by Caroline Lee
Your man. “My man? You mean the man in the barn?” Marry Bear? But Bear was… Bear was an outlaw. An attractive, well-read outlaw who admittedly made her pulse pound in her temples, but a criminal nonetheless. “I couldn’t…”
Snow clucked dismissively. “Then not that one. But find one, Rose, is what I’m trying to say. Either one of the men in town, or someone in Chicago where you send your stories, or something. Find someone who’ll take you away from all of this.”
Marry. Move away. Away from Mama’s meanness and Snow’s quiet suffering. Have her adventures. Adventures with a man. A man like Bear? No, no. Rose shook her head. She couldn’t possibly…
But her sister had planted the idea, and it wouldn’t be weeded out of her brain. Marry Bear. He was a bad guy, one of the ones who lost. But she’d been drawn to him from the beginning, and there was something about him… Something safe. Something honorable, almost, at the way he hadn’t once threatened her, or made her feel in danger. Something good.
Good Heavens, maybe she was one of the bad guys, too! Here she was, contemplating the possibility of running away—well, hobbling away, considering his wound—with an outlaw. Maybe she wasn’t as devoted to Law and Order as she’d always thought? Maybe that was why she hadn’t turned Bear over to Sheriff Cutter before he’d left for Granger?
Oh dear. This was quite a lot to think about.
Snow patted her hand, and stood. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, Rose, but your eyes just got real wide and you quit breathing for a bit. Maybe this man of yours is the answer, after all. Can I meet him?”
Her sister’s question pulled Rose from her musing. “No! No, you can’t meet him. I mean…” She stood as well, trying to straighten her skirts. “I mean, please don’t bother him. He’s still recovering.” Why was it so important to keep Bear for herself? Was it because she didn’t want anyone to know about him, so that she could get all the credit for turning him into the Law? Or because she secretly wanted to run away with him?
Snow’s eyes were sparkling with laughter when she pulled Rose into a gentle hug. “Well, alright then. I don’t really want to go visit your hogs, either. But you keep thinking about what I said, honey. Alright? Go live your life, and don’t let your Mama tell you how.”
After her sister sent her a gentle smile and returned to her tatting. Rose turned back to the window. This had always been her favorite room in this house—a little sanctuary from her mother—and there’d been a reason she’d set her desk in front of this window. In the spring, she could see wildflowers clear across the meadow to the little copse of trees. In the fall, the breezes coming across Lake Enchantment made the grass ripple beautifully. And now, at Christmastime, the snow coating everything to the distant mountains gave the whole world a sort of beautiful equality. And there, on the edge of her vision, sat the barn. The barn with Bear in it.
Go live your life. It’s what she’d wanted. Mama would never allow it, but what if she did as Snow suggested and just…left? Just fell in love and got married and left? And what if…what if Bear was the one to do it with? The one to have an adventure with?
But she was keeping him a prisoner, and that was a poor way to start anything together. Oh, he could easily overpower her, but she’d known almost from the beginning that he wouldn’t. She’d just brought one of his revolvers along each time because…well, not because she needed it, but because she needed him to think that she wasn’t helpless. He’d been nothing but polite and gentlemanly so far, which was part of the problem.
While she knew that he was an outlaw, she also knew that he was a gentleman, and that was confusing. Perhaps the best thing to do was to give him back his guns and send him on his way. That would certainly be less confusing.
But without her keeping him here, she wouldn’t have the chance to hear his stories. On the other hand, he hadn’t told her anything really useful yet, either. She was in real danger of losing her heart—and her future—when she hadn’t even achieved her objective. But Snow’s words kept running through her mind. Go live your life. That was the hard part; she liked Bear. Could she live her life…with him?
