Pearl

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  He wondered how he would manage to go on living if she was gone. If his life had been empty before, it would now become meaningless. Yet he clung to a glimmer of hope. It seemed that he had heard her sweet voice, calling from a great distance. But that could have been his mind, playing a cruel trick.

  He tried to stir, and felt a heaviness against his chest. At once, his eyes snapped open, and he found himself staring at the most wonderful sight he’d ever beheld.

  Pearl lay curled up beside him, one arm thrown protectively across his chest. But this was a Pearl he’d never seen before.

  Her golden hair was unbound, falling seductively over one eye, then spilling across his naked chest. Gone was the spotless gown. In its place were his rough shirt and a pair of his pants, tucked into boots that were far too large for her feet.

  He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, and experienced a rare sense of peace. She was alive. And apparently unharmed. He tried to touch a finger to her cheek, and was surprised to feel a stab of hot, burning pain all the way up his arm and across his shoulder.

  He stared in wonder at the dressings and then, slowly, gradually, began to remember. But, though he could recall the wounds to his shoulder and thigh, he had no recollection of a wound to the chest.

  He glanced around the cave, trying to sew together a patchwork of memories. Rollie was nowhere to be seen. Did that mean he was dead? Or had he merely escaped? And Marshal Quent Regan and the wranglers. Were they on their way? Or had they somehow become lost? He gave a long, deep sigh. There were too many missing pieces.

  He wondered about the unusual silence. Except for the hiss and snap of a log on the fire, and the occasional gust of wind outside, there were none of the usual, familiar sounds.

  He decided that it would all come back to him later. Right now, it was enough to know that Pearl was unharmed, and here with him. As long as she was safe, he would relax his guard.

  Within minutes, he was fast asleep.

  Pearl awoke abruptly. Had she merely dreamed it, or had Cal stirred?

  She got to her knees and pressed a hand to his forehead. His flesh was cool to the touch.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks. When she opened her eyes again, she found Cal staring back at her.

  “Oh, thank God,” she breathed. “I’ve been so afraid for you.”

  “For me?” He was surprised at how difficult it was to speak. His throat felt as though it had been tangled in barbed wire. “Why would you be afraid for me?”

  “Because you were shot. And I thought...”

  He touched a finger to her cheek. “Tears? For me, Pearl?”

  She blinked and struggled to stem the flow. But the tears fell faster. “I couldn’t bear to see you hurt. And when Rollie shot you in the chest —”

  He pressed a hand over her lips to still her words. “When did that happen?”

  “When he followed you outside into the storm. Afterward, I tried to stop him, but it was too late. He’d already fired his gun.”

  Cal nodded. “I remember now. He would have killed me if you hadn’t attacked him with my rifle.”

  She shook her head, and the tears fell faster now, as she was reminded once again of her inadequacy. “I didn’t save you, Cal. You saved yourself, by firing at Rollie. I don’t even know if he’s dead or wounded. As soon as he toppled over the ravine, I hurried to see if you were still alive.”

  It was plain that these few moments of exertion had cost him. He closed his eyes weakly. “And am I? Still alive?”

  “Oh, Cal...” She pressed her cheek to his.

  He tasted the salt of her tears, and thought it the sweetest flavor in the world. It was his last conscious thought before he drifted back to sleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Pearl lifted her head and shivered in the chill of the cave. The only light came from the glow of embers.

  Slipping from the warmth of the covers, she hurriedly tossed a log on the fire and waited until flames began to lick along the dry bark. Then she turned and made her way to the mouth of the cave. Lifting a corner of the hide, she peered into the midnight blackness. The swirl of snowflakes kissed her cheeks. At once she drew back and returned to the bed she shared with Cal.

  As she slipped in beside him, she touched a hand to his forehead. Feeling his cool flesh, she felt a welling of gratitude.

  “Is that a smile?” The sound of his rough voice startled her. He was watching her in the glow of the fire.

  “Oh, Cal. I’m just so relieved that your fever has passed. You really had me frightened. I’ve never removed a bullet before, and I was afraid...”

  He shifted to face her, though the movement had him hissing with pain. “Did you say you removed a bullet?” He probed the dressings at his shoulder and chest.

  “Two of them, in fact. I had no choice. I’m sorry....”

  “Sorry?” He threw back his head and laughed, but the laughter was cut short by a stab of pain. “You’re sorry you removed the bullets and saved my life?”

  “Of course not.” She stiffened and pulled away. “I’m just sorry I had to cause you such pain.”

  He knew her well enough by now to realize that her haughty words were a cover for nerves. His own tone softened, and he laid a hand over hers until she relaxed once more. “You didn’t cause my pain, Pearl. Rollie’s bullets did that. But you did save my life.”

  She felt her pulse begin to accelerate. A strange heat began to radiate through her veins. If it were possible, she thought, she would be content to lie here, just like this, beside the man she loved, with his hand on hers, for the rest of her life.

  The man she loved. A long, deep sigh rose up from deep inside her. Gathering her courage, she lifted her other palm and closed it over Cal’s, sandwiching his hand between both of hers.

