Pearl

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  There had been a time when he spent his nights huddled in darkness, eyes wide, senses alert, too afraid to even light a fire for warmth. A man in a boy’s body. His childhood swept away by a single mindless act. But Onyx Jewel had changed all that. He’d taken a chance when all others had turned their backs. And, with patience, had given Cal back his self-respect. And his soul.

  Deep in thought, Cal reined in his mount. Rolling a cigarette, he held a match to the tip. The light flared briefly before being extinguished. He drew smoke into his lungs, then watched it dissipate into the night air.

  He found himself in a thoughtful, contemplative mood. He’d never dreamed his life could be so rewarding. He directed an empire. He had the respect of his men. The hard work, the demands of the land, satisfied him. And yet...He struggled with vaguely unsettling feelings.

  Onyx would say it was just man’s nature. There was always one more mountain to climb. One more challenge to meet.

  On a sigh of impatience, Cal exhaled a cloud of smoke and tossed the butt aside. He’d had enough challenges to last him a lifetime. All he wanted now was some peace. And time to enjoy the fruits of his labors.

  Still, he’d found his long evening talks with Onyx Jewel stimulating. No one had ever taken the time to open up to him before. Or to listen. The exchange of ideas, the flow of good conversation, had been food for a starving soul. He missed Onyx. Every day. Felt empty sometimes, when he realized there was no one else with whom he could ever converse so freely. No one else who knew him so well. Who understood where he’d come from. No one else who cared about the boy he’d been and the man he’d become.

  He urged his horse into a slow, easy gait. No need to rush back. He’d already missed supper. But Cookie could be counted on to have a few biscuits left in his chuck wagon. Not to mention a couple of slices of dried beef.

  As he crested a ridge, he was surprised to see a flicker of light in the deserted cabin. At that moment, Pearl emerged, carrying a parcel. She placed it in the back of the rig. As he urged his mount closer, she made several more trips from the cabin to the cart.

  “Putting in long days, aren’t you?”

  “Oh.” When she spotted Cal, astride his horse in the shadows, her hand went to her throat in a gesture of surprise. “I didn’t hear you approach. How long have you been out here?”

  “Long enough that if I intended you harm, it would already be an accomplished deed.” He could see that his words caused her alarm. He hadn’t intended to frighten her. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. There was something about this woman that always brought out the worst in him.

  Her chin lifted in that infuriating manner. “I doubt there are many madmen loose on the Jewel ranch.”

  “Not now, maybe. But who’s to say what tomorrow will bring?”

  “Instead of dwelling on the worst that might happen, I prefer to think about the best.” She latched the door and climbed into the rig.

  He surprised her by tying his horse behind the wagon and climbing up beside her. In answer to her unspoken question, he muttered, “Since we’re both heading in the same direction, it’s best if we ride together.”

  With a flick of the reins, they started off.

  The cart danced over the ruts, causing little tendrils of her hair to flutter at the temples.

  “Have you given any more thought to what I said the other morning?”

  She nodded. “I’ve thought of little else. And I’m sorry if I’ve exposed our land to any danger. But I won’t be swayed from my course. I intend to teach the children. And for now, this is the best place to hold classes.”

  “Then I won’t put any more barriers in your path,” he said simply.

  She was stunned. “Cal, do you mean it?”

  He nodded, unsure of just how or when he’d come to this decision. Though he’d been mulling it over the past few days, he hadn’t really known until that moment what he’d say. “But be warned. If I find the townspeople taking advantage of this opportunity and encroaching on our land, I’ll convince Diamond and the others to shut down your schoolhouse. Agreed?”

  Her voice softened in the darkness. “That’s more than fair, Cal. I agree.”

  She felt as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from her shoulders. For the moment, it would seem, she and Cal McCabe had reached some sort of tentative truce.

  Of course, things were far from comfortable between them. In fact, if anything, they seemed to be tiptoeing around each other, like two prickly rivals. But she wouldn’t dwell on that. For now, for the moment, Cal had called a halt to their battle.

