Page 4 of Suncatcher

Pearl’s hands froze. “Here?”

“Dunno yet. That’s the question, isn’t it? Two company folks showed up to see me yesterday.”

“Rude, during a wedding. Is that where you disappeared off to? You missed the dancing.”

Her mother smiled tightly. “I didn’t miss it.” The wooden foot tapped again, pointedly.

Pearl rolled her eyes, finally finding the silver cigarette holder in her own duster jacket crumpled in the corner. The foot didn’t stop the sheriff from doing anything else she pleased. “You could dance. You just don’t wanna.”

She selected one of her hand-rolled cigarettes from the left half of the holder. She needed a clear head this morning, and the trace amounts of illegal blight mixed with the tobacco would bring her one. For a while at least. She stuck it between her teeth, lighting it with a match from the box on the windowsill.

Pearl inhaled deeply, the distinct, lightly sweet powder hitting her lungs in little sparkles. The blight buzzed through her veins, tingling beneath her skin, and she gathered it up into her head. Like squeezing a snake to force it to spit up a vermin it just ate.

The headache immediately subsided, though it’d be back when the effects of the blight ran out. But by then, she’d be moving.

Blight was a finicky substance. Useful but dangerous, and frequently unpredictable, it gave a temporary burst of power mortals were never meant to have.

She inhaled again and held out the smoldering cigarette.

Her mother took it and mimicked her. She clearly tasted the illicit blight, but she didn’t comment. She’d been the one to teach Pearl how to use and control it long ago.

Sheriff Oak passed the cigarette back. “The company hasn’t decided on the route it’ll take west. Could either go north of the bluffs, which’d take it right by here. Or south. Through the flats.”

Pearl scowled. “By Faltsprings.”

Sheriff Oak nodded, mouth thin.

“So what?” Pearl shared the end of the cigarette back. “You don’t like the railroad anyway.”

“I don’t. If I wanted city, I’d live in the damn city. But it’s coming. And since it is, I want it to come here, not down there. Think of how much safer and easier shipments of salt to Plainsburgh would be. Just a day or two by rail.” Currently it took over a week by wagon.

Pearl narrowed her eyes in grudging agreement. “So what’d you want me to do?”

“Railroad means more folks, which means more trouble. I wanna put on a show for the company commissioner when he comes. But more than that, we’ve got fences that need fixing and strengthening. Marcus is taking a wagon up the gorge for some timber this morning.”

“Why him?” Pearl asked sharply.

“Because he volunteered. And I don’t got a reason yet to say no.”

“He’s an outsider. His brother lives in Faltsprings.”

“I know. I don’t trust him either, after those cattle got mired in the fields this spring. Which is why I want you to go.”

Pearl strapped on her holsters. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Pearl walked several paces behind the others, wind and sweat plastering hair to the back of her neck. The river that carved along the steep silty cliffs by their town of Salt Bluff was one of many running from somewhere deep in the crag’s heartland. Farther up, it flowed from a gorge that provided the shade, protection, and nutrients to grow trees tall and straight for timber—rare and valuable in these parts, and a poorly kept secret. It was about half a day’s journey from Salt Bluff, and by the time they reached it, the sun hit the crest of its peak.

Passing the stumps of previous harvestings overgrown by tall grass and springy saplings, they finally approached a stand of old, straight trees.

Pearl sank down in the shade and pulled out a fresh cigarette. A normal one this time, made of simply tobacco.

“You gonna help us, Princess Pea?” Marcus asked, cutting her a dark look.

“Nah.” Pearl kicked her feet out as she fished for her matchbox in a pocket of her waistcoat. “You got it.”

Marcus grumbled to himself as he faced the stand. The others in their party, Billy and Willy, had already taken up their axes and started chopping.

Puffy clouds, the sort that could turn to storms quickly, punctuated the blue sky. Pearl eyed them as she enjoyed her smoke, carefully snubbing the butt out and crushing it beneath her boot in the dirt before pocketing it. Then she sighed, shrugged off her duster, and cuffed the blue pinstripe sleeves of her shirt.