Wild Rose

Jamie jerked awake with the clarity that comes with realizing one has overslept. He glanced at the wind up clock on the mantle and groaned. Almost ten o'clock. The horses were probably on their way to California by now, in hopes that they'd find a master that wouldn't starve them to death.

Patrick too, was still snoring in contentment on the floor.

He relaxed a bit when he saw the empty couch, thinking that Rose had probably fed them. Sighing, he stretched and went outside into the steadily falling rain to help her.

His brow wrinkled in confusion when he saw the barn door bolted tightly, not remembering having closed it up the night before. He also glanced back at the house. Maybe Rose hadn't fed the horses after all. Maybe she'd just crawled up to her room in the middle of the night to sleep in her own bed.

Shrugging his shoulders, he opened the door to the hostile glare of many irritated horses, who instantly thrashed at the stall doors with their front hooves when they caught sight of their worthless caretaker.

"I know, I know," Jamie muttered as he pushed the wheelbarrow full of feed down the hall, measuring out grain to the horses, "Haven't you ever overslept?"

When the horses were munching contently, and Jamie had apologized enough to believe they might not trample him once out of their stalls, he yawned and walked back toward the house.

Something by the porch caught his eye and he wrinkled his brow in confusion as he bent to pull a blanket out of the shrubs. It had been on the couch, covering Rose the last time he'd seen it. An uneasy feeling suddenly grew in the pit of his stomach, diminishing the thoughts of breakfast he'd been experiencing only moments before. He slammed the door open with a crash that startled Patrick out of slumber, and took the stairs two at a time.

As he feared, her bed was untouched.

There was no light or dark, nor was there a sense of time or place. There was only a thick kind of nothingness, with no color, no smell, no temperature, and no limit. It was as if a velvet cloud wrapped around her, yet there was no touch to indicate softness. It was floating on nothing with a million kaleidoscope images swirling rapidly in front of her face, amounting to everything and nothing at the same time.

Still, she struggled, fighting against things that weren't tangible enough to fight against. Her mind struggled fiercely, trying to comprehend what was holding her down. Several times she nearly grasped the dancing memories in front of her face, but then felt something slide down her throat, and all was nothing again.

Finally, she grasped the edge of a thought, and clung to it for dear life. It worked hard to break the surface of her confusion, and finally it was there, a tiny but firm anchor in her brain…Where Am I?

Clinging to that thought for all that she was worth, Rose finally opened her eyes. The room was dim, but even the bit of light streaming through the cracks over her head was painful.

Laying very still, until she was reasonably sure the room wasn't really spinning, Rose let her eyes wander over her surroundings. She was in a primitive looking room with a dirt floor and three rickety wood walls. The other wall was dirt. Above her the ceiling was actually only boards laid carelessly near each other, allowing light from above to shine in. A streak of sunlight lit the wall on the other side of the room, and Rose watched it, transfixed by the pattern. She shook herself out of her daze and continued her survey. The room only had a bed, a cot, a table and a chair within it. She could find no door, except for a square on the ceiling.

It was a basement of some sort then, a basement of what building she couldn't guess.

She vaguely began remembering bits and pieces of things as she laid conscious for the first time since the night she'd been taken from the ranch…her last clear memory of anything. She had no idea how long she'd been gone. Scenes flashed before her eyes, disconnected and confusing.

They played in her mind, fragments that didn't fit together at all: Waking up laid over the back of a horse, thrown over it like a sack of potatoes, and watching dust pass beneath the hooves. A campfire, and a hulking shape trying to make her eat, and shaking her roughly when she would not. A creaky door that didn't sit well on the hinges, protesting the booted foot that kicked it open while she was hoisted through it. A figure over her, gently removing her clothes and pulling a nightgown on her instead, despite her weak protests.

Rose looked down, touching the light cotton nightdress. Her skin crawled. He'd had his hands on her, she could remember that much, but he hadn't hurt her, not then. She quickly took stock of her physical situation, and was relieved to find that she hadn't was still unharmed.

"You're awake!"

Rose turned dull eyes toward the voice and saw John jump from the trap door in the ceiling and come to sit beside her.

"How long have I been here?" she whispered, her voice hoarse from disuse.

"Doesn't matter, does it Rose? The important thing is we're together."

"Are you going to kill me like you killed those other women?"

"Of course not, my darling. I love you. I killed them so we could be together."

Rose flung her head to the side, ignoring the dizziness doing so caused to escape the hand that tried to brush her damp hair back.

"What are you talking about?" She growled, "What did they have to do with you and me!"

"They tried to turn my head Rose, to make me like them. So I let them know I was yours!" John suddenly brushed aside her hair and gently traced the deformed earlobe.

