Wild Rose

Note to reader: This chapter contains a violent scene.

Jamie paced the parlor like a caged animal, routinely stopping by the window to watch Rose, dancing repeatedly with the new deputy from town. At first, he'd been convinced her only motive was to anger him, but he began to worry as he watched her laughing and talking animatedly with him and Teaspoon.

He knew her at least as well as he knew himself…or he used to…and he could tell when she was putting on an act. As she beamed at the tall man, he knew this was not an act.

"What in the world has gotten into you?"

Jamie flinched. It was Lou's voice. He was still staring out the window, and didn't want to turn and face her.

"Nothing."

"Mmm-hmm. It had better be something the way you stormed off like that. I had to tell poor Elizabeth that you'd taken ill. Have you?"

Yes, Jamie thought, noticing the churning of his stomach that had started when his lips touched Rose's and not stopped since. In fact, the ball only tightened as he saw Rose touch the deputy's arm and laugh, "I'm fine. I've got a headache."

"Your face is an open book, Jamie, just like your father's, and if you're going to lie to me at least be sure I can't see your reflection in the glass!"

Jamie finally dropped the curtain and turned around. His long strides carried him around the room first before he dropped, defeated into a chair, clutching the arms with all his strength to keep himself still.

"What's this about? What is wrong with you?" Lou wondered, angrily, "It's hardly proper for you to be in here while your guests…"

"Worried about propriety are you? Well then maybe you'd better go see to Rose, who is at this moment throwing herself at the new deputy! It's indecent!"

Slow realization spread across Lou's face and she shook her head, "James Noah McCloud," Jamie, by habit, shrank in his chair feeling five years old as her sharp eyes pierced his, "You are jealous! Rose has shown the slightest interest…and that's all it is, interest, not lust, in another man and you've suddenly got to have her! All this time she gladly would have followed you to the end of the Earth, you didn't want her, and now that she's cast a glance at another man, you can't stand it!"

"That's not it!" Jamie bellowed, striking the chair with his fist.

Lou wasn't to be intimidated, "That's so small of you Jamie! Don't tell me this has nothing to do with Rose!"

"It has nothing to do with this new deputy!" Jamie growled back.

"What then? What it wrong with you if not the new deputy?"

Jamie groaned, and stared her in the eyes. He wasn't one to kiss and tell, but damn it, he'd kissed Rose before she ever laid eyes on this man, had realized he felt more for her than any other girl he'd ever known-before she'd found the idiot she was dancing with now. He was on his way to tell her that when he saw her dancing with John Morgan. It wasn't simple jealousy, of that he was sure. But there was no way to prove that unless he told Lou about kissing her, which he could not. It was something too sacred and special for him to share.

"I can't tell you! But I will say this isn't jealousy!"

"Then what else is it Jamie? Because it isn't fair to her to want her only when someone else does! You've had your chance, but I'm warning you, best to leave her alone for now! Because she'll only resent you if you approach her with this now, and you'll lose her trust."

"I already have!" Jamie snapped back, "I'm tired and I'm going to bed."

He went to walk by her, but suddenly she pulled on his arm, and he stopped to look at her. She studied him, tears welling in her own eyes when she saw the tears in his own.

"You're a stubborn fool, and I know you won't listen to my advice, that you're going to tell her probably sooner than later, but I don't want either of you to get hurt."

Jamie nodded, but said nothing. Planting a kiss on her cheek and hugging her tightly, he passed her and went to his room, to spend a tortured night reliving her kiss, and wondering how he could have been so stupid as to let her walk away from him again, thumb or no.

"Might I have the pleasure of your company again, Rose?"

Rose's heart thumped against the front of her chest, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. With pleasure or embarrassment, she wasn't sure, but didn't care. She liked his clear, steady green gaze. She hadn't planned on enjoying his company, but she had very much indeed.

"I don't…" a quick smile from him crushed her doubt, "Yes."

