Give My Love to Rose

by Nicole Sturgill

  Hattie nodded and quickly rushed off to do as he asked while Hattie stood there and stared him down. Marston simply shrugged and turned away. He had no interest in having a battle of wills with the scrawny, cow-eyed bitch of a woman.

  Marston began searching the store over for something he could give to Rose. He’d never in his life given a present to anyone and he’d never in his life celebrated Christmas. What did a man buy the woman he loved?

  As far as Marston knew Rose didn’t own a bit of jewelry. Wasn’t every woman supposed to have jewelry? Marston’s mind made up he made his way to the tiny glass case that held what small selection of jewelry the H&H mercantile had to offer.

  “We have a larger selection in the catalog,” Hattie informed him, stepping over. “You can place an order and it will arrive in two weeks.”

  “Well ma’am, this is going to be a Christmas present so I don’t really have the time to wait.” His eyes found a necklace. The cameo was soft pink with a cream flower motif and the gold chain was delicate but strongly forged.

  It was perfect—just like his Rose.

  “Are you interested in the necklace?” Hattie asked, circling the counter and pulling a key from her pocket. Marston nodded and while Hattie went about fetching the necklace, Marston glanced behind him and saw Hester scrambling about the story attempting to pick up all the dried fruit Marston had scattered.

  Marston’s first instinct was to let the damned woman pick it up herself, but then he remembered that Langley was watching and he thought of what Rose would want the boy to learn. Grudgingly, Marston stooped down and helped gather up all the pieces he could find.

  Once the mess was picked up, Marston walked to the cash register. “Langley, you about done?”

  The boy shook his head. “Why don’t you just go on and I’ll finish up and meet you outside?”

  Marston frowned. “Why the devil would you want me to do that?”

  Langley stuck his hands on his thin hips. “Please?”

  Marston threw his hands up and turned to Hattie. “How much do I owe you for my things?”

  Hattie jotted down numbers on a piece of paper. “That’ll be fifteen for the necklace—” Marston whistled low but nodded. “And another fifty cents for the gun supplies.”

  Marston pulled twenty-five dollars from his pocket and he could feel Hester’s eyes burning holes in those paper bills as he did so. “This’ll cover that, the fruit I spilled and whatever the boy chooses to get.”

  Hattie nodded and put the money in the register. She wrapped the necklace in a piece of soft clothes and placed it in a tiny sack before handing it and the sack of gun cleaning supplies to Marston.

  “Take your time, Langley,” Marston urged as he headed for the door. “You wouldn’t want to miss something and make the wrong decision.”

  Langley simply nodded and Marston was chuckling as he left the store. Marston placed his new supplies in the cart and led Buck and the cart over to the blacksmith.

  The man currently pounding a horseshoe, stopped swinging his hammer and smiled welcomingly at Marston. “You’ve been around here before—I recognize you.”

  “Yeah, I’m back,” Marston replied to the man who was nearly as big as he was.

  Tray Narramore held out a dirty hand and Marston shook it. “If it wasn’t for you being a brute like myself I probably never would have recognized you without that beard.”

  Marston rubbed at his jaw. “It was itchy.”

  Tray just chuckled and folded his arms over his chest. “So what can I do for you?”

  “Buck here seemed to be favoring his left front leg on the way into town and I thought you might be able to work on his shoe.”

  “Sure I can do that,” Tray agreed. “I figured you for a man who did that work himself.”

  Marston shrugged and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. “When I take a notion to I do. Today I’m not feeling the notion.”

  Tray laughed. “Well, I’m glad for that. If folks took a notion to start doing everything themselves I wouldn’t make near as much money.”

  “Alright then,” Marston hoisted his saddlebags from the back of the cart, unwilling to leave them for long. “I’ll be back in a while to pick him up.”

  ***

  Marston was waiting on the mercantile boardwalk when Langley emerged nearly twenty minutes later with a burlap sack tossed over his shoulder.

  “Where’s Buck and the cart?”

  “Bucks getting his hoof seen to,” Marston replied. “He should be just about done. Did you buy the whole store?”

  Langley laughed. “No, you didn’t leave me that much money.”

  “Well did you at least get what you wanted for your mama?”

  “Sure did,” Langley nodded enthusiastically. “This is gonna be the best Christmas we’ve had yet.”

  “I’m sure your mama will like the gift ya got her,” Marston assured him as he tossed his cigarette into the mud.

  “That’s not the only reason it’s gonna be better this year,” Langley argued. “What makes it even better is that you’re here now and me and mama aren’t alone.”

  Marston’s throat tightened. “Thanks kid,” he whispered, embarrassed by the hoarseness he could hear. “I’ve sure as hell never been the reason someone had a good Christmas before.”

  Langley smiled up at him and at that moment Marston realized that he would, without a moments hesitation, do anything for that boy. He would gladly buy up everything the mercantile had to offer, cook runny eggs or even take a bullet in the heart just to see that boy cared for.

  It was a shock to his system to realize that two people meant more to him than his own life. Rose and Langley had quickly becoming all that mattered in the world—they were his world. Their touches, their smiles, their acceptance and their warmth had quickly destroyed walls that Marston had been constructing for three decades.

