Rose Red: an Everland Ever After Tale

by Caroline Lee

  “Yeah.” Bear’s drawl was dangerous and sexy all at once. Rose felt herself go cold, and then warm again. “You up to hobbling over to the depot with me, to take a look around?”

  Sheriff Cutter nodded once, already heading for the door. Bear wrapped his fingers through hers without even looking. Then, when she was still trying to come to grips with his casual touch, he leaned towards her. “Be safe, Rose Red. I know you and I have a lot to discuss, but I have every intention of coming back here to celebrate Christmas Eve with you.” He took a deep breath, and she noticed the way his silver badge sparkled against the black of his vest. “And maybe even more than that, if you’ll let me. But for now, I’ve got to go.”

  A quick squeeze of her hand, and then he was hobbling towards the door, leaning heavily on his cane.

  And maybe even more than that, if you’ll let me. Snow appeared at her side, but Rose didn’t blink.

  “Oh my. Was that the mysterious barn stranger?”

  If you’ll let me.

  Snow didn’t appear to notice that her sister wasn’t answering. “Rose, he’s gorgeous. Your mother will hate him, of course, because he’s not blonde, but oh my, he’s good-looking, isn’t he? And wearing a Marshall’s badge to boot. Where’d he and Sheriff Cutter run off to on Christmas Eve?”

  And maybe even more than that, if you’ll let me. Rose straightened, ignoring her sister’s questions. To heck with that! She was going to chase him down and demand some answers. Besides, she suddenly had a visceral need to make sure that he was safe. She was going after him. “To the train station, and I’m following him.”

  “Are you—“

  But Rose had pulled away from Snow, and as the door closed on the gaiety and neighborly cheer going on behind her, she knew that this was her place. Here, away from the people of Everland, who all seemed to have a place to belong. Here, where there was adventure and life. Here, with the man that she loved.

  Bear knew that he’d thank God every day for the rest of his life that she’d arrived too late to see him in action. In fact, he and Hank had almost missed said action, themselves. The sheriff had slowed his steps to allow Bear to keep up, and hadn’t that been galling? Even moreso when they’d hobbled up to the train station and realized that there was a light burning inside when there shouldn’t be one. Hank had high-tailed it around back, and Bear had stood his ground out front, and called for Quigg to show himself like a man. And when the gang had split up and burst out of both doors at once, three of the men had gone down in a hail of gunfire. Bear had dropped the cane and grabbed both of his guns at once, and soon Samuel Quigg was the only outlaw left standing.

  And that’s when Rose barreled into his back, breathless and frantic, and dang near gave him a heart attack.

  Bear whirled around, ready to face the new threat, and felt his right leg buckle under him. Shoot! He’d forgotten he wasn’t up for acrobatics like that. In very real danger of falling on his butt in the muddy street, he slammed his right Colt back into its holster and grabbed for her. Pulling her against him meant that not only would she be safe from any threats from Quigg, but also keep him upright for a bit longer.

  His leg ached something fierce, but not as much as his heart did to think about what would’ve happened, had she shown up two minutes earlier when the bullets were flying and he wasn’t nearly as fast as he used to be. Bear’s blood went as icy as the late December wind that blew around them, to think of her in danger like that.

  “What in the heck are you doing, Rose Red? You could’ve been killed!” It made him feel good to rail at something, and she was a convenient target. He poured all of his fear into his words, and resisted the urge to shake her. Instead, he pressed her face against his chest, keeping his revolver pointed at Quigg, kneeling in the muddy snow, and tried to slow his breathing.

  She was alright. She was alive, and he was alive, and it was Christmas Eve, and they were alive together.

  He didn’t know why that last part should make him feel better, but somehow it did. They were together. They were safe. He inhaled deeply, and held her more tightly.

