Clayborne Brides Series - book 1 - For the Roses by Julie Garwood

[Dalyia]

Clayborne Brides Series

book 1

For the Roses

by

Julie Garwood

Product Description:
The Clayborne brothers were a rough gang of street urchins -- until they found an abandoned baby girl in a New York City alley* named her Mary Rose* and headed to Blue Belle* Montana* to raise her to be a lady. They became a family -- held together by loyalty and love if not blood -- when suddenly a stranger threatened to tear them apart...Lord Harrison Stanford MacDonald brandished a six-shooter and a swagger* but he soon proved to be a gentleman to the core. The brothers taught him frontier survival* while Mary Rose touched his heart with a deep and desperate passion. But soon* a shattering secret would challenge everything Mary Rose believed about herself* her life* and her newfound love.
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محتوى مخفي

يجب عليك الرد لرؤية النص المخفي

[Dalyia]

Contents


Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23

[Dalyia]

No man is an island* entire of it self;
every man is a piece of the continent* a
part of the main; if a clod be washed
away by the sea* Europe is the less* as
well as if a promontory were* as well as
if a manor of thy friends or of thine own
were; any man's death diminishes me*
because I am involved in mankind; and
therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
—John Donne
Devotions upon Emergent Occasions
Meditation XVII



Prologue


Contents - Next


New York City* 1860
They found her in the trash. Luck was on the boys' side; the rats hadn't gotten to her yet. Two of the vermin had already climbed onto the top of the covered picnic basket and were frantically clawing at the wicker* while three others were tearing at the sides with their razor-sharp teeth. The rats were in a frenzy* for they smelled milk and tender* sweet-scented flesh.
The alley was the gang's home. Three of the four boys were sound asleep in their make-do beds of converted wooden crates lined with old straw. They'd put in a full night's work of thieving and conning and fighting. They were simply too exhausted to hear the cries of the infant.
Douglas was to be her savior. The fourth member of the gang was taking his turn doing sentry duty at the narrow mouth of the alley. He'd been watching a dark-cloaked woman for quite some time now. When she came hurrying toward the opening with the basket in her arms* he warned the other gang members of possible trouble with a soft* low-pitched whistle* then retreated into his hiding place behind a stack of old warped whiskey barrels. The woman paused in the archway* gave a furtive glance back over her shoulder toward the street* then ran into the very center of the alley. She stopped so suddenly her skirts flew out around her ankles. Grabbing the basket by the handle* she swung her arm back as far as it would go to gain momentum and threw the basket into a pyramid of garbage piled high against the opposite wall. It landed on its side* near the top. The woman was muttering under her breath all the while. Douglas couldn't make out any of the words because the sound she made was muffled by another noise coming from inside the basket. It sounded like the mewing of a cat to him. He spared the basket only a glance* his attention firmly on the intruder.
The woman was obviously afraid. He noticed her hands shook when she pulled the hood of her cloak further down on her forehead. He thought she might be feeling guilty because she was getting rid of a family pet. The animal was probably old and ailing* and no one wanted it around any longer. People were like that* Douglas figured. They never wanted to be bothered by the old or the young. Too much trouble* he guessed. He found himself shaking his head and almost scoffed out loud over the sorry state of affairs in general* and this woman's cowardice in particular. If she didn't want the pet* why didn't she just give it away? He wasn't given time to mull over a possible answer* for the woman suddenly turned around and went running back to the street. She never looked back. When she was almost to the corner* Douglas gave another whistle. This one was loud* shrill. The oldest of the gang members* a runaway slave named Adam* leapt to his feet with the agility and speed of a predator. Douglas pointed to the basket* then took off in pursuit of the woman. He'd noticed the thick envelope sticking out of her coat pocket and thought it was time he took care of a little business. He was* after all* the best eleven-year-old pickpocket on Market Street.
Adam watched Douglas leave* then turned to get the basket. It wasn't an easy task.
The rats didn't want to give up their bounty. Adam hit one squarely on the head with a jagged-edged stone. The vile creature let out a squeal before scurrying back to the street. Adam lit his torch next and waved it back and forth above the basket to frighten the other vermin away. When he was certain they were all gone* he lifted the basket out of the garbage and carried it back to the bed of crates where the other gang members still slept.
He almost dropped the thing when he heard the faint sounds coming from inside.
"Travis* Cole* wake up. Douglas found something."
Adam continued on past the beds and went to the dead end of the alley. He sat down* folded his long* skinny legs in front of him* and put the basket on the ground. He leaned back against the brick wall and waited for the other two boys to join him.
Cole sat down on Adam's right side* and Travis* yawning loudly* hunkered down on his other side.
"What'd you find* boss?" Travis asked* his voice thick with sleep.
He'd asked Adam the question. The other three gang members had elevated the runaway slave to the position of leader one month ago. They'd used both reason and emotion to come to their decision. Adam was the oldest of the boys* almost fourteen now* and logic suggested he* therefore* lead the others. Also* he was the most intelligent of the four. While those were two sound reasons* there was yet another more compelling one. Adam had risked his own life to save each one of them from certain death. In the back alleys of New York City* where survival of the fittest was the only commandment anyone ever paid any attention to* there simply wasn't room for prejudice. Hunger and violence were masters of the night* and they were both color-blind. .
"Boss?" Travis whispered* prodding him to answer.
"I don't know what it is*" Adam answered.
He was about to add that he hadn't looked inside yet* but Cole interrupted him. "It's a basket* that's what it is*" he muttered. "The latch holding the top closed looks like it could be real gold. Think it is?"
Adam shrugged. Travis* the youngest of the boys* imitated the action. He accepted the torch Adam handed him and held it high enough for all of them to see.
"Shouldn't we wait for Douglas before we open the thing?" Travis asked. He glanced over his shoulder toward the entrance of the alley. "Where'd he go?"
Adam reached for the latch. "He'll be along."
"Wait* boss*" Cole cautioned. "There's a noise coming from inside." He reached for his knife. "You hear it* Travis?"
"I hear it*" Travis answered. "Could be something inside's gonna bite us. Think it could be a snake?"
"Of course it couldn't be a snake*" Cole answered* his exasperation evident in his tone of voice. "You got piss for brains* boy. Snakes don't whimper like… like maybe kittens."
Stung by the retort* Travis lowered his gaze. "We ain't never gonna find out lessun we open the thing*" he muttered.
Adam nodded agreement. He flipped the latch to the side and lifted the lid an inch. Nothing jumped out at them. He let out the breath he'd been holding* then pushed the lid all the way up. The hinge squeaked* and the lid swung down to rest against the back side of the basket.
All three boys had pressed their shoulders tight against the wall. They leaned forward now to look inside.
And then they let out a collective gasp. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. A baby* as perfect and as beautiful as an angel from above* was sleeping soundly. Eyes closed* one tiny fist in mouth* the infant occasionally suckled and whimpered* and that was the noise the boys had heard.
Adam was the first to recover from the surprise. "Dear Lord in heaven*" he whispered. "How could anyone deliberately throw away anything this precious?"
