River Queen Rose Page 4

  “Can’t we go in?” asked Rose. “I’m dying to see Emmet’s hotel.”

  Ben’s jaw tightened. “Certainly not. From what I see so far, it’s not a fit place for ladies.” He glanced at Raymond. “Nor you either, son. You’re to stay here and guard your family.”

  As they sat waiting in the wagon, Coralee turned to Drucilla and gestured toward the crowd of miners milling about the street. “Look at all those men. I’d wager many of them are single. Seems to me you might meet one who tickles your fancy.”

  Drucilla heaved the same when-will-she-stop-trying sigh Rose had heard a thousand times before. “Please, Ma, I don’t want my fancy tickled. Leave it alone.” She exchanged an eyebrows-raised expression with her sister-in-law, her chief confidante who always understood. Rose did understand, more than anyone in the family, but privately wished Drucilla might be a bit more flexible.

  A few minutes later, a grim-faced Ben returned. Without a word, he climbed in the wagon and took the reins. “Well?” Coralee asked. “Where are we going now?”

  Ben snapped the reins. “To Archer Field’s office. I’ve decided to sell. I want no part of this den of iniquity Emmet called his hotel.”

  In the well-furnished office of Archer Field, only a block from Front Street, the entire Peterson family sat across from the solicitor’s desk. Rose, Drucilla, and Coralee hadn’t wanted to come. They’d caught tantalizing glimpses of the many shops lining Front Street and were anxious to take a look. Who cared if Ben sold the hotel? Legal affairs didn’t concern them. Ben had insisted, though, so they sat listening with halfhearted interest while Mr. Field explained the details of the transaction. “Mr. Talbot has offered twenty-one thousand dollars for the property. An extremely generous offer. That includes the building itself, the stable in back, and all amenities.”

  “I accept the offer.” Ben’s stern voice reflected his resolve. “I don’t hold with gambling and want no part of it. As to what else goes on there, I’m appalled that Emmet—” He bit his lip in chagrin. “When can I sign the papers?”

  The solicitor allowed himself a fleeting smile of satisfaction. “I’ll have them drawn up immediately. They should be ready tomorrow.”

  They all got up to leave. Rose could hardly wait to get out of there. Maybe a bit of shopping would cheer her up. She especially wanted to find a dressmaker and order some new dresses. They were about out the door when the solicitor called, “By the way, Mr. Peterson, one more thing.”

  Ben turned back. “Yes?”

  “You must bring Mrs. Peterson along. I’ll have special papers for her to sign.”

  Ben frowned in puzzlement. “My wife? Why should she be involved?”

  “Not your wife, your daughter-in-law. After I spoke to you, it was brought to my attention that the 1849 California Constitution Convention gives a wife the right to own property separate from her husband. That means the hotel and farm are her property, technically speaking, of course.” Mr. Field chuckled. “Next we know, they’ll be asking for the right to vote. It’s all nonsense, but the law is the law, no matter how misguided, so make sure Mrs. Rose Peterson accompanies you tomorrow.”

  Ben smiled and shook his head. “Such insanity.” Without consulting Rose, or even looking in her direction, he continued, “She’ll be here. I want this unfortunate business over and done with.”

  Outside the solicitor’s office, Raymond spoke up. “There’s something I don’t understand. Did that solicitor say the farm and hotel belong to Rose now?”

  Ben smiled indulgently. “Women aren’t allowed to own property. You should know that.”

  Coralee threw a disapproving look at her son. “Really, Raymond, whoever heard of such a thing?”

  Raymond hated to get involved in any kind of argument. He announced he wanted to go look at horses and would meet them later.

  As they climbed in the wagon, Coralee pressed her lips in a disapproving line. “Wives owning their own property? What were these Californians thinking of? Did you ever hear anything so outlandish?” She turned to where Rose and Drucilla were settling themselves in the back. “Don’t bother your head about it, Rose. Ben will take care of everything. And you can rest assured you’ll always have a home with us. In fact…” With a delicate shrug she added, “It’s much too soon to even think of such a thing, but someday, when you think of marrying again, you might consider not having to change your name.”

  “Why is that?” Rose asked.