"Splendid," he said, and she enjoyed the graceful accent immensely. He took her hand in his and bent low over it, his lips heating the flesh of her hand, "I'll call on you soon. Goodnight to you."

"Goodnight," Rose smiled, and dropped her eyes shyly as he bowed and walked toward the stables.

She stood alone in the dust, watching the last of the wagons rumble back towards Sweetwater, as Patrick, Seth, Carlos, Buck, Kid, and Teaspoon started blowing out the lanterns.

She closed her eyes, her emotions in turmoil. She could still feel Jamie's kiss as if he'd just lifted his head from hers-laughing, damn him-and her heart beat furiously at the thought. She'd never dreamed such sensation could exist, but he'd proved it to her, awakening her blood and her heart.

But she couldn't do it again. That had been clear in the horrifying moment when she thought he was mocking her. She knew now he hadn't been, but the feeling of what it had been like the first time he'd laughed at her was too fresh, too easily recalled and relived. She couldn't bear it again.

He'd asked her if she trusted him, and she'd told him she did. It was the truth, in some respects, she thought. If Jamie asked her to lie down in front of a herd of stampeding buffalo she would have done it without a thought. If he'd told her that a gun was empty and put it to her head, she would have pulled the trigger. If he told her that the sky was yellow, she wouldn't have asked questions.

But, she realized slowly, if he told her he loved her and he wanted her, the doubts came falling down like rain.

She trusted him with her life.

But not her heart. Not again.

Lou and Kid cast several meaningful looks over the table at one another at breakfast the following morning. The tension was tangible and heavy over the table, like a fog. Jamie and Rose went out of their way to avoid meeting each other's eyes. They were also exceedingly polite to each other, tacking on "please" and "thank you" whenever it was necessary for them to actually speak to one another.

Kid opened his mouth to say something after one such exchange, but a swift kick from Lou under the table deterred him, and with a glare at her, he reached for another biscuit instead.

Jamie excused himself before the meal was through, and walked outside. Lou didn't miss Rose's troubled eyes on his back, but her mouth stayed pressed in a thin line of determination. She wasn't going to talk either, Lou realized.

They didn't have to. Something big had happened last night between them at some point, that was obvious enough.

It was noon and Rose had just finished drying her hair after picking pins out all morning and washing it when John Morgan called. She saw his horse approaching the station, and quickly dressed in a split skirt and a soft yellow blouse that Lou had insisted looked beautiful against her complexion.

She clattered down the stairs and tried to gain her breath as Kid opened the door, and let John Morgan in.

She didn't miss Kid's sharp eyes, sizing the young man up carefully, as if deciding if he was worthy of speaking to Rose. From the look on his face he was not, but nevertheless, he politely invited him into the parlor.

Rose reintroduced him to Lou and Kid, who'd met him last night, and Lou tried to make up for Kid's coolness by being particularly friendly. After a moment of small talk and a bit of interrogation on Kid's part, John cleared his throat lightly.

With perfect manners, he asked, "Mr. and Mrs. McCloud, I came by to ask your permission to let Rose accompany me on a ride? I've heard wonderful things about your ranch, and would be honored to see the land myself."

Kid warmed slightly at this, Lou noticed with a wry smile. He still looked hesitant at releasing Rose to his keeping, so Lou stepped up and smiled at John, "Of course, if Rose would like to go, she may."

All eyes turned to Rose, who blushed and nodded, "I'd love to show you the land."

John smiled, and offered her his arm as they walked from the parlor and out of the house. Lou put a restraining hand on Kid's arm when he went to follow them.

"Oh, leave them alone. Rose will be fine."

Kid grinned down at her, and tickled her chin, "Let's just hope she's not as wonton as you were."

Lou smacked him soundly in the chest that suddenly rumbled with laughter.

Jamie was bent, shoeing a horse when he heard voices at the end of the stable. He glanced up, expecting his mother or father, and felt the color drain from his face when he saw Rose with him.

How dare she flaunt John Morgan in his face, and better yet, how dare John Morgan lay his hand so personally over hers! The paleness was quickly replaced by a flush of fury.