Cole had dropped his knife when he spotted the baby. He reached for it now* noticed his hand was trembling in reaction to his worry over what might be hiding inside the basket* and shook his head over what he considered cowardly behavior. He made his voice sound mean to cover his embarrassment. "Course they could throw the baby away. People do it all the time. Rich ones and poor ones. Makes no difference. They get tired of something and just toss it out like dirty water. Ain't that right* Travis?"
"That's right*" Travis agreed.
"Boss* didn't you listen to any of the stories about the orphanages Douglas and Travis were telling?"
"I seen lots of babies there*" Travis announced before Adam could answer Cole's question. "Well* maybe not lots* but some*" he qualified in an attempt to be completely accurate. "They kept them up on the third floor. None of the little buggers ever made it that I recollect. They put them in that ward* and sometimes they just plumb forgot they were there. Least* I think that's what happened." His voice shivered over the memories of the time he spent in one of the city's refuge centers for displaced children. "This little mite wouldn't never make it living there*" he added. "He's too small."
"I seen smaller down on Main Street. The whore* Nellie* had one. How come you think it's a boy baby?"
"He's bald* ain't he? Only boys come bald." Travis's argument made perfectly good sense to Cole. He nodded agreement. Then he turned to their leader. "What are we gonna do with him?"
"We ain't throwing him away."
Douglas made the announcement. The other three boys jerked back in reaction to the harshness in his tone of voice. Douglas nodded to let them know he meant what he'd just said* and added* "I seen the whole thing. A fancy-dressed man in coat and tails climbs out of this expensive-looking carriage. He's got this here basket looped over his arm. He's standing under the streetlamp* so of course I see his face real clear. I seen the woman's face too. She'd been waiting on the corner for him* I figured out* when he gets out of the carriage and goes right to her. She keeps trying to hide her face by pulling the hood down over the top of her head* and the way she's acting makes me think she's good and scared. The man starts getting angry* and it don't take me long to figure out why."
"So? Why was he getting angry?" Cole demanded to know when Douglas didn't immediately continue.
"She didn't want to take the basket* that's why*" Douglas explained. He squatted down next to Travis before going on. "She keeps shaking her head* see* over and over. The man's talking up a storm and pointing his finger in her face. Then he pulls out a fat envelope and holds it up in front of her. She comes around then. She snatches it out of his hand as quick as lightning* which makes me think that whatever is inside the envelope is important* and then she finally takes the basket. He climbs back inside the carriage while she's tucking the goods in her pocket."
"Then what happened?" Travis asked.
"She waits until the carriage rounds the corner*" Douglas told him. "Then she sneaks into our alley and throws the basket away. I didn't pay the basket much attention at all. I thought there was maybe an old cat inside. Never guessed it could be a baby. Don't think I would have left if I'd known…"
"Where'd you go?" Cole interrupted to ask.
"I'd gotten mighty curious about the envelope in her pocket* so I followed her."
"Did you get it?" Travis wanted to know.
Douglas snickered. "Of course I got it. I don't have the reputation of being the best pickpocket on Market Street for nothing* do I? The woman was in a hurry* but I got into her pocket in the thick of the crowd pushing their way onto the midnight train. She never knew I touched her. Stupid woman. Bet she's just about now figuring out what happened."
"What's inside the envelope?" Cole asked.
"You ain't gonna believe it."
Cole rolled his eyes heavenward. Douglas liked to draw things out. It drove the others crazy. "Honest to God* Douglas* if you don't…"
Travis interrupted his threat. "I got me something important to say*" he blurted out. He wasn't the least bit interested in the contents of the envelope. His thoughts were on the baby. "We're all agreed we ain't throwing the little fella away. So now I'm wondering who we're gonna give him to."
"I don't know anyone who'd want a baby*" Cole admitted. He rubbed his smooth-skinned jaw the way he'd seen the older* more sophisticated thugs do. He thought the action made him look older and wiser. "What's he good for?"
"Probably nothing*" Travis replied. "Least ways* not yet. Maybe though* when he gets bigger…"
"Yeah?" Douglas asked* curious over the sudden excitement that came into Travis's voice.
"I'm thinking we could all teach him a thing or two."
"Like what?" Douglas asked. He reached out and gently touched the baby's forehead with his index finger. "His skin feels like satin."
Travis was warming to the possibility of educating the baby. It made him feel important… and needed. "Douglas* you could teach him all about picking pockets. You're real good at it. And you* Cole* you could teach him how to be mean. I seen the look that comes into your eyes when you think someone's wronged you. You could teach the little fella to look like that too. It's real scary."
Cole smiled. He appreciated hearing the compliment. "I stole me a gun*" he whispered.
"When?" Douglas asked.
"Yesterday*" Cole answered.
"I seen it already*" Travis boasted.
"I'm going to get good shooting it as soon as I steal me some bullets. I'm gonna be the fastest gun on Market Street. I might be persuaded to make the little fella second best."
"I could teach him how to get things*" Travis announced. "I'm good at finding what we need* ain't I* boss?"
"Yes*" Adam agreed. "You're very good."
"We could be the best gang in New York City. We could make everyone afraid of us*" Travis whispered. He was so enthralled over the possibility* his eyes shone bright. His voice took on a dreamy quality. "Even Lowell and his bastard friends*" he added* referring to the rival gang members they all secretly feared.
The boys all took a moment to look at the pretty picture Travis had just painted for them. Cole rubbed his jaw again. He liked what he was imagining. He had to force the eagerness out of his voice when he spoke again. "Boss* you could teach him all about them books your mama taught you about. You could maybe make him as smart as you are."
"You could teach him how to read* and he wouldn't get whiplashes across his back for learning the way you did*" Travis interjected.
"If we keep him* the first thing we got to do is take that sissy dress off him*" Douglas announced. He glared at the long white gown and shook his head. "No one's ever gonna laugh at him. We'll see to it."
"I'll kill anyone who even snickers*" Cole promised.
"All babies wear those things*" Travis said. "I seen them before. It's what they sleep in."
"How come?" Douglas asked.
"They don't need walking clothes because they don't know how to walk yet."
"How we gonna feed him?" Cole asked.
"You can see the bottle of milk someone put in the basket. When it's empty* I'll get him more*" Travis promised. "He probably don't have teeth yet* so he can't eat real food. Milk will do for now. And there are also some dry nappies—I'll get him some more."
"How come you know so much about babies?" Cole asked.
"Just do*" Travis answered with a shrug.
"Who changes him when he piddles?" Douglas asked.
"I say we all gotta take turns*" Cole suggested.
"I seen them nappies hanging on the lines behind McQueeny's house. There were little clothes hanging out to dry too. I could get the little fella some. Say* what are we going to call him?" Travis asked. "Anyone got any ideas?"
"What about Little Cole?" Cole suggested. "It's got a nice ring to it."
"What about Little Douglas?" Douglas asked. "It's got a nicer ring to it."
"We can't name him after one of us*" Travis said. "We'd fight about it if we did."
Douglas and Cole finally agreed with Travis. "All right*" Cole said. "The name's got to be something real important sounding."
"My pa's name was Andrew*" Douglas interjected.
"So?" Cole asked. "He dumped you at the orphanage after your ma died* didn't he?"
"Yeah*" Douglas admitted* his head downcast.
"We ain't gonna name the little fella after anyone who would throw a kid away. It ain't right. We got standards* don't we? This one already got himself tossed in the trash. No use reminding him with your pa's name hanging over his head. I say we call him Sidney* after that fancy fella who used to run the numbers over on Summit Street. He was a real mean one* Sidney was. You remember him* don't you* Douglas?" Cole asked.

