Langley’s innocent, freckled face suddenly filled with sadness and he dropped his gaze to his boots. “My pa died,” he said quietly. “But I guess you already knew that.
Marston felt a tugging in his chest that he chalked up to stress. It couldn’t be anything else after dealing with the over-talkative boy. Then Marston uttered three little words. “Are you okay?” The question shocked him because he genuinely seemed to care about the answer.
Marston had never once given a thought to someone else’s feelings, but he wanted the boy to be alright. Damn, that whiskey must be messing with his senses.
‘Or maybe you’re finally growing a heart.’
Great. The voice was back.
“I’m okay I guess,” Langley replied. Marston shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus his attention on the boy. “I never knew my pa so I really can’t miss him, I guess. I’m worried about my mama though. I heard her crying a lot last night and this morning she never even ate any breakfast. She tries to hide things from me, but I can tell something’s wrong with her.”
Marston grunted and shrugged one shoulder. “Bad things happen, kid. There’s no point wasting time feeling sorry for yourself or worrying,” he snapped more roughly than he should have.
Langley nodded and crossed his arms over his thin chest as if to shield himself. Rose chose then to step out of the mercantile and when her eyes caught sight of them she headed their way.
Marston realized the boy was right. Rose was in bad shape. Dark splotches surrounded her eyes and her face was ghastly pale. Her lips were nearly colorless and her shoulders were slumped. The woman looked as if the weight of the entire world was resting on her and she was plumb worn out from packing it around.
Oh well. It wasn’t his problem and it wasn’t his business. He had enough of his own worries without adding hers to them.
“They’ll have the supplies ready shortly,” she addressed them both. “Come along now, Langley. We have to go down to the docs and pay the credit there.”
Marston didn’t say a word. He just turned and walked away. Rose watched him go and wondered what his story was. It wasn’t a good one, if she had to guess but, then again, neither was hers.
***
Marston came out of the livery with his gray a short time later and, much to his irritation, he found his eyes once again drawn toward the mercantile and to Rose and Langley. It seemed they were once again arguing with Hattie and Hester.
“Stop being mean to my mama!” Langley exclaimed.
Marston let out a sigh of defeat. He slid onto the gray’s back and made his way to the boardwalk at the side of the mercantile where they were currently standing.
“What seems to be the problem ladies?” he asked.
Four sets of eyes turned to look up at him. Rose noticed that once again his face was predatory and cold—different than it had been the day before. When he addressed the sisters a smile curved his lips but it wasn’t a true smile. It was cold and calculating and Rose preferred the rough and more honest way that he had been at her cabin.
“They have all her supplies just sitting out here!” Langley informed him, pointing at the large pile of goods sitting on the boardwalk. “But they refuse to let the man who usually loads carts load mama’s and she can’t lift all that on her own.”
Marston’s golden eyes narrowed slightly. “Why is that?” he asked the sisters.
“Loading costs extra,” Hester replied with a sneer.
Rose flushed with shame and embarrassment. The fact of the matter was that she didn’t have the extra money to pay for loading—and they’d never charged for loading before. She needed what little bit of Langston’s money she had left to get through the upcoming winter.
Hattie and Hester were simply doing this to be spiteful. They were wanting to milk every dime they could out of her because they knew that soon she’d be back to buying things on a credit she couldn’t pay back.
“How much extra?” Marston asked, crossing his arms over his saddle horn and leaning forward.
“One dollar,” Hattie informed him.
Marston reached in his pocket and pulled out a few coins that Rose knew would add up to what they were asking for. Hester’s eyes widened as she stared up at him and then held out her hand to expect the payment. Marston’s grin turned colder as he closed his fist and shoved the money back in his pocket.
“Can’t see wasting a good dollar just to load some supplies in a cart,” he admitted with a shake of his head.
Rose felt her heart fall. She had thought for a moment… but no. She had no right to expect anything from Marston. The man had done quite enough and requesting his charity would be rude.
“The supplies will stay here then,” Hester snapped, her cheeks sucking further into her jaw.
“Like hell they will,” Marston grumbled as he jumped from his horses and landed like a panther on the ground below. “That would be a waste of good corn meal.”
With a grunt, Marston hoisted one fifty pound sack of flour onto his shoulder and tossed into the cart before reaching down for another. “What are you doing?” Rose asked cautiously.
“Loading your damn cart,” he growled.
Rose realized that charming façade he’d attempted in front of the sisters was now gone. Langley was grinning ear to ear as he loaded the smaller goods into the cart as well.
“Her husband is still warm in his grave and she’s already moved on to the next one,” Hester whispered harshly to Hattie as the two woman made their way back to the door. Rose was thankful that Langley hadn’t seemed to hear the comment, but she could tell that Marston had, by the way, his eyes burned holes into the sister’s retreating backs.
Rose quickly pitched in to help Marston and soon the loading was done. Rose could only hope and pray that these supplies would last them a good long time. She wished there was enough money to hire someone to make repairs to the cabin and outbuildings, but that would simply have to wait. Rose didn’t want to spend every single dime that Langston had sent to them.
“Thank you for the help,” Rose offered once they were finished.
