Coming Up Roses (42 page)

Rose had liked Mrs. Hereford the moment she
met her, because the woman was down to earth and enthusiastic and
didn’t put on airs, as so many wealthy women did. She and Rose had
hit it right off, in fact. Rose had even found herself confessing a
little bit about her current heartache, although she’d kept the
salacious details to herself.

“
You’re better off, Rose,” Mrs.
Hereford had told her in her downright, no-nonsense manner. “Most
men are asses at best and criminals at worst. Just look at my late
unlamented husband, if you doubt it.”

Rose had laughed, although she’d also
entertained the unspoken thought that at least the late Mr.
Hereford had left his wife a good deal of money. Anything, from
heartache to dinner, was easier to live with if one had a lot of
money. Rose wasn’t so naive that she’d failed to learn that lesson
in her twenty-two years.

With a heartfelt sigh and another little
lecture to buck up, she slipped her moccasins on and headed out to
the stable to fetch Fairy. Tonight would be the first time she’d
performed since her injury. She wondered if H.L. would be in the
audience, then mentally slapped herself for it. She thought glumly
that hers was going to be a long recovery.

# # #

Her performance went flawlessly, however.
Rose was pleased since she hadn’t had so much time off from trick
riding since she’d joined the Wild West. She didn’t see H.L. in the
audience, even though she scanned the first few rows as she took
her bow. Her heart hurt as she rode out of the arena to thunderous
applause. No matter how often she reminded herself that she was
better off without a faithless newspaper reporter in her life, she
still felt horrid.

She continued to feel horrid until the
following day, when she met her mother and her sisters at the
Chicago train station. Their reunion was joyous. Rose was happy to
see that her mother didn’t look nearly as haggard as she had the
last time Rose had seen her. It was perfectly astonishing how a
sufficient amount of cold, hard cash, even in so rustic a place as
Deadwood, Kansas, could improve the quality of a person’s life.

Lizzy and Charlotte were all grown up now.
Both of her sisters were taller than Rose, and it amused Rose that
when they saw each other for the first time in years, both of them
treated her with a degree of awed respect. Or maybe it wasn’t
amusing. Rose was now a star in a wild west show, but when she’d
lived with them, she’d fed them. It seemed to her that if people
had their priorities straight, her sisters should have been in awe
of her then instead of now.

Fame was a funny thing, she decided. After
lots of hugs and kisses, and after Rose had seen them to a fancy
hotel which had both sisters and her mother goggle-eyed with
wonder, she took them on a brief tour of the Columbian Exposition,
including popcorn, hamburgers, carbonated soda, and the Ferris
Wheel.

She couldn’t stay with them all night,
however. “I have to get ready for my show. I want to introduce you
to the colonel afterwards.”

“
I remember the man,” Mrs. Gilhooley
said. This time, she seemed worshipful. Rose didn’t begrudge her
that. Rose fairly worshiped the colonel herself.

The show went well. Rose pulled out all the
stops in order to give her family a brilliant performance. As she
took her last bow to the cheers and applause of her audience, she
waved to them. Then she could have smacked herself when she scanned
the crowd for H.L. May.

Fudge
.

# # #

It took H.L. forever to talk Annie Oakley
around to his point of view. He’d almost given up when she began to
weaken. Taking heart, he renewed his pleas with new vigor, finally
wearing her down, as she put it, to a nub.

H.L. was sorry he’d harassed her so badly,
but his life lay in the balance, and he guessed his life was worth
a little harassment. He wasn’t sure Annie agreed, but she said
she’d help him, so he didn’t much care.

Next he tackled Rose’s mother and sisters.
They weren’t nearly so hard to convince as Annie had been. Mrs.
Gilhooley, in fact, was moved to tears by H.L.’s plight. Never one
to eschew the use of emotional blackmail when it served his
purposes, H.L. played up his heartache to the hilt. Rose’s sisters
were inclined to be romantic, so they were eager to assist him.

Mrs. Hereford, whom H.L. had met before,
thought he was a sly dog and told him so, but she, too, agreed to
help.

Little Elk had proved the most difficult of
all, primarily because he considered that his loyalty lay with
Rose. It took H.L. hours to convince him that by helping H.L.,
Little Elk would be proving his loyalty to Rose. By the time the
Sioux finally consented to help him, H.L. was exhausted. He wasn’t
through, however.

He tackled Buffalo Bill Cody last of all,
sensing that the colonel’s assistance would be invaluable. Although
H.L. had always found Cody affable and friendly, he approached the
great man with trepidation. If Buffalo Bill let him down, H.L.
despaired of ever achieving his mission.

Oddly enough, Cody proved the least
recalcitrant of the bunch. He laughed heartily, clapped H.L. on the
back, and said he thought it was a splendid idea and he’d be more
than happy to help H.L. perpetrate his scheme. He even helped H.L.
plot out the most strategic plan so as to prevent injury to Rose,
should she be so shocked, she lost her concentration.

