For the Roses Read online

  “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.”

  Cole smiled. Eleanor had been the one wrinkle in his sister’s otherwise perfect life. Mary Rose was the only student at school who would suffer the young woman’s presence. The brothers loved hearing Eleanor stories. They found the woman’s antics hysterically funny, and when any of them needed a good laugh, an Eleanor story had to be dredged up.

  “Was she as ornery as ever?” he asked, hoping his sister had a new story to tell.

  “She was,” Mary Rose admitted. “I used to feel guilty telling all of you about her, but then Travis convinced me that since no harm was done and she’d never find out, it was all right. She really can be outrageous. Do you know she left school a full week before everyone else? She didn’t even say good-bye. Something was wrong with her father, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. She cried herself to sleep five nights in a row, then she left. I wish she’d confided in me. I would have helped if I could. Her father wasn’t ill. I asked the headmistress after Eleanor took off. She wouldn’t tell me anything, but she puckered her lips, and she only does that when she is really disgusted about something. Eleanor’s father was going to donate a large sum of money so the mistress could build another dormitory. She told me it was all off now. Do you know what she said?”

  “No, what?”

  “She said she’d been duped. What do you suppose she meant by that?”

  “Could be anything.”

  “Just the night before Eleanor left, I told her that if she ever needed me, all she had to do was come to Rosehill.”

  “Why’d you go and tell her that?” Cole asked.

  “She was being pitiful, crying like a baby,” Mary Rose explained. “I wouldn’t worry about her showing up at the ranch though. It’s too uncivilized out here for her. She’s very sophisticated. But she hurt my feelings when she didn’t say good-bye. I was her only friend, after all. I wasn’t a very good friend though, was I?”

  “Why do you think you weren’t?”

  “You know why,” she replied. “I tell stories about her and that isn’t at all nice. Friends shouldn’t talk about each other.”

  “You only told us about incidents that really happened, and you defended her to everyone at school. You never talked about her there, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t see the harm. You’ve never criticized her, not even to us.”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “You also made sure she was in
vited to all the parties. Because of you, she was never left out.”

  “How did you know I did that?”

  “I know you. You’re always looking out for the misfits.”

  “Eleanor is not a misfit.”

  “See? You’re already defending her again.”

  She smiled. “After I’ve talked matters over with you I always feel better. Do you really believe the lawyer will quit asking about us?”

  “Yes, I do,” he answered.

  She let out a sigh. “I missed you. Cole.”

  “I missed you too, brat.”

  She nudged him with her shoulder again. The talk turned to the ranch. While she’d been away at school, the brothers had purchased another section of land. Travis was in Hammond getting the supplies they needed to fence in a portion of the vast expanse so the horses would have enough grazing space to see them through the winter.

  Cole and Mary Rose reached Rosehill a few minutes later. When she was just eight years old, she had named their home. She’d found what she believed were wild roses growing out on the hillside, declared it was a message sent to them from God telling them they were never supposed to leave, and all because her name was Mary Rose and so was her mama’s. Adam didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm. For that reason, he didn’t tell her the flowers were pink fireweed, not roses. He also felt that naming their ranch might give his sister an added bit of security. The name stuck, and within a year, even the residents of Blue Belle were referring to Clayborne homestead by the fanciful name.

  Rosehill sat in the very middle of a valley deep in the Montana Territory. The land was flat around the ranch for nearly a quarter of a mile in every direction. Cole had insisted on building their home in the very center of the flat expanse so he would be able to see anyone trespassing on their land. He didn’t like surprises: none of the brothers did, and as soon as the two-story house was finished, he built a lookout above the attic so they would always be able to see anyone trying to sneak up on them.

  Majestic, snowcapped mountains provided the backdrop on the north and west sides of the meadow. The east side of the homestead was made up of smaller mountains and hills, which were useless land for ranchers because of their need for rich grazing pasture. Trappers worked the eastern slopes, however, as beaver and bear and timber wolf were still quite plentiful. Occasionally a worn, weary trapper would stop by the house for food and friendly conversation. Adam never turned a hungry man away, and if their guest was in need of a bed for the night, he’d put him in the bunkhouse.

  There was only one easy way into the ranch, and that was from the main road that led over the hill from the town of Blue Belle. Outsiders were pretty worn out by the time they reached even the riverboat stop though. If they used wagons to haul their possessions, it usually took them a good day and a half more to reach Blue Belle. Most didn’t bother to go farther than Perry or Hammond; only rugged, determined souls, or men on the run, ever continued on. While there were occasional whispers of gold hidden in the mountains to the north, none had actually been found, and that was the only reason the land had stayed uncluttered. Decent, law-abiding families, hoping to homestead free land, crossed the plains in prairie schooners or took their chances on any one of the multitude of riverboats navigating the Missouri River. By the time most of these families got to a large town, they were happy to stay there. It was somewhat civilized in the larger towns, which of course was a powerful lure to the eastern, church-going families. Honest folks cried out for law and order. Vigilante groups heard the call and soon cleaned out all the riffraff hanging around the larger towns, including Hammond.

  In the beginning, the vigilantes were a solution, but later they became an even more threatening problem, for some of the men got into the nasty habit of hanging just about anyone they didn’t like. Justice was swift and often unserved; hearsay was all the evidence needed to have a man dragged out of his house and hanged from the nearest tree limb. Even wearing a badge gave one no protection from a vigilante group.