Marston pulled off his hat and wiped his sweaty brow on his shirt sleeve. “I told you to quit thanking me,” he growled. He plopped his hat back on and walked to the front of the cart. He held his hand out toward her and Rose frowned. Marston rolled his eyes skyward. “I was gonna help you on the damn cart unless you’d rather just do it yourself.”
Rose flushed and quickly made her way to him. She hadn’t wanted to appear rude. It had been ten long years since a man had helped her into a cart and Rose hadn’t been expecting Marston to offer.
She laid her hand in his and their eyes locked. Blue and gold met and warred with an intensity that shocked them both. Rose had never felt this kind of shock or awareness when touched by any other man. After what had happened to her all those years ago, the thought of being touched by any man had always filled her with uncontrollable fear and unreasonable terror.
The feel of Marston’s big, calloused hand wrapped around hers caused her to feel anything but afraid.
Rose was still trying to wrap her head around what was happening when Marston jerked her arm and hoisted her up onto the cart. He released her quickly as if she’d scolded him and wiped his hand on his pants as stomped over to his horse.
“I’ll come with you,” he stated, never meeting her gaze. “You’ll need help unloading everything.”
Rose smoothed out her skirt and took the reins in her hand as she nodded. Her brain couldn’t seem to form words and so she said nothing. Langley clambered up into the cart beside her and the trio started down the long road to the cabin.
Chapter Six
Unloading the supplies didn’t take long and Marston knew it was time for him to be moving on. He made his way to the gray and was preparing to hoist himself into the saddle when Langley came barreling out of the barn.
“Mama! Patty is gone!”
Rose came out of the house and Marston
noticed instantly that she had removed her bonnet and her long red curls were in a long braid hanging down her back. Marston’s hand still burned from her touch and that unnerved hm. Damn, he wanted to lay with her.
But that couldn’t happen. Not only because he still didn’t complete trust a woman who would marry such an old man but also because that voice in his head kept saying crazy things about how he was starting to care about the woman and her annoying son.
“Who’s Patty?” Marston asked.
Rose sighed. “Our horse.”
“That skinny nag that was in the corral yesterday?”
“Yes. She must have escaped the corral.”
Marston snorted. “Not much of a corral to speak of.”
Rose’s blue eyes flashed with temper reminding him of yesterday when she had held him at gunpoint. “We do the best we can!” she snapped.
“Mama, we have to find, Patty!” Langley insisted. “She’s lost and scared.”
Marston grumbled under his breath and tried to turn his back on them. Not his problem. Not his problem. Not his problem. These people were not his problem.
“I’ll find your damn horse,” he muttered, before swinging himself into the saddle and heading off into the woods, following the horse tracks in the muddy ground.
He didn’t to travel too far before he found her. “There you are, you flea-bitten old hag,” he grumbled as he jumped to the ground. Her halter had gotten tangled on a branch and she was just too old and weak to do much about it.
Marston crossed the wet ground and held up his hands when the mare tossed her head nervously. “It’s alright, girl,” he purred gently. “I won’t hurt you.”
Only with animals did Marston ever let his softer side show. He’d had a soft spot for critters ever since he’d been a young boy. He had once found a kitten when he’d been a boy. The kitten had been starving and cold and so he’d brought it back to the orphanage with him. He had hidden it in his dresser and snuck it milk and water. Each and every night, he would get that kitten out of the drawer and it would curl up to him and purr.
He had loved that smelly, skinny, ugly feline.
Then the headmaster had discovered it and had laughed at the pathetic excuse for a cat. In an attempt to assert his dominance with the children and teach them not to hide things from him, the headmaster had bashed that tiny kittens head open against the brick wall beside Marston’s bed.
Marston had learned an important lesson that day about life and death. Weak meant dead. Marston would be damned before he ever let himself be seen as soft or weak. The minute you got soft, someone slammed your head against a wall and put your brains on display for the world to see.
Marston grabbed the mare’s halter and broke off the branch it was tangled on. He rubbed her thin head to help soothe her and led her over to his gray. He used his rope to secure the horses together before using his hands to check the mare’s body for injuries. Other than being terribly malnourished, the horse seemed to be fine.
He wondered what in the world had spooked her into leaving the safety of her corral.
As if on cue, the gray and the mare both perked their heads up and began sidestepping as they tossed their heads. Marston’s senses sharpened and he heard a twig snap just before a terrible growling filled the air. He turned just in time to see the coyote lunged at him.
Marston threw his arm over his face to protect himself and the coyotes teeth sank deep into his flesh. Marston was faintly aware of the horses making a run for it as he brought his fist down upon the coyote’s ribs. The best let out a whimper and released him.
Marston pulled his gun just in time to shoot a second coyote that was preparing to lunge. He heard a noise behind him and turned but couldn’t aim his revolver in time to stop the third coyote’s attack. It sank its teeth into his leg and Marston let out a howl of pain before bringing his gun down hard against its head, shattering its skull.
Before he could recover from that attack two more beasts were on him. Marston lost his footing on the slick ground and fell backward, striking his head against a rock. It felt as if an explosion had taken place inside his skull. He felt consciousness failing him as teeth sank into his shoulder.
