The Woodsman's Rose Read online

  “My dears...” It seemed to be all Molly could say.

  Finally released, Suzette gave her father-in-law a tentative smile as he approached.

  “You could have told us, boy-o.” John Patrick’s voice was stern and Suzette’s apprehension returned.

  “Oh, Daddy, stop teasing!” Irene demanded as she skipped forward. She waved a hand in her father’s direction. “Pay no attention to him—he’s always teasing. I’m Irene.”

  Suzette was shocked, but the elder Donovan chuckled as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gallantly. “I’m afraid my daughter’s right, colleen. And here I should be welcoming you. Please forgive an old man his rudeness.” He pressed her hand between his own. She saw tears gleaming in his eyes, too. “Welcome to the family, lass. You’re a lovely addition, indeed.”

  “Thank you,” Suzette murmured, and the tension in the air vanished. Lowell, Evelyn and Jake were introduced, Geordie congratulated by all, and the couple was escorted to the back parlor where a gentle interrogation was accompanied by cups of tea and Molly’s scones.

  “Where did you meet?” Molly asked.

  “In Prescott.” She answered in a mellow voice with no discernible accent. “My grandfather was a watchmaker from Switzerland who settled in Virginia. When the war came, he moved out to Illinois. My father and mother got married there, but as the war dragged on, the business wasn’t doing well. My father decided to move west and try farming, and my grandfather came with us. I don’t remember it. I was only two years old then, and my sister is four years younger than me.”

  Geordie continued the story. "I met her on the cattle drive last fall—she was working in her grandfather’s shop. I don’t know why I went in, but I’m glad I did. I didn’t say anything to her then, since I was sort of half-promised to Patricia, but we’ve been writing letters for a while. I figured I could step back a little when Frankie started to moon over Patricia this summer, and I was really happy when they got engaged.

  “I went to Prescott to ask her father’s permission to court her. I took my wage book, Dad, so he could see I had the means to support her. I didn’t say anything ’cause I thought he might want us to wait a year or two—Suzette’s seventeen—but her parent are real happy for us.

  “I knew I had to get home for the harvest,” he added, “but I couldn’t bear to think of leaving Prescott without her. So I took a chance, asked for her hand and married her before she could give it a second thought.”

  The smile Geordie bestowed on his new wife was beatific. They’d spent a single night together at the hotel in Prescott, emerging starry-eyed and tongue-tied in the morning to catch the stage.

  “I borrowed the buggy from Tommy when we got here. We’re going to take a real honeymoon after Christmas, and go back to see her folks.”

  When Molly offered the couple a bedroom, Geordie knew his family had accepted his new bride. But he preferred to take her down the lane to the cabin where he and Frank had been living. After supper, he drew his father aside and asked if he could buy five acres of land near the river. It was a ten-minute ride from town, and he wanted to build Suzette a home of her own.

  “You’ll buy nothing,” John Patrick responded. “The land is a gift—a wedding gift. And don’t say me ‘nay’.” His eyes twinkled. “When do we begin to build?”

  Geordie smiled at the sound of “we”. He wouldn’t have asked for help, and yet had counted on it. “I hope right after the harvest. I guess I’ll have to see Daniel about the plans.”

  “Aye. Else your house will have its windows, but no doors!”

  WHEN THE HARVEST WAS over, it was time for the annual trail drive to Prescott. Jake was eager to hit the trail with his newly trained black stallion. He now stood taller than all of the Donovan men but Brian. He wore his black holster low on his left side, a dark blue corduroy shirt and a piebald leather vest. His denims were tucked into the tops of his high-heeled boots, and he’d rolled his deerskin boots into the blankets that would be his bed.

  Jake had asked for spurs for his birthday but none of the men but Adam wore them, and none of the brothers had obliged him. Daniel had, in fact, attempted to dissuade him from ever using them, but on this subject Jake would have none of his counsel.

  “I’ll file the rowels down like Adam did, so they won't hurt Blaze.”