  It took a moment to register the fact that she was poking him in the stomach, and he eased his grip a bit. Still not looking at her lovely face—not knowing if he could afford to look at her, because surely once he started he’d never want to stop—he grunted. “What?” he snapped, knowing his anger still wasn’t gone. She could’ve been hurt.

  “I can’t breathe, Bear.” He didn’t want to let her go—was afraid he might fall over if he did—but he loosened his hold. She straightened, away from him, but he didn’t have time to feel disappointment before he felt her tiny arms slide around his waist, offering what support she could. “Why are you so angry, Bear?”

  He swallowed, watching Quigg, and knew his voice was harsh when he finally choked out, “You could’ve been killed.”

  And dangit if she didn’t shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like his heart wouldn’t have been torn out if such a thing had happened. “Well, so could’ve you, you know. That’s why I followed.”

  Finally, he forced himself to look down at her, just a glance to make sure that she was really alright. But he got stuck, as he’d known he would, in a pair of clear topaz eyes and a perfect face. “You followed me why, exactly? How would you have helped?”

  Another shrug. “I don’t know. But I knew that I couldn’t let you come out here and be hurt again, maybe killed.”

  Bear swallowed again, his throat and mouth and mind suddenly dry. “And would that have mattered to you, Rose Red? If I’d been killed.”

  That’s when she smiled, sweetly, perfectly. “Oh, Bear. It would’ve mattered. I would’ve died too.”

  His head emptied as he exhaled, until it was as hollow as his chest. It would’ve mattered. I would’ve died too. She hadn’t said that she loved him, but that was close enough for any man.

  And he probably would’ve spent the rest of the cold, clear Christmas night staring down at her, ignoring his wounded prisoner, except for Hank, who came around the corner of the train depot then.

  “I see you had pretty good luck.” Bear planned on agreeing, just as soon as he could make his mouth work. He did have good luck, to be alive and mostly whole and have Rose in his arms. “Two other members of the gang made it out the back door. One’s dead, and the other probably wishes he was, the way I left him tied up. I’m fine, by the way.”

  Bear thought he might’ve nodded, and fully intended to thank the Sheriff…as soon as he was done looking into a pair of perfect topaz eyes.

  Hank actually made it close enough to slap Bear on the back before the larger man noticed. “I can see you’re busy, Marshall, so I’ll let you get on with things, shall I?” Bear finally tore his attention away from Rose, to meet the Sheriff’s eyes. “And I’ll throw Quigg and whoever else is still alive in the jail, and wire someone to come drag them to Haskell, or wherever the circuit judge is coming through next. I’m assuming you’ll be heading back to Washington, so I’ll stand up against ‘em at the trial.”

  Yeah, he had to go back to headquarters, at least to resign. He wasn’t going to be a very useful U.S. Marshall with this bum leg. But after, maybe… He glanced down at Rose again, and saw the sadness in her expression. What was she thinking?

  But Hank was talking again. “Say, if the Marshalling thing doesn’t work out for you, you might consider becoming a lawman in a different right. This area doesn’t have nearly enough judges, and riding circuit would at least bring you back to Everland once in a while.” Bear might’ve responded to the speculative tone in the other man’s voice, but he was too busy looking down at Rose, trying to make her understand that he couldn’t leave her. Not yet.

  Then, with another slap, Hank was gone, to haul a grunting Quigg to his feet and hustle him down the road. Bear swallowed, knowing that he had to make Rose understand.

  “About what Hank said…” Shoot, he should’ve started with about what you said, because he didn’t think he’d ever fo
rget her last words to him about him mattering. He swallowed and tried again. “That’s something I’ve been thinking about. Becoming a circuit judge, I mean. I like the law, I believe in it, and I don’t think I’ll be hunting down bad guys anymore.” His leg suddenly ached, as if reminding him of his wound. Bear re-holstered his gun, but didn’t want to let go of her long enough to pick up the cane.

  “You’re a Marshall? Really?”

  “Yeah. What did you think?” He had an idea, but wanted to hear her say it.