  Marston put his hand on Langley’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “What do you say we get that flea-bitten nag and head back to the house? Your mama is probably starting to worry.”

  “More than likely she’s done got the floors swept and mopped and is hoping we take a bit longer so she can scrub the walls,” Langley countered.

  Marston chuckled. “Yeah, I’d say you’re right.”

  The two headed off for the blacksmith shop but were stopped by Doctor Brinkley calling for them as he rushed down the street. “What is it doc?” Marston questioned, meeting the older man on the muddy street.

  Doctor Brinkley handed him an envelope. “The bank sent you a wire back. I saw that you were still here so I wanted to make sure you got it before you left town.”

  “Thanks doc,” Marston replied, wondering what the bank would have sent him back so quickly. He tipped his head. “We’re gonna be on our way now.”

  Marston led Langley to the blacksmith and then stood against the outside wall as he opened the envelope. He immediately realized that the three hundred dollars he’d sent to them was inside. With a frown, Marston pulled out the enclosed letter.

  Marston, (you failed to provide us a last name so please excuse the informal address)

  We were surprised to receive your letter and the money for Rose Howell’s account. According to our records, her account has been paid in full for nearly four years. The banker you mentioned, Winston Meade, no longer works for our establishment and we hold no responsibility for his actions if he has been taking money from Mrs. Howell. We have refused the payment and advise you to contact the authorities regarding Winston Meade’s behavior.

  Sincerely,

  Millerton Bank and Trust

  Marston growled and shoved the letter back into his pocket. Authorities his ass. Winston Meade had been stealing money from Rose and Langley for over three years. He’d been taking the food out of their mouths and the clothes off their backs and threatening Rose while he did so. Marston would protect his newfound family and Winston Meade would pay for his lies and thievery—and Marston would be the one wh
o dealt out the punishment. The man was going to live to regret his actions. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t.

  ***

  “Mama’s gonna love that necklace you got her,” Langley said as the two rode through the woods toward the cabin. “She doesn’t have anything that pretty. I bet it’ll make her cry.”

  Marston grumbled as he shook his head. “I don’t want her to cry.”

  “They’ll be good tears,” Langley promised. “The kind that means she’s really really happy.”

  “What did you get her?” Marston asked.

  “Mama has always loved hummingbirds so I got her a little ceramic hummingbird that she can put on the mantle. We don’t have pretty things on our mantle. Mama sold all our pretty stuff to buy food.”

  Marston felt his chest ache for that woman and vowed once again that she would have everything she could possibly want for as long as he lived.

  “There was more than that in that sack of yours,” Marston noted. “What else did you get?”

  “Don’t worry about it!” Langley exclaimed, clutching the sack close to him.

  Marston raised a brow and snorted. “Well alright then. Apparently them damn mood swings run in the family.”

  Langley just smiled.

  Chapter Twenty

  “What took the two of you so long?” Rose asked as they pulled up to the house. “I was getting worried.”

  “We had business to take care of,” Langley replied, clutching his sack and disappearing quickly inside.

  “What kind of business?” Rose asked Marston, but he just shrugged and removed his saddlebags from the cart.

  “Man business,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to her brow as he stepped onto the porch. “You were supposed to be resting.”

  “I have been,” Rose promised. Marston let his gaze roam across her body. She had showered and her red hair showed evidence of that as it hung in damn curls down her back. She was wearing the blue checked dress with a lower neckline that gave him a good view of that mole on her collarbone. It was his favorite dress.

  “You look beautiful,” he whispered.

  She flushed red. “Did I look that terrible before?”

  Marston laughed. “I’m not gonna dignify that question with an answer.”

  Rose wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her body into his chest to hide her blush from him. “Did you send the money to the bank?”

  “Yep,” Marston replied quickly.

  Rose pulled away and studied him closely. “Something’s wrong,” she firmly stated.

  Marston’s brow rose. “What?”

  “I don’t know,” Rose admitted. “But something happened while you were gone—something to do with that money. What happened?”

  “What makes you think something happened?”

  “Don’t lie to me,” Rose snapped. “I can’t tell when I look at you that something is wrong.”

  “How can you tell?” Marston grumbled. He had always prided himself on his ability to hide emotions and lie well.

  Rose glared up at him and put her hands on her soft hips. “I can see it in your eyes, Marston, so you might as well tell me.”

  “You’re the first person to ever be able to read something I want to keep hidden,” Marston complained.

  Rose smiled. “That’s good. You’re not supposed to keep secrets from your woman. Now tell me.”

  Marston stooped low and kissed her ear, causing Rose’s legs to very nearly buckle. “My woman? I like the sound of that.”

  Rose squirmed out of his grasp. “Stop trying to change the subject, Marston.”

  He sighed and sat down in the rocking chair, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her down onto his lap. She shook her head. “You really are trusting this chair more than you should,” she warned as it creaked and moaned beneath them.

  “If it breaks I’ll catch you.”

  Rose feigned breathlessness. “My hero… now, what happened in town?”