The horse snorted when he straightened up and dropped the hoof abruptly.

Seth, from the horse's head, looked at him in surprise, then glanced in the direction he was staring. His mouth twitched with worry at what Jamie would do, and he opened his mouth in warning, but Jamie was already walking down the aisle.

Rose giggled at something John was saying and dropped her arm as they reached Mesa's stall. She was undoing the bolt when she saw Jamie heading towards them with purposeful strides.

She took her breath in sharply, and allowed her eyes to bore into his fully for the first time since their kiss. A million currents passed between them in the stare.

No Jamie, you leave him alone, her eyes warned him.

I'll do what I damn well please, the answering glare.

Rose sighed, and steadied herself for battle.

Jamie came to a stop abruptly, studying the Englishman closely. They were quite a contrast, one pale, the other dark, one in trousers and a shirt left unbuttoned in the heat, the other in formal breeches and a waist coat.

Was the disdain on Jamie's face clear to John, Rose wondered, or was it only that she knew him so well?

"I don't think we've met. I'm James McCloud."

Rose noticed instantly that while he offered John his hand he did not offer him his friendly name.

"But you can call him Jamie. Everyone calls him that," Rose said sweetly, avoiding the murderous blue eyes at all costs. Jamie could do nothing short of look like a child by refusing to answer to John addressed as such, "Don't they Jamie dear?"

"All my friends do," he replied evenly.

What had caused this sudden hostility between them? Was it all because of John, or something else altogether, she wondered.

She listened to the polite exchanges between the two for a moment, watching each of them size the other up and apparently each feel superior, before she could take no more.

"Jamie, if you don't mind, John and I are going riding this afternoon, and we should be on our way."

Jamie bowed with gallantry Rose knew was sheer mockery, and stood back, "Far be it from me to keep two people from an afternoon of merriment. Careful though," Jamie said, wanting to hurt her like it hurt him to see her with this man who couldn't understand the depths of her as he could, "there's just a kiss of coldness on the air, still."

The innuendo brought tears to her eyes, and Jamie instantly felt his own pain double. She blinked them down and turned to her horse hiding her face from both of them.

"Yes, I feel the coldness too," Rose finally said in a low voice, and Jamie had to step back as she led Mesa from his stall. He would have sworn the horse tried to tread on his toes on purpose.

John hung back for a minute, offering his hand.

Jamie clasped it tightly, and for a moment it was a test of strength as both men pumped hard.

"Don't worry yourself, I'll watch her well," John said, the smugness in his voice not hidden in the least.

"Watch yourself as well," Jamie said pleasantly, the threat made clear enough by the stony set of his jaw and the fires in his eyes.

Jamie was still in the barn when she stormed in late that day, alone. He thought about ducking into the nearest stall and avoiding her, but her furious eyes sought him out before he could move.

"How dare you! How dare you accost him as if he was doing something wrong!" She shrieked in fury, not stopping before she reached his toes and stood glaring up at him.

"I only introduced myself, Rose. The polite thing to do," Jamie said calmly, although his blood was heating to a fine boil.

"The hell you did," Rose shot back.

Jamie looked back at her directly and flinched inwardly. While her eyes had the look of a frozen calm last night, today they boiled in rage. They were a stormy, dark gray, almost blue and she didn't blink or look away.

"You've got a problem with him, and I want to know what it is!" Rose snapped, "He hasn't done anything to you!"

Oh, but he has! Jamie thought.

"It isn't him that is the problem, it's you! Did you like my kiss so much that you figure you'll go around and try it on everyone in town now?"

Rose's hand moved like lightning, but he was just as quick and caught her wrist before she could slap his face. However, there was no way to stop the booted foot that caught him squarely in the shins.

He swore loudly, and released his hold on her wrist for a minute. She didn't storm away like he expected her to, but calmly crossed her arms and glared at him.

"If you do that again, I'll forget you are a woman!" Jamie warned her, his face contorted in fury, as he bent to rub his shin. "Understand me?"

