“I don’t want no girls around,” Travis muttered. “They ain’t good for nothing. I hate every last one of them. They’re just a bunch of complainers and crybabies.”
The other boys ignored Travis. Douglas and Cole were both watching Adam. Their boss was looking ill.
“What’s the matter, boss?” Cole asked.
“A black shouldn’t be holding a lily white baby girl,” Adam said.
Cole snorted. “I watched you save her from getting eaten up by the rats. If she was older and understood, she’d be mighty appreciative.”
“Mighty appreciative.” Douglas agreed with a nod.
“Besides,” Cole said. “She don’t know if you’re black or white.”
“You saying she’s blind?” Travis asked, stunned by the very possibility.
“She ain’t blind,” Cole muttered. He let the youngest member of the gang see his exasperation. “She’s just too little to understand about hating yet. Babies aren’t borned hating anything. They have to be taught. When she looks at Adam, all she’s seeing is a ... a brother. Yeah, that’s what she’s seeing, all right. And big brothers protect their little sisters, don’t they? Ain’t that a sacred rule or something? Maybe this little one already knows that.”
“I made a promise to my mama,” Adam told the other boys once again. “I gave her my word I would run as far west as I could until I found a place where I’d be safe. Mama told me there was a war coming, and when it was all over and everything was decided, there’s a good chance she’ll be free. She promised to come after me then. I just have to keep myself alive until that day comes. I promised her I’d survive, and a son doesn’t break a promise to his mama. I have to run for her.”
“Take the baby with you,” Cole told him.
“They’d hang me for sure,” Adam scoffed.
“Hell, they’re gonna hang you anyway for killing the bastard who owned you, remember?” Cole said.
“If they catch you, Adam,” Douglas interjected. “And you’re too smart to let that happen.”
“I’m feeling a might brotherly toward the baby too,” Cole announced.
The other boys immediately turned to look at him. He became embarrassed over the way they were staring at him. “There ain’t no cowardice in admitting it,” he quickly added. “I’m strong, and she’s just a puny little thing who needs brothers like Adam and me to see she grows up proper.”
“Proper? What do you know about proper?” Douglas asked. There was a snicker of disbelief in his voice.
“Nothing,” Cole admitted. “I don’t know nothing about being proper,” he added. “But Adam knows all about it, don’t you, Adam? You talk good, and you read and write like a gentleman. Your mama taught you, and now you can teach me. I don’t want to be ignorant in front of my little sister. It ain’t right.”
“He could teach all of us,” Douglas said. He wasn’t about to be left out.
“I don’t guess I’d hate her if I was her big brother,” Travis grumbled. “I’m gonna get real strong when I’m all growed up. Isn’t that true, Douglas?”
“Yeah, it’s true all right,” Douglas confirmed. “You know what I think?”
“What’s that?” Adam asked. He smiled in spite of his worries, for the little one had just given him the silliest grin. She was sure pleased with herself. She seemed to like being the center of attention. For such a tiny thing, she held considerable power over all of them. Her smile alone made him feel all warm and comforted inside. Her easy acceptance of him was melting away the painful knot he’d been carrying around in his belly ever since the day he’d had to leave his mama. The baby was a gift magically given into his care, and it was his duty to see that she was nurtured and protected and cherished.
“I sometimes wonder if God always knows what He’s doing,” Adam whispered.
“Of course He does,” Douglas replied. “And I think He would want us to come up with another name for our baby. Sidney don’t seem right now. I sure hope she grows some hair. I don’t cotton to the notion of having a bald little sister.”
“Mary,” Cole blurted out.
“Rose,” Adam said at the very same time.
“Mary was my mama’s name,” Cole explained. “She died having me. I heard tell from neighbors she was a right good woman.”
“My mama’s name is Rose,” Adam said. “She is a right good woman too.”
“The baby’s falling asleep,” Travis whispered. “Put her back down in the basket, and I’ll try to slip another nappy on her. Then you two can argue about her name.”
