"She'll apologize to Adam," she promised.
"Or what?" Travis asked.
"Or she'll leave," Mary Rose promised.
"What about me, Miss Mary? She called me an ignorant mule. She said I didn't know what a bath was. She said a lot of other nasty things about me too, but I ain't gonna repeat them. She's got the sting of a hornet, I'm telling you. And for what? All I did was try to pitch her out at the junction. Was that a crime, I ask you? You know I've got my standards."
"Yes, I know. No one's ever going to find out you broke your policy to bring her here. None of us will tell anyone. Eleanor's going to apologize to you too, Clive. She'll pay for a brand-new hat. Will that make you feel better?"
Clive looked like he wanted to weep with gratitude. Mary Rose patted him.
"You're a good man to put up with her. I know how she can be. She was my roommate at school. I'm so sorry you were inconvenienced."
Clive leaned forward. "And terrorized, Miss Mary. I ain't afraid to admit it."
Cole rolled his eyes toward heaven. "I say we set the coach on fire. She'll get out fast then. I'll buy you a new one, Clive."
Mary Rose closed her eyes again. She decided not to waste any more time soothing anyone. She pulled away from her brother and ran over to the side of the stagecoach.
Clive backed up all the way to the steps leading up to the porch.
Mary Rose knocked on the door and then tried to open it. It wouldn't budge.
"Eleanor, I'm home now. Please open the door," she called out.
"It's Mary Rose."
She heard the click of the bolt as it was unlocked. She opened the door then and climbed inside. Before anyone could see inside, she shut the door behind her.
There was enough of a crack between the curtains for light to filter inside the coach. Mary Rose took one look at Eleanor and was immediately flooded with guilt over all the stories she'd ever told about her. Her old roommate looked terrified. She was huddled in the corner of the coach and was visibly shaking with fear. Tears streamed down her face.
Mary Rose sat down on the bench across from Eleanor and started to lean forward to take hold of her hand. She noticed the gun then. Eleanor was holding it in her lap. The barrel was pointed at Mary Rose.
She wasn't alarmed. Just nervous. Eleanor was looking at her, but Mary Rose didn't think she was really seeing her.
"When did you get a gun?" she asked.
"Last week."
"Do you know how to use it?"
"Not yet. I'll learn."
"Guns are dangerous, Eleanor. You shouldn't be carrying one."
"I cut my hair. Do you like it?"
Mary Rose wasn't at all surprised by the question. Eleanor had always tended to be a little self-involved. Her appearance came before everything else-apparently even terror.
The poor woman was so frightened, her hands were shaking. She had a wild look in her eyes, and Mary Rose was suddenly reminded of a deer trapped in a tangled mass of brier.
Eleanor was a strikingly pretty woman with dark black-brown hair and vivid green eyes. Her hair used to be shoulder length but now only just covered her ears. It was curly everywhere and very pretty.
"Yes, I do like your hair. It's lovely."
She kept her voice whisper soft. She didn't want to startle Eleanor, and her movements were slow and measured as she reached over and turned the weapon until the barrel pointed toward the floor. She then gently pried the gun out of Eleanor's hand. Her friend watched what she was doing, but didn't try to stop her.
"You don't have to be afraid any longer. You're safe now. Everything's going to be all right."
"No, it isn't going to be all right. Nothing can ever be the same. I didn't want to come here. You know how I dislike primitive conditions."
"If you didn't want to come here, why did you?"
"I didn't have any other place to go."
She finally really looked at Mary Rose. Her eyes filled with fresh tears.
Eleanor looked miserable and still very afraid. Mary Rose decided to find out what had caused her to become so frightened. Her friend had always been quite unemotional at school and somewhat cold-hearted. Except late at night, Mary Rose remembered. She would hear Eleanor weeping then.
"You're a contradiction, Eleanor," she remarked. "Tell me about your father. Weren't you going to Europe with him after you finished school?"
"It was all a lie," Eleanor answered. "Father ran away. He didn't even tell me he was leaving. He just… ran."
"Why?"
"The authorities came to the school to question me. I found out what Father had done then. I had to leave the school of course. The headmistress was furious. It seems that Father had promised her funds to construct a new building."
"She couldn't just toss you out," Mary Rose protested.
"She did," Eleanor insisted. "The last of the fees hadn't been paid. The investigators told me Father had taken money from other people. All these past years he's been stealing from his clients with one scheme after another. He lived high and mighty. He was always impeccable in his dress, always insisted on wearing the latest fashions. He must have had over fifty suits in his wardrobe. Father always had a young woman latched on to his arm."
"And?" Mary Rose prodded when she didn't continue.
"He didn't want me dampening his social position. I was a constant reminder to others how old he was getting. He stuck me in boarding school so he wouldn't have to have me around."
"You can't know if he wanted you or not."
"Yes, I can know. He told me so many times, I got sick of hearing it. He never wanted me. My mother tricked him into marriage by getting pregnant. She died having me, but she had a ring on her finger, so she was probably content."
Mary Rose was appalled by what she was hearing. Her heart went out to Eleanor. She was careful not to show her compassion openly, for Eleanor would undoubtedly think she was feeling sorry for her.
Mary Rose was feeling sorry for the poor woman, but she didn't want her to know it.
Pride. It certainly got in the way of practical solutions.
"I thought you and your father lived an exciting life. Did you go to all those exotic places on your vacations…?"
"No, I never went anywhere. I stayed with the housekeeper at home."
"But the stories you told me about…"
"I read about all those places. That was all. I wanted to impress you."
"Why?"
Eleanor shrugged. "I don't know."
"Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"
"I had my appearances to keep up," she muttered. "Like father, like daughter, I suppose. Besides, you would have pitied me."
"What happened to your father? Where is he now?"
"I don't have any idea. No one does. The authorities are still looking for him. I should be thankful he paid some of my tuition, but I'm not. He used other people's money. He didn't leave me a note telling me where he went. The police didn't believe me. I was taken to a jail and had to stay there for two nights. It was horrible. They finally had to release me. It is all a big scandal, of course. People as far away as Chicago hate me because I'm related to him. Everyone seems to think I know where he's hiding. The authorities were watching the house night and day. It was unbearable. I hid behind the drapes and tried to pretend nothing had happened."
"I'm so sorry," Mary Rose whispered.
Eleanor didn't seem to hear her. "I thought we owned the house, but we didn't. Our landlady threw me out. I didn't know where else to go. You told me I could come to you if I ever needed you. Did you mean it?"
"Yes, of course I meant it."