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Carrie nervously smoothed her dress down. She had tried on three of Sarah's before finally settling on a pale pink one with white lace trim. She still could not believe that Sarah had such fancy gowns. They were a far cry away from the farm dresses they'd grown up in.
"What's wrong?" Sarah asked as they walked through the city center.
"I'm not comfortable in this," Carrie replied. "It's too fancy. I should have worn my farm dress."
"You mean the one with the grass and dirt stains? That looked as though you'd spent a fortnight in the forest without washing?"
Carrie blushed. "It wasn't an ideal situation," she admitted. "But Fred and I made it work."
"Have you spoken to the Indian girl who was traveling with you? They mentioned her the other day at the Women's Society."
"Bia?" Carrie asked. "What did they say about her?"
"That she's going to start a forest fire."
Carrie's eyes widened. "Whatever do you mean?"
"She's sending smoke signals to her people in the hopes they will find her."
"Nonsense," Carrie said. "Bia is more than capable enough of finding her own way home. She knew just how to get to Helena. I doubt very much that she's endangering anyone. She's quite an able woman."
"More so than you?" Sarah asked, a light smile playing upon her lips.
Carrie snickered back at her. "More so than you and I put together, I should imagine. She knows how to track, kill, and heal. She is a woman of all trades."
Sarah's eyes widened, and she dropped the subject.
"Perhaps we should return to your home," Carrie said, stumbling up the carriage path.
"Whatever for?"
"So that I might select a different dress. This color does not suit me now that I see it in the light."
Sarah shook her head. "No more stalling. Pearl Connor is a lovely woman and will be more than excited to meet you." They stopped at the end of the trail. "I promise you. She will love you like a mother."
Carrie attempted a smile. Her heart was racing inside her chest. She was certain Sarah must have been able to hear it.
"There is one thing you should know," Sarah said. "Pearl does not know that Fred has been arrested."
Carrie's eyes widened.
"She knows about his crimes, but not that he was captured," Sarah said quickly. "I shall leave it to you to tell her."
"Why me?" Carrie cried.
"Because you are her daughter now."
Carrie sighed. Sarah was right. Carrie was acting like a child. It must stop.
They continued on their way to Pearl's home. Carrie was surprised to see a string of saloons and even a brothel near the edge of town. She had not yet ventured this far, confining herself mostly to the hospital and Sarah's own home. Men stumbled about the wooden walkways, looking for a place to sit. When they found none, they simply sat where they were, blocking the walkways and even roads.
"Pearl lives in... an interesting part of town," Carrie said.
"It is not as bad as it at first appears. No one here will bother you."
Carrie admired the way her sister continued walking as if she were not afraid of anything.
A pretty woman in her twenties leaned against the railing outside of a saloon. She wore a brightly colored, off-the-shoulder dress with a revealing bodice. Her platinum hair was piled high on her head, exposing a long, lithe neck. Her makeup was heavy, and her dress too short. It stopped three inches past her knees, revealing her ankles and most of her shins.
The woman watched the people as they walked past. It looked as though she had stepped out for a break, wanting some fresh air. Carrie had never been inside a saloon, but she imagined them to be smoky and humid. The saloon girl's eyes landed on Sarah and a bright smile broke out on her ruby red lips. She waved.
Sarah waved back.
"Who's that?" Carrie asked her.
"That's Alice Tucker. A friend of mine."
"That woman is a friend of yours?"
Sarah laughed. "Don't be so shocked, sister. Alice is a very nice woman."
"But she's a saloon girl."
They stopped outside a modest, single-story brick home with an old wooden fence around it.
"Do not be so judgmental," Sarah said. "Alice saved the life of my stepson once. She is a good woman in a bad profession. I choose to overlook it in lieu of her better qualities." Carrie could still not picture her sister and that woman strolling through the park together. "Besides," said Sarah, "how would you feel if everyone in town judged you by your actions in the woods with Fred?" She gave Carrie a knowing look.
Carrie blushed and rolled her shoulders back. "Fred and I are married now. None of that should matter."
"That's right. Now, let's go in and say hello to your new mother-in-law."
Carrie's breath hitched in her chest. "You mean we're here?"
"We're here," Sarah replied. She ushered Carrie toward the front door of Pearl's home, knocked lightly, then went inside.