The blow to his head was making everything fuzzy and the world was fading in and out. Marston nearly laughed when another coyote took a chunk out of his thigh. He pulled his knife and sliced out blindly, feeling the smallest bit of satisfaction when he heard the cry of pain—but he knew it wouldn’t be enough.
He was about to lose his hold on consciousness and then he’d be a goner. An entire lifetime spent not giving a damn about anyone and now he was going to die because he’d decided to help someone for the first time.
The two remaining coyotes suddenly took off into the woods, obviously deciding that this meal was fighting back a bit too hard. Two coyotes lay dead next to him, but Marston felt no thrill of victory.
He was in terrible pain, bit to pieces, bleeding like crazy and about to pass out. He was a dead man. Marston closed his eyes and the world went dark.
***
“It sure is taking Marston a long time to get back with Patty, mama,” Langley noted as he walked up to the chicken coop.
Rose nodded, but her attention was on the hens she was feeding. She hoped that now that they’d be getting regular meals once again, the hens would get back to laying eggs. It had been a long time since they’d had fresh eggs for breakfast.
“Do you think something happened, mama? Maybe he got lost. Or maybe Patty is hurt!” the ten-year-old exclaimed, his wild imagination no doubt painting lots of pictures in his mind.
“I’m sure everything is fine, Langley,” Rose assured him as she moved to the washtub she’d filled up with water and began scrubbing at the stains in Langley’s shirt.
She had changed into her worn blue gingham work dress that was fraying at the seams and she wiped her brow on her sleeve before blowing a loose strand of red hair from her face. She wished for just one day the work could all be done.
“I’m sure you’re right, mama. After all, he does seem like the kind of man who can take care of himself, doesn’t he mama? Doesn’t he seem like that kind of man to you?”
Rose nodded. Marston definitely seemed like that kind of man to her.
“You know it could be nice to have a man like that around here. To help with all the chores and stuff, wouldn’t it mama? A man like that could help fix things back up.”
Rose watched her son gather up some wood from the box beside the cabin. “Marston isn’t staying here, Langley. He has his own life he needs to be getting back to. Hopefully next summer we’ll be able to hire someone to come and fix things up.”
“If it stays standing ‘til next summer,” Langley grumbled.
“What did you say?” Rose snapped, her gaze narrowing.
“Nothing mama!” Langley quickly raced into the house to deposit his armload.
Rose heaved out a sigh as she gave up on getting the stains out of Langley’s shirt and tossed it over into her basket. If Rose were being completely honest, she’d tell her son that yes, it would be nice to have a man like Marston around.
Rose had been on her own for ten long years. She had lived in this house with Langston for nearly nine months before he’d been taken away and while they had never lived as true husband and wife, they had been friends. Rose missed that the most. She missed having a friend. She missed having another adult around to help carry the load—and with Marston’s broad shoulders, he could certainly handle quite a bit of the load.
Rose smiled at the foolishness of her thoughts. Marston was clearly a man with a dark past and many demons. More importantly, he didn’t seem to have any interest in staying around. As a matter of fact, he seemed annoyed that he’d been pulled into doing what he had.
Rose couldn’t shake the memory of what his touch had felt like against her hand. The thought of sharing a bed with any man terrified her, Rose couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him
sit beside her on the sofa at night. She wondered what it would mean to her to have him beside her in the firelight and talking about the day. How safe and protected would she feel with his strong arm around her? Rose sighed wistfully, knowing her dreams were pointless but enjoying them anyway.
Her daydreams were suddenly interrupted by something large trampling through the woods. Rose was preparing to run to the house to grab the rifle when Marston’s gray came into the clearing. Patty was secured to the other horse, but they were alone. There was no rider in sight.
“Marston?” Rose called, rushing to the horses and grabbing the gray’s reins. Panic clutched at her heart, but she forced it back down. Panic would not help a single thing. Marston had to be fine. Rose needed a friend so he had to be fine.
“Why are the horses back without Marston?” Langley asked as he stepped out onto the porch.
Rose glanced back at him. “I’m sure it’s nothing. You go back in the house and lock the door. Keep the rifle handy just in case.”
Langley nodded and did as she said and she couldn’t help but feel proud of the young man she was raising. She waited until he was in the house and then led the skinny mare to the barn and secured her inside, giving her a handful of oats.
Rose stepped back outside and looked at the gray. The horse was massive. It took her several tries but finally she managed to get herself up in the saddle. Never before had Rose ridden a horse this broad and tall but with Marston’s size, she figured a horse this large was a necessity.
As rose followed the muddy tracks and broken branches into the forest, she prayed that she would find Marston alive and well. Surely God would not send such a blessing to her and Langley only to rip him away from them so quickly.
Her breath caught in her throat when she caught sight of dead coyotes ahead and then her heart stopped beating when she saw Marston lying motionless on the ground beside them.
Rose leaped from the horse and ran to him, falling to her knees on the damp forest floor. “Marston?” she whispered, running her hand over his beard covered cheek.
Give My Love to Rose Page 5