  With a light heart, Pearl watched as darkness settled over the land. A full moon sent ribbons of gold trailing across the hills.

  “What do you do for days on end when you stay with the herd?” She’d been harboring the nagging little fear that it was the cross words spoken between them that had kept him away so long.

  “There are so many chores, I usually don’t know where to begin. The cattle keep me busy, of course. And when I’m left on my own, I have to hunt or go without supper. My sleep is always disturbed. Most nights I’m up a couple of times, fending off scavengers. Wolves,” he added, “or maybe a wildcat that wants a quick meal of tender, helpless calf.”

  Pearl found herself studying Cal’s big, callused hands as they guided the reins. In everything he did, he seemed so sure and confident. He made it all look so easy. The operation of this vast empire. The million and one chores needed to keep everything going.

  She had seen the way the cowboys looked to him for guidance, for advice. And the way they avoided facing him when they knew they’d made an error in judgment. He could be as tough as he was fair. And as unforgiving as an avenging angel when he’d been wronged.

  “I hope I’m not keeping you from something important right now,” she said.

  He shook his head. “The chores will be there tomorrow.”

  They rode some distance in silence.

  A mournful howl pierced the night air, and Pearl shivered.

  “No need to be afraid,” Cal said softly. “It’s just a lonesome coyote singing to his mate.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “If you live here long enough, you’ll learn to sort through the different sounds. The hiss of a rattler, the growl of a wolf, the cry of a mountain cat.”

  She drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Are you trying to frighten me more?”

  “Not at all.” He turned his head. “Are you afraid?”

  She shrugged. “Texas is wild and strange. There are so many things out here that I don’t know about. Wild animals. Inhospitable weather.”

  His shoulder brushed hers as he guided the team over the rough terrain. “It’s natural to be afraid of what you don’t understand. But whether you’re in a civilized city like Boston, or the hills of Texas, the biggest danger is always the same.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “It isn’t the animals or the weather. It’s always people. People who’ve been through a bloody war and haven’t learned to put the hatred and fear behind them. People who shoot first and ask questions later. People who just hate.”

  She thought about some she’d known in her childhood. Though they hadn’t carried guns, they’d used their words like weapons, to wound, to destroy confidence.

  “What causes people to be cruel?” she wondered aloud.

  “Jealousy.” He spoke the word like a curse. “They’re jealous of those who’ve prospered while they’re going hungry. Jealous of those who’ve succeeded while they’ve failed. Some are just jealous for the sake of jealousy. And there’s no reasoning with them. That jealousy and hatred festers until they go mad with it.” His tone changed, lowered, until his voice throbbed with passion. “It’s always the innocent who are made to suffer at the hands of such people.”

  She glanced at his hard, chiseled profile and sensed that he’d had more than a passing acquaintance with the subject.

  Without warnin
g, he said, “I’d like you to learn how to handle a rifle.”

  “A rifle?” She turned to him, shocked at his suggestion. “I...couldn’t.”

  “Sure you could. It isn’t that hard. I could teach you.”

  “No.” She spoke the word quickly. “I won’t. You can’t make me.”

  “Listen to me, Pearl,” he said calmly, reasonably. “You’re going to be isolated. Too far from the ranch house to call for help. And too far from the nearest rancher. You’ll have to depend on yourself.”

  She continued shaking her head. “Absolutely not. I won’t even consider the idea.”

  He sucked in an angry breath. Obstinate little fool.

  Defeated, he centered all his attention on the task of guiding the horse and rig across the rushing waters of Poison Creek.

  “Creek’s high,” he muttered as water sloshed over their boots. He was determined to find some common ground where they might talk without fighting. “Snow’s melting up on Widow’s Peak. That’s good for the ranchers.”

  She seemed equally determined to avoid another battle. “Why?” she asked.

  “Water’s the lifeblood of the cattle rancher. Without it, we could lose an entire herd in one season.”

