The Winter Pearl

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“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 cleared his throat.

The doctor jerked forward. His eyes popped open.

Mrs. Peters placed a steaming cup of coffee before the doctor. “Here ya go, Alvin.” She poured fresh coffee into Jeth’s cup and returned to the stove.

Steam from both cups curled up and disappeared into the air. The doctor reached for his cup and took a swallow of the hot liquid. He made a sighing noise of contentment.

“Well, Doctor,” Jeth prompted, “what can you tell us about Miss McCall? Is she going to be all right?”

“She’s still dizzy and sick to her stomach. The pain in her head bothers her, too.” The doctor took another mouthful of coffee and swallowed. “Though she’s improving nicely, I’ve told her to stay in bed for at least a week. She didn’t like hearing that, and I can’t blame her. It’s no fun, staying in all the time with nothing much to do but look out the window. I’m counting on you and your mother to keep her from being bored. Can you find the time to do that, son?”

Jeth had a few more humorous anecdotes involving Timmy and the other children from his congregation that he could relate. He hoped they would amuse Honor.

“Yes, sir,” Jeth said. “I think I can.”

“I know you can,” Dr. Harris replied approvingly. “A young man like you can do anything he sets his mind to do.” The doctor looked over at Jeth’s mother and smiled. “Isn’t that right, Regina?”

“I believe so,” she said.

Dr. Harris turned back to Jeth. “Your mama and I might have some news to tell you.” He winked, then nodded toward Regina Peters. “Come on over here, woman, and let’s get this job over with.”

Jeth saw his mother’s cheeks turn a rosy pink as she came to the doctor’s side. Dr. Harris pulled a chair next to his own and draped his arm across the back. “Sit right here, Regina, where I can keep you close.”

She ducked her head shyly, then sat down and blushed some more.

Jeth’s grin grew and he felt excitement at what he thought would be good news. “Are you two getting married?”

“You betcha,” the doctor said.

“When?”

“Right after the first of the year.”

Jeth rose from his chair. “Congratulations.” He went around the table and hugged them both. “I couldn’t be happier.” He gave his mother an extra squeeze. “But why wait?”

The doctor grinned at Regina. “Your mama said she has some things she has to do first. Promises to keep.” Dr. Harris turned his smile on Jeth. “And we want you to perform the ceremony. Will you, son?”

Jeth nodded. “I would be honored. Welcome to the family, Doctor.”

“Welcome to my family, son.” The doctor patted Jeth on the back. “I guess you’ll really be my son soon, won’t you.”

“Yes, sir. I guess I will.”

Jeth was glad his mother had found love again after all these years, and he’d always liked Dr. Harris. But he couldn’t help wondering what would become of the boardinghouse after his mother married.

Should he start looking for a new place to live?

Chapter Six

Late-afternoon shadows darkened the cream-colored walls of Honor’s bedroom. She barely noticed. Turning on her side to examine Jeth’s face, she struggled to keep the heavy, brown and rose-colored patchwork quilt over her shoulders. The wood-burning stove wasn’t lit, but she felt warm and safe under the covers.

Again, Jeth sat in the chair by her bed. His dark, curly hair looked thick and shiny. Lights flickered in his blue eyes.

Honor owed Jeth and his mother a huge debt of gratitude for finding her on the road when they did. However, she still hoped to leave as soon as possible. Next time she wouldn’t write a letter revealing her plans. Nor did she intend to give any information about her past.

Jeth leaned forward as if he had something important to say. “Are you all right, Miss McCall?”

He placed his hand on her forehead as he’d done before, and she felt his rough fingers.

“You don’t have a fever, ma’am. I sure am glad.”

She thought he looked a little flustered as he removed his hand. Had touching her face embarrassed him?

“Mama said you haven’t been sleeping well—that before you really came to yourself, you tossed and turned a lot. Once she heard you scream like you’d just had a bad dream. As a pastor, I would like to help, if I can. Is something bothering you?”

“Nothing’s bothering me,” she lied. “But what happened on the stagecoach was frightening. The dreams are probably the result of that, don’t you think?”

