Wild Rose

"And this is Katy. She's pretty much the backbone of the operation. Thinks she owns the place," Jamie informed Rose as they paused by the largest box stall in the stables.

Rose stood on her tiptoes and gazed into the stall, letting out a sigh of appreciation. Even at twenty-odd years old, Kid's favorite horse was still a striking animal with her loud color and large, soft eyes.

Jamie watched her out of the side of his eye and grinned as she reached a tentative hand out to stroke the velvety muzzle. She'd never been around horses until she'd met them, and though she'd been travelling in the wagon behind one for a week, she was still intimidated by the large animals. However, that was fading fast, and her love for them was growing.

"Your arm still feeling alright?" Jamie asked with concern, nodding at her sling, "Mom will have my hide if you hurt yourself worse."

"I'm fine," Rose insisted, and then, when Katy lost interest in her visitors and returned to her hay, Rose turned away from her stall to wander to the next one.

Her gasp was loud, and Jamie rushed to the stall, sure that the horse inside must be dead. Instead, the gelding just pricked his ears and munched his hay lazily.

"What?" Jamie asked, feeling his heart rate return to normal.

"Him! He's beautiful! He's golden!"

"Never seen a palomino before?" Jamie wondered with a grin.

"A palo-what?" She giggled, clicking her tongue for the horse to come closer, "And yes I've seen them, just not one so pretty."

"Palomino," Jamie said, hiding a smile, and taking his role as horse master very seriously, "We don't really raise them, but Dad buys one every once in awhile."

"That's right," a third voice broke in, and Jamie and Rose both turned to see Kid and Lou strolling down the stable aisle, hand in hand. Kid paused by Katy's door, and a long, low nicker of greeting sounded from within, just before a dark muzzle shoved over the door to touch Kid's hair.

"They are hard to come by, but always did like a good palomino," Kid smiled, then glanced at Rose, "Your father always rode palominos. Started in the express, and kept on. Didn't see him on another colored horse that often," Kid assured her, then smiled, "Looks like you're like him more than you knew, huh?"

Rose flushed with pleasure and turned back to the stall, fascinated by the shiny golden horse with the wide white blaze, snowy white main, and stockings.

"That's a new one. I just bought him. I tell you what…" Kid grinned as her gray eyes turned up to his, "You let me, Lou, and Jamie show you how to take care of him, and he's yours."

Lou's smile widened, and she felt tears touch her eyes as she watched Rose's eyes well with tears as well.

"You mean it?" She nearly whispered, not quite trusting he did.

"I mean it," Kid grinned, and Lou was amazed at the gentleness in his eyes. She'd seen that look a thousand times when he held her, and when he looked at Jamie, but she never tired of it. He smiled, "After all, you can't very well learn to be a ranch hand without a horse, can you?"

Jamie grinned at Rose, and winked, "I don't think I'd take him up on it. It sounds like a nice deal now, but it won't when you're saddle sore, and covered in horse-" the look from his mother stopped him short of finishing that sentence, and he hastily added, "hair."

Lou made a mental note to talk to Cody about his word choices around her son, and smiled, "You two come on in. Lunch is ready."

Rose felt a bit overwhelmed by the sudden change in her life style. In a week, she'd gone from the smoky oppression of saloons where she lay at night on a pallet in a back room trying to drown out the sounds of the brothel's clients by placing a pillow over her head to the wide open country and her own room, complete with a white bedspread and lacy curtains. Instead of screaming whores who took out their own unhappiness on her, or lurching drunks who too often mistook her for the more experienced employees, she'd landed among sweet, mannerly people who truly wished to know her, and more than that, to love her no matter who she was.

However, she adjusted easily, and within weeks she was part of the scenery, and everyone at the ranch adored her. She and Teaspoon had become fast friends, with his gift for teaching and story telling, and Rachel drug her along to school, unwillingly at first, but then not quite so forcefully as Rose met other girls her age. Jamie, also attending school in town, assumed the role of guardian and any of the boys who would have pulled her braids reconsidered when they saw his tall form watching over her darkly.

