“What kind of name is Harrison?” Travis asked in a voice loud enough for Harrison to hear.
“A family name,” Harrison called back. He draped the saddle and the blanket over the fence, shut the gate behind him, and walked over to meet the youngest of Mary Rose’s brothers.
“What kind of name is Travis? Irish?”
Travis smiled. “Could be,” he replied in a gratingly cheerful tone of voice.
What the hell kind of answer was that? He couldn’t ask because Mary Rose had already jumped into an explanation of how she had met Harrison and how kind and thoughtful he was because he’d warned Cole of an ambush.
Harrison watched Travis during her lengthy explanation and one thought kept running through his mind. No way in hell. This man couldn’t possibly be a relative. He didn’t look anything like any of the others, though the more Harrison thought about it, not looking like the others seemed to be the one trait they all shared. Hell, Travis looked more like MacHugh.
The comparison made Harrison smile. Travis had reddish brown hair and green eyes. His face was square shaped. Mary Rose had a perfectly oval face. Travis was about the same height as Douglas, but he didn’t have his bulk. The youngest brother was reed thin, and he lacked Cole’s muscle.
Harrison decided nothing more could surprise him. If she tried to tell him Travis happened to have a twin brother who was a full-blooded Crow, he wouldn’t bat an eye. He might even be able to keep a straight face when he asked the twin if he happened to be Irish too.
He started paying attention to the conversation when Mary Rose told Travis that he would be staying for supper. Her brother didn’t look irritated by the announcement. In fact, he looked resigned.
Harrison had only just decided this brother wasn’t nearly as abrasive as Cole, but the man quickly changed his mind.
“You’ve got guts to ride such an ugly horse.”
“Travis, don’t be rude,” Mary Rose ordered.
“I wasn’t being rude,” he replied. “I was giving Harrison a compliment. It does take guts.” He turned to his guest. “Sorry if you took offense.”
“Harrison, are you gonna saddle up MacHugh tomorrow?”
Cole shouted the question from the back of the wagon.
Harrison was immediately suspicious. “Why?” he shouted back.
The brother lifted the sack of flour onto his shoulder before answering. “I want to watch.”
Harrison knew he would regret it if he said anything at all, and so he forced himself to keep silent. It almost killed him.
He watched Cole cross the veranda and go inside the house and only then noticed the tall, black-skinned man leaning against the pillar. The stranger was quite impressive looking, with wide shoulders, silver-tipped hair, and round gold-framed spectacles that made him appear scholarly. He wore a muted red plaid shirt open at the collar and dark brown pants. He looked very relaxed and thoroughly at home.
Harrison wondered if he was another lost soul Mary Rose had taken under her wing and invited home for dinner. If that was the case, the man had obviously decided to stay on.
“Don’t pay any attention to Cole, Harrison. He likes to tease. That’s all. He doesn’t mean to hurt your feelings. He’s actually a very gentle, understanding man.”
She smiled up at him to let him know she really expected him to believe that nonsense. It took a good deal of willpower not to laugh right in her face.
“For heaven’s sake, Mary Rose, Harrison’s a man, not a little boy.” Travis gave the brotherly criticism and fell into step beside their guest. “You’ll get used to my sister, but it’s gonna take a while. She’s always worried about everyone’s feelings. She can’t seem to help it. Just ignore her. We do.”
After giving him that sage advice, he ran on ahead.
“Just one more brother to meet, and then you’ll know everyone. Hurry up, Harrison. Adam’s waiting for us.”
Mary Rose ran up the steps, but stopped next to the stranger. Harrison assumed she wanted to introduce the other guest to him before they went inside to meet Adam.
He was mistaken in his assumption.
“Adam, I’d like you to meet my friend, Harrison MacDonald. He’s from Scotland.”
Adam moved away from the pillar to face Harrison. “Is that right?” he replied. “Welcome to Rosehill, Mr. MacDonald.”
Harrison was too stunned to speak. He glanced down at Mary Rose, then looked back at Adam. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do or say now, and neither one of them was giving him any clues. They simply stared back at him and waited to see how he was going to react to the announcement.
He would have loved to have had a detailed explanation as to why the black-skinned man was calling himself her brother and why she was accepting him as such.
He finally gathered his wits about him. It wasn’t his place to ask any questions, and they certainly didn’t need to explain. He just wished to God someone would.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Your sister very kindly invited me to stay for supper. I hope it won’t be an inconvenience.” Harrison extended his hand in greeting. Adam seemed surprised by the gesture. He hesitated for a second or two, and finally shook his hand.
“It won’t be any bother at all. We’re quite used to Mary Rose inviting strangers home for supper.” He paused to smile at his sister. “Scotland’s a long way from here.”
Harrison agreed with a nod. “Supper’s waiting,” Adam announced. “You can wash up inside.”
He led the way. Mary Rose followed. Harrison stood where he was and tried to sort out all the wild possibilities rushing through his mind.
He couldn’t get anything to make any sense. How in God’s name had she ended up with four such diverse, couldn’t-possibly-be-related brothers?
Mary Rose held the screen door open and patiently waited for him.
