REMAINING WITH ROSE
“Are you afraid of me, Rose?” Morgan asked.
She shook her head. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you didn’t answer my question.”
She blinked, but her eyes remained on his. “What question?”
“Do you want Clay to ride with you?”
Her eyes drifted to his mouth, then to the dimple in his chin. “I know you’ve been away from the ranch a long time, and you must have a lot of work needing your attention.”
“Answer my question, Rose.”
“You’ve been so kind to look after me, and I’ve inconvenienced you enough.”
Why wouldn’t she answer him? He leaned over and braced his arm on the other side of her, forcing the feather mattress to dip under his weight. “You haven’t inconvenienced me. If you want Clay to ride with you, I’ll leave with my men.”
She didn’t want him to leave, yet there was that nagging voice reminding her he was the man who wanted to hang her brother. Her conscience wouldn’t allow her to forget Frankie. If not for Frankie, she might tell him what she wanted to say. She couldn’t deny she was attracted to Morgan, and she wanted to be with him as long as possible, but by saying those words she felt she would be betraying her brother.
Morgan didn’t know why he kept asking the question. Her evasiveness gave him his answer. He shouldn’t care. It didn’t make sense why he was drawn to her. She didn’t say a word, so he straightened and turned to the door. “I’ll see you in Whispering Pines.”
As he took one step toward the door, Rose said, “I don’t want you to go . . .”
Books by Scarlett Dunn
The McBride Brothers Trilogy
PROMISES KEPT
FINDING PROMISE
LAST PROMISE
The Langtry Sisters Trilogy
WHISPERING PINES
CHRISTMAS AT DOVE CREEK
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
WHISPERING PINES
The Langtry, Sisters
SCARLETT DUNN
ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
REMAINING WITH ROSE
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Teaser chapter
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2017 by Barbara Scarlett Dunn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4201-4448-2
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4449-9
eISBN-10: 1-4201-4449-9
In loving memory of Jim Morgan—We will see you again.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I thank God for the many wonderful people He has placed in my path. I feel very blessed for the God-incidences every day.
Michael, I am inspired by your courage and tenacity, and I am thankful for your constant support. You have blessed my life beyond measure.
It has been a pleasure getting to know Shauna Johnson, and I thank you for your time and valuable feedback.
A big thank-you to Joey Judd for answering all of my questions. Always good to know a fireman.
Prologue
Colorado Territory, 1865
“Look at the pinecones we found, Granny.” Pushing her plate aside, Rose emptied her woven basket over the kitchen table, scattering her treasures for her grandmother to see. She had been outside all morning with her two older sisters, Adelaide and Emma, searching for the perfect pinecones to add to their Christmas decorations.
Granny placed the platter of sandwiches she’d made for lunch on the table, and picked up one of the larger pinecones. She held it up and examined it closely. “Oh my, these are beautiful. They will be very pretty on our wreaths. Were you on Mr. LeMasters’s ranch?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Emma, the eldest granddaughter, answered. “But we were just in the pines on the boundary, not near any of his cattle.”
Morgan LeMasters owned the large ranch along the boundary of their small farm. Fortunately, she knew Morgan wouldn’t mind the girls exploring on his land as long as they were careful around the longhorns. “That’s fine as long as you don’t get in the way of the men working the cattle. We will make Mr. LeMasters a pretty wreath for his door since the pinecones came from his land. You girls can take it to him tomorrow.”
Rose’s eyes widened at her grandmother’s suggestion. “We’ll make him a wreath, Granny, but you can take it to him. He scares us.” Rose made it a point to steer clear of Mr. LeMasters whenever she saw him. Her oldest brother, Frankie, told her Morgan LeMasters was Satan himself, and she should stay away from him no matter what Granny said. Rose adored Frankie, and she believed everything he told her. But she didn’t need Frankie to tell her that Mr. LeMasters was big and fierce looking. Every Sunday he sat directly behind her family in church, and she would always turn around and stare at the darkly ominous man. Her grandfather’s sermons were often filled with stories about Satan, warning his parishioners to be aware of his presence, or they would face dire consequences. Rose could never understand why her grandfather allowed Satan in their church.
Granny smiled at her youngest granddaughter. Rose reminded her of a fairy with her large eyes, delicate facial features, and small frame. While the other children had auburn hair and blue eyes, Rose had inherited her great-grandmother’s light blond hair and unique green eyes. She was a remarkably striking child, destined to become a beautiful woman. But it wasn’t only Rose’s lovely face that drew everyone to her; she was also blessed with a warm, caring heart for one of such tender years.