She lived for the afternoons and weekends though, when she spent hours and hours with the horses. After Lou pronounced her arm healed, she and Jamie both gave Rose riding lessons, and if they couldn't for whatever reason, the ranch hands were usually happy to do it.

There were three of them, all in their mid-twenties, and some of the most unlikely friends in the world. Seth, from Texas, was at least six foot four, with white blonde hair and bright blue eyes that twinkled and laughed. Rose imagined it would be hard to find anyone quite so Texan as Seth outside of that state's borders. Patrick was an immigrant from Ireland, and his thick brogue made Rose giggle. She constantly demanded him to pronounce words again and again, so she might imitate it. He liked the attention, and took it upon himself to teach the girl Gaelic, sure that with her fiery hair she must have some Irish in her somewhere. His own hair was fiery red, though much lighter than Rose's, and his eyes a light green. He was small boned and wiry, and only an inch or two taller than Rose herself. Carlos was from Mexico, of medium height and build, with flashing dark eyes, jet black hair, and bright teeth that were startling in his dark face. If Rose was to learn Gaelic, then she was to learn Spanish too, and between Carlos and Patrick, she was sure that she'd forget English.

"Hey there Lassie!" She heart Patrick's voice before she saw him emerge from the shadowy barn. It was a particularly cold December day, but more importantly, the last day of school for two weeks due to Christmas.

"Merry Christmas, Patrick!"

He laughed out loud, "We'll, ye're a bit early, aye? But, same to ye, lass. I'm guessin' ye didn't come out here just to bid me Merry Christmas a week before the event, though, no? I'm expectin' it's that yeller herse ye're seekin'?"

His smile grew wider when her eyes sparkled. He put his arm out when she approached and patted her shoulder. With a devilish grin she nodded, "Aye, there Patrick, it's the yeller horse I'll be wantin'!"

"Keep practicing, lass. Ye're but a wee girl yet, no?"

"Is he in his stall?" she asked, squinting as they entered the dim barn.

"Well, no," Patrick said.

"Where is he then? The pasture?"

"Keep your britches on there, Rose, I got him right here for you," came the inevitable drawl, and a second later she heard the peaceful clopping of hooves on the hard packed dirt of the stable aisle, "Reckoned you'd be rarin' to go, so Pat and me went ahead and saddled the beast up for you."

"You're the best Seth!" exploded Rose, and she left Patrick's side as she ran down the hallway to greet her horse, who, upon seeing her, neighed loudly.

"I know she's purtier than me, but this favoritism is gonna hurt my feelings one of these days, horse."

The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he stepped aside and let the girl vault onto the horse easily.

"Getting good there, cowgirl," Seth told her, "Is that arm still doin' okay?"

"It's fine, I promise! The doctor looked at it last week and said it was completely healed!" Rose said breathlessly, obviously ready to be on her way.

"Careful then, lassie," Patrick said, coming to stand at her knee and pat her gently, "It'll be dark soon, so don't go too far aye?"

"Aye," Rose agreed, hiding a smile.

With that, Seth and Patrick both stepped back, smiling, and Rose was free.

She had been quick to pick up the skill of riding because she was a born rider, Lou had said, beaming one sunny November afternoon. Rose didn't know if she was right or not. All she knew was that she'd never been happier than when she was on her palomino riding in the open fields surrounding the ranch.

The air was cold today, and her horse felt good, so she let him gallop long and hard, further than usual, with no qualms about being back on time for dinner. Her horse felt strong and she knew he'd be just as content to run the other way.

She'd named him Mesa, because he was the golden color of the ridge near the Rockies when the first rays of sun struck the earth. Kid and Jamie often shook their heads in amazement at the bond between horse and girl. Their horses loved them, but nothing like Mesa and Rose. Rose could barely whisper in the barn and loud whinnying from the other end would demand her attention. In the pasture, she had but to call once before thundering hooves could be heard approaching the homestead. They sighed, and admitted it must be a woman thing, because Lou's young horse, Target, was just as attached to her.