He finally shook himself out of his trance.
“About Adam . . .” she began.
“Yes?” He braced himself for another one of her surprises, fully expecting to be flabbergasted again.
“You haven’t asked yet, but I thought I would tell you anyway.”
He felt like cheering. Finally. He was going to get some real, honest-to-God explanations.
“Yes?”
She smiled up at him. “He isn’t Irish.”
July 1, 1862
Dear Mama Rose,
We’re having an awful time trying to get the baby to quit wetting her drawers. Being boys like we are, we do things different. The baby caught Travis one afternoon, and she’s been standing up ever since. We tried to explain to her that girls don’t do it that way, but she won’t listen to reason, and now we’re starting to think maybe she doesn’t understand she’s a girl. Adam swears she’s as smart as a whip, but she’s also as stubborn as Cole, and you know how mule-headed he can be. We all figured we needed a woman to help us out with the problem. Adam thought he should take the baby over to Belle’s shack, since she’s the only woman in the entire area. Cole pitched a fit over the idea. He didn’t want little Mary Rose hanging around a whore, but I thought it ought to count for something that Belle was so good-hearted. Besides, everyone knows she hates what she has to do to put food on her table. Why, she hates whoring so much, she tells every man who calls on her how sad and blue she is. It’s gotten so folks don’t even call her a whore anymore. No, they call her Blue Belle . . .
Your loving son,
Douglas Clayborne
4
Supper became an interrogation. The tables were neatly turned on Harrison, and while he was pretty certain he could have taken control of the questioning at any point, or at the very least put a stop to it altogether, he chose to go along with the game and be as accommodating as possible. He had an ulterior motive. The questions asked by the Clayborne brothers and their reactions to his answers gave him a good deal of information and insight into the family.
Each man used a different approach. Cole tried to be as blunt and intimidating a
s possible, Douglas was direct and often offered personal bits of information about the family, and Travis was both methodical and diplomatic. Adam was the most elusive. He maintained a rather stoic expression throughout dinner. Harrison was never given even an inkling of what he might be thinking.
Adam was the antithesis of his sister. Mary Rose was as easy to read as an elementary primer. Her every reaction showed on her face and in her eyes. Harrison had never met anyone quite like her. She was open and honest and wonderfully tenderhearted, and those qualities made him want to get closer to her.
He was honest enough to admit that he was also physically attracted to her. She was a beautiful woman, and he would have had to be dead not to notice. Her eyes mesmerized him, and that sweet mouth of hers made him want to think about things he had no right to even consider. Not even in his dreams.
But, while her beauty made him notice her, it was her heart that kept him interested.
Luckily, his discipline saved him from making a complete fool of himself. He stopped himself from blatantly staring at her during supper.
Her brothers weren’t as controlled in their behavior. They stared at him from the minute the food was placed on the table until the plates had been taken away. They were rude, knew it, and didn’t seem to give a damn.
They waited until their coffee cups had been refilled to begin their grilling. Harrison leaned back in his chair and let them have at him.
The pecking order in the family had been established as soon as the family took their seats. Adam sat at the head of the table, a position of importance Harrison found both significant and intriguing. Mary Rose sat on his left side and Cole was on his right. Douglas sat down next to his sister, and Travis, the youngest brother, sat down next to Cole. Harrison was seated at the opposite end of the table and faced the man he silently called the patriarch of the Clayborne family.
“Did you get enough to cat, Mr. MacDonald?” Adam inquired.
“Yes, thank you. The stew was excellent. Please call me Harrison.”
Adam nodded. “And you must call me Adam,” he suggested. “In England, some men hold titles. Is this true in Scotland?”
“Yes, it is,” he answered.
“What about you, Harrison. Do you have a title?” Douglas asked.
He didn’t answer. He felt uncomfortable discussing the topic and had to admit to himself he was even a little embarrassed. A titled gentleman suddenly seemed pompous to him and certainly out of his element in these mountains.
“Well, do you?” Cole demanded to know.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” he admitted. “The title has been passed down from generation to generation, a tradition really.”
“What is your title?” Adam asked.
Harrison sighed. There didn’t seem to be any way out of the admission. “I am the Earl of Stanford, Hawk Isle.”
“That’s an awful lot to be saddled with growing up,” Douglas remarked. “Were you born with the title?”
“No, I inherited it when my father died.”
“What do people there call you? Sir?” Cole asked.
“Staff would.”
“And others?” Cole persisted.
“Lord.”
Cole grinned. “Sounds mighty fancy to me,” he remarked. “Do you have lots of money and land?”
“No.”
Mary Rose could tell their guest was uncomfortable. She decided to put him at ease by stopping the discussion about titles.
“Adam made the stew for our supper. It was his turn to help Samuel.”
“Who is Samuel?” Harrison asked.
“He’s our cook,” she explained. “You haven’t met him yet. He sometimes sits at the table with us, but he was busy tonight.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Cole told his sister. He turned to Harrison. “He pretended to be busy. He hates strangers. You won’t see him until he’s good and ready to let you see him. What made you decide to leave Scotland?”
