Rose Red: an Everland Ever After Tale

by Caroline Lee

  He wasn’t sure what she meant about that last part. And he wasn’t even sure who she thought he was…but it dang near killed him to not be able to tell her. A US Marshall was beholden to responsibility above and beyond a pretty set of eyes, even if he was falling hard and fast for her.

  “No. I’m the one who’s sorry for not being able to give you answers. But…”

  “I understand. Men like you probably have to keep your secrets.”

  Men like you. What kind of man, exactly, did she think he was? Had she seen his badge in his boot during one of her early-morning forays? Instead of asking—confirming—he just squeezed her hand. “Thanks for understanding, Rose. But…” He took a deep breath, and twined his fingers tighter through hers. “But we could still talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Well…about you, maybe? Unless you have to be somewhere, I mean, with the Christmas preparations.” She shook her head. “I’d like to hear more about this Christmas festival you’re planning. More about Everland.” And he refused to let himself feel like he was using her. Sure, her information would help him stop Quigg, if the outlaws came to town…but he genuinely wanted to know about her. Wanted to have something to think back over and remember on the thousands of lonely nights he had to look forward to, if he rode out of Everland without her.

  “You really want to know about me?”

  “Yeah. How about this; I’ll tell you one of my favorite Christmas memories, you tell me one of yours?”

  And when she smiled, he knew that he’d get his way. “And besides, it looks like you brought me a feast. The ambiance isn’t that great—” He gestured to the pigsty, “—but the company is. And maybe after we eat, we can read some more about Caraway? I want to hear you read some.”

  “You really do like the book, Bear?”

  He looked into those clear topaz gems, and told her the truth. “Rose, I think I’m in love with it.”

  Only, he didn’t mean the book.

  For all that he had a hole in his leg, and there was snow coming down outside, it was the best afternoon he could ever remember.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Good morning, Miss White!”

  Rose waved back to the smiling man who carried an ax down Andersen Avenue, but hurried on, afraid to admit that she didn’t remember—or had never known—his name. She knew that the townspeople were friendly, and she knew that she was known for her and her sister’s beauty…but that didn’t make her feel like she belonged here.

  No, she was beginning to think she belonged someplace else altogether. With someone else altogether.

  Still, she couldn’t deny that Everland was beautiful today. The town’s Christmas celebrations were always her favorite, and this year’s was no exception. There was colorful red-and-green bunting hanging from many of the railings, and firs woven into garlands and wreaths on every door. Even the Gingerbread House—the den of iniquity Mama was always raving against—was festooned in cheerful red bows and clumps of greenery. And over everything was a nice, fresh sprinkling of fluffy snow. It had been coming down in flurries since the afternoon a few days ago that she’d spent with Bear, and it just seemed to make the whole place that much lovelier.

  Or maybe it was that she was feeling a little lovelier than usual.

  Being with him, sitting beside him next to the hogs…had changed her, somehow. Had confused her, certainly. She’d taken time away from him, to think about what Snow had said about leaving Everland. And after those days away, she had decided that she couldn’t leave with him, couldn’t spend time with him, because he was a criminal.

  If she’d met him under any other circumstances, if she hadn’t known that he was an outlaw on the run from the Law, she would have thought that he was a good man. One of the good guys. But he wasn’t, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Should she continue her original plan, of learning all that she could from him, and then turning him into Sheriff Cutter when he and his posse returned from Granger?

  No.

  Maybe she could’ve, when they’d first met , but now that she knew him better…? Even if he was a bandit, she couldn’t be responsible for harming him, causing him pain. Because at some point, she’d lost her heart to him, and that made her the biggest fool in the west.

  Because, even though he was a bad guy, she’d realized he was a good man. And oh goodness, hadn’t that dichotomy kept her up fretting the last few nights? Even Snow had commented on how tired she’d looked. Of course, Mama hadn’t been so kind, berating Rose for looking “sallow” and “wan” right before the big Christmas celebration. After all, everyone knew that gatherings like these were the best chance to catch the eye of a visiting, worthy man.