Rose shuddered violently, "What are you doing!"

"I cut their ears off Rose…because they thought they were more perfect than you. So I showed them…I showed them they weren't."

"The saloon girl never knew me! And Elizabeth Walker did not think she was better than anyone! She didn't even like you John! What are you talking about?" Rose tried her best to get around the fog that still hung between coherent thoughts and confusion.

"I saw them looking at me Rose. I knew they wanted me to leave you."

"Leave me?" Rose asked incredulously, "You were never with me in order to leave me!"

"Shhh, love, you're getting agitated. I don't want to have to sedate you again."

Rose glared. That was the explanation for her weakness and inability to think. She'd been drugged.

"I want to go home John," she said softly, then a plan worked its way into her restless brain, "Please, take me home, and we'll announce our engagement…and we'll have a big wedding and all of Sweetwater will come and no one will ever have to know what you did to them."

Rose hoped her voice didn't sound as desperate to his ears as it did to hers.

"Really, love, you mean it? You wish to marry me now?" John asked, grasping her hands.

"Really, my….l-love," Rose nearly choked on the words. She prayed him mad enough to believe her. If she could just get within sight of Jamie, she had no doubt he'd save her. Her childish faith in his ability had not wavered much with age. If he could save her from a group of drunkards, a pack of Indians, and a trampling mob, he'd save her from a mad man.

John was gazing in her eyes, "Ask me to kiss you again, Rose. I said I'd never do anything you didn't ask me to do."

She knew it was a test. Reluctantly she raised her eyes to his. She licked her lips, trying to prepare herself to speak. What would he do if she wouldn't…couldn't, ask him to kiss her? Her stomach lurched and her heart pounded at the thought of him touching her at all, much less kissing her.

"Well?"

"Would you like to…k-kiss me, John?" She finally whispered, looking away from the strange light that came into his eyes. She choked and bit back a gag as he leaned toward her, and all she could see was Elizabeth's terrified eyes as she'd died, holding her own ears in her hand.

Before John reached her, with a surge of adrenaline induced strength, Rose struck out with all her might, catching his nose with the heel of her hand. She heard it crack, and he fell on his knees at the bed, blood running down his face.

With a shriek of fear for what she'd just done, Rose bolted out of bed, and unsteadily ran to the trap door. She leapt for the rope that would help her up, but she was too short.

She glanced at John, who was getting up and coming toward her.

She screamed for help and grabbed a bottle of laudanum from the table, flinging it directly at his head.

Her weak arm was inaccurate and the throw was wide. The glass shattered on the back wall, and the thick black liquid ran across it, almost as slowly as John walked toward her.

With another shriek, again finding his malicious calm more unsettling than anything, Rose jumped for the rope, and then fell hard to the floor.

John's feet appeared in front of her.

"I'm sorry," Rose whispered, hiding her face in her hands, "I'm sorry…please, don't kill me!"

Soon, his hands were on her shoulders, and he pulled her up. He looked at her for a moment, and Rose tried not to flinch under those wild looking green eyes. She couldn't understand what he was thinking, but she was reasonably sure he wasn't pleased with her for breaking his nose. The blood stained the front of his shirt and his face, and hands.

Rose gasped in surprise a moment later when the back of one of those hands cracked across her cheek. She stumbled backwards and would have fallen but he reached out and grabbed her arm, taking her back to the bed and throwing her onto it.

Rose, her control already weakened by the left over effects of the sedative, and shot completely by the rough handling, began sobbing, not having the presence of mind to concern herself with dignity. She curled up in a ball.

"Rose, darling, you aren't going to go home. You're going to stay here with me forever. Maybe one day you can come out of here, but not until I'm sure you love me and won't go back to him."

Rose sobbed harder at the reference to Jamie, longing for him and Patrick, Teaspoon, Rachel, Kid and Lou. If John had his way, she'd never see any of them again. The thought made her weep more bitterly.

Jamie will find me, she thought desperately, but the small voice at the back of her mind nagged at her, How will he find you? You vanished right under his nose, in a rain that would wash out all tracks, and you're in the basement of some kind of building, and don't know how long you've been here…how should Jamie?

"Don't cry darling. I know it doesn't seem fair now, but I know you'll love me for it one day."

"No I won't!" Rose snapped at him, "I hate you! I'll hate you forever! They'll find me! Kid and Lou and Jamie will turn over every rock in this country until they do! "

"I hope not. I'd hate to kill them all."

"They'll kill you," Rose said, but her voice shook badly, "I'll never love you!"

"Shh, you're upset now, you're saying things you don't mean. Here, let me give you something to help you sleep," John crooned soothingly.