  “Just fancy, if you married Raymond, you could remain Mrs. Peterson and live with us forever and ever.” Coralee turned back again.

  Drucilla covered her mouth to hide her laughter and jabbed an elbow into Rose’s side. “Just think,” she whispered, “you could be Mrs. Raymond Peterson. Aren’t you thrilled?”

  Rose jabbed her back and softly hissed, “That’s not funny.”

  Drucilla kept laughing, and Rose could hardly blame her. Much as Drucilla loved her brother, she was well aware of his shortcomings.

  * * * *

  At first, Archer Field’s offhand reminder to Ben that Rose must sign the papers didn’t sink in. She was far too busy at the dressmakers, where she, Coralee, and Drucilla ordered new gowns. How wonderful to have something new after wearing the same patched, faded dresses day after day for months. Such an exciting event put everything else out of her head. Not until they’d finished their shopping and were headed home did its significance strike like a bolt from the blue. Not in her wildest dreams had she thought she rightfully owned the hotel. And the farm, too? How utterly astounding. Funny, how Ben and Coralee hadn’t shown the least concern. They took for granted that their dutiful daughter-in-law would sign the papers without a murmur. She couldn’t blame them. When she married Emmet, she was well aware everything she owned now automatically belonged to him, but that was the way it was in this world and always had been. She was only a woman, after all, and women had no rights and lived their lives under their husbands’ direction.

  Only now… Dear Lord! Did she really own the hotel?

  “Is something wrong, Rose?” Drucilla had noticed how quiet she’d been.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I…was thinking about Emmet.”

  Drucilla gave a sarcastic sniff. “Of course you were.”

  Her shrewd sister-in-law could always see right through her. Not the rest of the family, though. She shouldn’t tell lies, but if they knew what was going on in her head, they’d be dumbfounded. But this was ridiculous. What was she thinking of? Of course she’d accompany Ben to Mr. Field’s office tomorrow and sign the papers, like she was supposed to. Any thoughts to the contrary, she would firmly, and most definitely, put out of her mind.

  Chapter 4

  After they reached the farm, Rose spent the next few hours helping put provisions away, and then helping Coralee with dinner. Darkness had fallen by the time she put Lucy to bed and decided to go for a stroll. She’d tried to keep so busy she’d have no time to think about Archer Field’s startling revelation, but despite her vow to the contrary, she couldn’t get it off her mind. She headed for the barn, hoping Deke would be there. When she arrived, she found a saddled sorrel quarter horse tied outside, the saddlebags full. Was it Deke’s? She stepped inside the barn and found him sitting on a bale of hay cleaning a pistol. His face lit when he saw her. “Rose! Come sit down. I hoped I’d see you before I left.”

  She sat on a bale of hay across from him, spreading her skirt decorously around her. “That’s your horse out there?”

  “Yes, that’s Sidney.”

  “You’re leaving? I didn’t know.”

  Deke’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. “Seems your father-in-law thinks I’m a criminal.”

  With a stab of disappointment, she asked, “Ben dismissed you? That’s so unfair.”

  “I don’t blame him.” Unconcerned, he continued cleaning the pistol. “We Australians are none too popular around
here. Thieves and murderers, the lot of us.”

  “Not you. I don’t believe it.”

  “Not me.”

  “I could talk to him.”

  “Don’t bother.” He cast a quick gaze at the crutches resting beside him. “Despite what you think, I can take care of myself. Always have, always will.”

  She’d be wise not to pursue the subject. “Before you go, I need to ask—were you my husband’s second at the duel?”

  Deke’s head jerked back. “Who told you that? Blimey, no. He asked me, but I turned him down. What’s more stupid than a duel? I wanted no part of it. In the end, he got another of his employees, Jake Grunion, to be his second. I was there, though. He wanted me to drive him, so I did. Now I wish I hadn’t.”

  Rose’s heart wrenched. Until now, Emmet’s death hadn’t seemed real, but here was someone who’d actually been there, seen him die. Getting the words out was painful. “One thing I’ve been wondering. Was he killed instantly or did he…well, linger?”

  “Instantly. No pain at all.”