Finally, and reluctantly, she pulled him up and then let the reins loose on Mesa's neck, allowing him to take a breather, and gasping for air herself. The wind had whipped tears from her eyes and she wiped at them before uttering a contented sigh and leaning down in the saddle to fasten her arms around Mesa's golden neck, enjoying the warm, sweet smell of him as he munched at the grass.

"Pretty lucky, aren't I?" Rose asked the horse, her voice muffled in his long silver mane.

At first she couldn't understand what was happening. She was only aware of a glancing pain on the side of her face where Mesa suddenly threw his head up, startled, crashing into her lowered cheek.

She almost lost her seat as he danced, so disoriented was she by the blow. Frantically, her hands grabbed at the loose reins, but one had dropped off his neck and dangled by his foot.

"What's wrong with you, silly?" She wondered in a shaky voice, remembering Lou's constant instruction to talk to the horses…it doesn't matter what you say, your voice eases them.

She made a quick lunge and secured the rein, sighing with relief. Mesa snorted and started backing up in earnest, throwing his head down and digging into the dirt.

"What is wrong with…" She started, looking in the direction of his pricked ears. They soon flattened, and his tail swished with irritation.

She need look no further than a few hundred yards in front of her to discover the source of her horse's nervousness. Five Indian braves had pulled up on the rise, and sat watching her closely.

Rose tried to swallow, but found that the lump of fear in her throat made that impossible. Her hand touched the rein, jingling it ever so slightly to get her horse's attention. "You're gonna have to run boy…and this time it counts," she whispered, as the first loud whoop from the Indians filled the air, dispelling her fervent prayer that they might be peaceful.

Rose had known fear before, but nothing quite like the raw terror that gripped her now as she leaned low over Mesa's neck and turned for home. He was a quarter horse, and true to his breed, he was in a flat run in no time at all, and pulling ahead of the Braves. She only prayed that he could keep his lead as far as the ranch.

She couldn't see anything for the tears whipped from her eyes, and so finally decided to close them, trusting the horse to carry them to safety. His ears were pinned against his head, clearly understanding that this wasn't a friendly romp.

Rose finally dared to glance behind her and gasped. The gap was closing rapidly, and she screamed when she saw one man drop the rawhide rein across his horse's neck and draw his bow.

"Run!" She screamed into the wind, then thinking the better of it, "Help!"

An arrow shot past her head and Mesa, catching sight of it out of the corner of his eye, bucked and doubled his speed, nearly dislodging her again.

Then she saw the ranch rise into view, and let out a piercing scream, and another and another. She hadn't thought about bringing a war party down on them without warning, but that was exactly what she was doing.

She sighed in relief when she saw Jamie, Seth, Carlos, and Patrick emerge from the stables, guns in hand. She watched, as if just a spectator in the scene as Jamie and Seth both grabbed the two closet horses, and leapt on them bareback, starting at a dead run with guns drawn. Patrick and Carlos went to find two more.

Mesa suddenly screamed and bucked violently, and Rose only felt mild surprise to find herself flying through the air, only to land with an impact that forced all the air out of her lungs.

"Rose!" Jamie's voice pierced through the sound of her own gasping, and she closed her eyes tight as she heard the guns fired. Once, twice, three times, then relative silence, with some hooves thundering closer and others retreating.

She was already sitting up when he slid off the horse and crouched beside her, shaking her shoulder.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Rose nodded her head, still not trusting her voice to speak. Seth slid down next to them and crouched as well, asking the same questions.

More hoof beats drew close, and Patrick and Carlos both jumped off their horses before they'd stopped.

"Rose?" Patrick asked breathlessly, and Rose realized grimly that it was the first time he'd called her anything but some derivative of lassie.

"I'm fine," she finally mumbled, her voice sounding incredibly composed. She sighed and started to climb to her feet as four pairs of hands reached out to pull her up. "I'm fine," she repeated, this time her voice not so strong.

"Where's Mesa?" she asked, looking around wildly.

