Pearl Read online

  She could feel her cheeks coloring under the sheriff’s scrutiny. She fidgeted with the seam of her bodice where it joined the skirt, glanced at the ground and noticed a steaming pile of horse manure beside her left foot she hadn’t seen before that moment. She stepped cautiously to the side, her nose wrinkling. “Well, right before the stage overturned, I did glance out the window …”

  He was studying her as if he could solve the mystery of what happened just by her facial expressions. “And?”

  “And there was … something there. It was hard to see – there was so much dust, and the stage was moving so fast – but it was a creature of some kind.”

  “Oh?”

  She could tell she’d piqued his interest. Hank watched her too, eyebrows arched and eyes narrowed. “A horrible creature. It was big and red and looked disfigured. And there was something on its back.”

  “What?” asked Hank, his eyes widening.

  Pearl’s heart lurched at the memory “It looked like … a headless man.”

  Surprisingly, the sheriff didn’t seem shocked. He nodded at her words, a definite flash of recognition in his eyes. “The Red Ghost,” he murmured, putting his hands on his hips and kicking the ground with the toe of his boot.

  “The what?” asked Hank, his brow furrowed.

  “The Red Ghost. I thought it was just a local legend, but lately we’ve been getting’ more and more reports of it. And this time’s different, ‘cause it’s been seen by someone who never heard the stories before. Ain’t that right, Miss Stout?”

  She nodded. “No, I’ve never heard of any Red Ghost before.”

  “Walk with me, will you, Miss Stout? I gotta get back to my office, but there’s somethin’ I’d like to share with ya.” Sheriff Fuller strode off.

  Pearl hurried alongside him, with Hank trailing. “What is it?”

  “Just last week, there was a sightin’ of the Red Ghost at the Farleys’ ranch about five miles west of here. Jed and Tom Farley set out in the mornin’ to check on their livestock, leavin’ their wives and children at the homestead. When Jed’s wife Jane went down to the spring to fetch a bucket of water, Tom’s wife Rose stayed in the house with the children. Rose heard the dogs begin barkin’ up a storm, then a woman’s scream, so she barricaded the doors. She stayed inside with the kids ‘til the men returned that night. That’s when they found Jane’s body.”

  Pearl gasped and covered her mouth.

  “The poor lady’d been trampled to death. Next day, they took more of a look ‘round and found big ol’ cloven hoofprints and some strands of red hair ‘round where Jane was found. Everyone ‘round these parts knows the story, so soon as folks heard ‘bout Jane, whispering ‘bout the Red Ghost started up again. I’m guessin’ it’s the same creature you saw.”

  Pearl shuddered as they reached the sheriff’s office, wrapping her arms around herself and squeezing tight. “That does sound like what I saw. It was a big creature and had reddish hair. And it seemed to move like a horse, so that might explain the hoofprints.”

  “But then I also heard a fur trapper tell how he saw the Red Ghost devour a grizzly bear right in front of him. So I gotta take these stories with a grain of salt, ya understand.”

  Pearl nodded. “I appreciate your skepticism. But I know what I saw.”

  “I’m sure ya do.” The sheriff tipped his hat with a smile. “Well, thank ya kindly for yer help in the matter, Miss Stout – ‘specially seein’ as how no one else was able to tell me as much.”

  “You’re welcome, Sheriff. I hope you get to the bottom of the matter.”

  Sheriff Fuller turned and went into the sheriff’s office, swinging the door shut behind him.

  Pearl’s head spun. The creature she’d seen sounded more dangerous than even she’d realized. If it could trample a woman to death like that – and maybe even eat a grizzly bear, though that seemed doubtful – who knew what else it was capable of? A shiver ran through her and she chewed nervously on her lip.

  “Ready to head back, or do you still want to look around town?” asked Hank softly.