  Rose’s stomach had roiled at her mother’s words, because she knew that no matter his past escapades, the worthiest man she knew was lying in her barn at that moment.

  There were plenty of people bustling around Everland today, and Rose imagined them taking care of their last-minute Christmas errands. One of the Pedlar sons was fixing the wreaths that hung in the front windows, under his mother’s watchful eye, and Mr. Grimm the undertaker had his usual cheerful smile as he swept the snow-dusting from his porch. Rose waved politely to a few people who called to her, but mostly kept her attention on the snowy road and her face hidden by her bonnet. Biting her lower lip, she had to admit that she’d gotten herself into a real pickle this time.

  After the time she’d spent apart from Bear last week, she’d come to the conclusion that she couldn’t turn him in, couldn’t stand to be the reason he’d be locked away. But she also knew—that for the sake of her own morality and soul—she couldn’t run away with him either. The only option was to let him go; send him on his way. That’s why she’d finally gone back to the barn, to see him one last time. To return his guns and check on his wound and see if he could manage to fetch his horse by himself.

  To say goodbye.

  But then he’d confessed that he’d read her book, and liked it, and she couldn’t resist sitting beside him to talk about it. And even though he didn’t share any of his own outlawing adventures, he told her about himself, and Rose had to admit that those stories were much, much better.

  She’d spent the past three afternoons with him. Sitting beside him, holding his hand sometimes. Just talking. Talking about past Christmases, and his childhood in Kentucky, and the mischief he and his brother had pulled as children. She’d told him about her dreams of traveling, and how she hoped to one day sell her novels to her publisher for enough to get away from Mama’s rules and pettiness. And together, they’d painted a pretty picture of a future, traveling by rail to see parts of the country they’d each only read about.

  But she wasn’t a fool. She knew that the idyllic painting could only ever be pretend. She couldn’t run away with him…because he was an outlaw. And even though she wouldn’t harm him, she also couldn’t condone his choices.

  No matter the joy and magic she’d felt cuddled beside him reading from her stories, she knew they had no future together.

  But despite the fact that he had his guns back, and despite the fact that she’d told him where and how to fetch his horse, and despite the fact that his wound was healing nicely…Bear was still in her barn. Each afternoon she’d gone back, opening the door in part-excitement, part-dread, wondering if he’d still be there. Hoping he’d had the sense to escape, to leave her to her memories. Loving the way her heart thrilled to see he hadn’t.

  Oh yes, she was in trouble. She’d gone and fallen in love with an outlaw.

  Sighing, Rose climbed the two steps to Mayor’s Books and Botany, too deep in her wistfulness to do more than glance at the elegant decorations hanging from the door. When she pushed it open, however, the usual cheerful tinkle of the welcoming bell was drowned out by something far lovelier. Something that pulled her from her hopelessness.

  In the corner stood Vincenzo Bellini, the world-renown violinist who’d retired to Everland this past spring, and he was softly playing Oh Hol
y Night, which had always been one of Rose’s favorite hymns. His wife, the former Arabella Mayor, sung softly along, shelving her books between sending her husband adoring glances. Of course, the man couldn’t see them, since he’d been hideously scarred years before in the war, but seeing the two of them interact always amazed Rose. It was like he could see right through the red silk blindfold he always wore—thank Heavens—and knew exactly where Arabella or her son were at all times.

  Little Eddie wasn’t in the store today—probably at his apprenticeship with Mr. King the carpenter—but Rojita Cutter was sorting through a stack of children’s primers. When the other red-headed woman gave a little wave to acknowledge Rose, Arabella turned to see who’d entered the bookstore.

  “Oh, happy Christmas Eve, Rose! It’s good to see you again!”

  “Happy Christmas, Mrs. Bellini,” Rose replied, a little shyly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your festivities.”