  Daniel had shaken his head in chagrin. Adam stopped wearing the spurs for a while after his marriage and the woodsman had hoped he’d discarded them for good. But after they went on again, Brian told him Jesse liked the silver clink they gave off—that it made her feel safer to know that Adam was near. Daniel accepted their presence, still not quite believing no harm could come to Apples.

  Now as the cowboys congregated in the large front yard, Daniel stood with his mother and sisters to see them off. He’d heard his mother crying earlier in the morning, and his father’s voice soothing her. Jake would be in Brian’s particular care and no harm would come to him.

  Molly warned them all, “I dare any one of you to step foot in this house if he is injured!”

  John Patrick chucked her under the chin. “And if I or one of the others is hurt?”

  She tossed her flaming hair and retorted, “If you get hurt, it’s your own fool fault!” As her husband chuckled, she’d relented and hugged him close. “Bring him back to me.”

  “Of course, my darlin’ girl. Haven’t I always brought them back?”

  Daniel stood next to her as Molly handed out new red bandannas to all her sons. It was part of the yearly ritual, and as Jake wrapped his around his neck, Daniel was pleased to see that he pulled it tight before tying it, rather than wearing it loose as the other men did.

  The young black stallion was chomping at his bit. He’d taken readily to the saddle and the companionship of the tall youth who’d gentled him. The woodsman watched the affectionate interplay between horse and rider before Jake mounted, and hoped he’d been able to teach his brother something of the sacredness of life. Of the intelligence that existed in the animal world. Then the frisky black was trotting down the lane, his rider turning once to wave good-bye.

  Chapter 19

  The building of Suzette’s house had to be put off until spring, as winter arrived earlier than anyone expected and brought with it an unusual number of storms. The mountain passes filled with snow and the Navajo moved down from the mountains to their winter camp, a few miles above the Donovan range. With a lull in the bad weather just after Thanksgiving, Daniel and Jake went out to hunt.

  After a full day’s effort, they’d managed to kill a pronghorn buck. They’d slung him upside-down on a branch they carried on their shoulders. As snow began to swirl around them, Daniel called a halt; digging his compass out of his pants pocket, he pointed downhill, to the southwest.

  “’Bout five more miles,” he said. Jake made a noise he construed as disgust. “It won't kill you. We can take ten minutes to rest.”

  “Wish there was something to sit on.”

  “Way it goes, kid. What are you doing?”

  “I saw—” With that, Jake fell to one knee. The rifle he’d cocked went off as he went down.

  “Jake!”

  “I’m all right.” The boy struggled to his feet. “I saw a snowshoe hare—but I guess I stuck my foot in a hole.”

  Daniel grabbed his arm and hauled him up as the mountain above them began to thunder. “Can you run? Come on! This way!” He leaped off on a course across the path of the oncoming avalanche.

  “Jake! NOW!”

  But his brother wasn’t as agile. As Daniel sped clear, he looked back to see Jake rolling head over heels down, down, down the side of the mountain, the snow gathering him up, pulling him in, until he disappeared completely.

  ANNIE HAD BEEN DISTRAUGHT all day, so when her brother said he had a delivery to take to the Donovans, she begged him to drop her off. She knew he agreed only to get away from her raw emotions. Brian answered her knock and, taking the wheel of cheese from her arms, he ushered her in
to the back parlor where Jesse sat close to the fire. Her eyes were too bright and splotches of fever stained her cheeks. As she took Jesse’s hot hand in hers, Annie let herself relax—Jesse was here, where she’d be well taken care of. There was nothing to worry about. She felt a bit foolish, but shrugged it off.

  “How are you?” she asked Jesse.

  “I haven’t been feeling too good.” Jesse’s eyes were green as emeralds against her pale skin. A racking cough overtook her and it was some moments before she could continue. “We came to see—” Again her words were cut off by the cough. Her bluetick hound, Moze, sat her feet whining.

  “We come t’ see Mother,” Brian put in. “Irene’s puttin’ up some tea for us t’ take home. If Mother even lets us go. Said she wants Miss Jesse t’ stay a few days.”

  “Where is she?” Annie inquired.

  “Adam drove her an’ Dad t’ Benson’s for supper. But Rebecca’s here, too. She’s cookin’,” Brian added happily.

