A Rancher for Rosie

by Molly Ann Wishlade

  Rosie perched on the edge then lifted her legs up and lay down. She spread out her black skirts and waited. She crossed then uncrossed her ankles. Was this the right thing to do? Could she really go through with it?

  A curtain moved in the corner of the room and a woman appeared. Rosie eyed her from her vulnerable position. Mrs. Appleby had warned her that the midwife’s appearance was shocking but that she wasn’t to mention it. Susanna, as she was known, had apparently wandered off as a child and been taken in by the Indians. During her time with them, they had tattooed her cheeks and chin with markings befitting her status in their tribe. Years later, Susanna had been ‘rescued’ by a band of soldiers and returned to civilization. Mrs. Appleby had shaken her head as she’d said ‘rescued’, implying that Susanna had in fact been taken from her adopted family against her will. When the soldiers had tried to make Susanna talk, to turn her to into some sort of exhibit or entertainment to regale them with the tales of her kidnapping and abuse—more head shaking from Mrs. Appleby—she’d cut out her own tongue. Mrs. Appleby seemed to believe that it was something to do with a code of honor that had been instilled into the woman. Whatever her reasons, she must have been pretty desperate to resort to such measures. How cruel it had been to take her away from her family, the people she knew and loved, just to return her to life as a white woman where she was now classed as no better than the soiled doves. Mayhap even lower than the women she helped. Desperate indeed.

  As you are now. But it’s not your tongue that will be cut out.

  As Rosie watched the woman washing her hands, then preparing something in a small bowl which she ground into a paste, she felt no horror or revulsion. Just compassion. How awful to be so desperate that you cut out your own tongue just to avoid talking. Was it her Indian family who were to blame or the soldiers who tried to use her as a showpiece? Rosie knew that the truth was not as straightforward as some might believe, and she admired Mrs. Appleby’s understanding of this fact. But then, her landlady had probably seen and heard a lot during her time.

  Susanna approached Rosie and she tried to still her trembling but her body refused to obey—her wanton body, the weak flesh that had led her astray and gotten her into this mess. Along with your foolish heart.

  Susanna stopped at Rosie’s side and took hold of her wrist. She held it tightly just below the bone and waited. Rosie held her breath. After what seemed like an eternity, Susanna released Rosie’s hand then motioned that Rosie should lift her skirts.

  Shame crawled over Rosie. How could she expose herself here in front of this stranger?

  “Don’t be afraid, Rosie. Susanna knows what she’s doing, and she’s seen plenty of cunnies before.”

  Rosie shuddered at Mrs. Appleby’s muttered words, but did as she suggested. She stared at the dusty beams of the ceiling and tried to think about something else, something other than the small, dexterous hands that Susanna ran over her stomach, smoothing, pressing and exploring. She had never had another woman touch her before, and although the examination was clearly an assessment of her pregnancy, it made her uncomfortable all the same.

  “So?” Mrs. Appleby stood next to Susanna. “How far along is she?”

  Rosie watched the tattooed woman raise her hands then point to her fingers.

  “Ah…almost three months in. As I suspected. So it’ll still be small, dear, and easy enough to deliver.”

  Rosie hurriedly pushed her skirts down and sat up. She had seen Catherine’s baby emerge into the world, a few weeks early but healthy and strong. Could she really force her own child to make an early entrance, one that would surely destroy its chances of survival? Would it be alive as it was born? Or would they give her something to stop its heart before she gave birth? This could be the only child she would ever conceive.

  She wiped at the tears that trickled down her cheeks. She was expected to destroy the thing she had longed for, yearned for, dreamed of. To murder the living being that came from her coupling with Joshua in love, in passion and in trust.

  As she stood, she caught Susanna watching her intently. The woman’s brown eyes were filled with something warm and kind. Compassion. And it hurt to see it. For right now, Rosie didn’t feel that she deserved it. She didn’t deserve it at all.