  Arabella made a shooing motion with her free hand, and then shelved the last book she held just as her husband finished the last clear note. Rose inhaled, wondering if she could capture the taste of the missing music along with the cinnamon from the small tree decorated in the corner. “Darling, Rose White has come to visit us. She’s wearing the most beautiful green jacket, and her lovely red hair is flowing all around her shoulders.”

  Vincenzo smiled, and sat down in one of the fancy chairs Arabella had arranged in that corner. “Good. You know that’s the loveliest a woman can appear.”

  Arabella’s blush at her husband’s teasing matched Rose’s. She was always a little uncomfortable at the way Vincenzo required people described to him, but she supposed that it made sense if he wanted to hold a picture in his mind.

  So maybe she sounded a little rushed when she said, “I’m just here to return Black Bart’s Revenge, and thank you for allowing me to borrow it for so long this time. We enjoyed it.”

  “We?” Oh, dear, she hadn’t meant for Arabella to pick up on that. “Has Snow started to read your books now, too?”

  Rose just smiled weakly, hoping it looked like she was agreeing, and changed the subject. “Are you ready for the festivities tonight?” She’d promised Snow that she’d stop by the train depot this morning before heading to the church to help prepare. Her sister was getting anxious about the shipment of satin embroidery floss she was expecting, and apparently couldn’t complete her waiting orders without it, which would mean much less money than the family needed for the next month. So Rose had happily volunteered to check on the shipping schedule when she was in town this morning. “I know that this will be a lovely celebration.”

  “I heard you and your sister were helping with the decorations?” Rojita ambled over, carrying three primers. At Rose’s nod, she smiled. “Then I’m sure it’ll be lovely. You two have a special touch when it comes to ribbons and bows and making things beautiful.”

  Rose wanted to defend her sister, to tell these friendly ladies that it was Snow who had the special touch, and that Rose just did what she was told when it came to arranging things. She could imagine a whole story, and write out all the details and plot…but she was hopeless when it came to arranging a fine household. But, since Snow had long ago asked Rose to keep her secret about her special talent, and Rose had agreed, today she just smiled weakly again at the compliment.

  “Do you want another book to read, since you both enjoyed this one?” Arabella moved towards the shelf of dime novels Rose enjoyed, tempting her.

  “I don’t know. I probably shouldn’t…” Borrowing such books was a frivolous expense Mama would never approve of, but she did love them.

  “Oh, for goodness sakes.” Vincenzo’s booming voice startled them all. “Lend the girl as many as she can carry, and I’ll pay for them. It’s Christmastime!”

  Arabella laughed, and Rose blushed, but moved towards the shelf of books she knew and loved so well. “Thank you, Signore. There is one that I’d like to re-read.” Bear would enjoy reading Captain Reasinger’s later adventures, and it was one of her favorites.

  Rojita had carried her purchases over to the little table where Arabella kept her ledgers. “And I’ll take these three, Arabella. Blue and the twins are ready for their next level, but Tom Tucker and Jack Horner have positively ruined their primers, so they can’t be passed down. It might not be the most exciting Christmas present, but they’re needed.”

  The door opened and let in a burst of flurry-laden wind that swirled Rose’s skirt and curls.

  “Red? Are you hiding in here?”

  Rose might not have immediately recognized the man bundled under the scarf and thick coat, but his loud question and Rojita’s corresponding squeal left no doubt that this was Sheriff Cutter, returned at last from the mountains north of Granger. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach that came with the realization that she was going to have to make a decision soon about Bear, as she watched the happy couple reunite.

  There was hugging and kissing, and the Sheriff even spun his petite red-headed wife around once. He was obviously pleased to be home.

  And Rose wasn’t the only one who could tell. Even without eyesight, Vincenzo had been chuckling. “Well, Sheriff, I’d say this will be a merry Christmas for you, eh?”

  “You’d be right, Signore. I sure am glad to get back to Red and the orphans. A man can only take so much sleeping on the frozen ground.” Rose’s wondered how many times Bear had slept on the ground, and if he’d ever been cold. He was certainly large enough—and hairy enough—to stay warm, but she had to wonder.