It puzzled Granny why Rose was so afraid of Morgan LeMasters. The child never expressed fear; it was quite the opposite. She was such an inquisitive child that Granny often had to caution her to act with care. “Morgan is a very nice young man. You have nothing to fear from h
im.”
Rose didn’t respond; her thoughts had already skittered back to her treasures. She picked up the smallest pinecone, and thinking it was shaped like a tiny tree, she stood it on its base. She arranged the remaining pinecones around the first one, creating a small forest on the tabletop. As she concentrated on her task, she thought about what she’d heard in the forest that morning. “I heard songs in the pines today, Granny. They sound as pretty as the songs Emma sings.”
“I heard people laughing,” Addie said, reaching for a sandwich.
“They were singing. I think angels were singing prayers,” Rose insisted.
Granny sat beside Rose and ran her hand down her small back. “What do you mean, they were singing prayers?”
“Like the prayers we say in church, but the angels sing them. We tried to find the people, but we didn’t see anyone. Why do they hide from us, Granny?” Rose asked.
Granny pushed the platter of sandwiches toward Emma. “Have a sandwich.”
Emma grabbed a sandwich, and Granny slid the plate in front of Rose.
Under her grandmother’s watchful gaze, Rose reluctantly picked up a sandwich and placed it on her plate. Out of habit, she began to pull off the crust. She wanted to remove the ham too, but she knew Granny would kick up a fuss. Granny was forever telling her she needed to eat more.
Granny fretted that Rose didn’t eat enough to stay healthy, and no matter what schemes she employed, nothing could persuade her to eat more. “Honey, I told you the crust makes you pretty.”
“Then she doesn’t need to eat it,” Emma said as she snatched the tossed-aside crust from Rose’s plate and shoved it in her mouth. “Everyone says Rose is the prettiest girl they have ever seen.” Emma spoke without a hint of jealousy. The sisters were crazy about each other, and the older girls always looked out for their younger sister.
Rose giggled at her sister’s antics, but she hadn’t forgotten her question. “Why do the singing angels hide from us, Granny?”
“There isn’t anyone singing in the pines, Rose,” Granny replied.
“But I hear them,” Rose said.
“Emma and I hear people laughing. Come with us so you can hear them, Granny,” Addie suggested.
“I’ve been in there many times, and I think the wind blowing through the leaves sounds like wind chimes,” Granny told them.
Emma expelled a loud sigh. “Granny, you are coming with us the next time. Then you will hear for yourself that someone is in there.”
“Girls, you know Joseph Longbow, the man who works for Mr. LeMasters?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the girls responded at the same time.
“Well, Joseph told me that the pines on Mr. LeMasters’s ranch is a special place where the four winds converge. He says it is where his people hear the voices of their great spirits who have passed away.” Joseph had explained the legend of the pines to her when she first moved to the farm.
Rose quickly swallowed the bite she’d just taken. “You mean his family in heaven talk to him?”
“You mean Joseph talks to dead people?” Emma asked.
Granny couldn’t keep from smiling. Leave it to Emma to get right to the point. She was the most direct child with a no-nonsense attitude. “You know how you girls talk to your parents in heaven at night when you pray?”
The girls nodded.
“Well, that land is where Joseph Longbow talks to his loved ones. The Sioux have a special connection to the land. Joseph said the pines are where his ancestors offered praise to their creator. Church is our special place where we worship God.”
“Granny, dead people can’t talk or sing. There are people laughing,” Addie said.
“Granny is just trying to scare us. I know people are in there,” Emma said adamantly. She was too old to believe in ghost stories, and she was surprised Granny was trying to scare her younger sisters.
“I would never try to scare you girls. Joseph said that it’s the heavenly sounds where the winds come together in the trees. He says different people hear different things, and only people pure of heart hear the pleasing sounds.”
“What do bad people hear when they go in the pines?” Rose asked.
“I’m not sure what they hear, but Joseph said they get scared and leave. They never come back.” Granny didn’t dare tell the girls the many stories told of men who had disappeared or died in that spiritual place. Joseph Longbow told her the girls had nothing to fear if they wandered through the pines. The range of pine trees covered thousands of acres, and she didn’t mind the girls exploring as long as they didn’t go too far and get lost.
Rose and Addie exchanged a look. “I’m glad we are good girls,” Addie said.
