“What is that?” Jade asked, pointing to a tall column of rocks in the distance.
“Dead Man’s Leap,” Cal replied.
Ruby shivered. “Mon Dieu! Did a man really leap to his death from those rocks?”
“Legend has it that a Comanche chief lost his heart to a woman who had promised her love to another. So the chief spirited her away to the top of that pile of rocks and forced her to remain there until she agreed to be his. In desperation, she leaped, choosing death over a loveless union. But the gods, taking pity on her, turned her into an eagle, and as the chief watched, she spread her wings and flew back to her beloved. The chief followed, expecting the gods to bless him, as well. But instead of sprouting wings, he fell to his death.”
“That’s so sad,” Pearl cried.
“Oh, chérie. It is just a story.”
“I suppose so. But why must everything in this place reflect such unhappiness?” Pearl shivered. “Poison Creek. Widow’s Peak. And now Dead Man’s Leap.”
“Life has always been hard for the people who forged new trails,” Cal said. “And it’s the saddest and most dramatic events that get repeated over and over until they become legends.”
“But weren’t there any happy events in this place?” Pearl folded her arms across her chest. “Must everything be so dreary?”
“You are right, chérie,” Ruby said, with laughter bubbling in her throat. “We will give them new names. How about Nectar of the Gods Creek?”
“And Cupid’s Peak,” Jade added, getting into the spirit of things.
“Why not Lovers’ Tower?” Pearl mused.
“And Sweetheart’s Ridge,” Ruby shouted, enjoying the way her voice bounced and echoed off the surrounding buttes.
The air rang with their laughter, as they gave improbable names to every hill and gully in the area.
Though Cal didn’t join in the silliness, it was clear from the way he bit back a smile that he was enjoying himself. More, he was enjoying a side of Pearl he rarely saw.
By the time they arrived in town, they had laughed and shouted so much, it was an effort to settle down. They were still smiling as Cal helped them from the carriage and they made their way to the back room of Durfee’s Mercantile for Sunday services.
Pearl saw the way heads turned when they entered. The Jewel sisters were still objects of curiosity to the townspeople. And when Cal McCabe trailed after them and took his seat, a murmur went up in the crowd. He took no notice as he removed his wide-brimmed hat and nodded greetings to several of the ranchers.
“Morning, Cal.” Marshal Quent Regan took a seat beside him and leaned over to mutter, “Morning, ladies.”
“Good morning, Marshal,” they said in unison.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Cal.”
“I don’t know why. You’re here, aren’t you?”
The two men shared a laugh.
Cal glanced around. “It looks like word of the reverend’s rousing sermons is spreading. He’s got a full house.”
“I haven’t decided yet if it’s Reverend Weston’s sermons that fill this room every week, or the chance to see so many pretty ladies all in one place.” The marshal cast an admiring glance at the three Jewel sisters, then quickly looked away when Ruby shot him a sultry smile.
The crowd fell silent when Reverend Wade Weston walked in and strode to the front of the room. Even his dark suit and starched white shirt couldn’t conceal the ripple of muscles. Hair the color of a golden halo fell nearly to his shoulders. More than a few young women, as well as several of their mothers, were heard to sigh. After leading them in song, he signaled for them to be seated. And for the next half hour they listened attentively as his rich voice rolled over them, exhorting them to love one another and to forgive one another. At the end of his rousing sermon, the congregation were on their feet, singing with even greater fervor.
When Jade and Ruby shared a songbook, Pearl had no choice but to share hers with Cal. As their hands brushed, she glanced up to find him looking down at her. She looked away quickly. With heat staining her cheeks, she joined in the singing, and was surprised to hear Cal’s rich, deep voice blending perfectly with hers.
When the song ended, Reverend Weston announced, “For those who haven’t heard, Miss Pearl Jewel will open her schoolhouse tomorrow. Classes will be held in the old cabin, located on the north ridge of the Jewel ranch, just across the banks of Poison Creek. All are welcome.”
