Wild Roses (11 page)

They were both yawning by the time they finished their meal. As Ella went to the river to wash up before bed, Harrigan worked to make the fire as safe as possible, piling a second layer of stones around it and dampening the ground. He could not bring himself to douse it completely for, although they did not need its warmth, they still needed its protection. Harrigan was sure there were wild animals roaming the vast open grasslands they crossed and he did not want one sneaking up on him. The fire would make any animal keep its distance.

Ella barely spoke when she returned, stripped to her camisole and pantaloons. She carefully placed her clothes on her bag and crawled beneath the blanket with an obvious weariness. As he moved to clean up for bed, Harrigan was glad that he shared her exhaustion, for she was in no state to satisfy any urge save for sleep.

When he joined her in their rough bed he gently pulled her into his arms. Her body was already heavy with approaching sleep and he found it easy to push aside his desire for her in deference to her need for rest. He idly stroked her hair as she curled her body more comfortably against his.

“There is a heaviness to the air. Perhaps it will rain soon,” he said in a soft voice, unable to completely dismiss the concern about fire from his mind.

“Out here there can be a heaviness in the air, but the storm never appears, or it thunders and crackles with lightning, but no rain.” She closed her eyes, part of her telling her to stay alert for danger, but a greater part demanding sleep.

“And the lightning starts the fires.”

“I fear so. Go to sleep, Harrigan.”

“You put such thoughts in my head, tell me that I'm lying down in nature's fireplace waiting for a match to strike, then tell me to sleep?” He smiled when she chuckled.

“I always feel it's best when worries are shared.”

“Worry doesn't seem to steal away your sleep, however.”

“No sense in both of us being awake.”

He just laughed and fell quiet, letting the soft sounds of the night relax him. Ella close at his side, her gentle breathing, and the light weight of her warm, slim body also worked to soothe him. Harrigan grimaced when he realized that he would find it hard to sleep alone once she was gone. He closed his eyes and tried to push those thoughts from his mind. Fate had thrust them together and the needs of his large family would ensure that they had to part. There was nothing he could do to change that.

“I think you should take the gag off George now, Louise,” drawled Joshua, smiling at the couple seated across from him on the train. “The other passengers are beginning to talk.”

Louise tore her gaze from the troubling scenery passing by the window of the train and looked at George, who sat next to her. A sigh holding both resignation and irritation escaped her as she yanked off the gag she had stuffed in his mouth then undid the ropes binding his wrists together. She gave Joshua a look that cried “traitor” when the youth handed George his canteen. When she heard the other three young men seated across the aisle laugh softly, she sent them a brief glare as well.

“You can't gag everyone who says something you disagree with,” Joshua said as he relaxed in his seat.

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Louise replied, then grimaced when she heard the somewhat childish petulance tainting her voice.

“I did apologize for my hasty judgment,” George said as he gave Joshua back his canteen.

“It was not so much the insult you gave Ella, who did not deserve it, but that tone of stuffy moral outrage that set my teeth on edge.”

“Stuffy?” George murmured, but Louise ignored his interruption.

“I had my fill of that when I was in Philadelphia. Half or more of the women who acted so righteous, shook their well coiffed heads, and clucked their busy tongues, were far from sainthood. They judged me on rumor and innuendo and cast me out of their little society as fast as they could. I know it was not because of the murder I was falsely accused of, either. They pushed me out of the nest because they wanted to, because I did not fit their ideals. I was not
one of them
. ”

“I'm sure it was unpleasant to have friends turn against you.”

“Unpleasant?” Louise could not help herself, she giggled. “George, you do have a way with words.” She quickly grew serious again. “I don't miss a one of them. Truth is, although I counted them as friends, I realized I was never close to any of them. It is the injustice of it all that still angers me. The pettiness of those people is still a sore spot on my skin. They treated poor Ella in a like manner. True, they never cast her out completely, but they never allowed her in either. It can leave one feeling as if there is nowhere that she belongs. The younger one is, the harder that is. I thought the new lands out west would be different, and they are a little, but I still didn't fit.” She winked at Joshua. “So I made my own little society and only the best can join.”

“And you intend to keep Ella as part of that little group,” George said quietly.

“I do. I know you and that fool Harrigan do not believe it, but Harold means to kill her. Even if he didn't, I would still fight to keep her from being taken back to Philadelphia. There is nothing there for her, no family, no friends. Even Harold barely tolerates the girl's presence in his house.”

“It does sound a very sad situation, but the law says Harold Carson is her guardian, not you. The only way you can win this is to have her rightful guardian changed, to depose Harold from the position.”

“That is never going to happen. Harold owns too many judges and lawyers and others of prominence in that city.”

“Then you must wait until she is of age to do as she pleases.”