"Do you think I'm scared of you, Jamie McCloud?"

They looked at each other for a moment, toe to toe and faces red with anger before Jamie sighed, and felt his fury leave him.

"You can't just pretend like last night didn't happen, you know," he finally said softly.

Rose stared at him, trying to decide if she could lower her voice as well. When she seemed in possession of her speaking skills again, she told him, "Last night was a mistake, Jamie. You know it as well as I."

"Do I?" Jamie asked her, reaching out to touch her chin, "I didn't think it was a mistake at all."

Rose finally broke the stare that followed and shook her head, "No, I can't do this again. I-I'm leaving."

She turned to go, and got two steps before Jamie reached out to touch her shoulder. She stopped without turning around.

"Why do you always run away from me?" He wondered gently.

"The same reason you never follow."

She started walking again, and Jamie thought about following her just to prove her wrong. But, though his heart knotted, and he realized she was right, and his feet stayed planted. Pride kept them both on their courses, him standing still, her escaping the dimness of the stables.

"Do you think you two can manage without killing each other?" Lou asked a week later as she stood by Kid, tying her bedroll.

Rose and Jamie glanced sideways at each other. A temporary truce called between them, they still were not at ease around each other. But Lou had been so excited about going with Kid to trade some horses in Kansas that neither of them would have stopped her for the world.

"I think we'll manage," Jamie answered, and put a hand on Rose's shoulder, not missing the uneasy tightening of the muscle beneath his hands. She smiled brightly and nodded though when his hand squeezed hard to encourage her to be positive.

"You two ride safe," Rose gasped out and deliberately stepped out from under Jamie's hand so she could hug and kiss them both.

They followed them out on the porch and watched as they took the reins from Seth and Buck who waited for them. Kid, astride his black and white paint Belle, and Lou on her young black colt named Target, they made a fine sight as they rode from the station, side by side, and both as straight and tall in their saddles as they'd been at fifteen.

Jamie's face curved into a grin of admiration. He glanced beside him to see a similar look on Rose's face.

Without speaking to her, he walked down the stairs and toward the stables to begin his chores.

It was getting dark and still no sign of Rose, Jamie thought, faint worry eating at him, but losing to the irritation. She'd gone to town to eat dinner with him, thus leaving Jamie no choice but to either fix his own dinner or to go to Rachel's house.

Teaspoon was home for dinner and studied Jamie's sour look with a grin, "Don't worry, boy, John will take good care of her."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Jamie muttered without thinking.

Teaspoon burst into hearty laughter, "A little jealous, are you?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" He demanded with a defiant look that reminded Teaspoon keenly of the look Lou obtained when someone hinted she couldn't do her job because she was a woman.

"Because you're practically green in the face with it," Rachel answered for him, and helped another spoonful of stew onto his plate.

"Well, I'm not! I just don't want her thinking because Mom and Dad are away that she can stay out till all hours with this-" realizing he was speaking to John's employer and his grandfather, he closed his mouth abruptly.

Rachel and Teaspoon cast each other a look that only made him more adamant.

"I'm not jealous! But she's spending an awful lot of time with him, and no one seems to care how it looks!"

"How does it look son?" Teaspoon wondered, "Rose is old enough to make her own decisions and spend her time as she pleases. She's got a fine head on her shoulders. Besides, nine o' clock is hardly 'all hours' of the night."

"Never mind," Jamie muttered, seeing they wouldn't understand either. Was he jealous? He shook his head slightly. No. It wasn't that.

However, the scene later that night seemed to indicate otherwise, he would discover.

The young mare had colic, and a bad case as well. That was why Jamie was in the stable near ten o'clock, with Patrick and Carlos when he heard hoof beats and laughter on the summer air.

Rose guided Mesa to the back entrance to the stable and stopped him, glancing shyly at John. He got off his horse and came around to lift her from the palomino.

Jamie didn't like to think he was eavesdropping, but he couldn't really deny it when he craned his head toward the doorway. Carlos and Patrick, looking mildly ashamed, did the same.

