When the meal was finished, Millie poured coffee, lingering beside Cal as she leaned close to remove his empty plate.
“I made apple cobbler,” she announced.
When she returned from the kitchen, she placed an oversize slice in front of Cal.
“How did that cowboy get so lucky?” the marshal asked.
“I happen to know it’s his favorite.” Millie added a dollop of sweet cream before returning to the kitchen for more coffee.
“I thought Carmelita’s pie was your favorite,” Pearl muttered under her breath.
“It is. When Carmelita’s doing the cooking,” he said with a grin.
“Why, I didn’t realize what a charmer you were, Mr. McCabe,” she whispered in sugary tones.
Before he could manage a reply, Millie returned to top off their cups with more coffee.
“Did you get enough to eat?” she asked as she refilled Cal’s cup.
“More than enough.” His smile faded when he caught the knowing look in Pearl’s eye. He nearly burned his tongue as be downed the scalding liquid, then hurriedly pushed away from the table. “It’s time we got moving. We have a long ride ahead of us.”
He held their chairs as the three Jewel sisters got to their feet and said their goodbyes. In the hallway, Millie retrieved their shawls and escorted them to the front door. As they took their leave, she placed a hand on Cal’s sleeve, holding him back.
Jade and Ruby chatted as they made their way to the waiting carnage. But, even over the sound of her sisters’ voices, Pearl managed to overhear snatches of Millie’s words to Cal.
“I’d forgotten what a good cook you were,” he said as he counted out the coins for their meal.
“Now that your memory has been refreshed, I hope you won’t stay away so long.”
“I’ll try not to.”
The three little girls ran up behind their mother and peeked out at Cal. He winked and tugged on their curls, causing them to giggle and squeal in laughter.
Pulling on his hat, he strolled to the carriage. As he flicked the reins, he gave a brief wave of his hand. The woman and her daughters remained in the doorway, waving until the carriage and its occupants were out of sight.
Pearl studied Cal’s straight back, his broad shoulders, the way his sun-bronzed fingers curled around the leather reins. While Jade and Ruby laughed and chatted, she fell deeper into silence. What was the matter with her? The Reverend Weston’s sermon had been rousing. The singing soothing. And Millie Potter’s food as satisfying as any she’d tasted since she left Boston. She ought to feel on top of the world. Instead, she had to struggle to chase away a feeling of gloom.
There was only one cure for it. As soon as they returned to the ranch, she would ride out to the cabin. Even though the day was half-over, there would be a couple of hours of daylight left. Enough time to polish the classroom in preparation for the morning.
Hard work. That was what was needed to keep her mind off her troubling thoughts.
Cal’s horse ambled up the hill, moving at a slow, leisurely pace. Twilight was settling over the land, casting the hills in bloodred shadows.
As his gaze scanned the land, he noted the flicker of light in Onyx’s old deserted cabin. He would have to stop thinking of it as that, he told himself. It was no longer a deserted cabin. Now it was the new schoolhouse.
Tied to a rail out front was a horse and rig, signaling that Pearl was still there.
Drawing near, he could make out her figure, cloth in hand, scrubbing a row of mismatched chairs and overturned barrels that would serve as desks.
Cal dismounted and watched through the open door. Pearl paused, pressing a hand to the small of her back. She straightened and gave a little sigh, then resumed her work until the chair she was scrubbing was as clean as the others.
Satisfied, she gave a look around. In the glow of the lantern, her eyes danced with unconcealed pleasure. The floor and walls sparkled. The clean desks were arranged in a neat, orderly row. A shelf along one wall held a cache of precious books. She dropped the rag into a bucket of water and wrung it out, then began to wash another desk.
He watched her a few minutes, then stepped inside, alerting her to his presence. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“Oh, you startled me!” She turned to face him.
There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, and he thought about brushing it off. Instead, he curled his hand into a fist at his side. A wisp of her hair had pried loose from the ribbons to fall seductively over one eye. It was the closest she’d ever come to looking mussed.
“Why don’t you leave that for the men to do?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t dream of taking them away from their chores to do something I can manage on my own.”
She was surprised when Cal picked up a second rag and began to work alongside her. “Haven’t you done enough today?”
He shrugged. “After the day I put in, this seems like child’s play.”
“This child’s play,” she said lightly, “has my muscles aching and my back protesting.”
He shot her an admiring glance as she continued to work despite her weariness.
They worked together in companionable silence.
When the last desk was clean, she tossed aside the cloth and washed her hands, while he went outside and returned with an armload of wood for the fireplace. He knelt and positioned the logs, then added kindling.
“All you’ll have to do in the morning is light this to take the chill off the cabin,” he told her.
“Thank you.” She watched as he stood and wiped his hands on his pants. “Carmelita sent one of the wranglers out here with a basket of food. Will you join me?”
He was surprised by the offer. And unnerved by it. He didn’t think he was ready to share a secluded supper with Pearl Jewel. Not the way she’d been affecting him lately.
“No, thanks. I’ll just be on my way.”
At that moment, she uncovered the basket, displaying fried chicken and golden biscuits still warm from the oven.
