Wild Roses (12 page)

“Ella,” he said, shaking her slightly as she lay in his arms, but she did not even open her eyes.

He cursed and sat her on his horse. As quickly as he could, he hitched Polly to the same lead George's horse was on. Holding Ella's limp body steady, Harrigan remounted and enclosed her securely between his arms as he took up his reins again. He saw no outward signs of fever or of any other illness, but something was wrong, and he knew he had to find shelter and aid.

As he rode, Harrigan tried very hard to find someone to blame for Ella's condition, someone besides himself, but to no avail. He was the one who had dragged her from her secure, happy life with her aunt to take her back to Philadelphia. He was also the one who insisted they ride the open trail like cowhands or prospectors because he dared not stop in a town where he might have to elude or do battle with Louise. Harold may have started the game, but it was he, Harrigan Mahoney, who was the key player. He decided that, if he could find no one else to help Ella, he would hurry to the nearest town where the railroad passed through and find Louise.

Harrigan was already following the road to a town by the time he saw a small homestead. He nudged his horse into a trot. Once at the gate of the rough-hewn rail fence, he dismounted and took Ella into his arms. Pausing only to loop his mount's reins over a post, he walked to the front door and knocked.

It did not surprise Harrigan to be met by a man armed with a rifle. People in such desolate places had to be cautious. A young, plump brunette warily peered out from behind the tall, burly man facing Harrigan. It was hard to push aside his concern and recall his manners, but Harrigan managed a small nod of greeting for the woman before fixing his gaze on the black-bearded man blocking the doorway.

“I hate to impose, but I desperately need some help,” he said.

“Is your wife sick?” the man asked, relaxing a little as he looked the unconscious Ella over carefully.

Harrigan barely stopped himself from correcting the man's false impression. A man and his wife traveling together would be welcome. A man dragging a young, unwed woman back to a place she did not want to go to would be met with suspicion, perhaps even anger. If these people found out the truth about him and Ella, he could easily find himself on the wrong side of the big man's rifle again. Harrigan decided to let the man believe that he and Ella were married and pray that, when Ella was sensible again, she would allow him to continue that lie.

As succinctly as he could, Harrigan told them everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. He was not really surprised when he was immediately invited inside. As the man went to tend to the horses and get their bags, the woman showed him to a seat then hurried to freshen the linen on her bed. She ignored Harrigan's protests over putting the couple out of their own bedroom.

Willie Lindon and his wife Rose proved to be far more helpful than Harrigan could have hoped for. Rose was certain that Ella had no real illness, that she was simply exhausted from her ordeal. At the woman's insistence, Harrigan helped her bathe Ella, Willie dutifully heating up the water they needed. They dressed Ella in her modest white nightgown, dried her hair, and tucked her up in the Lindons' bed.

Ella roused herself only a little throughout it all. Harrigan found it somewhat comforting that Ella stayed conscious enough for long enough to eat a small bowl of Rose's hearty venison stew. Although Ella did manage to say a few things, to Harrigan's relief she said nothing that could expose his lie to the Lindons. She murmured no more than a few confused questions and well-practiced expressions of gratitude.

Harrigan put aside his concern for Ella long enough to have a meal and visit with the Lindons. Hungry for information, they asked him a disconcerting number of questions. He answered everything carefully, not wishing to lie too profusely. It not only seemed an ill return for their kindness, but he did not want to tangle himself up in so many half-truths that he was unable to remember everything he had said. Ella could be sicker than Rose thought and they might end up being guests of the Lindons for a few days.

“I can't thank you enough for all your kindness,” Harrigan said to Willie as he sat on the front porch with the man, enjoying a neatly rolled cigarette as Rose cleared away the remains of the meal.

“Glad to help,” Willie replied, handing Harrigan a cup of homebrew. “Nice to have visitors. We don't get into town much since it takes most of a day to get there, and the town ain't grown enough yet so that folk have moved out closer to us. It'll happen soon. People coming here all the time. Have a lot of folk who just get weary of traveling and stop here rather than going on to California or some of them other far-off places.”

“After all of the traveling I've done, I can easily understand that.”

“Haven't seen too many folk headed the other way, going back East to them crowded cities.”

Harrigan smiled and took a cautious sip of the strong liquor, struggling not to cough as it burned its way down his throat. “Wyoming doesn't have much use for what I'm skilled at and I need to make a living.”

“Not a farmer or a cowhand, huh?”

“No. Born and raised in the city. Perhaps I just need to learn a few things before I try to be a pioneer.”

“I don't mean no disrespect, but maybe your wife ain't one of them women who can set out from all she knows and start anew. She's just a little bit of a thing.”

