Page 18 of For the Roses (Claybornes' Brides (Rose Hill) 1)

  “That’s too far,” Travis interjected. “Let’s take her to Morrison’s house. Mrs. Morrison will take care of her.”

  “I would like to go home.”

  “In a little while,” Cole promised. He squatted down next to his sister. In a whisper he asked, “Why won’t you look at us?”

  “I don’t want to,” she answered. “I want to go home. Now.”

  “Are you mad at us?”

  She nodded, then promptly winced over the pain the movement caused. She never should have sat down, she realized. She’d gone all stiff. She wasn’t even sure her legs would work.

  “Then why don’t you yell or something?”

  “It would hurt too much,” she admitted. She tried to stand up and promptly let out a loud groan.

  Cole was suddenly shoved out of the way. Harrison scooped Mary Rose up into his arms. He was incredibly gentle with her. When that fact registered in her mind, she could almost look at him.

  “What’s the matter with her?” Travis asked. “Is she scared?”

  “No, she’s mad,” Cole told him. “I don’t want to be around when her temper explodes.”

  “I’ll wager you’ve never seen anything like it, Harrison,” Travis said.

  He and Cole both burst into laughter. Mary Rose was offended by their callous attitudes. “I cannot imagine what you two find so amusing,” she snapped.

  “We’re laughing because we’re happy you weren’t killed,” Travis said.

  She didn’t look as if she believed him. Cole tried to calm her down. “Look at it this way. The day has to get better, doesn’t it?”

  She grasped the hope. Yes, things did have to get better.

  Unless Harrison started showing off again.

  September 1, 1863

  Dear Mama Rose,

  Your daughter has quite a mouth on her. Yesterday morning she told Cole to hush up, and just a few minutes ago, she told Travis to mind his own business. We’re always so astonished to hear her talk like that, we have to work real hard at not letting her know how funny we think it is. She loves to try to boss us around, and lately she’s been repeating cuss words she’s heard Cole say. We all learned an important lesson, of course, and we’re trying hard not to say anything improper. She’s spending quite a lot of time sitting by herself, and, Lord, can she cry. She can be a little stinker all right.

  We have started taking turns teaching her the alphabet. She’s still too young to get the hang of it, but she enjoys having the attention. Travis got her a chalkboard and two boxes of chalk. She ate one of the pieces of chalk, and that made her sick. I don’t think she’ll eat any more of them.

  Everyone’s worried about you, Mama Rose. What with the war going on, and none of your letters getting through to us, we get anxious. We pray you and Miss Livonia are safe. It sure would help us get through the days if we’d get a letter from you. We know you write, but the post service is in such a confusion now, we aren’t even sure you’re getting any of our letters. I believe God will look out for you, and that when this is over, you’ll be a free woman, and you can come join your family. The baby needs you so . . .

  God protect you,

  Douglas

  7

  She never should have tempted fate. Things progressed from worse to horrible. Ten minutes after she’d suffered her humiliating attack, she found herself in the most ludicrous position. She was seated in a chair with her feet propped up on a stool in the Morrisons’ parlor. She was all by herself. Everyone else had disappeared into the kitchen. Catherine’s mother had gone to fetch cloths and water so she could clean up Mary Rose’s face, while her daughter entertained their other guests at the kitchen table.

  Mary Rose told herself she deserved the misery she was suffering. She had made unkind remarks about Catherine, and even though most of the uncharitable opinions were true, she couldn’t complain when Catherine lived up to her every expectation. At first—when Mary Rose walked inside the house, anyway—Catherine had pretended sympathy. She’d had an audience then. She gave quite a grand performance. Why, she even became tearful over what she kept calling her dear friend’s hideous condition. Mary Rose wasn’t fooled. She’d figured Catherine out years ago. Even as a little girl, Catherine pretended to be the perfect child in front of her parents and Mary Rose’s brothers, but the second their backs were turned, she’d grab hold of Mary Rose and take a bite out of her. Time, unfortunately, hadn’t improved her disposition or her behavior. Her sympathy for Mary Rose ended the minute Mrs. Morrison ushered the men into the kitchen. Catherine haphazardly slapped a towel her mother had given her against Mary Rose’s face and went chasing after Harrison.