  “Has that ever happened?”

  He nodded. “We suffered through a drought in ’63. Onyx wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold on to the ranch. By the time the rains finally came, Poison Creek had been reduced to a dry gulch and we’d lost all but remnants of the herds up in the foothills.”

  “What did Daddy do?” Pearl asked in alarm.

  “He had to let the wranglers go. Couldn’t pay them,” Cal added when she glanced at him in surprise.

  Pearl watched as he urged the horse up the steep banks of the creek. But it wasn’t the progress of the horse and rig that held her attention; it was the muscles of Cal’s arms, rippling with each movement. He had such incredible strength. Such power. And yet, for all his toughness, there was an aura of calm capability, of quiet authority, about him. She knew, from things she’d heard, that the wranglers respected him. She knew, too, that he could be quick with fist or gun. But she suspected that such things would be a last resort with Cal McCabe. He was a man of few words. But when he spoke, others listened respectfully.

  “How did the Jewel ranch survive?” she asked.

  “Your father sent me to sweep the north and east ranges, while he rode the south and west. When we brought back the few stragglers who’d survived the drought, we had a herd of less than a hundred.”

  “You stayed? I thought you said my father couldn’t pay his wranglers. How could he pay you?” Pearl asked.

  Cal gave a short laugh. “I didn’t stay with Onyx Jewel for money.” His tone roughened. “I’d have walked through fire for that man.”

  They fell silent for a few minutes, as the horse and rig neared the ranch. But now it was a comfortable silence. Onyx Jewel was someone they had both loved. And both had suffered his loss.

  Lanternlight filtered through the curtained windows of the big house. The haunting notes of a mouth organ could be heard drifting faintly from the bunkhouse.

  “It’s hard to believe my father almost lost all of this,” she said softly.

  Cal nodded, enjoying, as he always did, the beauty, the serenity of the scene. “Onyx mortgaged everything, then went to St. Louis and brought back the finest bull money could buy. We built breeding pens, and even Diamond and Carmelita were pressed into service when the calves were born. Onyx was determined that his cattle would be the sturdiest, the healthiest, in all of Texas. And they were, because they’d come from sturdy survivors. Within five years, the herd numbered more than a thousand. And Onyx lived to see his dream fulfilled.”

  “I’m glad,” she whispered. “But he couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Oh, Onyx would have managed, even if he was the last man on earth.” Cal drew on the reins, bringing the horse and rig to a stop at the back door. He stepped down, then offered a hand to her. “Your father was an extraordinary man, Pearl. I wish you could have known him the way I did.”

  “So do I. You don’t know how it grieves me that I was denied the chance to really know my own father.” She held out her hand and caught up the hem of her skirt, preparing to climb down.

  She was startled when she felt herself lifted in Cal’s powerful arms. He scooped her from the rig and held her as easily as if she weighed nothing at all. For the space of a heartbeat, he held her slightly above him, so that she was forced to look down at him. Then he lowered her slowly, so slowly that time seemed to stand still. Their gazes locked, and she felt a sizzling current go through her at the intensity of his look. Fear? she wondered. Or anticipation? She sensed that he was going to kiss her again. And though in her heart she wanted desperately to feel his lips on hers, her common sense told her she had to resist.

  Cal, too, seemed torn. It would be an easy matter to steal a kiss. Held helplessly in his arms, Pearl was in no position to refuse. And if she was any other female, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought. He was, after all, a man with a healthy appetite. But this was Pearl Jewel. The daughter of the man to whom he owed more than life itself. Besides, she wasn’t like other women. After just one taste, he’d come to realize that she was more potent than Buck’s whiskey. He could never dally with this woman. Or walk away, once he’d begun.

  But, oh, the temptation was great.

  He continued to lower her, and she absorbed a tingle along her spine as her breasts brushed his chest. And then he set her on her feet, and she had the strangest sensation that the ground was shifting and tilting beneath her.