[Dalyia]

"I remember him all right*" Douglas replied. "He was mighty respected."
"You got that right*" Cole said. "And he died of regular causes. That's important* isn't it? No one snuck up on him and did him in."
"I like the sound of the name*" Travis interjected. "Let's take a vote on it."
Douglas raised his right hand. It was coated with dirt and grime.
"In favor?"
Cole and Travis both raised their hands. Adam didn't move. Cole seemed to be the only one to realize their boss hadn't offered much to the conversation in the past several minutes. He turned to look at their leader. "What's wrong* boss?"
"You know what's wrong*" Adam answered. He sounded old* weary. "I have to leave. I don't stand a chance of surviving in the city. I've stayed far too long as it is. If I'm ever going to be free and not have to worry about my owner's sons finding me and taking me back* I have to go West. I can't live any kind of life hiding in alleys until the dark of night. A man can disappear out in the wilderness. You can understand* can't you? I shouldn't have a vote about the baby. I won't be here to help raise him."
"We can't make it without you* Adam*" Travis cried out. "You can't leave us." He sounded like a frightened little boy. His voice cracked* then broke on a loud sob. His fear of being abandoned by his protector terrified him. "Please stay*" he begged in a near shout.
The noise jarred the baby. The infant flinched in reaction and let out a whimper.
Adam reached into the basket and awkwardly patted the baby's stomach. One touch and he immediately pulled back. "This baby's soaked through."
"Soaked through with what?" Cole asked. He started to reach for the bottle to see if there was a crack in the glass.
"Piddle*" Travis answered. "Best get the nappy off him* boss. Otherwise his backside's gonna get sore."
The infant was struggling to wake up. The boys all stared in fascination. None could remember ever being this close to anything this tiny.
"He looks like he's full of wrinkles when he squiggles up his face like that*" Douglas whispered with a snort. "He's a cute little bugger* ain't he?"
Cole nodded* then turned back to Adam. "You're the boss for now* Adam. You got to take that nappy off."
The oldest didn't shrug off the responsibility. He took a deep breath* grimaced* and then slid his hands under the baby's arms and slowly lifted him up out of the basket.
The baby's eyes opened. In the light from the torch Travis held up* they could all see how blue the color was. "He could be your little brother* Cole. You both got the exact color of eyes."
Adam's arms were rigidly extended in front of him. He had a pained expression on his face. Sweat beaded his forehead. He was obviously terrified holding the infant. He didn't know how hard to squeeze* and heaven help him if the little lad started to cry. He didn't know what in God's name he would do then.
In a hoarse whisper he asked Cole to please lift the gown and undo the nappy.
"Why me?" Cole complained.
"Travis is holding the torch and Douglas is too far away to get around my arms*" Adam answered. "Hurry now. He might start squirming again. I'm afraid I'm going to drop him. He's so light* it's like holding air."
"The little fella's a curious one* ain't he?" Travis remarked to Douglas. "Look how he's studying each one of us. So serious for such a tiny bit of a thing."
"Douglas* reach around me and wipe my brow*" Adam requested. "I can't see for all the sweat pouring down into my eyes."
Douglas snatched up a rag and did as he was requested. Adam was acting as though he were holding a piece of delicate dynamite. His concentration was intense and almost painful to watch.
Travis was the only one to see the humor in the boss's reaction. He let out a hoot of laughter. "He ain't gonna explode* boss. He's just like you* only smaller."
Cole wasn't paying any attention to the chatter going on around him. He held his breath while he worked on the nappy. Touching the soggy cotton made him want to gag. When the thing was finally released* it fell in a heap on the ground next to the basket. The boys all paused to look down and frown at the offending garment. Cole wiped his hands on his pant legs* then reached up to pull the gown back down over the baby's chubby thighs. He completed the task before the truth dawned on him.
And then he looked again* just to make certain.
Sidney was a baby girl. A bald baby girl* he qualified. He immediately got good and angry. Just what in thunder were they going to do with a useless* no account* never-amount-to-anything girl? He started to shake his head. His mind was made up all right. He wasn't going to have anything to do with her. No* sir* not him* not ever. Why* they ought to toss her right back into the trash.
She changed his mind in less than a minute's time. He was in the process of working up a real scowl when he happened to glance up at her face. She was staring right at him. He leaned to his left* out of her immediate line of vision. She followed him with her wide-eyed* trusting gaze. Cole tried to look away. He couldn't. He didn't want to keep staring at her* but he couldn't seem to make himself stop.
Then she went in for the kill. She smiled at him.
He was lost. The bond was formed in that instant.
The others fell like dominoes.
"We got to do it right." Cole's voice was a bare whisper. The other boys turned to look at him.
"Do what right?" Travis asked the question the others were thinking.
"There can't be any more talk of us being the best gang in New York City. We can't keep the baby here. It wouldn't be right. She needs a family* not a bunch of street thugs bossing her around."
"She?" Adam almost dropped the baby then and there. "Are you telling me you think Sidney's a baby girl?"
"I don't just think it* I know it*" Cole announced with a nod. "She don't have the necessary parts to be a boy baby."
"God help us*" Adam whispered.
Cole didn't know what he found more amusing* the look of horror on Adam's face when he implored his Maker's assistance* or the strange sound he made in the back of his throat when he croaked out his plea. He sounded as if he were choking on something big* like a chicken leg.
"I don't want no girls around*" Travis muttered. "They ain't good for nothing. I hate every last one of them. They're just a bunch of complainers and crybabies."
The other boys ignored Travis. Douglas and Cole were both watching Adam. Their boss was looking ill.
"What's the matter* boss?" Cole asked.
"A black shouldn't be holding a lily white baby girl*" Adam said.
Cole snorted. "I watched you save her from getting eaten up by the rats. If she was older and understood* she'd be mighty appreciative."
"Mighty appreciative*" Douglas agreed with a nod.
"Besides*" Cole said. "She don't know if you're black or white."
"You saying she's blind?" Travis asked* stunned by the very possibility.
"She ain't blind*" Cole muttered. He let the youngest member of the gang see his exasperation. "She's just too little to understand about hating yet. Babies aren't borned hating anything. They have to be taught. When she looks at Adam* all she's seeing is a… a brother. Yeah* that's what she's seeing* all right. And big brothers protect their little sisters* don't they? Ain't that a sacred rule or something? Maybe this little one already knows that."
"I made a promise to my mama*" Adam told the other boys once again. "I gave her my word I would run as far west as I could until I found a place where I'd be safe. Mama told me there was a war coming* and when it was all over and everything was decided* there's a good chance she'll be free. She promised to come after me then. I just have to keep myself alive until that day comes. I promised her I'd survive* and a son doesn't break a promise to his mama. I have to run for her."
'Take the baby with you*" Cole told him.
"They'd hang me for sure*" Adam scoffed.
"Hell* they're gonna hang you anyway for killing the bastard who owned you* remember?" Cole said.
"If they catch you* Adam*" Douglas interjected. "And you're too smart to let that happen."
"I'm feeling a might brotherly toward the baby too*" Cole announced.
The other boys immediately turned to look at him. He became embarrassed over the way they were staring at him. "There ain't no cowardice in admitting it*" he quickly added. "I'm strong* and she's just a puny little thing who needs brothers like Adam and me to see she grows up proper."
"Proper? What do you know about proper?" Douglas asked. There was a snicker of disbelief in his voice.
"Nothing*" Cole admitted. "I don't know nothing about being proper*" he added. "But Adam knows all about it* don't you* Adam? You talk good* and you read and write like a gentleman. Your mama taught you* and now you can teach me. I don't want to be ignorant in front of my little sister. It ain't right."
"He could teach all of us*" Douglas said. He wasn't about to be left out.
"I don't guess I'd hate her if I was her big brother*" Travis grumbled. "I'm gonna get real strong when I'm all growed up. Isn't that true* Douglas?"
"Yeah* it's true all right*" Douglas confirmed. "You know what I think?"
"What's that?" Adam asked. He smiled in spite of his worries* for the little one had just given him the silliest grin. She was sure pleased with herself. She seemed to like being the center of attention. For such a tiny thing* she held considerable power over all of them. Her smile alone made him feel all warm and comforted inside. Her easy acceptance of him was melting away the painful knot he'd been carrying around in his belly ever since the day he'd had to leave his mama. The baby was a gift magically given into his care* and it was his duty to see that she was nurtured and protected and cherished.
"I sometimes wonder if God always knows what He's doing*" Adam whispered.
"Of course He does*" Douglas replied. "And I think He would want us to come up with another name for our baby. Sidney don't seem right now. I sure hope she grows some hair. I don't cotton to the notion of having a bald little sister."
"Mary*" Cole blurted out.
"Rose*" Adam said at the very same time.
"Mary was my mama's name*" Cole explained. "She died having me. I heard tell from neighbors she was a right good woman."
"My mama's name is Rose*" Adam said. "She is a right good woman too."
"The baby's falling asleep*" Travis whispered. "Put her back down in the basket* and I'll try to slip another nappy on her. Then you two can argue about her name."
Adam did as he was instructed. They all watched as Travis awkwardly put a dry nappy on. The baby was sound asleep before he finished messing with her.
"I don't think there's anything to argue about*" Douglas said. He reached over to cover the baby while Adam and Cole both muttered their reasons again for wanting the baby named after their mothers. Douglas knew a full-blown argument was developing* and he wanted to stop it before it went any further. "I say it's all settled. Her name is Mary Rose. Mary is for your mama* Cole* and Rose is for your Mama Rose* Adam."
Cole was the first to see the rightness in the name and the first to smile* Adam quickly agreed. Travis started to laugh* and Douglas hushed him by shoving his elbow in his side* so he wouldn't wake the baby.
"We have to make plans*" Douglas whispered. "I think we should leave as soon as possible* maybe even tomorrow night* on the midnight train. Travis* you got until then to get the things we'll need for Mary Rose. I'll buy the tickets for us. Adam* you'll have to hide in the baggage car with the baby. Is that all right with you?"
Adam nodded. "You figure it all out* and I'll do it*" he promised.
"How are you going to buy the tickets?" Cole asked.
"The envelope I took from the woman who threw Mary Rose away was stuffed with money. There were some old-looking papers with fancy writing and seals on the paper* but I can't make out any of it because I can't read. I know money when I see it though. We got us enough to get as far as Adam needs to go and stake us some land."
"Let me see those papers*" Adam asked.
Douglas pulled the envelope out of his pocket and handed it to their boss. Adam let out a whistle when he saw all the money tucked inside. He found two papers and pulled them out. One was filled with numbers and scratches he couldn't make out* and the other sheet looked like a blank page torn from a book. There was only a little bit of handwriting on the top* giving the baby's date of birth and her weight. He read the words out loud so the others would know what he'd found.

