Deborah Camp
Authors: My Wild Rose
The Dangerous Hearts Series
Fallen Angel
Fire Lily
Master of Moonspell
Right Behind the Rain
Riptide
The Daring Hearts Series
Black-eyed Susan
Blazing Embers
Cheyenne’s Shadow
My Wild Rose
Primrose
The Love and Adventure Series
After Dark
For Love or Money
In a Pirate’s Arms
Just Another Pretty Face
Vein of Gold
The Love and Laughter Series
A Newsworthy Affair
Hook, Line, and Sinker
Love Letters
The Butler Did It
Wrangler’s Lady
The Love Everlasting Series
A Dream to Share
Midnight Eyes
Strange Bedfellows
They Said it Wouldn’t Last
Winter Flame
The Passionate Hearts Series
Destiny’s Daughter
Oklahoma Man
Taming the Wild Man
The Second Mr. Sullivan
Weathering the Storm
The Tender Hearts Series
Devil’s Bargain
Sweet Passion’s Song
This Tender Truce
To Have, To Hold
Tomorrow’s Bride
The Wild Hearts Series
A Tough Man’s Woman
Lady Legend
Lonewolf’s Woman
Too Tough ToTame
Tough Talk, Tender Kisses
MY
W
ILD
R
OSE
D
EBORAH
C
AMP
Copyright © Deborah Camp, 1992
All Rights Reserved
First published by Avon Books
Carry Nation did not live in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, until later in her life. However, to keep within my publisher’s requirements, I juggled the past and had Mrs. Nation live briefly in Arkansas before the turn of the century. She did establish and support several Homes for Drunkards’ Wives, one of which was in Eureka Springs. A couple of these have survived and are tourist attractions. The one in Eureka Springs is called Hatchet Hall. Today such establishments are under the Domestic Violence Intervention Services umbrella and are commonly called Battered Wives’ Safe Houses. It’s a sad comment on our society that these residences for women and children are still needed in nearly every city in America.
This book is dedicated to the women and children living in Safe Houses across America, and to the memory of Carry Nation.
Oh! how the heart will break almost for a loving word! I believe the great want of the world is love
.
—C
ARRY
A. N
ATION
N
ary a soul stirred on the streets of Eureka Springs on that May night in 1895. As darkness moved toward dawn, Regina Augusta Rose slapped the reins against Gardenia’s spine and the white mare responded with a trot that set the harness to jingling and awoke every squeak in the decrepit buggy. Beside Regina a black, grizzled man sobbed and wrung his gray-knuckled hands.
Regina sighed with exhaustion. “Please stop crying, Jebidiah. It’s not helping anything.”
“Yes’m, I know, but it’s a misery, it is. Just thinkin’ of Miz Nation in that dirty old jail makes m-me w-want to c-cry my eyes out!”
“Well, quit thinking about that.” Regina shifted the reins to one hand and placed her arm around the old man’s bony shoulders. “We’re going to get her out of that awful place.”
“How we gonna do that, Miz Rose?” he asked, turning his wet face to her. “Don’t it take m-money to g-get somebody outta jail?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had to do this before.” She knitted her brows, suddenly worried that Carry Nation, her mentor, her landlady, and the person she admired most in the world, might have to remain behind bars until morning if money, indeed,
were required. Regina had only a dollar or two at her disposal.
“When Dorrie Festerman come around to tell me ’bout Miz Nation bein’ arrested, I ’bout fell out right there.”
Regina frowned. “How did Dorrie know about it? She’s not working in the saloon, is she?”
“No, Miz Rose. Dorrie’s working for the Reverend Hampf and his wife.”
“That figures,” Regina said with scorn. “John and Harriet Hampf are certainly not supporters of Mrs. Nation. They probably danced a jig when they heard about her arrest. I wonder how
they
found out about it so quickly.”
“It’s revival week at their church. They heard all the ruckus from the saloon. That’s what Dorrie told me.” Jebidiah shuddered with another sob. “Oh, this be a misery.”
“Don’t fret so. I’m sure the sheriff is simply waiting for us to come collect Mrs. Nation.”
“I hope you’re right, Miz Rose. I surely do. But in my experience, I never heard of nobody gettin’ nothin’ done without payin’ for it.”
A man on horseback passed and dipped his head in silent greeting. The small gesture made him sway, and Regina thought he might topple off his horse, but then he righted himself. As he passed, Regina caught the unmistakable stench of whiskey.
It seemed odd to Regina for the streets to be so empty. Eureka Springs had become a mecca to people with ailments or money. The mineral springs had spawned spas and the spas attracted both the afflicted and the idle rich. Add the handful of silver mines in the area and Eureka Springs could be aptly called a boom town.
Hotels and saloons sprang up like mushrooms on a misty morning. Twice a day trains brought
visitors by the carloads. The town had become a resort, a magnet for people looking for a relaxing vacation. But Regina saw the underside of the laughter and the gaiety. Eureka Springs had also attracted its share of problems, such as drunks, outlaws, and charlatans. Unfortunately, the townspeople weren’t ready to admit to any flaws. By and large, they resented anyone who even hinted there was trouble in paradise, and Mrs. Nation did more than hint! Her Home for Drunkards’ Wives was an obvious blemish on the pretty face Eureka Springs showed to the world—a blemish some folks in town wanted removed at whatever cost.
