The Winter Pearl. Molly Bull Noble

other things and placed them in a wicker basket. None was a bottle with liquid in it. So he didn’t pay much attention.

      “Shall we go?” she asked.

      “I reckon. The sooner we go, the sooner we’ll get back and I can have that drink.”

      They went out into the sunshine, and Ruby rushed over to his mare. The basket swayed back and forth on her arm as she fed Lady the carrot.

      “Hello, girl,” Ruby said. “How are you doing?” She turned and smiled up at Lucas. “Horses have such soft noses, don’t they?”

      “I ain’t never thought much about it.”

      It was a lie. He had thought about it. But he’d always considered it unmanly to let anyone know how he felt.

      His saddle, blanket and other equipment had been dropped together under a pine tree. Ruby picked up one of his saddlebags. Then she pulled a small book from her basket and slipped it in the bag.

      “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

      “I got this Bible from the preacher at my church in town. The inscription inside said it belonged to Harriet. She must have left it at the church. I thought Honor might like to have it now.” She stuffed a small wooden box in with the Bible.

      Lucas reached for the bag, taking it out of her hand. “What else are you puttin’ in there?” He peered inside.

      “That string of pearls you gave me last Christmas. I know you stole it from Harriet, and I think the pearls should go to Honor now.”

      For all Lucas cared, she could take the book and necklace and throw them in the creek. Then he had a second thought. Were the items worth something? Could he sell them? Lucas always needed money.

      Ruby moved over to his gray mare again and patted the animal’s swollen belly. “Don’t you just love babies?”

      “I like colts. They make me money.”

      “Always money.” She turned and smiled at him again. “What about human babies? Wouldn’t you like to have one?”

      “I never gave it much thought,” he said, knowing it was another lie. “Harriet couldn’t have no children.”

      “I can. At least, I hope I can.”

      Lucas tensed. “Are you—are you in the family way, Ruby?”

      “Not yet. But I’d like to be.” She moved toward him and put her arms around his neck. “Will you marry me, Lucas?” She beamed up at him. “You always said you would. Someday. And someday is here. Please, Lucas, say yes.”

      “You know better than to pen me in, Ruby. I’ve been penned up for too long as it is.” He took hold of her arms and removed them from around his neck. “I don’t want to get married.”

      To you, he thought.

      “Don’t say that!” Ruby covered her mouth with the palms of her hands. “Not now!”

      Lucas tensed. “The only thing I want is a good shot of whiskey.”

      “But you promised…”

      “I don’t want you, Ruby. You can’t have no babies. If you could, you would have had a couple by now.”

      Her eyes widened. “How can you say such a cruel thing?”

      “’Cause it’s true.”

      Her mouth turned down at the edges. The softness he’d seen in her face a few minutes earlier vanished. Slowly, her jaw tightened. She looked hard, yet strong…and beautiful.

      Anger boiled inside him, threatening to bubble up. His face and neck heated quicker than a kettle on a hot stove. Didn’t Ruby know enough to back away while she had the chance?

      “What makes you so sure I’m the one who can’t have children?” she taunted. “Did you ever wonder if maybe it’s you, Lucas? Maybe if Harriet and I had been with a real man, we could have had all the babies we wanted.”

      He stiffened. His hands became fists.

      Ruby screamed. “Don’t!” She got down on her knees. “Please, Lucas! Don’t hit me.”

      He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. After what she had said, she deserved it. And yet…

      His chest heaving with suppressed rage, Lucas turned toward his mare. The muscles in his face were as stiff as iron. Slowly, he saddled his horse.

      When he’d mounted, he looked down. Ruby rocked back and forth on the ground, crying.

      “Goodbye, Ruby. And thank you kindly for a mighty fine meal.” He pulled out the flask and held it up for her to see. “Thanks for the whiskey, too.”

      Lucas took a swig from the flask. Then he turned his mare toward Hearten and rode away.

      He would sell the items that had belonged to Harriet. Honor didn’t deserve them after what she did. Besides, he needed money. Otherwise, he might need to find a temporary job before going all the way to Pine Falls.

      Jeth didn’t feel like sitting in the parlor on one of his mother’s ornate, store-bought chairs while he waited to hear what Dr. Harris had to say about Honor. Pacing back and forth in the entry hall in front of the double doors, he paused only long enough to check his pocket watch.

      He thought of Honor’s letter—the one he had discovered on the desk near the door. What if he hadn’t noticed it in time? She could have died—frozen to death in the icy rain.

      Miss McCall could still be seriously hurt and might need weeks to recuperate. Yet she’d written him a thank-you letter before wandering off in the cold. She must be one of those modern girls he’d been reading about in the newspaper.

      The reporter had written, “These young ladies will feel more comfortable in the twentieth century when it finally arrives than they ever felt in the nineteenth.”

      Jeth headed for the kitchen. He respected Honor’s independent spirit, but to his way of thinking, her judgment was misguided.

      He poured himself a cup of coffee, sat down at the table and looked around. Where was the doctor? Jeth drummed the fingers of one hand on the table. The man should have finished examining Honor long ago.

      At the sound of creaking from the stairway, Jeth glanced toward the door, put down his cup and started to rise from his chair.

      “No, don’t get up,” his mother said from the doorway. “We can entertain the doctor in here as well as the parlor.”

      Dr. Harris stood behind his mother, his hands on her shoulders. Jeth liked the picture they made. At over six feet, the doctor barely fit under the lintel of the door and he looked even taller next to his mama.

      Jeth had always thought the doctor was sweet on his widowed mother. But so far, Dr. Harris hadn’t declared himself.

      Mrs. Peters gestured toward the chair across from Jeth’s. “Sit down, Alvin, and I’ll get the coffee.”

      Dr. Harris settled into the chair and leaned back, folding his hands over his chest. Jeth wondered what the doctor must have thought when he found him alone in a room with a young, unmarried woman. He should have been standing in the doorway instead of seated in a chair by her bed. Now he wanted a report on Honor’s health, but the doctor looked tired.

      “Alvin was up all night with Mr. Sloan’s mother,” Mrs. Peters explained. “The dear woman isn’t doing too well. So we need to keep praying, Jethro, and have patience. Wait on the Lord.”

      Jeth nodded, drumming his fingers again. “Yes, we certainly do.”

      The doctor’s eyes were closed and he was snoring softly. It was amazing that he could fall asleep so quickly, and it would be a shame to wake him, but Jeth needed to hear how Honor was doing and didn’t know how much longer he could sit and wait.

      Jeth