[Dalyia]

"It weren't enough they threw her away. They even thrown out her papers*" Douglas whispered.
"I didn't have papers when I was dumped at the orphanage*" Travis said. "It's a good thing I already knew my name* isn't it* Cole?"
"I suppose so*" Cole answered.
Travis shrugged off the matter as unimportant. "I got a suggestion to make now* so don't interrupt me until you hear me out. All right?"
He waited until everyone nodded before he continued. "I'm the only one of us who knows for certain I'm not wanted by the law* and nobody's looking to find me* so I say Mary Rose should carry my last name. Fact is* if we're gonna do it right* like Cole says we should* then everyone should take my last name. Brothers and sisters are all part of the same family* after all* and they all got to have the same last name. So I'm saying* from this minute on* we're all Claybornes. Agreed?"
"No one's going to believe I'm a Clayborne*" Adam argued.
"Who cares what anyone else believes?" Cole asked. "We ain't asking for approval* just to be left alone. If you say you're a Clayborne* and we say you're a Clayborne* whose to say you ain't? Anyone who challenges you has to get through the rest of us first if he wants to make trouble. And remember*" he added* "I got me a gun now. Soon enough I'll be able to handle any trouble that comes our way."
Douglas and Travis nodded. Adam let out a sigh. Douglas put his hand out over the basket* his palm down. He looked at each of the other gang members.
"I say we run for Mama Rose and we become a family for our little Mary Rose. We're brothers*" he whispered.
Travis put his hand on top of Douglas's. "Brothers*" he vowed.
Cole was next. "We run for Mary Rose and Mama Rose*" he pledged. "We're brothers until we die."
Adam hesitated for what seemed an eternity to the other boys. And then his mind was finally made up. His hand covered Cole's. "Brothers*" he vowed in a voice shaking with emotion. "For the Roses."




July 3* 1860
Dear Mama Rose*
I'm writing to you in care of Mistress Livonia* and I pray this letter finds the two of you in good health. I'm going to share with you all the wonderful adventures I've had heading West* but first I have something very important to tell you. It's about your new family. You have a namesake now* Mama. Her name is Mary Rose…
Love*
John Quincy Adam Clayborne

[Dalyia]

Chapter 1
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Montana Valley* 1879
The baby was finally coming home.
Cole waited next to his wagon for the stagecoach to round the last bend in the road. He was so excited* he could barely stand still. The cloud of dust coming from above the hill indicated she was close. He couldn't wait to see her. He wondered if she'd changed much in the past months* then laughed out loud over the foolish notion. Mary Rose had been all grown up when she'd left for her last year of school. Other than acquiring a few more freckles on the bridge of her nose* or letting her hair grow a little longer* he couldn't imagine any significant changes.
Lord* he'd missed her. They all had. Life on the ranch kept them running from sunup until sundown* and it was only at dinner that they all ached to have her around trying to boss them into eating something new and different she had prepared for them. She was a fine cook when she didn't stray from the familiar* but none of them could abide the fancy French sauces she liked to pour over everything.
The stagecoach was over an hour late* which meant that crusty old Clive Harrington was doing the driving. He would have had to catch up on all the gossip with Mary Rose before they started out. Clive would demand her full attention* and knowing what a soft heart his sister had* Cole knew she wouldn't rush him.
They were fast friends* but no one in Blue Belle could understand why. Clive Harrington was a cantankerous old buzzard who constantly scowled* snapped* and complained and was* in Cole's estimation* a thoroughly disagreeable son-of-a-bitch. He was also as ugly as sin. The walkways in town would clear at the first sight of him* unless Mary Rose was around. A magical transformation took place then. Clive went from ferocious to meek. Not only did he act as though he were everyone's best friend* he also wore a ridiculous* ain't-life-grand grin from morning until night. Harrington made a complete fool of himself doting on Mary Rose* and all because she doted on him. She really cared about the old coot. She took care of him when he needed caring* made certain he was included in their holiday dinners* and personally mended all of his clothes for him. Harrington always took ill once a year* usually around roundup time* but sometimes a full month before. He'd appear on their doorstep with his hat in one hand and a dirty handkerchief in the other* asking for a bit of advice about how to cure his latest mysterious ailment. It was all a ruse* of course. Mary Rose would immediately park old Clive in the guest room and pamper him for the full week it always took before he felt fit again.
Everyone in town called Harrington's week of infirmity his annual getaway* and from the way the old man was dabbing at the corners of his eyes and rubbing his nose with his handkerchief while he slowed the horses* Cole surmised he was already planning his next holiday.
The stagecoach had barely rocked to a stop when the door flew open and Mary Rose jumped to the ground.
"I'm finally home*" she called out. She picked up her skirts and ran to her brother. Her bonnet flew off her head and landed in the dust behind her. She was laughing with sheer joy. Cole tried to maintain his somber expression because he didn't want Harrington spreading the rumor he'd gone soft. Cole liked having everyone in town fear him. His sister's laughter proved contagious* however* and Cole couldn't control his reaction. He smiled first* then burst into laughter. Appearances be damned.
Mary Rose hadn't changed at all. She was still just as dramatic and uninhibited as always* and* heaven help him* she'd be the death of all the brothers* who constantly worried about the way she always wore her heart on her sleeve.
She threw herself into his arms. For such a little thing* she had the grip of a bear. Cole hugged her back* kissed her on the top of her head* and then suggested to her that she quit laughing like a crazy woman.
She wasn't offended. She pulled away* put her hands on her hips* and gave her brother a thorough inspection.
"You're still as handsome as ever* Cole. Have you killed anyone while I was at school?"
"Of course not*" he snapped. He folded his arms across his chest* leaned back against the wagon* and tried to frown at her.
"You look like you grew another inch or two. Your hair seems more blond too. When did you get that scar on your forehead? Did you get into a fight?"
Before he could answer her questions* she turned to Harrington. "Clive* did my brother shoot anyone while I was away?"
"Not that I recollect* Miss Mary*" he called back.
"Any knife fights?" she asked.
"I don't think so*" Clive answered.
Mary Rose seemed convinced. She smiled again. "I'm so happy to be home. I've made up my mind. I'm never leaving again. Adam isn't going to make me go anywhere* no matter how good it might be for my mind or my soul. I'm all refined now* and I've got the papers to prove it. Lord* it's warm for spring* isn't it? I love the heat and the dirt and the wind and the dust. Has Travis gotten into any fights in town? Never mind*" she added in a rush. "You wouldn't tell me if he did anything wrong. Adam will though. He tells me everything. He wrote more than you did* by the way. Is the new barn finished? I got a letter from Mama Rose just the day before school ended. The mail arrived right on time too. Isn't that something? We live in such modern times. What about…"
Cole was having trouble keeping up with his sister. She was talking as fast as a politician. "Slow down*" he interrupted. "I can only answer one question at a time. Catch your breath while I help Harrington unload your baggage."
A few minutes later* her trunk* boxes* and three valises were packed in the back of the wagon. Mary Rose climbed up on the flatbed and started sorting through her things.
Cole told her to wait until they got home to find what she was looking for. She ignored his suggestion. She closed one box and turned to the second one.
Harrington stood next to the wagon* smiling at her. "I sure missed you* Miss Mary*" he whispered. He blushed like a schoolboy and gave Cole a quick look to make sure he wasn't going to laugh at him.
Cole pretended he hadn't heard the confession. He turned away before he rolled his eyes heavenward. His sister was obviously pleased by Harrington's admission. "I missed you too* Clive. Did you get my letters?"
"I surely did*" he replied. "I read them more than once too." Mary Rose smiled at her friend. "I'm happy to hear it. I didn't forget your birthday. Don't leave just yet. I have something for you."
She was diligently sorting through her trunk and finally found the box she had been searching for.
She handed it to Clive. "This is for you. Promise me you won't open it until you get home."
"You got me a present?" He looked flabbergasted.
She smiled. "Two presents*" she corrected. "There's another surprise tucked inside the first."
"What is it?" Clive asked. He sounded like a little boy on Christmas morning.
Mary Rose took hold of his hand and climbed down out of the wagon. "It's a surprise*" she answered. "That's why I wrapped it in a box with such pretty paper. Thank you for the ride*" she added with a curtsy. "It was very lovely."
"You ain't mad because I wouldn't let you ride up on the perch with me?"
"No* I'm not angry*" she assured him.
Harrington turned to Cole to explain. "She begged me to let her sit up there with me* but I didn't think it would be fitting for such a dignified young lady to be riding shotgun."
Cole nodded. "We need to get going* Mary Rose."
He didn't wait for her agreement but turned and got up on the seat of the wagon. He took the reins in his hands and asked his sister to quit dawdling.
She had to chase after her forgotten bonnet first. Clive was clutching his present with both hands while he slowly walked back to his coach. He acted as if he were carrying a priceless treasure.
They were finally on their way home. Cole answered her questions while she removed most of the evidence proving she was a refined lady. She took off her white gloves first* then pulled out the pins holding her prim bun together at the back of her neck. She wasn't satisfied until the thick* blond mass floated down her back.
She let out a sigh of pleasure while she threaded her fingers through her curls.
"I'm so sick of being a lady*" she said. "Honest to heaven* it's such a strain."
Cole laughed. Mary Rose knew she wouldn't get any sympathy from him.
"You wouldn't laugh if you had to wear a corset. It binds a body up as tight as a coil. It isn't natural."
"Did they make you wear one of those things at school?" Cole was horrified by the idea.
"Yes*" she answered. "I didn't though. No one could tell* after all. I never got dressed in public."
"I hope to God not."
He had to slow the horses when they started the steep climb up the first ridge. Mary Rose turned around so she could watch to make sure her trunk didn't fall off the back of the wagon.
Once they'd reached the crest* she turned around again. She took off her navy blue jacket* draped it over the back of the bench* and started unbuttoning the cuffs of her starched white blouse. The collar was chafing her neck. She unbuttoned the top three buttons.
"Something odd happened at school. I didn't know what to make of it."
"Make of what?" he asked.
"A new classmate arrived in January. She was from Chicago. Her parents came with her to help her get settled."
"And?"
Mary Rose shrugged. "It's probably nothing."
"Tell me anyway. I can hear the worry in your voice."
"I am not worrying*" she said. "It was just so peculiar. The girl's mother was born and raised in England. She thought she knew me."
"She can't know you*" he said. "You've never been to England. Could you have met her someplace else?"
Mary Rose shook her head. "I'm sure I would have remembered."
"Tell me what happened."
"I was walking across the commons. I smiled at the new arrivals* just to be polite and make them feel welcome* and all of a sudden* the girl's mother lets out a scream loud enough to frighten the stone gargoyles on top of Emmet Building. She scared me too."
"Why's that?" he asked.
"She was pointing at me all the while she was screaming*" Mary Rose explained. "I became quite embarrassed."
"Then what happened?"
"She clutched her chest with both hands and looked like she was going to keel over."
"All right* Mary Rose. What'd you do?" He was immediately suspicious his sister wasn't telling him everything. She had a habit of getting into mischief* and she was always astonished by the trouble that would inevitably follow.
"I didn't do anything wrong*" she cried out. "I was acting like a perfect lady. Why would you jump to the conclusion I was responsible for the poor woman's condition?" she asked* sounding wounded.