The switch in topics didn’t take Harrison by surprise. He almost smiled over the ploy. He’d used the same technique many times in court. The goal was to get the witness to drop his guard and answer without even thinking.
“I wanted to see the States.”
Cole didn’t look as if he believed him. Harrison didn’t bother to try to convince him. He didn’t say another word, but simply stared back and waited for him to ask another question.
“I understand from Mary Rose that you want to learn how to ranch,” Douglas interjected..
“Yes.”
“Why?” Travis asked.
“The life appeals to me.”
Travis obviously wanted him to go into a more detailed explanation. Harrison refused to accommodate him. He was going to make him work to find out what he wanted to know.
“It’s backbreaking work,” Douglas told him.
“I imagine it is,” Harrison agreed.
“What exactly do you find appealing about ranching?” Travis persisted.
“Being outdoors,” Harrison answered. “And working with my hands.”
“There are lots of things you could do to get outdoors,” Cole interjected.
“You sound like you’ve been cooped up in an office,” Travis said.
“Yes,” Harrison replied. “I do sound like that, don’t I?”
“Well, were you?” Travis asked. His frustration in not getting a more satisfactory answer was apparent in his tone of voice.
“Most of the time I was in an office,” Harrison admitted. “But lately I’ve been able to do some traveling on business matters.”
“Who do you work for?” Douglas asked.
“Lord William Elliott,” he answered. “I’ve taken a leave from my duties, however.”
“So he’s got a fancy title too,” Douglas remarked.
Harrison agreed with a nod but didn’t go into more detail.
And so it continued, on and on and on. Harrison would occasionally give an obviously evasive answer or deliberately go off on a tangent just to find out which brother would bring him back to the question they wanted answered. It was curious and surprising to him that Travis, the youngest brother, proved to be the most doggedly determined. He was also quite analytical.
He would have made one hell of an attorney.
“Why didn’t you stay in the States?” Travis asked.
“The ‘States’?” Harrison repeated, not certain he understood the question.
“Montana isn’t a state,” Douglas explained.
“Yes,” Harrison said. “I’d forgotten that fact. Do you believe the area will become a state soon?”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Douglas told him.
He was going to expound further on the topic of statehood, but Travis cut him off. “So why did you come all this way?”
They had come full circle once again. Harrison could barely hide his smile.
“I wanted to see the land. I believe I already mentioned that fact, Travis.”
“Please quit pestering him,” Mary Rose pleaded. She leaned forward then, with her elbow on the table and her chin resting in the palm of her hand, and smiled at Harrison.
“What do you think of our home?” she asked.
Harrison watched Adam while he answered her question. The oldest brother hadn’t said a word for quite some time. He looked half asleep, and Harrison was beginning to think he wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation, yet the second his sister put her elbow on the table, he slowly reached over and touched her arm with one hand. It was a very subtle reminder. Mary Rose instinctively turned to her brother to find out what he wanted. Adam didn’t explain. Harrison knew he didn’t want to draw any attention to her breach in manners. He must have applied a little pressure on her arm, however, because she suddenly straightened up in her chair and put her hands in her lap.
Then she smiled at Adam. He winked back at her.
Harrison pretended he hadn’t noticed what had just happened. He moved his cup from one spot on the table
to another and shifted his position in the hard-backed chair.
“Your home is beautiful,” he remarked.
“You haven’t seen all that much of it,” Douglas protested.
“He saw the first floor,” Cole interjected. “And that’s all he’s ever going to see. The upstairs is off limits, Harrison.”
“There are just bedrooms up there,” Mary Rose hastily added. She frowned at Cole for sounding so rude, then looked at their guest once again.
Harrison smiled at her. “The house took me by surprise. I didn’t expect . . .”
Cole cut him off. “Did you expect us to live like barbarians?”
Harrison had taken about all he was going to take from the abrasive man. He decided to goad him just enough to make him lose his temper.
“Do you believe I would think you live like barbarians because you occasionally act like one?”
Cole started to stand up, but Mary Rose changed his mind.
“He didn’t mean to insult you,” she told her brother. “You can be intimidating. Some might even call you a bully.”
“They do call him a bully,” Travis said. “At least in town they probably do.”
Cole shook his head. “I can’t take the credit for something that isn’t true,” he said. “People think I’m antisocial, Harrison. Unfortunately I still haven’t earned the nickname of bully. I’m working on it.”
Cole turned to his sister. “Thanks anyway, Mary Rose.”
She let him see her exasperation. Then she explained to Harrison. “Out here, being a bully does have certain advantages. People tend to leave you alone, and Cole likes that. Therefore, your remark that Cole acted barbaric was actually a note of praise. Do you see?”
“Are you telling me I just gave him a compliment?” He tried not to sound incredulous, but knew he’d failed when the brothers smiled at him.
Mary Rose wasn’t smiling. “Yes, actually you did,” she said.
He wanted to vehemently disagree. Yet she had sounded so earnest and was now looking so worried he wouldn’t go along with her outrageous fabrication to placate her brother, he decided to play along.
For the Roses Page 11
