Coming Up Roses (24 page)

“
I’m sure.” Annie huffed.

“
It’s true, Annie,” Rose said,
indignant on H.L. May’s behalf. “He’s a reporter. If he wants to be
a good one, he needs to be able to talk to all types of
people.”

“
Whatever you say, dear. Just watch
yourself. I don’t trust that man.”

“
I know you don’t.” Rose felt defeated,
and she hadn’t even started out on the night’s most important job
yet.

A muffled knocking sound came from outside
the tent flap, and both women turned to look at the flap before
exchanging glances with each other. Annie heaved a huge sigh. Rose
hurried over to lift the flap.

Her heart did a flying leap when she beheld
H.L. May, garbed in dark clothing and carrying his ever-present
notebook. She assumed it had been the notebook upon which he’d
thumped in order to create the knock she and Annie had heard.

“
Mr. May,” she said, unaccountably
flustered to see him. There was no reason for her to be agitated,
since she’d known for hours that he was coming to get her tonight.
“Please come in. I only have to get my jacket and put on my
boots.”

“
Sure thing.” H.L. had to stoop as he
ducked under the tent flap and entered her tent. He spotted Annie
and grinned at her. “Good evening, Mrs. Butler.”

“
How do you do?” Annie inquired
stiffly.

H.L.’s eyes opened wide, and Rose could tell
he understood precisely what Annie thought of him. Apparently,
Annie’s opinion amused him, because his grin broadened. “I’m quite
well, thanks. You?”

“
Fine, thank you.”

“
Good.” Still smiling, H.L. allowed his
gaze to stray over the insides of Rose’s tent. He seemed interested
in her possessions, which increased Rose’s level of discomfort. He
walked to her bed and lifted a picture from the night table. “Is
this a picture of your folks, Miss Gilhooley?”

“
Yes.” She carried that picture with
her everywhere she went. It had gone to New York City, London,
Paris, Rome, and all points beyond and between for six years
now.

“
Handsome couple. It’s clear where you
get your good looks.”

What
? Rose
didn’t screech the question, but she felt like it. Rather, she
concentrated on picking up her boots and moving to a chair, where
she sat to put them on.

H.L. placed the picture back on the night
table and continued to peruse the insides of the tent. He walked to
the trunk where Rose had laid out commendations and awards she’d
been given by various individuals, including heads of state, kings,
princes, Indian chiefs, and even an African tribal chieftain. “This
is quite an impressive array.”

“
You ought to see Annie’s collection,
if you think those are impressive.” She shoved her feet into her
boots, shrugged into her jacket, stood up, and stamped to get her
feet to slide down properly into her boots. “I’m ready.”

He turned and surveyed her. “You look swell.”
He laughed.

“
Mr. May.”

That was Annie, and her voice held a sharp
edge. Both H.L. and Rose glanced at her. She was standing straight
and had her hands folded at her waist. This, Rose recognized, was
Annie’s stern look, and it presaged a lecture. Rose hoped it
wouldn’t be a long, uncomfortable one.

“
Yes, ma’am?” H.L. finally removed his
hat, which he ought to have done as soon as he’d entered the tent.
Rose wondered if this lapse in manners betokened a lack of respect
for rules on his part, or a lack of respect for Rose Gilhooley. She
had her suspicions.

“
I don’t know that I approve of this
harebrained scheme to find Bear in Winter.”

H.L. opened his mouth and took a breath, but
Annie cut him off curtly before he could speak.

“
Yes, I understand that the Chicago
police aren’t willing to bestir themselves on Bear’s behalf. And I
know Rose is probably the best white tracker in the area at the
moment. I am still concerned, and I expect you to take care of her.
I presume you can be trusted?”

She gave him a flinty stare. H.L.’s grin
faded. He looked both surprised and a little hurt. Rose wondered if
he was pretending the hurt part.

“
Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I aim to do
everything in my power to see that Miss Gilhooley remains safe
tonight, believe me.”

“
Hmmm.”

Rose decided that, while it was nice that
Annie was concerned, Rose was really old enough to take care of
herself. “I’ll be fine,” she told Annie. “I’ve got enough arms on
and about my person to fend off a hundred H.L. Mays, should they
try to do anything.” She was aiming to be amusing, but H.L. didn’t
look as if he found her comment funny.

