For the Roses (3 page)

"Let me see those papers," Adam asked.

Douglas pulled the envelope out of his pocket and handed it to their boss. Adam let out a whistle when he saw all the money tucked inside. He found two papers and pulled them out. One was filled with numbers and scratches he couldn't make out, and the other sheet looked like a blank page torn from a book. There was only a little bit of handwriting on the top, giving the baby's date of birth and her weight. He read the words out loud so the others would know what he'd found.

"It weren't enough they threw her away. They even thrown out her papers," Douglas whispered.

"I didn't have papers when I was dumped at the orphanage," Travis said. "It's a good thing I already knew my name, isn't it, Cole?"

"I suppose so," Cole answered.

Travis shrugged off the matter as unimportant. "I got a suggestion to make now, so don't interrupt me until you hear me out. All right?"

He waited until everyone nodded before he continued. "I'm the only one of us who knows for certain I'm not wanted by the law, and nobody's looking to find me, so I say Mary Rose should carry my last name. Fact is, if we're gonna do it right, like Cole says we should, then everyone should take my last name. Brothers and sisters are all part of the same family, after all, and they all got to have the same last name. So I'm saying, from this minute on, we're all Claybornes. Agreed?"

"No one's going to believe I'm a Clayborne," Adam argued.

"Who cares what anyone else believes?" Cole asked. "We ain't asking for approval, just to be left alone. If you say you're a Clayborne, and we say you're a Clayborne, whose to say you ain't? Anyone who challenges you has to get through the rest of us first if he wants to make trouble. And remember," he added, "I got me a gun now. Soon enough I'll be able to handle any trouble that comes our way." Douglas and Travis nodded. Adam let out a sigh. Douglas put his hand out over the basket, his palm down. He looked at each of the other gang members.

"I say we run for Mama Rose and we become a family for our little Mary Rose. We're brothers," he whispered.

Travis put his hand on top of Douglas's. "Brothers," he vowed. Cole was next. "We run for Mary Rose and Mama Rose," he pledged. "We're brothers until we die."

Adam hesitated for what seemed an eternity to the other boys. And then his mind was finally made up. His hand covered Cole's. "Brothers," he vowed in a voice shaking with emotion. "For the Roses." July3, 1860

Dear Mama Rose,

I'm writing to you in care of Mistress Livonia, and I pray this letter finds the two of you in good health. I'm going to share with you all the wonderful adventures I've had heading West, but first I have something very important to tell you. It's about your new family. You have a namesake now, Mama. Her name is Mary Rose…

Love,

John Quincy Adam Clayborne

 
Chapter 1

Montana Valley, 1879

The baby was finally coming home.

Cole waited next to his wagon for the stagecoach to round the last bend in the road. He was so excited, he could barely stand still. The cloud of dust coming from above the hill indicated she was close. He couldn't wait to see her. He wondered if she'd changed much in the past months, then laughed out loud over the foolish notion. Mary Rose had been all grown up when she'd left for her last year of school. Other than acquiring a few more freckles on the bridge of her nose, or letting her hair grow a little longer, he couldn't imagine any significant changes.

Lord, he'd missed her. They all had. Life on the ranch kept them running from sunup until sundown, and it was only at dinner that they all ached to have her around trying to boss them into eating something new and different she had prepared for them. She was a fine cook when she didn't stray from the familiar, but none of them could abide the fancy French sauces she liked to pour over everything. The stagecoach was over an hour late, which meant that crusty old Clive Harrington was doing the driving. He would have had to catch up on all the gossip with Mary Rose before they started out. Clive would demand her full attention, and knowing what a soft heart his sister had, Cole knew she wouldn't rush him.

They were fast friends, but no one in Blue Belle could understand why. Clive Harrington was a cantankerous old buzzard who constantly scowled, snapped, and complained and was, in Cole's estimation, a thoroughly disagreeable son-of-a-bitch. He was also as ugly as sin. The walkways in town would clear at the first sight of him, unless Mary Rose was around. A magical transformation took place then. Clive went from ferocious to meek. Not only did he act as though he were everyone's best friend, he also wore a ridiculous, ain't-life-grand grin from morning until night. Harrington made a complete fool of himself doting on Mary Rose, and all because she doted on him. She really cared about the old coot. She took care of him when he needed caring, made certain he was included in their holiday dinners, and

personally mended all of his clothes for him. Harrington always took ill once a year, usually around roundup time, but sometimes a full month before. He'd appear on their doorstep with his hat in one hand and a dirty handkerchief in the other, asking for a bit of advice about how to cure his latest mysterious ailment. It was all a ruse, of course. Mary Rose would immediately park old Clive in the guest room and pamper him for the full week it always took before he felt fit again. Everyone in town called Harrington's week of infirmity his annual getaway, and from the way the old man was dabbing at the corners of his eyes and rubbing his nose with his handkerchief while he slowed the horses, Cole surmised he was already planning his next holiday.