Louise cursed softly. “You don't listen, do you? Harold will never let Ella reach that age. Why do you find that so hard to believe?”

“Actually, I don't.”

“Then why are we even playing this game? Why don't you just let her go?”

“I am not the one who makes that decision. I work for Harrigan. There is also still the law to consider. It says she belongs with Harold. Perhaps I am a coward, but I do not feel comfortable breaking the law, no matter how unfair that law or ruling may be. Now, you may be able to convince me that Harold Carson means her only ill, but the law needs a great deal more than your word. So, I fear, does Harrigan.”

“You know, you have a very annoying skill of always sounding so reasonable.” She felt a definite softening within her when he gave her one of his fleeting smiles and quickly turned her attention to what was passing by the window. “Of course, none of this may matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Harrigan and Ella may not ever make it to Philadelphia,” she replied, finally putting her growing fear into words.

“Harrigan is not without skill,” George said in his friend's defense.

“I am sure he is a clever fellow. He cannot, however, make it rain, can he?” When she glanced at George and saw the faint look of confusion on his face, she pointed at the passing scenery. “It's dry out there. Bone dry. Miles and miles of parched grass and dirt. There is a drought going on in this land. I'm sure of it.”

“It does look bad,” agreed Joshua. “There is still time for some rain before the summer sets in hard, though.”

“True, but I think this land needs a lot more than a few late-season showers,” said Louise.

“If Harrigan needs water, he'll go into town or find one of the railroad's water holes or water towers,” said George. “He'll understand the danger of getting too low on water.”

“Yes, but the way you're talking tells me that he might not understand the dangers a parched land can present. There's the danger of wildfires. They can decimate miles of grassland and all that is in their path in the blink of an eye. Animals desperate for a drink can lose their natural reticence around man.”

George frowned as he stared out her window, trying to see all that she did. “Harrigan will do all he can to be sure your niece is safe. And, as Joshua says, the rains could still come.”

“They could, but the storm that brings them can be just another threat. You haven't been out this way before, have you, George?”

“No. I haven't done much more traveling than to move from Boston to Philadelphia.”

“Well, the storms out here can be fierce and deadly. They can put down a wind that rips apart everything in its path. The more I look out there, the more I study the skies and the ground, the more I worry.”

George lightly patted her hand where it lay clenched tightly in her lap. “They won't be in this land for long.”

“I hope not. In truth, I could almost wish Ella was in Philadelphia. At least she can fight Harold.”

Ella took a small sip of water from her canteen then poured some into a battered tin bowl and gave her little mare a drink. An idle shake of her canteen proved her worst fears. They were rapidly running out of water. Despite his reluctance to draw near any towns, Harrigan was slowly veering back toward the railroad tracks. The trains needed a constant and ready supply of water and there would be some at various points along the tracks. For two days Harrigan had resisted doing that, certain that they could find sufficient water elsewhere, but it was proving impossible. Each place he went to, places where his charts, maps, and notations had promised water, they had found little more than mud. Now he had no other choice, for, if they did not find water soon, they would not have a drop left and no guarantee of replenishing their supply, and that was a peril Ella had no wish to experience.

She slumped against her placidly grazing horse and watched Harrigan gently remove a pebble from his horse's hoof. They had halted the moment his mount had developed a slight limp. The man took very good care of their animals and obviously valued them. Ella thought again of the time he had threatened to kill Polly. She knew for certain now that he would never have carried out that threat. She was annoyed that he had tricked her, but mostly she was annoyed that she had fallen for the ruse.

Taking out her handkerchief, she dabbed at the perspiration on her face. The air was almost chokingly heavy. Some very black clouds were rolling toward them from the west and Ella prayed that they would hurry up. Not only would a storm clear the air for a while, but it would bring some much-needed rain. And a little rain would serve to tamp down the invasive dust, she thought, as she brushed off her skirts.

“I'll have to ride George's horse for now,” Harrigan said as he took the rope lead off George's horse and fixed it on his own mount. “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

“Hot, tired, sore, and uneasy,” she replied.

“Uneasy? About what?”

“Water and weather. Too little of the first and too much of the second.”

Harrigan cast a brief, wary look toward the black clouds chasing them. “It does look like a bad storm. It might not catch up to us, though. We still have fair skies over our heads.”

“True. Hot and weighty fair skies. The air is so heavy I sometimes feel we'll need to push it out of our way as we ride through it.”

He smiled wearily and nodded. “A little rain would clear the air some, probably be very refreshing.”

“Very. Although, if that grey haze I can see beneath the clouds is not just a vision caused by the heat, that storm is carrying more rain than we might want.” She grimaced, wondering if her unease was a product of her exhaustion and nothing else. “Part of me wants that storm to hurry up and get here even if it is tossing rain down by the bucketful.”