"Probably already in his stall, quaking in his shoes," Jamie smiled, and Rose was alarmed at how pale his face seemed.

"Are you alright?" She asked him.

He attempted a smile, but failed miserably, and didn't lie to her, "Been better. I didn't think we were gonna make it in time, and when you fell, I really thought it was over."

Seth nodded, "You're lucky, little Rose."

Rose sighed and nodded, thinking it ironic that she'd had the same thought before all hell had broken loose.

"Come on, you can ride back with me," Jamie offered, and lifted her easily onto the small sorrel he'd startled out of a peaceful nap moments ago.

Jamie felt his breath leave him in a shaky sigh and his muscles all went limp when he climbed on the horse. Behind him, he was aware that Rose was shaking like a leaf, and he put a hand around the one clutching his middle to reassure her.

"It's alright now," he told her in the voice he might have used to calm a spooked horse.

"Will-will they be b-back?" her teeth were beginning to chatter, and he guessed it wasn't from the cold.

"No. We nicked two of them, and we have guns."

Rose shivered violently despite herself. Jamie sighed, and glanced back to see her face had gone a startling ashen gray, except for a slight bruise on her cheek.

"What happened to your face?" he wondered.

"Mesa reared up and knocked me good…I'd beat him for it, but he saved my life."

"That he did. I'd say he deserves a hot bran mash tonight," Jamie replied softly, then added, "And so do you."

Rose smiled, despite herself, "I never cared much for bran mashes."

Jamie laughed, and rode straight into the stables and stopped before Mesa's stall before sliding off and lifting Rose down. She was still unsteady on her feet.

"Figured you might want to say thanks to your horse. Don't worry, I'll unsaddle him. You hurry and get to the tack room and warm up. Mom and Dad will be home soon, and I don't want you in the house alone just yet, alright?"

Although he was only two years older than her thirteen years, his voice rang with authority, and Rose nodded without protest.

He turned to rub his mount down as she let herself into the stall, that sure enough, Mesa had made his own way to.

She wrapped her arms tightly around the golden neck, and whispered a thousand shaky thanks to Mesa. He snorted and wuffled in her ear softly, then tossed his head restlessly.

"What is it?" She whispered to him, her eyes drifting to his, and seeing that his expression was not a happy one. He flattened his ears slightly and suddenly bared his teeth, nipping at his flank.

Rose quickly ducked under his neck to see what was wrong.

"Jamie!" Her scream filled the air, full of panic, and nearly sent the horse James was leading on top of him, and several more nickered nervously.

"What?" He shouted back, letting go of the red horse altogether and starting toward Mesa's stall, where Rose was now sobbing hysterically. He burst in, and Mesa shifted restlessly at his quick movements.

"What?" he repeated, but saw she was beyond words, so he came around to stand beside her.

Soon it was apparent. Blood dripped from the horse's yellow flank, and deeply imbedded in his hindquarter was an arrow.

"He's going to die, isn't he?" Rose sobbed, attaching herself to his neck again, "No! Oh please don't die, Mesa!"

Carlos and Patrick both poked their heads into the stall.

Jamie sighed with dread and turned to Carlos, who was something of an animal doctor, "You'd better have a look at this Carlos."

Rose was vaguely aware of them conversing in low tones, meant to sooth both the animal and her.

Patrick soon came to pry her arms from around his neck and try to steer her out of the stall. His voice held none of his normal good humor as he told her, "Come on lass, let's get ye to the tack room, the stove's burning. Ye're chilled as a bloody block of ice."

Rose started to follow him numbly when Carlos' thick, low voice drifted to her, "I don't think there is much we can do. I think we'll have to put him down…"

"No!" The scream tore from her lips and she broke free of Patrick's grasp and put herself between the horse and the two young men, "No! Please don't!"

"Rose, the horse is in pain. There's nothing we can do," Carlos reached out to touch her shoulder in sympathy, "The arrow is very deep, and the wound won't heal."

Jamie felt tears touch his own eyes as she wept bitterly in front of them, turning around and laying her head on her arms across the horse's back, giving into long, body wracking sobs. It didn't help matters when Mesa turned his head and nudged her slightly with affection.