The stagecoach had barely rocked to a stop when the door flew open and Mary Rose jumped to the ground.

"I'm finally home," she called out. She picked up her skirts and ran to her brother. Her bonnet flew off her head and landed in the dust behind her. She was laughing with sheer joy. Cole tried to maintain his somber expression because he didn't want Harrington spreading the rumor he'd gone soft. Cole liked having everyone in town fear him. His sister's laughter proved contagious, however, and Cole couldn't control his reaction. He smiled first, then burst into laughter. Appearances be damned. Mary Rose hadn't changed at all. She was still just as dramatic and uninhibited as always, and, heaven help him, she'd be the death of all the brothers, who constantly worried about the way she always wore her heart on her sleeve.

She threw herself into his arms. For such a little thing, she had the grip of a bear. Cole hugged her back, kissed her on the top of her head, and then suggested to her that she quit laughing like a crazy woman. She wasn't offended. She pulled away, put her hands on her hips, and gave her brother a thorough inspection.

"You're still as handsome as ever, Cole. Have you killed anyone while I was at school?"

"Of course not," he snapped. He folded his arms across his chest, leaned back against the wagon, and tried to frown at her.

"You look like you grew another inch or two. Your hair seems more blond too. When did you get that scar on your forehead? Did you get into a fight?"

Before he could answer her questions, she turned to Harrington. "Clive, did my brother shoot anyone while I was away?"

"Not that I recollect, Miss Mary," he called back.

"Any knife fights?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Clive answered.

Mary Rose seemed convinced. She smiled again. "I'm so happy to be home. I've made up my mind. I'm never leaving again. Adam isn't going to make me go anywhere, no matter how good it might be for my mind or my soul. I'm all refined now, and I've got the papers to prove it. Lord, it's warm for spring, isn't it? I love the heat and the dirt and the wind and the dust. Has Travis gotten into any fights in town? Never mind," she added in a rush. "You wouldn't tell me if he did anything wrong. Adam will though. He tells me

everything. He wrote more than you did, by the way. Is the new barn finished? I got a letter from Mama Rose just the day before school ended. The mail arrived right on time too. Isn't that something? We live in such modern times. What about…"

Cole was having trouble keeping up with his sister. She was talking as fast as a politician. "Slow down," he interrupted. "I can only answer one question at a time. Catch your breath while I help Harrington unload your baggage."

A few minutes later, her trunk, boxes, and three valises were packed in the back of the wagon. Mary Rose climbed up on the flatbed and started sorting through her things. Cole told her to wait until they got home to find what she was looking for. She ignored his suggestion. She closed one box and turned to the second one.

Harrington stood next to the wagon, smiling at her. "I sure missed you, Miss Mary," he whispered. He blushed like a schoolboy and gave Cole a quick look to make sure he wasn't going to laugh at him. Cole pretended he hadn't heard the confession. He turned away before he rolled his eyes heavenward. His sister was obviously pleased by Harrington's admission. "I missed you too, Clive. Did you get my letters?"

"I surely did," he replied. "I read them more than once too." Mary Rose smiled at her friend. "I'm happy to hear it. I didn't forget your birthday. Don't leave just yet. I have something for you." She was diligently sorting through her trunk and finally found the box she had been searching for. She handed it to Clive. "This is for you. Promise me you won't open it until you get home."

"You got me a present?" He looked flabbergasted.

She smiled. "Two presents," she corrected. "There's another surprise tucked inside the first."

"What is it?" Clive asked. He sounded like a little boy on Christmas morning. Mary Rose took hold of his hand and climbed down out of the wagon. "It's a surprise," she answered.

"That's why I wrapped it in a box with such pretty paper. Thank you for the ride," she added with a curtsy. "It was very lovely."

"You ain't mad because I wouldn't let you ride up on the perch with me?"

"No, I'm not angry," she assured him.

Harrington turned to Cole to explain. "She begged me to let her sit up there with me, but I didn't think it would be fitting for such a dignified young lady to be riding shotgun." Cole nodded. "We need to get going, Mary Rose."

He didn't wait for her agreement but turned and got up on the seat of the wagon. He took the reins in his hands and asked his sister to quit dawdling.

She had to chase after her forgotten bonnet first. Clive was clutching his present with both hands while

he slowly walked back to his coach. He acted as if he were carrying a priceless treasure. They were finally on their way home. Cole answered her questions while she removed most of the evidence proving she was a refined lady. She took off her white gloves first, then pulled out the pins holding her prim bun together at the back of her neck. She wasn't satisfied until the thick, blond mass floated down her back.

She let out a sigh of pleasure while she threaded her fingers through her curls.

"I'm so sick of being a lady," she said. "Honest to heaven, it's such a strain." Cole laughed. Mary Rose knew she wouldn't get any sympathy from him.

"You wouldn't laugh if you had to wear a corset. It binds a body up as tight as a coil. It isn't natural."

"Did they make you wear one of those things at school?" Cole was horrified by the idea.