  “I’ll see to your horse and rig.”

  Even after he released her, she could feel the warmth of his touch against her flesh.

  “Thank you. Good night, Cal.”

  She stood at the door a moment, watching as he climbed to the seat and caught the reins. He gave a tip of his hat before blending into the shadows.

  It occurred to her that he had offered her much more tonight than just his approval for the schoolhouse. By sharing his memories of her father, he had reached out a tentative hand of friendship.

  Still, there was something there, just below the surface, that disturbed her. Something raw and primitive. Something dark and dangerous. And, though he kept it carefully controlled, she could sense it.

  Unleashed, it could consume them both.

  Chapter Five

  The sky was a dark, churning blue. A mild spring morning, though the air hinted of cool winds and distant storms.

  Pearl took pains with her appearance this morning, knowing she would be the object of much speculation at Sunday services. She fumbled with the buttons of her buttercup-yellow gown. Where had the week gone? She wasn’t nearly ready for school to begin. Oh, why had she sent that letter to Reverend Weston, promising to start tomorrow?

  Because she had wanted to get even with Cal for taking up a position against her. And now she would have to pay the price for her act of defiance.

  Cal. The very thought of him had her insides turning to mush. Though she was intimidated by him, she was determined not to let him know it.

  As she descended the stairs, she was surprised to see Jade and Ruby, dressed in their Sunday best.

  “Wherever are you going?” she asked.

  “To town with you.” Jade smoothed down the sheath of pale green silk and added a matching coat lined in deep green. Like the gown, it had a mandarin collar and a frog closing, and was slit on either side to the knee to allow for easier walking.

  “But why? You’ve never gone before.”

  “We talked it over, chérie.” Ruby gave a deep, throaty laugh. “And decided that you should not have to face the townspeople alone. Are we not family?” She tossed a fringed shawl across her shoulders, adding a touch of modesty to the low-necked, figure-hugging gown of crimson satin. “Let them see that the Jewel sisters stand together.”

  “And if anyone should malign our good name,
” Jade said in her soft, melodious voice, “they will find themselves against three dangerous opponents.”

  With a lighthearted laugh, Pearl linked her arms with theirs. This was her father’s greatest gift to her. Sisters.

  When a clatter marked the arrival of their horse and carnage, they walked outside, and were surprised to see Cal.

  “What are you doing in the carriage?” Pearl asked. “Why didn’t you leave that for one of the wranglers?” Again that flutter in the pit of her stomach. And again she had to struggle to calm herself.

  “I’m driving you ladies to Sunday services.” He stepped down and helped them get settled.

  At the touch of his hand at her elbow, she felt her skin soften and heat. She glanced at his hard, chiseled profile. If he felt it, he gave no indication.

  He climbed aboard and flicked the reins. “Before she left, Diamond reminded me that now that I’m part owner of the Jewel ranch, I have an obligation to act the part.”

  “You mean this is to become a weekly ritual, mon cher?” Ruby’s eyes lit with laughter.

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t go that far. Most weeks, I’m up on the range with one of the herds. But I guess whenever I’m around I’ll have to sit through an hour of Reverend Weston’s famous sermons.”

  “You won’t be sorry,” Pearl assured him.

  “I’m not sure about that. I think I’m already sorry.” To soften his words, he winked, and she felt her heart tumble. “But I can’t forget your father’s example. As busy as he was, Onyx always managed to find time on Sunday to attend services. The least I can do is follow his lead.”

  Pearl had no idea why Cal’s presence should make her heart feel so light. But suddenly the morning had taken on a festive air. There was nothing the townspeople could say or do that would spoil her day.

  The gilt carriage, with its matched white horses, had belonged to Jade’s mother. At the news of her father’s death, she had driven it all the way from San Francisco. Though it looked as out of place in this dusty landscape as the three women who rode in it, they took no notice. Instead, as they rolled across the countryside, they found themselves laughing and chatting like carefree children.