The Badger's Revenge (19 page)

“Since last night. There was no word of your fate. I was prepared to wait as long as it took.” Pearl was facing him now, standing less than a foot away. In one easy step that couldn't have been done more gracefully if she had been a professional dancer employed at the Opera House, she snuggled up into Josiah's chest, her arms fully around him in a tight embrace. “I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”

Josiah was surprised but didn't resist, didn't pull away. He welcomed her embrace and was immediately intoxicated by her sweet smell and the feel of her body against his. A thousand emotions shot through his entire body. Finding Pearl waiting for him on his porch was the last thing he had ever expected. Molding his body to hers in a moment of welcome and relief was beyond belief.

Pearl cocked her head to Josiah. Her beauty was breathtaking. He kissed her. Kissed her long and hard, like she was his lover and he'd fought through an entire war just to return to her. She responded in kind, the kiss wholly returned.

Questions floated away, the answers unimportant at the moment. The entire world—past, present, and future—fell away. Feelings began to surface inside of Josiah that he had restrained for a long, long time. And it was then that his body began to respond to his own desire just like his heart had, and he pulled away from Pearl as quickly as she had embraced him.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Don't be.”

It was then that Josiah sensed something else, a presence behind him. He turned just in time to see Scrap stalking off again, this time shaking his head in disgust.

Josiah was sure the boy had witnessed the entire moment with Pearl, and he was certain that that would lead to nothing but trouble. Serious trouble.

At his young age, Lyle wasn't old enough to know
or understand why his father had been away longer than he was supposed to have been. For all Josiah knew, Lyle had barely missed him, had been unaware of his extended absence since there was a normalcy to it. But Lyle reacted happily when Josiah woke him. The two-year-old—almost three-year-old—boy squealed in delight once the sleep was wiped from his eyes.

“Papa!
Me alegro a verte!
”

Josiah looked at the boy oddly. He didn't understand a word his young son had spoken to him.

“He said he's happy to see you,” Pearl said. She was standing at the doorway and must have seen the confused look on Josiah's face.

“I'm going to have to talk to Ofelia.”

Lyle jumped into Josiah's arms.

Pearl shrugged. “There are worse things than a boy learning to speak two languages. Especially here.”

“It might cause him more trouble than it's worth when he's older.” Josiah didn't mean to sound harsh, but his tone must have been harder than he'd intended because Pearl stepped back.

“I'm sorry. He's your son.”

“Papa!” Lyle shouted again, not giving Josiah the opportunity to respond or apologize.

Josiah smiled then. “It's good to see you, too, son. It's good to see you again.”

“Don't go,” Lyle said.

“I'm home now.”

The boy shook his head. “Don't go. Missed you.”

 

 

Night had fallen. Scrap had disappeared. And
Josiah had no choice but to see Pearl Fikes home. He did not take the time to wash the trail off himself, or to settle into being home. There was no way he was going to just thank Pearl and send her on her way . . . but seeing Scrap, realizing that the embrace had been witnessed, had been a public display with them standing on the porch, made Josiah extremely uncomfortable.

The last thing he needed was for Pete Feders to become an enemy. Major John B. Jones, too. One whisper to either man of Pearl Fikes's affection for him would certainly be a nail in the coffin of his career as a Ranger. Though that seemed like an odd thing to be concerned about at the moment. Josiah was also concerned for Pearl. He wasn't sure of her feelings for him, but more importantly, he wasn't sure she could understand his lack of resources to court her properly. There was certainly no question of his desire for her; he most surely wanted to explore their mutual desire for each other as far as it would go. He was sad that it was impossible, that it could never truly ever happen. A relationship with a woman like Pearl Fikes was something beyond a dream for a man like him.

Josiah set out to ready Pearl's buggy. Missy, Scrap's horse, was gone from the stable, and Lady Mead had been properly tended to. He was happy to see Clipper, but the horse didn't show any emotion or gratitude upon seeing Josiah, not that he'd expected any. But Clipper followed Josiah's lead outside and easily took his place, tied to the back of the buggy.

For a November night the air was warm and dry. Any clouds of the day had departed, leaving the sky clear. Interior lights burned brightly in nearly every house and building, casting odd lots of shadows on the dirt street, making it look almost golden.

Josiah pulled the buggy up in front of his house. Pearl was standing there in wait, with Lyle's hand in hers, an odd sight for Josiah to see.

There was a time when he could never have imagined another woman in his life. Josiah had loved Lily fully and completely. But he felt something for Pearl, even though those feelings seemed ill-fated.

He helped Pearl into the buggy, settling Lyle between the two of them on the single seat. The horse, a large black stallion with no hint of white anywhere on its body, responded to Josiah's “giddy-up,” and they were on their way.

“I could have waited to return home until morning,” Pearl said.

Josiah looked away. “That would have been inappropriate.”

“I suppose, in some people's eyes.”

“Pearl,” Josiah said, his voice exasperated. “There is nothing that I would like more than to be able to court you.”