“But? There is a definite
but
in your voice.”

“The
but
is that I don't like the look of those clouds. They are fierce and very alive. You can see the lightning they're are spitting out from here. If that touches a dry patch, even the rains won't stop the fire it can start. I do not claim to be very knowledgeable about such things, but those clouds look like ones that could set down a killing wind, the kind that rips up and smashes everything in its path.”

“A tornado,” Harrigan said in a soft voice, a little relieved that she held the same concerns he did, for it meant he did not have to hide them.

“Have you heard of such things?”

“Heard of them and seen one. You must know that they occasionally do their deadly dance over parts of Pennsylvania. You lived there long enough.” When she nodded, he continued. “One descended upon a part my uncle called home. We survived as did the house. Well, all except the windows. But the destruction it left behind was indescribable. George and my uncle occasionally have friendly arguments about which is worse, hurricanes or tornadoes. Personally, I don't care which is worse. I would prefer never to have to deal with either.” He grasped her by the waist and set her in her saddle. “Going to stay with me? If you swear not to try and escape today, you can hold your own reins.”

“I swear it. You'll be blessed with my best behavior until midnight.” She exchanged a brief grin with him as he handed her her reins then mounted George's horse. “I would prefer to have control of Polly if we suddenly feel a need to run for our lives.”

“Thought you might.”

As they rode, Ella could not stop herself from periodically glancing behind her. The threatening clouds appeared closer each time she looked. She seriously considered spurring her little mare into a gallop and trying to outrun the storm, then inwardly told herself not to be foolish. The horses were suffering from the weather as badly as she and Harrigan were. A mad gallop now would quickly sap their strength and, quite probably, gain them nothing at all. It was almost impossible to outrun such a huge, fast-moving storm. Considering the risks such a storm held, Ella knew it was wiser and safer to conserve the strength of their horses. There was still the chance that they would have to make a run for their lives.

When the wind suddenly picked up, pushing hard against Ella's back, she tensed. The first plump drops of cool rain were refreshing, but she barely had a minute to savor their gentle cooling when the deluge began. Despite the lingering greyish light of day, it was nearly impossible to see through the heavy curtain of rain, and their pace slowed. Knowing how hard Harrigan was working to keep them on their chosen trail and try to find them some shelter, Ella hunkered down, struggled to stay close to him, and said nothing. Then, suddenly, she was alert, fighting to pick out one particular sound mixed in with the noise of the storm.

“Harrigan,” she shouted, relieved when he turned his rain-soaked face toward her. “Are we near the tracks?”

“The railroad tracks? No. Why do you ask?”

“I'm sure I hear a train. Although, it's not exactly the right sound for a train. More a roar than a chugga-chugga.”

“Oh my God.”

Even in the bad light Ella could see how Harrigan paled as he looked behind them. She felt the chill of the rain enter her veins as fear clutched at her heart. Although she did not really want to see what had a strong man like Harrigan looking so afraid, she also glanced behind them and felt her heart almost painfully skip a beat.

“We're dead,” she yelled, her voice hoarse and unsteady.

“There's one slim chance for us,” Harrigan shouted back.

“We can't outrun that.”

“Nope, but we might be able to get the hell out of its way.” He slapped her mare on the rump. “Ride south as hard as you can.”

Ella did not need to be told twice. She clung tightly to her horse and gently spurred the mare on. Polly needed no encouragement, apparently relieved to be given full rein to run for her life. All Ella had to do was direct the terrified animal so that the mare continued to try and outflank the storm, not outrun it. She could hear Harrigan and the other horses keeping pace, and concentrated on staying in the saddle.

“Head toward those rocks,” Harrigan yelled as he rode up beside her and pointed to a circular mound of boulders.

“Are we far enough away from that thing?” she yelled back.

“Let's hope so, because by the time we reach those rocks, we'll have run as far as these poor beasts can take us.”

The moment Ella reached the boulders, she flung herself out of the saddle. A narrow passage cut into the rocks and she dragged her exhausted mare into the center of them. Harrigan and his two horses quickly followed her. It was crowded, but Ella slumped against the rain-slick side of one boulder and felt a little safer. A small voice in her head told her that the tornado could reach her even there, but she ignored it, preferring to accept the security of the thick, solid rock, even if it was a false one.

“Where are you going?” she asked Harrigan as he cautiously started to climb to the top of one of the smaller boulders.

“I want to see where that cursed thing is going,” he answered.

“If it's headed straight toward us, I don't really think I want to know it.”