[Dalyia]

"Because you usually are responsible*" he reminded her. "Were you carrying your gun at the time?"
"Of course not*" she replied. "I wasn't running or doing anything the least improper. I do know how to behave like a lady when I have to* Cole."
"Then what was the matter with the woman?"
"When she finally calmed down* she told me she thought I was a woman she used to know. She called her Lady Agatha Something-or-other. She said I was the spitting image of the woman."
"That isn't peculiar*" he decided. "Lots of women have blond hair and blue eyes. It's not unusual."
"Are you saying I'm plain?"
He couldn't resist. "Yeah* I guess I am."
It was a lie* of course. Mary Rose was the complete opposite of plain. She was really very beautiful* or so he'd been told over and over again by every eligible man in town. He didn't see his sister that way. She was sweet and good-hearted most of the time* and a little wildcat the rest of the time. She used to be a brat* but now that she was all grown up* he guessed she wasn't such a pain after all.
"Adam assures me I'm pretty*" she argued. She shoved her brother with her shoulder. "He always tells the truth. Besides* you know very well it's what's inside a woman's heart that really matters. Mama Rose thinks I'm a beautiful daughter* and she's never even seen me."
"You about finished being vain* Mary Rose?"
She laughed. "Yes."
"I wouldn't worry about the coincidence of looking like someone else."
"But that wasn't the end of it*" she explained. "About a month later* I was called into the superior's office. There was an elderly man waiting for me. The headmistress was there too. She had my file on her desk."
"How'd you know it was your file?"
"Because it's the thickest one at the school*" she answered. "And the cover's torn."
She looked at her brother and immediately knew what he was thinking. "You can quit smiling that know-it-all smile of yours* Cole. I will admit that my first year at school didn't go well. I had a little trouble adjusting. I realize now I was simply homesick and was trying to get thrown out so you'd have to come and get me. However*" she hastily added* "I have had a perfect record ever since* and that should count for something."
"Tell me about the man waiting in the office*" he said.
"He was a lawyer*" she said. "He asked me all sorts of questions about our family. He wanted to know how long we'd lived in Montana and why our mother didn't live with us. He wanted me to describe to him what my brothers looked like too. I wouldn't answer any of his questions. I didn't think it was any of his business. He was a complete stranger* after all. I didn't like him at all."
Cole didn't like him either. "Did he explain why he was asking all these questions?"
"He told me there was a large inheritance at issue. I think he went away convinced I wasn't a long-lost relative. I've made you worry* haven't I?"
"A little*" he admitted. "I don't like the idea of anyone asking about us."
She tried to lighten his mood. "It wasn't all bad*" she said. "I hadn't studied for my English exam because Eleanor kept me up half the night complaining about some latest slight. Since I was in the office* I got to wait until the following day to take the test."
"I thought you weren't going to put up with Eleanor again."
"I swear to you I wasn't*" Mary Rose replied. "No one else would take her for a roommate though* and the mistress practically got down on her hands and knees begging me to take Eleanor in. Poor Eleanor. She has a good heart* honest she does* but she keeps it hidden most of the time. She's still a trial of endurance."
Cole smiled. Eleanor had been the one wrinkle in his sister's otherwise perfect life. Mary Rose was the only student at school who would suffer the young woman's presence. The brothers loved hearing Eleanor stories. They found the woman's antics hysterically funny* and when any of them needed a good laugh* an Eleanor story had to be dredged up.
"Was she as ornery as ever?" he asked* hoping his sister had a new story to tell.
"She was*" Mary Rose admitted. "I used to feel guilty telling all of you about her* but then Travis convinced me that since no harm was done and she'd never find out* it was all right. She really can be outrageous. Do you know she left school a full week before everyone else? She didn't even say good-bye. Something was wrong with her father* but she wouldn't tell me what it was. She cried herself to sleep five nights in a row* then she left. I wish she'd confided in me. I would have helped if I could. Her father wasn't ill. I asked the headmistress after Eleanor took off. She wouldn't tell me anything* but she puckered her lips* and she only does that when she is really disgusted about something. Eleanor's father was going to donate a large sum of money so the mistress could build another dormitory. She told me it was all off now. Do you know what she said?"
"No* what?"
"She said she'd been duped. What do you suppose she meant by that?"
"Could be anything."
"Just the night before Eleanor left* I told her that if she ever needed me* all she had to do was come to Rosehill."
"Why'd you go and tell her that?" Cole asked.
"She was being pitiful* crying like a baby*" Mary Rose explained. "I wouldn't worry about her showing up at the ranch though. It's too uncivilized out here for her. She's very sophisticated. But she hurt my feelings when she didn't say good-bye. I was her only friend* after all. I wasn't a very good friend though* was I?"
"Why do you think you weren't?"
"You know why*" she replied. "I tell stories about her and that isn't at all nice. Friends shouldn't talk about each other."
"You only told us about incidents that really happened* and you defended her to everyone at school. You never talked about her there* did you?"
"No."
"Then I don't see the harm. You've never criticized her* not even to us."
"Yes* but…"
"You also made sure she was invited to all the parties. Because of you* she was never left out."
"How did you know I did that?"
"I know you. You're always looking out for the misfits."
"Eleanor is not a misfit."
"See? You're already defending her again."
She smiled. "After I've talked matters over with you I always feel better. Do you really believe the lawyer will quit asking about us?"
"Yes* I do*" he answered.
She let out a sigh. "I missed you* Cole."
"I missed you too* brat."
She nudged him with her shoulder again. The talk turned to the ranch. While she'd been away at school* the brothers had purchased another section of land. Travis was in Hammond getting the supplies they needed to fence in a portion of the vast expanse so the horses would have enough grazing space to see them through the winter.
Cole and Mary Rose reached Rosehill a few minutes later. When she was just eight years old* she had named their home. She'd found what she believed were wild roses growing out on the hillside* declared it was a message sent to them from God telling them they were never supposed to leave* and all because her name was Mary Rose and so was her mama's. Adam didn't want to dampen her enthusiasm. For that reason* he didn't tell her the flowers were pink fireweed* not roses. He also felt that naming their ranch might give his sister an added bit of security. The name stuck* and within a year* even the residents of Blue Belle were referring to Clayborne homestead by the fanciful name.
Rosehill sat in the very middle of a valley deep in the Montana Territory. The land was flat around the ranch for nearly a quarter of a mile in every direction. Cole had insisted on building their home in the very center of the flat expanse so he would be able to see anyone trespassing on their land. He didn't like surprises; none of the brothers did* and as soon as the two-story house was finished* he built a lookout above the attic so they would always be able to see anyone trying to sneak up on them.
Majestic* snowcapped mountains provided the backdrop on the north and west sides of the meadow. The east side of the homestead was made up of smaller mountains and hills* which were useless land for ranchers because of their need for rich grazing pasture. Trappers worked the eastern slopes* however* as beaver and bear and timber wolf were still quite plentiful. Occasionally a worn* weary trapper would stop by the house for food and friendly conversation. Adam never turned a hungry man away* and if their guest was in need of a bed for the night* he'd put him in the bunkhouse.