“There is nothing stopping you.”

They passed by the governor's mansion. The lights inside were aglow—gaslights instead of coal oil—brighter, hotter, the gold glow reflecting off the street. It was another Greek Revival building set three hundred yards from the Capitol building, bounded by Lavaca, Guadalupe, Tenth, and Eleventh streets. The bricks had been made in Austin, and the pillars were made of pine logs, shipped thirty-three miles southeast, from Bastrop. The big house was a reflection of Texas through and through.

“There is, Pearl, and you know it. Besides your mother never permitting my presence in a proper setting, I have other considerations.”

“Peter.”

“Yes, Captain Feders. I know of his feelings for you.”

“You should let me worry about Peter and Mother.”

“If only it were that easy, Pearl, but it's not.”

Lyle snuggled in between the two of them. The boy had been especially well behaved since Josiah's return, more than happy to be at his father's side.

For a moment, Josiah let his imagination run with the image, the three of them in the buggy, the day sunny and happy, all of them dressed in finery, everything perfect, full of love. But it was just for a moment, and Josiah knew more than anyone that the idea of them as a family was just a fantasy.

All he had to do was convince Pearl of that.

Pedro, the manservant on the Fikes estate, met
Josiah and Pearl at the door.

The house was grand, not far from the governor's mansion in both distance and style—smaller, but still impressive. The deceased Captain Hiram Fikes had spent little time on the estate when he was alive, and Josiah knew little of the history, how the house had come into being and whose money had financed it, but he secretly suspected that the captain had married into money. If that was the case, then the past might be a predictor of his own future, one of the reasons, among many, that he felt incapable of courting Pearl.

Captain Fikes had obviously been uncomfortable with his marriage arrangement, since he'd had a secret relationship with Suzanne del Toro, “Fat Susie,” purveyor of soiled doves and a savvy businesswoman of ill repute in Little Mexico, and spent so much time away from the house and estate on official Ranger business.

There was little to convey the captain's unhappiness based on outside appearances. The house was made of brick and had four white columns that held up a gabled roof over a two-storey portico. It looked as if a view had been important, since the grand house looked out over a calm meadow, with a pond nearly in the center of it.

It was by the pond where Josiah had first encountered Pearl the previous spring, had felt an attraction to her even though he was still grieving for his own lost family, and had kissed her more by accident than on purpose, unlike what had just happened. This kiss had been no accident—it was like the long awaited arrival of sunshine after a horrifying storm. He could bearly stand to be near Pearl without touching her in some way or another.

There was acreage to the estate, though Josiah did not know how much. There were two barns full of equipment and a bunkhouse for plenty of hands to plant and harvest crops, tend to the horses and other livestock, mostly a nice herd of cattle.

If the estate had been far out in the hill country, it might have qualified for a ranch, albeit a small one, but inside the confines of Austin proper, Josiah doubted it held that classification.

On his last visit, he had accidentally spied Pearl and Pete Feders in a heated conversation behind one of the barns, and it was there that he witnessed Pearl rejecting Pete's offer of marriage. This return to the estate was uncomfortable for Josiah, especially when he factored in the obvious dislike the Widow Fikes held for him, even though he never could figure out why she disliked him so much.

“It is good to see you again, Ranger Wolfe,” Pedro said.

The manservant was an inch or two taller than Josiah and was one of the most refined Mexicans that Josiah had ever encountered. He was dressed in traditional garb, a black frock coat over a highly starched white shirt, black string tie with perfectly equal bows, and flawless black pants void of lint or creases. Pedro looked like a mortician, except that he wore white gloves.

The Mexican spoke without much of an accent, and Josiah had learned previously that the Widow Fikes had sent Pedro back east to some highfalutin college for an education before assigning him permanently to his manservant duties. Pedro essentially ran the house and most all of the business activities on the estate, as far as Josiah knew.

It had been less than a year since the death of her husband, so the Widow Fikes was still officially in mourning, still wearing the heavy dress some women called weeds. Word was, the widow barely left her bed on most days, and when she did, it seemed her goal in life was to make everyone who crossed her path as miserable as she was.

“Yes, it's good to see you again, too,” Josiah answered.

“The chance of your survival seemed grim,” Pedro said.

Pearl stood silently by Josiah's side. Lyle was sitting in the buggy. A tall windup grandfather clock ticked behind Pedro. Somewhere in the distance a campfire burned on the estate, the smell of fresh cooked steak wafting on the breeze. Probably one of the hands that worked for the Widow Fikes.

Josiah nodded. “I assure you that my survival was in serious question, Pedro. I feel lucky to be standing here on your doorstep.”

“Miss Pearl, your mother has been worried about your absence,” Pedro said. “She was going to send for you, but I convinced her to allow for more time.”

“She noticed I was gone?” Pearl's tone was sharper than normal, and Josiah recognized and remembered the tension that existed between Pearl and her mother. Pearl favored Captain Fikes in demeanor and attitude, which meant, unfortunately for her mother, that she had a mind of her own.