"Thank you for dinner," Rose's voice was soft, dreamy.

"A small price to pay for your company, I think," John Morgan had responded in his rich accent, "You've got the most unusual bloody eyes," he then added. Jamie raised an eyebrow. Somehow his beautiful seemed better than unusual bloody when describing her eyes, and he was satisfied.

However, Rose didn't seem to think so, "Really?"

Jamie cursed her for sounding so enchanted.

Her heart was beating fast. She'd known him for a week, and he was handsome, and kind and attentive, and even with all those qualities, even better-a distraction from Jamie.

Now, she glanced up at him with the same reckless abandon that made her first request a dance with him. And for the same reason, to drive away the ghost of another dance, another smile, another kiss, she smiled and wet her lips nervously.

"Would you like to kiss me?" Her voice was very soft, a shy invitation, but an invitation nonetheless.

Jamie felt his face go white in shock before a flush of embarrassment and anger rose to his face, and his hands trembled. He longed to strike something, but doing so would give them away. Patrick and Carlos shifted uncomfortably, watching Jamie nervously, and ready to tackle him should he take it upon himself to kill the Englishman.

"I'd like that very much, Rose."

His voice was gentle. His kiss not so much so. Rose was a bit surprised at the aggressive demand of his mouth, but she yielded to him, and met him. There was nothing tender and gentle, no give and take. He took, and took, demanding more and giving little. There was passion and fury in the kiss, and her blood ran warm with excitement, and thrilled at the power of him. But, at the same time, she felt herself shrinking with fear when she tried to pull away and he didn't let her.

She made a sound of protest, and placed both hands against the wall of his chest, pushing slightly at first, then more firmly as he pressed her closer to him. His hand crept up her side, and knowing its destination, finally she pushed with all her might, yanking back.

When he reached for her again, her voice was strong, "Stop."

Hearing this, Jamie started to charge to her defense, his hands shaking even more uncontrollably that John might be hurting her. Patrick and Carlos both grabbed him hard, and shook their heads. John was talking again, and obviously Rose had handled the situation by herself.

Rose drug her hand across the back of her mouth, lips feeling bruised slightly. Her eyes glared at John accusingly, but he made no excuses.

"You're beautiful, and alive Rose. I knew you would be, but not how much so! I didn't mean to scare you, and I'm sorry. You needn't worry about me hurting you, though. I'll never do anything that you don't ask me to."

Rose trembled slightly. She had invited him to kiss her, and she was still dizzy from the effects of it. Finally she nodded, "I know you wouldn't hurt me John. I-I just…" she paused, and realized she had nothing to say, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, my darling. May I see you again?"

Jamie tensed, so close to his snapping point that veins stood in his forehead and the muscles in his neck bulged, the pulse in his throat visible as his blood made a slow, murderous journey through his tense limbs.

"Of course," Rose's voice sounded, and with a last goodnight to each other, they heard retreating hoof beats.

Rose sighed, and watched him go, then picked up Mesa's reins and walked him into the barn, touching her lips with the tips of her fingers.

Patrick and Carlos went quickly back to their work, not wishing Rose to know they'd listened to every thing. They took it for granted that Jamie would do the same, but were proved wrong.

At the sight of her, Jamie flung down the cloth he'd been holding and headed toward her.

Rose was so trapped in the mix of wonder and fear John's kiss had left with her that she didn't see Jamie until he was right in front of her.

She gasped in surprise when she saw his face, but had no time to gain her wits before he seized her hard by the shoulders and gave her a good shake. Then another.

"What the hell are you doing? Smearing my family's name and honor! After all we've done for you!"

Rose felt her head snap back and forth and she bit her tongue hard. He was screaming, but the roaring in his ears drowned out the next words.

Patrick and Carlos were soon on him, pulling him back from her, and leaving her trembling badly as her fury mounted.

"Your name!" She shrieked as he shrugged off their restraining hands, but didn't advance on her again, "I have my own name! And if I do smear any honor it will be mine, not yours!"