“
Say,” he cried irritably. “I’m not the
bad guy here. I’m out to find that kid. I’m the hero of this piece,
remember?”

“
Hmmm,” Annie said again. “I guess
we’ll have to wait and see about that.”

“
Jeeze,” H.L. muttered. “You’re pretty
hard on a guy who’s never done anything to you, if you don’t mind
my saying so, Mrs. Butler.”

“
I am concerned about my friend,” Annie
said flatly. “And I don’t trust you.”

“
Annie!” Rose felt her cheeks bloom
with embarrassment. “I’m sure Mr. May has never done anything to
earn your mistrust.”

“
Not yet. We’ll see,” she said. “Here’s
the Colt. I want you to be sure to keep it at your back, as I
taught you.”

“
Right.” Opting to drop the
untrustworthiness subject as too volatile to prolong, Rose was glad
to take the gun. She checked it over to make sure it was loaded
properly, even though she’d seen Annie load it. It was a habit, and
a good one, and Rose knew Annie wouldn’t object. She stuffed it
carefully into the waistband of her men’s trousers, at her back so
that it couldn’t be seen, and fiddled with it until she’d assured
herself that it was both comfortable and reachable.

“
Gracious, Miss Gilhooley, do you
really think you’ll need that?”

“
Yes,” said Rose.

“
Yes,” said Annie.

H.L. was startled by the firm duet of female
voices. “Well, all right, but I sure hope you won’t.”

“
So do I,” said Rose.

“
And I,” said Annie.

“
And I also have my derringer up my
sleeve, my Smith and Wesson—that one’s in my jacket pocket—and my
Bowie knife.”

“
Lord on High. You believe in being
prepared, don’t you?”

“
Yes,” Rose told him. “I do.” She gave
her hat a pat and said again,

“
I’m ready.”

“
All righty. Let’s be off.” As Rose
left the tent, H.L. turned back one last time to speak to Annie.
“Try not to worry, Mrs. Butler. I’ll take care of her. I promise I
won’t let anything happen to her.”

Annie gave him a doubtful nod. “I sincerely
hope so.”

# # #

H.L. was honestly offended by the lack of
trust demonstrated by Annie Oakley. “What does that woman think I
aim to do to you, anyway?” he grumbled. “Hell, we’re out to perform
a rescue here.”

“
Annie and I both grew up in difficult
circumstances, Mr. May. Annie is my best friend, and she wants me
to be safe.”

Rose lifted her chin in a gesture of defiance
H.L. had become accustomed to long since. It tickled him every time
she did it. Feeling more cheerful, he said, “Well, all right, but I
think she was pretty mean to me.” He eyed her from his superior
height. “You’re looking mighty spiffy tonight, Miss Gilhooley.” He
laughed. “Nobody will ever know you’re the famous Wind Dancer of
Buffalo Bill’s Wild West.”

“
Good. I don’t want them to.” She
frowned up at him. “So, did you learn anything?”

No joking around allowed, he guessed. Vaguely
disappointed, because he’d really like to get to know her better,
H.L. sighed and said, “Yes. I talked to Milk-Eye Pete, who hangs
out at the dock. When I gave him the description of the nabber, he
recognized him. He says he’s part of a band of folks who
occasionally take children and sell them to various people for
different enterprises.”

“
Then you weren’t joking? People
honestly and truly sell children? Good Lord! Who’d do such a
terrible thing? I mean, I know somebody took Bear, but—but—surely,
they can’t do such things on a regular basis. Can they?”

She appeared honestly horrified. H.L. found
the situation moderately horrifying, too, although it wasn’t news
to him as it was to Rose. People could be more bestial than the
beasts themselves sometimes.

“
Yes, they can, and no, I wasn’t
joking. Unfortunately, it’s the truth. I guess children are a hot
commodity in some quarters.”

“
Good gracious. It’s hard to believe
such things actually happen regularly.”

“
I agree. Milk-Eye Pete doesn’t like it
much, either. He’s not exactly an admirable character, but he
doesn’t like what he calls baby-snatchers.”

She stopped looking horrified and frowned as
if some other thought had struck her. “Um, did you say Milk-Eye
Pete?”

“
Yeah. He’s got a bum eye.”

“
Ew.” She made a face. “That’s not a
very nice thing to call him.”

