Page 16 of For the Roses (Claybornes' Brides (Rose Hill) 1)

  “Someday soon she’ll be joining us,” Adam promised. “Her nightmare can’t continue much longer. Mistress Livonia may have a change of heart and let her leave. I doubt Mama would want to go anywhere until after Livonia dies. She’s totally dependent on Mama now.”

  “I cannot imagine what it would be like to be blind. I don’t believe I would turn mean, though, the way Livonia did.”

  “She needs your mama more than you do, Mary Rose . . . for now, anyway.”

  “Are her sons so very cruel that they would really turn their backs on their mother?”

  “You know the answer to that,” he said. “They’ll do anything to get her money. Rose and Livonia have their own cottage behind the property the sons already sold off. They’re getting along all right now. As long as Livonia’s sons leave them alone, no harm will come to either one of them.”

  “You send them money regularly, don’t you?”

  “We do what we can. Go on up to bed now. I want to finish this chapter on the Constitution. I plan to nag Harrison into a debate tomorrow night, and I want to be prepared.”

  “I’m going to write Mama another letter tonight before I go to sleep. I need to tell her about Harrison. She’ll want to know every detail.”

  “I thought you already told her about him.”

  “Yes, but that was before he kissed me. I need to tell Mama about that. Good night. Love you.”

  “Love you too, sister.”

  Mary Rose went to bed a half hour later. She fell asleep thinking how perfect her life was. She lived in a beautiful valley with wonderful brothers, and now she had a dashing suitor who would eventually pursue her. She would lead him a merry chase first, of course. Then she’d let him catch her.

  Her plans were grand, and, oh, how perfect her life was.

  She was falling in love.

  May 17, 1863

  Dear Mama Rose,

  We’ve heard so many conflicting reports about the war, we don’t know what to think. Both the North and the South are taking credit for every victory. By the time we get any news, it’s all so convoluted, it doesn’t make sense. All we know for certain is that thousands of young men are dying. We’re all trying hard to do as you say and not worry about you, but it’s difficult. You’re in our thoughts, in our prayers, and in our hearts.

  Your letter was a blessed relief. We were so thankful to hear from you after nearly a month of waiting, we celebrated with a special dinner. Cole made squirrel stew, Douglas made biscuits, and I cut up fresh vegetables from our garden. For dessert we had baked apples and a piece of peppermint candy. After we’d eaten our fill, we took turns singing. I thought Cole and I weren’t too bad, but Douglas and Travis were plumb awful. No one was as horrible as little Mary Rose. Your namesake doesn’t actually sing; she screams. I’ve been toying with the notion of getting her a piano when she’s older. We would have to find a teacher, of course, to give her the necessary training. Now I’m not so certain it’s such a good idea. If she can’t carry a tune, maybe we would be just wasting our time. Still, it’s important for her to have a wellrounded education, and an appreciation of music is important. Her brothers and I talk about the advantages we want her to have. Travis insists that she learn how to speak French. He says all well-educated men and women know at least one other language. Right now we’re concentrating on English. The baby’s grammar is still pretty raw. She’s forever getting her verbs mixed. We took your advice and don’t overdo correcting her though, and we always try to praise her for every little task she completes. She likes to please us, and when she’s happy and smiles at us, well, it seems as though sunshine has just come inside our cabin. She lights up a room, Mama, like a thousand candles burning bright.

  Cole showed us a design he’d made of the house he wants to build. We were stunned by the detail. None of us knew he had so much talent. I think he’s taking on more than he can chew though, but I didn’t squelch his enthusiasm. The design is for a two-story house with five bedrooms, and it’s as grand as any of those fancy plantations down South. I did suggest he make the outside as plain as he could so we wouldn’t draw attention to the family. People see an expensive home and they start to wonder what’s inside. Then they become resentful, at least from my experiences watching people that’s the conclusion I’ve hit upon. If someone has something better, they think they should have it, even though they aren’t willing to work hard. Folks in Blue Belle aren’t like city folks, however. We all tend to appreciate anything anyone else has. I’ve got seven books in my collection now, and Travis wants to go to Hammond next week and see what goods he can barter for there. Douglas has started breaking in a couple of wild mustangs he and Cole captured. Douglas has a knack for communicating with animals. He says they don’t actually talk to him, but they let him know when something’s wrong.

