Give My Love to Rose (37 page)

Sure she might cry a bit and she might look
like someone had ripped her heart out and stomped it in the dirt
but she kept moving and Jeremiah respected that. Seeing that side
of the woman made Jeremiah understand, at least a little, his
brother’s reasons for catching the crazy.

Jeremiah shook his head and headed toward
the barn, his boots, and his heart, both feeling as heavy as chunks
of lead.

***

Packing up was a somber affair. Due to their
lack of many personal belongings, it didn’t take long until their
things were loaded into the small cart. Jeremiah found a length of
canvas folded in the barn loft and he used it to cover what little
the family had to take with them.

“
Alright, Langley, you get
to ride the brown mare,” Jeremiah said, placing the reins in the
boy’s hand.

Langley took the reins but didn’t say a
word. As a matter of fact Jeremiah hadn’t heard him say a word all
day—he felt worry for the boy grow in the pit of his stomach.

“
Rose will drive the cart
and Kaitlyn, you can ride beside her,” Jeremiah directed as he
swung himself up onto his gray.

“
What are we going to do
with the rest of the animals?” Kaitlyn asked as she pulled herself
onto the cart.

“
We’ll give them to Tray
and his family,” Rose replied. “We’ll stop by the shop while we’re
in town and let him know.”

Jeremiah let his gaze linger on Rose and
felt the hint of a smile curved his lips. She was the picture of
contrast. She wore a simple blue dress and a white lacy bonnet over
her full soft body and curls but with that dress and bonnet she
wore Marston’s gun belt around her waist and his bandolier across
her chest.

Softness and light contrasted sharply with
worn leather and glinting metal.

It felt like Marston was still riding with
them—even Langley had a piece of the man at his side with Marston’s
big knife strapped to his leg and hanging almost comically past his
knee along with his big gray hat atop his head… the hat kept
falling forward and Langley kept shoving it back, but he didn’t
take it off.

Jeremiah wondered if his brother had
realized just how deeply these folks loved him.

Without a backward glance, the group set off
toward town and the ramshackle cabin faded into the distance
becoming nothing more than a memory.

***

“
Thank you, Rose. My
family could sure use those critters,” Trey said, wringing his hat
in his soot-blackened hands. His eyes were sad as he glanced toward
the half of his building that had served as Marston’s gun shop.
Rose chose not to glance that way. She didn’t want to see all his
tools sitting unused. It made things too final.

Trey sighed. “I was real surprised to hear
about Marston… are you doing okay?”

Rose held her head high. “He might have done
bad in his past, but Marston was a good man and the man he was
during his time here was someone to be proud of.”

Trey nodded. “Marston always did good by me.
He was a good man, good to work around and, hell, he helped me put
the new roof on my house so my wife wouldn’t get sicker when it
rained.”

“
Marston was a blessing,”
Rose agreed, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from
crying.

“
So where are you all
heading off to?” Trey asked, sliding his hat back on his
head.

Before Rose could respond, Jeremiah stepped
forward. “We’re not sure yet,” he said quickly. “They just need a
change of scenery.”

Trey shook Jeremiah’s hand. “I understand
that. Take good care of them.”

As the family left he blacksmith shop and
headed toward the H&H Mercantile, Langley shot an accusing
glance at Jeremiah. “Why did you lie to Mr. Trey?”

“
I just think it would be
best if no one knew where we were going,” Jeremiah
replied.

Rose understood. She knew that Trey wouldn’t
turn on them intentionally, but men like Vincent and those with him
had a way of getting information out of people—it would be best if
Trey had no information to give.

“
Let’s get our supplies
and get gone,” Jeremiah mumbled. “I’d like to cover at least a few
miles before we set up camp for the night.”

They stepped into the mercantile and Rose’s
defenses instantly raised when Hester sneered at her from behind
the counter. “Well, apparently we still have some trash stinking up
our town,” she sniffed as she glared at Jeremiah.

“
Hester, please don’t be
rude,” Rose pleaded, exhaustion filling her. “We simply want to get
a few supplies and then we’re leaving Louisiana.”

