“Because we’ve been corresponding, we know we have similar tastes and personalities. I think we could have a good marriage.”
“You might want to go back to the circus, and I won’t leave Clear Creek.”
Cullen still worried about her running back to the circus.
“I left for several reasons and will not be returning. But, I’d like to visit my family whenever they may be close by performing. And I’d like to invite them to visit Clear Creek during the circus’ off-season.”
Rose wanted to be sure Cullen knew she was not going to cut off her life from her family. They may live in different places, but they could still keep in touch.
“I can’t provide you with unlimited train tickets.”
“Then I’ll write romance novels and save up my own money so I can visit them every other year,” Rose retorted back.
“The husband is to provide for his family.”
“And you have a good job as a postmaster.”
“I don’t have a house for us.”
“Then we live in your room until you can afford something different for us.”
What was going through Cullen’s mind? He’d been attentive and protective when around others but shied away from her now.
Cullen took a deep breath and finally looked Rose in the eye.
“I have an obligation that takes a chunk of my paycheck.”
“You already have children to support?”
“What! No, nothing like that, I swear.”
“I wouldn’t be upset if you did. It’s better than you have a gambling debt or drinking habit you had to support.”
“I’ve never stepped into a saloon after…I don’t drink or gamble.”
Rose reached for Cullen’s hand and was grateful when he wove his fingers with hers.
“Cullen, I won’t judge you, and I won’t tell another soul if you don’t want me to. Is this ‘thing’ keeping you from thinking about marriage to me or someone else?”
“Yes, I guess it is part of my reasons.”
At least he was finally opening up to her. Now, what should she do?
“Then it’s your decision of what happens next.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Cullen stood up, pulling her up beside him.
“Let’s continue walking. I uh, need to stop by my place to pick up a box of food,” Cullen said as he turned to walk down the alley behind Main Street.
“I live above Clancy’s Café. It’s only one room, but it’s worked for me, so far.”
Cullen stopped a moment at the bottom of a steep outside staircase. “I’ll be back down in a few seconds.”
Rose watched Cullen run up the stairs two at a time. The screen door had barely banged shut when he was out it again and down the steps carrying a wooden crate that had several cans and jars in it, plus the tin of cookies on top.
“Who’s the food for?”
“I help someone out. Bring him food every Sunday,” Cullen said as he looked both ways before slowly walking down the alley so she could keep up with him.
“I assume your family knows about this?” The Reagan’s might but Rose bet most of the town didn’t the way Cullen was skirting down the alley, trying not to be seen.
“Yeah. Ma usually sends something extra she baked on Saturday. It could be bread, pie, or today’s cookies.”
Rose followed Cullen around to the back of a small wooden house two streets over from Main Street. Cullen juggled the crate with one arm while he opened the back door and called out loudly, “Charlie, it’s Cullen. May I come in?”
“Cullen?” Rose could hear a man’s voice from the front room.
“Yes, I’m here with food and someone else. We’ll set the food down in the kitchen and come in to talk to you.”
“Alright.”
Rose looked around at the stark white kitchen. It only had a small table and one chair. One skillet and a coffee pot on the stove, one plate and set of silverware on the table. The person was alone and only had what was needed to survive.
The front room, and apparently the only other room in the house held a bed, a small dresser with a mirror above it, and a rocking chair with a small table beside it. A kerosene lamp and a small pile of books and papers sat on the table. A dingy brown wool coat, a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of overalls hung on the three hooks by the front door.
Cullen led Rose to stand in front of the man sitting in the rocker. He looked to be in his late sixties in age.
“Charlie, I’d like you to meet, Miss Rose Leander. Rose, this is Charlie Moore.”
“Nice to meet you, young lady. Cullen’s never brought a friend to meet me. Cullen, please get the chair in the kitchen so she can sit down beside me. You can sit on my bed.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Moore,” Rose said while holding out her right hand to shake the elder’s.
Rose froze when she looked into Mr. Moore’s gaze. His eyes and the shape of his face was so much like Cullen’s. Was this a relative of Cullen’s?”
Cullen brought in the chair from the kitchen and set it between the bed and the rocker, and Rose sat down for the visit.
“I brought you ma’s oatmeal cookies, along with some supplies for your week. You need anything else?” Cullen asked.
“No, I’m fine, thank you. Now I want to visit with your pretty lady friend. You from around here, Miss Leander?”
“No, I’m a long ways from home, but moved here this week to be a mail-order bride.”
“You’re marrying Cullen? By golly, it’s time he married.”
Rose chuckled at Cullen’s red face. “Well, no. I answered another man’s letter, but he decided he didn’t want me after he saw I had a bad arm. I worked for a circus and was injured in a train accident. Until my situation is solved, I’m staying at the parsonage for now.”
“The Reagan’s are good people. I’m sure Kaitlyn Reagan has a plan for your future?” Mr. Moore asked before he grinned, apparently knowing the woman’s capabilities to help others.
“Did you say your name was Leander? I saw the Flying Leanders years ago in St. Louis, oh fifteen or so years ago. Was that your family by chance?” Mr. Moore asked.