  “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m sleeping here beside you, Cal.” She licked her lips, which bad suddenly gone dry, and forced herself to continue. “You needed all the blankets, because you were in shock, and trembling violently. But when that wasn’t enough, I had to warm you with my body, as well. And then...” She shrugged and squeezed his hand. “It just seemed the most natural thing in the world to continue to lie here beside you.” She turned her head. “I hope you don’t think me too bold.”

  When he made no reply, she felt her heart catch in her throat. Dear heaven. He must be scandalized by her behavior.

  “I’m sorry.” She sat up, shoving the hair from her eyes. “If you’ll feel better, I’ll...” The words died in her throat.

  His eyes were closed; his breathing was slow and steady. He had drifted back to sleep.

  With heat staining her cheeks, she rolled to her side, grateful that she had been spared this humiliation. But it brought her no relief. For she was forced to face another dilemma. Now that he was beginning to heal, and she no longer had to fear for his life, she would have to deal with a new, and very different, fear. Cal was no longer a patient to be tended. Now that the crisis had passed, he was a man. A strong, virile, flesh-and-blood man. A man whose mere presence had her thinking about things that were highly improper. And wishing for things far beyond her reach.

  Courage, she warned herself as she began to slip into that twilight state between sleep and dreams. So far, her courage had not failed her. She had no doubt it would see her through the next trial, as well.

  Cal awoke to the sounds of muffled footsteps and something heavy being dragged across the floor of the cave. Still clinging to the dregs of sleep, he started to reach for his gun and found, to his amazement, that even that simple movement had him clenching his teeth in pain.

  He opened his eyes to see Pearl, wearing his duster and boots, struggling with a heavy log. Once she had managed to get it in out of the cold, she rolled it onto the fire, where it soon leaped into flame.

  “Is that how you got me in here?” he asked.

  She turned. Wiping her hands on her britches, she hurried t
o kneel at his side. “I should have rolled you like a log. It would have been simpler. How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Like I wrestled with a bear. And the bear won.” His gaze burned over her. “That’s a mighty fancy gown, ma’am.”

  For the first time, she smiled, and his heart took a jolt before settling down to its normal rhythm.

  “I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed your clothes, since you had no use for them.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “That’s another thing I’d like to talk to you about, ma’am. I noticed I’m naked. Did you have something to do with that?”

  To cover the flush that crept over her cheeks, she lifted a hand to his forehead and made a great show of probing for a fever. He reached up and covered her hand with his, stilling her movements. He felt the way her pulse leaped at his touch.

  “How did you get me inside this cave? As I recall, Rollie and I shot at each other quite a distance from here.”

  “I...managed to drag you in, with the help of that hide hanging in the doorway, and your horse. You went for a sleigh ride, but I’m afraid you didn’t get to enjoy it.”

  Though it cost him a great deal of pain, he lifted both hands to cup her face. “You’re an amazing woman, Pearl Jewel. And a very inventive one, I might add.”

  She shook her head and pulled away, alarmed at her reaction to his touch. “I just did what I had to.”

  “From the looks of things, I’d say you did much more. How did you manage those logs?”

  “I rolled most of them inside. One or two had to be dislodged with the help of your horse and some ropes. The snow made everything more difficult.”

  “Snow?”

  She nodded. “The storm turned into a blizzard. Judging by the size of the drifts out there, it might be days before anyone can get to us.”

  Now he understood the unnatural silence.

  “You mean—” his gaze burned over her “— we’re all alone up here, with no hope of being rescued anytime soon?”

  “That’s right.”

  He shot her a wicked smile. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be lost in a blizzard with than you, Miss Jewel.”

  She turned away and busied herself with the fire, aware that her heart was pounding. She had begun to think the same thing herself. “Are you hungry?”

  It was several seconds before he replied. “Starving.”

  “I found some dried meat in your bedroll. And a couple of hard biscuits, if you’d like.”

  When he made no response, she turned to him. Once again, his eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady. She knelt beside him, watching and listening for long moments. It was the sweetest sound, the most endearing vision, in the world. And one that she’d hoped and prayed for. There was no sign of pain in his relaxed features. This strong, brave man, who had risked his life for her, was truly healing.

  Assured that Cal was still deep in sleep, she ventured outside once more, this time in search of game.

  She knew it was pointless to carry Cal’s rifle, since she didn’t have the vaguest idea how to fire it. But she carried his hunting knife tucked into the waistband of her britches and, for luck, his pistol in her pocket.

  She remembered hearing the gurgle of a brook nearby. Now, following the sound of rushing water, she located the swollen stream. It was teeming with fish. But how to catch them? She returned to the cave and looked over her meager supplies. Stuffing her torn petticoat into an empty bucket, she made her way back to the stream. Within an hour, having used the sheer undergarment like a net, she returned to the cave with a bucket of wriggling fish.

  Soon the little cave was filled with the mouth-watering aroma of fish grilling in a blackened skillet, biscuits browning over the fire and coffee bubbling.

  As she began to eat, Pearl felt her spirits restored and her courage renewed.

  “You’re looking very smug, Miss Jewel.”