Hester’s cow eyes widened as she studied
Rose. “Are you going into battle?” she asked with a laugh.

Rose sighed as she began to place scoops of
jerked beef into a burlap sack. “I couldn’t stand to see Marston’s
things packed away. He took such pride in them.”

Hester raised her nose. “Yes, well, I don’t
believe I’d be comfortable carrying something that had shed
innocent blood.”

Rose tensed and turned her attention to
Langley and Kaitlyn. “Children, go wait at the cart.”

“
But mama…” Langley
countered.

Rose shook her head and fixed him with a
stern gaze. The children had been through enough heartache in the
last few days and they didn’t need to hear the hate that this
horrible woman loved to spread. “Cart now,” Rose repeated.

Langley appeared ready to argue once again,
but Kaitlyn took his arm and tugged him toward the door. He
reluctantly followed her outside but not before tossing a warning
glare at Hester.

“
It’s better, truly, for
those poor babies that Marston is no longer around,” Hester
quipped, fussing with her hair. “A murderer is hardly a good
influence for young ones.”

Rose had heard enough. She whirled around
and slammed her hands on the counter. “That’s enough!” She was
aware of Jeremiah simply standing to the side with his arms cross
over his chest.

Hester blinked several times before
straightening jars on the counter. “Yelling is hardly
ladylike.”

“
I can honestly say I
don’t care,” Rose assured her. “I have had as much as I am going to
take of your hatefulness. Marston was a good man to me and he was a
wonderful father and I will not let you say otherwise to his
children.”

“
Honestly!” Hester huffed.
“Those aren’t his children. And that bastard growing in your womb
is lucky it will never know its father.”

Something snapped within Rose. She had
always strived for peace and hated violence, but just now all she
wanted was to take off Hester’s head. Rose launched herself toward
the counter, stretching out her hands to wring the woman’s
neck.

Jeremiah’s neck snaked around her waist at
the last moment and pulled her back, securing her body against his.
“Easy there, girl,” he warned. “You’ve got precious cargo in
there.”

Rose breathed several deep breaths through
her nose as she stared Hester down. Hattie came waddling in from
the back. “What’s going on out here?”

Her eyes widened when she saw the way
Jeremiah was holding Rose and the way Hester was gloating.

Jeremiah gave her the condensed version of
the morning’s events. “Rose came in here to get a few things, but
your harpy of a sister can’t keep her mouth closed.”

“
Hester! You have to quit
being so meddlesome!” Hattie scolded, her chins bouncing and her
finger-wagging. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”

“
I haven’t done a bit of
damage,” Hester countered, pulling off her spectacles and wiping
them on her apron. “I simply removed a dangerous and wanted man
from the streets of our town.”

Rose’s blood ran cold. “What do you
mean?”

Hester’s lips curled. “I turned Marston into
the authorities of course. I let Marshall Montgomery know exactly
where to find the brute.”

Rose sagged in Jeremiah’s arms and he
grunted at her sudden weight. Every ounce of fight seeped out of
her as she stared at the woman who had helped take away the father
her children needed.

“
How could you?” Rose
whispered as tears gathered in her eyes. “All these years you’ve
been so cruel, but this? What have I ever done to deserve such
hatred?”

“
That man deserves to die
for what he’s done,” Hester stated simply as she slid her
spectacles back onto her thin face.

Jeremiah took Rose by the shoulders. “Come
on now. Let’s get you back outside,” he urged.

Rose put no thoughts into her movements as
Jeremiah led her out the door. She couldn’t think—could barely
breathe! Jeremiah helped her into the cart and sighed. “You three
stay here. I’ll get the supplies.”

“
Jeremiah…” Rose
whispered, a tear slipping free. “She took him away from
us.”

“
I know.” Was all Jeremiah
said before disappearing back into the mercantile.

***

A nightmare had Rose waking with a start in
the middle of the night. She grew tired of these nightmares.
Nightmares that had trembling and covered in sweat and unable to
find sleep again.

