Pearl

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  “Here you all are. What an adventure your first day of school has turned out to be,” Pearl said when she managed to find her voice. “It’s lucky for all of us that Mr. McCabe happened by.”

  She indicated the door. “If you’d like to go inside, children, find a desk, and I’ll be along in a minute.”

  Chattering happily, the children filed past her. Through the open door she could hear them exclaim at their first glimpse of a real schoolhouse.

  Cal climbed down from the wagon to retrieve his horse.

  “How did you happen to come upon the children?” She kept her voice low, so that she wouldn’t be overheard in the classroom.

  He shrugged. “Just crossed their path by accident.”

  “Accident?” She stepped closer. “You told me you were heading to the north ridge today.”

  He nodded.

  “You’re talking to a teacher, Cal. North is that way.” She pointed. “There is no way you could have come upon the children. Unless you went out of your way to look for them.”

  When he said nothing in his own defense, she pressed him. “Were you looking for them?”

  He pulled himself into the saddle, still trying to evade the question. “I...noticed that your schoolhouse was empty.”

  “You’ve been watching me?”

  “You’re alone. Unarmed. And isolated. I see it as my duty to look out for you.”

  “But if no one had come, you would have been proven right.” She stared up at him. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  He winked unexpectedly, and her heart did a series of somersaults. “I didn’t want to see all that hard work go to waste. After all, I invested some time and effort, too.”

  He touched a hand to the brim of his hat. “Better get to work, teacher. Looks like you’ll have your hands full with a roomful of students.”

  With a smile of pure joy touching her lips, she watched him ride off. Then she turned and made her way inside.

  Chapter Eight

  “Are we going to do sums?” Bartholomew Adams asked eagerly. He had chosen the first seat, closest to Pearl’s desk. From his wide smile and pleasant manner, Pearl decided that this boy was happy to attend school. He might prove helpful in stimulating the minds of the other students.

  “I don’t think there will be time for that today,” Pearl said gently. “Perhaps we should settle for getting acquainted, since the day is almost over.” She studied the faces turned to her with a mixture of eagerness and curiosity.

  “Let’s begin with you, Bart. Tell me about yourself. How old are you?”

  “I’m eight. But my pa says I’m big for my age. We own a spread over on the far side of Widow’s Peak. And every winter, after the crops are harvested and the cattle driven to Abilene, my pa helps out by cutting timber up in the hills, and I stay home with my ma and two baby sisters and try to keep up with the chores.”

  “I’ll bet your folks appreciate your help. Welcome, Bart.”

  Pearl turned to the bigger boy, who had taken a seat in the back of the row. “How about you, Travis?”

  The boy got respectfully to his feet. “I’m Travis Worthing. I’ll be thirteen soon, and my pa says I won’t have much need for schooling, what with all the chores. I can’t come to school every day, but I’ll come whenever I can.” His voice trailed off as he added, “I’m only here because my ma wants me to master reading and writing.”

  “That’s a fine goal, Travis. You’re welcome to come whenever you can manage.”

  He smiled weakly and took his seat. Pearl realized that he would rather be weeding a field or mending a fence than sitting here in school. She whispered a word of gratitude that his mother valued an education.

  She directed her words to the young girl seated in front of Travis. “Tell me about yourself, Birdie.”

  The girl lumbered to her feet, standing as straight and tall as she could manage. “My real name’s Bertha. Bertha Bidwell. But when I was little, I couldn’t say Bertha. And the name Birdie stuck. Now I don’t even think of myself as Bertha. Just Birdie. I’m almost twelve. My ma taught me how to write a few words, like my name, and my ma’s name and such. I can read a few simple things, like Wanted posters. But I surely would like to read whole sentences, and maybe even books.” She shrugged. “That’s why I’m here. But, like Travis, I won’t be coming every day. My folks need me at home to help with the chores. And I lend a hand at Mrs. Potter’s place whenever she needs me.”

  She sat down, and Pearl glanced at the three little Potter girls. They kept their heads bowed, refusing to look her in the eye.

  “Well, that leaves April, May and June,” she said gently. “Which of you would like to go first?”

  The three glanced at each other, then away. It was the youngest, June, who finally scrambled to her feet.

  “My name is June Potter,” she said in a tiny voice. “I’m five years old.”

  “Thank you, June. That was very brave,” Pearl said.

  She glanced at the other two. With reluctance, the middle girl stood. “My name is May Potter. I’m six years old. And my ma runs the boardinghouse in town.”

  “Welcome, May.” Pearl turned to the last sister.

  She got slowly to her feet. “My name is April Potter. I’m seven. I don’t have a pa.”

  I don’t have a pa.

  Pearl realized that this little girl thought those words defined her. As the oldest, she would be able to remember a few things about her father. And feel the pain of loss more strongly than her younger sisters.

  “I lost my father, too,” Pearl found herself saying tenderly. “And I miss him very much.”

  The little girl looked at her in astonishment.

  “Now,” she went on, more briskly, “it’s my turn. My name is Miss Pearl Jewel.” She held up her slate, so that all could read it. “My home was in Boston, until recently. I’m new to Texas, and there is much I don’t know about my new home. So you’ll be able to teach me while I’m teaching you.”