  She’d almost forgotten he was there, and he looked at her with a softness she hadn’t seen from him before. “Oh, well … yes, I suppose I might keep walking.” She glanced around, noting the street buzzed with wagons and cowboys, shopkeepers, farmers, and mothers with children. They’d passed a saloon, and there was also a dance hall across the street and a gambling house beside that. Next to the sheriff’s office was a blacksmith’s and beside that the post office.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I join you. I’ve been gone awhile, and Tucson’s changed a good bit in that time. I’ve been meanin’ to take a look ‘round.” He offered her his arm.

  Pearl thought about it a moment, then put her hand on his arm, surprised at how snugly it fit and how right it felt. Her head was still in a whirl from everything the sheriff had told them and she pondered it as they walked together.

  By the time they reached the edge of town, where raw timber-and-siding cottages and noisy construction sites dominated the landscape, her thoughts had calmed and she was enjoying the sights. Hank remained silent the entire time, and she’d grown to enjoy the company and the warmth of his arm beneath her hand.

  “So are you still plannin’ on marryin’ Hilton?” he asked suddenly.

  She frowned and stopped walking to look at him. His eyes were blue as the summer sky, and she thought she saw a flicker of pain – flash through them. “That’s what I came here to do, isn’t it?”

  He smirked, and she scowled – the cad’s irritating manner had returned, she could see it all over his face. He’d intended to provoke her and he’d succeeded. “I don’t appreciate you trying to aggravate me. I know that’s what you’re up to, and I assure you, it will take more than that to upset me.”

  He laughed, a hearty chuckle that made her blood boil. “I’m not tryin’ to aggravate you. I just asked a question.”

  She sniffed. “Why would you ask such a question? You know that Hilton and I are engaged.”

  “What you need, in my opinion, is a bit of excitement. You won’t be content with my brother. You need a man who won’t always let you get your own way, who knows how to bring some adventure into your life.” He chuckled again, rubbing his beard while he watched her reaction.

  She frowned. “I suppose you mean someone like you?”

  His mouth twitched – he seemed to be stifling a grin. “Sure, someone like me. If I were the marryin’ type, which I’m not.”

  She stamped her foot on the dusty road and pulled her hand free of his arm. “Oh …!” She couldn’t even form words, he made her so mad.

  He laughed and stepped closer to her, his head lowering until his mouth hovered only inches from hers. He smiled, his eyes twinkling with laughter. He moved nearer still, closing the gap between them until only a breath of air separated them. His gaze fixed on hers and his eyes darkened as he chuckled again.

  Pearl saw how he was looking at her. She gasped, hauled back her hand and slapped him hard across his cheek. “You blackguard!” she cried, then stormed back up the street toward her apartment, his laughter trailing in her wake.

  Chapter 4

  The floor beneath Hank’s back was cold and hard, even with the sleeping mat Hilton had given him. He rolled over and groaned. One day he’d have to get himself one of those fancy beds like his brother had – he was getting too old to sleep on the floor every night. Even the outdoors was more comfortable than this. He wondered for a moment if his brother had a more comfortable option and decided against offering it to him in case it prolonged his visit.

  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and laughed softly to himself. As much as he loved his brother and Hilton loved him, the two of them couldn’t be more different if they’d tried. Hilton was the only family he had left in the world, so he always made a point of visiting whenever he was in the territory. If anyone asked, he’d say Tucson was home simply because it was where Hilton lived. But he never stuck aro
und for long. Not just because he grew restless, but also because he knew his presence was a fly in the ointment of his brother’s perfectly organized life.

  It always amazed him the way Hilton had turned out to be such an upstanding citizen, with a fancy job at the newspaper and a nice apartment, how he always dressed neatly and was never tempted to bend the rules. After all they’d been through together as children, he’d have thought his brother would be more like him – a carefree wanderer who thumbed his nose at authority and lived by the skill of his hands, both as a blacksmith and with the speed of his draw.

  He sat up and stretched his arms over his head with a yawn, then wrapped them around his knees while he shook the sleep from his head. He stood, yawned again and stumbled over to the kitchen table to begin making coffee.

  Hilton walked in from the bedroom, already dressed, and lit a fire in the stove. “Good morning, Hank.”