  “Were you successful? Did you catch the bandits?”

  Sheriff Cutter pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his grey-tinged dark hair. “Nah. The Quigg gang don’t make big scores, but they don’t have to, if they keep this up. And this time, they took out a lawman.”

  Arabella gasped. “They did?” at the same time Rose felt her heart sinking. She had a name for Bear’s gang of ruffians; the Quigg gang. Moreover, she knew the truth now.

  She could never have a future with a man who killed a lawman. Bear and his compatriots were murderers, and she was just as guilty, for not turning him in. Ashamed, she pushed the dime novel back into the shelf, anxious to be far away from Sheriff Cutter before he could sense her guilt.

  The others were still chatting, likely discussing the dead lawman, but Rose didn’t stop to hear the details. She didn’t think she could bear it. Instead, she slipped out the door without saying her goodbyes, and the only one who noticed her leave was Vincenzo, who turned his face towards the door when the bell tinkled softly. She was thankful that he wasn’t able to see her expression, because she was sure it was as sickly as she felt now.

  Hurrying down Andersen Avenue, Rose tried to focus on the train depot. Hopefully Snow’s package would be arriving today, because she needed a little bit of good news. From here she’d join her sister at the church to help hang the bows and wreaths, and then lay out the food for the evening’s celebrations.

  And the whole time, she’d have to keep her chin high and hope no one would notice that her heart was breaking. Because she couldn’t have a future with a murderer. Couldn’t have a future with a thoughtful and polite man who believed in her dreams, and also happened to be a hell-bound outlaw.

  No matter how much she might love him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  This was it. Christmas Eve. Today was the day he had to get into town, no matter what his sorry hide thought about it. Bear gritted his teeth, and used the railing around the pig pen to hobble a little farther. He’d named the remaining animals over the last two weeks, and when the fattest one snorted at him like she was laughing, Bear glared. “You shut up, Stinky. I’ll be gone long before you’re made into bacon.”

  But dang, he was weaker than he’d hoped he’d be when the time came. And everything hurt. But he’d been laid up in this barn longer than he should’ve been, and today was Christmas Eve. What he’d overheard from the Quigg gang told him that tonight would
be the time they’d hit Everland, if they were still planning on it. The smart thing would’ve been to ask Rose to find a lawman and bring him back here, but how could he do that without explaining everything to her? And then once she knew that, how certain could he be that she wouldn’t reveal too much to the lawman she found? And if she was overheard and word got back to the Quigg gang, she’d be in all kinds of danger…and he would be absolutely useless at protecting her, laid up like he was here in her barn.

  No, Bear had to get himself into town, to find a lawman, and warn him in person. Heck, he should’ve gone yesterday, or the day before, but he hadn’t been able to drag himself away from Rose. Not with the way she spent hours with him every afternoon, snuggled up beside him as they read to each other and talked about every topic under the sun.

  Every topic except the most important; who he was, and what he was doing in her barn.

  It was amazing how close two people could become while ignoring something like that.

  He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring—although he kind of hoped it would involve an actual bed and a hot meal—but the time had come to find out. And after he met with whatever lawman Everland boasted, after he telegraphed his superiors, he’d figure out what to tell Rose. What he could tell her that didn’t involve losing her for lying.

  Bear took another few lurching steps. Walking was getting easier, thanks to his daily exercise, but it didn’t hurt any less. He wondered if he’d ever be able to walk without pain. A draft made him look down, and remember that he was still prancing around in just a sliced-up pair of long johns. His pants were neatly folded by his makeshift bed, and he’d have to figure out how to get them on past the bandage Rose had wrapped neatly around his leg yesterday afternoon.

  Thinking about the way her hands had felt on his thigh, Bear figured that maybe some things could ache more than his wound. Being that close to her for so many days, feeling her skin against his, had been the best kind of torture he could’ve imagined. If blasted Quigg and his blasted gang hadn’t been looming over Bear’s shoulder, he figured he could probably sit right here beside this pig sty until Easter, if it meant seeing her every day.