Adam did as he was instructed. They all watched as Travis awkwardly put a dry nappy on. The baby was sound asleep before he finished messing with her.
“I don’t think there’s anything to argue about,” Douglas said. He reached over to cover the baby while Adam and Cole both muttered their reasons again for wanting the baby named after their mothers. Douglas knew a full-blown argument was developing, and he wanted to stop it before it went any further. “I say it’s all settled. Her name is Mary Rose. Mary is for your mama, Cole, and Rose is for your Mama Rose, Adam.”
Cole was the first to see the rightness in the name and the first to smile. Adam quickly agreed. Travis started to laugh, and Douglas hushed him by shoving his elbow in his side, so he wouldn’t wake the baby.
“We have to make plans,” Douglas whispered. “I think we should leave as soon as possible, maybe even tomorrow night, on the midnight train. Travis, you got until then to get the things we’ll need for Mary Rose. I’ll buy the tickets for us. Adam, you’ll have to hide in the baggage car with the baby. Is that all right with you?”
Adam nodded. “You figure it all out. and I’ll do it,” he promised.
“How are you going to buy the tickets?” Cole asked.
“The envelope I took from the woman who threw Mary Rose away was stuffed with money. There were some oldlooking papers with fancy writing and seals on the paper, but I can’t make out any of it because I can’t read. I know money when I see it though. We got us enough to get as far as Adam needs to go and stake us some land.”
“Let me see those papers,” Adam asked.
Douglas pulled the envelope out of his pocket and handed it to their boss. Adam let out a whistle when he saw all the money tucked inside. He found two papers and pulled them out. One was filled with numbers and scratches he couldn’t make out, and the other sheet looked like a blank page torn from a book. There was only a little bit of handwriting on the top, giving the baby’s date of birth and her weight. He read the words out loud so the others would know what he’d found.
“It weren’t enough they threw her away. They even thrown out her papers,” Douglas whispered.
“I didn’t have papers when I was dumped at the orphanage,” Travis said. “It’s a good thing I already knew my name, isn’t it, Cole?”
“I suppose so,” Cole answered.
Travis shrugged off the matter as unimportant. “I got a suggestion to make now, so don’t interrupt me until you hear me out. All right?”
He waited until everyone nodded before he continued. “I’m the only one of us who knows for certain I’m not wanted by the law, and nobody’s looking to find me, so I say Mary Rose should carry my last name. Fact is, if we’re gonna do it right, like Cole says we should, then everyone should take my last name. Brothers and sisters are all part of the same family, after all, and they all got to have the same last name. So I’m saying, from this minute on, we’re all Claybornes. Agreed?”
“No one’s going to believe I’m a Clayborne,” Adam argued.
“Who cares what anyone else believes?” Cole asked. “We ain’t asking for approval, just to be left alone. If you say you’re a Clayborne, and we say you’re a Clayborne, whose to say you ain’t? Anyone who challenges you has to get through the rest of us first if he wants to make trouble. And remember,” he added, “I got me a gun now. Soon enough I’ll be able to handle any trouble that comes our way.”
Douglas and
Travis nodded. Adam let out a sigh. Douglas put his hand out over the basket, his palm down. He looked at each of the other gang members.
“I say we run for Mama Rose and we become a family for our little Mary Rose. We’re brothers,” he whispered.
Travis put his hand on top of Douglas’s. “Brothers,” he vowed.
Cole was next. “We run for Mary Rose and Mama Rose,” he pledged. “We’re brothers until we die.”
Adam hesitated for what seemed an eternity to the other boys. And then his mind was finally made up. His hand covered Cole’s. “Brothers,” he vowed in a voice shaking with emotion. “For the Roses.”
1
Montana Valley, 1879
The baby was finally coming home.