“What does Mr. LeMasters hear?” Rose asked. If he was Satan, like Frankie said, why wasn’t he afraid to ride through the pines? Her grandfather said Satan was bad, so she imagined he heard terrible things in the pines.
Granny furrowed her brow, trying to recall if she’d ever asked Morgan about the pines. “I don’t think he’s ever said. Why do you ask?”
Rose shrugged her small shoulders. “He’s always riding through there. Do you think he’s afraid?”
Granny smiled at her. “I don’t think Morgan is afraid of much.”
Rose looked out the window in the direction of the LeMasters ranch and the vast area of land covered with the massive pine trees. “Sometimes I hear whispers when I go in there with Frankie.”
Chapter One
And I beheld, and lo a black horse; and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his hand.
—Revelation 6:5
Kansas, 1876
“Throw your ropes over those trees.” Morgan LeMasters pointed to the trees with limbs he deemed sturdy enough not to snap under dead weight. Morgan, and the four men riding with him, were somber, taking no delight in what was about to take place, but they were determined it had to be done. For the last month, they’d chased these men from Colorado, winding through New Mexico Territory, the Panhandle, and finally into Kansas. The band of thieves had splintered into two groups, and Morgan and his men had finally captured four members of the gang. Today was the reckoning.
Morgan’s men pulled their ropes from their saddle horns and fashioned the hangman’s noose. After they threw the ropes over the limbs, they led the captives to their fate. One of the men ducked and weaved in his saddle, evading the noose Hank Murphy tried to place over his head.
“I keep telling you, LeMasters, we didn’t do nothing wrong. We bought these horses fair and square,” Frank Langtry yelled.
Hank didn’t utter a word. He grasped the outlaw’s neck in his large hand to prevent him from squirming about, looped the rope over his head, and tightened the noose.
“LeMasters, you can’t do this! You know my granny. What are you gonna say to her? I didn’t steal your horses, or rustle any cattle. You gonna tell her you hung me for no reason? You’ll kill her for certain.”
Directing his big black horse, Faithful, beside Frank, Morgan looked him in the eye. “Yeah, I know you, Frank, and you’ve been nothing but trouble most of your miserable life. Show me a bill of sale and I’ll take you back to Denver. You can sit in jail until the territorial judge decides what to do with you.” Morgan knew there was no way Frank could produce a bill of sale. One of his men had recognized Frank from a distance rustling his cattle, and Frank shot him. Fortunately, he hadn’t killed him, and Morgan had a trusted eyewitness this time.
Frank was right about one thing: Morgan knew he’d break Granny Langtry’s heart when he’d have to tell her he’d hung her eldest grandson. She was a sweet old woman, with the kindest heart he’d ever seen. But he’d warned Granny about Frank’s unlawful activities, and he hadn’t minced words when he’d told her what he intended to do when he caught up with Frank. He should have killed Frank years ago and spared everyone a lot of years of heartache.
“They didn’t give us a bill of sale. You know how it is,” Frank said.
“No, I don’t know
how it is.” Morgan recognized Frank for what he was, a no-account thief who had been lucky evading the law, until now. Even Granny Langtry admitted her grandson skirted the law. While they both agreed on Frank’s shortcomings, Granny preferred that the Good Lord handle Frank’s comeuppance, but there was no way Morgan was going to wait for that day to come. He’d had enough. Today he was judge, jury, and executioner.
While Morgan waited for the rope to go around the fourth man’s neck, he looked out over the landscape. It was just past dawn and the sun peeking over the horizon created glorious rays of color in the morning sky. Too bad we have to hang men on such a beautiful morning. He turned to face his men and was about to give the nod, but was distracted by the sound of horses coming down the trail. He held up his hand for his men to wait.
“Stagecoach,” Hank said.
Morgan looked around and shook his head. He was so tired, he hadn’t even realized they were only about thirty feet off the stagecoach trail. He muttered a string of colorful words in irritation. A hanging was not something he enjoyed, but he couldn’t abide cattle rustling or horse thieves. He figured he needed to make a statement with Frank Langtry, or he would have more of his ilk trying him in the future. When Langtry and his men chose this profession they knew what would happen when they were caught. It was the cowboy code, and Morgan didn’t want an audience of greenhorns who wouldn’t understand.
“You best let them see you so they don’t get the wrong idea,” Hank suggested. Morgan’s name was well-known in the territory, and if the stagecoach driver didn’t recognize him by sight, he was certain to have heard his name.
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