  * * * *

  Joshua rode into Virginia City at Kenan Duggan’s side. Matthew and Emmett had remained at the homestead to watch over Catherine and the baby, as well as to keep things in order there.

  “So where do you think we should start?” Kenan gestured at the town.

  “Where would Rosie be likely to go? Does she know anyone here?”

  “She’s acquainted with a few folks, but she didn’t have any close friends here,” Kenan replied. “Guess we just work our way around and ask if anyone has seen her. You start at the far end, I’ll start at the saloon and we can meet up in the middle.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Joshua dug his heels into his mare.

  By noon, they had asked everyone they could find if they’d seen Rosie but it seemed that nobody had. Joshua knew that with her slender frame, amber eyes and sleek black hair, she’d be bound to attract attention. The thought made his guts churn.

  “She can’t have just vanished,” Kenan muttered, a small muscle in his jaw twitching as he watched the people milling along the busy main street. “I can’t believe I’m going through this again. First Catherine and now Rosie.”

  Vanished. The word pierced Joshua’s chest like an arrow. She might well have vanished. Could be that someone had taken her. Like Catherine, who had been missing for over two years. This must be really hard for Kenan. First his intended, and now his twin sister. And as for Joshua himself…how would he cope without Rosie? How could he live knowing that she was out there somewhere, maybe hurt, scared, alone and wanting him to rescue her?

  “Could be she took the stagecoach.” Joshua thought it was unlikely but who knew how desperate Rosie had been. Perhaps she even suspected that they’d come looking for her so she’d decided to go farther away. Perhaps. Please let it be that. The alternatives were too awful to contemplate. He was helpless and it wasn’t a feeling he liked at all.

  “So we try the next town?” Kenan’s eyes were screwed up against the sun glare but even so, Joshua could see the pain etched on his face. The worry seemed to have aged him overnight and this morning he was unshaven and unkempt. Not like Kenan at all.

  “Yeah. Let’s try Nevada City,” Joshua replied.

  All he could do was hope that they would find Rosie there. If she’d gone even farther, their chances of locating her would get slimmer. It was a dangerous world and the longer Rosie was out there alone, the higher the possibility that she would get hurt. A sensation built inside him like some sort of internal tornado. It picked up strength and speed and he feared that it would burst out of his mouth in a deafening roar if he didn’t find Rosie soon. He had to keep moving, had to believe that this would have a good outcome.

  “We will do, but I think we should return to the homestead first. She might have come back.” Kenan chewed at his lip.

  “She might have. In fact, she most probably has!” Joshua allowed hope to bubble in his belly. The idea of returning to the homestead to find Rosie there lifted his heart and made it soar into the clouds. If they got back to find his beloved there, he would grab hold of her and never, ever let her go. He would darned well make her marry him and no more nonsense about it. She was his and they belonged together.

  The thought put energy into his body and he spurred his horse onward. They had to get to back to the homestead as quickly as possible. He ached to hold his woman in his arms, to know that she was safe and well. The thought that she might not be there danced ominously at the back of his mind and he willed it to quiet down. If she wasn’t at home, then they would head out to the next town and the next until they found her. Joshua knew that he would never give up. So a trip to Nevada City was a possibility.

  Rosie’s life might depend upon it. His life depende
d upon finding her.

  But until he knew if she was at the homestead, he would put his fears on hold.

  Chapter Ten

  Rosie rolled over on the narrow bed. She’d been unable to fall asleep until the early hours and had endured a restless night. The sunlight stealing through the curtains told her that it was past noon. No one at Mrs. Appleby’s had tried to wake her, but she suspected that they were all still asleep. Judging by their noisy nocturnal activities, they would need to rest until well into the afternoon. Throughout the night, Rosie had heard a variety of male visitors coming and going, their heavy footsteps on the stairs and their muffled grunts and groans in the adjacent rooms were difficult to ignore. She had lain in her bed, stiff with fear that one of the men might try her door. But she had been spared that indignity.

