For the Roses

  Cole wouldn’t let her finish the complaint she was about to make. “For God’s sake, Mary Rose. Open the door.”

  “But I haven’t introduced you to Mr. MacDonald yet,” she protested.

  “I don’t need to meet him,” Cole muttered. “Douglas is waiting out front with the wagon. Just open the door.”

  Mary Rose didn’t seem to be at all affected by her brother’s surly tone of voice. She continued to smile up at Harrison and acted as if she had all the time in the world to talk to him. “My brother’s name is Cole Clayborne. He has a middle name, but he’s sensitive about it, and he’d kill me if I told you what it was. Cole, I’d like you to meet Mr. Harrison . . .”

  “Mary Rose, I swear to God I’m gonna drop this heavy sack of flour right on top of your head.”

  She let out a sigh. “My brother’s really very nice, sir, once you get to know him.”

  Harrison wasn’t convinced. Cole didn’t look like the sort who could ever be nice. The scowl on his face seemed to be a permanent fixture. Only one thing was certain. Mary Rose’s brother wasn’t going to wait much longer. Harrison decided he’d better hurry up and tell him about the ambush before the impatient man went storming through the closed door. He looked strong enough and irritated enough to do just that.

  “There’s a rifle trained on you,” he began. He kept his voice low so the other customers wouldn’t overhear him. “Whoever wants to shoot you is hiding in the pass-through across the street. I thought you might want to know.”

  Cole immediately lost his irritation. “You get a look at the fella?”

  Harrison shook his head. “I considered trying to shoot the rifle out of his hands, but the truth is, I only just purchased this gun and I haven’t tried it out yet. I probably would have ended up hurting someone.”

  “That’s the general idea,” Cole told him, his exasperation obvious in his tone of voice.

  “Sorry I couldn’t help you out,” Harrison said then. “But until I learn how accurate . . .”

  He let the sentence trail off uncompleted. He would let Mary Rose and her brother draw their own conclusions.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Mary Rose let out a little gasp. “You’re wearing a gun and you’ve never used it before?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He hadn’t had to lie to her again, but he hadn’t told her the truth either. He deliberately withheld pertinent information, knowing full well she would be led down the path he wanted her to take. The way he was manipulating her didn’t sit well with him. Still, he would do what was necessary in order to gain her confidence so he could find out what he needed to know, and since she took in the misfits, he concluded he would have to become one.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she asked him then.

  “I don’t believe so,” he answered.

  “Dear God, don’t you know any better than to walk around town armed? As big as you are, you’re bound to get into a fight. You’ll get yourself killed in no time at all. Is that what you want, Mr. MacDonald?”

  Her hands moved to her hips, and she was looking at him as though she thought he didn’t have a lick of sense. She reminded him of a teacher reprimanding one of her students. He never had any teachers who were this young or pretty though. Most were old and dusty and as dry as dead leaves.

  She was obviously concerned about him. Odd, but he liked the attention she was giving him. Being a misfit wasn’t going to be so terrible after all.

  Harrison tried to look worried. “No, ma’am. I don’t want to get killed. I want to learn how to use my new gun. I can’t do that, can I, if I keep it packed away.”

  Cole let out a loud sigh. Harrison immediately turned back to him. “Would you like me to carry that sack outside for you? I could put it in your wagon and go find the sheriff.”

  “We don’t have a sheriff in Blue Belle,” Mary Rose explained.

  Harrison didn’t have to pretend surprise. “Then who keeps the order here?”

  “No one,” she answered. “That’s why this town is such a dangerous place for someone like you. You were raised in the city, weren’t you, sir?”

  He tried not to chafe over the pity he heard in her voice. “Yes, as a matter of fact I was raised in the city. Please call me Harrison. Sir and mister are too formal for out here.”

  “Fine,” she agreed. “I’ll call you Harrison. Please take your gunbelt off. You really shouldn’t be wearing one. I’ll bet someone told you it was fashionable attire in our territory, didn’t he? Or did you read that it was?”