Therefore, H.L. carefully coached his
collaborators to spring the trap during Rose’s very last race
around the arena, when she was holding tight to Fairy’s mane—or
whatever she clung to during that headlong dash.

If this didn’t work, he guessed he’d just
have to go out to the pier, jump off, and drown himself.

# # #

Rose was pleased that her family so enjoyed
Buffalo Bill’s Wild West that they wanted to see it again. She was
puzzled, however, when she saw them rising from their grandstand
seats right before she turned a somersault and landed on Fairy’s
back. Perhaps one of the girls felt ill. Rose hoped not. If she
was, she hoped it was nothing more than indigestion caused by
devouring so many of the treats available at the Exposition.

She knew better than to think about her
sisters during her act, though. If she lost her train of thought,
she was done for. Therefore, she cleared her mind of extraneous
worries and carried on.

It was while she was standing on her hands on
Fairy’s back and trotting around the arena that she first suspected
something was going on. Upside down though she was, she realized
that several people had walked into the arena and were now standing
on the sidelines holding signs. Even on her head, Rose could
discern her name on one of them.

What was going on here?

Lowering herself to Fairy’s back, she nudged
the little mare into her last, thrilling gallop around the arena.
As was her custom, Rose leaned way over so that she created as
little wind resistance as possible, and with her feathers streaming
out behind her, she took off like the wind.

She blinked when she saw a huge sign painted
on white board in bright red letters that had been sprinkled with
glitter: ROSE GILHOOLEY.

Whatever did this mean?

A second later, she read another sign. I LOVE
YOU.

Good heavens.

I’M SORRY popped up next in her line of
sight.

FOR BEING SUCH AN ASS.

H.L. This had to be H.L.’s doing. No one else
she knew would use such inelegant language in a public arena.

MARRY ME, ROSE.

Good God. Rose felt lightheaded for only a
second. She steadied herself before she could tumble off her
horse.

PLEASE SAY YES.

Rose was totally rattled by the time she drew
Fairy up in the center of the ring. Because she didn’t know what
else to do, she made her usual bows. The crowd, she noticed, was
practically hysterical with joy and laughter. Small wonder, she
thought sourly. They probably didn’t get to witness such outlandish
marriage proposals on a regular basis.

Neither did Rose, and she didn’t know what to
make of it. It was no use trying to pretend everything was
proceeding normally, because the crowd had started chanting.

“
Marry him! Marry him!”

Fiddlesticks. Rose wasn’t used to
improvisation. She didn’t know how to react. When a thunderous
cheer went up, she breathed more easily, knowing that meant the
advent of the colonel. Her relief when she turned on her horse’s
bare back to witness his arrival turned into pure shock when she
beheld, not Colonel Cody, but H.L. May trotting out into the arena.
His form on horseback, she couldn’t help but notice, was
abysmal.

He was also holding up a last sign: PLEASE
MARRY ME, ROSE. I LOVE YOU. H.L.

The crowd roared with delight.

# # #

“
That was a dirty, underhanded trick,
H.L. May.”

Rose lay, naked, on the bed in H.L.’s
apartment. He lay panting beside her, so happy he was surprised his
body didn’t float up off the bed and bounce against the ceiling.
“Maybe, but it worked, didn’t it?”

She smacked him lightly on his washboard
belly. “I thought you didn’t believe in marriage.”

“
I thought so, too,” he admitted. “I
was wrong.”

“
And to involve my family . . . Well, I
just don’t know about you, H.L.”

“
You’re going to have years to find out
all about me, Rose. I love you too much to risk losing you
again.”

“
Good.”

“
And think about children, Rose!” H.L.
couldn’t recall exactly when he’d become enthusiastic about having
children, but now he could hardly wait. “I can see them now.
They’ll be so smart and beautiful. We’re going to have the best,
brightest, most wonderful children in the whole world.”

Rose turned over, threw her arms around his
naked body and planted a kiss on his lips. He responded with
enthusiasm, and it wasn’t very long before the embrace turned
passionate.

“
I love you more than life itself,
Roes,” H.L. whispered as he prepared to plunge his hard shaft into
her welcoming passage. “I was such an ass.”

“
Yes,” she agreed happily. “You
certainly were.”

H.L. hadn’t known lovemaking could be so
joyful. He was very happy to have found it out.

# # #

The marriage of Miss Rose Ellen Gilhooley to
Mr. H.L. May was one of the highlights of the year for the citizens
of the great city of Chicago. Colonel William F., “Buffalo Bill”,
Cody gave the bride away, and her weeping siblings were her
attendants. Mrs. Gilhooley watched from the bleachers, dabbing her
eyes with an embroidered handkerchief. Rose’s brother Freddie and
his wife Eleanor had been rushed from Deadwood, Kansas, to Chicago
in record time so that they could attend the nuptials. H.L.’s
parents rode the train in from Missouri, as well.

Rose had never been happier in her life.

Neither had H.L.

And the crowd went wild.