“I’ll never eat all this.” She laughed, and the warm, lilting sound had his tension evaporating. “It’s obvious that Carmelita is accustomed to cooking for men. Men with hearty appetites, I might add.”
Cal’s mouth watered, and before he could stop himself he said, “I guess I could eat something. It’s been a long day. And since it’s so late, I figured I’d have to settle for whatever Cookie had left.”
Pearl spread the linen covering-over her desktop and began setting out the food. Along with assorted pieces of chicken and biscuits were several spring vegetables and a canteen of water.
“Now I know Carmelita thinks she’s cooking for wranglers,” Pearl said with a chuckle. “I haven’t eaten this much since I was twelve, when Charley Springer dared me to enter the pie-eating contest at our church picnic.”
Cal shot her a look of disbelief. “You accepted his dare?”
“How could I refuse?” She laughed again. “I was sick for two days. And I haven’t been able to look at a blueberry pie since. But I beat Charley. And took home the ribbon”
Cal tried to picture this perfect woman with her face buried in blueberry pies. But it was an impossible task. Even as a child, she’d probably been all pink and spotless. And driving the boys crazy. Still, the fact that she’d accepted a dare had him looking at her with new respect. He was going to have to adjust his perception of Pearl Jewel.
He held her chair, then pulled a wooden stool beside the desk and straddled it. He bit into the chicken, closing his eyes a moment in pure pleasure.
Pearl enjoyed watching him eat. He made the ordinary act of chewing food seem like a rare treat. With each taste of Carmelita’s biscuits, each bite of chicken, he seemed to soften, to grow more mellow.
“Why do you want to teach?” he asked as he ate.
His question brought a gentle smile to her lips. “I guess I’ve always known I would be a teacher. It was what my father wanted for me. My mother was a teache
r. A good one. And I watched as the children in our neighborhood learned to read and write under her guidance. There’s something wonderful about satisfying the need for knowledge.” She glanced at the chicken in his big hand. “It’s like filling a hunger. Any hunger.”
Now that was a simple, succinct answer that Cal readily understood. And one that caught him by surprise.
“I’d like the future to be brighter for the children of Hanging Tree,” she added softly. “And if I can be a small part of that future, I’ll be grateful.”
“I hope you’re right, Pearl. I hope the things you teach the children will improve their lives. I only wish you’d chosen to teach them in town, instead of way out here.”
There it was again. That note of censure. And though she tried to ignore the little twinge of pain, it slipped through her defenses, cutting as sharply, as unexpectedly, as the page of one of her precious books had cut her finger earlier.
“I don’t mean that as criticism,” he said gently. “But this place is awfully secluded. If you discovered yourself in need of help, there would be none to be found.”
“It isn’t that far to the ranch house. Besides, I’m sure there are a lot of ranchers who find themselves secluded.” She shrugged. “They survive, don’t they?”
Cal could tell her a lot about survival in this rough country. He thought of the women, old before their time. And the children, forced to do the work of adults, for the sake of survival. Instead, he decided to change the subject. “Tell me about your childhood in Boston,” he said unexpectedly.
She was caught by surprise, and was more than a little flattered that he would care. “I suppose to some it seemed lonely. My mother and I kept to ourselves.”
“Why?” he asked.
“We...kept to a very small circle of friends.” Uncomfortable beneath his gaze, she ducked her head and uncovered a linen-wrapped mound, which turned out to be an enormous slice of apple pie.
Grateful for the interruption, she shoved the pie toward Cal. “I’m afraid you’ll have to eat this,” she said. “I don’t have room for another thing.”
“No, thanks.” He was determined to be polite. But his mouth was already watering. “I’ve eaten enough of your supper. Besides, it isn’t blueberry. Go ahead and enjoy it.”
They laughed at the shared joke. To settle the dispute, she cut off a small portion for herself, then passed the rest to him.
He needed no prodding as he dug into the pie, then washed it down with a long, cool drink from the canteen.
“You still haven’t told me much about your childhood,” he said.
She sighed, reluctant to pursue the topic further. “By the time I was barely past crawling, my mother saw to it that I could read and write and do sums. A neighbor taught me music....” She blushed slightly, seeing the way he lifted a brow.
“Music?”
“Piano and voice,” she explained. “Though I had no aptitude for it. And another neighbor taught me needlework, which I greatly disliked. My mother believed that everyone should be taught to be useful. In exchange for their lessons, my mother taught their children reading and writing. When I grew old enough, I was sent to a women’s academy, where I completed my education.”
“You actually attended an academy?”
She nodded. “I needed to prepare myself for a profession. And there was never any doubt that I would choose to become a teacher like my mother.”
He didn’t say anything. Merely stared at her in a strange, guarded way.
She felt her cheeks redden. Though she couldn’t think why, she had the distinct impression that she had said something revealing. To a man who had grown up in a harsh, demanding wilderness, her childhood probably sounded foolish. Perhaps he had already dismissed her as a spoiled, pampered female who knew nothing more than how to read, sew a pretty seam and make silly, useless music.
“My mother died just before graduation, and then, before I could put my education to good use, Daddy died.” She shrugged expressively. “And here I am. In Hanging Tree, Texas.”
