Coming Up Roses

by Duncan, Alice

  “Well, then, take us to the Columbian Guard!” Rose demanded. “Somebody has to do something!”

  Why not? Since he couldn’t think of a decent answer to that one, H.L. said, “Come with me. We’ll find one of these famous guards. Who knows? He might even want to help us.” Still, H.L. had his doubts.

  “If he doesn’t want to help us, he’d better do it anyway,” Rose announced with remarkable ferocity, given her size and relative delicacy of appearance.

  Little Elk remained silent while they searched for one of the uniform-clad guards hired specifically to keep order at the Columbian Exposition. They did a good job of it, too, for the most part, although H.L. would be much surprised if their expertise extended as far as finding lost or kidnapped children. Especially Indian children. He really didn’t want to cast aspersions on his fellow Chicagoans, but he had a notion nobody was going to care a whole lot about this little lost boy. Except, of course, his tribe. And Rose, God bless her.

  Speaking of which . . . “Say, how old is this kid, anyhow?”

  “Ten, I think.” Rose turned to Little Elk, who nodded. “Yes, he’s ten.”

  “That’s not very old.” Lordy, H.L. hoped whoever’d captured the little boy wasn’t a complete lunatic.

  Although the Globe never published the most sordid of the crimes committed in the wonderful city of Chicago, H.L. knew more than he wanted to about most of them. Child prostitution was far from unheard of, and white slavers took boys as well as girls. Human perversions ran to all types.

  The thought made H.L. feel sick to his stomach. He discovered within himself a fervent hope that they could find the little boy before something awful happened to him. He found himself walking faster and faster, until he realized Rose was panting at his side. He slowed down. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to race.”

  “No, that’s perfectly all right,” she gasped. “Finding Bear is more important than my breath.”

  “It won’t do him any good if you faint,” H.L. pointed out, somewhat irked by her sharp tone.

  “I won’t faint! For heaven’s sake, Mr. May, I’m accustomed to much heavier exercise than this on a nightly basis.”

  “Yeah, but when you ride your horse, you aren’t wearing a corset.”

  She turned brick red and shut up, although she did cast him a look that might have withered him had he been a less hardy specimen of mankind. He was totally charmed, although he knew better than to say so. She’d probably sock him. After sliding a quick glance at Little Elk, H.L. decided he’d probably help her do it.

  “Is that one of the guards?” Rose said suddenly.

  Glancing in the direction she pointed, H.L. released a breath of relief. “Yes. Better let me do the talking.” He was surprised, but gratified, when neither of his companions voiced an argument.

  The member of the Columbian Guard they approached appeared very dignified. H.L. hoped his sobriety of demeanor didn’t mask an empty head, but he didn’t allow himself to hope very hard.

  Chapter Ten

  “I expect the boy’s just run off to see the fair, don’t you?”

  Rose stared wide-eyed at the Columbian Guard, whose broad, placid face reflected the same complacency she’d heard in his voice.

  Before H.L., who had tendered the initial explanation of Bear in Winter’s disappearance, could respond, Rose blew up. “No, we do not expect the boy’s just run off to see the fair! He’s been kidnapped, and I expect you to do something about it!”

  The guard, who was at least foot taller and a yard wider than Rose, allowed annoyance to dilute some of his complacency. “Now, little lady, there’s no need to carry on.”

  “There’s no—” Rose could scarcely believe her ears. She was so irate, her words clotted up and froze in her throat.

  “Take it easy, Miss Gilhooley,” H.L. May advised.

  Feeling betrayed, Rose turned on him. “How dare you tell me to take it easy! Bear has been kidnapped!” H.L. tried to pat her shoulder, but she swatted his hand away.

  “Listen, Miss Gilhooley, I’m on your side, remember?” H.L. hooked a thumb at the guard. “This guy’s the one who doesn’t give a rap what happened to the kid.”

  The round-faced guard, who had by this time lost the last vestige of his complacency, frowned at H.L. “Now see here, young man, that’s not true.”