  A current of excitement rippled through the children. It hadn’t occurred to them that they might also be teachers.

  “I’d like each of you to take up your slate and write as much of your name as you can manage. When you finish, bring it to my desk and I’ll check it.”

  The room fell silent while the children did as they were told. The minutes drifted by as Pearl checked each slate and offered words of encouragement. Then she formed the letters she wanted them to work on before the next class.

  The day was quickly coming to an end. Pearl was aware of the long trek these children still had to make, and the chores that would be awaiting them when they arrived at home. Still, she held off the moment when she would send them on their way. Instead, choosing a well-thumbed book from the shelf, she announced, “I’d like to introduce you to something. I thought I’d read from it before we end our first day of school.”

  In a clear voice she read, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Darkness covered the abyss, and the spirit of God was stirring above the waters. God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light. God separated the light from the darkness, calling the light Day and the darkness Night. And there was evening and morning, the first day.”

  She looked up. The children were staring at her as if she’d spoken a foreign language.

  “These are the first words in the Bible,” she explained. “Taken from the Book of Genesis, describing the creation. It is my hope that, if you and I persevere together, you will one day read these words for yourself.”

  “You mean—” Birdie’s voice was incredulous “—someday I’ll be able to read the whole Bible to my ma and pa?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.” Pearl closed the book and set it on the shelf. Touching the books beside it she added, “And the sonnets of William Shakespeare. The words of the world’s greatest poets. Once you know how to read words, you can read anything.”

  As young as they were, the children seemed to understand the importa
nce of what she had just said. There was an audible sigh from Birdie.

  Pearl cast a glance out the window and said, “Now it’s time you headed home.”

  The children gathered up their slates and made their way to the wagon. Birdie and Bart helped the smaller girls up before climbing into the back of the wagon. Travis pulled himself onto the seat and took up the reins.

  “Goodbye, children,” Pearl called. “I hope I’ll see some of you tomorrow.”

  “Bye, Miss Jewel,” came the chorus of voices as the horse and wagon jolted off at a slow, lumbering pace.

  Pearl waved until the wagon crested a hill and disappeared from view. Hurrying inside, she looked around at the now empty room. It looked the same as it had yesterday, with the neat row of desks, the shelf of books. The scents of woodsmoke and beeswax and polish were the same, as well. And yet, in the space of a few hours, everything had changed. This wasn’t just a deserted cabin now. It was a living, breathing place, filled with the presence of curious children, eager to learn.

  She had changed, as well, she knew. She no longer felt useless. She had a reason, a purpose, for each day. She would feed hungry minds. And if she was very lucky, some of them would be forever changed because of what she would do here.

  “Oh, Daddy,” she breathed. “Can you feel it? Can you feel the new life here in your old cabin?”

  Her heart felt filled to overflowing with emotions so powerful she couldn’t contain them. All the tears that had been held back throughout the long day suddenly welled up, spilling down her cheeks.

  Standing all alone in the middle of her schoolroom, she wept for sheer joy.

  Cal peered through the window at the figure seated at her desk. A single lantern at her elbow illuminated the darkness. She flipped through the pages of a book before stopping to write something on her slate.

  Cal had taken a detour past the school, expecting to find it in darkness. Instead, she was still here, all alone, miles from home. He felt a rush of emotion. Not protectiveness, he told himself. Anger. Anger at her carelessness. At her refusal to take the proper precautions for her own safety.

  But as he studied her, his anger quickly evaporated. He lingered outside another moment, enjoying the sight of her in the lantern’s glow. Soft little tendrils of hair had fallen from the neat knot at her nape to drift around her cheeks and forehead. She had rolled back the sleeves of her gown, to keep them from being soiled. Though she was still the model of perfection, she was slightly mussed. And thoroughly appealing.

  He strode inside.

  “You should have been home hours ago, enjoying Carmelita’s special dinner.”

  Cal’s deep voice startled Pearl out of her reverie. With a guilty look, she lifted her head from the book she’d been studying.

  “I...didn’t realize it was so late. Did you say special dinner?”

  “That’s right. Carmelita planned a celebration for your first day of school.”

  “Oh, dear. I didn’t know. I suppose I’ve spoiled everything.”

  “By now, she and Rosario have probably returned to their own ranch. She’ll have to hold off the celebration until tomorrow.” Cal stepped closer. “I didn’t think teachers were expected to sleep at their desks.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping. I was looking for passages to read to my class tomorrow. Something that would stir their imaginations and lift their spirits.”

  He gave her a slow smile. “I take it you anticipate their return tomorrow.”

  “Oh, yes. At least some of them.” She closed the book and got to her feet. “Oh, Cal. I wish you could have seen their faces when I read to them. It was as though I had held a candle up to their souls.”

  He studied the expression on her face. He’d never before seen her so animated.

  “Suddenly they realized the power of being able to read.” She clasped her hands together and, forgetting propriety, twirled around happily, sending her skirts swirling about her ankles.

