Rose Red: an Everland Ever After Tale

by Caroline Lee

  The barn door creaked, and all of his senses instantly went on the alert. Was it Rose coming back, or someone else? Usually she just stepped inside, but this time—? He cursed himself silently for leaving his guns way over by the woodpile.

  Frozen, he watched the door slowly swing open, followed by a woman’s rear end. She was muttering to herself, dragging something backwards into the barn. The gentleman in him would’ve jumped to help her, but he was still too surprised at the sight. Besides, his bum leg meant he couldn’t do most of what he wanted—or needed—to do.

  Whoever she was, she kicked the door shut and kept backing up. Bear realized she was dragging a big trunk, like the kind a lady might travel with. Was she storing it in the barn, or moving in with him in these dubious accommodations?

  She still hadn’t seen him, judging from her mutterings. He really should help her, but he couldn’t, so he settled for calling politely, “Ma’am? Do you require assistance?” If she said yes, he’d figure out how to hobble over there.

  Instead of shocking her, though, his call seemed welcome. She was smiling when she straightened, putting her hands in the small of her back and stretching. She was fairly young, with straw-straight blonde hair and owlish pale eyes behind spectacles, and didn’t look a thing like Rose. Still, he had to assume that this was Snow, the sister she’d mentioned a few times.

  “Thank you, but I’m…I’m…ahhhh…” The visitor’s face contorted, and Bear was already lurching for her, thinking to help, when she let loose a volley of furious sneezes right in a row. The woman groped for a handkerchief to try to catch the sneezes, but it didn’t seem to help. “I’m sorry, I thought that the snow would’ve—ahhhh-choo!—cut back on—ahh-choo!—hay fever, I think.” It was Christmas. Whatever was making this woman sneeze, it wasn’t hay fever. The moldy straw in the back corner, maybe? “I can’t stand these blasted—aaahh-choo! Ahh-choo! Aaaaaaahhhh-choo!”

  Another furious fit of sneezing—during which Bear was glad his beard hid his smile, because he sure couldn’t contain it—the woman finally subsided, and straightened once more. Her eyes were watery, and her nose red, when she offered him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. Sometimes they just come on me like that. I’m Suzy, but the others call me—well, their nickname isn’t quite as nice.”

  Bear couldn’t help himself. “Is it ‘Sneezy’?”

  Sneezy glared. “I said it wasn’t very nice.”

  “So you did. The ‘others,’ Miss Snee—Suzy?”

  “Suzy is fine,” she sniffed. “The other Godmothers, of course. The guild is based here in Everland. Usually we help the ladies, but since dear Rose has things under control—even if she is a little misguided—I’m here to help you.”

  Bear had stopped listening at godmothers. Did she honestly expect him to believe that? That there was a group of ladies who went around helping people? Sounded more like an excuse to meddle, if anyone had asked him. Still, he managed not to snort in disbelief, and to look at least semi-interested when she turned those spectacles his way.

  She seemed to be waiting for a response. “Oh, good?”

  Her bright smile made him feel a little low, for doubting her, but she immediately launched into a flurry of sneezes that made him sigh and lean his good hip again against the railing while he waited. She just waved one hand at him and turned slightly away, her face buried in her handkerchief, as if asking him to hold on a moment.

  Finally, she sniffled once or twice, nodded firmly, and muttered, “That had better be the last of them,” and tried for another smile. “Well, what are you doing, still over there, Barrett? Hop on over, and we’ll get you all set up.”

  How had she known his name? “All set up for what?”

  “For your grand adventure this evening, silly! It’s Christmas Eve, have you forgotten? The big celebration is at the church tonight, and Rose will be there, of course. And of course, there’s the fact that the Quigg gang will be attacking at nine.”

  Bear began to move as soon as she said the name Quigg. “What do you know about the gang?” He didn’t need his guns to intimidate someone the size of Sneezy.

  But to his surprise, she just looked at him curiously, her head cocked to one side. “Godmother, Barrett, remember? We know all sorts of things.”

  “Like classified information about the habits of criminals?” He was looming over her now, but she just smiled and patted his chest.

