Chapter Twenty-Six
Morgan and his men saw the rising smoke in the northern range of the ranch. Every available man rode in that direction to see what was going on.
Rose was outside at the paddock feeding apples to Judge, telling him about her lovely wedding as if he were a trusted friend. As Judge munched on the apples, Rose thought of her wedding night. Those were memories she would never share with anyone, not even Judge. At first, she’d been too shy to turn around after Morgan unbuttoned her dress and removed her undergarments. But when she summoned the courage, it had been well worth her embarrassment when she saw the look in his eyes. At the thought, she felt herself blushing, just as she had last night.
She was jarred from her reverie when Judge nudged her arm. “So you want another apple, huh?” She smiled as she reached inside the bandana to pull out the remaining slices. As Judge ate from her palm, she looked out over the ranch and noticed smoke rising to the sky. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would build a fire at this time of day, so she ran to the stable to see if anyone was there. She found one man changing horses, and she told him about the smoke. He jumped into the saddle and rode out fast. She ran back to the paddock and gave Judge the last of the apple. “Granny is napping, so I have to go prepare dinner now,” she said, giving him one last rub on the neck.
On her way to the house, she thought she smelled smoke, but it had to be her imagination since the fire was so far away. But when she looked around, she saw a large black cloud rising from the direction of Granny’s farmhouse.
There were no men at the ranch to go with her, but she couldn’t stand there and do nothing if something at the farm was burning. Stevie might need help trying to put it out. She took off running through the trees in the direction of their farm. The winds were high and Rose didn’t hear the usual sounds in the pines. But she thought she heard someone saying turn back. She turned around but no one was there, so she didn’t heed the warning. She kept running until she cleared the trees on the boundary of their farm. She couldn’t believe what she saw. The farmhouse was ablaze. She clutched her skirt in her hands and ran toward the house as fast as she could, shouting Stevie’s name. Seeing the entire front of the house was engulfed in flames, she headed to the back. She rounded the corner of the house straight into the barrel of a gun.
“Hello, Rose. Or should I say, Mrs. LeMasters.”
Rose could barely speak. Her heart was pounding from exertion, and from fear. The last thing she expected was to see Frankie. “What’s happened? Why are you here? Where’s Stevie?”
Frank didn’t answer her questions. “Where’s Granny?”
“At the ranch, why?” She jumped when the fire exploded to the center of the house, and she felt the heat of the flames on her skin.
“Come on.” Frank stepped away from the house, and motioned with his pistol for her to walk in the direction of the stable.
Rose didn’t move. “What are you doing, Frankie? We need to see if Stevie is inside before the whole house burns.”
“He’s not there.”
“How do you know he’s not in the house?” She tried to walk around him to get to the back door, but he pushed the gun in her ribs. “Why are you holding a gun on me?”
“I told you to walk,” he repeated, nudging her again with the pistol.
The flames consumed all but the back part of the house. Surely, if Stevie was in there when the fire started he got out, but she had to make sure. If Frank shot her, then he shot her. She darted around him and headed to the back door. She never made it. Frank cracked the back of her skull with the butt of his pistol.
Frank left Rose lying on the ground as he ran to the stable to get Stevie’s horse. He led the horse to the back of the house, where he threw Rose over the saddle. He didn’t see Stevie’s saddlebags, so he wrapped the money bag and whiskey bottles in the bedroll. Mounting behind Rose, he rode to the area where he’d left his horse. His first stop would be the Conner house to get his saddlebags he stashed under the rocks. If Corbin had returned, then he could go with him. If not, he didn’t care. Frank had the one thing Morgan wanted, and there was no doubt in his mind Morgan would come after her.
* * *
There was nothing Morgan and his men could do to fight the blaze. Morgan knew the fires had been intentionally set because of the distance between them, and he smelled kerosene. After they got the cattle to safety, they would start digging trenches and chopping down trees to contain the fires.
Morgan and Murph were moving the cattle when Murph pointed toward the sky. “Looks like we are going to get a storm. Thank God, that’ll help us out.”
Morgan didn’t notice clouds earlier, and he gave a word of thanks for all the help he could get. “Divine intervention.” As the words left his mouth, a loud crack of thunder rocked the earth.
“Whatever it is, I’m grateful for it,” Murph said. “Now let’s just hope these cattle don’t bolt in the wrong direction until that fire is doused. I’d bet this was Langtry’s doing.”
Morgan did a quick head count of the men to make sure all of them were accounted for. Morgan knew Frank was responsible—whether he’d lit the fires or directed someone to do his dirty work for him, he was behind it. He’d spotted Joseph earlier, so he knew he was safe. Suddenly, the hair rose on the back of his neck. Rose and Granny were alone. “Murph, no one is at the house.”
Before Murph could respond, Morgan had already urged his horse into a gallop. Murph raced after him. They raced to the house, and Morgan jumped off his horse and ran inside. Granny met him in the kitchen. “Morgan, there’s smoke coming from the farm.”