The home was sparsely furnished. The necessities were there—a table, some chairs, etc.—but it was wanting in the little things that made a place feel like a home. There were no paintings on the walls. No scratches in the doorjamb to mark a child's growing height. It was a nice home, it was just... an empty home.
"Hello?" Sarah called. "Pearl?"
"In here," a woman's voice responded. Carrie followed Sarah into a sitting room, wishing she could hide behind her sister's back the whole time. There, on a faded dark green sofa, lay a once-pretty woman as delicate looking as a piece of French lace. Carrie's eyes opened wide in response to her thin arms and even thinner frame. Her breath was labored and with each one she took, her body seemed to quake violently.
"There you are." Sarah smiled at her, setting the bowls they'd brought onto the table. "I thought you might be trying to hide from me."
The woman laughed gently. It made her cough.
"We have soup today," Sarah said. "I brought you some for now, and some for later."
"Thank you, Sarah, dear," the woman said. Her eyes turned to Carrie. She looked questioningly at Sarah.
"Pearl, I want you to meet someone. This is my youngest sister, Carrie."
Pearl may have been frail, but there was nothing wrong with her smile. She offered it to Carrie freely, a warm greeting that made Carrie feel suddenly at ease. She stepped forward and took the woman's hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Carrie said.
"You as well. Might I get you something to drink? I think I have tea." She threw back the blanket that had been covering her and revealed two legs thin as sticks.
They made Carrie's heart stammer. "No," she said at once. "That is quite all right. Do not trouble yourself."
Pearl nodded and pulled the blankets back. Despite her illness, her hair was still thick, though it clung to her head in greasy clumps. It was hard to judge her true age. The illness had left her cheeks hollow and her eyes sunken. She looked fifty-five, perhaps even sixty, but Carrie suspected she was quite far off.
"So," Pearl said, "to what do I owe this pleasure? I'm grateful for one friendly face to talk to each day, but it seems I'm lucky enough to have two of you today." She looked at Carrie uncertainly, but still with that charming smile upon her lips. Fred's smile.
"Perhaps one of you would care to open a window?" Pearl asked. "Let in the breeze?"
"Certainly," said Sarah, already walking that way. Carrie stood awkwardly by, twiddling her fingers. When Sarah walked back past her, she nudged Carrie before taking a seat.
"Pearl, my sister here knows your son."
Carrie could have shot daggers at Sarah. She was not ready for this. Not yet. But Pearl's eyes lit up like the sun at the mention of Fred.
"Is that so?" she asked, her face aglow. "You know my Fred?"
Carrie nodded and took a step forward. "We... that is Fred and I..." She took in a great breath. "I am his wife. I am Carrie Connor."
It was the first time she had said her new name out loud. She liked the sound of it.
Pearl's eyes popped. Her breath stuttered. Carrie looked quickly to Sarah, afraid the woman was having some kind of fit, but Sarah only smiled. Pearl pulled back the covers and rose from the sofa on two very wobbly legs.
She walked to Carrie with arms outstretched and hugged her tightly. Carrie's heart melted. She felt the woman struggle to stand and hugged her back as tightly as she could.
"Thank you," Pearl said.
"For what?" Carrie asked, mystified.
"For loving my son, despite the things he has done."
"I love him dearly," Carrie said, helping the woman back to the couch. They sat together a moment, each contemplating the other.
"When were you married?" Pearl asked.
"It has only been a day."
Pearl's eyes rounded even more. Carrie feared they might fall from her head if they got any bigger. "You married him after his arrest?"
Sarah gasped. "You knew?" she cried.
Pearl nodded. "John told me one night when he was here." Sarah bit her lip, her eyes crossed. "Do not be mad at him. He thought I had a right to know, and he was right. I may be frail, but I am not yet dead."
Carrie smiled. She liked this woman's strength. She had a fire inside her despite her sickly appearance.
Pearl turned her eyes to Carrie.
"I need you to do something for me."
"Of course," Carrie replied, taking her hand. The skin felt as though it might slide off, it was so fragile. "Anything."
"I need you to get my boy out of there before they hang him."
Carrie looked to Sarah, who could only shrug.
"Promise me," Pearl said, her voice steady even if her hands were not. "Promise me you won't let that judge get him."
"I promise," Carrie said. "Fred will be safe. I will make sure of it."
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