  Marston’s smile quickly became a frown. “I sent your payment and a letter directly to the bank in Millerton and they sent it back. Apparently your account has been paid in full for nearly four years and Winston Meade has not worked for them for a while.”

  Rose couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Surely there must have been a mistake! “But I’ve been sending payments directly to Winston Meade! Not to mention the times that he’s come here demanding money and I’ve given him what little I had…”

  Marston nodded, anger clenching his jaw. “He’s been lying to you and stealing your money.. .not to mention the threats Langley told me about.”

  Rose gasped and her eyes grew wider. “Langley knows about those?”

  “He doesn’t understand completely, but he knows enough to know that Winston means to hurt you. He made me promise to keep you safe and that’s what I intend to do.”

  “Winston is due back any day,” Rose replied. “What are we going to do, Marston?”

  Marston shrugged. “We let him come. How much would you say you’ve given him over the years?”

  Rose tried to push back her fear and think hard. “Close to… close to three hundred dollars….” Rose’s fists clenched as she thought about the money she’d saved for Langley’s clothes, his food, his shoes and his books all going to that banker.

  She felt anger well up inside her. “I’ll go to town and send word to the marshal in Millerton. He’s the closest law and he’ll come handle things.”

  “I’ll take care of things,” Marston argued firmly. Marston was accustomed to dealing with his own problems and didn’t want the help of a lawman.

  “What exactly are you going to do?” Rose whispered.

  “Deal with it,” came Marston’s short reply.

  Rose’s stomach flopped. “Marston….”

  He kissed her head. “I’m just going to deal with it, Rose, so don’t worry.”

  Marston gently sat Rose on her feet before getting to his own feet as well. With a trembling hand, he reached in his pocket, pulled out the three hundred dollars the bank had refused and held it out to Rose.

  “What are you doing?” Rose asked. “That’s your money, Marston.”

  Marston shook his head and was more terrified than he could ever remember feeling before in his entire life. He’d made an impulse decision just now and he knew that he might end up regretting it until his dying day.

  “No it’s not, Rose. It never was,” he replied quietly.

  “Then who’s is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she stared up at him.

  Maston swallowed hard. “It’s yours.”

  “I don’t have three hundred dollars,” she assured him.

  Marston turned his gaze out toward the barn. He knew his next words could earn him Rose’s distrust and rejection and they were the hardest words he’d ever had to utter in his life. “I stole it from you and Langley. There was six hundred dollars in that bag from Langston and I kept half.”

  When silence followed his emotions, he slowly snuck a peek at Rose and found her smiling from ear to ear. “What the hell is the matter with you, woman? Why are you smiling? I just admitted that I stole money from you. Money that you needed! You should be furious with me.”

  The smile never left her face. “Marston I need to show you something.” Rose disappeared into the house and Marston, unsure if he was meant to follow or not, stood awkwardly upon the porch.

  Rose returned a few moments later with a piece of paper which she placed in Marston’s calloused hand. Marston frowned as he realized it was a letter. A letter from Langston. It was made out to Rose and it said right there in writing that he had been released from prison and was returning home with six hundred dollars.

  “When did you get this?” Marston whispered.

  “Shorty after you left in September,” Rose replied. She folded the letter gently and slipped it into her skirt pocket.

  “Rose.. I’m sorry…”

  Rose cut off his apology by pressing her fingers to his lips. Marsto
n’s eyes darkened at the contact and Rose trembled. “Don’t you see?” she asked. “This just proves how good a man you truly are. You could have kept all the money and not brought any of it to us, but you didn’t. You could have spent this three hundred and never told me about it, but you didn’t.”

  “Don’t make me out to be something I’m not, Rose,” he warned. “I’m no hero.”

  Rose just smiled and threw her arms around his neck. “I’ll see you however I choose to see you.” She pulled away slowly. “Now go get Buck put up and bring in some wood. I have some chicken cut up for soup but need to get the fire going.”

  Marston was grinning as he quickly went off to do her bidding. ‘If only the men could see you now. Proud as hell because that woman thinks you’re a good man and following her orders like a little puppy.’

  Marston rolled his broad shoulders. “Little?” he mumbled aloud.

  ‘Okay then. A really big puppy.’

  ***

  Marston was awake an hour before dawn the next morning. It was cold when he stepped out onto the porch and his breath froze in a thick fog around his head when he exhaled. A light frost coated the land and buildings and Marston knew that when the sun began to rise it would be a beautiful sight to see.

  Marston rolled out his shoulders and was stretching his aching back when a twig snapped and instantly his every sense was on high alert. His guns were inside, but Marston quickly pulled his knife from its sheath.

  Another twig snapped and Marston’s head snapped to the right to discover that the source of the sound was nothing but a few deer grazing at the edge of the woods. He let out his breath and holstered his knife.

  Venison would make a real nice addition to the smokehouse and Marston could use the hide to make a hat and gloves for Langley. Once he lined them with rabbit fur, Langley would have the warmest head and hands in the state.

  The deer disappeared into the trees and Marston walked back in the cabin. He went to Langley’s bedroom door and quietly pushed it open. “Hey kid?” he whispered.