He walked to the doorway and began greeting the members of his congregation as they took their leave. When Pearl stood before him, her hand was engulfed in a warm, firm handshake.
“Do you think anyone will show up tomorrow, Reverend Weston?” she asked.
“I certainly hope so,” he replied. “It would be a shame if the children of Hanging Tree couldn’t take advantage of your generous gift.”
As she followed her sisters from the mercantile, a little boy who’d been standing to one side tugged on her skirt. His arms were painfully thin, and his clothes were patched and faded. His fine blond hair was in need of a trim. She recognized him at once as Rollie Ingram’s son. As usual, the Ingram family had not been at services.
“Are you a princess?” he asked.
Pearl knelt, so that her eyes were level with his. “No. I’m not a princess. I’m a teacher.” She solemnly offered her hand. “My name is Miss Pearl Jewel. What is yours?”
“Daniel.”
His hands, she noted, hadn’t seen soap or water in a very long time. Dirt and grime seemed to have settled deep in his sunburned skin. “Would you like me to teach you to read and write, Daniel?”
He nodded his head, afraid to speak. At last, finding his tongue, he managed to say, “Before she died, my ma showed me a picture of a princess. She looked just like you, only not as pretty.”
“Why, thank you, Daniel.” Still clutching his hand, Pearl gave him her sweetest smile. “I’ll bet your mama was pretty, too.”
“Yes’m. Gilbert says she’s with the angels now.”
They both looked up as a shadow fell over them. For a moment Daniel cringed, then, seeing that it was his older brother, he gave him a wide smile. “Gilbert, this is Miss Pearl Jewel. She’s the new teacher. She said she could teach me to read and write.”
Pearl got to her feet and brushed down her skirts. With a smile, she held out her hand. “Hello, Gil...”
“It’s Gilbert.” Though the older boy couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen, he already stood a head taller than her. He resembled his father, with hair that was thick and dark and curly, and shoulders almost as broad as a man’s. He avoided looking at her. Instead, he frowned at his little brother. “Pa’s mad as a hornet,” he said in a furious whisper. “Get in the back of the wagon, and don’t say anything to rile him.”
“But...”
“Come on now.” He pushed the little boy ahead of him.
Pearl noticed that he kept his hands on Daniel’s shoulders, steering him to the back of a rickety wagon and settling him amid some sacks of flour and sugar.
Without a backward glance, he pulled himself up to the seat beside his father. The horse and wagon took off in a cloud of dust.
“Looks like I just lost my first student,” she said.
“Maybe it’s just as well,” Cal muttered, watching the wagon until it disappeared over a ridge. “That’s one man I’d rather not have on Jewel property.”
Just then, he heard a feminine voice calling his name. He glanced up to see a dark-haired young woman in a flimsy wrap waving her hand from an upstairs window of Buck’s saloon. A slight red flush crept up his neck.
“I believe that young lady is calling you.” Jade’s eyes twinkled with humor at Cal’s discomfort.
“Come on,” he added tersely. “It’s time we took our leave.”
As he turned away, Millie Potter, who owned the boardinghouse at the end of town, stepped directly in front of him. From behind her skirts peeked three little girls, all with their mother�
�s curly red hair and freckled noses.
“Good morning, Cal. I knew you were back. At least I’d heard you’d been to town.” She glanced toward Buck’s with a look of distaste. “But it’s been a long time since you graced my boardinghouse.”
“’Morning, Milhe.” He removed his hat and held it stiffly in one hand before winking at the three girls, who giggled and hid their faces. “Hello April, May and June. Say hello to Miss Pearl, Miss Jade and Miss Ruby.”
The three children blushed beet red and ducked behind their mother’s skirts.
“Children, mind your manners.” At a stern word from their pretty mother, the three children stepped forward and made a slight bow. They appeared to be about five, six and seven.
“How do, Miss Pearl. Miss Jade. Miss Ruby,” they called before ducking away again.