Forget her missing journal, forget the upcoming Christmas celebration. Rose had plenty to think about, right here and now. Like who Bear really was, and if she could be happy running away from everything she knew…if he was the one beside her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Three days. Three days since he’d last seen her. Oh, there was food left for him in the mornings, meaning she’d snuck in when he was asleep—and how embarrassing was that, to know that he never even heard her? But three days since she’d last been here, last sat beside him, last checked on him. Last touched him. Of course, he didn’t think he’d ever forget the feel of her little hand trapped between his and the bare skin of his thigh…not that he’d ever want to.
But in three days, plenty had changed. He was able to stand upright for much longer, and even hop around a bit, using the pig sty’s railing for support. He explored the barn—slowly—and had found a nice reading nook in the corner with some natural light. Once, he’d even ventured to open the door and stare out at the white expanse, but the temperature quickly reminded him that he wasn’t wearing pants, and his long johns had been torn up his right leg.
Yeah, he was getting stronger alright. But he wasn’t ready to leave yet. For one thing, he needed his horse and his guns back. For another thing, he didn’t know where he was—opening the barn door had revealed only a pretty little snow-covered cottage—or how to get to the nearest town. He figured he needed Rose for that, and she hadn’t been back to see him since he’d scared her off, dangit.
At least he had the new book. Sheriff Caraway’s adventures made for fun reading, and Bear found himself taking his time, savoring the words. He forced himself to put down the book every ten pages and get up to exercise. Because of that, he was stronger than he’d be if he’d sat on his butt all day, and the book had taken the full three days to read. He’d found himself smiling as he read the words, recognizing the phrases and the tone. Miss Molly sounded downright familiar.
It was just too bad that the volume ended right as the story was getting good. Mid-sentence, in fact. It obviously wasn’t a published book—the handwriting proved that—but where in the heck was the rest of the story? How would he find out if Murderous Mitch got away with his bank-robbing scheme?
One part of the book kept coming back to him; Sheriff Caraway teamed up with a circuit judge to bring one of Mitch’s other brothers to justice. Bear had done the same many times, and even counted a few of the more scrupulous judges as his friend. But reading about Judge Banner had gotten him thinking about what Bear might do if his leg was too busted to walk properly again. The life of a circuit judge wasn’t exactly quiet, but it wasn’t as hard as a US Marshall. And he’d always enjoyed reading about the law… Maybe he could get appointed somewhere nearby. So that when all this was over, when Quigg was behind bars and he could tell Rose who he really was, maybe he could see her again.
His musings were cut short by the scrape of the barn door. Instantly, all of his senses jumped on the alert, because this wasn’t the normal time for Rose to visit. But he had to unclench his hands—fisted in helplessness—when he saw that she was the one to slip through the door. She pushed it closed behind her, and then stopped. She hadn’t hesitated since that first day, and Bear wondered why she was staring at him like that. Like she was trying to remember every dip and crag of his face.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Why did he sound like he was chewing gravel? Was it just because he hadn’t seen her in a million heartbeats? “I missed you.” Dangit, he probably shouldn’t have admitted that, based on how her cheeks immediately pinked and she looked away.
There was snow on the shoulders of her green coat and she was holding an oilcloth-wrapped bundle and a basket. His stomach growled, even though there was still bread and meat leftover from this morning’s secretive food drop-off. Maybe she hea
rd it, or maybe she just got her gumption back, because he watched her square her shoulders and harden her jaw, and begin to move towards him again.
“Sorry. I’ve had a lot to think abou—to do.” She sunk to her knees beside him, just as she’d done all last week, like she hadn’t hesitated earlier. Graceful and sure and just as sweet as Christmas pie. Bear found himself leaning forward, eyes roaming over her lovely face. Like he was hungrier for the sight of her than he’d thought.
“I brought you something.” She shifted the bundle to her lap, and began to unwrap it.
“Is it pie?” Bear grinned at the flash of topaz under her lashes, and wondered why he was in such a teasing mood. Probably because he was—he had to admit—darn near ecstatic to see her again. He’d missed her, plain and simple.
