The Woodsman's Rose

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The Woodsman's Rose Page 8

by Gifford MacShane


  Irene was wearing a light blue gown that made her eyes bright as sapphires. Her black hair was piled on top of her head, and he wanted to touch the stray tendrils framing her face. He’d wanted to dance with her all afternoon, but each time he approached her, one of her brothers or Michael Flaherty had claimed her hand. He couldn’t object to her brothers, but Flaherty’s attentions had made his blood boil. This time alone with her was soothing to his jangled nerves.

  “Do you want me to take her?” he murmured.

  “No, let her sleep. She’ll feel better when she wakes up. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Again his dark hand found the golden curls. As beautiful as you are, though so different. Oh, I wish...

  “Do you think you could find me something to lean on?” Irene whispered. In response, he reached behind her and braced his arm against the bench. She leaned into him, and a few moments later, rested her head against his shoulder. It was meaningless, he knew—neither more nor less than she’d do with her brothers. With her father. Or for that matter, with his.

  He’d missed being with her. Since his argument with Daniel, it seemed his time with most of the Donovan clan had been limited. But he pushed all thought of that conflict aside. Right now, it was enough to be close to her, to breathe in the faint scent of violets. He looked over at the sleeping child.

  Our children would have black hair. The thought came unbidden, startling him with its strength. He held in a sigh. Even if her family would accept him with his mixed blood, it was obvious Michael Flaherty had the upper hand.

  But he’s her brother-in-law now. He was wise enough to know it was hope feeding the idea and it was, in fact, more negative than positive. The two families were now intertwined—she might be spending more time with Michael than ever before. Shaking off his gloom, he closed his eyes. As the breeze blew the tendrils of her hair against his cheek, he let all thought of tomorrow drift off.

  Chapter 17

  As evening fell and the guests from the outlying areas began to disperse, Annie looked around for Daniel. Her duties were done and she wanted to be close to him. She saw him leaning against a tree at the edge of the orchard and her heart sank.

  His face was calm, but his eyes were narrowed and he stood stiffly against the tree. Before him stood Alec Twelve Trees, and from his gestures Annie knew what the debate was. She approached and when the woodsman saw her, he waved her away. But she continued on as she heard Alec say, “Sorry doesn’t bring her back. Sorry means nothing!”

  “He doesn’t understand,” Daniel said to Annie.

  “I don’t understand?” Alec’s voice shook. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand! You’re the one who’s supposed to be my friend!”

  “I am your friend, Alec. But I won't hurt someone else to prove it to you.”

  Alec gave him a black look and strode fiercely away. Holding Annie’s hand, Daniel walked into the orchard. All day long, with the crowds and the excitement, he’d felt a hundred miles away from her. He touched the ring he’d placed on her finger at Christmas, then drew her into his arms, made an effort to dismiss Alec from his mind. He breathed deeply of the perfume of her hair, the hair that hung loose, freed from its braid for this special occasion. The peace of her flooded into his veins, and he dropped to his knees.

  “Annie.” Her name caught in his throat. “Annie, I love you. I need you. Won't you marry me now?”

  He felt the sudden stillness of her and realized he’d been too abrupt. Her face went pale, her eyes fell. He arose again, knowing she couldn’t give him the answer he wanted.

  Before she could speak he said, “It’s too soon, isn’t it, aroon?” She nodded, a quick gesture of both fear and relief. He encircled her shoulders with his arm and felt her relax. His voice was warm and sincere. “I love you, Annie. I can wait.” He touched her nose with one finger. “The longer I wait, the more you will love me.”

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Daniel found her sitting on the front steps of his home. She’d stayed overnight after telling her father she was too tired for the ride to town. She’d been with them for four days now, sharing a room with Irene, working not only on the cake, but helping Molly and Moira Flaherty with the other baking. Now as he linked his hand with hers, he knew he should take her home and let her rest.

  “Hello, sweetheart.”

  “Good morning.” Her head drooped against his arm as he toyed with her braid, brought the end of it up to tickle her face. She giggled and swatted at him but he persisted in his game, until she hid her face against him.

  “Stop,” she pleaded.