  Rosie sat up and threw her legs over the edge of the straw mattress. There it was again—the horrible queasy feeling. But now she knew why she was experiencing it. Catherine had spoken of it during her pregnancy, but it had ceased when she reached her four month mark and she had bloomed as her body had swelled. Rosie hunched over and dry wretched. Her own body would know no such joy. It would never swell with fertility and femininity. It would never stretch as the child grew inside her or produce milk to feed that child.

  She glanced at the dresser. It was still there. That small jar which held the concoction prepared by Susanna. The poison that would destroy the baby she had created with Joshua.

  Susanna had gestured to Mrs. Appleby how and when Rosie should ingest the paste, but it was clear that Mrs. Appleby was familiar with the routine, that she had taken it herself and knew how it would work. As they had left the small, gloomy cabin, Susanna had grabbed Rosie’s arm and stared at her. It had unnerved Rosie, the intensity in the brown eyes and the tight pinching of the woman’s fingers in her sensitive flesh. The midwife had pointed at Rosie’s stomach and at her arms and made a rocking motion whilst smiling. Rosie shook her head in confusion, so Susanna had mimed placing the invisible a baby on the ground then run her fingers down her cheeks to suggest tears.

  “She’s telling you to be sure before you do this,” Mrs. Appleby had explained. “Because once that baby’s out, you can’t change what you’ve done. She seems to think that you’re not certain about this, dear. You must be. Otherwise…”

  Otherwise. But there was no otherwise. No alternative. Rosie had gotten herself in the family way and had no husband to support her. Though she knew in her heart that Kenan and Catherine would help her, no matter what, she dared not bring the shame of a bastard child to the Duggan homestead. They had all endured enough over recent years, and she would not add to their troubles. If she did this now, got rid of the child and spared it from a life that would certainly be harsh and definitely unfair, then she could return to her family and remain there, placing each day between her and the terrible knowledge of what she had done. Keeping it to herself so that nobody else ever had to know about it.

  This was the right thing to do. Wasn’t it?

  It will be my deep, dark secret. My pain. My sacrifice. My shame.

  She stood and reached out to the dresser then picked up the small jar and removed the lid. As she raised her trembling hand, she took a deep breath. This was the best thing to do in a bad situation. She had made the mess, so it was up to her to clean it up.

  Even if it broke her heart.

  * * * *

  Joshua tethered his horse next to Kenan’s outside the Nevada City General Store. The main street was quiet in the late afternoon, apart from a few miners on their way to wash up.

  “I’m gonna ask inside if anyone has seen Rosie. You keep an eye on the horses. I’m not sure about this place. It don’t feel right.”

  Joshua nodded at Kenan. He knew what he meant. They were used to Virginia City, as well as other cattle towns that they’d stopped in whilst herding his father’s prized beasts along the trails, but there had been trouble in Nevada City a while back and it felt as if folks were still recovering. There was an edge to the place that he didn’t like. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he was tense, ready to spring into action if necessary.

  What if Rosie was here? His stomach churned. She might well have gotten hurt in a place like this. If anyone had laid their hands on her then he’d just…

  Kenan appeared at his side. “Man in there said there was a stagecoach came in day before yesterday. Said there were a few young women on it…his son’s friend commented on them being comely and all. I asked if they’d said anything about a slim, black-haired woman and he called his son from out the back. He seemed to recall a woman fitting Rosie’s description—actually claimed she resembled me somewhat—but said…”

  “What is it?” Joshua’s heart thundered.

  “She was taken to a local boarding house.”

  “A boarding house?”

  Kenan frowned and Joshua shuddered at the darkness that passed over his features. “It’s a cathouse run by a soiled dove named Mrs. Appleby.”

  “What in the hell is Rosie doin’ going to a cathouse?”

  “If it was Rosie.”

  “Where is this place?”

  “Just along the main street. Small, he said, built onto another building.”

  “Well, let’s check it out.”

  “Joshua…”

  “Yeah.”