  “It is so!” Rose whirled around and wagged a finger in his face. She had to reach to do it, but she wasn’t about to let this matter drop. “A child’s life is at stake here, Mister, and you’re treating it as if it were a mere nothing!”

  “Miss Gilhooley.”

  Rose could tell H.L. was speaking to her through gritted teeth, and she resented it like fire. “Don’t you ‘Miss Gilhooley’ me, Mr. May! This matter is too important to be treated lightly—and this man—” She poked the guard in his chubby chest. “—obviously doesn’t want to treat it at all!”

  The guard took a startled step backward. “My good woman—”

  Again Rose cut him off at the verbal knees. “Don’t you dare speak to me in that scornful voice!”

  “Scornful? But—” The guard stopped speaking when Rose didn’t.

  “You’d better do something about this right this minute, or you’ll face dire consequences. I’ll see to it!” She had no idea what those dire circumstances would be, or how she’d ever be able to deliver them, but she was too angry to consider such trivia at the moment.

  “Miss Gilhooley,” H.L. tried again, “give the man a minute to think, all right?”

  “He doesn’t need to think!” Rose bellowed. “He needs to act! Immediately! Instantly! That boy’s life is at risk!” Rose had forgotten all about Little Elk, although he was still there.

  She jumped when he lightly tapped her shoulder.

  “What?” When she jerked around to look at him, she was flabbergasted to see a small half-smile on his leathery, oak-colored face. She had to suck in air before she could speak without shouting. “Yes, Little Elk?”

  “Let the man talk,” Little Elk advised in his grumbly voice.

  “Good idea, Little Elk.”

  Rose would have liked to slap the grin from H.L. May’s face. Instead, she turned back to the guard. “All right, then, talk.”

  “Ahem.” The guard appeared flustered.

  Rose sneered, imagining this throat-clearing nonsense was merely a prelude for the spouting of more inanities. She managed to keep quiet, but it was a struggle.

  “My duties are to provide protection to fair-goers, ma’am,” the guard said stiffly, as if he’d rather not be speaking to her at all but perceived no alternative.

  “You didn’t do a very good job of protecting Bear in Winter, did you?” she snapped viciously.

  H.L. muttered, “Aw, cripes.”

  Little Elk touched her shoulder again. Rose, feeling stifled and miserable, shut her mouth.

  “The Columbian Guardsmen can’t be everywhere at once, miss,” the guard went on defensively. “I’m right sorry about the lad, but I can’t leave my post to go gallivanting all over Chicago to find him if he’s run off to see the sights.”

  “He hasn’t run off to see the sights!” Rose screeched, unable to contain her rage. “He was kidnapped!”

  “Rose,” H.L. said, speaking more sharply than she’d ever heard him.

  He’d also used her first name, which shocked her so much that her mind went blank and all of her words flew away. She wondered if that had been his intention, the rat.

  “Let me talk to this poor man, please,” H.L. went on, speaking into the silence occasioned by Rose’s state of shock. “We might get farther if we don’t accuse him of shirking his duty.” The tightness around H.L.’s eyes belied the silkiness of his voice.

  Rose, still flustered, noted his dour expression and took heart. Maybe he really was concerned enough to help find Bear.

  “True, true.” The guard tugged at his fancy uniform jacket and patted his badge. Obviously, he was proud as punch of his status at the Exposition. R
ose would like to shove the badge down his throat.

  “So, I understand you can’t leave the Exposition to search for a lost boy,” H.L. said before anyone else could speak. “But we need to know where the nearest police station is. Is it the one on Fiftieth Street, or is there one on the Navy Pier?”

  The guard cleared his throat and concentrated on H.L. Rose got the impression he was happy to be dealing with a sane man instead of a crazy woman, and she’d have kicked him if she thought it would do any good.

  “The Fiftieth Street Station is the closest. I advise you to go there, as long as you’re certain the lad’s nowhere in the Exposition grounds. It’s a vast place, you know. Have you looked around the fairgrounds?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Rose couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been this disgusted. “You’ve got a band of Sioux Indians here, you idiot! Don’t you think they’ve scoured the Exposition grounds long before this? They’re the best trackers in the world!”