But when she finished unwrapping, and laid his Winchester on the ground besides her knees, Bear lost his teasing grin. She was returning his rifle? Not just his rifle, he realized as she pulled the Colts out of the basket and placed the guns between the two of them. She was returning his livelihood. She’d healed him, and now was letting him go on his way.
And she didn’t even know who he was.
“I don’t know if you’ll be strong enough to fetch your own horse.” She wasn’t looking at him, but pretending great interest in her fingers, twined together on her lap. “I hope that you have some means of paying the livery, because I promised Mr. Foote…but I could always fetch the animal for you, if you can’t.”
There was a hollow thumping in his chest, and it took Bear more than a few breaths to identify. He was scared. He wasn’t ready to leave her, not yet. Now that he had the means, and maybe even the strength…he couldn’t really just mount up and ride off—hobble off—without her, could he? It was his job, what he was meant to do…but the thought was repugnant.
But by returning his guns and horse, was she telling him that she wanted him to leave?
Bear smiled weakly. “I think I’m still a few days off from being able to climb up on a horse, Rose Red.” The nickname earned him a hesitant glance, and he tried a real smile on her. “I sure would like to hear all about what you’ve been up to, though.” Anything to distract himself from the decision he was going to have to make soon. “I guess you’ve had a lot to do, with the holiday coming up, and all?”
“The holi—oh, yes. That’s what I’ve been doing.” She didn’t look at him when she told that obvious lie, instead turning to the basket to pull out wrapped bundles of food. “Lots of work to do around the house, and in Everland, you know. Plenty of celebrations planned. We always have a big social event at the church hall, and I help my sister make some of the decorations, most years. I think this year we’re doing big red flowe—What? What’s wrong?”
She’d finally looked up from her basket, and Bear knew what she’d seen. Knew because he could feel it, the shock on his face as he stared at her. “Everland?” His voice sounded raw. “We’re near Everland?”
“Yes.” He watched her tilt her chin to one side, sort of inquisitively. “Does that matter? I’m sure I mentioned it before. Everland, Wyoming. We’re on the outskirts, because Papa was sure he was just beginning to build a farming empire, which turned out to be a silly belief.”
“No. Pretty sure this is the first I’ve heard the name.” Except, of course, when Quigg had said it. When Quigg had mentioned hitting the train depot in Everland, to get the payroll that was being shipped through on its way to Fort Bridger. Yeah, he’d heard “Everland” then, and had vowed not to forget it, even as he felt his life draining away with his blood. That’s what had kept him going, knowing that he had to be well enough to get word to his supervisors, so that someone else could stop the robbery.
But here he was, in Everland after all. If he could make it into town, into the telegraph office, then he knew that the head men back in Washington would tell him that he was the closest US Marshall in the Territory, and that it was up to him to solve this problem.
Bear didn’t curse much, but he felt that he was justified in his whispered “Damn.”
“What did you say? Is everything alright?”
Taking a deep breath, Bear tried for a smile, but she was still looking at him a little warily. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.” That was a lie. The only thing that was fine right now was her being here with him. Because a minute ago he’d been telling himself how wrong it would be to leave her and do his job…and now he knew he didn’t have a choice.
His job had come to her. To Everland. And he had to protect her, just as soon as he could stand on his own two feet. Heck, he could’ve hopped his way into town during these last days, if he’d known how close they were… but then he wouldn’t have gotten to see her again.
And to read that book, which he had to admit was pretty good too.
“Oh! There it is!” Speaking of the book, looks like Rose had seen it, judging from her lunge towards the small stack of his reading material. “I’ve been looking all over for this!” She clutched it to her chest and turned to him, topaz eyes wide. “I can’t believe I was silly enough to leave it here. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? I enjoyed it. Days would’ve been a lot more boring without it.”
“You…” Why did she look so shocked? “You read it?”
“Well…yeah. I mean, was I not supposed to?” Bear shifted position, and his jacket fell open, revealing his right leg with the bandaged thigh and the bare skin. Maybe she was remembering the way she’d touched him—the way he’d touched her—the last time she’d visited, because her cheeks looked paler all of a sudden, and her breathing was shallower.