[Dalyia]

There was only one easy way into the ranch* and that was from the main road that led over the hill from the town of Blue Belle. Outsiders were pretty worn out by the time they reached even the riverboat stop though. If they used wagons to haul their possessions* it usually took them a good day and a half more to reach Blue Belle. Most didn't bother to go farther than Perry or Hammond; only rugged* determined souls* or men on the run* ever continued on. While there were occasional whispers of gold hidden in the mountains to the north* none had actually been found* and that was the only reason the land had stayed uncluttered. Decent* law-abiding families* hoping to homestead free land* crossed the plains in prairie schooners or took their chances on any one of the multitude of riverboats navigating the Missouri River. By the time most of these families got to a large town* they were happy to stay there. It was somewhat civilized in the larger towns* which of course was a powerful lure to the eastern* church-going families. Honest folks cried out for law and order. Vigilante groups heard the call and soon cleaned out all the riffraff hanging around the larger towns* including Hammond.
In the beginning* the vigilantes were a solution* but later they became an even more threatening problem* for some of the men got into the nasty habit of hanging just about anyone they didn't like. Justice was swift and often unserved; hearsay was all the evidence needed to have a man dragged out of his house and hanged from the nearest tree limb. Even wearing a badge gave one no protection from a vigilante group.
The real misfits and gunfighters looking for easy money* who were quick and cunning enough to escape lynching* left the larger towns like Hammond and settled in and around Blue Belle.
For that reason* the town had a well-earned seedy reputation. Still* there were a few good families living in Blue Belle. Adam said it was only because they had got settled in before they realized their mistake.
Mary Rose was never allowed to go into Blue Belle alone. Since Adam never* ever left the ranch* it was up to Travis or Douglas or Cole to escort her on her errands. The brothers all took turns* and if it wasn't convenient for any of them to leave their chores* Mary Rose stayed home.
Cole slowed the horses when they reached the crest of the hill that separated the main road into town from the Clayborne estate. Mary Rose would ask him to stop the minute they reached the last curve that led down into their valley below.
She was as predictable as ever. "Please stop for a minute. I've been away such a long time."
He dutifully stopped the horses and then patiently waited for her next question. It would take her a minute or two. She had to get all emotional first* then her eyes would fill up with tears. "Do you feel it? Right now* do you feel it the way I do?" He smiled. "You ask me that same question every time I bring you home. Yes* I feel it."
He reached for his handkerchief and handed it to her. He'd learned a long time ago to carry one just for her. Once* when she was still a little girl* she'd used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe her nose. He wasn't about to ever let that happen again.
They had a panoramic view of their ranch and the mountains beyond. No matter how she remembered it* every time she came home* the first sight of such beauty would fairly overwhelm her. Adam told her it was because she gloried in God's creation and was humbled by it. She wasn't so certain about that* but the vibration of life coming from the land did stir her as nothing else could. She wanted her brothers to feel it too* this link between God and nature* and Cole would admit* but only to her* that yes* he did feel the pulse of life beating all around them. The land was never quite the same from glance to glance* yet always enduring.
"She's as alive and beautiful as ever* Mary Rose."
"Why is it you and Adam both call Montana a woman?"
"Because she acts like one*" Cole answered. He didn't blush or feel embarrassed talking such foolishness* because he knew his sister understood. "She's fickle and vain and won't ever be tamed by any man. She's a woman all right* and the only one I'll ever love."
"You love me."
"You're not a woman* Mary Rose. You're my sister."
She laughed. The sound echoed through the pine trees. Cole picked up the reins and started the horses down the gentle slope. They had lingered long enough.
"If she's a woman* she's taken us into her embrace. I wonder if my roses are beginning to wake up yet."
"You ought to know by now the flowers you found aren't roses. They're pink fireweed."
"I know what they are*" she replied. "But they're like roses."
"No* they aren't."
They were already bickering. Mary Rose sighed with contentment. She kept her attention focused on her home. Lord* she was happy to see her ranch again. The clapboard house was rather unimposing* she supposed* but it was still beautiful to her. The porch* or veranda* as Adam liked to call it* ran the length of the house on three sides. In the summer they would sit outside every evening and listen to the music of the night.
She didn't see her eldest brother working outside. "I'll bet Adam is working on his books."
"What makes you think so?"
"It's too nice a day to be cooped up inside unless there was book work to do*" she reasoned. "I can't wait to see him. Do hurry* Cole."
She was anxious for the reunion with all of her brothers. She had gifts for everyone* including a box full of books Adam would treasure* drawing paper and new pens for Cole to use when he was designing a new building to add to the ranch* medicine and brushes for Douglas to use on his horses* a new journal for Travis to keep the family history in* several catalogues* seed for the garden she* under Adam's supervision* would plant behind the house* chocolates* and store-bought flannel shirts for all of them.
The reunion was every bit as wonderful as she knew it would be. The family stayed up well into the night talking. Cole didn't tell his brothers about the attorney who had visited Mary Rose's school until after she had gone up to bed. He didn't want her to worry. He was worried* however. None of them believed in coincidences* and so they discussed every possible reason the lawyer could have to want information about the Clayborne family. Douglas and Cole had both done unsavory things when they were youngsters* but time and distance from the gangsters they'd preyed upon had convinced them their crimes had been forgotten. The real concern was for Adam. If the attorney had been hired by the sons of Adam's slave master to track him down* then trouble was coming their way.
Murder* they all knew* would never be forgotten. Adam had taken one life to save two others. It had been accidental* but the circumstances wouldn't be important to the sons. A slave had struck their father.
No* the father's death would never be forgotten or forgiven. It would be avenged.
An hour passed in whispered discussion* and then Adam* as head of the household* declared it was foolish to worry or speculate. If there was indeed a threat* they would have to wait to find out what it was.
"And then?" Cole asked.
"We do whatever it takes to protect each other*" Adam said.
"We aren't going to let anyone hang you* Adam. You only did what you had to do*" Travis said.
"We're borrowing trouble*" Adam said. "We'll keep our guard up and wait."
The discussion ended. A full month passed in peaceful solitude. It was business as usual* and Travis and Douglas were both beginning to think that perhaps nothing would ever come from the lawyer's inquiry.
The threat finally presented itself. His name was Harrison Stanford MacDonald* and he was the man who would tear all of their lives apart.
He was the enemy.



November 12* 1860
Dear Mama Rose*
Yore sun wanted me to show off my writing skil and so I am writing this her letter to you. We all work on gramer and speling afther Mary Rose goes to sleepe. Yore sun is a fine teecher. He dont lauf when we make misteaks and he always has good to say when we dun fore the nite. Since we are brothurs now I gues you belong to me to.
Yore sun*
Cole

[Dalyia]