Rose smiled proudly. “Yes, it would have been my grandparents and parents. Was there a little girl on a young man’s shoulders?”
“I think there was. Was that you?”
“Yes, that was me,” Rose said with a lump in her throat. She’d performed for so many years and had so many good memories of those first years.
“Why are you giving it up now?”
“I can no longer perform and decided I wanted a new life away from the circus.” Rose pointed to her left shoulder.
“Ah, just like me,” Mr. Moore pointed to an empty pant leg. Rose had noticed his crutches by his rocker.
“Sometimes circumstances beyond your control changes your course. I was a brakeman for years until I fell off the train at the wrong time and lost my leg.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Moore. Do you have family here to help you?”
Mr. Moore turned to look at Cullen, but Cullen didn’t meet his eye or say anything.
“Cullen helps me out since it’s hard for me to carry groceries home from the store.”
The silence in the room continued as neither spoke about their relationship. Was Mr. Moore Cullen’s father, uncle, older cousin? Did she dare ask? Or change the subject?
“Since I’m without a groom, Pastor Reagan suggested Cullen marry me next Sunday,” Rose said to stir up the tension in the room.
“Am I going to be invited to your wedding, Cullen?” Mr. Moore quietly asked.
“I think there are other men better suited for Rose’s husband than me. I’m just showing Miss Leander around town this evening.”
Rose looked between the two men, but they didn’t seem to have any more to say to each other.
After a few more moments, Cullen stood up. “We better get back to the parsonage. Ma will have supper ready soon. I’ll see
you next Sunday, Charlie.”
The older man sighed, knowing that was the end of their visit. “Nice to meet you, Miss Leander.” He held out his hand, and Rose shook it while Cullen moved the chair back to the other room.
And without another word, Cullen escorted Rose out the back door to return to the street. Dare she ask what Cullen and Mr. Moore’s relationship was? Yes, Rose decided because they couldn’t have that big of a secret between them if they chose to marry.
Chapter 7
“Mr. Moore seems like a nice man,” Rose said as they walked away from the small house.
“Seems to be. I…haven’t spent much time with him,” Cullen quietly answered her.
Rose gave him a look, probably wondering why they only visited one day a week. Cullen hadn’t told anyone Charlie was his father, just an older man he helped.
The Reagans knew but never mentioned it to others since Cullen asked them not to. The family always kept a parishioners’ conversations in the church office between them, so this was no different.
“And why don’t you visit him more often?” Rose quietly asked.
“Just don’t. I have my job and other activities going on,” Cullen said without looking at her, concentrating on the uneven ground they were walking on instead. He didn’t want Rose to fall.
“Cullen, your mother told me why you were adopted when you were young. It doesn’t bother me, nor shame me to be associated with you.”
“Ma told you about my mother?” Cullen felt his face and neck heat with shame.
“Yes, that your birth mother worked in a brothel, and you were left to fend for yourself after she died. I’m sorry for your loss, Cullen.”
Cullen wiped his hand over his face. Years later the facts still stung.
“Is Mr. Moore your father, Cullen?”
Cullen stopped to stare at Rose. What? How did she guess that?
“You two look a lot alike, except Mr. Moore’s hair is silver now. Am I right?”
What could he say? Cullen hadn’t told a soul about his father being in town.
Cullen decided to confess because this might change Rose’s mind about marrying him.
“Yes, Charlie is my father. Charlie came to the area looking for me after my ma died because he thought I was his son.
“Charlie found out I had been taken in by the Reagans, so he left without saying anything. He decided a preacher’s family could offer more to me than him since he was always traveling as a brakeman,” Cullen confessed.
“I’m so glad you’re together again. How did that happen?”
“Charlie was hurt nearby a few months ago. I rented the house for him since he couldn’t work anymore.”
And now it boiled down to Cullen was strapped for money to take care of a wife and family, because he was taking care of his father, who Cullen didn’t want to acknowledge.
“If we marry, Mr. Moore could move in with us,” Rose told Cullen.
Cullen couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Rose would take in his father, willingly, knowing their background?
“It would be more economical to have one household versus two homes,” Rose continued.
Cullen hadn’t asked Rose to marry him, but she was making plans to include Charlie anyway?
“Can we walk by the two homes that are for sale?” Rose asked as she looked around the neighborhood. Cullen’s brothers talked about the houses again during dinner, so Rose knew they were for sale.
“Rose, I’m not sure—”
“Not sure you want to marry me or include your father in your life?” Rose interrupted him.
“Both. A few days ago, you were Kandt’s bride I was writing to on his behalf, and Charlie was just a man I delivered groceries to on Sundays.” Cullen shook his head, still not comprehending how fast his world changed.
“I know what you mean. I thought I’d be a rancher’s wife this week,” Rose answered him while shrugging her shoulders.
How could she be so calm about her life being upended?
“Most women I know would be wringing their hands or bawling their eyes out with your predicament. Why are you so calm?”
