Pearl Read online

  But she was itching to do something more. She’d never been so bored. After the initial excitement of a new town wore off, she’d done everything she could think to do without money, transportation or friends to accompany her, and she ached with the monotony of it all. How could she spend her life here? She’d barely coped with a week in the place. Tucson itself wasn’t dull – she could see by the hive of activity buzzing around her that it wasn’t. But her life within it was empty.

  The flash of white from a letter in her reticule made her stop short. It was from her father. She’d received it a few days earlier, folded it in half and shoved it in there, unable to bring herself to open it. Every time she saw it, she was filled with rage.

  Finally she located her key, slipped it into the lock and turned the bolt into place. With a sigh she returned it to her reticule and tucked the bag over her forearm.

  “Headin’ out?”

  Startled, she spun around to see Hank watching her from Hilton’s open door. She hadn’t expected to see him, since he’d been absent lately. And with Hilton at work, the hall was usually quiet this time of day. “Why, hello, Hank. Yes, I am.”

  “Need company?”

  She frowned. “Well …”

  He chuckled and shut the door behind him. “Never mind.”

  Her cheeks flushed and her heart pounded. Why did he have this effect on her? He was so irritating, but at the same time her tongue tied itself in knots and her pulse raced whenever he was near. And the closer he got, the worse it became.

  He stepped closer, and she backed away from him into the wall behind her. He arched an eyebrow. “You all right?”

  She rubbed the back of her head and took a quick breath. “Yes, fine, thank you.”

  With one stride he was beside her, and she had no more space to retreat into. He towered over her. His blue eyes sparked and the corners of his mouth twitched as though he wanted to say or do something, but was holding back. She couldn’t look away, and a shiver ran through her as sweat beaded across her brow. “Excuse me,” she whispered.

  He grinned and put his hand on the wall above her head. “Yes?”

  She gasped and covered her mouth. “I …”

  He leaned over her until his mouth hovered just above hers. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

  “Are you really going to marry my brother?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

  She swallowed hard. “Why do you keep asking me that? I don’t think it’s really appropriate to discuss with you.”

  He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “No?”

  “No! Hilton and I are engaged, and if I have something to say about it, I’ll say it to him.” Her eyes narrowed and her voice strengthened with each word. How dare he speak to her that way, lean over her like that. Who did he think she was – some saloon girl he could treat as he pleased? He really was the worst kind of rascal. “Excuse me, I must be on my way.”

  He stepped back with a chuckle and tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She ducked away from him and hurried down the stairs, feeling his eyes boring into her retreating back. Why had he asked her that question about Hilton again? It seemed he asked her every time he saw her. Could he tell she was having second thoughts about marrying his brother? Was it so obvious? And if it was obvious to him, surely it was clear to Hilton as well. Oh dear.

  She burst through the door downstairs and out to the busy street. A warm breeze hit her full in the face with a flurry of dust. She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket, held it over her mouth and leaned into the wind, ducking her head to avoid the onslaught of dust.

  Her boots clacked on the boardwalk, and her thoughts repeated themselves to the rhythm of her footsteps: get married, get married, get married, get married. The phrase turned over in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the dread that descended over her. How could she marry Hilton? It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with him. He was a nice man, a fine upstanding citizen. But she didn’t love him. Was that so much to ask, to love the man she’d share her life with?

  Certainly Father and Mother seemed to think so – in fact, Father had told her when she’d originally objected to the idea that love and romance were a luxury their family could no longer afford. And there was some truth to that – if she told Hilton she no longer wished to marry him, she’d likely have no place to stay, no money for food or other necessities, and no way to get back home. It wasn’t likely he’d keep providing for her if she weren’t his betrothed.

  But did it follow that she should marry the man just to keep a roof over her head? She’d never been without shelter, nor ever gone to bed with her stomach growling. In that moment, she understood how privileged her life had been, and no longer was.

  She stopped and leaned against the wall of the sheriff’s office. She could see through the window that the sheriff wasn’t inside, but his deputies were. They stood in a group, laughing and chatting.

  She felt like an outsider. She didn’t belong in this town. She didn’t even belong in her own family anymore – Father and Mother had seen to that. She didn’t know if she could ever forgive them for sending her away. They’d taken everything from her – security, shelter, family, friendships – and left her with nothing, adrift in a world without meaning, without love.

  Pearl put her gloved hands over her face and wept. But the sobs that wracked her body cleared her mind, and for the first time since her life fell apart, she knew what she had to do. She had to live for herself.

  And that meant she couldn’t marry Hilton.

  Still sobbing, she lunged forward and broke into a run, holding her skirts up with one hand, her reticule bouncing against her side. She couldn’t marry someone she didn’t love, couldn’t throw her life away like that. She only had one life to live, one chance to make something of herself, and she didn’t intend to live it in misery, regardless of what her parents might say. What did it matter what they thought? They were half a world away, doing Heaven knew what, and no longer had any say in what she did.