  “Where’s Daniel?”

  “Wal... him an’ Jake went huntin’. They was s’posed t’ be back yestid—

  “Miss Annie! Miss Annie!” Brian’s arm was supporting her before Annie even realized she’d fallen off the chaise. He helped her up and sat her next to Jesse, who took her hands and rubbed them briskly.

  “Get her some water, please,” she asked Brian. “Annie, don’t worry. Please, don’t worry. It will be... all right.”

  Not the words but the wrenching cough brought Annie back. She put her arm around Jesse’s shoulders and held her until the fit was over.

  “Hush,” Annie whispered. “Don’t try to talk. I’m all right, really I am.” The women clung to one another until Brian returned with a glass of water. Irene followed him with Jesse’s tea.

  “Thank you,” Annie said in a tiny voice. “I’m all right now.”

  “Are you sure?” whispered Jesse. “Thanks, Irene.”

  “Drink up that tea so you’ll feel better,” Irene told her. “And you’re supposed to be quiet. I’ll find you a pencil and pad—if you want to say something, write it down!”

  Jesse stuck her tongue out at her sister-in-law; Irene made a face back and rummaged through the dainty cherry desk that had been her grandmother’s.

  “Here,” she said to Jesse, “now be still! Annie, are you sure you’re okay?”

  But Annie jumped to her feet and ran into the hall. “Daniel!”

  “It’s all right, aroon.” The rough voice was a relief to those who couldn’t see him. Brian helped Jesse to her feet as Daniel entered with Jake slung over his shoulder.

  “Oh, what happened?” Irene cried. “Jake, are you all right?”

  “Gosh, what a ride! I thought my gut would bust open!” As Daniel dumped him on the chaise, Jake rubbed his stomach. “Brother, you gotta do something about those bony shoulders!”

  “You’re all right?” Jesse was kneeling at his feet on the floor, her face ghostly pale, her hands clutching nervelessly at his knee.

  “I’m fine. Really, Jesse, don’t worry. It’s just my ankle.”

  “What happened?” asked Brian.

  Daniel took Annie’s hand as he responded. “Not much, really. Jake fell and hurt his ankle and I had to pack him home again. That’s why we’re so late—he’s no featherweight any more!” With that, he pulled the knife from his boot and approached his youngest brother again.

  “Daniel!” Jesse’s eyes were wide with horror.

  “I’m going to cut his boot off,” he said with a chuckle. “The ankle’s swollen and I can’t tell if it’s broken or just sprained. Don’t worry, little sister. No surgery performed today.

  “Irene, could you get us some ice? And a towel to wrap it in. Annie, come on over here, please. You and Jesse can hold the top of this boot. Brian, you hold his leg still. And listen, brother,” he said to Jake, “no sudden moves. Got it?”

  “Oh, yeah,” the lad responded. He’d seen that knife cut through fresh hide like butter. “I’m a statue, believe me.”

  Within seconds, the deerskin boot and the sock beneath it were removed. Jake’s ankle was swollen and discolored right down to his toes. “Wow! No wonder it hurts!”

  “Can you move your toes?” Annie asked him. He grimaced with the effort, then shook his head. She looked up at Daniel. “What do you think?”

  “Don’t know. He should be able to move them if it’s only a sprain. But, boy, they sure are swollen, aren’t they?”

  “Mebbe I should go for Doc,” Brian suggested.

  Jesse shook her head vehemently. “Ask Rebecca to look at it,” she wrote.

  “I’ll get her.” Without waiting for an answer, Annie turned and ran from the room.

  “Wow,” Jake repeated, as Irene brought in a towel and a basin full of snow in lieu of ice. “It’s sure a beauty, ain’t it?”

  “Doesn’t it hurt?” his sister asked.

  “Some. But it feels a lot better now the boot’s off.” He held the boot up to his brother. “Guess I’ll have to make another one now, huh?”

  “Kid, from the looks of that foot, you gonna have plenty of time to sit around making boots!”

  “Oh, my,” Rebecca said from the doorway. Wearing a simple gray dress and white apron, she stared down at the lad’s foot—where it wasn’t blue, it was bright red from the cold, or black where the blood was trapped under the skin. “Looks like you did a good job. What exactly happened?”