  “Yes, exactly like that.” Another pat. “My, you’re certainly fit, aren’t you? No wonder Rose likes you so much. She already—ahh-choo!” She sneezed on his chest, but Bear was too confused to be concerned. What the heck was going on? “Sorry. Anyhow, we’d better get started.”

  “Started on what?”

  “On making you presentable, of course. Heroic, even. Here.” She turned towards the trunk, and lifted the top in such a way that he couldn’t see inside, and pulled out a chair. A full chair, big enough to support his weight, and far too large to have fit inside that trunk. She set it down beside him with a flourish. “Go on, sit, Barrett. I can tell your leg is still paining you, even though it’s healing. Ahh-choo! Excuse me. It is healing, by the way. You won’t be able to walk without a limp, but you’ll be able to walk, at least.”

  Bear struggled to take in her flow of words. “Oh, good.” He sunk into the impossible chair she’d offered. “That’s good, right?” How could she know that about his future, if he wasn’t sure?

  But Sneezy just sent him a look that made him feel like he was in school again, and then sniffled her way over to the trunk again. This time she lifted out shaving implements and a basin of warm water. He could see the steam rising from it. How had she managed to keep a bowl of hot water from tipping over inside the trunk? “Here you go, Barrett.” She set up a little mirror. “I’m assuming that you can manage to shave yourself, right? I think it’s time Rose see what she’s really getting, under that beard.” Shave off his beard? His disbelief must’ve shown, because she rolled her eyes behind the spectacles. “At least trim it down a bit, so you don’t look quite so much like a bear.”

  He snorted, but took the razor. After, he had to admit that, even with the long black jacket, he looked a heck of a lot less like a dangerous outlaw, and more like a man who might be allowed to court a pretty little author. Sneezy whisked away the shaving implements, and brought out another basin of hot water, some soap, and a rag, along with a folded bundle. “I’ll leave these here, Barrett, while I go outside and hum loudly. Maybe my allergies won’t be so bad out there.” From the number of times she’d sneezed since being in the barn, Bear didn’t think there was much hope of that. “Go on and give yourself a wash. You might not look like a bear anymore, but you sure smell like one. There are new long johns there,” she pointed to the stack of clothing on top of what Bear was fast believing was a magical trunk, “And some trousers. Do hurry. It’s going to take you an hour to hobble into town.”

  While she stood outside—and yeah, Bear heard her sneezing almost constantly—he made short work of washing and changing. It sure felt good to be clean again. Yeah, he had to rely on the chair more than he used to, but that was a combination of his tricky leg not supporting nearly enough weight, and the fact that he was still weaker than a day-old kitten.

  “Are you—ahhhh-choo!—Sorry. Decent? Are you decent?”

  No matter what hocus-pocus Sneezy used, it was hard to take her seriously. Bear slammed the lid of the trunk closed—of course he’d peeked inside, and had been surprised when it looked so normal—and turned to the door. “Yeah, I’m clean and dressed. Now what?”

  “Now what, what?” She hurried inside, wiping her nose. “We’ve got to get you into town.”

  His leg still hurt from hobbling over from the pig sty railing. “How? In that magic box of yours?” The sarcasm in his voice was mostly for show.

  “No.” She was giving him that look from behind her spectacles that reminded him of Miss Peachly, the schoolmarm back home. “No, Barrett. You can’t fit in my
trunk.” Without looking, she lifted the lid just far enough to reach inside and pull out a cane. Bear’s brows lifted. He could’ve sworn that thing was empty when he’d looked inside a moment ago. “This is a cane. A caaaaane, Barrett. Do you know what a cane is?”

  Bear cursed under his breath. “Oh, just give it to me.” He snatched the finely carved stick from her, and was surprised to see that it was long enough to support his height. In fact, it was a heavy dark wood, with a thick knob at the end to cradle his palm. He couldn’t have picked a better one out for himself had he been cane-shopping in Salt Lake City.