"And you're not concerned in the least about that are you? About your honor! Hell, why should you be?" Jamie yelled back, wanting to strike her but knowing he never could bring himself to do it, and also knowing she'd kill him for it.

"It's none of your business!" Rose shouted back, "Who do you think you are spying on me!"

"Somebody better spy on you!" Jamie roared, slamming his fist into the wall.

"You don't scare me! I've said that before and I'll say it again!"

"Fine!" Jamie's voice climbed in volume, and horses were snorting and backing up in their stalls, "Do what you want! If you want to be a lawman's whore like your mother, far be it from me to stop you!"

"Jamie!" Patrick's voice was sharp, and he shoved him backwards, "Ye'll not speak to her like that!"

Jamie looked past Patrick's blood red face, to Rose's. Usually, when she was angry, she went red, as did he. Now, however, her face had drained of all color, white with fury. Her pupils dilated, and her hands trembled. She took one step forward, then another, stopping in front of him.

He was not fast enough to stop her this time as her hand came crashing across his face, with a force that turned his head and left a stinging red handprint across his cheek.

He kept his head turned to the side, too ashamed to look at her, not because of anything she had done, but what he had said.

"You'll not speak of my mother again," she commanded him, her voice strained with the effort of calmness, "ever."

Jamie opened his mouth, still looking to the side, to tell her he'd speak of who he wanted to, but then closed it.

He could feel her furious eyes, feel the tears threatening them and held back by only sheer will as she looked at him steadily. Then, she backed up, turned, and walked from the stable, not caring for once, if Mesa was tended to or not.

"That was poorly done, lad," Patrick's voice was still trembling in fury, "Ye've no right to say such things. Bloody vicious it was."

Jamie finally glanced at him, then at Carlos, who was shaking in rage, but too angry to say anything. The man's eyes were brighter in fury than he'd ever seen them, and his hands clenched and unclenched as if he longed to crush something.

Without a word, Jamie walked away from them, seized Mesa's reins, leapt upon his back, and kicked the horse into a dead gallop, before he was out of the stable, heading in the direction of Sweetwater.

"Do you think he'll do himself or the deputy harm?" Carlos wondered.

"No," Patrick said with relative certainty, "Not the deputy. I imagine the lad's going to get good and drunk."

"Just as well," Carlos said, "Even so, I'm going to go and watch him."

"Ye alright, yerself?" Patrick suddenly asked, "Ye look a mite dangerous."

"Si, I'm fine," came the reply as the dark man walked out of the stable and disappeared in the shadows.

Patrick shivered, and turned to the sick mare, "The dark angel, is he now?"

Jamie hated the taste of whiskey with a passion. Still, he had to admit, after the third shot, he couldn't taste it much anymore, and the pleasant burning feeling in his stomach eased the knots that had been there for a week now.

He groaned and dropped his head into his hands, thinking of what he said to her, "You fool," he said, talking to himself. So acute had been his own pain that she'd invited another man to take what she'd given him in trust that he'd wanted to do her harm.

He felt sorry for himself a bit longer when he heard a blood curdling scream outside the saloon. As did everyone else, Jamie staggered to his feet and stumbled outside to see what the fuss was about.

The reality brought with it instant sobriety, and horror, piercing through the haziness of his brain like a bullet. In the alley, a saloon girl lay dead, covered with what seemed like gallons of her own blood. Her throat was laid wide open with a knife, exposing a severed trachea and jugular vein-or at least what would be called a jugular in the animals he doctored. Whatever the name for it, it had carried the life's blood out of her just as quickly as it would have a horse or cow.

"Murder!" The panic was rippling through the crowd like a wave, and he pushed himself forward to get a better look so that he might make a report to Teaspoon.

His shriek sounded above the others though, when he crouched beside the young girl and realized all of the blood did not come from her throat.

Some of it came from a severed ear, crammed into her mouth.

To be continued...Chapter VII

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

The Way Station
Campfire Tales

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