“No, it’s on the ranch,” Morgan said. “Where’s Rose?”
“I don’t know. I was napping, but I saw smoke coming from the farm,” Granny insisted.
Murph ran inside the house. “Morgan, there’s a fire coming from the farm.”
“Check to make sure Rose isn’t in the house,” Morgan said as he ran outside and looked toward the farm. Black smoke was rising from that direction. “Murph, check the stable to see if Rose is in there.”
Granny looked through every room before she hurried out the front door. “She’s not inside. Something’s wrong because she told me she was going to prepare dinner.”
Murph ran from the stable. “No one’s here,” he yelled.
“Morgan, what is going on?” Granny asked.
“Someone set fires on the ranch,” Morgan explained.
“Rose must be at the farm,” Granny said. “Help me up on your horse. You’re not going without me.”
Morgan didn’t argue. He lifted Granny on Faithful and mounted behind her. “Murph, go with us.” He wasn’t going to take any chances where Rose was concerned. If Frank had his men with him, they could be riding into a trap.
As soon as they exited the pines, they saw the farmhouse was nothing more than charred timber.
“Dear Lord,” Granny said on a sob.
Morgan and Murph exchanged a look. Morgan helped Granny to the ground. “Stay put.” The men pulled their guns and rode closer to the house. They dismounted several feet away from the still smoldering structure. They made their way around the perimeter of the remains, praying they wouldn’t find anyone who had been inside. Morgan stopped and stared hard at the burned-out contents of the home. He smelled the unforgettable odor of burned flesh. Giving no heed to the smoke and the small flames which hadn’t yet burned out, he walked inside to the interior of the house.
“Morgan, it’s too hot to be in there,” Murph called out.
Morgan didn’t hear him; he was focused on a burning board that was at an odd angle in the middle of the house. When he reached the board, he kicked it aside and it broke in half. That’s when he saw the small burned body beneath the board. Without thinking, he tossed aside the smoking debris. He didn’t feel the flesh on his palms burning for the gut-wrenching pain that had seized his heart. He dropped to his knees in the hot rubble, looking to see if this could be anyone but Rose. The body was burned beyond recognition. Everything burned away; flesh, clothing, hair . . . everything. If it wasn’t Rose, it was Stevie. That thought spurred him to action. He jumped up and ran to the stable. If Stevie had been home, his horse would be in the stable.
Murph was yelling at him, asking him what he was doing, but he didn’t stop to explain. Murph walked to the spot where Morgan had kneeled down, and saw what he saw. “Dear God,” he whispered.
Murph ran toward the stable, but stopped short when Morgan stumbled out and dropped to his knees. Silently, he watched his best friend bury his face in his hands and let out a scream so filled with anguish that he drowned out the thunder overhead. Murph stood there helpless. The only other time he’d seen Morgan break down this way was the day Frank nearly killed Judge. Granny walked up beside him, and together they approached Morgan.
Gently placing her hand on Morgan’s shoulder, she whispered, “Is it Rose?”
Morgan tried to compose himself for Granny’s sake. “Stevie’s horse is gone.”
Both Granny and Murph knew by that statement that it had to be Rose’s body in that rubble.
Knowing he had to be strong for Granny, Morgan stood. When he saw the tears flowing from Granny’s tired old eyes, he pulled her into his arms and let her cry on his chest. No matter how he tried to control his emotions, he couldn’t stop his own tears.
“Why did this happen to my sweet Rose?” Granny wailed.
Morgan wasn’t able to respond. His heart felt like it had splintered into a thousand pieces, and he’d never be able to put it back together. He wanted to scream until he was too exhausted to feel the pain. But Granny needed him, he couldn’t break down in front of her.
Murph walked away to get their horses as he wiped tears from his eyes. He knew what would happen next. This was Frank’s doing, and Morgan would show him no quarter this time. He feared not even Granny would sway him from that path. Morgan’s vengeance would be relentless this time, but Murph didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for Frank.
Murph led the horses to Granny and Morgan. “Morgan, it will take some time for this to cool down. I’ll come back later and take care of things. We should get Granny home.”
Morgan nodded. He prided himself on being a man who could handle most things, but he didn’t think he could collect the charred body of his wife. “Granny, none of your belongings will be salvageable.”
“No matter. Nothing really matters now.” Granny didn’t think she’d ever feel the pain of losing another child she loved so dearly. After losing her son, she wasn’t certain she now had a reason to go on.
They were silent riding back to the ranch, each grieving in their own way. Morgan’s emotions were at war. Heartbreak and rage. He had to stay here to see to Rose, but everything inside of him wanted to go after Frank. He figured Frank wanted him to come after him. Frank was going to get his wish. As soon as he buried his wife, Frank was going to see that vengeance did indeed ride a black horse.
Before they got through the trees, the rain came down so hard that they were soaked by the time they reined in at the house.
Morgan glanced at Murph and nodded. Murph understood without words what his friend was saying. With the rain, the farmhouse wouldn’t take as long to cool down and he could get to Rose.
