Read Online Summer of Pearls by Mike Blakely - Free Book Online Page B

not a problem anymore, but a thing of beauty.”
    She turned her mouth into a voluptuous smirk. “What about the tears of angels?”
    â€œThere may be some truth to that, too. Don’t you believe in angels?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDon’t you believe they cry?”
    She paused, thinking. “Yes.” She spoke now with less bitterness. “I even know why.”
    Billy nodded. “Sell the pearls and use the money to your advantage. That’s my advice.”
    She folded her arms in front of her. “I don’t need your advice. They’re my pearls. I won’t agree to sell them just because you come in here with a bunch of stories and put a high price on them.” She scoffed. “What makes you think I believe you? What do you care about me?”
    He shrugged. “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll contact the pearl-buyer.” He stood, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. “I found something today. I want you to have it.” He came around the table as he untied a knot in the handkerchief. He turned the corners back and revealed the white pearl from Goose Prairie Cove. He picked it up and placed it in her hand. “This one’s worth another hundred and fifty or so.”
    Carol Anne was seething. Now she had him figured out. He knew
what she was, and she knew what he wanted. In spite of his fancy talk and his good looks and his heroism, he was just another riverboat man. She suddenly doubted that he had ever read about pearls at all, or had ever been to the South Sea. He was just making it all up to exaggerate the value of the gift, hoping she would respond in kind.
    Still, she was ready to earn that pearl. He didn’t know about her power. She could snuff the lantern and turn him into someone else. He would never even realize it. She would keep the pearl, and under its rainbow luster, imprison a million visions of bliss. She didn’t need him. She only needed his pearl. She closed her palm around it and began deciding who he would be when he crawled into her bed.
    â€œLike I said, I’ve had some bad luck with pearls. I’d just as soon somebody else had it who appreciates it.” He went to the door and put on his hat. “Like the moon through a rainbow.” He smiled. “I’ll remember that.” Then he was gone.
    Carol Anne opened her hand and looked at Billy’s gift. She angled her palm and let the perfect sphere roll down her fingertips, onto the velvet. It bumped against another pearl and quenched, in an instant, all the silly images associated with it. Like a ripple from a stone thrown in the water, the power of the new white pearl spread outward and rinsed the fragile fantasies from each of the others, leaving them quiet and dead. Now only Billy’s pearl remained animated with hopes and desires.
    She burst through the door and ran down the steps. She sprinted around the corner of the store and saw him crossing the street toward Widow Humphry’s inn.
    â€œMr. Treat!” she cried.
    He turned.
    â€œContact the pearl-buyer.”
    He nodded and waved. “Call me Billy.”

6
    THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD GENTLEMAN. IF YOU think you’ve found one, he’s got you fooled. I don’t care how often he says please, thank you, and yes ma’am—in his private mind, he’s another person.
    Take me, for example. I was well-liked by adults in Port Caddo. They thought of me as a fine boy. Of course, a few of the men who could remember being fourteen were on to me, but the ladies had no clue. My mother, I am sure, thought never a lecherous idea crossed my mind. She would have been horrified had she known the truth.
    Cecil Peavy’s old man, Joe Peavy, was a horse trader in Port Caddo. He was an expert judge of horseflesh. He could look at horses’ legs and tell you how it would feel to ride them. He would comment on the muscling of the thighs, the curvature of