Page 39 of Suncatcher

Driz thought quickly. What could she ask for? “One of those music makers. The metal ones.”

Pearl’s brow wrinkled. “What?”

“The buzzy metal music boxes. That humans play with their mouths.”

“A harmonica?”

“Yes.” Driz had no idea if that was correct, but it didn’t really matter.

Pearl stared at her. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll try to find you one.”

And she was gone.

Mayor Wallace lived in the fanciest house in town. Set back from the main street, it had actual trees, scraggly and short though they were, growing in an attempt at symmetry in the front.

Pearl tugged at her starched scarf, resenting it as she climbed the steps behind her mother, who had forgone the stained duster jacket for once. She wore a dark blue silk blouse with the hint of a ruffle down the front and circling the high neck. It looked lovely on her, and Pearl’s gut twisted at the sight. Sheriff Oak only ever wore it for the serious occasions. Like funerals. And perhaps this was a funeral in its own way.

Wallace greeted them in the parlor. “Please, come in,” he said, all affable. But his smile was tentative. He knew who was really in charge of the town, and that was for the best. He looked at Pearl. “Thanks so much for coming as well. My lovely Clara is indisposed after the wedding.”

Pearl had landed the job of acting as a poor replacement hostess. She smirked at Wallace. “Don’t worry. If there’s one thing I’m very good at, it’s entertaining women. I even polished my teeth.”

Wallace chuckled nervously and Sheriff Oak narrowed her eyes at Pearl in a silent censure.

The commissioner from the rail company arrived fashionably late, rolling up in a once-dark carriage that had no business on these roads. The suited man stepped down into a cloud of dust, already sweating profusely and clinging to his young, pretty wife, who was draped in a frilled skirt.

“Commissioner, welcome,” Wallace said, ushering them inside.

Greetings were exchanged, and Sheriff Oak gave Pearl a meaningful look.

Pearl took that as her cue. She inclined her head at the wife. “Mrs. Graham, how’d you like a tour of the architecture? There’s a great view of the fields from the back porch.”

The lady looked a bit taken aback, but she nodded and hesitantly placed her hand on Pearl’s offered elbow, letting her steer them out of the room and into the hall. “I hope the lady of the house is not too unwell.”

“Don’t think so. But she just got married and been ill since. Too much dancing and cake, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“I’m certain it was stressful. I did as well. Get married, that is. Just this spring, to my Matthew.”

“Congrats.”

Mrs. Graham eyed Pearl. “I take it you are not married, Miss Pearl?”

Pearl snorted. “Please just call me Pearl. Let’s not pretend there’s much missish about me.”

The young lady laughed lightly, and her cheeks pinkened as her gaze dipped to Pearl’s glinting mouth. She really was pretty, and if Pearl was reading her correctly, perhaps not overly enamored with her husband. “Then you must call me Cecilia.”

“If you’d like, Cecilia. Do you enjoy the architecture?” Pearl gestured vaguely as they walked down the hall. “The walls, as you can see, are papered. And the crown molding is…shaped.”

Cecilia laughed again, her body pressing closer. “It is very quaint. I hope you aren’t too disappointed you’ve been tasked with distracting me with crown molding as they talk business?”

“I’m quite fine with my task.” The lady was definitely flirting with her. Pearl could flirt back.

“Do most women dress like you and the sheriff out here?”

“Some do. I’ve always found skirts inconvenient. Unless I’m not the one wearing one. Then they’re quite convenient.”

Cecilia’s white teeth dug into her lower lip temptingly. Yes, she definitely understood that.

Pearl held the door open and let the young woman precede her out onto the back porch, which faced the bluffs and cragland rising behind.