  The guard, unable to avoid further communication with her, gave her a good, hot scowl before speaking. “Madam, I have no doubt your Indian friends know how to find rabbits and so forth in their native forest. This is a big city they’re in now, and life’s not so simple.”

  “Native forest?” Rose goggled at him, astounded that anyone could be so stupid. “Rabbits!” Turning precipitately, she grabbed H.L.’s coat sleeve. “Come on, Mr. May. This man is worse than useless. He’s a fuddle-headed moron! We must get to a real police station before whoever kidnapped Bear does something awful to him.”

  She’d have liked to shove H.L.’s sigh down his throat, along with another Columbian Guardsman’s badge. Since, however, he turned to accompany her, only flipping the Guardsman a farewell salute as he did so, she decided to wait until later to scream at him.

  “I’ve never seen such a stupid man,” she muttered as the three of them hurried back to the Wild West.

  “He’s only doing his job,” H.L. told her mildly.

  “Fiddlesticks!”

  “Will police find Bear?”

  Rose and H.L. both glanced at Little Elk. His voice was impassive, but Rose knew how worried he was. She shot H.L. a quick look before she said, “I hope so, Little Elk. If the police won’t help us, you and I can find him, I’m sure.”

  “What?” H.L. didn’t stop and stare at her because they were in too great a hurry, but the effect was the same. The look on his face was one of clear incredulity. Again, Rose wished she could do him bodily harm.

  She growled, “You heard me.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” he said flatly.

  “It is not. If the police won’t help us find that boy, we’ll just have to do it on our own.”

  “And how, pray, do you intend to do that? Whoever grabbed him probably didn’t take him to a mansion on the lake, you know. Do you think the two of you can wander around Chicago’s worst neighborhoods without courting danger? That’s the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard of.”

  If Rose had the time, she’d have grabbed him by his fancy city-suit lapels and shaken him until his brains rattled. As it was, she spoke through clenched teeth and with monumental fury. “You may or may not be aware that Little Elk and I grew up tracking game, Mr. May. You may also not be aware that tracking game and tracking people amounts to the same thing. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he and I were a whole lot better at it than any of your fancy-dancy Chicago policemen.”

  “Damnation, Miss Gilhooley! You don’t know what you’re talking about! There are street gangs in Chicago that would as soon slit your throat as look at you! And that’s after they’d . . . assaulted you. All of them!”

  To her storehouse of fury, Rose piled on a whole bunch of embarrassment. Assault assuredly meant rape, in this case. “How dare you speak to me like that,” she said in a voice shaking with indignation. “I can use a gun, a knife, and a whip better than a thousand of your Chicago ruffians. Just let any of them try to hurt me, is all I say!”

  “Jesus.” H.L. had his hands stuffed into his pockets. Rose got the feeling he’d like to strangle her with them and was keeping them in his pockets as a defense against committing a felonious attack. “If you hare out after this kid, you can bet your sweet life I’m going with you.”

  She sniffed. “Don’t be absurd. You’d only slow us down and get in the way.”

  “I would not!”

  “Would, too.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  He might have thought it ridiculous, but at least he finally shut up about it. Rose would have taken some pride in having silenced him except that she was so worried about Bear.

  Bear in Winter was Little Elk’s nephew, the son of his sister, and was a delightful child. He was one of Colonel Cody’s favorites, and was a whiz at riding and shooting. If life had been fair to the Sioux and they’d been allowed to maintain their nomadic life on the plains and in the hills, he’d probably have made a spectacular warrior.

  The free life was over for the Sioux, though. While Rose held certain opinions about savagery, which she’d garnered from her childhood on the Kansas frontier, she honestly didn’t hold any grudges against any of the Sioux knew. She’d learned in the cradle that life was a difficult proposition—and that’s even if the culture into which you were born still thrived. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Little Elk and his kin, who were no longer allowed to carry on as they’d done for generations, but were obliged to make do in a new and, to them, alien world. She honored Colonel Cody for giving so many of them employment, and for paying them the same wages he paid his white employees.