Cole waited next to his wagon for the stagecoach to round the last bend in the road. He was so excited, he could barely stand still. The cloud of dust coming from above the hill indicated she was close. He couldn’t wait to see her. He wondered if she’d changed much in the past months, then laughed out loud over the foolish notion. Mary Rose had been all grown up when she’d left for her last year of school. Other than acquiring a few more freckles on the bridge of her nose, or letting her hair grow a little longer, he couldn’t imagine any significant changes.
Lord, he’d missed her. They all had. Life on the ranch kept them running from sunup until sundown, and it was only at dinner that they all ached to have her around trying to boss them into eating something new and different she had prepared for them. She was a fine cook when she didn’t stray from the familiar, but none of them could abide the fancy French sauces she liked to pour over everything.
The stagecoach was over an hour late, which meant that crusty old Clive Harrington was doing the driving. He would have had to catch up on all the gossip with Mary Rose before they started out. Clive would demand her full attention, and knowing what a soft heart his sister had, Cole knew she wouldn’t rush him.
They were fast friends, but no one in Blue Belle could understand why. Clive Harrington was a cantankerous old buzzard who constantly scowled, snapped, and complained and was, in Cole’s estimation, a thoroughly disagreeable son-of-a-bitch. He was also as ugly as sin. The walkways in town would clear at the first sight of him, unless Mary Rose was around. A magical transformation took place then. Clive went from ferocious to meek. Not only did he act as though he were everyone’s best friend, he also wore a ridiculous, ain’t-life-grand grin from morning until night. Harrington made a complete fool of himself doting on Mary Rose, and all because she doted on him. She really cared about the old coot. She took care of him when he needed caring, made certain he was included in their holiday dinners, and personally mended all of his clothes for him. Harrington always took ill once a year, usually around roundup time, but sometimes a full month before. He’d appear on their doorstep with his hat in one hand and a dirty handkerchief in the other, asking for a bit of advice about how to cure his latest mysterious ailment. It was all a ruse, of course. Mary Rose would immediately park old Clive in the guest room and pamper him for the full week it always took before he felt fit again.
Everyone in town called Harrington’s week of infirmity his annual getaway, and from the way the old man was dabbing at the corners of his eyes and rubbing his nose with his handkerchief while he slowed the horses, Cole surmised he was already planning his next holiday.
The stagecoach had barely rocked to a stop when the door flew open and Mary Rose jumped to the ground.
“I’m finally home,” she called out. She picked up her skirts and ran to her brother. Her bonnet flew off her head and landed in the dust behind her. She was laughing with sheer joy. Cole tried to maintain his somber expression because he didn’t want Harrington spreading the rumor he’d gone soft. Cole liked having everyone in town fear him. His sister’s laughter proved contagious, however, and Cole couldn’t control his reaction. He smiled first, then burst into laughter. Appearances be damned.
Mary Rose hadn’t changed at all. She was still just as dramatic and uninhibited as always, and, heaven help him, she’d be the death of all the brothers, who constantly worried about the way she always wore her heart on her sleeve.
She threw herself into his arms. For such a little thing, she had the grip of a bear. Cole hugged her back, kissed her on the top of her head, and then suggested to her that she. quit laughing like a crazy woman.
She wasn’t offended. She pulled away, put her hands on her hips, and gave her brother a thorough inspection.
“You’re still as handsome as ever, Cole. Have you killed anyone while I was at school?”
“Of course not,” he snapped. He folded his arms across his chest, leaned back against the wagon, and tried to frown at her.
“You look like you grew another inch or two. Your hair seems more blond too. When did you get that scar on your forehead? Did you get into a fight?”
Before he could answer her questions, she turned to Harrington. “Clive, did my brother shoot anyone while I was away?”
“Not that I recollect, Miss Mary,” he called back.
“Any knife fights?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” Clive answered.