Lantern lights shone from the jailhouse. Regina stopped the buggy and left Jebidiah with Gardenia while she went inside. It was eerily quiet and the sky was faintly blue in the pre-dawn. It had been less than an hour since Jebidiah had awakened her to announce that Carry Nation had been arrested for smashing up Tom Wilson’s saloon. Dazed, she’d dressed and stumbled into the night, barely awake. But the cool air had swept aside the vestiges of sleep and as she entered the sheriff’s office she felt ready to do battle.
Boyd Stewart let fly the ace of spades. The card sailed toward the hat in the center of his desk, missed, and fluttered against Regina Rose’s bodice before sinking to the floor.
“Miss Rose!” The sheriff sprang to his feet. “What the hell … that is, what are you doing out at this time of night, ma’am?” His gaze drifted to the card at her feet, then bounced back up to her face, which she knew had reddened.
“That should be obvious, Sheriff Stu,” she said, wishing her voice wasn’t so small and breathy, but powerful like Mrs. Nation’s. “I’ve come for Mrs. Nation. Jebidiah says you have her in custody.”
“That’s right, ma’am.” He propped his hands at
his gun belt and shook his head sadly. “Mrs. Nation overstepped her bounds this evening. I had no choice but to arrest her. In fact, I do believe that’s exactly what she wanted.”
Regina shook her head. “I doubt that, Sheriff Stu. Mrs. Nation simply wants the whiskey palaces in town closed, once and for all. That’s what any right-thinking person wants.” She held his gaze for a moment of chastisement. “If you’ll be so kind, I’d like to take Mrs. Nation home now.”
He shrugged. “Her bail won’t be set ’til tomorrow, Miss Rose.”
“I promise to bring her back for that.”
A pained expression settled on his freckled face. “Now, ma’am, that’s not ’xactly how the law works. You can’t take her anyplace until the judge sets her bail.”
“But you can’t allow her to remain in jail overnight,” Regina pleaded, appalled at the idea. “It’s not a fit place for a lady.”
“Mrs. Nation should have thought about that before she took up her hatchet and made firewood out of the Full Bucket’s bar. Tom Wilson’s hopping mad over it. He pressed charges and hired Theodore Dane to represent his interests. Tom’s not going to lie down for this, Miss Rose. I do believe there will be a trial.”
“Theodore Dane …?” she repeated, barely comprehending. The world shifted and slipped beneath her. “Isn’t he one of those bigwig lawyers from Kansas?”
“Yes, ma’am. Him and his cousin opened up shop here last month.”
A tremor of doom passed through her. Everything she’d heard about Carmichael and Dane indicated they were unbeatable in a courtroom. Especially Dane, the older and more experienced
of the two. Perhaps they could all reach an agreement without having to face a judge or jury.
“Sheriff, may I see Mrs. Nation for a few minutes, please?”
“You can do that tomorrow between one and three. The bail hearing is set for ten in the judge’s office on Basin Street.”
“Why won’t you allow me to see Mrs. Nation now?”
He fixed an indulgent smile on his thin lips. “Because I’m here to uphold law
and order
. The rules are that visiting hours are one to three. Or you can see Mrs. Nation during the hearing. You’d best bring along her attorney. Morton Potter, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Her voice dropped with her spirits. Pitting Morton Potter against the likes of Theodore Dane was like throwing a dove into a cockfight.
“Mrs. Nation said she wanted him notified. Will you do that, or do you want me to—”
“I’ll do it.” She glanced beseechingly at the barred door. “Please, won’t you let me see her? Just for a minute.”
“Now, Miss Rose, I can’t go breaking my own rules, can I?” He moved around the desk and touched his fingertips against her elbow in a less than subtle attempt to dislodge her from his office. “You go on home and get some rest. You fetch Mr. Potter for the hearing and we’ll see what happens then.”
“She’ll be released from jail, won’t she?”
“I don’t make those decisions. It’s all up to Judge Langarten. Are you going to the Spring Cotillion?”
Regina twisted around to face the sheriff. “I … I don’t know. I haven’t given it any thought.”
“Well, I was thinking … if you don’t have an escort then we might … that is, I’d be happy to
take you, Miss Rose.” His smile was all nerves. “Regina?”
She looked down at her shoes. “Sheriff Stu, I can only think of Mrs. Nation and this … this unfortunate business. I don’t understand why she’s been arrested. Why is Mr. Wilson doing this? Do you think he’s being encouraged by someone like Mr. Dane or maybe Reverend Hampf?”
“Now, now, Miss Rose, don’t go looking to place the blame on innocents. Mrs. Nation had no right going into that saloon and busting it up so. She had the men in there scared spitless, waving that hatchet like she was a crazed Injun. It’s a wonder she didn’t get herself hurt … or worse.”