Cal cleared his throat, uncomfortable, in the silence that followed. “With Onyx gone, there’s a lot needing my attention out at the ranch.”
“Yes. I’m sure of that. Still, we miss you.” Millie Potter shot a swift, fleeting smile toward the three women, allowing her gaze to linger a moment on Pearl, who stood to one side of Cal. “I was hoping you’d find time to come by for a while. I have a pot of stew simmering. And fresh biscuits I baked early this morning.”
Before Cal could politely refuse, Ruby stepped forward. “Oh, yes. Please, Cal. It is such a long ride back to the ranch. And we have so few opportunities to visit with the people of Hanging Tree.”
“Marshal Regan always takes his meal with us on Sunday. So does the Reverend Weston,” Millie urged.
Cal glanced at the families seated in grassy areas around the mercantile, enjoying baskets of cold chicken and jugs of buttermilk, while children chased each other in games of tag. He thought of all the chores needing his attention back at the ranch. Then he saw the eager looks of the three Jewel women.
“I suppose, since it’s Sunday...” Seeing Millie’s wide, expectant smile, he added, “You folks can go ahead.”
Millie shot an arched look toward Buck’s saloon. Seeing it, he added quickly, “I have a few supplies to pick up at Durfee’s, and I’ll be along in a little while.”
Satisfied, she nodded. “Fine. We’ll see you at my place.” With her daughters in tow, Millie hitched up her skirts and headed briskly along the wooden walkway, greeting friends as she went. The three Jewel sisters followed in her wake, aware that they were being watched with every step they took.
Potter’s Boardinghouse was a large, cheery place, with a formal front parlor boasting a horsehair sofa and several overstuffed chairs set around a stone fireplace. Millie led them past the parlor, toward the rear of the house, where the air was sweet with the aroma of cooking. In the dining room, a long table had already been set for company, with starched white linens and an assortment of mismatched dishes and cutlery. On a sideboard was a jug holding a bouquet of wildflowers, set amid several towel-draped mounds. Millie removed the towels to reveal loaves of freshly baked breads and cakes.
“You must have been working since dawn,” Pearl remarked.
“I actually started last night,” the young woman admitted. “Sunday is a big day here at my place. Many of the ranchers bring their own baskets of food. But those who have no wives to cook for them usually eat here after Sunday services.”
A girl of twelve or thirteen poked her head out of the kitchen. “Stew’s ready,” she called. “And your chicken and biscuits are done to perfection, Mrs. Potter.”
“Thanks, Birdie.” Millie nodded toward her three guests. “Birdie Bidwell, meet Miss Pearl Jewel, Miss Jade Jewel and Miss Ruby Jewel.”
The girl’s eyes widened. The Jewel women were the closest thing Hanging Tree had to royalty.
“Hello, Birdie.” Pearl stuck out her hand, and the girl self-consciously wiped her hands on her big, stained apron before accepting her handshake.
“You’re the teacher lady,” Birdie said.
“Yes. That is, if anyone shows up to be taught.”
“I wish my girls could attend,” Millie said wistfully.
“Why can’t they?” Pearl asked.
“It’s just too far. They’re too young to travel that distance alone. And with my husband dead these past five years, I can’t spare the time every day.”
“How about you, Birdie?” Pearl turned to Millie’s young assistant.
Birdie sadly shook her head. “I surely would like to learn to read and write. But I got to earn my keep.” She went back to the kitchen.
When the door closed behind her, Millie said softly, “Birdie’s father was thrown from a horse more than a year ago. His broken bones mended, but Doc Prentice can’t fix his back. He hasn’t been able to work since the accident. Even though I can’t afford to pay Birdie very much, it’s a help to her ma just to pay her something. And though she’s clumsy, the girl has a big heart.”
“I see.” Once again, Pearl felt the distance between herself and these people created by her father’s wealth. “Could we give you a hand before the others get here?”
“Oh, no. You’re paying guests.” Millie reached for their shawls. When they relinquished them, she carried them to the front hall and draped them over wooden pegs. “Make yourselves comfortable in the dining room, and I’ll have Birdie serve you some tea.