  She smiled in relief. “Thank you for that. I wouldn’t have wanted—”

  “I understand. You can rest easy. He didn’t suffer.”

  Thank goodness. Time to get away from such a depressing subject. Besides, she really wanted to talk to him about something else. “You’d never believe what I found out today…”

  In great detail, she described the family’s visit to Mr. Field’s office and how Ben had readily assumed the farm and hotel now belonged to him. “Then, just as we were leaving, Mr. Field mentioned that because of the new California Constitution, I’m the one who owns the farm and hotel, and I’ve got to sign some papers in order to turn them over to Ben.”

  Deke chuckled. “I’d wager that father-in-law of yours must have been surprised. How did he take it?”

  “He wasn’t the least concerned, and neither was Coralee. They expect I’ll do as I’m told. They couldn’t imagine I’d do otherwise.”

  “Would you?”

  “Of course not. For one thing, Emmet’s family has been good to me. For another, I wouldn’t have the nerve. I can’t even imagine what their reaction would be if I told them I wasn’t going to sign the papers.”

  “But you’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?”

  Deke gave her such a piercingly wise gaze that for a moment she had to look away. “Of course I’ve thought of it. You wouldn’t know it to look at me, but I happen to know how to run a hotel.” She told him about the Birchwood Inn in Illinois, and how, when her parents were so ill, she’d practically run it by herself. “Of course, the River Queen is much larger, and there’s more going on.”

  Grinning, he replied, “You could say that, being as the River Queen is one of the biggest and most notorious saloons on the riverfront.” He grew serious. “I think you’d like to give it a go, even though you deny it.”

  “I’d love it, and I know what I’m talking about. At the inn, the work was hard. There were always things going wrong that I had to fix, but the good part was, I was in charge. I made the decisions, and at the end of each day, when the guests were content and I’d made a profit, I had this…this…wonderful feeling of accomplishment.”

  “Well then, seems to me you’d better think twice before you give up what’s rightfully yours. You wouldn’t be the first female owner of a hotel in this town. A woman named Fanny Wentworth owns the Silver Star. She’s quite a gal.”

  Rose briefly wondered what he meant by “quite a gal” but didn’t ask. “I might like the idea of running my own hotel, but I can’t imagine actually standing up to my in-laws and saying, ‘I’m not going to sign.’ My blood runs cold at the thought. I’d never have the courage.”

  “You wouldn’t? It all depends on how you define courage. What do you think it is?”

  She sat thinking a moment. “Courage is a lot of things. For a man, it’s like bravely marching off to war, or running into a burning building to save someone. For me, it’s different. I’m a woman, and women aren’t expected to do heroic things. Women are pretty much expected to do what they’re told, so for me courage means staying in my place, no matter what, and not complaining, no matter how resentful I might feel. That takes courage, too. It’s not easy to be humble and do as I’m told when inside I want way more in this life than I’m supposed to have.”

  “Blimey.” For a time he sat silent, lines of concentration deepening along his brow. “In a way, you’re right. There are different kinds of courage, like for me it’s acting like I don’t care my leg is broke when inside…”

  The look of pain that crossed his face disappeared in an instant, but she hadn’t missed it. “How did you break it?”

  “I’ll tell you sometime. Let’s get back to courage.” He clasped his hands together and leaned forward, his grey eyes intense upon her. “Here’s what I think. Being a woman has nothing to do with it. If the law says you own the hotel and the farm, then so you do, and those in-laws of yours can go take a flying leap. You’re quiet, but you’re strong. Smart, too. I haven’t known you long, but I’d wager whatever you set your mind to, you could do it. The worst of it is, if you don’t speak out and claim what’s rightfully yours, there will come a time when you’ll regret it, only then it will be too late and you’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you’d spoken up when you had the chance.”

  She’d been caught off guard by the intensity in his voice and couldn’t think how to answer. Nobody had ever talked to her like that before. “I must say, you’re honest enough.”

  “That’s my advice. Take it or leave it.” He stood, shoved his pistol in a holster, and took up his crutches. “I’m done here. Come along. You can hold my crutches while I get on my horse.”