  She groaned into the wind and sobbed, her feet still flying over the hard ground, blinking away the dust that flew into her eyes. She ran up a step and onto a covered boardwalk, then back down to the street, dodging puddles and animal droppings. People stared as she flew by, but she didn’t care. What did it matter now? She’d been abandoned and would likely end up on the street as soon as Hilton discovered her intentions. Still, it didn’t sway her resolve. Even if she starved, she’d do it on her own terms. No one would tell her what to do with her life any longer – no one.

  She rounded a corner and slammed into a tall, lanky youth. He grabbed her shoulders with his large hands. “Whoa! Miss Stout?”

  “Stan?” She wiped the tears streaking down her cheeks with the back of one glove. “Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. Did I hurt you?”

  He rubbed his sparsely bristled chin. “No, you didn’t hurt me, Miss Stout. Are you injured? What’s the matter?”

  She took a long, slow breath. She must look a fright, dashing through the streets like a squirrel with its tail on fire, cheeks wet with tears. Likely her eyes were red as well, though she had no way of checking. She blinked, straightened and lifted her chin. “I’m fine, thank you, Stan. I’m not injured, apart from a little bruising to the soul.”

  He chewed his lower lip and studied her face, but as soon as her eyes met his, he blushed and looked directly at the ground. She knew he was shy, but marveled at just how much anxiety it caused him to make eye contact with her for a moment. “Is everything all right, Stanley?”

  He set both hands on his bony hips. “Mr. Goodman wants me to be the new stage driver. You know, to replace Sam.” He glanced up to meet her gaze for a moment, then looked back at his own feet.

  She frowned. “But isn’t that a good thing? I’m sure you’ll get a raise, and it’s steady work …”

  He ran a hand over his head, standing his golden brown hair on end, but it ble
w right back down again in the wind. “I don’t wanna be a stage driver. I was only helping Sam out because he asked me to, and to earn a little extra money. Truth is, I really wanna work with my pa. He traps furs, and he’s got more work than he can handle. The stage is too much excitement for me anyhow – I’d rather spend my days traipsing through the woods, listening to the birds calling and the chipmunks making mischief.”

  “The woods?” Pearl’s eyebrows arched. “There are woods in Arizona?” She couldn’t imagine it. Tucson was in a desert, with only the cacti to resemble trees.

  “Yeah, up north of here. The prettiest you ever saw.” Stan’s eyes lit up, and this time he didn’t look away. “Beautiful evergreens, rivers and rises. That’s where my folks live. I came down south here because Sam asked me to, and he was a friend of Pa’s. Now that he’s gone, I’d just as soon head home – there’s no reason for me to stay here. But Mr. Goodman don’t see it that way. He says it’s my duty to drive the stage – the people of Tucson need me …”

  Pearl could see how much the idea of staying to drive the stage upset him. And he didn’t have family around to help him make the right choice. She sighed and rested a hand on his arm. Surprised, he jolted beneath her touch.

  Suddenly an idea sprang into her mind. The only reason she couldn’t do what she wanted was that she couldn’t support herself. If she didn’t find a job, she’d have to marry Hilton. Stan had a job, but didn’t want it. And if Belle Williams could dress like a man and work as a laborer., why couldn’t she do a man’s job?

  Pearl smiled. “Never you mind about old Mr. Goodman,” she said with resolve. “You just come with me. We’ll talk to him and get this whole thing settled in no time.”

  Chapter 5

  With his ear against the apartment door, Hank felt like a right fool. He shifted his feet and pulled away, slamming his hat back on. What had gotten into him?

  She had, that’s what. Pearl Stout had wormed her way into his thoughts, and he hadn’t been able to make a single rational decision since.

  He couldn’t hear a dadgum thing going on inside, but his brother had told him he’d asked Pearl to supper that evening. They were to discuss the wedding, and Hank was itching to find out what they were saying – or more to the point, what she was saying.

  He was certain she didn’t intend to go through with the wedding. There was just something about how she looked at Hilton that gave her away – she was itching to flee. But what if she did marry Hilton? What if he’d misread everything she’d said, every signal she’d sent? Or maybe she was more practical than he’d given her credit for. To him, she seemed like a spitfire with a mind of her own who wouldn’t be corralled into a marriage of convenience.

  But maybe she didn’t realize her own strength yet – she was still so young. He remembered being her age, about ten years before. He’d lost track of time over the years on the road, but he knew he could barely tie his own bootlaces at her age. But then, women were always ahead of men with those types of things.

  He chuckled and put his hand on the door knob. Perhaps he should just go in, confront them both, bring it all out into the open. But if he did that, likely both of them would shoot the messenger. They’d hate him for making them see the truth, and that was the last thing he wanted.

  The murmur of conversation through the door finally got to him. He turned the handle, pushed the door open and walked in with a grin. “Sorry, am I interruptin’?”

  Both Pearl and Hilton looked up at him with flushed faces. Pearl even smiled, much to his surprise. “No, of course not. Please join us, won’t you?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

  Hilton nodded quickly. “Yes, please – grab a plate. There’s plenty of food.”

  What was going on? They both looked grateful he’d interrupted them, as though he’d rescued them from something. “Don’t mind if I do. I’m famished.”

  “Oh? What did you get up to today?” Hilton asked, taking a bite of cornbread as he watched Hank.