  “Well, I tripped over a root. But it didn’t seem too bad then. I kept on going for a little ways until it gave out. I twisted it again, I guess, and I fell against a rock. See that cut there? That’s where the rock hit it.”

  “Can you move your toes?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Well, that’s not too surprising.” Rebecca knelt before him. “You say this happened yesterday?”

  “Around three o’clock,” Daniel put in.

  “Yes, it’s had a good long time to swell up. That may be why your toes won't move. Does this hurt?” She ran her finger over his sole.

  “Tickles a bit.”

  “And how about this?” She held his foot by the heel, grasped the big toe and wiggled it up and down, then side to side.

  “It doesn’t feel real good, but it doesn’t hurt real bad either.”

  “All right. And this?” She flexed his foot and he hissed in pain, his fingers clutching at the cushion of the chaise. “I’m sorry. Where did it hurt?”

  He caught his breath with difficulty. “All the way up to my knee. Sort of a sharp pain, and now a pounding.”

  “Well, young man,” Rebecca said, “it seems a good possibility you’ve broken a bone. I think the doctor should look at it. In the meantime, you should keep it packed in snow so it doesn’t swell any more.”

  He made a face as the snow was piled up around his foot and his sister draped the towel over it.

  “Keep it good and cold,” Rebecca advised Irene then turned back once again to her newest patient. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you wind up wearing a cast.”

  “No kidding?” Jake asked. “I always wondered what that would feel like.”

  “Be careful what you wish for.” Jesse passed the note to him with a sly smile.

  As Brian left to fetch the doctor, Annie came back in. “Good news?” she asked.

  “The best! Looks like I’m gonna be laid up for a while. And y’all be gettin’ to wait on me!”

  “You just hold your breath!” Irene advised him, and flounced out again.

  The woodsman helped Jesse up from the floor and settled her in beside Jake, while her dog curled up again at her feet. Then he and Annie took the chaise on the other side of the fireplace.

  “How are you?” he murmured.

  In answer, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Fine, now that you’re here.”

  “Why is Jesse writing things down?”

  Annie started to explain, but Daniel caught his younger brother’s words.

  “... and when I tripped—”


  “Jake,” he warned.

  “But it’s just Jesse. She won't tell. Will you?”

  Jesse’s eyes were big and bright as she shook her head and crossed her heart.

  “All right,” Daniel said. “But no one—I repeat, no one—tells Mother a thing.”

  “I won't,” breathed Jesse.

  “I won't,” echoed Annie. “What happened? I know you didn’t tell us everything.”

  “Well, like Jake said, he tripped. What he didn’t mention was that when he did, his rifle went off. Right into the side of the mountain. An avalanche started and we had to run like anything!

  “Good thing we were on an open trail,” Daniel continued. “The snow started piling straight down the mountain, so we ran cross-wise away from it. The tail end of it caught us, though, and Jake fell and went tumbling on down. When I first looked, all I could see was the barrel of his rifle sticking up out of the snow. I was hoping he’d been able to hang on to it—lucky for him, he had.

  “Also lucky that he was sitting upright when I found him, so I could clear his face right away. But by the time I dug him out, it was too late to get home.”

  “So we stayed the night in this cave Daniel knew about,” Jake put in. “He built a fire, but it was still pretty cold. Then this morning, he packed me on home.”

  “Packed you...” Jesse’s eyes grew even wider with the realization of the danger they’d been in. You could have been killed! she wrote.

  “But we weren’t,” Jake said, “so there’s nothing to be scared about. Really, Jesse, everything turned out okay, didn’t it? Worst of it is, we lost the pronghorn!”

  She sank against a pillow, scribbled on the pad. You’d better pray your mother never hears this, or she’ll never let you out of the house again!

  “Aw, you won't tell her, will you?” he pleaded. “You promised!”

  “Besides, it’s not the worst thing that ever happened,” Daniel put in. Annie moved in closer, but offered not a word of fear or reproach. “I remember this one time when me and Alec...”