“I suppose my background, maybe? You must stay focused and tranquil when you’re walking a high wire. You can’t panic, or you’ll fall, or cause others to fall.”
Cullen and Rose walked on in silence. They’d be walking by one of the houses at the end of this block, so they might as well look at it to satisfy Rose’s curiosity.
“I wouldn’t mind your father living with us, because our circus family has always been packed together like sardines in a can, or rather a rail car.”
“Rose, I haven’t told anyone, besides the Reagans, that Charlie could be my father. People would wonder why he’d live with us unless he was family.”
“Family is whoever you choose, or who chooses you. The Reagans are your family, but you’re not related to them. I consider my fellow travelers, the Bearded Lady, as my honorary aunt, and the Skeleton Man, my uncle.”
Cullen couldn’t help but smile at Rose’s version of a family. Rose and he had such a different background. In some ways it seemed to conflict, and in other ways, it was…refreshing.
Cullen stopped and pointed at the house on the corner. “This is one of the houses. I haven’t been in it, so I can’t say anything about floorplan. It’s owned by the bank, so I’d have to talk to—”
“Does anyone live there now?” Rose interrupted him.
“No, it’s empty, but—” Shoot. Rose ran up to the house, intent to look in the windows. Oh no. Now she’s trying the door handle!
“Rose, you shouldn’t—go inside.”
Too late. Rose realized the low front porch window wasn’t locked, pushed it open, and vaulted one-handed over the window sill. By the time Cullen walked to the front door, Rose had it open and was waiting for him.
“You know Marshal Wilerson would call that breaking and entering,” Cullen told Rose when he stopped in front of her.
“I didn’t break anything, and you’re the only person who entered through the door,” Rose smiled sweetly.
The woman would add a little sparkle to his dull life.
“I assume Mack or Jasper Kerns would be best to inspect the house to see if it’s sound. The plaster needs to be fixed in a few places on that back wall, and painted a bright, cheerful color,” Rose said as she assessed the front room.
Dare he ask what a bright, cheerful color was to a woman who grew up in the circus? It was probably yellow, orange, and red.
Cullen followed Rose into the kitchen, waiting for her thoughts on this room because he was sure she'd have some.
Rose walked over to the cook stove, opening up the oven door and peering in, before opening and closing the fire door.
“You know, I've never cooked on a stove before. The circus cook fixed all our meals.”
“Uh, so you don't know how to cook?” That seemed...unbelievable for a woman not to know how.
“No, but I'm sure I can learn,” Rose's mischievous smile knew she was up to something. “I know there are excellent cooks and bakers in your town. I could ask for their advice and recipes.”
“Just as well have Dan and Edna Clancy to move in with us too,” Cullen muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me? Did you say something?” Rose asked as she backed away from looking out the back porch door.
“Just wondering if the stove worked okay. It would have to be checked out.”
But his words hung in the air unheard because Rose had already wandered on.
“There's no downstairs bedroom unless we use the parlor room as such. Your father needs to be downstairs and have a room to himself.”
“Is there a bathroom?” Cullen opened the extra doors to see where they led to. Charlie would need that too, instead of trying to get to the outhouse Cullen had spied in the far corner of the backyard.
One door led upstairs and the other to the cellar.
“Let's look upstairs, but I don't think this ho
use will work for us,” Rose said as she sprinted up the narrow stairs. Not having use of her left arm didn't slow down her legs.
Cullen waited at the bottom of the staircase because he was sure Rose had already looked around and made up her mind.
“No, the rooms are alright, but Charlie couldn't get up and down those narrow steps without falling.”
“What if Charlie doesn't want to move? Maybe he likes his privacy in his own home,” Cullen threw another block in Rose's path, hoping it would slow her down.
Rose looked thoughtful for a moment as if considering Charlie's point of view.
“No, I think he'd like the company and would welcome our help with his daily needs,” Rose concluded. “His home had a particularly bad smell to it. How does he bathe and wash his clothes?”
Cullen scratched his head and looked away not knowing how to answer that. Cullen had concentrated on bringing Charlie food, so he assumed the man did a spit bath in the kitchen basin.
The smell probably came from the dirty floor if Charlie spilled a little of the chamber pot as he carried it, using his crutches, out the back door and to the nearby outhouse.
“Who does his laundry?” was Rose's next question.
“There's a lady in town who does his laundry, as well as mine. She picks up and delivers washing back to us, and I pay both our bills.”
“I'd like to continue her services after we marry since it's hard for me to wring out clothing.”
Cullen sighed. Rose still assumed they were getting married. But he quit telling her no, so what should he expect? Maybe the idea was growing on him.
Rose stood with the front door open, waiting for him to leave? No doubt she'd crawl through the window again.
“Let's look at the other house now, shall we?”
What could Cullen do but walk out the door? His life was being taken over by a circus ringleader.
Chapter 8
Monday
Rose was lying on her right side on Doctor Pansy’s examination room table with a hot wet towel on her left shoulder. She didn’t look forward to the doctor manipulating her injury, but Doctor Pansy thought something could be done for her stiff joints, so Rose wanted her to try.
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