  “Say please.”

  “Please.”

  “Pretty please.”

  “You’re teasing me.”

  “Hmmm.” He lifted her chin with one hand, saw that her mouth was drawn up in a pout. His fingers brushed her lips and she closed her eyes, pressing closer to him. He touched her cheek, traced the line of her jaw, the shell of her ear. He heard her breath catch. When she raised her eyes, he gazed into their pale depths and whispered, “Annie, I love you.” And bent to kiss her.

  Several moments later, she murmured his name.

  “Yes, aroon,” he answered, but she made no response. “What is it?”

  “I think I should go home.”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “I know. But I think I should.”

  “Do you really want to?”

  “I really should.”

  After a brief pause he asked, “Got your stuff packed?”

  “Almost. I can finish in about ten minutes.”

  “All right,” he said, helping her to her feet. “It’ll take that long to hitch up the horses.”

  She slipped into his arms. “I love you, Daniel,” she whispered against his ear. Then she darted away, leaving him to stare after her.

  As Daniel hitched up the team, Jake sprinted into the barn.

  “Where ya goin’?”

  “Taking Annie home. Want to come along for the ride?”

  “Oh, yeah,” the lad said eagerly. “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “Nope. In fact, it’d be better for us to have someone else along.”

  “A girl’s gotta be pretty careful, huh?”

  “Up to the man to watch out for her,” Daniel replied. “Funny the way things are—man makes a mistake and everybody just laughs behind his back. Woman makes a mistake, and she suffers for the rest of her life.”

  “Doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Jake observed.

  “Take me and Annie, for instance. If a wheel fell off this buggy and it took me ’til nightfall to get it back on, she’d get home after dark. It wouldn’t be anybody’s fault, and nothing wrong would have happened, but if we were alone, she’d take the blame. And the only thing for her to do would be marry me tomorrow or live the rest of her life in shame.”

  “Don’t appear to me that marryin’ her would be such a great hardship for you.” At Daniel’s enigmatic smile, Jake added, “Wonder if I’ll ever get married.”

  The woodsman knew his brother had been trying to cultivate a relationship with Cynthia Callendar for a while, but didn’t seem to have made much progress. “Have to be someone pretty special, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yeah. I guess it would.”

  “I’ve loved Annie since we were kids, and I never thought I’d have a chance with her. But Adam and Jesse have only known each other for a year and a half, and they’ve been married for most of it. You don’t know what’s going to happen, Jake. All you can do is wait and see.”

  Annie returned and Jake snagged one of her valises and stowed it under the seat, while Daniel strapped the other to the back of the buggy. He examined the sky—the unseasonable heat of the day before had given way to cool humidity.

  “Better get your coat,” he told Jake. “Might get cold on the way home—it’s clouding up to the west.” He helped Annie into the buggy. “I’ve got a blanket if you need it.”

  “I should be plenty warm enough in this,” she answered, g
esturing at the brown cloak she wore. “Besides, it’s going to be pretty cozy with both of you for company.”

  Daniel laughed at her. The only substantial width to his brother was in his shoulders, and he could span Annie’s waist with his hands. Between her slenderness and Jake’s lankiness, there would have been room for four on the seat. He climbed up and crowded over next to her, leaving no room at all for his brother. “Cozy enough?”

  “You get back over there where you belong,” she said, shoving playfully at him, “or this buggy will tip right over on its side.”

  He was pleased when she slid over next to him, and as soon as Jake climbed in, they were on their way. They talked of the harvest and the coming winter, Daniel predicting one colder than usual.

  “Why you saying that?” Jake asked.

  “The squirrels are building their nests low in the trees, and the ant mounds are higher than usual,” the woodsman said. “Add in the amount of fruit on the holly trees and acorns on the oaks... Well, you can bet your bottom dollar it’ll be longer and colder than we’ve had in a few years. And if all the leaves fall before their color change is complete—”

  “Don’t say that!” Annie protested. “I love the changing colors. This is the best time of the year.”