  At the sound of Cal’s voice, she looked up, then hurried to his side. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving. What smells so wonderful?”

  “Fish. There’s a stream nearby just brimming with them.”

  “Is that so? And how did you manage to catch them?”

  “My petticoat.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she felt her cheeks grow hot. “I mean, I used it as a net and filled a whole bucket with fish.”

  “Now what would the good people of Hanging Tree think if they learned that their teacher went fishing with her petticoat?”

  She flushed and looked away until she heard the deep rumble of his laughter. Oh, it was such a wonderful sound. She realized at once that he was teasing her, and she joined in the laughter.

  “They might be even more shocked to learn that I’ve been spending my days tending a naked man.”

  He caught her hand. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that....”

  “We’ll talk later.” She pulled free and returned to the fire. Filling a tin plate with biscuits and fish, she handed it to Cal. “Right now, I think you need to eat something if you’re ever going to regain your strength.”

  He accepted the plate and took several bites before setting it aside. “That’s all I can manage right now.”

  She knelt beside him and lifted his head until it was pillowed on her lap. Then she held a steaming cup of coffee to his lips. He drank, long and deep, before refusing more.

  Over the rim of the cup, he muttered, “You’d better be careful, Pearl. I might learn to like this kind of treatment.”

  She merely smiled, pleased that he had managed to eat and drink. But when she started to get up, he caught her hand, holding her still.

  “I definitely intend to get my strength back.”

  “Oh?” She knew he could feel the way her pulse was hammering.

  “Um-hmm. And when I do, there are some things we’re going to have to talk about.”

  Her heart did a series of somersaults, but she managed to say calmly, “Your little talk will have to wait until you’re stronger.” She stood and moved around the cave, then picked up her petticoat.

  “Going fishing again, teacher?”

  She nodded. “One of us has to see about supper.”

  He closed his eyes, too exhausted to do more than offer a weak smile. “And one of us has to keep this bed warm.”

  By the time the day had ended and the first stars had begun to glitter in the evening sky, Cal had awakened several more times. Each time, he managed to eat and drink a little more, adding to his growing strength.

  Pearl, too, noticed the renewal of both her energy and her spirits as the day wore on. The frequent treks to the stream, struggling through waist-high snowdrifts, added color to her pale cheeks. Her relief at Cal’s recovery, and the knowledge that she could provide them with food, put a sparkle in her eye.

  Now, as night swiftly stole over the land, she sat beside the fire, huddled inside Cal’s duster. The only thing she wore beneath it was her chemise. Her gown, which she had washed in the stream until all the blood had been removed, was draped over a rock to dry. Cal’s shirt and britches, as well as his tall boots, had become thoroughly soaked, and were now drying by the fire.

  She ran her fingers through her tangled hair to smooth it, then pulled it over one shoulder and began to plait it into a fat braid.

  Across from her, Cal lay in the shadows, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was the sweetest torture to watch her long, delicate fingers as they wove the strands of hair. He imagined those fingers moving over him, touching him. He experienced a wave of heat that left him weak.

  He watched as she stood and removed his duster. The contours of her lithe young body were clearly visible beneath the opaque fabric of her chemise, which revealed more than it covered.

  The heat became an inferno.

  She tossed several logs on the fire to keep it burning through the night, then lifted the covers and slipped in beside him. With an economy of movement, she rolled onto her side. Soon her breathing
had become soft and easy.

  Cal lay awake, watching the shifting shadows of the fire paint stark, vibrant pictures on the wall of the cave. His hands were balled into tight fists. But this time his tension was not caused by pain. This was a very different tension. One that had his entire body vibrating with need.

  The miracle that had brought them so far would be nothing compared with the miracle needed to get him through the night. For the need to touch her, to hold her, was so strong, it threatened to tear apart all his hard-won control.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Pearl stirred. She’d been having the most delicious dream. In it, she was safe in her father’s arms. They had come through a perilous journey, and he was boasting of his pride in her courage. His words warmed her and she smiled, stretched—and froze.

  It hadn’t been a dream. At least not all of it. She was indeed encircled in a man’s arms. But it wasn’t her father’s tender embrace. Her eyes opened. She found herself staring into the warm, fathomless depths of Cal’s gaze.

  “Good morning.” Watching her awaken had been the sweetest pleasure of his life.

  “Good morning.” Embarrassed, she started to shift away, but his arms tightened, holding her still. She avoided meeting his eyes. “You’ll be wanting some breakfast. I imagine you’re hungry.”

  “I am hungry.” His gaze moved over her face, enjoying the flush that stole across her cheeks. “But it isn’t food I’m hungry for, Pearl.”

  His lips hovered just above hers, and she knew that if she moved only a fraction, she could taste them. That thought had her heartbeat racing. Did she dare? She reached a tentative hand to his chest. His heart was pounding as erratically as her own. And his eyes were positively devouring her.

  “You aren’t going to recover your strength unless you have food.”

  “Don’t you know that man can’t live on food alone?” He traced the outline of her lower lip with his finger, and she held her breath at the intimacy of his touch. “I’ve been feeding my soul.”