  We’re all slowly figuring out what we can do to contribute to the family. It’s interesting to me how God gave each one of us a special talent. I’ve got a head for numbers, so I keep the records straight. There’s quite a lot of paper work involved in filing for land, and I also started a ledger and write down every bit we spend. Morrison has started offering credit to us. He says we only need to pay him once every other month for the supplies we take, but he charges interest on his kindness, and in my mind, that’s a loan pure and simple. If we don’t have enough money in the cigar box, then we go without. I don’t ever go into town. I’ve taken your advice and try not to draw too much attention to myself. Everyone has come out here to meet me, and I believe they’ve gotten used to me. New arrivals are a little surprised when they hear there’s a black man living amongst them, and when they meet the rest of the family, I’m sure they’re befuddled. Cole says that because everyone else in Blue Belle accepts the as ordinary, the new ones figure it must be all right. Winning the Morrisons’ friendship helped, of course. They got into real trouble when their roof caved in. I went into town then to help build a new one. Mrs. Morrison kept Mary Rose for us, and even though our sister insists little Catherine hit her and pulled her hair, we all are sure she had a good time playing with a new friend.

  I’ve strayed from my topic, haven’t I? I was telling you how God gave all of us a special talent. Then I started bragging about myself. Now I’ll tell you about the contributions my brothers are making. Cole’s still practicing with his gun so he can protect us and kill game for supper, and while I think he’s got a talent for being quick and accurate, none of us want him to become a gunfighter. I’m happy to report he also has a talent for building. He helps everyone else too. Douglas works with the horses they caught, and Side Camp has already said he’ll buy one as soon as my brother gets him saddle trained. Douglas wants to build a barn before starting on the house. He and Cole are still arguing about what is going to come first. Cole will let Douglas win, but he’s going to make him suffer before he gives in.

  Travis has become the procurer for the household. The boy can talk anyone out of anything. Whenever we need something, we tell him and he finds a way to get it for us.

  We don’t know what special talent the baby has yet. It sure isn’t in the area of art though. I’ve enclosed a drawing she made for you. It’s supposed to be a picture of our little cabin, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to tell. It looks like a bunch of scribbles to me. She was proud of her work, and so of course we all praised her and told her how fine it was. She doesn’t like us to call her baby anymore. She won’t answer to the name Mary either. We have to say her full name if we want her to answer us. It seems foolish to call her Mary Rose Clayborne all the time, but it means a lot to her and so we go along.

  She asks about a hundred questions a day. I still think she’s smarter than the rest of us put together, and from the way she gets us to do things for her, my brothers believe I’m right.

  We don’t let her misbehave too much. If she won’t obey, we make her sit by herself until she’s ready to be part of the family again. She doesn’t like to be left out, and she looks plumb pit

iful. Cole always wants to give in because he has such a soft heart, but he too understands the importance of helping her understand certain behavior won’t be tolerated.

  I’m not so certain about how miserable she feels sitting all alone though. Just yesterday, she and I were working in the garden together. She wanted me to stop work and take her inside and get her a piece of peppermint candy. When I told her no, she went in the cabin and got it anyway. She knew she was going to get into trouble because she didn’t just eat one of the pieces. She ate every last one of them. A few minutes later, she came outside again wearing the evidence of her misdeed (her face was covered with pink coloring), and she was carrying her blanket and the rag doll Travis had made for her. She marched right past me and went all the way across the yard and sat down on a log. Then she started in wailing and acting pitiful. She’s got all of us figured out, Mama. I had to turn my face away from her because I couldn’t quit smiling.