Again he said nothing. He helped her gather the remains of their supper into the basket. After replacing the linen wrap on top, she glanced up to find him still studying her.
He swung away, returning the wooden stool to the corner of the room. “Thanks for sharing your supper with me, Pearl.”
“I...enjoyed it.” And, she realized, that was the truth. She had enjoyed this unexpected interruption in her evening.
But, as usual, she had said or done something to keep it from going smoothly, though she couldn’t think what it had been.
“Come on.” Cal blew out the lantern, then picked up the basket and placed a hand beneath her elbow. “It’s time we got back to the ranch.”
Outside, he secured the latch, then helped her into the rig and tied his horse behind it. He climbed up beside her and flicked the reins.
“I have a question.”
At the deep timbre of his voice, she turned to him.
The moonlight cast his face in light and shadow, giving him a dangerous, mysterious look. “You said you needed to prepare yourself for a profession. Why?”
“Did I—?” She nearly lost her voice and tried again. “Did I say that?”
He nodded.
She ran a tongue over her lips, cursing her clumsiness. Now that she had let it slip, there was nothing to do but try to muddle through. But, oh, how she wished she’d never allowed herself to reveal something so personal.
“Because,” Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. “The students at the academy were divided into two groups. Those who would marry, and needed to learn certain social skills, and those who were preparing for a profession.” She took a deep breath. “I fell into the second group.”
He kept his gaze on the trail. “And why would a young, pretty female think she would never marry?”
She should have been flattered by his question. Instead, it only made her all the more uncomfortable. “I was...That is, my mother wasn’t...” She squared her shoulders and said in a rush of words, “As you well know, my mother and Onyx Jewel were never married. In Boston, no proper gentleman would ever consider marrying a woman who wasn’t...respectable.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she went on quickly, “A woman who couldn’t be welcomed into a man’s family, his church and his community was not marriageable. So I knew I would never marry. I needed to prepare for my future. A future of service.”
She ducked her head and missed the look of anger that crossed Cal’s face.
His hands tightened perceptibly on the reins. “What went on between your father and mother has nothing to do with you, Pearl.”
“Of course it does.” She lifted her head to study the canopy of glittering stars in the sky. “All my life, I’ve had to live with the knowledge that I was being judged, not only on the way I lived my life, but on how my parents chose to live theirs. If I should make one mistake, one misstep, people would say I was just doing what came naturally.”
“You make it sound as though you were ashamed of your mother and father.”
“Don’t ever think that,” she said in protest. “I was very proud of my mother. And I want to be like her. I want to fill young minds with knowledge. As for my father, I adored him, though I hardly knew him.” She struggled to keep her tone even. “But people can be very cruel. The fact that my parents never married was common knowledge. And for the very proper people of Boston, it was a barrier. Though they tried to be fair, they thought less of me.”
“What do you care what others think?”
She shrugged and tried to smile. But her voice wavered slightly. “When you hear it often enough, Cal, you care.”
Oh, how well he knew that.
His tone softened. Without thinking, he patted her hands, which were clenched tightly together. At once he felt the familiar rush of heat. “I guess it’s time you heard what your father told me many years ago.”
Surprised, she lifted her head to glance u
p at him.
“You’re in Texas now, Pearl.” His fingers squeezed lightly, as if to emphasize his words. “Out here, you’re not judged by the cards you’re dealt, but by the way you play them.”
For some strange reason, her throat felt clogged. She had to swallow several times before she managed to say, “I’ll...try to remember.”
The silence of the night seemed to close in around them. Even the clatter of the wheels, and the horses’ hoofbeats, seemed muffled.
This time, as they pulled up at the door to the ranch house, Cal made no move to climb down.
Surprised, Pearl turned toward him. And found him staring intently at her.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“Nothing. It’s just that I...” He leaned toward her, and she felt the warmth of his breath against her cheek. “I like looking at you.”
Sweet heaven, he was going to kiss her. She started to draw back, but his hand was at the back of her head, holding her still. And then his lips moved over hers, in a kiss as soft as a misty raindrop.
She thought about pulling away. Thought about it, but didn’t. Couldn’t. The fact was, she found it impossible to move. All she could do was sit, rigid with shock, while his mouth nuzzled hers.
He drew back a moment. With his big hands framing her face, he stared down into her eyes. His thumbs traced the outline of her lower lip. “You taste sweeter than apple cobbler. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask for seconds.”
She sighed as he lowered his head. This time, caught up in the intensity of the moment, she leaned into him, offering him what he sought.
His mouth covered hers in a hot, hungry kiss. Now there was no tenderness, no gentleness. His arms closed around her, pressing her so tightly to him, she could feel his heartbeat thundering in her own chest.
A little moan escaped her lips as she gave herself up to the pleasure. When his tongue slid between her parted lips, she was shocked at her reaction. Instead of backing away, she touched her tongue tentatively to his and felt a jolt clear to her toes.
And all the while he was kissing her, his hands were moving along her back, igniting little fires over her flesh. Awash in strange new feelings, her blood heated. Needs she’d never even known existed began pulsing and throbbing deep inside.