"Maybe there is something we can do," Jamie didn't realize the voice was his until everyone was staring at him. Rose with new hope, and Carlos, Patrick, and Seth, who'd secured the horses and had just arrived to take in the scene, with doubt.

"Seth, will you ride into town and get Dad and Mama? They'll want to know what's happened, and I may need Dad. They are supposed to be at the town meeting. Probably a good idea to mention the Indian trouble anyway so folks are aware. Patrick, I need you to light all the lanterns, we're losing light. Carlos, I need your help."

"What do I do?" Rose asked softly, her fingers curling into her horse's mane with the strength of new hope.

"You stay with him and talk to him, alright?" Jamie said, and looked into her hopeful eyes, "Rose, I can't promise you nothin', he may not live…I've never done this, only heard about it, alright?"

Rose nodded, but he could see it was too late. The blind faith and trust was too clear in her expressive eyes, and the weight of it suddenly was heavy on his shoulders.

Despite the chill that settled over the barn, Jamie and Carlos were both soon wiping sweat from their brows. Mesa was hobbled on his side, and didn't like it one bit. Only Rose, who crouched by his neck, her back turned on his wound, kept him from panicking badly.

James glanced at Rose's turned back, and shook his head. The arrow was imbedded deep in his hide, and the horse had lost a lot of blood. Surely, if the arrow hadn't punctured a kidney, then the muscle would be damaged and it would cripple him. Jamie sighed. As long as the horse lived, for Rose's sake, Jamie would consider it a battle won.

"I'm going to pull the arrow out, and then I'm going to need that burning stick to seal the would up, or something…" Jamie couldn't recall the actual reason he had to touch the wound with a burning stick, he just knew that was what Sam Cain had done to save Katy when she'd been shot.

Mesa screamed and flattened his ears when James went to pull the arrow from the tender hide, "Watch him, Rose, he may try to bite," he warned her, "Stay on your toes."

With tears running down her cheeks, she nodded, not turning around, and placed a hand on his neck. Mesa screamed in pain, a horrifying sound that she never wanted to hear again, and thrashed out, barely missing her with a front hoof that came lose from his hobble.

"The stick now!" Jamie shouted, and Patrick thrust a burning stick into his hands. James thrust the stick into the wound, and Mesa screamed again, kicking with all his might, and narrowly missing Jamie's face.

When the sizzling stopped, and the air smelt of burnt horsehair, Jamie stood back and with a tug undid the last of the hobbles. He, Carlos, and Rose stood expectantly, waiting for Mesa to climb to his feet.

For a tense moment, the horse lay perfectly still, and Jamie was sure that he'd killed the poor animal.

Then, as if suddenly realizing that he was free, Mesa snorted and clamored to his feet clumsily, tossing his head.

He looked at if he'd bolt from the rude people who'd been poking at his sore hind end, then nickered and came up to Rose, thrusting his nose into her hand.

"Bleeding stopped," Patrick mumbled, reaching out to stroke Mesa himself, "There's a good lad. Seems to be sound enough."

With a smile, Carlos reached up to stroke Jamie's hair in a similar fashion, "There's a good lad, too," he said, his Mexican accent sounding absurd with the Irish intonation, and they all laughed.

"All right, lass, it's off to warm up with ye now," Patrick said firmly, and went to tug on Rose's shoulders, "Tell the beast goodnight. I expect ye'd sleep in here with him if we'd let ye, but put that notion out of yer bonny wee head."

Rose kissed her horse on the muzzle, and started to walk away willingly, but suddenly broke free again and ran back to Jamie throwing her small form into his arms.

She was suddenly sobbing again, her tears wetting the front of his sweaty shirt even more, and Jamie laughed and set her on her own feet, keeping a gentle grip on her arms and bending down to meet her eyes.

"What's all this?" He asked, smiling.

"You saved his life, and mine!" She finally choked out.