  “Try to stay calm. I know how hard it is. I’m mad as a hornet at the thought of what could’ve happened, but I’ve been in a similar situation before and it helps to keep a cool head.”

  “Sure.” Joshua lifted his hat and pushed his hair back from his forehead then settled his Stetson back into place. He’d keep a cool head as long as that calico queen hadn’t allowed any harm to come to his Rosie.

  * * * *

  Rosie stuffed her belongings back into her bag then reached beneath the mattress. She pulled out the parcel containing Kenan’s money and tucked it back under her corset. She tried not to touch her stomach, not wanting to acknowledge the decision she had made earlier that day. It was something she would deal with later. Right now, all she wanted was to go home. But she knew that she would need to wait until morning. There was a stage due into Nevada City early the next day and she intended to be on it. But for now, she was ready.

  The house was still quiet. Mrs. Appleby and the other women had not yet surfaced, but Rosie felt sure that they would do soon. They would, no doubt, be hungry. She decided to head down to the kitchen to make them a farewell meal. Though not companions she would choose to reside with, the women had been understanding and tolerant of her, if not all as kind as Mrs. Appleby. But then, their lives were not as happy as Rosie’s had been. And she could see that now. She had always loved her life, adored being surrounded by her brothers then by Catherine and the baby, but falling in love with Joshua had somehow unsettled that, as if reminding her of what she might be missing. It had made her long for something that she hadn’t previously wanted or even needed. But that side of her life was over, she had confirmed that when she had risen at noon, and now she was ready to embrace her life back at the Duggan homestead.

  Whatever it might bring.

  She padded quietly down the stairs and headed through the small front parlor and into the kitchen area. The fire had gone out so she set about lighting it then made coffee and started to prepare supper. The simple act brought memories of all the times she had made supper for her family rushing back and she smiled, her heart lifted by the thought that soon she would be home again. She wouldn’t die alone in a strange place. She wouldn’t leave her family wondering what had happened to her, suffering that terrible fate of never knowing where she was or if she had needed them.

  Just then, a sound came from the front of the house. A tapping. There was someone at the door.

  What should she do? She could answer it, but it might be a gentleman caller seeking out one of Mrs. Appleby’s young women. What if he mistook her for one of them? She shuddered. How awful to be in a position whe
re you had to sell your body to a stranger, to allow a man to do those things that she had done with Joshua. She loved Joshua and had wanted his kisses, his caresses, and to feel him inside her, but to have a man you didn’t love touching you so intimately… It was more repugnant than she could articulate.

  The knocking came again. This time louder and more insistent. Whoever was out there, had no intention of going away. She had better deal with them before they woke the whole household.

  She made her way to the front door and opened it a crack, then gasped as she saw a familiar face.

  “Excuse me, ma’am…”

  Rosie opened the door wide and looked down at the man who had brought her to Mrs. Appleby’s following her arrival in Nevada City.

  “Yes?”

  “I thought you’d like to know that there are two men in town asking after ya.”

  “Two men?” Rosie’s stomach lurched. Who was it likely to be? Kenan and one of her other brothers, probably.

  “Yeah…a real tall dark-haired one and another with fairer hair. I was over at the General store when the dark-haired one came in. Ya know, now I think about it, he actually looked a bit like you. But a bigger, male version, of course.” He laughed as if amused at his own comment. “Store owner told ‘em he thought you’d come here. So I’m giving you fair warning.” He eyed her as if suspecting her of being guilty of some crime that led her to be pursued. It made goosebumps rise on her skin, and she shivered as if someone had just stepped on her grave.

  “Oh. Thank you. That’s…um…very kind.” Rosie made to close the door but he continued to stand there. He wanted money. “Hold on.”

  She closed the door and slid a hand beneath her corset. She pulled out the parcel and quickly removed a coin before returning the rest of the money to its hiding place. When she opened the door again to hand over the money, the man’s face was ashen and he gestured over his shoulder. “Too late. Sorry!” He held out his hand and Rosie dropped the coin into it and watched as he lumbered off the porch and out into the street.