  I’ll stop for now. Travis and Douglas have already given me their letters to you, and Cole’s just finishing his. We sure appreciate the way you include a sheet for each one of us with our names written on the fold. We all like having a private minute with you, and when Mary Rose is older and can read her own, I’m sure she’ll appreciate your thoughtfulness too.

  My brothers have been talking about joining up and doing what they can to help the North win the war. I get angry every time one of them mentions it, and I think I finally convinced them that although their hearts are in the right place, they can’t leave. We all made a promise to our sister, and we all have to put her first. Travis didn’t think the baby needed all four of us, but after I pointed out how each one of us makes an important contribution, he felt better. It’s true, Mama. It takes four almost grown-up men to look after Mary Rose. It’s a hard life out here. It takes everything a man has inside just to survive.

  We pray for those good Northern soldiers every single night.

  I don’t want to end this letter on a sad note. We were surprised the pretty locket you sent actually got here. The package wasn’t even torn. Mary Rose caught us looking at it. We told her you had sent it to her, but that she wasn’t supposed to have it until she turned sixteen years old. Well, Mama, she threw quite a tantrum. None of us gave in though. We did come up with a compromise. We promised she could look at it every night before she goes to bed. Now we have another ritual to add at night. We’re up to three. She has to have a sip of water, a bedtime story, and now she has to look at the locket.

  She sure is a piece of work, and my, how she makes us smile.

  I love you,

  Adam

  6

  Gentle, sweet-natured Harrison turned into a raging maniac right before Mary Rose’s eyes. She couldn’t believe how terrible the day turned out to be. At supper that night, she told Adam her entire day had been a nightmare.

  And it was all Harrison’s fault. She was so furious with the man, she still couldn’t speak to him.

  The morning had started out pleasantly enough. She spent a good hour getting ready to go into town. She wanted to look as pretty as possible for Harrison. She didn’t believe she was being vain, and usually what she wore only had to be functional for her to be happy. Today was different, however, because the man of her dreams had kissed her the night before, and she wanted to look beautiful for him. She knew she was probably being silly, but she couldn’t seem to care. After trying on three different outfits, she ended up wearing a pale blue riding skirt with a white blouse. She tied her hair back with a blue and white ribbon. She wasn’t overly thrilled about her appearance, but it was the best she could do with the looks God had given her.

  She soon realized she needn’t have gone to all the trouble. Except for a terse good morning, Harrison didn’t pay her any attention at all.

  Everyone but Adam went into town with her. Travis wanted to pick up a package, Cole and Harrison were going to collect the new bridles, and Douglas rode along so he could talk to the blacksmith about shoeing a couple of horses. Mary Rose had a shopping list of supplies she thought her new friend, Corrie, could use.

  Being ignored by the stubborn guest was fine with her. She was furious with him because he refused to listen to reason. He insisted on wearing his gunbelt and gun and gave Cole the ridiculous argument that he’d loaded up his old, reliable gun and would be just fine if trouble came their way. She couldn’t believe how mule-headed he was being. Granted, her own brothers were armed, but they were all skilled and wore the weapons for protection. The ignorant gunfighter named Webster, and some of his misfit associates, were still on the prowl, and until the Claybornes were certain they had all left the territory, the brothers needed to stay on their guard.

  Because it was Thursday, no one in town was expecting to see any of them. Mary Rose had diligently prayed that Catherine Morrison had stayed home today and wasn’t in the store helping her father. Mary Rose didn’t want to have to watch the woman flirt with Harrison because such blatant tactics were bound to make her nauseated. Harrison was so naive. Most men were when it came to the ploys used by certain women. Harrison wouldn’t know what Catherine was up to, but Mary Rose would. Women understood each other. Catherine wanted to snare Harrison. Finding a man wasn’t difficult in the valley. They outnumbered women by well over a hundred to one. Finding a good man was another matter altogether. They were as scarce as diamonds.

  Mary Rose didn’t believe she was jealous. She was just looking out for Harrison. He was her guest, after all. Catherine Morrison was just going to have to find someone else to chase.