“She is, isn't she?” Harrigan laughed softly. “She's a lot stronger than she looks, spirited, determined, and quick-witted.” He shook his head. “Hell, I was getting tired and sore. It's no surprise that she collapsed. I just hope that your wife is right, that Ella is simply very, very tired, that running from that tornado sapped the last of her strength.”

“My Rose is real skilled at healing folk. If she says the girl's just tired, that she just needs a good rest and some good food, then, mark my words, that's exactly what ails your wife.”

“I really hope so. Guilt has a very sour taste.”

“Don't feel so bad. She made her choice.”

Harrigan inwardly winced, but managed a brief smile for Willie. “I'll remind her of that when she starts to complain.”

It took Harrigan longer than he liked to finish Willie's eye-watering liquor, and he was already feeling its potency by the time he excused himself to go to bed. He held the door open so that Rose could step out and sit with her husband, then lingered just inside for a moment as he tried to shake free of the homebrew's grip. When Rose and Willie began to talk, he knew he ought to move away, at least far enough away so that he could not eavesdrop on their conversation, but then he heard his name.

“You know, lovey, there's something not right about Harrigan and Ella,” Willie said. “Not bad, mind you, but just not right, either.”

Rose laughed softly. “You probably sensed that they're not really married.”

“You mean we've been lied to?”

“Not really. We said
wife.
He didn't.”

“Not sure we oughta have given them our bed then, sweetie.”

“Oh, they aren't bad folk, dear. Fact is, I wondered if maybe they're running away to get married. I think that little lady is of society, born and bred. Now, Harrigan's a gentleman, sure enough, but I think it's newly learned.”

“Still not sure it's right.”

“It's perfect, dear. Those two are in love.”

“Didn't hear it said.”

“Didn't have to. It was there in the way Harrigan looked at little Ella, in his deep and very real concern for her, and in every word he said about her. They aren't married by law, but they're married in spirit and that's good enough for me. Now, hush, enjoy the company, and give me a sip of that poison you call Willie's Brew.”

Careful not to make a sound, Harrigan moved away from the door, and tiptoed into the bedroom, silently shutting the battered door behind him. As he undressed, he could still hear Rose's words in his mind. He wanted to chuckle at the endearing romantic fancies of women, but he couldn't.

Standing at the side of the bed, he watched Ella sleep. The word
love
stuck in his mind and he found himself wondering if Rose could be right. An attempt to blame such thoughts on Willie's potent brew failed. He found that he was both afraid and deeply curious.

He slipped into bed and gently pulled Ella into his arms. When she cuddled up to him, mumbling his name in her sleep, he grimaced. He could not deny that he felt something for her, something a great deal deeper and more complicated than anything he had ever felt for a woman. Cautiously, he admitted that he cared for her, liked her, enjoyed her company, and desired her more than he had ever desired a woman. He dared not call it love.

Love meant commitment. Love meant marriage and children. Love of Ella meant that he could not possibly give her to Harold Carson, he could not collect his pay, and he could not help his family. He closed his eyes and tried to convince himself that Rose was wrong, that she had just misread the depth of his feelings for Ella.

“Where the hell are we?” Ella asked in rising panic as she started to sit up in the bed.

Harrigan quickly pulled her back down, retucked the worn blanket around her, and tugged her back into his arms. “Hush, you'll wake the Lindons.”

“The who?” Ella warily looked around the small, roughly plastered room.

“The Lindons. You were very unsteady yesterday, the day after the big storm. I didn't realize just how unsteady until you nearly fell off Polly's back. I set you in front of me and brought you to the first house I could find. The Lindons graciously took us in, Mrs. Lindon helping me tend to you, and even gave us their bedroom to sleep in.”

“I don't recall any of that.” She frowned and cautiously stretched, feeling only slightly weakened. “I couldn't have been too sick as I don't feel very bad now.”

“I believe it was mostly exhaustion that felled you. You have slept soundly for almost fourteen hours and that doesn't include all the time you slept while we traveled here.”

“I've never slept that long,” she whispered, her voice weakened by shock.

“You've never been so exhausted before.”

She frowned as she considered the matter and decided he was probably right. Even in her flight from Philadelphia she had not been subjected to such continuous strenuous activity. She had gone by train, eaten well, and occasionally enjoyed a comfortable night in a hotel. For a brief moment, Ella was disgusted by what she saw as weakness, then told herself not to be such a fool. What she and Harrigan had been doing required a little hardening. It was not something one just up and decided to do. She could hardly be blamed for not preparing herself to ride across the country on horseback.