  The real misfits and gunfighters looking for easy money, who were quick and cunning enough to escape lynching, left the larger towns like Hammond and settled in and around Blue Belle.

  For that reason, the town had a well-earned seedy reputation. Still, there were a few good families living in Blue Belle. Adam said it was only because they had got settled in before they realized their mistake.

  Mary Rose was never allowed to go into Blue Belle alone. Since Adam never, ever left the ranch, it was up to Travis or Douglas or Cole to escort her on her errands. The brothers all took turns, and if it wasn’t convenient for any of them to leave their chores, Mary Rose stayed home.

  Cole slowed the horses when they reached the crest of the hill that separated the main road into town from the Clayborne estate. Mary Rose would ask him to stop the minute they reached the last curve that led down into their valley below.

  She was as predictable as ever. “Please stop for a minute. I’ve been away such a long time.”

  He dutifully stopped the horses and then patiently waited for her next question. It would take her a minute or two. She had to get all emotional first, then her eyes would fill up with tears.

  “Do you feel it? Right now, do you feel it the way I do?”

  He smiled. “You ask me that same question every time I bring you home. Yes, I feel it.”

  He reached for his handkerchief and handed it to her. He’d learned a long time ago to carry one just for her. Once, when she was still a little girl, she’d used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe her nose. He wasn’t about to ever let that happen again.

  They had a panoramic view of their ranch and the mountains beyond. No matter how she remembered it, every time she came home, the first sight of such beauty would fairly overwhelm her. Adam told her it was because she gloried in God’s creation and was humbled by it. She wasn’t so certain about that, but the vibration of life coming from the land did stir her as nothing else could. She wanted her brothers to feel it too, this link between God and nature, and Cole would admit, but only to her, that yes, he did feel the pulse of life beating all around them. The land was never quite the same from glance to glance, yet always enduring.

  “She’s as alive and beautiful as ever, Mary Rose.”

  “Why is it you and Adam both call Montana a woman?”

  “Because she acts like one,” Cole answered. He didn’t blush or feel embarrassed talking such foolishness, because he knew his sister understood. “She’s fickle and vain and won’t ever be tamed by any man. She’s a woman all right, and the only one I’ll ever love.”

  “You love me.”

  “You’re not a woman, Mary Rose. You’re my sister.”

  She laughed. The sound echoed through the pine trees. Cole picked up the reins and started the horses down the gentle slope. They had lingered long enough.

  “If she’s a woman, she’s taken us into her embrace. I wonder if my roses are beginning to wake up yet.”

  “You ought to know by now the flowers you found aren’t roses. They’re pink fireweed.”

  “I know what they are,” she replied. “But they’re like roses.”

  “No, they aren’t.”

  They were already bickering. Mary Rose sighed with contentment. She kept her attention focused on her home. Lord, she was happy to see her ranch again. The clapboard house was rather unimposing, she supposed, but it was still beautiful to her. The porch, or veranda, as Adam liked to call it, ran the length of the house on three sides. In the summer they would sit outside every evening and listen to the music of the night.

  She didn’t see her eldest brother working outside. “I’ll bet Adam is working on his books.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “It’s too nice a day to be cooped up inside unless there was book work to do,” she reasoned. “I can’t wait to see him. Do hurry, Cole.”

  She was anxious for the reunion with all of her brothers. She had gifts for everyone, including a box full of books A
dam would treasure, drawing paper and new pens for Cole to use when he was designing a new building to add to the ranch, medicine and brushes for Douglas to use on his horses, a new journal for Travis to keep the family history in, several catalogues, seed for the garden she, under Adam’s supervision, would plant behind the house, chocolates, and store-bought flannel shirts for all of them.

  The reunion was every bit as wonderful as she knew it would be. The family stayed up well into the night talking. Cole didn’t tell his brothers about the attorney who had visited Mary Rose’s school until after she had gone up to bed. He didn’t want her to worry. He was worried, however. None of them believed in coincidences, and so they discussed every possible reason the lawyer could have to want information about the Clayborne family. Douglas and Cole had both done unsavory things when they were youngsters, but time and distance from the gangsters they’d preyed upon had convinced them their crimes had been forgotten. The real concern was for Adam. If the attorney had been hired by the sons of Adam’s slave master to track him down, then trouble was coming their way.

  Murder, they all knew, would never be forgotten. Adam had taken one life to save two others. It had been accidental, but the circumstances wouldn’t be important to the sons. A slave had struck their father.

  No, the father’s death would never be forgotten or forgiven. It would be avenged.

  An hour passed in whispered discussion, and then Adam, as head of the household, declared it was foolish to worry or speculate. If there was indeed a threat, they would have to wait to find out what it was.

  “And then?” Cole asked.

  “We do whatever it takes to protect each other,” Adam said.

  “We aren’t going to let anyone hang you, Adam. You only did what you had to do,” Travis said.

  “We’re borrowing trouble,” Adam said. “We’ll keep our guard up and wait.”

  The discussion ended. A full month passed in peaceful solitude. It was business as usual, and Travis and Douglas were both beginning to think that perhaps nothing would ever come from the lawyer’s inquiry.

  The threat finally presented itself. His name was Harrison Stanford MacDonald, and he was the man who would tear all of their lives apart.