  Travis, Cole, and Harrison were all seated around the kitchen table eating portions of the blackberry cobbler Mrs. Morrison had only just taken out of the oven. Dooley joined them. From where Mary Rose sat, she could see Harrison clearly. And Catherine, of course. She was hanging all over him. When she served him some dessert, she put her hand on his arm and draped herself over his shoulder to place the bowl in front of him. It took her an eternity to straighten back up. Harrison didn’t seem to mind.

  Having to watch Catherine flirt and not being able to do anything about it was purgatory. Travis wasn’t about to be left out. He was competing for Catherine’s attention, throwing out one perfectly stupid compliment after another. Catherine preened like a cat.

  “It sure was something the way you got so mad, Harrison,” Dooley praised. “I thought you were out of your mind taking on all them fellas, and I’ll bet you didn’t even feel the punches you were getting.”

  Harrison shook his head. “No, I wasn’t out of my mind. I knew exactly what I was doing.”

  Dooley wasn’t finished talking about the excitement in town. “Who would have thought it possible,” he remarked. “A fancy lawyer like you being able to fight so mean.”

  Cole went completely still. “He’s a lawyer?”

  “Sure is,” Dooley said.

  Cole slowly put his spoon down and turned to Harrison. Then he punched him in the side of his jaw.

  Harrison flinched in reaction. The punch stung. He rubbed his jaw and glared at Cole. “What’d you do that for?”

  “Cause you’re a lawyer,” Cole answered.

  He picked up his spoon again, turned to his bowl of cobbler, and then said, “Why in thunder didn’t you tell us you were a lawyer?”

  “It weren’t no secret,” Dooley blurted out. He walked over to the stove and leaned against the edge of it. There weren’t any seats available unless he went into the parlor, and he wasn’t about to leave the kitchen for fear he would miss some important piece of gossip.

  The old man shoveled in another heaping spoonful of dessert and then said, “Everyone in town knows what Harrison does for a living, Cole. We even talked over the notion of him opening an office across the street from the general store. Yes, sir, we did.”

  “You hit me again, and I’ll flatten you,” Harrison said.

  “I hate lawyers.”

  “Apparently so,” Harrison said dryly. “Mind telling me why?”

  “I would have punched you myself, but Cole was quicker,” Travis muttered.

  “Cole pretty much hates everyone, Harrison. Ain’t you figured that out yet?” Dooley asked.

  Travis finally answered Harrison’s question. “We hate lawyers because they’re always poking their noses in where they don’t belong. Someone ought to round them all up and hang them. We could have a picnic after.”

  “We almost had us a bunch of hangings this morning, Miss Catherine,” Dooley said.

  Harrison looked into the parlor to see how Mary Rose was doing. He’d been looking every other minute just to make certain she was all right. Mrs. Morrison was taking forever getting her supplies ready so she could take care of Mary Rose, and Harrison had about used up all his patience waiting for someone to help her.

  “What are you staring at?” Cole asked him.

  “Your sister,” he admitted. He starte

d to stand up. “I think I’ll go see if I can help . . .”

  “Let the Morrison women see to her,” Travis advised. “Women like other women nursing them.”

  Harrison sat back down again. In a low whisper, he said, “It’s taking the women a hell of a long time to get to it, isn’t it?”

  “All in good time, Harrison,” Travis said. He glanced over his shoulder to look at his sister, then turned back to the table. “She’s fine. Don’t worry about her.”

  “Someone has to worry,” Harrison stubbornly insisted. “You and Cole act as though she skinned her knee. She was knocked out, for God’s sake. She could be ...”

  “Don’t let her know you’re concerned.”

  Cole gave the warning. Travis grinned. “Sound advice, Harrison. You’d do well to remember it.”