Concerns about her stamina or lack thereof were quickly pushed aside by other questions. She suddenly realized that she and Harrigan were sharing a bed in someone's house. This was not a hotel where their scandalous behavior would go mostly unnoticed. Beyond the battered door of the room were the Lindons. She did not know who they were, could not even remember meeting them, but she could not believe they would allow a couple to climb into bed together if they were not married. Ella was suddenly afraid that Harrigan had slipped into the room unseen and an embarrassing confrontation with the inhabitants of the house was imminent.

“I think you had better go now,” she whispered. “It's almost dawn. Someone will be stirring soon.”

“Don't worry. They know I'm in here.” Harrigan grinned at her look of horror, then decided to put her at ease. “Ella, the Lindons think we're married.” He felt sure that neither Rose nor Willie would let their suspicions become known, so there was no need to tell Ella about them.

“They think what?”

“That you and I are man and wife.”

“You lied to people who were kind enough to shelter us?”

He grimaced, for that still troubled him a little. “Not exactly.”

“Harrigan, they think we're married. We're not. So, you had to have lied to them.”

“When I knocked on their door, Willie Lindon asked if my wife was sick. I just didn't disagree with him.”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Well, we have to tell them the truth.”

“Go right ahead,” he said, hoping she didn't take him up on the dare. “Go on out there and tell that kindly couple that the man you have just spent the night with in their only bed is not your husband.”

She blinked, then muttered a curse, but was not ready to fall in with his lies that easily. “I could remind them that I was in no position to argue with you or what you let them think.”

“And what happens if that isn't good enough?”

“I think you're giving me the headache.”

It wasn't easy, but Ella ignored his soft laughter as she tried to decide what to do. She was thoroughly disgusted when she finally had to concede that the best thing to do was to play along with his lie. Although she had no real qualms about being Harrigan's lover, she didn't really want the world to know. There was always the chance that she could survive her battle with Harold, so it was wise to at least try to protect her good name.

It would be no secret that she had spent many long days riding the countryside, alone, with the man, but everything they had done so far was easily denied. She could act offended if her honor was impugned and no one could find any proof that she was not still as innocent as when she had left Philadelphia. All anyone could do now was whisper rumor, damaging enough, but able to be fought if she had a mind to do so. It would be no more than the kind of nonsense she and her aunt had been fighting for years. The Lindons, however, had undoubtedly seen her in bed with Harrigan, as she knew she had not undressed herself or put herself to bed. She also knew it was not only her good name she sought to protect. Since Harrigan had shown no inclination to be any more than a temporary lover, she really did not want people to find any proof that she had been such a fool as to bed down with one of Harold's hirelings.

“Fine then. Have it your way,” she finally said. “I don't like it at all, but I think the truth would cause more trouble than the lie at the moment.”

“Such a gracious concession.”

“So I'm not a good loser. Arrest me. Now tell me what other lies you've told them, and don't try to deny that there are some. You would have to tell a few just to support the first one.”

He sighed and nodded, then proceeded to tell her everything he had said to the Lindons. “I tried to keep it as simple as possible.”

“I'm impressed.” She wasn't sure she liked knowing how skilled he could be at weaving tales. “Don't look so concerned. I won't march out there and tell them that you're a kidnapper.”

Harrigan prepared to complain about how she and Louise insisted on calling him a kidnapper, but then Ella yawned. He suddenly noticed that she was still somewhat pale and her eyelids were still heavy. The fact that she had woken up and had a long, rational conversation with him eased a lot of his concerns about her health, but he realized that she was not fully recovered yet.

“Go back to sleep, Ella,” he ordered softly.

“After so much sleep, how can I still be so tired?” she asked even as she closed her eyes.

“It takes a while to recoup your strength when you've used it all up.”

He waited until he was sure she was asleep and then slipped out of bed and got dressed. The Lindons were moving around in the other room and he wanted to give Willie a hand with the chores. It was a small repayment for their kindness and, he confessed, a salve for the guilt he felt about lying to them.

Ella cautiously opened the door of the bedroom. She was not sure how long she had slept after she and Harrigan had talked, but one peek out of the window revealed that the sun was high in the sky, hinting that it was at least the middle of the day. For a little while she had lingered over dressing herself, nervous about confronting her hosts. Finally she could not tolerate sitting by herself. She just prayed that she had the ability to hold up Harrigan's lies and that the Lindons did not ask any pressing questions.

As she stepped into the big room that made up the rest of the cabin she caught sight of a plump brunette scrubbing a long plank table. She nervously cleared her throat. The smile the woman gave her was so open and friendly, Ella relaxed a little even as she felt a pinch of guilt. It seemed a real shame to lie to such a woman.

“I'm Rose,” the woman said as she hurried over, put an arm around Ella's waist, and urged her toward a rocking chair set before a huge stone fireplace. “You just make yourself comfortable over here.”