  To please her, they admired the aspens with their shimmery gilt, maples tending toward orange, oak leaves deep as golden Irish porter—all set against the green of cedars and pines. Annie tucked her hand in under his arm and allowed her head to rest briefly on his shoulder, and Daniel found the trip much too short.

  White’s Station was bustling along, filled to the brim with horses, wagons and buggies. Daniel helped Annie down while Jake jumped out to grab her bags and follow them into the bootmaker’s. The shop was crowded with customers. Annie hung her cloak up and began to help Owen with the orders. There were a pair of cowboys who’d been customers before and knew exactly what they wanted—they’d come back for their boots in two weeks. There was a farmer looking for a pair of sturdy workboots. He wasn’t picky about the fit, but had to try on several pair before Annie was satisfied. And finally, there was a man of Daniel’s approximate age, holding a little girl of five or six by the hand.

  “Here you are, honey,” Owen said as he handed her a package. “All fixed up good as new.”

  She looked up at him shyly and accepted the parcel.

  “How much, Mr. Griffiths?” asked her father in a brogue even stronger than John Patrick’s.

  “Fifteen cents if you call me Owen. Otherwise, ten bucks.”

  The Irishman laughed. “I’m not so rich that I can afford false pride, Owen.” He counted out the change. “And it’s John you’ll be callin’ me, is it not?”

  “John or Sean?” asked Daniel.

  The Irishman noticed him for the first time. “In the auld country, ’twas Sean,” he admitted, glancing from the auburn head of the woodsman to Jake’s flaming mop. “And ’twould not be surprisin’ me t’ be addressin’ two more sons of Erin.”

  “Grandsons,” Daniel explained, holding out a hand. “Name’s Donovan. Daniel. And this is my brother, Jake.”

  “John Riley,” the newcomer replied, accepting both handshakes. “And this is me daughter, Norah.” She peeked around his leg.

  “Hello, Norah,” Daniel said. A tiny smile was his reward.

  “John bought the Olson place,” Owen informed them, then turned back to Riley. “The boys live out of town a ways. Donovan has a big spread to the north. How many of you there now?”

  “Only seven left at home,” Daniel answered. “Mother and Dad, Irene, the twins and us.” Liking the newcomer on sight, he added, “Got two more brothers—twins as well—that live on a ranch west of us, and another brother at sea. My sister Evelyn’s married to Owen’s son Lowell. Oh, and my brother Frank just got married, too. That’s all of us, isn’t it, Jake?”

  “Except Jesse. My sister-in-law,” Jake put in. “Married to my oldest brother.”

  “A proper Irish family,” Riley approved. “I’ve a son, also. Name of Timothy. Just the two we had. Ah, well. Norah, say good-bye now. We’ll be seein’ you ’round, to be sure.”

  The child gave them another shy smile and followed her father out.

  “Hello, girl,” Owen said to Annie. “Not much of a greeting to come home to, was it?”

  “That’s all right,” she answered. “I’m glad you’re so busy. Guess you didn’t have time to miss me.”

  “When you’re wrong, lass, you’re certainly wrong!”

  Daniel kissed her on the cheek. “Get some sleep, aroon. You’re worn out, and I don’t want you getting sick.”

  “Will I see you Thursday?”

  “You bet.”

  BEFORE HE LEFT TOWN, Daniel stopped in at the livery and as he uttered a greeting, the blacksmith sang out, “Ya heard the news?”

  “What news?”

  “Renegades took off.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “Don't know. Don’t care.” The smith gave a ringing endorsement of his opinion with his hammer. “Boy’s still there, though.”

  “Blue Deer?”

  “Yep. His father, Short Feathers, joined up with Yella Knife ’most soon as ’e got here. By the time they left, he was ’is right-hand man.” Tommy drew a ladle of water from a bucket on his work bench and drank deeply, then drew another and splashed it over his head. He poured the rest of the water into the forge, sending up a thick cloud of steam.

  “I’m glad of that,” Daniel said when he could see the smith again. “I don’t know how that boy would have survived being a nomad.”

  “That’s what ’is mother said. She asked Alec t’ talk t’ the elders, ’cause she was bein’ shunned, too—just ’cause she was ’is woman. Alec made ’em see it wasn’t fair. This was her tribe, not his—he comes from down Piñon way. An’ with the boy...” Pride in his son was apparent in Tommy’s voice, in the faint smile on his face.