Rose sat up, trying to get away from him, but he secured her arm in a vise-like grip. "I don't want anything to help me sleep, no, please," she whimpered weakly as he drew out a needle and syringe, "please."

He ignored her, intent on pulling a vile from his pocket. His touch was skillful, and she realized he'd done this many times. He wondered who he used the anesthetic on, himself or other victims.

With the syringe filled, he got up, and went to light something on the floor in the corner. A small cloud of smoke drifted up and reached Rose's nostrils. It was a sickly sweet odor, and instantly her head began to reel.

"Opium?" She questioned him when he came to take her unresisting wrist.

"Yes, you like it?" He smiled at her as he jabbed the needle into her arm and let more sedatives into her bloodstream, "I like opium, myself."

"No," Rose mumbled, feeling the edged of her vision clouding, "I don't like it…"

"Shh, my love, all will be well," John told her and lifted her, moving her over on the bed, and climbing in beside her. Rose struggled in vain, thinking he meant to harm her, but instead, he put his arms around her and laid his head on the pillow.

To Rose, and her quickly diminishing capacity to think clearly, John's arms might have been steel bands for all the good pushing against them did. Finally, she could fight no more as she closed her eyes, and felt John pull her more closely to him, in a loving embrace.

The dreams were constant. They were the drug induced dreams of endless searching and running, but never finding or reaching the object that bounced along in front of her. They were vivid dreams, sometimes terrifying sometimes amazingly beautiful, with the startling colors only possible in dreams.

She was whimpering from the effects of a dream of a wooded area and a chase through screaming trees when a hand gently took hers.

She gasped and opened her eyes, looking with only a little shock into a pair of gentle brown eyes she'd traveled Westward to find.

"Bill-uh…Jimmy?"

"Yes, it's me, sweetheart."

"But you're dead," Rose murmured, "Am I?"

He smiled, shaking his head, "No, you're not dead, thank God."

"What are you doing here then?"

"Visiting. Do you want me to go?"

"No…of course not. There's something I meant to tell you a few years ago, but I never got to," Rose began, struggling to sit up. She couldn't say why she wasn't shocked or scared to find her deceased father sitting on the edge of her bed, his hand warm on hers, but she felt no alarm, only urgency.

Jimmy put his hands under her arms and helped her sit upright, leaning her against the headboard. "I know Rose. I know you are my own. I always thought so, but I didn't want to tell you, in case you didn't…in case you had a father you loved and thought was your own. Hell, he would have been a better father than me anyway."

"You didn't know about me," a horrible thought occurred to Rose and she looked him directly in the eyes, "did you? Mama always said you didn't ever know…"

He smiled, and put her at ease, "I didn't know until I saw you for the first time Rose, in the doctor's office while the doctor took care of your ear. I could see your mother right there in front of me. But I could see myself too."

Rose wrinkled her brow, "I'm like my mother?" She recalled the unhappy, unsatisfied woman aged far beyond her years that she remembered. She could still see her mother on her deathbed, telling her who her father was and how he'd refused to come away with her, to remove his guns.

As if he knew who her mother had become, he shook his head, "I remember her differently Rose. She was a saloon girl when I knew her, and she was beautiful. Flaming red hair, even more so than yours…it was darker, and the brightest green eyes I've ever seen in my life. Spirited as a wild horse, too, and loved to laugh and play." He smiled at the memory and his eyes obtained a far away look, "We had several good months together. The happiest I've been since I left the express, you know, at least until I met you. But she wanted an easy life, Rose, just to settle down and have a ranch, and live happily ever after. Yet, I tried that in my early years, and trouble always found me. And when trouble finds me Rose, people I care about get hurt."

"That's why you left Sweetwater in the first place," Rose said quietly, understanding.

"Yes, and why your mother left me. She didn't understand that I couldn't take off my gun. You never can once you go down the road I traveled, you know. She ran away in the middle of the night, and for years I looked for her, but she didn't want to be found. I heard a few years later that she was working in a brothel in Texas, but not that she'd had a child."

Rose sighed, "She still loved you I think, although she always told me I was just like you and talked about how much she hated you, and me too. She tried to convince herself she made the right choice running from you, but she never did. Your name was the last thing she ever said before she died."

Jimmy nodded, "And so you came to find me. Why didn't you tell me? You already know why I didn't tell you."

Rose shrugged, "I never could find the nerve. I didn't know if you'd believe me, if you would want to know even if you did see it was true, and I didn't want you to send me away. I wanted to know you."