  Hank laughed. “Not much. But doing nothin’ sure makes a man’s appetite grow.” He filled a bowl with venison stew, piled a plate high with cornbread and joined them at the table, setting his hat beside his plate. “So what are we talking about?”

  Pearl and Hilton exchanged a look. Pearl chewed her bottom lip, her eyebrows pulling together, then said, “Well, we talked about the weather and how windy it often is this time of year. Then we were discussing the types of plants that can survive in the arid climate.”

  Hank had to stifle a laugh. Poor thing looked like she’d been taken hostage and didn’t wish to upset her abductor. “That so? I’m sure Hilton here has plenty to say on subjects of that nature. Myself, I couldn’t give two hoots about the weather or vegetation.”

  Pearl’s eyes widened and the corners of her mouth twitched.

  Hilton frowned. “Thank you, brother. I can always count on you to be uncouth.”

  Hank shoveled a spoonful of stew into his mouth and chewed with a grin.

  “I’m sorry for my brother, Miss Stout,” Hilton continued. “He doesn’t have much experience with manners or society, but he means well. Actually, Hank, if you must know, before you interrupted us I was ready to speak with my fiancée here about our wedding.”

  Pearl coughed, a piece of cornbread hanging from the corner of her mouth.

  Hank whacked her hard on the back and she coughed again, then glared at him. He smiled warmly in return. “That’s good. I’m curious to hear what Miss Stout has to say on the subject myself.” He arched an eyebrow at her.

  She glowered at him, her eyes like coals, then faced Hilton with a sweet smile that almost made Hank laugh out loud over the contrast. “Thank you for raising the topic, Hilton. That is something we need to talk about.”

  Hilton smiled and ate a spoonful of stew.

  “In fact, I have something to tell the both of you.” Pearl set her spoon on the table, wiped her mouth with her napkin, then returned it to her lap. “I took a job today.”

  Hilton’s spoon fell into his bowl with a clatter, spraying burning stew on Hank’s forearm, but he barely noticed. He hadn’t known what she was about to say, but he certainly hadn’t expected that. “You did what?” he sputtered, his face pale. “What kind of job?”

  “I’m going to be Hillside Express’s new stagecoach driver,” she said proudly, a hint of a smile on her pink lips and her chin jutting forward.

  Hank’s mouth fell open. All he could do was stare at her pretty face.

  Hilton stood, pushing his chair back so hard it fell over. He make a choking sound, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish, his face turning from pale to deep red. “Stagecoach driver? Stagecoach driver?” he finally managed.

  Pearl’s eyes darted between the brothers, her smile fading. “Yes.”

  “But how can you do this? We’re to be married. I can’t have my wife driving the stage!”

  She frowned, her eyes narrowing. “Well …”

  Hank wasn’t sure if he should laugh, shout or slap his knee in disbelief. But this sure was entertaining, and he had an idea it was about to get more interesting by the look on Pearl’s face. He settled for wiping his arm with his napkin.

  “Well, what?” Hilton asked. “What were you about to say?”

  She sighed, stood, walked over to him and rested one hand on his forearm. Her eyes found his and she took a quick breath. “I’m sorry, Hilton. The fact is, I’m not the right person for you. I know we were meant to marry, but that arrangement was made by my parents, not me. I went along because I didn’t think I had a choice. But something someone said helped me realize that I do have a choice. This is my life. I only get to live it once. And there are so many things I want to do with the years I’m given by the Almighty.”

  Hilton didn’t speak, just watched her with wide eyes.

  Hank jumped to his feet and walked toward them. “Well, that’s grand for her, isn’t it, brother? I mean, you just want her happiness, ain�
�t that right?”

  Hilton glared at him, then nodded his head. “Yes, of course. That’s all I want. It’s just that I had it all planned out – we were to marry, we’d have two children and I’d teach them how to organize, to save for their future and manage …” He wandered over to the table and sat, his head in his hands.

  Hank shot Pearl an encouraging look, then hurried to his brother’s side. “Yes, but you can still do all those things with whoever you do marry. It does shake things up, I’ll grant, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.” He patted Hilton gently on the back.

  Pearl stepped closer, her hands clasped together. “I’m sorry, Hilton. It’s no reflection on you – it’s just that we don’t know each other all that well. And I’d like to take the time to think it through before I commit myself to someone forever –get to know them, make sure we’d get along, that kind of thing. I figured that if I’m going to do that, I’ll need a way to support myself.”

  “But driving the stage?” interjected Hank, one eyebrow arched. “There wasn’t anything more … suitable?”

  She frowned, her eyes clouding over. “What do you mean, suitable?”

  He stood and faced her, crossing his arms. “I mean drivin’ the stage is dangerous, as Sam would surely tell you. If he could.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m well aware of that. But now that I’m my own woman, I intend to do the things I want to do. And driving the stage would be an adventure.” She sniffed and stamped her foot.

  Hilton stood and stepped between them, straightened his vest and twisted the ends of his mustache. “Well, thank you for letting me know, Miss Stout. I’m going to excuse myself if you don’t mind – I think I’ll get some fresh air. Then perhaps I’ll visit the Perettis. Don’t wait up for me.”