Mary Rose seemed convinced. She smiled again. “I’m so happy to be home. I’ve made up my mind. I’m never leaving again. Adam isn’t going to make me go anywhere, no matter how good it might be for my mind or my soul. I’m all refined now, and I’ve got the papers to prove it. Lord, it’s warm for spring, isn’t it? I love the heat and the dirt and the wind and the dust. Has Travis gotten into any fights in town? Never mind,” she added in a rush. “You wouldn’t tell me if he did anything wrong. Adam will though. He tells me everything. He wrote more than you did, by the way. Is the new barn finished? I got a letter from Mama Rose just the day before school ended. The mail arrived right on time too. Isn’t that something? We live in such modern times. What about . . .”
Cole was having trouble keeping up with his sister. She was talking as fast as a politician. “Slow down,” he interrupted. “I can only answer one question at a time. Catch your breath while I help Harrington unload your baggage.”
A few minutes later, her trunk, boxes, and three valises were packed in the back of the wagon. Mary Rose climbed up on the flatbed and started sorting through her things.
Cole told her to wait until they got home to find what she was looking for. She ignored his suggestion. She closed one box and turned to the second one.
Harrington stood next to the wagon, smiling at her. “I sure missed you, Miss Mary,” he whispered. He blushed like a schoolboy and gave Cole a quick look to make sure he wasn’t going to laugh at him.
Cole pretended he hadn’t heard the confession. He turned away before he rolled his eyes heavenward. His sister was obviously pleased by Harrington’s admission. “I missed you too, Clive. Did you get my letters?”
“I surely did,” he replied. “I read them more than once too.”
Mary Rose smiled at her friend. “I’m happy to hear it. I didn’t forget your birthday. Don’t leave just yet. I have something for you.”
She was diligently sorting through her trunk and finally found the box she had been searching for.
She handed it to Clive. “This is for you. Promise me you won’t open it until you get home.”
“You got me a present?” He looked flabbergasted.
She smiled. “Two presents,” she corrected. “There’s another surprise tucked inside the first.”
“What is it?” Clive asked. He sounded like a little boy on Christmas morning.
Mary Rose took hold of his hand and climbed down out of the wagon. “It’s a surprise,” she answered. “That’s why I wrapped it in a box with such pretty paper. Thank you for the ride,” she added with a curtsy. “It was very lovely.”
“You ain’t mad because I wouldn’t let you ride up on the perch with me?”
“No, I’m not angry,” she assured him.
Harrington turned to Cole to explain. “She begged me
to let her sit up there with me, but I didn’t think it would be fitting for such a dignified young lady to be riding shotgun.”
Cole nodded. “We need to get going, Mary Rose.”
He didn’t wait for her agreement but turned and got up on the seat of the wagon. He took the reins in his hands and asked his sister to quit dawdling.
She had to chase after her forgotten bonnet first. Clive was clutching his present with both hands while he slowly walked back to his coach. He acted as if he were carrying a priceless treasure.
They were finally on their way home. Cole answered her questions while she removed most of the evidence proving she was a refined lady. She took off her white gloves first, then pulled out the pins holding her prim bun together at the back of her neck. She wasn’t satisfied until the thick, blond mass floated down her back.
She let out a sigh of pleasure while she threaded her fingers through her curls.
“I’m so sick of being a lady,” she said. “Honest to heaven, it’s such a strain.”
Cole laughed. Mary Rose knew she wouldn’t get any sympathy from him.
“You wouldn’t laugh if you had to wear a corset. It binds a body up as tight as a coil. It isn’t natural.”
“Did they make you wear one of those things at school?” Cole was horrified by the idea.
“Yes,” she answered. “I didn’t though. No one could tell, after all. I never got dressed in public.”
“I hope to God not.”
He had to slow the horses when they started the steep climb up the first ridge. Mary Rose turned around so she could watch to make sure her trunk didn’t fall off the back of the wagon.
Once they’d reached the crest, she turned around again. She took off her navy blue jacket, draped it over the back of the bench, and started unbuttoning the cuffs of her starched white blouse. The collar was chafing her neck. She unbuttoned the top three buttons.
For the Roses Page 4