  On the way into town Mary Rose must have asked Cole and Douglas at least five times to look after Harrison. The two brothers soon got tired of promising her they would. They told her to quit nagging them. She would have asked Travis, but he and Harrison were riding their mounts side by side, and she didn’t want the man she wanted protected to know she didn’t think he could take care of himself. He couldn’t, of course, but she didn’t want him to know she realized it.

  Luck was on her side. Catherine wasn’t in the store. Mary Rose saw Harrison talking to Catherine’s father, but the conversation lasted only a minute or two, and then Harrison was being introduced to Floyd Penneyville, another new resident, and the topic turned to the annual cattle roundup that had ended just three weeks before. Both Floyd and Harrison were sorry they’d missed all the excitement.

  Dooley caught up with her just as she was leaving the store. She was on her way to the stables to collect Douglas. Cole and Travis and Harrison were all talking to Floyd.

  “Morning, Miss Mary. My, you look right pretty today.”

  “Thank you, Dooley.”

  “Henry chased me down,” he said. He remembered his manners then and immediately took his hat off. “We’d already sent word to Cole that Webster had some cronies with him. I guess, from seeing the brothers, he’s expecting trouble.”

  “One must always be prepared for any eventuality,” Mary Rose told her friend. She was quoting Adam, of course. He was always telling her to be prepared.

  Dooley followed her outside and walked by her side down the wooden walkway.

  “Anyways, Henry told me you were taking supplies to Crazy Corrie. Was he fibbing me or telling the truth?”

  “He was telling the truth,” she said. “Corrie isn’t crazy. I would appreciate it if you’d tell your friends so. She’s my friend, Dooley.”

  “That’s exactly what Henry said you’d say. I got some bad news for you, Miss Mary. Bickley and some of his vigilante friends is going up to the ridge to burn Corrie out. They think she’s a danger to folks.”

  Mary Rose was appalled. “How dare they,” she cried out. She grabbed hold of Dooley’s arm. “Have they left yet?”

  “No, but they’re getting ready to,” Dooley explained. “Henry and Ghost are keeping them busy bragging. You know how Bickley is. He likes to boast about hisself. He’s the devil’s own brother, Miss Mary. I wish he’d go on back to Hammond where he belongs. He’s got no busine

ss trying to be a big man here. Some of his friends got to be bad to the core. One’s so ugly, he makes me want to puke just looking at him. Calling themselves vigilantes, like they’re something special.”

  The old man paused to snort. He would have spit, but he didn’t think Miss Mary would appreciate it.

  “Where are they now?”

  “Inside the saloon. They’re itching to leave though. Henry’s running out of questions to ask, and you know how Ghost is. Ever since he started making his own brew he’s been acting real funny. It takes him a long time to figure out what folks are talking about. He can’t concentrate is what it is, cause he’s got all them spirits talking to him all the time. Course, getting hit by lightning didn’t help him none, but I’m still saying he’d be right in the head if he’d stay away from liquor. Miss Mary, where are you dragging me?”

  “To the saloon.”

  “You aren’t thinking about going inside, are you?”

  “If I have to, I will,” she said. “I’ve got to put a stop to this.”

  They were running down the walkway. Dooley was soon out of breath. “Let me fetch your brothers, Miss Mary,” he begged between gasps. “You wait right here.”

  Mary Rose saw the wisdom in getting some assistance. She agreed to wait and had only just sat down on a bench outside of the warehouse when Bickley and his cohorts strutted outside. Their horses were waiting, their reins tied to the hitching posts in front of the saloon.

  She didn’t dare wait any longer. She prayed to God the men weren’t liquored up. She didn’t know Bickley but she’d heard stories about him, and none of them were worth repeating. His appearance was every bit as nasty as his character. He had long, stringy, brown hair and beady eyes. He looked like a sneak, she thought to herself, and from all accountings, that’s exactly what he was. Bickley was only a couple of inches over five feet. Adam said he was a little man trying to be big.