  “I read that it was necessary equipment.”

  She let out a sigh. “Oh, dear.”

  Cole had waited long enough. He leaned over, propped the sack of flour against the wall, stood back up, and then rolled his shoulders like a bear to get rid of the crick in the side of his neck.

  Harrison and Mary Rose moved out of his way when he reached for the door. Cole didn’t seem to be overly concerned about the ambush. He nudged his sister further away from the opening, took his gun out of his belt, and then opened the door just enough to let a crack of sunshine in.

  Douglas was waiting out front. Cole’s brother stood on the street, next to their wagon, leaning against a hitching post. He appeared to be sound asleep. Cole whistled to get his attention.

  Harrison watched Mary Rose. Her behavior puzzled him. The second her brother reached for his gun, she covered her ears with her hands and stared up at the ceiling with a resigned expression on her face.

  “Douglas, hit the ground.”

  Cole barked the command a scant second before he leaned out the doorway, took aim, and fired three rapid shots. The sound of exploding gunfire ricocheted around and around the store. The glass window shivered from the noise.

  As quick as lightning he put the gun back in his holster. “That ought to do it.”

  And then he picked up the sack of flour and strolled outside. His casual attitude was a little surprising, of course, but what most amazed Harrison was the fact that the majority of patrons inside the establishment weren’t showing the least bit of curiosity. If they thought it was peculiar for Cole Clayborne to fire his weapon out the doorway, they certainly weren’t letting it show. Did this sort of thing happen every day? Harrison was beginning to think that maybe it did.

  “Cole, you forgot to thank Harrison,” Mary Rose called out.

  “Thanks for the warning,” Cole dutifully called over his shoulder.

  His gratitude sounded shallow to her, but she didn’t take issue with her brother. She knew it was difficult for him to ever say thank you to anyone, and he must have found it grating indeed to know a stranger had saved his life.

  “Who was trying to ambush you, Cole?” she asked.

  “You’re welcome,” Harrison called out at the very same time.

  Cole tossed the sack of flour into the back of the wagon with the other supplies they’d already purchased, then turned to answer his sister’s question.

  “It was probably Webster. The son-of-a ...” He stopped himself before he completed the rest of his dark opinion of the vermin waiting to ambush him. “He was sore because I wouldn’t fight him last week. Guess I should have killed him then. He’ll only try again. I winged him though, so he’ll have to mend first. You about ready to leave, Mary Rose?”

  “In just a minute.”

  She turned back to Harrison. “It was very kind of you to warn my brother. He’s really very appreciative. It’s just difficult for him to show it. He doesn’t like owing anyone anything, even gratitude.”

  “Your brother doesn’t owe me gratitude. Anyone would have done what I did.”

  “I wish that were true,” she replied. “Perhaps in Scotland one neighbor helps another, but around Blue Belle, things are different.”

  He nodded, accepting what she told him as fact, and continued to stare at her while he tried to think of something else to talk about. It didn’t take him long to start feeling like a simpleton. She was slipping right through his fi
ngers, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to keep her near him for just a few more minutes.

  The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. He was a lawyer, for God’s sake, a man who spent his days debating, cajoling, and arguing in order to make a living, yet now he was speechless. If that wasn’t a contradiction, he didn’t know what was.

  Lord, she had lovely eyes.

  The second the thought popped into his head he realized he was in trouble. The young lady smiling so sweetly up at him was turning his mind into mush. He was thoroughly disgusted with himself. He knew better than to let a physical attraction get in the way of his plans.

  Mary Rose supposed she had lingered long enough. She didn’t want to go home just yet, however, and she told herself it was only because she was concerned about the kindhearted stranger.

  “I was wondering . . .”

  “Yes?” He blurted out the word like a little boy about to receive a gift.

  “Why do you want to learn how to shoot?”