  Harrison couldn’t believe how unfeeling the brothers were. Cole guessed what he was thinking when he saw how incredulous he looked.

  “She’s little, but she’s tough.”

  “She’s probably feeling like hell,” Harrison said.

  “For God’s sake, don’t ask her how she feels,” Travis warned.

  “Why not?”

  “You’re a lawyer, you figure it out,” Cole answered. “You really thinking about giving up on the law and learning to ranch?”

  “Yes,” Harrison replied. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking about.”

  “Mr. MacDonald, I just love the way you talk,” Catherine Morrison said. She leaned forward to brush against her guest while she put a linen napkin down in front of him. “It’s so unusual. Isn’t it, Travis?”

  “I think he sounds like he’s got something caught in his throat,” Travis muttered. He wasn’t at all happy to hear Catherine say anything nice about another man since he was thinking about becoming interested in her in the future.

  “Oh, Travis, you’re just adorable when you tease like that.”

  Cole and Harrison shared a look of exasperation. Harrison thought the young woman had taken coyness to a new height. She was extremely transparent. Cole wasn’t as kind in his opinion. He thought Catherine was acting like a desperate, husband-hunting old maid.

  Travis thought she was about the sweetest little thing in Blue Belle.

  Catherine wasn’t finished flirting, but Mary Rose was finished listening. She couldn’t stomach sitting in the parlor any longer. She wanted to go home and get some comfort and some care. If the cuts on her forehead and her mouth hadn’t stopped bleeding on their own, she figured she’d be dead by now for all the attention she was getting. Probably no one would even notice she’d died, at least not until they ran out of cobbler. She knew she was feeling sorry for herself. That was all right. She might even decide to wallow in self-pity for the rest of the day.

  Sitting in the chair had made her stiff. She stood up and almost lost her balance. She staggered forward, straightened up, and then turned to look in the kitchen to see if anyone noticed. They hadn’t. She wasn’t surprised, of course, for everyone was still fully occupied gobbling down cobbler.

  She went outside and saw the horses were tied to the fence. Douglas came riding up just as she stepped off of the porch.

  “You look a sight, Mary Rose.”

  “Is it any wonder? I was attacked, Douglas. When I think of all ...”

  He stopped her before she could really get into her list of ills. “Now, now, no use complaining.”

  Her brother dismounted and started toward the porch. “Where is everyone?”

  “Inside, having some of Mrs. Morrison’s mighty fine cobbler. I wouldn’t know, of course. No one offered me any.”

  “There you go again. Complaining won’t make you feel better.”

  He reached her side and awkwardly patted her on her shoulder.

  “Yes, it will,” she assured him. “I like to complain.”

  “I know.” He sounded resigned.

  Then he smiled at her. His amusement set her off again. What in heaven’s name did she have to do to get a little sympathy around here?

  “When I think about all I’ve been through today, I ...”

  “Where were you going all by yourself?”

  “Home,” she answered. “And don’t you dare try to stop me.”

  It finally dawned on him that she really was feeling miserable. She looked close to tears. “All right,” he soothed. “We’ll go home. You wait right here. I’ll go get the others. We’ll all ride together. I’ll hurry, I promise.”

  She pretended to agree so he would leave her alone. She knew what was going to happen. Douglas’s promise was sincere, but once he got into Mrs. Morrison’s kitchen, he was going to forget all about taking her anywhere.

  Men. They were all so incredibly easy to sway. Pat them on their heads, give them something to eat, and they’ll follow you anywhere. Add a smile and a few stupid compliments, and they’ll immediately forget all about their other responsibilities.

  Like a sister dying on the front porch, she thought to herself.

  By God, someone was going to comfort her, even if she had to go all the way to Hammond and hire a complete stranger to be sympathetic.

  It took her a long while to get comfortable in the saddle. Then she started for home. She forced herself to brush off her bad mood. She didn’t feel all that bad. Mary Rose was a big believer in measuring each awful incident with something else awful that had happened in her life. Each painful and or humiliating trauma was immediately categorized in her mind as being as bad as, or not as bad as, or worse than something else. And as bad as being attacked by Bickley was, it still wasn’t as bad as the bee attack. To date, nothing had even come close.