  “I thought…” She sure was pretty when she blushed. “Well, you showed up—I mean, you looked like—“ She sighed and pulled away from him long enough to wave one hand up and down his chest, as if trying to encompass all of him at once. “What was I supposed to think, Bear? You looked and acted like an outlaw.”

  Had he? Bear snorted, laughing at himself. “Not on purpose. I just couldn’t tell you who I really was, because I couldn’t afford anyone finding out that I was still alive. Or worse, the gang coming after whoever was helping me.” He saw her glance at the dead men by the station, and shudder delicately. “My life is dangerous, Rose Red. Or at least, it was. That’s what I was trying to say, earlier.” He shifted, awkward, and in a flash she’d picked up the cane and pressed it into his hand. It felt good to be able to take his weight off his right leg. “I have to go back to Washington, to report. And…” He swallowed, suddenly not sure how to say what he needed to say. “And to resign. But then…” A deep breath. “Then I’d like to come back here. For you. I’ve been thinking about taking up the law, about judging, like a few of my fellow Marshalls have done when they retired. I’d have to study, and be appointed, but I think it’d be a good fit for me.” Marshalling had been his life for so long, but he figured he could get used to judging, too. “I’m too used to roaming, Rose, to settle down, but I figure that as a circuit judge, I could—“

  “Take me with you.” It wasn’t a question, and it stopped him cold.

  “Rose Red…” Bear had to swallow down his fears, and just get it said. “I know this isn’t how a man usually courts a woman. And I know that it’s Christmas Eve and we’re standing in the snow and my blood’s still pumping because I’m terrified of what could’ve happened to you tonight, but…” A deep breath, and he snagged her cold hand in his free one, trying to put his feelings into words. “But I love you, and I want to give you the chance at a real life, the kind you deserve.”

  Her face had split into a smile that struck him right in the chest. “You mean it, Bear?”

  “U.S. Marshall Barrett Faulkner doesn’t lie, miss. Except when he really, really needs to.”

  “Do you need to, now?”

  “No.” He met her eyes, and smiled back. “No, not about this. I love you, Rose Red, because you’re kind and sweet, and you’ve got an imagination and dreams enough to keep me happy, and I want to make those plans for the future come true.”

  “Then take me with you. You know I want to travel. I’d love to see Washington, and the rest of the country.”

  “But your family? Your friends here?”

  She squeezed his fingers, and he realized how cold she must be, to be out here without a coat. Wrapping his free arm around her, he pulled her snug against him once more. Where she belonged. One of her small hands rose to play with the badge on his chest, and he felt proud, suddenly, to be able to share that with her. “I don’t have any real friends here, Bear. Barrett. No, Bear, still, I think.” She sighed. “I’ve never really belonged. I’ll miss Snow, but she assures me that she’ll get along fine with my mother in my absence. She told me to go off and have the adventures I wanted, so that I could write my books.” Rose met his eyes. “That’s what I want, Bear. To be with you, traveling.”

  “And your mother? You’re willing to leave her?”

  Her smile was a little dry. “Once you meet Mama, you’ll understand how easily I can leave her. She’s going to hate you, you know.” He bristled a little. Sure, he might be wounded, but he’d had an honorable career as a Marshall, and knew that he’d make a good husband. Rose, though, understood, and just patted his chest. “Mama sees what she wants, and none of it’s good. I think that, if you don’t mind me coming with you, I’d like to come back to Everland occasionally to see Snow, but Mama…?” She sighed. “Maybe one day she’ll understand how I could be so happy with you.”

  “And are you?” Why did he feel like a schoolboy again? “Happy with me, I mean.”

  That smile again, the one that knocked him in the chest. She really was a sight, under the moon and the stars, her red hair falling all around her pale face and making him want to kiss her so badly. “Yes. Since the moment I saw you cuddling with my pigs, Bear, I’ve been happier with you than I can remember being.”