“No! No, that’s… that’s fine.” He didn’t dare grin at the way she tightened her grip on the book, and looked away, trying to breathe more normally. “What did you think?” The question was too nonchalant to be really nonchalant.
“I liked it.” At his words, her attention flew back to his face, her eyes strangely hopeful. Bear shrugged. “It was just as good—maybe better—as Black Bart’s Revenge. I just wish you had the rest of it. I want to read Part One. And I really hope you’ve got Part Three, because I want to know how Caraway manages to find the dynamite in time.” She looked almost shocked. Did she not expect him to enjoy reading? Well, he had to admit that he didn’t look the part. Looked more like a grizzled outlaw, truthfully. “Do you know the author? Is that how you got this version?”
Her eyes were still wide, her cheeks returning to their natural color, but she still looked like she might be holding her breath. “The… author? Yes. Yes, I know the author.”
There’d been something in the phrases, in the way the story had been told, that reminded him of her. “Do you think you could get Part Three for me? I’d enjoy it.”
“Yes, I think I can.” He wasn’t exactly surprised when she pulled a journal—identical in its cheapness to the first one—from her coat pocket. “I carry it with me when I go for walks, just in case I have ideas…” She sounded almost apologetic when she held it out to him, the other still clutched to her chest protectively.
How many times had he relied on his senses to alert him to danger? Too many, but right now he knew that the hairs that were standing up on the back of his neck meant something else entirely. A suspicion that was turning out to be true. He could tell how much this journal meant to her; could see it in her expression, in the way she held them. In the way she’d poured herself into them. He could see what they meant, and the level of trust her sharing them with him showed.
Humbled, Bear took the offered journal. Sheriff Caraway at Gumption Gulch, part Three of ?? was written on the inside page, in her neat script. “You wrote these?” He didn’t look up, but began to flip through. Yeah, here was Caraway and Molly, and no wonder she reminded him of Rose. Finally, he met her eyes. “You wrote this book?”
Hesitantly—at least it seemed to him—she nodded. Then, a deep breath, and: “That’s what I do. What I want to do. I’ve had some of my stories published, but not enough. And none
of my longer ones.”
“Why not? This one is great! At least as good as the dime novels floating around now.”
“I…” She looked down at the book in her hands. “I haven’t sent them in to my publisher. I don’t think they’re good enough.”
“Why not?” He tucked his jacket in, and pulled himself closer to her. “Why haven’t you?”
“Because I’m stuck here in Everland, Bear.” Maybe it was the use of his name, or the way those clear topaz eyes met his, but he felt like he’d seen her soul. “I moved here with my parents when I was a girl, and haven’t left again. Mama is critical of everything, and the townspeople are nice enough, but I don’t know them too well. Snow is my sister, and my only friend, and even she tells me I need to leave. My stories—my books…. They’re all from my imagination. I don’t even recall what it’s like to ride a train, Bear! How can I write about bandits and bank robberies and adventures?”
Her outburst done, Bear watched her wilt. Shoulders slumped, she leaned to one side and propped herself against the same woodpile he’d been using. And she wouldn’t meet his eyes again.
Not wanting to spook her, Bear slowly reached for her, his fingers skimming over the back of her hand. Shocked, she looked up, but didn’t pull away. “I think your imagination is pretty dang good, Rose.” Not as good as his was, at that moment, thinking about the way that fiery-red hair brushed against her neck. “And I think that I get why you’ve been asking so many questions of me this last week.”
And that’s when she turned her hand over, and wrapped her fingers through his. The same shock he’d felt when he’d touched her last spread up his arm…but this was a million times better, because she was the one who touched him. Bear felt his throat closing off as he tried not to crush her delicate fingers in his.
“I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you, Bear.” Her voice was a whisper, but he could feel it in his heart. “But I’ve been so curious about your life. About your adventures. …About your future.”