Jimmy smiled, "Not want you? Oh, Rose, I never wanted anything more than you! I wanted to make up to you all the years I missed, but was afraid you'd be so angry at me for trying, for thinking I could. I wanted to give you the world. I'd stopped caring if I lived or died long ago, but when I saw you I wanted nothing more than to live forever, and teach you everything and watch you grow. I wanted to change every bad choice I ever made so I could have the chance to know you from the second you were born. I-You changed everything for me Rose. But for the world, it was too late, and I was unchangeable."

"Why did you sit with your back to the door, Jimmy? Some say it was suicide." Rose said quietly, not daring to call him father, although she would have loved to.

He shook his head, "It wasn't suicide. I don't even know why I did. Maybe it was meant to be, maybe not, I can't say. But I did, and it's too late to change it. But, it could have been for the best. The McClouds might not have found you if it wasn't for that, and they've given you more than I ever could have."

"The only thing they gave me that you couldn't have, is your name," Rose said softly.

"I would have given you my name!" Jimmy protested.

Rose shook her head with certainty, "No, you would have been too worried that your trouble would find me easier with your name. I've thought about it for years. But, it never has found me…well, not your trouble anyway. I seem to do a good job of finding my own."

Jimmy grinned, "Like your father, eh? Well, learn what I never could, Rose. You have to let someone love you, or there's no hope for you. I had plenty of people in my life that would have, but I was too scared to let them, although I loved them back."

Rose nodded, "I know you were scared. They all loved you anyway, though. Did you know that? They still grieve for you Jimmy. So do I."

"I'm alright," Jimmy assured her. He reached down and took the star she'd pulled from her pocket from her, "You kept this?"

"It's the only thing I had to remind me of you. I stole it when I came to see your body," Rose's said calmly, "The doctor chased me through town when I did it, but I outran him. I don't go anywhere without it."

Jimmy nodded, "I'm glad you've got it. It served me well for many years. Still, given your current situation, I'll keep it safe for you until you're safe again." He put it in his pocket, and Rose didn't protest.

"Can't you help me?" Rose asked, "Haven't you come to take me from here?"

Jimmy shook his head, "Rose, I think you know there's not much I can do right now. But I swear I'll send help. How, I don't know."

He was slowly fading before her eyes and she tightened her hold on his hand, "No! Please don't leave me, stay with me if there's nothing you can do!"

"I can't darlin'. You have to wake up."

"No! Please stay!" Rose cried out again.

He smiled, and reached to cradle her cheek, "Rose, I don't know if you'll see me again like this, but I do want to tell you that I'm so proud to have you carry my name. You're an amazing young woman, and you'll do wonderful things. So much more so than I would have ever done. I do love you, I only wish I'd been allowed to stay long enough to show you how much."

"I love you," Rose whispered back and then watched in fascination as his face faded from beneath his black hat and as John's face replaced it. Slowly, the hat faded too and she was looking into green eyes rather than loving brown ones.

John was grasping her hand and looking into her eyes, whispering words of love. Had the words been his then, and not her fathers after all? The weight of disappointment almost crushed her. It had been a dream then.

So great was her depression that she turned her head in disgust and willed herself back into a dazed sleep, hoping to encounter her father again.

Jamie's face was a mask as he rode back into the station. Lady was dark with sweat and blowing hard. Patrick rode beside him, equally expressionless.

It had been a week, and they'd covered the surrounding territory without the slightest clue. After discovering John was missing they'd figured out who had Rose, but where was another matter. No one had seen hide nor hair of John or Rose in a hundred mile radius.

Kid, Lou, and Buck ran out to greet Patrick and Jamie with grim expressions.

Jamie was going to ask if they'd heard anything, but the hopeful look on their faces told him they were wondering the same thing of them.

Lou held Lady's reins as he climbed down. There were no words of greeting.

"Nothing?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"No," Jamie said quietly, the picture of defeat, "It was my fault. I should have been more careful knowing the killer was loose. I don't even know when he took her, except it was sometime during that night."

"It's okay Jamie. We're going to find her," Buck said reassuringly, "Teaspoon's riding South of here, and has printed out wanted posters and sent them from Boston to San Francisco. Seth is out riding North, asking around."

Kid nodded, "They couldn't have disappeared into thin air. They'll turn up."

"I'm afraid the lad has taken her back to England," Patrick said softly.

"No, someone would have seen them, and Rose would have been fighting. He's holed up somewhere."

"But what if he did take her to England?" Lou asked softly.

"Then I'll find her there," Jamie said softly.

Kid nodded, "And I'll go with him."

Lou watched as Jamie and Kid met eyes and nodded to one another, sealing the pact. She knew that look too well, they would in fact find Rose or die trying.

To be continued...Chapter XII

Copyright 1998-This work is not to be reproduced without the permission of the author

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Campfire Tales

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