"Yes," she answered. "I didn't though. No one could tell, after all. I never got dressed in public."

"I hope to God not."

He had to slow the horses when they started the steep climb up the first ridge. Mary Rose turned around so she could watch to make sure her trunk didn't fall off the back of the wagon. Once they'd reached the crest, she turned around again. She took off her navy blue jacket, draped it over the back of the bench, and started unbuttoning the cuffs of her starched white blouse. The collar was chafing her neck. She unbuttoned the top three buttons.

"Something odd happened at school. I didn't know what to make of it."

"Make of what?" he asked.

"A new classmate arrived in January. She was from Chicago. Her parents came with her to help her get settled."

"And?"

Mary Rose shrugged. "It's probably nothing."

"Tell me anyway. I can hear the worry in your voice."

"I am not worrying," she said. "It was just so peculiar. The girl's mother was born and raised in England. She thought she knew me."

"She can't know you," he said. "You've never been to England. Could you have met her someplace else?"

Mary Rose shook her head. "I'm sure I would have remembered."

"Tell me what happened."

"I was walking across the commons. I smiled at the new arrivals, just to be polite and make them feel welcome, and all of a sudden, the girl's mother lets out a scream loud enough to frighten the stone gargoyles on top of Emmet Building. She scared me too."

"Why's that?" he asked.

"She was pointing at me all the while she was screaming," Mary Rose explained. "I became quite embarrassed."

"Then what happened?"

"She clutched her chest with both hands and looked like she was going to keel over."

"All right, Mary Rose. What'd you do?" He was immediately suspicious his sister wasn't telling him everything. She had a habit of getting into mischief, and she was always astonished by the trouble that would inevitably follow.

"I didn't do anything wrong," she cried out. "I was acting like a perfect lady. Why would you jump to the conclusion I was responsible for the poor woman's condition?" she asked, sounding wounded.

"Because you usually are responsible," he reminded her. "Were you carrying your gun at the time?"

"Of course not," she replied. "I wasn't running or doing anything the least improper. I do know how to behave like a lady when I have to, Cole."

"Then what was the matter with the woman?"

"When she finally calmed down, she told me she thought I was a woman she used to know. She called her Lady Agatha Something-or-other. She said I was the spitting image of the woman."

"That isn't peculiar," he decided. "Lots of women have blond hair and blue eyes. It's not unusual."

"Are you saying I'm plain?"

He couldn't resist. "Yeah, I guess I am."

It was a lie, of course. Mary Rose was the complete opposite of plain. She was really very beautiful, or so he'd been told over and over again by every eligible man in town. He didn't see his sister that way. She was sweet and good-hearted most of the time, and a little wildcat the rest of the time. She used to be a brat, but now that she was all grown up, he guessed she wasn't such a pain after all.

"Adam assures me I'm pretty," she argued. She shoved her brother with her shoulder. "He always tells the truth. Besides, you know very well it's what's inside a woman's heart that really matters. Mama Rose thinks I'm a beautiful daughter, and she's never even seen me."

"You about finished being vain, Mary Rose?"

She laughed. "Yes."

"I wouldn't worry about the coincidence of looking like someone else."

"But that wasn't the end of it," she explained. "About a month later, I was called into the superior's office. There was an elderly man waiting for me. The headmistress was there too. She had my file on her desk."

"How'd you know it was your file?"

"Because it's the thickest one at the school," she answered. "And the cover's torn." She looked at her brother and immediately knew what he was thinking. "You can quit smiling that know-it-all smile of yours, Cole. I will admit that my first year at school didn't go well. I had a little trouble adjusting. I realize now I was simply homesick and was trying to get thrown out so you'd have to come and get me. However," she hastily added, "I have had a perfect record ever since, and that should count for something."

"Tell me about the man waiting in the office," he said.

"He was a lawyer," she said. "He asked me all sorts of questions about our family. He wanted to know how long we'd lived in Montana and why our mother didn't live with us. He wanted me to describe to him what my brothers looked like too. I wouldn't answer any of his questions. I didn't think it was any of his business. He was a complete stranger, after all. I didn't like him at all." Cole didn't like him either. "Did he explain why he was asking all these questions?"

"He told me there was a large inheritance at issue. I think he went away convinced I wasn't a long-lost relative. I've made you worry, haven't I?"

"A little," he admitted. "I don't like the idea of anyone asking about us." She tried to lighten his mood. "It wasn't all bad," she said. "I hadn't studied for my English exam because Eleanor kept me up half the night complaining about some latest slight. Since I was in the office, I got to wait until the following day to take the test."

"I thought you weren't going to put up with Eleanor again."

"I swear to you I wasn't," Mary Rose replied. "No one else would take her for a roommate though, and the mistress practically got down on her hands and knees begging me to take Eleanor in. Poor Eleanor. She has a good heart, honest she does, but she keeps it hidden most of the time. She's still a trial of endurance."