  “That’s great. I’ll tell Dad—I know he’ll be happy to hear it. By the way, have you seen Jake? I was supposed to meet him here.”

  “Just saw ‘im follow Cynthia Callendar into the mercantile.”

  “Of course. Guess I’ll have to go drag him out.”

  “Good luck with thet!”

  Daniel threw him a salute and, as he started down the street, Tommy’s laugh boomed out behind him.

  THREE DAYS LATER, GEORDIE disappeared. John Patrick found his note on the kitchen table when he came down to light the stove.

  Back in a few days,

  G.

  P. S. Don’t worry Mother.

  He frowned as he read it again. He’d noticed that his son had been even more quiet than usual in the past few weeks, though Molly had said she felt sure that he wasn't “in a stew”. Yet the crops were ripening, and within a week it would be time to start the harvest. Hooking a thumb in his vest pocket, he showed the note to his wife.

  “Did he say anything at all to you?” Molly asked.

  “Asked for his wage book last week. Hope he’s not done something foolish.”

  Apprehensive, they agreed that all they could do was wait. Geordie was, after all, well past the age of majority. But that didn’t stop the conjecture.

  “Maybe he’s gone off to sea with Conor,” Adam said. John Patrick glared at him.

  “Or to Dodge City to be a gambler,” put in Jake.

  “Or prospectin’ up in the Rockies,” Brian said.

  “To San Francisco to buy a book for Adam,” was Jesse’s contribution.

  “Maybe he’s joined the circus,” Daniel said.

  “Enough!” John Patrick demanded with a clap of his hands. He’d been watching his wife’s face grow more confused and anxious as each theory was revealed. “Boy said he’d be back in a few days. We’ve nothing to do but wait and see.

  “Molly bawn, the boy will surely be back.”

  “Of course he will, Mother,” said Jesse, giving her a hug. “We’re just being silly. I’m sure everything’s
fine. Geordie will explain it all when he gets back.”

  Molly smiled weakly, but in spite of her family’s reassurance, could find no peace of mind. No one knew where Geordie’d gone. No one knew what “a few days” meant. Not even Adam, who knew them all so well, would hazard a guess. And in this Arizona, that was so unforgivingly wild with its mountains and deserts, rattlesnakes and scorpions, and natives who might not be as friendly as the local tribe...

  She lay awake at night, wishing she could stop the thoughts that plagued her and praying fervently that her son be safe.

  Chapter 18

  When Sunday rolled around again, Molly’s eyes were heavy and her hands trembling. It was only when Annie arrived with Evelyn and Lowell, wearing the secretive smile that said a surprise was sure to come, that Molly felt the tension in her neck unravel.

  The family was gathered on the porch when Geordie drove up in a new buggy, his own horse tied behind it. He pulled the team up with a flourish, jumped down to help his passenger alight. She was a pretty girl of average height, average figure, with hair almost as fair as Annie’s and brown eyes that matched her twill traveling suit. As Geordie took her arm and climbed the steps, Annie held her hands out in welcome. The girl gave her a half-formed smile in return.

  “Mother, Dad,” Geordie said, “this is Suzette Burkhardt. Suzette Burkhardt Donovan.”

  Molly gasped, John Patrick sputtered, and Annie stepped forward to draw the girl into her arms.

  “Welcome,” she said with a kiss on the cheek. “I’m Annie.” Everything will be all right. Give them a minute, just one little minute.

  Suzette looked at her in surprise, her nervousness fading as Annie’s slender, gentle hand touched her cheek. Then the woodsman held out his hand, tickled her face with his mustache. “Welcome to the family. Hope Geordie told you what you’ve gotten into!”

  Then Suzette was pressed against Molly’s bosom.

  “My dear, please excuse me. The surprise—but ’tis no excuse.” Suzette was hugged again and, when she was released, looked up to find tears in Molly’s eyes. The girl glanced at Geordie, reached out a hand to him, and they were both crushed in his mother’s arms.

 

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