Chapter 2
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Harrison Stanford MacDonald was learning all about the Clayborne family without asking a single question. He was a stranger in town and therefore should have been met with suspicion and mistrust. He had heard all about the wild and rugged* lawless towns dotting the West and read everything he could get his hands on as well. From all of his research* he'd learned that strangers inevitably fell into one of two groups. There were those men who were ignored and left alone because they kept to themselves but looked intimidating* and those men who got themselves killed because they asked too many questions.
The code of honor that existed in the West perplexed Harrison. He thought it was the most backward set of rules he'd ever heard. The inhabitants usually protected their own against outsiders* yet took it all in stride when one neighbor went after another. Killing each other seemed to be acceptable* providing* of course* that there was a hint of a good reason.
On his journey to Blue Belle* Harrison considered the problem he would have finding out what he needed to know and finally came up with what he believed was a suitable course of action. He decided to use the town's prejudice against strangers to his own advantage by simply turning the tables on them.
He arrived in Blue Belle around ten o'clock in the morning and became the meanest son-of-a-bitch who ever hit town. He acted outrageously suspicious of everyone who dared to even look his way. He wore his new black hat down low on his brow* turned up the collar of his long* brown trail duster* kept a hard scowl on his face* and sauntered down the middle of the main road the residents called a street* but which was really just a wide dirt path* acting as if he owned the place. He gave the word "sullen" new definition. He wanted to look like a man who would kill anyone who got in his way* and he guessed he'd accomplished his goal when a woman walking with her little boy caught sight of him striding toward her and immediately grabbed hold of her son's hand and went running in the opposite direction.
He wanted to smile. He didn't dare. He'd never find out anything about the Claybornes if he turned friendly. And so he maintained his angry hate-everyone-and-everything attitude.
They loved him.
His first stop was the always popular town saloon. Every town had one* and Blue Belle wasn't any different. He found the drinking establishment at the end of the road* went inside* and ordered a bottle of whiskey and one glass. If the proprietor found the request odd for such an early hour* he didn't mention it. Harrison took the bottle and the glass to the darkest corner in the saloon* sat down at a round table with his back to the wall* and simply waited for the curious to come and talk to him.
He didn't have to wait long. The saloon had been completely empty of customers when he had entered the establishment. Word of the stranger's arrival spread as fast as a prairie fire* however* and within ten minutes* Harrison counted nine men inside. They sat in clusters around the other tables spread about the saloon* and every single one of them was staring at him.
He kept his shoulders hunched forward and his gaze on his shot glass. The thought of actually taking a drink this early in the morning made his stomach want to lurch* and he didn't have any intention of swallowing a single sip* so he swirled the murky amber liquid around and around in his glass and tried to look as if he were brooding about something.
He heard whispering* then the shuffle of footsteps coming across the wooden floor. Harrison's hand instinctively went for his gun. He pushed his coat out of the way and rested his hand on the butt of his weapon. He stopped himself from pulling the gun free* then realized that what he'd done instinctively was actually what he should have done if he were going to continue his hostile charade.
"Mister* you new in town?"
Harrison slowly lifted his gaze. The man who'd asked the ridiculous question had obviously been sent over by the others. He was unarmed. He was also old* probably around fifty* with leathery* pockmarked skin* and he was about the homeliest individual Harrison had ever come across. Squinty brown eyes the size of marbles were all but lost in his round face* for the only feature anyone was ever going to notice was his gigantic potato-shaped nose. It was* in Harrison's estimation* a real attention getter.
"Who wants to know?" he asked* making his voice as surly as possible.
Potato-nose smiled. "My name's Dooley*" he announced. "Mind if I sit a spell?"
Harrison didn't respond to the question. He simply stared at the man and waited to see what he would do.
Dooley took his silence as a yes* dragged out a chair* and sat down facing Harrison. "You in town looking for someone?"
Harrison shook his head. Dooley turned to their audience. "He ain't looking for anyone*" he shouted. "Billie* fetch me a glass. I could use me a drink* if this stranger is willing to share."
He turned back to Harrison. "You a gunfighter?"
"I don't like questions*" Harrison replied.
"Nope* I didn't think you were a gunfighter*" Dooley said. "If you were* you would have heard Webster left town just yesterday. He was looking for a draw* but no one would oblige him* not even Cole Clayborne* and he's the only reason Webster really came to town. Cole's the fastest gun we got around here. He don't get into gunfights anymore though* especially now that his sister came home from school. She don't abide with gunfights* and she don't want Cole getting himself a bad reputation. Adam keeps him on the square*" he added with a knowing nod. "He's the oldest of the brothers and a real peacemaker* if you ask me. He's book smart too* and once you get over what he looks like* well* then* you realize he's the man you should go to if you got a problem. He usually knows what's to be done. You thinking of maybe settling around here or are you just passing through?"
Billie* the proprietor of the saloon* strutted over with two glasses in his hands. He put both of them down on the table and then motioned to a man sitting near the door.
"Henry* get on over here and shut your friend up. He's making a nuisance of himself asking so many questions. Don't want to see him killed before lunch. It's bad for business."
Harrison gave only half answers to the questions that followed. Henry joined them* and once he'd taken his seat* the proprietor pulled out a chair* hiked one booted leg up on the seat* and leaned forward with his arm draped across his knee. The three men were obviously fast friends. They liked to gossip and were soon interrupting each other with stories about everyone in town. The threesome reminded Harrison of old-maid aunts who liked to meddle but didn't mean anyone harm. Harrison filed away every bit of information they gave him* never once asking a question of his own.
The talk eventually turned to the availability of women in the area.
"They're as scarce as diamonds in these here parts* but we got us seven or eight eligible ones. A couple of them are right pretty. There's Catherine Morrison. Her pa owns the general store. She's got nice brown hair and all her teeth."
"She don't hold a candle to Mary Rose Clayborne*" Billie interjected.
Loud grunts of agreement came from across the room. Everyone inside the saloon* it seemed* was listening in on the conversation.
"She ain't just pretty*" a gray-haired man called out.
"She's a knock-your-breath-out-of-you looker*" Henry agreed. "And as sweet-natured as they come."
"Ain't that the truth*" Dooley said. "If you're in need of help* she'll be there to see you get it."
More grunts of agreement followed his statement.
"Injuns come from miles around just to get a swatch of her hair. She gets real exasperated* but she always gives them a lock. It's as pretty as spun gold. The Injuns think it brings them good luck. Ain't that right?" Henry asked Billie.
The proprietor nodded. "Once a couple of half-breeds tried to steal her off her ranch. They said they got themselves tranced by her blue eyes. Said they were magical* they did. You remember what happened then* boys?" he asked his friends.
Dooley let out a hoot of laughter. "I recollect it as sure as if it happened yesterday. Adam weren't no peacemaker that day* was he* Ghost?"
A man with stark white hair and a long* scraggly* white beard nodded.
"No* sir* he weren't*" he shouted. "As I recall* Adam almost tore one of the half-breeds clear in half. No one's tried to steal her since."
"Miss Mary don't get herself courted much*" Billie said. "It's a shame too. She should have two or three babies pulling at her skirts by now."
Harrison didn't have to ask why she wasn't courted. Dooley was happy to explain. "She's got herself four brothers none of us is willing to take on. No sirreee. You can't get to her without going through them. That's why she ain't married up yet. You'd best stay clear away from her."
"Oh* she won't have nothing to do with him*" Ghost shouted.
Dooley nodded. "She only takes to the bumbling ones and the weaklings. Seems to think it's her duty to look out for them. It's because she's so sweet-natured."
"I already told him that*" Henry said.
"She drives her brothers crazy the way she drags home the pitiful ones. Still* they got to put up with it*" Billie said.
"She likes us* and we ain't weaklings." Dooley obviously wanted to set the record straight.
"No* of course we ain't*" Henry agreed. "We wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea* mister. Miss Mary likes us because we've been around so long. She's used to us. You can get yourself a gander at her in a couple of hours. We like to line up in front of the store around noon so we can get a good* close look at her. She's always got something real nice to say to each one of us. I'm hoping her brother Douglas rides shotgun with her today."
"Why's that?" Billie asked.
"My mare's acting fussy again. I need the doc to take a look at her."
"If you're in need of a good horse* Douglas has a stable full*" Dooley told Harrison. "He tames the wild ones and sells them every now and then. He's got to like you though. He's peculiar about who gets hold of his horses. He ain't a real doctor* but we like to call him such."
"He don't like it none* Dooley. Says he ain't a doctor and we shouldn't be calling him one*" Ghost called out.
"I know that*" Dooley shouted back. His exasperation was apparent in his tone of voice. "That's why we never call him Doc to his face. He's got a special way with animals though* and he's good with his remedies."
"What kind of business are you in?" Billie asked Harrison. "I'm just being neighborly* mister*" he added.
"Legal work*" Harrison answered.
"That won't make you enough money to put food in your belly* at least not on a regular basis. You do anything else?"
"I hunt."
"Then you're a trapper*" Henry decreed.
Harrison shook his head. "Not exactly*" he hedged. He was on a hunt now* but he wasn't about to tell these men he was searching for a stolen child. She would be a fully grown woman by now.
"You're either a trapper or you ain't*" Henry said. "You got any equipment to trap with?"
"No."
'Then you ain't a trapper*" Henry told him. "What about ranching? You ever try your hand at ranching? You've got the build for it. I don't recall ever seeing anyone as big as you are* or as wide across the shoulders. A couple of the Clayborne brothers come to mind* and Johnny Simpson* of course* but I think you might be a half a head taller than any of them."
"You willing to tell us your name?" Henry asked.
"Harrison*" he answered. "My name's Harrison MacDonald."
"You got a last name for a first name* don't you?" Dooley remarked. "Will you take offense if I call you Harrison* or do you want to be called MacDonald?"
"Call me Harrison."
"Guess I should if you're gonna be settling here. You got yourself a real different-sounding twang in there with your words*" he added. He hastily put his hands up. "I don't mean you no insult. I'm just wondering now where you come from."
"California?" Henry guessed.
"I'm thinking Kentucky*" Ghost called out.
Harrison shook his head. "I was born in Scotland and raised in England*" he answered. "Across the ocean*" he added in case they didn't know where those countries were located.
"The town could use a lawyer*" Billie interjected. "We don't have any around these parts. If Adam Clayborne doesn't know the answer* then we got to go all the way to Hammond to get the help we need. Hanging Judge Burns will be happy to have you around. He gets upset when he has to work with… what does he call us?" he asked Dooley.
"Ignorant."
"That's the word. If you ask me* the law's gotten mighty tricky. There are too many papers to file with the government."
"Ain't that the truth*" Ghost called out. "Getting a piece of land used to be easy. You just squatted there and it was yours. Now you got to pay money and fill out papers."
"So you going to settle here then? I'll bet Morrison will rent out the storefront across the street from his store. You could put your shingle out and maybe earn a couple of dollars every month."