  Some of the old Sioux skills, however, could be used in this instance, no matter what H.L. May thought. The big city was as different from the Kansas plains as night was from day, but the principles of tracking were the same no matter where they were practiced. Not only that, but Rose had been taught by experts. If she had to kill a few of Chicago’s ruffians whilst practicing them, so be it. Bear in Winter was worth it.

  The three of them practically ran through the throngs of fair visitors on their way back to the Wild West. Rose was perspiring buckets in her pretty sailor suit. She was also beginning to feel distinct pangs of hunger, since she hadn’t eaten anything but a sausage-on-a-bun for lunch, and it was getting close to supper time. She reviled herself for thinking of her stomach at a time like this, but her stomach didn’t care.

  When they finally found the colonel, who was regaling a band of city slickers with tales of his scouting days with the army, H.L. did the talking, much to Rose’s initial dismay. She discovered, however, that he could be a concise and thorough communicator when he chose to be. Probably his journalistic training.

  The colonel expressed sincere dismay. “Hell, Little Elk, this is terrible. You want me to get a scouting party together and go look for the boy?”

  Rose cast H.L. a superior smirk. He rolled his eyes. She wanted to kick him.

  “I think we’d better report the kidnapping to the police first.” H.L. sounded totally rational and cool, and Rose chalked it up to his cold heart. “After we find out if they plan to do any searching, we can better decide if there’s anything the Wild West people should do.”

  The colonel nodded. “Good idea, son. Rosie, can you and Little Elk tell the police what happened?”

  “Yes. Little Elk has a description of the man who took him.”

  Little Elk nodded in agreement, and the colonel said, “Very well, then. Good luck to you. Will you be back for your performance, Rosie? If you need somebody to fill in . . .”

  Rose was shocked. “Oh, no, Colonel! I’ll be back. You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

  He smiled beatifically at her. “You’re a good little girl, Rosie. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Rose, H.L., and Little Elk rode a trolley car to the police station. Rose had never been on a trolley car before, and if the circumstances hadn’t been so frightening, she might have enjoyed herself. Her insides crampe
d with worry about Bear in Winter, though, and she wanted to get out of the trolley and push it sometimes, it seemed so slow.

  “For crying out loud, Miss Gilhooley, it’s a lot faster than walking would have been,” H.L. grumped at her when she expressed impatience.

  “I know. I know. It’s only that I’m so worried.”

  Little Elk, who sat on his seat in the trolley with his arms folded over his chest, and looking so much like an Indian from the wild, western frontier that the rest of the passengers actually seemed scared of him, grunted. “This thing goes fast, Wind Dancer. Calm yourself. You waste spirit with worry.”

  Rose glared at her oldest friend, feeling abused, misunderstood, and completely out of sorts. Was she the only one here who was worried about Bear in Winter?

  It didn’t help that she was still as hungry as a bear—so to speak—and still had on her corset. She wasn’t accustomed to wearing a corset, and she didn’t feel any inclination to get accustomed to wearing one, either. Corsets cut off one’s breath, made walking quickly difficult, and in general interfered with a woman’s life. She had a grumpy suspicion that men had created them as a means of keeping women in what men recognized as their “place.”

  Blast all men. She hated them all with equal ferocity at the moment.

  “I can’t help it if I’m worried about Bear, Little Elk,” she said resentfully. “He’s just a little boy, and he doesn’t know anything about life in a big city.”

  H.L. snorted. “And you do?”

  She rounded on him indignantly. “I know more than Bear in Winter does. Don’t forget that I’ve been to London and Paris—”

  “And Rome. I know. But at the moment you’re in Chicago, and it would probably behoove you to relax and let me take care of this problem. I know the police, and you don’t. What’s more, they’ll be more apt to pay attention to you if you don’t screech at them like you did to that poor Columbian Guard.”