  Hank nodded with a grunt. He couldn’t talk yet – still too early. The sun had just peeked over the horizon and normally he wouldn’t be awake at this time, save for the hardness of the floor and his brother waking at the same time every morning since he’d arrived. His body always seemed to adjust to a new schedule with no trouble at all.

  Hilton stoked the fire, replaced the poker and closed the stove door. “Good to see you. Sorry I haven’t been around much – it’s been busy at the paper. What have you been up to while I’m working?”

  Hank cleared his throat. He still hadn’t had any coffee, and wasn’t sure why his brother insisted on conversing at such a ridiculous hour. “Just this and that. Hey, I might have a story for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, ever heard of the Red Ghost? Apparently it’s what turned the stagecoach over.”

  Hilton arched an eyebrow. “Really? Please Hank, I don’t report fiction. The Gazette is a reputable publication…”

  Hank scratched his chin with a smile. “Never mind, brother. Forget I said anything.”

  Hilton frowned and put on an apron over his head. “I was just wondering how long you plan on sticking around.” He grabbed a loaf of bread from beneath a cloth on the kitchen table and set it on a cutting board.

  “Sick of me already?” Hank sat in a chair and rubbed his face, willing his eyes to focus.

  Hilton laughed awkwardly and selected a serrated knife from a drawer. “No, of course not – nothing like that. But you don’t usually camp in one place for long. I was thinking – maybe you could stay for the wedding? It’ll be a quiet affair – I won’t have anyone else there. But it would be nice if my brother could stand beside me.”

  Hank blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. It made his throat ache a little. “Oh yeah, of course I will. I’d planned on stayin’ a bit longer this time anyways. Would sure be somethin’ to see my little brother tie the knot.” He smiled and leaned back in the chair. “So you and that pint of fiery brew from up north are still gettin’ hitched, huh?”

  Hilton buttered two slices of bread and placed them on plates, retrieved two tin cups from a cabinet and set them out as well. “Of course, that’s why she came here. Why, did she tell you otherwise?”

  “Not really. It’s just that …”

  A knock at the door interrupted their conversation, and Hilton’s eyebrows lowered. He wiped his hands on the apron, untied it and hung it on a peg in the wall. “Now who could that be at this hour?” He walked to the door, muttering under his breath all the way.

  Hank shut his eyes and rubbed them hard. Now he’d have to converse with two people before coffee.

  “Good morning, Mr. Pullman!” sang a high-pitched voice.

  Hank cringed and covered his ears. Land sakes, it was too early for that!

  “Miss Millie Peretti, good morning to you. I have to say I’m surprised to see you at this hour.” Hilton stepped aside and waved her into the apartment with a sweep of his hand.

  Millie Peretti bustled in, a basket hanging on one delicate forearm and a bonnet on her head from which black curls protruded. With her plump dimpled cheeks, she looked to be about seventeen, and from her name Hank assumed she was the landlord’s daughter. He vaguely remembered Hilton telling him the man had a passel of children.

  Hilton followed her across the room. “Miss Peretti, I’d like to introduce you to my brother Hank Pullman.”

  “Brother? Oh, my pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pullman.” She giggled. “How lucky we are in Tucson to accommodate two such men by that name.” She stuck out a gloved hand.

  Hank stood and shook it with a grin. “Well, that sure is kind of you to say.” Her cheeks flushed with pink and her hand trembled a little. She glanced at Hilton, who smiled broadly and the look on her face made Hank’s grin stretch wider. The young girl was in love with his brother, and the poor fool hadn’t a clue.

  Millie giggled again and patted the dishcloth-covered basket on her arm. The smell of fresh baked goods wafted out from it. “I brought you biscotti and muffins. I know how you like my biscotti, Mr. Pullman …” Her glance darted from one Pullman to the other, and she chuckled nervously. “Oh dear, how will you ever know who I’m speaking of?”

  Hilton smiled again. “Millie, you can call me Hilton. After all, I’m not your teacher any longer.”