[Dalyia]

Harrison shrugged. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. I might settle down here* and then again* I might not. It's too soon to tell."
"You got enough money to hold you over until you decide?" Henry asked.
Harrison knew better than to admit he was carrying money.
"No*" he answered. "I don't suppose I have enough to last more than a couple of days."
"You'll get along*" Dooley advised. "You're big and you got muscle. You can always hire out and work to keep food on your table."
"That's what I figured*" Harrison lied.
"What exactly are you doing in Blue Belle?" Billie asked. "I know it isn't any of my business* but I'm curious to know. You mind telling us* mister?"
"Call me Harrison*" he said again. "I don't mind telling why I'm here. I'm on what I'm pretty certain is a wild-goose chase. At least the man I work for believes my trip will end up running after a dream."
"You already got yourself a job?" Dooley asked.
"I've taken a temporary leave."
"So you could end up staying here. Is that the way of it?" Henry asked.
"I suppose I could."
"I say you should stay*" Billie announced. "Don't work for anyone but yourself. That's our way. You don't have to answer to anyone."
"You mind answering a question about the law?" Ghost asked.
"What is it you want to know?"
"I'm thinking hard about stealing a horse*" Ghost announced. He stood up and walked over to the table. "The fella I'm thinking about robbing stole my woman years back* so* the way I see it* I ain't really doing nothing wrong. The law's on my side* right?"
Harrison leaned back in his chair. He stopped himself before he smiled. The question was amusing* but he didn't want Ghost to think he was laughing at him.
"Sorry to disappoint you*" he said. "Pride might be on your side* but the law isn't."
Dooley slapped his hand down on the tabletop and let out another hoot of laughter. "That's what I told him*" he announced in a near shout. "Pride will get him hung by the vigilantes if he steals Lloyd's horse."
Ghost didn't like Harrison's answer. He walked away from the table muttering to himself. His question opened the door for others* however* and for the next hour* Harrison dispensed free legal advice. Although he'd been educated at Oxford and had done his apprenticeship in England* he also worked for a man who owned two manufacturing plants. Because the company regularly shipped to the American east coast* Harrison had had to familiarize himself with the laws regulating export and import.
The difference between the way the law was interpreted by the courts in England and in America fascinated him. He tirelessly pored over any material about unusual decisions and cases that he could get his hands on.
His associates thought it was dry reading indeed* especially the older cases he'd wanted to discuss with them. He was told it was boring material at best* and it reminded them of all the mandatory reading they'd had to suffer through while at university. Harrison didn't agree. He loved reading the philosophers* especially Plato* and he enjoyed reading the opinions of the scholars who founded his country's government as well. But most of all* he loved the law. The discipline of the court system appealed to him. He thought it was imperative to keep up with all the latest decisions so that he could eventually become one of the best in his field. Good wasn't enough for him. Harrison strove for excellence in everything he undertook. Unfinished puzzles drove him crazy. Whatever he started* he finished.
His passion for the law and his compassion for his fellow man had made him unpopular in many circles. Because he worked for the powerful Lord Elliott* he had never actually been blackballed* although he'd certainly come close on several occasions* and all because he took on unpopular cases. He was rapidly getting a reputation for being a champion of the less fortunate in London's slums. He hadn't set out to become anyone's champion* of course* and if anyone had told him at school that he would eventually become a criminal lawyer* even on a part-time basis* Harrison would have thought he was out of his mind.
The unsought distinction had cost him his engagement to Lady Edwina Horner* who informed him in a letter that she couldn't abide being married to a scandal-setter* whatever in God's name that meant. Men who still called themselves his friend tried to warn him that he had to get over his ridiculous notion that the poor in England should be entitled to the same rights as the rich. Harrison* however* refused to accept such an elitist* self-serving view.
"Maybe them laws in England are different from our laws*" Ghost suggested. He strolled back across the room and gave Harrison a hopeful look. "I'm thinking that maybe I wouldn't get hanged* if I stole the horse* because Lloyd started the dirt first."
Harrison shook his head. Ghost* it appeared* wasn't ready to give up his plan.
"I've studied enough American law to know you'll still be found guilty."
"Even though he wasn't on the square and he started the dirt first?"
While Harrison wasn't familiar with either of those odd expressions* he still felt he was giving sound advice. "Even so."
Another round of questions followed. All the curious who'd started out watching him from across the saloon had filed over to Harrison's table and now formed a half circle. None of them seemed to be in any particular hurry to get on with their day.
The doors to the saloon suddenly flew open. "Miss Mary's coming. Cole's riding behind her."
The man who shouted the announcement bounded off at a trot down the walkway.
The reaction to the news was astonishing to witness. Every single one of the men jumped to his feet and ran outside. Dooley was almost knocked to his knees in the stampede. He eventually regained his balance and turned back to Harrison.
"Ain't you coming along? You ought to at least take a peek at our Miss Mary. She's worth your time."
Because Dooley might have thought it peculiar if Harrison hadn't shown an interest* he got up from the table and followed the old man out the doorway. Harrison wasn't in any hurry to meet the young woman* however* and Dooley was already down the block and halfway across the street before Harrison reached the hitching post in front of the corner building.
His hunt could very well end in just a few minutes. Harrison was suddenly filled with all sorts of conflicting emotions. He had made a promise to Lord Elliot that this adventure would be his last attempt to solve this puzzle* and if Elliot turned out to be correct* then traveling all this distance had been just another wild-goose chase.
He let out a weary sigh. The facts* Elliot had argued* were indisputable. Mary Rose Clayborne couldn't possibly be his daughter. Victoria was an only child. Mary Rose had four older brothers. Yet while that information had been verified by the attorney in St. Louis* the man had also included several other comments Harrison found intriguing. Mary Rose had been on her guard throughout the interview and refused to give even the names of her brothers. The attorney reported that although she'd been extremely polite* it was apparent to him that she was afraid. The superior hadn't been able to persuade the young lady to cooperate.
The headmistress had proven most helpful however. She told the attorney that two of Mary Rose's brothers had traveled with their sister to the school at the beginning of each term. She hadn't met either one* hadn't even seen them at a distance* and* therefore* couldn't describe the gentlemen. She had heard a disturbing rumor about one of the brothers* but she refused to give the attorney any details.
She declared she wasn't a gossip and that Mary Rose was a model student* once she'd made the adjustment to life in a boarding school* and the vile rumor one of the girls had started was quickly stopped. No one would ever have believed it anyway* of course. Gossip was for peasants and not for proper young ladies.
She couldn't be pressed for more.
Harrison shook his head. Gossip couldn't be relied on* of course. It was probably just as Elliot had predicted it would be. Another case of two women looking somewhat alike. Elliot had urged Harrison to let it go* as the older man himself finally had* and accept the soul-destroying evidence that little Victoria Elliott had died shortly after she'd been taken. In his heart* Harrison knew Elliott was right* but every time he looked at the man who had protected Harrison's father for so many years* he would become compelled to go on just one more hunt.
Harrison believed he was a realist* yet even so* his gut instinct had told him to go to Montana and find out the truth for himself. He wasn't completely grasping at rainbows. He had already been in America when he had received the wire regarding the latest sighting* and Chicago was just a day's ride away from where he'd been staying. It didn't take him any time at all to go to the outskirts of the city to talk to the woman who believed she'd met Elliott's daughter. After talking to Mrs. Anna Middleshaw and hearing the report of the attorney he'd then had interview Mary Rose* he decided it would be worth his while to go into the wilderness. Mrs. Middleshaw didn't appear to be a woman given to theatrics or emotion. She was actually quite level-headed. She believed with all her heart that she had seen Lady Victoria. Her argument was valid. No one* she said* could look that much like another without being related. Harrison wanted to believe she was right.