  Hell, he was going to have to lie to her again. It was becoming difficult for him. Perhaps if she hadn’t been looking at him with such trust and innocence in her gaze, it would have been easier.

  The truth wasn’t going to help him now, because he knew that if he admitted he was actually quite skilled with a gun, she’d go sailing out the doorway and never look back.

  It was galling to his pride to pretend to be inept. He’d won awards at university for his accuracy on the range and in the field, and while he’d served in the military, he’d learned how to be fast. Six-shooters were the common man’s choice of weapons, however, and as much as he disliked the gun, he had still made it a point to learn how to use it. He had to admit the gun had come in handy, and his speed had saved his hide more than a few times.

  “Please tell me, why do you want to learn how to use a gun?” she asked him again.

  “I’m thinking about becoming a rancher,” he told her. “I believe the weapon will be useful.”

  “We have a ranch a few miles outside of town. It’s called Rosehill. Have you by chance heard of it?”

  It was a ridiculous question, and she was sorry she’d asked it as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Of course he hadn’t heard of Rosehill. The man had only just arrived in town. Still, the inquiry was all she could come up with to keep him talking, and, Lord, how she loved hearing him speak. His unusual accent was almost musical to her, with its deep, vibrant burr.

  “No, I haven’t heard of your ranch,” he answered.

  They continued to stare at each other for another minute before Mary Rose once again turned to leave. She had made it all the way out the front door when she stopped.

  Cole and Douglas were both watching her. Her brothers were leaning against the back of the wagon. Both men had their arms folded in front of their chests, and each, she noticed, had one booted ankle crossed over the other. They had resigned expressions on their faces.

  They were used to Mary Rose lingering.

  She smiled at the two of them before turning back to Harrison. She was happy to see he’d followed her outside. He was looking at Douglas and probably wondering who he was, she supposed. She would have to remember to introduce him after she finished telling him her plans for his immediate future.

  She simply had to do something to help the man. He looked so alone and lost.

  “I simply cannot leave you here on your own.”

  She gained his full attention with her announcement. “You can’t?” he asked.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see if her brothers were still watching her and saw that both weren’t only watching, they were also frowning with obvious disapproval. She smiled at them, just to let them know she was quite happy to be talking to the stranger, and then she took hold of Harrison’s arm and motioned for him to walk with her away from the entrance. She wanted to put some space between the two of them and her brothers. She also needed privacy for their discussion, because she knew her brothers would try to interfere if they had any idea of what she was planning to do.

  “No, I certainly can’t leave you here. You’re going to get into trouble if I don’t do something.”

  “Why do you think I’ll get into trouble?”

  “Why?” she repeated.

  She couldn’t believe he needed to ask. Still, she could see how puzzled he looked. Heaven help him, the poor man didn’t even realize his own jeopardy. It was her duty to explain his circumstances to him, she decided.

  “You’ve all but openly admitted you don’t know how to defend yourself. I’m certain several customers inside the store heard you. Everyone in town seems to make it their business to know what everyone else is doing and saying. Word will get around, Harrison, and as much as it pains me to admit it, our lovely town does have a fair number of mean-headed bullies. As soon as they hear you’re vulnerable, they’ll come after you. You won’t be safe here.”

  “Are you suggesting I’m inept?” He looked astonished.

  She decided she was going to have to be blunt with him. Even though she was probably going to hurt his feelings, the truth was for his own good.

  “You are inept.”

  He had to remind himself he was pleased by the way things were progressing. She was making him her responsibility. Dooley and Henry had been right about her. She really did take to the weak and the vulnerable.

  Still, his pride was taking one hell of a beating. It was damned grating for any woman to think of him as a weakling.

  He decided to make a fainthearted protest just to appease his own ego. “Ma’am, I don’t remember telling you I couldn’t take care of myself.”

  She pretended she hadn’t heard him. “I’m afraid you’re really going to have to come home with me.”