  Pleased that he’d actually asked for help, she followed him outside and dutifully held his crutches, noticing how gracefully he swung into the saddle despite the cumbersome cast. She handed him the crutches, which he tied over one of the saddlebags. “Where are you going?”

  A thoughtful smile curved his mouth. “I’ll know when I get there.” With a sudden downward swoop, he kissed her on the cheek. “Mind what I said. You’re made of stronger stuff than you think you are, Rose Peterson. It was nice knowing you.” With two fingers he touched the broad brim of his hat. “Very nice.”

  Rose watched Deke Fleming nudge Sidney and ride away. He sat his horse well, as if he’d spent lots of time in the saddle. Such broad shoulders. A shame about the crutches. Today he’d opened up enough to let her see how much he hated that cast on his leg. She touched the spot on her cheek where he’d kissed her. Was it her imagination, or was it still warm? Ah, well, he was gone now, and she’d never see him again. He’d given her something to think about, though. What he said made a lot of sense, and she would have liked to talk to him more about it. Not that she’d change her mind.

  * * * *

  As Deke rode away, he gave a quick shake of his head, his habit when the world closed in around him and his spirits got down. That’s when he’d think of home. He had only to shut his eyes to be back at Amalie Station, in the heart of the outback, where he’d lived all his life on the most beautiful, most unforgiving land on this earth. His beloved Amalie—a place of silence and beauty where the fish-filled streams ran crystal clear and the water birds hovered above; where the beautiful Flinders Range with its ever-changing colors loomed in the distance; where he could herd a thousand bleating sheep for days and never see another soul, only wallabies, kangaroos, lizards, and the like; where he could sleep on the ground by an open fire, stars twinkling above, and consider himself the luckiest man on earth.

  Rose made him laugh when she asked if he was a convict. He’d honestly told her he wasn’t. What he hadn’t said was that his father was. At the age of fifteen, Jonathan David Fleming was caught committing the heinous crime of stealing two rabbits off a pushcart in the Brixton district of London.
At his trial, he told the judge he’d stolen the rabbits because his family was starving, but his explanation fell on deaf ears. He was convicted, and because the cost of the rabbits was over five shillings, the judge sentenced him to hang. Not until he stood on the gallows, noose around his neck, was he given a choice: either hang or be sent to Australia on a convict ship.

  Only in the last years of his life did Deke’s father talk about those months on a convict ship where he was chained below deck the entire time, beaten and nearly starved. Where nothing lay ahead except the dismal prospect of serving time in one of Australia’s notoriously brutal prisons. But he survived the journey, and when he arrived in New South Wales, he got the luckiest break of his life. He never served a day of his sentence in prison. Labor was so scarce he was immediately sent to work on a sheep station near Adelaide. Soon awarded his freedom, he married Amalie, a girl he’d met while they were imprisoned on the ship, and was granted some land of his own. He named it Amalie Station, and that was where Deke was born and grew up.

  After his father died, Deke took over the small sheep station. Over the years, he expanded, bought adjacent land. His property got so big that he could get on his horse at one border of Amalie Station, ride three days, and still be on his own land.

  The profits rolled in. He started thinking maybe he’d build onto the homestead and get a few luxuries like a pump in the kitchen and rugs on the floor. And maybe he’d start looking for a wife, although on the rare times he got to Willowbrook, the town closest to Amalie, he didn’t see anyone special that he liked, so there wasn’t a hurry about that. Then the Australian market for wool started slumping badly. His profits dropped, along about the time word came about the California Gold Rush. When his friend, Mitch Carter, who owned the nearest station to Amalie, said he’d bought his passage on the next boat to San Francisco, he urged Deke to come along. “The trouble with you, Deke, is you’re sheep-rich but bored,” Mitch told him. “What you need is an adventure.” Deke got to thinking he should go. And why not? He was healthy, fit, and strong. His trusted manager could run Amalie Station just fine without him. His friend Mitch was a sober, deeply religious man whom Deke highly respected. So maybe he’d have a go at it, catch the same ship as Mitch. They would sail to California, make their way to the gold fields, and find enough gold to make their fortunes. Even if they didn’t find those giant-sized nuggets everyone talked about, so what? He’d have had himself a fine adventure. Would that be so bad? What did he have to lose?