Rose glanced at Langley and Kaitlyn who were
curled up beneath the cart sound asleep and slid out of their
makeshift bed to walk to the dying firelight. She picked up a stick
and began to poke at the fire in an attempt to breathe more life
into it.

The day replayed itself in her mind and Rose
shook her head. Hester was a monster. Rose had known that the woman
hated Marston but she hadn’t realized that hatred had been so
strong that Hester would go out of her way to rip Marston from his
family and the wife and children that needed him.

And then there was Jeremiah’s reaction to it
all… Rose stabbed harder at the fire causing orange ashes to rise
into the air. Jeremiah’s reaction had been far too non-violent for
the mood Rose had been in. He hadn’t said a word to Hester. He had
simply paid for their supplies, loaded them up and driven the
family out of town.

What kind of man did that? What kind of man
learned who had sent his brother to his death and did nothing?

Speaking of Jeremiah… Rose glanced at the
empty bedroll beside the fire and realized he was gone. His horse
was gone as well. Had Jeremiah abandoned them? Would he do
something like that?

Rose felt fear rising within her, but it was
quickly quelled when the sound of an approaching horse reached her
ears and Jeremiah rode into camp. He jumped from the gray and
removed his hat. The firelight barely illuminated his face, but
Rose saw his frown.

“
What are you doing up?”
he asked.

“
I couldn’t sleep,” she
replied, dropping her stick into the fire. “Where have you
been?”

“
I was taking care of a
problem.” His frosty voice made her shiver.

“
What problem?”

“
A rat problem. A rat with
big eyes and a nasty disposition. I wondered if there’d be a fight,
but she went down pretty easy.”

Rose frowned, wondering if the man had lost
his mind, and then realization dawned on her. Jeremiah stepped
forward slightly and she saw the blood splattered across his
threadbare shirt.

Hester was dead.

Rose’s knees weakened and her hands shook.
Jeremiah had murdered a woman and he didn’t seem the least bit
sorry to have done so. When his eyes met hers, Rose saw a level of
coldness and detachment in them that she had never seen in
Marston’s.

“
Get some sleep, Rose,” he
urged, tipping his head toward the cart. “We need to get a lot more
grown covered tomorrow.” Without another word, Jeremiah grabbed his
saddlebags off the gray and walked into the woods.

Rose wasted no time in getting back to her
bed. She curled up on blanket upon the hard ground and tried to
calm her racing heart. What frightened her more than Jeremiah’s
actions and even his lack of remorse, was the fact that knowing
Hester was dead made her happy..

Happy!

Maybe Rose was a monster.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Marston clicked his swollen tongue against
the roof of his dry mouth several times in a wasted attempt to get
a bit of moisture. He rolled his shoulders to ease his aching
muscles, but that only served to aggravate the seeping wounds that
the Marshall’s whip had placed on his flesh.

That was the last time Marston would call
the man an inbred, no-brained, ball-less coward.

‘
No it won’t,’ that voice
in his head countered and instead of arguing, Marston nodded in
agreement. As a matter of fact, Marston had a whole new batch of
insults he’d been stringing together in his head all day just
waiting on the Marshall to pop his head back in.

Without giving much thought to his motions,
Marston leaned his back against the cool stone wall and leaped away
from it with a curse and a hiss. He contemplated ramming his head
into those unforgiving stones until he died—surely that would hurt
less.

Marston could smell the infection in his
back and he knew that given time, the fresh bloody stripes across
his chest would be the same. He was battling a fever, a headache,
and exhaustion.

Marston wanted to die. He was ready to die.
Hell, in all the ways that mattered he’d been dead since the
Marshall and his deputies had led him away from that cabin and the
only people in the world who mattered.

How long ago had that been? How long had
Marston been in this dirty, damp cell? It didn’t matter anymore.
All Marston knew for sure was that he would be going swinging
tomorrow. The Marshall had made it clear that his hanging was
scheduled for the next day and a big crowd was expected to turn out
for the special event.