  “They’re wonderful children. Bart Adams is a happy, joyful boy. He’ll be a delight to teach. And Birdie. So determined to help her family. And eager to learn.” Without thinking, she moved closer and dropped a hand on Cal’s sleeve.

  He felt the heat of her touch, but, except for a slight narrowing of his eyes, gave no indication of it.

  “And Travis. Cal, he doesn’t think school can help him. He’s only here because his mother wants him to learn to read. But once he does, there’ll be no stopping him.”

  She lifted her face to him, her smile warming him as nothing else ever had. “And the little Potter girls. So sweet. So shy. I can’t wait to...”

  They were mere inches apart, so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek. Her hand rested on his arm, and his muscles suddenly tensed beneath her touch. It was all he could do to keep from dragging her against him and savaging her mouth.

  Sensing his tension, she paused and ran her tongue over lips that had gone dry. He studied the movement, feeling a tightening deep inside. At once he became aware of the way she was watching him. His heartbeat, always so sure and steady, suddenly became erratic, skipping several beats before starting an unsteady rhythm.

  “I suppose I must sound silly, prattling on about the children....”

  “No. Not silly at all.” God in heaven, he wanted her so desperately, the thought of taking her here, now, had him trembling.

  “I never properly thanked you for what you did today, Cal.” Feeling suddenly shy, she lifted her hand from his arm.

  He could still feel the warmth of her touch through his sleeve. To keep from reaching out to her, he curled his hands into fists at his sides. “Thanks aren’t necessary. I’m just glad I could help.”

  “You did more than just help. You saved me from wallowing in self-pity. I was just about to give in to feelings of despair. I thought there was no hope of seeing anyone come to school.” She shot him a dazzling smile and offered a handshake. “Thank you, Cal. I hope someday I can repay the favor.”

  He glanced at her hand and thought about refusing to touch her. But she’d never understand. She would think he was refusing her offer of friendship, as well.

  His big hand engulfed her small palm. He stared down into those smiling blue eyes. And he was lost.

  Without a thought to the consequences, he dragged her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

  She gave a little gasp of surprise, but he swallowed the sound as he took the kiss deeper.

  There was nothing easy or gentle about the kiss. His mouth moved over hers with a savageness that left her dazed and breathless. His hands moved up her spine, igniting little fires as they pressed and kneaded her flesh through the thin fabric of her gown.

  Her breasts were flattened to his chest. He drew her hips to his, alerting her to his full arousal. And all the while his mouth worked its magic, drawing out the kiss until she moaned and moved against him, inflaming him even more.

  “Cal, you mustn’t....”

  “I know.” He caught her roughly by the shoulders. “At least my head knows.” His touch gentled, his hands making slow, lazy circles around her upper arms and shoulders. “But the rest of me isn’t listening.”

  She thought she could go on like this forever, having him holding her, caressing her. Arousing her. With each touch of his hands, she felt the heat increase, until her flesh was on fire.

  “We should go now,” she whispered.

  “Yes.” His gaze trailed the ladder leading to a loft. He thought of lying with her in the straw, listening to the sounds of the night while he made slow, delicious love to her. The thought tormented him, and he lowered his mouth for one more drugging kiss.

  She didn’t have the power to stop him. Couldn’t. The lure of his lips overruled any fear she might harbor.

  As his mouth moved over hers, she sighed and gave herself up to the pleasure. This was what she wanted. This mindless passion. This slow, sensual mating of mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue.

  As the pressure
of the kiss increased, she felt her blood begin to heat, her heartbeat begin to pulse. His arms tightened around her, drawing her so close against him that she could feel the press of his body with every part of hers. His wildly beating heart kept time with hers. The hard, muscled wall of his chest pressed against her breasts. The thrust of his arousal caused a sweet, liquid warmth that reached to her very core.

  He lifted his head to press soft butterfly kisses to her temple, her cheek, the tip of her nose.

  She sighed, moved by his tenderness.

  “We don’t have to go,” he murmured against her ear.

  She froze. Pushing slightly away, she stared up into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “We could stay. Here.” He motioned with his head toward the loft.

  Pearl shivered at the invitation in his eyes. At the moment, with her defenses weakened, it was too tempting.

  “We have to go.” She took a halting step backward, and then another. With each step away from him, her common sense flowed back, filling her mind.

  She walked toward her desk, praying her legs wouldn’t fail her. She scooped up the lantern and led the way to the door, trusting him to follow.

  Outside, she breathed in the cool night air and prayed for a return to sanity.

  Beside her, Cal McCabe did the same.

  Chapter Nine

  “We’ll do sums this morning,” Pearl announced. “I’ll give you older children some numbers to work on silently while I help the younger ones with theirs.”

  School had been in session for a week, and six more children had arrived at various times. But, since none of them could attend daily, the number in the classroom could be as low as three or as high as a dozen.

  Pearl was learning to expect the unexpected. Rufus Durfee’s two sons, nine-year-old Damon and eleven-year-old Amos, arrived one day in a wagon loaded with goods to be delivered. The boys remained in class until noon, then left to deliver their father’s merchandise to neighboring ranchers before returning to school to pick up the other children and return them to their homes.