange hump. “Hank, look – it’s the camel!”

  Hank turned, and the two of them watched as the creature ambled toward them across the field. Its nose was low to the ground and Pearl could see its ribcage protruding beneath the fur on its sides. “Oh, the poor thing’s hungry. It’s probably looking for more apples or carrots.”

  “Did you bring any?” asked Hank, eying the picnic basket they’d toted with them from town to eat once they’d inspected the cabin.

  Pearl smirked in triumph. “As a matter of fact, yes.” She’d hoped to see the camel again – she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the pitiful animal since the last time they’d seen it.

  Hank chuckled. “I should’ve known you’d bring something for the camel. I have an idea … see that stockyard over by the burned-out barn?”

  She nodded in response.

  “Bet I could fix that up pretty quick – there’re just a few posts that’ve fallen down. If I get them back up, open the gate and scatter some food ’round the yard, we could get him to wander in there, shut him in and keep him. What do you think?”

  She grinned. “That sounds like a fine idea. And maybe when you head back to town, you could pick up some hay?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I suppose I could. I can see that thing’s gonna make me a lot more work.”

  She laughed. “Yes, but I’ll sure appreciate it.”

  He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Well then, I suppose it’s worth it.”

  She kissed him quickly on the lips, then slipped from his arms. “And I’ll show you just how much I appreciate it – as soon as you’re done.”

  He groaned and rubbed his face. “All right, then, I’ll get started.”

  Hank had the fence completed in no time. The camel ran off as soon as Hank appeared with a hammer in his hand, but Pearl knew he’d be back before too long, nosing around for treats. When Hank returned to the cabin porch, she had their picnic laid out on a rug over the wooden slats – cold mutton pie, cornmeal mash with mutton gravy and butter cake for dessert. She’d learned to cook a little since arriving in Tucson.

  But then, when she’d lived in New York, she often helped the cook out in the kitchen. Mother wasn’t around much, and her sisters had plenty of social engagements to keep them busy. So she’d retreat to the kitchen to chat with Mrs. Pippin while she baked. When she arrived in Tucson, she tried to remember as much as she could of what the old woman taught her and write it down, then experimented with the ingredients available at the mercantile. She’d finally grown comfortable with a simple way of cooking that worked well enough.

  “This looks delicious,” said Hank with a grin as he sat down beside her. He spread his long legs out in front of him and leaned back against the cabin wall. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

  She tucked her legs beneath her and nodded. “Well, I’m no chef, but I can make a meal that will fill the emptiness.”

  He laughed. “Glad to hear it.”

  They ate, chatting about the future and what it might hold for them and their family-to-be. Pearl felt a contentment and satisfaction with life fill her soul. She’d been terrified of what lay ahead when she left New York a few months earlier. But now, she wouldn’t go back for all the tea in China. She’d finally opened that letter from her father a few weeks ago – he claimed their fortune would soon be restored and implored her to return. But she’d simply frowned and set the letter aside. She’d forgiven him for what he’d done, but she had no desire to go back.

  She loved her new life in the Arizona Territory, loved that she only did what she wanted to do, that she was in control of her future and had taken on challenges she’d never dreamed she was capable of. She felt free, happy, strong. And soon she’d marry the man of her dreams, a man who made her pulse race and whose kindness warmed her heart.

  She glanced up to see the camel slinking through the gate into the stockyard. She straightened and whispered. “Hank, the Red … the camel, it’s in the yard.”

  Hank snuck over and closed the gate, and the creature didn’t realize for a minute that it was trapped. When it did, it galloped around the enclosure, looking for an opening, and finding none, it let out that dreadful roar that had previously chilled Pearl to the bone, but now just made her heart ache. The poor creature, so far from home itself … well, she’d fatten it up soon enough. He’d come to love his new home just as she had.

  Hank returned to the porch to finish his meal and the two of them watched the camel slow down to look for more treats. “Well, that went w
ell enough. And I like that name – Red. Very fitting name for the so-called Red Ghost.”

  She nodded and swallowed a bite of pie. “It’s perfect. I wonder what everyone in town will say when we tell them we’ve trapped their terrifying legend.”

  He laughed. “Should be a fun tale to tell – a story to add to the legend. And by the way, I found out how he got here.”

  “Oh?” She cocked her head to one side.

  “Yeah, an old Grand Army veteran passed through town a few days ago. He had a drink at the saloon and I joined him. He was full of interestin’ information. Apparently a veteran of the Texas War, Edward Fitzgerald Beale, thought camels would do better than horses in the southwest, ‘cause they’re used to desert and all. So in 1857 Jefferson Davis, who was Secretary of War then, encouraged the U.S. military to import seventy-five of ‘em and form an Army Camel Corps.”

  “Really?” exclaimed Pearl with a chuckle. “I’d never heard of that.”

  “It’s true. One group was stationed in Texas and another was headed for California. But the Civil War was loomin’ and Congress wasn’t inclined to import more camels. Also, the mule breeders were already established and weren’t particularly fond of these newer, bigger animals. So the program was dropped, and when fightin’ broke out the Confederates captured the Texas herd and let most of it loose. The rest were sold off to frontier businessmen, traveling circuses, and suchlike.”

  Pearl listened, enamored. “That is a fantastic story. It seems too strange to be true, but I suppose it must be – how else could a camel find its way here? Did the man say how the creature managed to get that devilish rider on its back?”

  Hank shook his head. “Nope. I guess we’ll have to get the bones off his back to even guess. Probably some poor sap got drunk, tried to catch and ride the animal and got stuck in all those straps or had some other kind of misadventure. His days ended on the back of a camel.”