  “I never cuddled—”

  “I love you, Bear.”

  He knew, then, that he was going to kiss her. Before he did, though, he had to work out one detail. “Well then, Miss White, the only problem is your name.”

  Those topaz eyes widened, and then blinked. “My name?”

  “Yeah,” he drawled, his own lips curving into a smile. “Rose Red, it’s just silly to have a last name like White.”

  “Oh? Do you have a suggestion?”

  “I was kinda thinking about changing it. To Faulkner.”

  Her smile grew, when she understood what he was asking. “I think I’d like that very much, Bear. Mrs. Rose Faulkner? Yes, I think I could write under that name.”

  He began to chuckle then, and she joined in. With the woman he loved in his arms, Bear knew that their future would be bright. Together. “Happy Christmas, Rose Red.”

  “Happy Christmas, my outlaw Bear.”

  There, under the Christmas Eve sky, with the snow falling gently around them, he kissed her. It was perfect.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at another Everland Ever After tale!

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  From Briar Rose: an Everland Ever After Tale

  “You may kiss the bride.”

  Briar, like every other unmarried—and many of the married ones—in Pastor Tuck’s congregation, sighed when the gorgeous couple at the altar leaned in for their first kiss as husband and wife. The groom was blonde and shiny and magnificent in his best boots and the silly jacket with the epaulets that somehow managed to look regal even out here in Wyoming. He was a Russian duke, after all, and had standards to maintain.

  The bride was Briar’s long-time best friend, Zelle Carpenter, and she had never looked as radiant as she did today. Well, there’d been that time a few months ago when Briar had helped dress her up to steal a kiss from the man who turned out to be her future husband, but that probably didn’t count. Today, Zelle wore a new gown of lavender silk that Ella Crowne had made for her—from scratch!—and Briar had helped to weave the purple autumn wildflowers into her short hair.

  The kiss seemed to last for an abnormally long time, judging by the throat-clearing and the way the bride’s father, Doc Carpenter, was beginning to scowl. But his wife just nudged him and smiled, and Briar remembered that it was his idea to have the couple married before they left for their trip to Dmitri’s land in Russia.

  She w
as going to miss her best friend, but Zelle promised that they’d be back in the spring, with Dmitri’s best horses and plans to build the grandest ranch house Everland had ever seen. In the meantime though, Briar had an entire winter ahead of her, without the one person in town that she could actual talk to. So maybe the tear she wiped away when the couple finally pulled apart was a little for Zelle’s happiness, and a little for her own loneliness.

  Forcing herself to push aside her self-pity, Briar cheered with the rest of the congregation as Mr. and Mrs. Volkov began their new lives together. She made her way into the church hall, where earlier that day she, along with Ma, Mrs. Carpenter and a few others, had spent hours decorating in Zelle’s favorite colors. Briar herself had baked the layered wedding cake the day before, in the Carpenters’ kitchen while Zelle daydreamed happily. After all, it’s not like Ma and Pa would’ve let her bake it in their house. But then, many of Briar’s happiest memories from the last several years had been set in the Carpenters’ home. She sure was going to miss Zelle.

  “What has you looking so down?”

  Briar startled, and the lemonade she held splashed over the edge of her cup. But she ignored the drips on her best blue gown and plastered on a smile for the newcomers’ benefit. Snow White and Zosia Spratt were best friends, just like she and Zelle had been before Zelle had gone and fallen in love. They had swept up to where Briar was standing against one of the windows, their arms linked and identical curious expressions on their lovely faces.

  “Looking down?” Briar pretended to scoff. “I’m just people-watching. I’m really happy for Zelle.”

  “People-watching, hmmm?” Snow’s head tilted slightly. “Anyone in particular?”

  “No, just looking…” Briar made a show of sipping from her lemonade and scanning the crowd. But she made a liar out of herself, when her eyes landed on a particular group, and a particular man.