Jamie laughed and wiped her tears, bringing up his own sleeve to wipe at her nose as well, "And I have a feeling you're more grateful for my keeping the horse around, aren't you?"

Rose raised her eyes to his, and studied them intently. They were such a bright, vibrant blue, and so gentle, as were his hands at her shoulders. He'd saved her life twice now, and her horse's too, and he was right, the latter ranked somewhat higher than the former.

She shook her head yes, and turned away cheeks flaming.

But she realized, at that moment, with the typical sureness of a young girl's heart, that he was her hero, and she would love Jamie McCloud always.

Rose let Patrick sit her gently on the beat up bunk in the tack room, used by Kid when a young mare was close to giving birth for the first time, and leaned against him heavily, trembling.

"Why were the Indians chasing me?" She finally asked, shivering as the warmth of the tiny stove in the room started to embrace her, reminding her just how cold it was outside.

"Who knows? I'd imagine something provoked them."

"Me?" Rose asked, incredulously, "I was on the McCloud's land still!"

"Aye, I know, lass. It wasn't yer doing."

"They are savages aren't they?" Rose asked softly.

"Well, I'll tell ye God's honest truth. I come straight from a land where bloody English soldiers burn and rape and plunder every day. Burned my own home from over me, left me and me mother and father out in the dead of winter with not a cup to beg with. Died of the famine, both of them, so I came here. But before that, I saw both people, English and Irish, commit some bloody horrible acts. Me, I did some bad things too. And I'll tell you lass, I don't see as it's much different for the Indians than it was the Irish. God gave them the land, but it'll slowly be ripped from their hands. Gets harder to tell who's the savage then, no?"

Rose shrugged, "Maybe. But I am not taking their land!"

Patrick put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tightly, realizing she was too young for this discussion. "Indeed ye're not. Lay down now, lassie. Ye've had a long day."

Rose would have protested, but the mattress was soft, and she was horribly sore from her fall, and her eyes felt like they'd been sand papered from all her crying. Obediently, she lay down, and smiled her thanks when Patrick lay a clean horse blanket over her.

A while later, Jamie walked into the tack room, shivering and looking blue around the lips, and went straight to the stove.

"Been a long day," He murmured to Patrick, who was cleaning a saddle. He smiled when he spotted Rose, sleeping soundly, "Longer for some than others, I guess."

"Ye did good today, lad," Patrick smiled, feeling much more than ten years older than the fresh faced boy.

Jamie grinned, "Thank God it all turned out alright. I didn't have the heart to put down the horse," he said, growing serious, then cleared his throat and turned pink around the ears, "For Rose's sake, I mean."

"Aye, for Rose's sake then," Patrick said knowingly. "Ye're mother and father not home yet?"

"Turns out Bill Tompkins wife is very sick. Mom is staying with her and trying to help the doctor, and Dad was staying with Tompkins. They won't be home till late. I already sent Seth back out there to tell them everything was fine here."

"Ye think the Indians will come back?"

Jamie sighed, "I don't think so. I hope not," he added, his voice uncertain.

"Why don't ye take her to the house and get yerself some supper and go to bed?"

Jamie nodded, "I think I will." He sighed, and walked to the bed, "Seems a shame to wake her, doesn't it?"

Patrick grinned, "Well then don't. She does not weigh more than a sack of grain, I'd wager."

Nodding, Jamie reached down and gently lifted the girl out of the bed, horse blanket and all. She stirred and murmured in irritation, but didn't wake up. Her head fell heavily against his neck.

"Goodnight then, Patrick."

"Night Jamie."

Jamie deposited the boneless weight of Rose on the couch in front of the fireplace, and built a roaring fire. The trip from the stables to the house had set her to shivering again, and he covered her with two or three new blankets.

Sighing, and content that Rose would be warmer here than in her own bed, he stifled a yawn and climbed up to his room.

He was in the middle of a disturbing dream about horses who walked on their hind legs like people, and talked as well, when a blood curdling scream from below shook the house.

To be continued...Chapter IV

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

The Way Station
Campfire Tales

Email: gliterin@bellsouth.net