  Snee—Suzy must’ve realized that, because she nodded in satisfaction. “Good, good.” Then she hurried over to his makeshift sleeping quarters and hurried to clean up while he practiced hobbling around. Shoving everything she’d gathered into the trunk, she stood up and sneezed. Looking irritated—at the universe, and him in specific for witnessing that sneeze—she waved towards the barn door. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go, save the town. Impress Rose!”

  “By myself?” He dreaded the idea of hobbling into Everland, his leg a thick mess of pain. “With a cane?”

  She tsked, and rolled her eyes, and fished out his gunbelt. “Here, strap this back on, I suppose. Thank goodness you’re left-handed.” She must’ve noticed that while he was shaving, or something. “You’ll be able to draw on Quigg even with the cane. Sheriff Cutter will give you whatever help you need.” He made short work of settling his guns back on his hips, and then straightened. Despite the heavy cane in his hand, this felt good. Felt normal.

  “Here, don’t forget the most important thing.” With another flourish, she presented him with his freshly buffed badge. A silver star, reminding him and everyone around him that he represented the laws of the United States of America. It was time for him to wear it again.

  Bear pinned the badge to his vest, and was glad he hadn’t pulled the jacket back on. If he managed to drag his sorry butt into Everland, he wanted everyone—Quigg and Rose—to see the real him. He was tired of living in the shadows. He was US Marshall Barrett Faulkner, and he wanted everyone to know it.

  “Good, good!” Sneezy nodded approvingly. “Now, go. You’ve got two hours to hobble a half-mile. Surely you can manage that.”

  With his free hand, Bear tipped his hat to the strange young woman, and took his first steps towards freedom. As the barn door closed behind him, and he looked out over the Christmas Eve snow-covered landscape, he smiled. He had a trek in front of him, and danger at the end, but it was worth it. His guns were on his hip—he’d left the rifle in the barn, because he only had the one free hand—his badge was on his chest, and there was a beautiful woman waiting for him in Everland.

  Bear took a deep breath, and began. It was going to be a good Christmas, after all.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Oh my,” Snow gasped when her fingers found Rose’s and she squeezed. “Who is that?”

  Rose sighed, knowing her sister was only pretending great interest in the celebration’s patrons because she knew Rose was depressed. And why wouldn’t she be? She’d had to give up her dream of a future today. But Snow was trying to make it an enjoyable Christmas, and the least Rose could do was pretend. After all, tomorrow would have to be spent listening to Mama insult all of the townspeople over whatever dinner Snow had planned…so Rose should at least be involved this evening. After all, she’d helped decorate the church hall, and it really was lovely. The red bows were bigger than her head, and perfectly accented the boughs that were scenting the air so beautifully. The entire room was filled with the soft sounds of Signore Bellini playing Joy to the World, and the conversations of her neighbors. It was Christmas; the time for rejoicing and camaraderie, even if she felt like her heart was breaking.

  So she straightened her shoulders and tried to look like she was interested in whomever her sister had seen. “Where?” She peered through the crowds, nodding and murmuring holiday greetings to neighbors she barely knew. There was Max DeVille, one of her sister’s friends and an incurable flirt, and Rip from the Van Winkle Inn sleeping in the corner. Mr. Henry the station master raised a glass of punch in her direction, and Rose’s small return smile was genuine, at least. She’d met with him earlier that day—after that devastating news that her Bear had killed a lawman—but hadn’t recalled much of it. When he’d arrived at the celebration, though, he’d told her that the afternoon train had brought in a big batch of mail, including a package for Snow. The two sisters had been relieved to know that Snow would have the bright-white satin embroidery floss needed to finish her tiny gowns, and that they’d soon have enough income to not have to accept credit during the next month.

  “Him. Over by the door.” Snow sounded exasperated, and Rose dragged her attention away from Mr. Henry’s kind smile to see who her sister was staring at. There didn’t seem to be anyone special standing near the—

  And that’s when the crowd shifted, and Rose saw him. He was tall, and broad, and had thick brown hair that waved wildly about his head, even sticking out from under the black hat he wore. His beard was trimmed close to his chin, and she knew without being closer that there was kindness in his remarkable eyes. Bear was here. Bear was here, looking as respectable as he could while leaning heavily on a cane and wearing his double gunbelt—the kind she’d only she’d seen as illustrations in her novels.