  Her giggle resounded through the apartment. Hank’s eyes widened – so that’s where she’d developed her crush on his brother, at the local school. Hilton had helped out the previous year when the schoolmistress had been out due to illness – around the time of Hank’s last visit to town. Hilton had been beside himself, so anxious to make a good impression on the students that he’d developed a case of the runs.

  Hank hid a grin behind his hand – just the memory of his brother darting for the outhouse, both hands clasped against his rear, legs pumping, was almost more than he could bear. If he burst into laughter, he’d have to explain himself, and that certainly wouldn’t do. Instead he coughed into his fist. “So you taught Miss Peretti at the school then, Hilton?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching.

  Hilton’s eyes narrowed – he clearly knew what Hank was thinking of. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Well, how nice. I remember that time well …” Nope, no crossing that line. “… I’m sure you learned a lot from him, Miss.”

  “Thank you so much for the biscotti and muffins, Miss Peretti.” Hilton ushered the young woman back toward the open door.

  She smiled. “You’re most welcome … Hilton. And please, call me Millie.”

  Hilton nodded once. “I will, thank you, Millie. I do appreciate your thoughtfulness. Though I’m not sure my waistline will thank you.” He chuckled cordially.

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about a thing there, Hilton. Your waistline is just fine …” She froze, her cheeks flushed, then darted out the door as Hank’s eyebrows shot skyward.

  Hilton closed the door behind her, hurried back to the kitchen table with the basket and put his apron on again without a word. Hank followed and stood across the table from his brother, his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. Hilton glanced up, caught his brother’s stare and frowned. “What?”

  Hank laughed. “What was that?”

  “I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Hilton said testily as he took two muffins from the basket, and set them on the plates beside the bread.

  “Miss Millie Peretti is in love with you – that’s what I’m referrin’ to. Why didn’t you tell me? And why not marry her – you could’ve saved yourself the trouble of sending for a mail-order bride who may or may not go through with the weddin’ and lives across the way on your dime while she decides.”

  Hilton’s lips puckered and his cheeks flamed. “Millie Peretti is only sixteen years old. She is a former student of mine. She certainly isn’t in love with me – she’s beautiful, smart and kind, and could marry any man in this town she wanted. And even if she did have feelings for me, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to return them.”

  Hank frowned. “Why in tarnation not?”

/>   “Because, as I said, she’s young and a former student. Two very good reasons.”

  “You do realize your intended is only seventeen – one year older?” Hank’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Hilton’s eyes clouded and he seemed unsure of how to respond. He carried the plates around to the other side of the table and set one down in front of Hank. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

  “Sure it is. So I don’t understand …”

  “No, you don’t. You’ve never understood me. You may be my brother, but you’re about as different from me as oil from water and it’s time you realized it.” Hilton’s voice shook.

  Hank’s brow furrowed. His brother had never spoken to him so bluntly before. Usually, he was clipped but polite, and would sooner tug out his fingernails with pliers than share his feelings about anything. “Well, I’m sorry if I stung you, little brother. But I want you to be happy. And I’m not sure that firecracker from New York will do the trick. I just can’t see the two of you together, and I don’t want you to make a mistake that could impact the rest of your life.”

  Hilton eyed him with suspicion. “Well, thank you, Hank. I know you mean well … most of the time. But sometimes I just wish you’d support my choices.”

  Hank nodded and rubbed his stubbled chin. “All right, brother, I’ll support you. Whatever you decide to do, you can count on me to stand beside you when you do it.”

  * * *

  Pearl searched through her reticule for her key. She knew it was in there somewhere – she’d had to lock the door before she went out. She couldn’t stand being cooped up in the small apartment any longer. Hilton was gone all day at work, and she’d barely seen him for two days. Which meant that for two days, her options were strolling around town or staring at the walls in her apartment.

  She’d learned how to light the stove, and used the soft soap he’d given her to launder her clothes in the small yard behind the mercantile. She’d learned how to shop for the things she needed using Hilton’s account at various stores. She’d even tried out a few recipes she remembered from spending time in the kitchen with the cook back home. And she’d looked for Belle, without luck.