  She’d almost died from the bee stings, at least Adam told her she’d been standing at heaven’s door. She didn’t have any recollection of being that ill. She just remembered the pain. She hadn’t complained, even when her brothers begged her to.

  “Mary Rose, slow down and wait for us.”

  Douglas shouted the order. She did as he demanded, but when he reached her side and she noticed he was wearing several crumbs of cobbler at the corner of his mouth, she gave him a hard frown and then ignored him.

  “Can she ride on her own?” Harrison asked her brother from behind.

  “She’s trying,” Mary Rose answered.

  “Would you feel better if you rode with me?” Cole shouted the question.

  “I doubt it. My backside is killing me. You’ve obviously forgotten what happened.”

  “And you’re gonna remind me, right?”

  She almost smiled. She stopped herself in time. She didn’t want any of her brothers to catch on to her game. It would ruin all the fun for her if they realized that one of the reasons she complained was because they hated it so.

  “I was brutally kicked and . . .”

  “No use going over it, Mary Rose.”

  Cole reached her side and took her into his lap. “There. Now you’ll feel better.”

  She might have agreed if he hadn’t sounded so damned cheerful. He was acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. All the men were, even the showoff, Harrison. She decided to make Cole miserable and immediately started complaining again. Her brother really was trapped with her. She could whine all she wanted, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Usually, the minute she started listing her grievances, everyone would leave. She’d figured that out years ago. And that was exactly why she’d begun her game. Whenever she wanted privacy, she would start complaining, then sit back and watch her brothers trip all over themselves in their haste to get away from her. Her ploy was effective, and when something worked, one didn’t mess with it.

  Her goal now was to get back on her horse and be left alone. She needed privacy so she could think about Harrison’s bizarre behavior. In the blink of an eye, his entire personality had changed. It was as though he’d been caught up in some sort of a spell. What in heaven’s name had happened to the gentle man she’d liked so much? She was going to have to sort it all out in her mind be

fore she could look at him again without getting angry.

  Cole didn’t want to let her ride on her own, but he soon got tired of listening to her. He gave her to Douglas. He didn’t even last five minutes. Then Travis got stuck with her.

  Three down and one to go, she thought a bit smugly.

  “Listen, Mary Rose, you’re making my teeth hurt listening to you,” Travis muttered. “Why don’t you wait until we get home and then sit down and write a long letter to your mama. You can tell her all about how poorly you’re feeling.”

  “No, I can’t,” she replied. “Mama doesn’t want to hear it. She told me it wasn’t proper for a young lady to complain, even when she enjoys it so.”

  Travis laughed. “You used to write and tell on us, didn’t you?”

  “I was very young then,” she defended. “Mama made me stop. She said I wasn’t being loyal to my brothers and that I shouldn’t ever tattletale. Mama would be sympathetic if she could see me now. Why, I was punched and . . .”

  “Harrison, you want to take a turn?” Travis shouted.

  “Never mind,” Mary Rose whispered. “I’m finished complaining.”

  Travis didn’t believe her. He all but tossed her into Harrison’s lap. She let out a loud groan when she landed on his hard thighs.

  He told her to lean against him. Once she had adjusted to his steel-like frame, she finally relaxed just a little. She kept her gaze directed on the trail ahead and thought about the tender way he was holding her in his arms.

  Her mind began to wander. She suddenly realized she must look a fright. What an odd thing to think about now, she decided. Her foolish worry about her appearance was yet another contradiction floating around in her head. She knew she wasn’t being logical about Harrison. She couldn’t make herself look at him just yet. Granted, he had all but scared the curl out of her hair when he’d gone after Bickley and his friends, but then, ten minutes later, she hadn’t been able to stomach watching Catherine flirt with him.

  She must still be befuddled from hitting the side of her head against the post.