  “Rose? Rose, honey, you’re holding your breath.”

  She was, wasn’t she? Only, she couldn’t seem to make herself inhale. Why was the room spinning?

  “Rose. Breathe, honey!”

  Oh yes. She sucked in a breath, then another, trying to calm her racing heart. Why was Bear here? In the middle of all these good and decent people, like he might’ve been had he not followed a life of crime? Was he trying to get himself caught? Trying to land in jail? Oh goodness, Sheriff Cutter was looking his way, too.

  Pulling away from her sister, Rose pushed through the Everland crowd to stop in front of him. “What are you doing here?” she all but hissed at him, her eyes darting around the room to see if anyone beside the Sheriff had noticed him. “Are you looking for your horse? The livery stable’s down the street.” She grabbed one of his forearms, ignoring the feel of bunched muscle under her small hands as she tried ineffectively to pull him out of the room. “I’ll show you, but we’ve got to get you out of here before…”

  Rose trailed off as the flash of silver on his vest caught her eye. Was that what she thought it was?

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Miss White?”

  Oh goodness, there was Sheriff Cutter’s drawl right behind her, and Rose whirled to face the new threat, leaving her body squarely between the two men as if she could prevent the bloodshed she feared.

  Sheriff Cutter had Rojita on his arm, but she was watching two of her orphan charges over by the punch bowl, and soon patted her husband’s arm and slipped away. The Sheriff didn’t seem to notice, he was staring so intently at the big man looming over Rose’s shoulder. “Rose?” he prompted, and she closed her eyes in dread. What to say? Here’s a man I thought was a bandit, and I was harboring him and probably deserve to be locked up, but now it seems like maybe I was completely wrong, and he wasn’t an outlaw at all, and oh my stars I don’t know anymore.

  “U.S. Marshall Barrett Faulkner.” One of his large forearms snaked around her to rest against her hip, like it was the most natural thing in the world to hold her in public like this. “Sorry if I can’t shake your hand. My leg’s pretty busted up, and Miss White’s been doctoring me for a few days.”

  Rose instinctively pressed back against his chest, simultaneously comforted and confused by the way his warmth wrapped around her to make her feel safe. The lawman in front of them stared down at them for a moment, and then nodded. “Sheriff Hank Cutter, Marshall. Anything I can do to help you?”

  She felt Bear inhale deeply, and allowed his nearness to cradle her. “Actually, yeah. There’s going to be an attack on the train depot t
onight. I could use some backup. I showed up here hoping that Rose could introduce me to the local law…”

  She’d felt her stomach clench at the words train depot, and twisted in his hold. “It’s Christmas Eve! Why would the train station be robbed?” She kept her voice down, but knew she was sounding panicky. Snow couldn’t lose her package of embroidery floss…they were counting on it!

  Bear smiled down at her, and oh heavens he had a nice smile, under that thick beard. She hadn’t been able to see it so well before, but now…

  “All I know is what I heard Samuel Quigg and his boys planning. They mentioned Everland’s station, and a Christmas Eve delivery.”

  Sheriff Cutter cursed, and shifted his hands on his hips. “There’s a payroll come through tonight. Mr. Henry locked the place up tight, but we figured it’d be alright for him to leave it unprotected to show up here for the celebration.” As he spoke, his eyes scanned the crowded room. “Can I assume that you’re the lawman the gang took out?”

  A flicker of bitterness crossed Bear’s face. “You could say that. They didn’t like me sneaking around, eavesdropping.”

  Rose was astonished. “You’re the—“ She snapped her mouth shut, unwilling to admit that she’d assumed he was a murderer. A murderer of a lawman.

  But from the teasing tilt of Bear’s smile, he knew. “Sorry, Rose Red. I couldn’t tell you before, because I needed to get to the Sheriff myself. If the gang had found out...”

  “Yeah, they would’ve come back for you. Smart thinking, Faulkner.”

  “Call me Bear.”

  “Alright, Bear.” Sheriff Cutter nodded. “This might be rude, but you can use those guns, right?”