“That’s possible, of course.”

He cocked his head, and she wondered if he truly believed her explanations. Or did he know her for the thief and liar she actually was?

“Would you like me to send a message to your uncle so he’ll know what happened to you?” he asked. “I think it might help.”

“My uncle?” Honor stiffened. “No! Don’t write him!”

She thought his steady gaze had a skeptical edge to it, and she immediately regretted her response. It had been too emotional, too strong. She should have spoken more calmly, given logical answers. Forcing a smile, Honor tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

“I would rather you not tell my uncle about the stage robbery or where I am,” she said softly, at last.

“Why not?”

She quickly searched her mind for an answer, a lie. “We quarreled and shouldn’t see each other for a while.”

“Very well.” Jeth frowned. “But you should know that I disagree with you. I think you should contact your uncle as soon as possible.” A skeptical expression remained on his face. “Nevertheless, I will honor your wishes.”

Her problems with her uncle went far beyond a mere quarrel. Still, it would be too embarrassing if churchgoing people like Jeth and his mother knew the real reasons she never wanted to see Lucas again. Not only would it hurt to admit that Lucas was an evil man, but also Honor didn’t want the Peters to know about her sins.

“Do you have any other relatives who I might contact?” Jeth placed his elbow on the arm of his chair and propped his chin in his hand. “Like a mother and a father?”

“My parents were missionaries living in Mexico when they died of a fever. I was too young to remember them. My two older brothers died when my parents did. My aunt and grandmother were the only relatives I had.”

He grew silent, but an expression that Honor identified as concern seemed to soften his eyes. Had her words affected him, perhaps more deeply than she could comprehend?

“It couldn’t have been easy growing up without parents.”

“No,” she said, “it wasn’t.”

His face looked tight and pinched, and he folded his hands loosely between his knees. “I never knew my father. He died soon after I was born. But at least I have a mother.”

“I had an aunt.” She looked away from Jeth. “Until now.”

In spite of a harsh life at the hands of her uncle, memories of her aunt’s humor and warmth filled her mind. She never knew how Aunt Harriet managed to rise above all her troubles, but she always did.

As more happy memories rose, Honor looked up at Jeth and smiled. “She told me things about my parents I’ll treasure forever.”

All at once, Honor had the desire to share some of those treasures with Jeth. “My aunt said my father called me his little Rose of Sharon, and sometimes Aunt Harriet did, too.”

Jeth had been gazing down at his black boots, but at her words he looked up into Honor’s eyes and smiled. “Rose of Sharon,” he repeated. “Why would they call you that?”

“My mother’s name was Sharon, and my middle name is Rose. For them, it might have seemed right to call me by that name.” She smiled. “The Rose of Sharon part could also have come about because one set of my grandparents was from Scotland. Rose sounds Celtic, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know, but you certainly have a Scottish look about you.”

Honor blinked. “Do I?”

He grinned. “With all that long auburn hair and those honey-brown eyes, I would say so. Rose of Sharon is the name of a flower that grows in Mama’s garden. But did you know the Rose of Sharon is also mentioned in the Bible?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“The term is found in the first verse of the second chapter of Song of Solomon.”

“I don’t know much about the Bible.”

He glanced down at his boots again. “I see.”

“But if it’s there, I guess that explains where the name came from.” She wondered if he was surprised to learn that she wasn’t a Bible scholar? Could it be that he was disturbed to realize she wasn’t a churchgoer, either? He should have guessed how things were at her home by what Lucas had said and done at the cemetery.

“As I said, my parents were missionaries,” she continued. “Aunt Harriet said the Good Book was very important to them.”

The young pastor seemed to have disappeared into another void of silence. Had she revealed more than she should?

At last, Jeth looked up again. He smiled, but to Honor his expression seemed counterfeit.

“Mama and I have been talking,” he said. “We would like to offer you employment.”

Employment? Honor was shocked. Who would want to hire her to do anything? She started to sit up, then remembered the importance of modesty and slipped under the covers once more. “Why me?” she asked.