  He tried not to smile. “I don’t believe that’s a good idea. I’m bound to get the hang of using this new gun of mine. I paid a lot of money for it. I’m sure it’s accurate.”

  She looked exasperated. “Guns aren’t accurate. Men are. Coming home with me is a sound solution. Please try to understand. You’re such a big man, and you’re therefore a fair target. People here have certain expectations.”

  He didn’t know what she was talking about. “What does size . . .”

  She didn’t let him finish. “It’s expected that you’ll fight to protect yourself and your possessions, and if you don’t learn how to use your fists and your gun, you’ll be killed before the end of the week.”

  She deliberately softened the truth so he wouldn’t become overly alarmed. Actually, she didn’t believe he’d last a full day on his own.

  “I’m certain my brothers will be happy to teach you everything you need to know. You did save Cole’s life, after all. He’ll be pleased to offer you instruction on shooting so you can take care of yourself.”

  Harrison had to take a deep breath before he spoke. He knew his own arrogance was getting in the way of his plans now, but God help him, he couldn’t stop himself from arguing with her. He was certain he could act a little vulnerable. He wasn’t about to pretend to be completely inadequate. Damn it all, there had to be an easier way.

  “I really can take care of myself. I’m not certain how you got the idea I couldn’t. I’ve used my fists before and I’m ...”

  She didn’t want to hear it. She shook her head at him, added a pitying expression, and then said, “Thinking and doing are two different kettles of fish, Harrison. It’s dangerous to believe you’re skilled when in fact you aren’t. Have you ever been in a gunfight before?”

  He had to admit he hadn’t.

  “There, do you see?”

  She acted as though he should have figured everything out by now. He wondered if being in a gunfight was some sort of ritual required before she would believe he was adequately prepared to live in Blue Belle.

  “Have all the men who live here been in gunfights?” He sounded incredulous. He couldn’t help it. A lawyer should never be led around in circles, and Harrison had never had it h
appen to him before, but this delightful woman was doing just that, and he was in a quandary trying to figure out exactly how it had happened.

  “No, of course not,” she answered.

  “Then why did you ask me if I’d ever been in one?”

  She gave him an exasperated look.

  “Surely you noticed that the men inside the store weren’t wearing gunbelts,” she said. “Most don’t. A message goes right along with the weapon, Harrison. If you wear a gun, you have to be prepared to prove you can use it. I’m pleased to know you haven’t been in any gunfights, and I sincerely hope you never have to kill anyone. Guns shouldn’t be used for sport or vengeance. We kill snakes and other vermin, not men. Unfortunately, some of the people living here, and others drifting through, well, they don’t seem to know the difference.”

  “I noticed your brother was wearing a gun.”

  “That’s different,” she insisted. “Cole has to and you don’t. Gunfighters looking for a reputation pester my brother all the time, because they believe they’re faster than he is. Their arrogance eventually gets them killed, though not by Cole’s hand. He hasn’t killed anyone in years. He’s not a gunfighter,” she added in an emphatic tone of voice.

  She seemed to want him to agree with her. “I see.”

  “He has to wear the gun to protect himself.”

  “I understand.”

  “He only became proficient so he could keep all of us safe. It wasn’t his fault he was fast. You’re going to have to learn how to defend yourself too, if you want to settle down out here. Besides, if you’re serious about wanting to learn how to ranch, Rosehill is the ideal place for you. You’ll have wonderful teachers. Adam might even pay you to work for us, and you can learn as you do.”

  “Adam?”

  “My oldest brother,” she explained. “I have four. I’m the youngest in the family, then Travis, Cole, Douglas, and Adam.”

  Since she was being so open with him, he decided to ask her as many questions as he could.

  “Are your parents still living?”

  “My mother is,” she answered. “She lives in the South right now, but she’ll be joining us soon. You should go and get your things. If you like, I’ll walk with you.”