“I'm fine, really,” Ella protested, even as she sat down. “I have had more than enough sleep.”

“And that's good,” Rose agreed as she slapped a lump of dough on the table and began to knead it. “Your color is much improved. However, you shouldn't try to do anything today. ”

“I really do feel quite hale.”

“It's still more false strength than a true healing. When a body gets so worn out it forces you to fall asleep even though you're on a horse, it's sending you a mighty powerful message. Heed it. Better to sit and rest now than to get a few miles down the road and feel all weak again.”

“I just feel that I ought to be helping you. You've done so much for us.”

“Your man is outside helping Willie do his chores. You know, some of those things that require an extra pair of hands to do properly. He'll be doing us a great service by helping my Willie do some much-needed repairs.”

The thought of Harrigan doing hard, menial work was intriguing, and Ella wished she could slip outside to have a peek. “I'm not sure how much help Harrigan will be. He's no homesteader.”

“He can't be doing too badly. I've been outside once or twice and didn't here any cussing, so things must be going smoothly enough.”

“There must be a few things that you need to have done.”

“Not truly, but, if you begin to look as if you want to pull out your hair from boredom, I might have some darning you can do.”

Ella smiled faintly. “I do have some skill with a needle, if you'll pardon my boasting.”

“If we don't occasionally boast about our housewifery skills, who will?” She exchanged a brief grin with Ella then put the dough back into the bowl and covered it. “Now, I'll get you something to eat.”

“There's no need to trouble yourself. I'm not really very hungry.”

“It's no trouble. Just some bread and cheese. Simple, soothing, and filling,” Rose said even as she cut some bread and cheese and put it on a plate. “Food is as important as sleep to build up your strength. And, while you eat, we can talk about those things your man knows so little about.”

As she accepted the plate of food, Ella watched Rose a little warily, not quite sure what the woman referred to. “Such as what?”

“Female things.” Rose pulled up a stool, grabbed a bowl of potatoes, a bowl to catch the peelings, and a sharp knife, and then sat down facing Ella. “Fashions, scandals, all that sort of thing.”

“I'm not sure how much I can tell you, as I've been living in the wilds of Wyoming for almost three years. It's been a long while since I sipped tea and gossiped with the ladies in Philadelphia.”

“Something I've never done. I don't care how old the news is. I'm just powerful eager to hear some.”

Ella laughed softly. In between bites of the tangy cheese and thick bread, she told an avidly listening Rose everything she could think of about fashion, manners, and society. They shared a few chuckles over some old scandals and a couple Ella recalled left Rose wide-eyed and gaping. Rose finally allowed Ella to shuck some peas as she told the woman about the theater. It was while they were giggling over the foibles of the fashionable at the theater that Harrigan and Willie arrived.

The speed with which Rose had some food on the table astounded Ella, then she realized that they had been preparing the evening meal, not the midday one. Rose had fixed the hearty meal she now served the men much earlier and had simply kept it aside until they left their work long enough to eat it. It was what she and Louise had done back at the ranch, but her mind had been so consumed with thoughts of Harrigan and her guardian for so long, she had nearly forgotten about such simple, everyday events. As she walked to the table to sit next to Harrigan, Ella suddenly and fiercely missed the uncomplicated life she had been leading at Louise's ranch.

Harrigan watched Ella closely as she ate. He was briefly concerned over how little she consumed, but then Rose assured him that Ella had already had a plate full of bread and cheese. He finished his meal and rejoined Willie at his work, confident that Ella was in good hands. That confidence grew even stronger when he returned at the end of the day to enjoy a hearty supper, and found Ella quietly sewing. A little smile curved the corners of his mouth, for he knew she must be finding such enforced rest galling. She looked as if her strength had fully returned, and she undoubtedly wanted to do more than Rose was allowing her to.

“You look much better,” he said as he walked over to where she sat and bent to kiss her cheek.

“Strong enough to beat you back to Wyoming,” she whispered, smiling sweetly at him.

“I can see that there is some advantage to your being so exhausted you can neither think nor speak.”

“Many regrets, sir, but I have returned to my endearing old self.”

“Well, bring your sweet little self over to the table and have something to eat.”

“I am not sure I can,” she said softly as he tugged her to her feet and led her over to the table. “Rose has been feeding me all day long.”

Harrigan laughed softly, set her down at the table, and filled her plate. Throughout the meal she cast him surreptitious looks of irritation, but he just continued to smile at her in what she obviously considered an annoyingly doting manner. As soon as the meal was over, he retired to the porch with Willie, bracing himself for another drink of the man's brew as he went.