Harrigan kept climbing and, after taking a deep breath, she moved to follow him. He caught her by the arm and held her steady when she reached the top and crouched beside him. When she saw that the tornado was already a goodly distance away from them and looked as if it was beginning to lose its power, she was almost glad that she had made the climb.

“Do you think it will produce any more?” she asked as he helped her back down the rock.

“Could be. I think we should stay right here until the weather clears.”

“That could take all night.”

“I know, so I'll try to make us some kind of shelter. Wait here.”

“As if I have any place to go,” she muttered as he slipped away.

For a brief while she sat pressed against the rocks, shivering as the rain poured down on her. When she began to feel as stiff as she was cold, she stood up and searched through their supplies for anything that could hold water. By the time she had set their bowls and cups on the rocks, even tenuously balancing their canteens in a small trench at the base of one boulder to catch the runoff, Harrigan had returned.

She stood out of his way, hugging herself in a vain attempt to stay warm, and watched him fashion a rough lean-to against the rocks using sticks and his and George's trail coats. The moment he was done, she ducked inside, relieved to be out of the rain even though she was already soaked to the skin. Harrigan quickly joined her, carrying their bags and the blankets, which had been kept dry by an outer wrapping of oiled canvas. As he struggled to build a small fire, she shed her wet dress and wrapped herself in a blanket. As soon as Harrigan had stripped down to his drawers, he draped another blanket over both of them, and tucked her up against his side. Ella wondered why, after such care, she was still cold.

“Sleep, Ella,” Harrigan urged her. “We can't do anything in this downpour, not travel, not even cook, so you might as well get some rest.”

“This was far more rain than I wanted,” she murmured as she tried to press even closer to his warmth.

“I don't think even this is enough to end the drought. This land will need several more storms like this to revive.”

“Please, God, let me be away from this place before they arrive.” She yawned and closed her eyes, still chilled to the bone, but suddenly too tired to care. “I also pray that I never see one of those tornadoes again,” she added in a tremulous whisper.

“I heartily echo that prayer. We were fortunate today. I'm not really sure how we eluded it. I suspect it turned a little to the north even as we rode south. We just made a damned lucky guess as to which direction to run.”

“I'm very sorry I don't have some sugar, or an apple, or something. Those poor animals deserve something a little special. Are they alright?”

“Yes. Unsaddled and securely tethered. The rain won't hurt them.” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm when he felt her shiver. “I'm not so sure it's good for you, however.”

“I'll be okay once I'm dry. It's nearly summer. It should not be this cold.”

“As soon as the rain and the wind die down, it'll warm up.”

“I think I'll cease wishing so hard for a bath.”

Harrigan laughed softly, then frowned when he looked at her and realized that she had fallen asleep in a heartbeat of speaking. She was sleeping soundly too, and, although her breathing was even and quiet, it troubled him. He picked her arm up a few inches and dropped it, but she did not stir. It was as if she had been knocked unconscious. Harrigan was sure that falling asleep that quickly and that deeply was not right.

What Ella needed, he decided, was a good long rest in a soft bed, a few hearty meals, and a little pampering. The journey on horseback over a hard land, sleeping on the ground, and a steady diet of beans, biscuits, and coffee had to be taking a toll on her. It was certainly wearing him down.

He was astounded that she did not want to kill him simply for making her travel so roughly, especially when he was taking her somewhere she did not want to go. Instead, she rode along with few complaints, made sweet love to him in the night, and held to her promise not to discuss Harold and the right or wrong of returning her to her guardian. At times she even readily promised not to try and escape and held firm to that promise. While it was true that, most of the time, she had no idea of where they were or where she could run to, he suspected that she might still try to flee if given a chance.

It suddenly occurred to Harrigan that, in word and deed, Ella continuously revealed an innate sense of honesty. He grimaced when he realized that she probably saw his refusal to believe what she said about Harold as a deep insult. It was certainly a plausible tale she told, but he could not allow himself to accept any more than the fact that she honestly believed what she said. Too many people relied on him to finish the job he had been hired for and to collect the money owed him.

He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of her head. It was a good thing she had agreed that they would not discuss Harold. Simply thinking about the matter both confused and discomforted him. There had to be a solution that would give her what she wanted and give him what he needed. Once they reached Philadelphia he was determined to find it. But first, he mused, as he prepared to go to sleep, he was going to find Ella some place comfortable to rest and recoup her strength. Harold and all of the questions and troubles that went with him could wait.

 

 

Harrigan cried out in alarm when he saw Ella sway in her saddle then slump forward. She had been groggy and somewhat disoriented since they had woken up, but she had insisted that she was fine. In the ensuing two hours he had grown progressively more concerned about her. She had not said a word and had continually started to fall asleep only to jerk herself awake again. He flung himself out of the saddle and caught her in his arms even as she started to slide off her horse.