“See to your hands, Morgan.” Murph grabbed Faithful’s reins and led him to the stable.
Morgan assisted Granny inside. “Go change your clothes while I make us some coffee.”
“You sit down and let me see to your hands,” Granny said, her voice lifeless.
Morgan walked to the stove. “My hands are fine.”
Granny followed him to the stove and reached for one of his hands. Her sharp intake of breath expressed her surprise at how badly he’d burned them. “My goodness, Morgan, this must be hurting like the devil.”
“I’m fine.”
Granny took him by the arm and led him to a chair. “Sit.”
He was too tired to argue with her. He sat in the chair as she washed his hands. Afterwards, she slapped some grease on his palms before she bandaged them.
Joseph lightly tapped on the back door before he walked inside. Without a word, he walked to the stove and started making coffee.
“I guess I should get dinner started,” Granny said absently.
“Granny, no one wants dinner. We’ll grab a sandwich later if we get hungry. You go ahead and change out of those wet clothes and get some rest.” Morgan thought she might want to be alone to do her grieving. She looked lost, much like she did after Preacher died. He figured he looked the same. Lost. That word perfectly described the way he felt.
Granny nodded and left the room.
The coffee started boiling and Joseph poured two cups. The two men sat at the table in silence. Morgan appreciated Joseph’s calming presence. After their second cup of coffee, Morgan heard the buckboard pulling out. He didn’t want to think about how he’d found Rose. He couldn’t. “Thanks for the coffee, Joseph. I’m going upstairs for a while.”
When he reached his bedroom, the first thing he did was grab his bottle of whiskey. He pulled the cork out and didn’t bother with a glass. He sat in his leather chair, the same chair he’d sat in the night before with Rose in his lap. He’d only had one night with his bride, but it was the best night of his entire life. Happiness consumed his every thought last night. Just knowing he would have his entire life with her made everything he would accomplish more meaningful. He’d always heard never leave anything unsaid to the people who mean the most to you because no one was promised tomorrow. He wished he’d told Rose that his wedding day was the best day of his life.
Morgan took another swallow of whiskey, leaned back and closed his eyes as he replayed his wedding night in his mind. Rose had allowed him to undress her even though he knew she was embarrassed. Once he’d removed her chemise, she’d waited for what seemed an eternity before she’d turned in his arms. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. She’d reached up and removed the comb in her hair, and the golden strands dropped over her soft, smooth shoulders and covered her breasts. He knew he would carry that memory to his deathbed. Tears streamed down his face.
Morgan sat there for hours thinking of every tender moment of their wedding night. He cried. He drank. And he cried some more. He didn’t know how people went on after such a painful loss. He hadn’t even realized how much he loved Rose, until his wedding day. He knew he was very fond of her, and he admired her character, but it wasn’t until he was standing on that altar looking into her beautiful green eyes that he realized his true feelings. He loved her passionately, and he hadn’t professed his love to her. He had a lot of regrets in life, but nothing compared to this.
There were many things that happened in life he didn’t understand, but having such a short time with Rose made him question why. Was he being punished for harboring hatred against Frank for so long? How could God take away the most precious thing in his life? Not only take her from him, but from Granny. Granny had barely survived the death of her son, she didn’t deserve to experience another devastating loss. Granny’s heart was full of love and forgiveness; she’d never done an evil deed in her life.
* * *
It was still raining when Murph and the two men riding with him reached the farmhouse. Murph couldn’t help but wonder why it hadn’t started raining earlier, in time to save Rose. Some questions just didn’t have answers. He reached under the tarp and pulled out two blankets. Slowly, he made his way to Rose. He couldn’t bear to look at what was left of her body, so he covered her with one blanket and gently lifted her to the other blanket. The two men tossed back the tarp so Murph could place her in the buckboard, and they quickly covered her.
* * *
Morgan didn’t know how long he sat in that chair thinking about Rose. How she looked that day when she got off the stagecoach holding on to her Bible for dear life, and giving him the devil. How fragile she looked when she thought he would hang her brother. The surprise on her face the first time he kissed her. How he felt when she kissed him back. The look in her eyes when he asked her to marry him. How beautiful she looked as he held her in his arms while she slept last night. So many moments passed through his mind, and the moments he longed to see in the future. He wanted to see her carrying their child, giving birth to sons and daughters. Life would go on, he would go on, but he would never be the same.
Hours later, he quietly left the house and walked to the stable. The men had already built a box and had it loaded on the buckboard. Morgan knew Rose’s body was inside, so he climbed in the buckboard and sat beside her. Rationally, he knew Rose was not there, but it comforted him to be by her side right now.
He’d heard many of Preacher’s sermons about rejoicing when a loved one died, knowing they were going to a better place. Right now he couldn’t find it in his heart to be happy. Maybe if he’d spent the next fifty years with Rose, he might be more inclined to accept her death. Even then, he would have prayed he went before her. One thing he knew for sure: God received a beautiful angel today.