“
I guess it’s not. Folks on the edges
of society tend to call people by descriptive terms.”

“
It’s still not very nice.”

H.L. experienced the strangest urge to pick
her up and take her home with him. She was so damned adorable, he
could hardly stand it. She had such spirit and gumption, and she
was so innocent and so wise, all at the same time, he just . . .
well, he didn’t know, but he really liked being with her.

Since he couldn’t act on his urge or become a
kidnapper himself, he stuck his hands into his pockets and said,
“No, it’s not.”

They walked without talking for a few
minutes. H.L. had hired a cab and a driver to take them to the dock
this evening, since it was impractical to walk through some of the
neighborhoods he expected to be frequenting, especially at night.
After a minute or two, he pointed up the street. “That’s our cab
there. I decided to hire a hack so we wouldn’t have to walk
everywhere.”

“
Oh.” Rose sounded doubtful.

H.L. wondered if she suspected him of motives
that weren’t pure. Shaking his head, he guessed he shouldn’t be
surprised if she did. If she and Annie Oakley were the best of
friends, as she’d said they were—and he believed her—Rose probably
considered him the lowest of the low. H.L. resented that.

He’d worked hard to cultivate his
devil-may-care newspaperman persona, but he wasn’t a bad man, and
he didn’t like being taken for one. Hell, he was a good guy. If he
cursed sometimes, and took a drink with the boys occasionally, and
hung out with ruffians from time to time for the sake of a story,
that didn’t mean he wasn’t an honorable fellow underneath it all.
He’d never force a woman to surrender to his lusts, for
instance.

The notion of Rose surrendering to his lusts
on her own and without being forced was such an appealing one, he
discovered he was getting hard. With a stern internal lecture, he
commanded himself to keep his mind on the business at hand. And
what he wouldn’t like to do with his hands on Rose’s body. Oh, my,
he could envision the process even as they walked together. He’d
undress her slowly, slowly, making maximum use of his finger and
hands, until she was squirming beneath him and begging him to have
his way with her.

“
Damn,” he growled, furious that his
mind had wandered down such a frustrating road. As if little Rose
Gilhooley would ever let him touch her.

“
What’s the matter, Mr.
May?”

He glanced at her, scowling, and she seemed
taken aback by his bitter expression. Since his own unruly feelings
weren’t her fault, he made a monumental effort, hauled his mind out
of the gutter, and even managed to smile, sort of. “Not a thing,
Miss Gilhooley. Just thinking about—things.”

“
Ah, yes. Bear in Winter.” She cast him
a worried frown. “If we can get to the general neighborhood where
he’s being held, I’m sure I’ll be able to track him
down.”

They reached the hack, and H.L. gave the
driver a two-fingered salute.

The driver nodded back, chucked the cigarette
he’d been smoking into the gutter, and said, “Thought you’d
forgotten you’d hired me, Mr. May.”

H.L. grinned up at him. “No such luck,
Chauncy. And you’re still getting a bonus for driving us around the
dock, too.”

“
I don’t like it down there. Bonus or
not, if anybody tries to knife me, I’m outta there.”

“
Knife you?” Rose stopped in the
process of entering the cab and stared up at the driver.
Unfortunately, she stopped with her nicely rounded bottom in H.L.’s
face. H.L. sighed deeply and decided the fates were against him
tonight. “Good heavens, is it really that rough?”

“
I’m afraid so,” H.L. said. Because he
couldn’t seem to help himself, he put both hands on Rose’s bottom
and shoved. “In you go, little brother.”

“
Mr. May!”

The cabbie squinted down at H.L., who
shrugged and clambered into the cab after Rose. He hissed, “Hush
up. We don’t want anybody, not even the cab driver, to know you’re
not a boy.”

Rose angrily tugged at her vest and jacket.
“That’s no reason to put your hands on my person!”

Since she’d whispered her reprimand, H.L.
didn’t bother to shush her again. He muttered, “Sorry,” but wasn’t.
The more he saw of Rose, the more he wanted to see of her. In more
ways than one, darn it. He gazed at her chest and wondered how
she’d managed to flatten that magnificent bosom of hers. It was a
crime, that, and H.L.’s resentment against the man or men who’d
snatched Bear in Winter edged up another notch.