The Winter Pearl. Molly Bull Noble

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      “No, I haven’t.”

      “Then let me prepare you.”

      When he leaned a bit closer, she flinched and pressed her shoulder against the side of the carriage. A hint of puzzlement crossed his face, but then his expression became sober.

      “The first creek will be easy to cross,” he explained. “But some of the rivers ahead are deeper. The currents will be swifter.”

      “Are you trying to scare me, Preacher?” she asked.

      “Not at all.” He chuckled, and a twinkle gleamed in his eyes. “Still, a person should know what to expect.”

      They crossed the first creek easily, just as Jeth had predicted. The banks held only a trickle of water. What he’d said about the rivers worried her, though, because she’d heard that a stagecoach could be swept away by the rapids in an instant.

      Annie and Simon Carr had fallen asleep. Simon snored; the echo of it filled the carriage.

      Jeth laughed softly, sharing his amusement with Honor. She smiled back, giving herself permission to relax. The stress she’d felt since Aunt Harriet died slowly began to melt.

      The ride had been bumpy since they’d left town that morning, but now, all at once, it felt like the carriage hit something large and hard. The coach rocked and tilted to the left. Annie and Simon were jolted awake as they tumbled toward the door. With the stagecoach canted to on one side, Honor slid across the seat, landing in Jeth’s arms.

      “Oh, I’m sorry,” she exclaimed.

      He gazed down at her, and she felt the warmth of his smile.

      If the man weren’t a minister, Honor would say he enjoyed their brief encounter. Then the rig straightened, and she returned to her half of the padded bench.

      Squeaking and jerking, the stagecoach continued down a road, which really wasn’t much more than a set of deep ruts. Then the vehicle stopped. The driver got down from his perch and came to the window on Jeth’s side of the carriage.

      “We’re gonna be going up a steep hill,” the driver told him. “And the horses could sure use some help pushing the load if you two men are of a mind to lend a hand.”

      “Of course we’ll help.” Jeth glanced at Simon. “At least, I will.”

      “Reckon that makes two of us,” Simon added.

      “Now, you be careful, Simon,” Annie warned. “You ain’t as young as you used to be.”

      “Neither are you, my dear.”

      When the two men exited, the driver turned his gaze on the women. “Both you ladies better sit on Mrs. Carr’s side of the coach. ’Cause you’ll be thrown to her side anyway, once we start up that hill.”

      Honor considered offering to help push. She certainly felt fit enough. But Aunt Harriet would have said it wasn’t ladylike to do such a thing, and Honor didn’t want to draw more attention to herself or to be judged improper.

      The stagecoach slowly moved upward at a steep angle. Honor fell against the back of the seat and held down the skirt of her dress to keep it from slipping up and showing her ankles. If she had thought the journey jolted her back and forth before, she needed a new word to describe the ride from that point on.

      At the top of the hill, the carriage stopped again. Honor checked the condition of her clothing. The tan dress had been her aunt’s wedding gown, and the wide lace collar looked soiled—no doubt the result of her dash into town through the woods and a night spent sleeping in it. The pearl buttons that went up to her chin appeared clean enough, but her sleeves were dirty.

      After she’d bought her ticket, she’d placed her remaining paper money in the lace-edged cuff of her right sleeve. After the rough ride to the top of the hill, she wondered if she still had the bills. Pressing her fingers against the cuff at her wrist, she felt the stiff wad and breathed easier.

      Honor moved back to her original seat. She smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt, then stuck her head out the window to see what the world looked like from the top of the hill. She saw three riders coming up behind them at a fast gallop, and her pulse began to race. They wore masks. For a moment, she couldn’t react.

      Outlaws.

      “Jump back inside!” she heard the driver shout to Jeth and Simon Carr. “I’m gonna try to outrun ’em.”

      Both doors flew open. The stagecoach lurched forward—starting off at a fast pace, while the two men crouched on the floor.

      “Get down!” Jeth yelled to the women. “Both of you.”

      Honor jumped to the floor beside Jeth, Annie Carr right behind her. The men pulled pistols from their belts.

      Honor hadn’t expected Jeth to be armed—he was a preacher. However, she felt relieved, knowing he carried protection.

      “Will we be able to outrun ’em?” Annie asked in a shaky voice.

      “Yes, ma’am,” Jeth replied. “I think so. At least, I hope so.”

      Every muscle in Honor’s body tensed as the carriage rolled on down the hill. Clinging to the edge of the bench, she tried to imagine the driver and the man riding shotgun whipping the horses, urging them to run even faster. She could only hope the two men driving the stage could outrun their pursuers.

      The carriage took a sharp curve, wobbling and swaying back and forth over the big rocks. Honor was tossed against Jeth again and again, and he jostled against her.

      She felt a sudden jolt as the carriage lurched sharply. “What’s happening?”

      Jeth peered out a window. “We lost a wheel! I can see it rolling down the hill.”

      The carriage swerved to the right. The screeching cry of iron against rock rang out. All four passengers tumbled to the side of the stagecoach. Honor could scarcely breathe until Jeth pulled her out from under Annie. The crippled rig careened down the hill, half rolling, half dragging. They were coming close to the edge of a cliff. Annie screamed.

      “Move out of my way, Miss McCall!” Jeth shoved Honor to one side and crawled to the door.

      The stagecoach lost speed, then banged against the side of an embankment. They were all thrown to and fro. The rig slid a few more feet. Then stopped.

      “Praise the Lord!” Jeth released a big breath of air and wiped his brow. “Someone must have cut those horses loose. Anybody hurt?” He glanced around and smiled. “Guess not. What a blessing.”

      “We’re safe, then?” Honor asked, feeling a first rush of relief.

      Jeth shook his head and cocked his pistol. “Now we’ll have to deal with the outlaws.”

      Honor shrank to the floor as shots blasted from both directions. Jeth placed his hand on her back to keep her there. At the ring of a bullet hitting metal, Honor glanced out the window just as a rifle flew by.

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