“But we would like to help, chérie!” Ruby exclaimed.
“I won’t hear of it.”
Before they could argue, a knock sounded on the front door. Looking almost relieved, Millie Potter invited them to take their seats at the table while she hurried from the room.
Soon the sounds of men’s voices signaled the arrival of the rest of her guests.
“Something smells wonderful,” Marshal Regan said as he removed his gunbelt and hat and hung them on a peg. “I think you’ve made my favorite stew, Millie.”
“And cinnamon biscuits,” Reverend Weston added. “Nothing perfumes the air like your cinnamon biscuits.”
Millie’s laughter trilled as she led them along the hallway and into the dining room. It was obvious, from the way she handled the introductions, that she was a woman who was comfortable in the presence of men. When everyone was seated, she made her way to the kitchen. Just as Millie and Birdie began serving the meal, Cal arrived.
“You’re just in time,” Millie said in an admonishing tone.
“A few minutes longer and I’d have had your share,” Marshal Regan said with a laugh.
Cal took a seat beside Pearl. Once again she absorbed the shock of his thigh brushing hers, and the touch of his shoulder against hers. It occurred to her that it was not an altogether unpleasant sensation. It was one that she might learn to enjoy, if she could only relax in his presence.
As he ladled stew onto his plate, Millie paused beside him and set down a plate of chopped chili peppers. With an air of easy familiarity, she dropped a hand on his shoulder and murmured, “I guess I know your taste by now, Cal.”
“That’s right,” Marshal Quent Regan said. His words brought knowing laughter from the others. “Nothing bland for a man like Cal McCabe. He likes his food the way he likes his life. And we all know what that is.”
Millie finished for him. “The spicier the better.”
Chapter Six
The spicier the better.
Conversation swirled around Pearl, but she was hardly aware of it. She seemed unable to get beyond one inescapable fact. She had been fooling herself. Tempting herself with the idea that a man like Cal McCabe could be interested in someone like her.
She had never had any illusions about herself. She was aware that, in a world filled with dangerous, exciting people, she was easily overlooked. She had always been the good daughter, doing as she was told. The good student, following the rules. The good citizen, living by the law. It never occurred to her to rebel, to be defiant. She couldn’t help the way she was. She knew what others thought of her. Prim. Proper. What was the word Millie Potter had used? Bland. Certainly not spicy. The only bold thing she’d ever
attempted was this trip to Texas. And every day she found herself questioning that decision.
She sat locked in misery as Millie laughed and chatted. And flirted shamelessly with Cal and the other men.
“There’s been a good bit of interest in your school, Miss Pearl.”
At the sound of Reverend Weston’s voice, Pearl roused herself from her thoughts. “Interest, perhaps. But so far, no one has promised to attend.”
“It’s a long way for children to ride,” Millie Potter said. “I can’t, in good conscience, let my three girls travel that far alone. And I’ve heard several other townspeople say the same.”
Pearl had a sudden inspiration. “What if the townspeople could transport them all together in one wagon?”
Millie’s brows lifted. “What an interesting thought...”
Marshal Regan nodded. “If several of the families took turns hauling the children to school and back, it wouldn’t feel like such a burden.”
Reverend Weston nodded. “It’s a fine idea, Miss Pearl. Before this day is over, I intend to discuss it with as many families as I can.”
Beside her, she could feel Cal’s probing stare. She lowered her head and took a bite of stew. It was the best she’d ever tasted. Which was one more reason not to like Millie Potter. But the truth was, she couldn’t deny the fact that she liked this young woman. Pearl admired the way she held her family together, despite the loss of her husband. Five years alone, Millie had said. A long time for a pretty young woman to survive m this tough town, and to raise three daughters. No wonder she found all the men so charming and interesting. She saw them all as potential husbands. And from the looks of things, she would have her pick of them. She had everything to offer a man. A cozy home. A ready-made family. A respectable standing in the community.
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