Texas Rose
Lighting flashed, and thunder boomed. And across the darkened plain rode a lone cowboy, wondering how his life could have gone so wrong. Six months before he had been on a stage east with a good job lined up and everything seemed to be going in the right direction finally. Now he broke, and riding threw the freezing rain looking for work in south Texas.
Adam Cartwright tried to put those thoughts out of his mind. He did not have time to waste on trying to change the past. What he needed was a dry warm place to hole up until it stopped raining.
"Damned Texas weather." He muttered dejectedly. Then he saw the light. At first he thought it might be a campfire but at he came closer he realized it was a small house, barely more than a cabin. Near by were a barn and the brunt out remains of another house.
Adam staked out the house for a good ten minuets before he made his approach. He might be freezing but he had enemies out there looking for him so it never hurt to be careful. He could not be sure but he only saw one person in the house.
He tied his horse in front of the house and stepped on the front porch. Adam stood there a moment and tried to look like he belonged in this country. The war had only ended a year ago and folks in this country were not inclined to be nice to anyone they deemed a "damn Yankee." In fact they were likely to shoot.
Finally, he knocked on the door. There was a moment of shuffling, the door flung open and Adam found himself staring down the double barrels of a sawed off shotgun.
"Laurent, Ah dun tol' you if ya came back 'ere Ah's gonna kill you. Ya ain't takin' mah ranch an' ya sure as hell ain't touchin' mah son." Bellowed the angry woman who wielded the weapon.
"Ma'am" Adam said with politeness born of fear, "I don't know who you think I am. I was just riding by and I was hoping if I could sleep in your barn 'til the rain stopped."
The woman lowered her gun and gapped. It was the first time Adam had a good look at the woman. She looked familiar. Her dark brown almost black hair was in a long braid down her back, Her dark amber eyes glittered in the firelight, and a beautiful patchwork quilt was draped over her skinny shoulders. How did he know her?
Then she whispered, "Holy, sweet Saint Anthony." And Adam knew. Only one woman that Adam had ever known used that phrase when surprised.
"Jace?" Jacinth Shimek, or Jace was a woman who he had been engaged to.
Jace quickly regained her composure and ushered Adam in side. She took a cast iron pot from the fire and poured him a cup of coffee with out him even asking. Even so Adam took it gratefully.
"It's been a long time." Adam said after awhile as he could think of nothing to say.
"Five damn years, Adam" Jace said with a touch of bitterness in her voice.
They sat in silence, then Adam rose and said, "I guess I'll go out to the barn now."
"Adam," Jace said, her voice a touch softer, "Ah couldn' make ya sleep in the barn, after wha' went through together, sides the barns drafty. Trust me Ah know."
Adam kept standing, "Still I should go put my horse up."
"Ah'll do it. You jus' sit down an' stay warm," said Jace pulling on her slicker and boots, and then leaving before Adam could stop her.
Adam sat back down. That woman had not changed at all. Still, doing what needed to be done and just as stubborn as ever. He looked around the room. As he'd assessed earlier, the house was not much. A ladder led to an upper room and there were two doors which lead to what Adam assumed were bedrooms.
It was through one of these doors that Adam heard a child's voice call, "Mommie!"
Adam remembered Jace say, "ya sure as hell ain't touchin' mah son." And that must be the boy.
Again Adam heard the cry, but this time the child stood at the doorway to the bedroom, wrapped in a patchwork quilt similar to the one worn by Jace. He was a little boy, maybe four years old with a mass of curly dark hair and tears running down his face.
The boy asked in a terrified voice, "W…where'th mah mommie?"
Adam looked at the petrified boy benevolently and said in a soothing voice, "She just went out for a little bit, son."
"B' i'th rainin'." The child said, on the verge of tears.
"She'll be alright." Adam reassured. Then he beckoned the boy to him, "Come here let's dry those tears."
The little boy walked forward and looked up at Adam with big, wet hazel eyes and asked, querulously, "Who're you?"
Adam smiled, "My name is Adam. What's your name?"
The boy said, "Ahm Jathon." Then he added, lisping the whole while, "Ah hope Mommie cometh back thoon. Ah had a bad dream and couldn' go back t' thleep."
"Your mother will be back in a little bit, Jason" Adam said as he finished wiping Jason's face. Adam picked him up and sat Jason on his lap. "now what was this dream about?"
"Ah dreamed 'bout thothe bad men who tried t' hurt Mommie."
Lighting flashed and the door flung open. Jace ran in shaking off her rain slicker and oversized boots. "Damn i's col' out there-" she saw her son sitting on Adam's lap. "Hey, sweet heart. What're you doin' up?"
Jason jumped off Adam's lap and ran to his mother. Crying once again, he stammered, "Ah had a Bad Dream."
Jack picked him up neatly, "Another one, Jason. That's the second this week." She carried him to an old rocking chair. "Now, which one was it this time?"
"The one wid the the bad men. They hurt you an' then an' then the was chathin' me an' an' the house bruned down." Crying he ended, "It wath thcary."
"Ahm sure it was, baby, but i's alrigh' now. Mommie's here." Jace said, rocking him backand forth gently.
Jason, now soothed by his mother's gentle presence, asked sleepily, "Mommie when'th PawPaw comin'home."
"Your PawPaw won't be back fer another week yet." Jace said, "Now it's time to go to sleep. Which song do ya want, baby?"
The sleepy little boy thought a moment then said, "Thing the Rothie thong."
Jace laughed, "the Yellow Rose of Texas it is, Mi Amour." And then she began to sing in a soothing voice,
" She's the sweetest little rose bud that Texas ever knew
Her eyes are bright as diamonds they sparkle like the dew
You may about talk about your Clementine and sing of Rosalee
But the yellow rose of Texas is the only girl for me…"
Adam had said nothing trough the whole exchange because A) Jason was not his son, B) he was tired, and C) He remember keenly how Jace hated the intuitive to help. She called it "stickin' yer nose where it don't belong" and it made her steam out the ears (Fugitively speaking of course).
Adam wondered absently who Jason's father was. Maybe he was this PawPaw they both made reference to. Was she even married? Who ever he was, he must have been something to catch Jace.
Jace's singing stopped abruptly. "He's asleep." She whispered.
"That's good." Adam whispered back, "Jace, I have so many questions."
"We'll talk after Ah put Jason t' bed." Jace said, hefting her son and disappearing into the bedroom.
When she came out, Adam commented, "He seems like a smart boy."
"Jus' like his father." Jace said with an odd smile.
"Is he a good man?" Adam asked.
"He certainly thinks he is." Jace said, her smile vanishing and an odd expression replacing it. Adam's face fell.
Adam swallowed hard, "So, your husband will be back in a week, then."
Jace looked hard into Adam eyes and to Adam's surprise her strange look disappeared and she burst out laughing, "You- You think" She laughed harder. "Adam, PawPaw is what Jason calls his Granpa, ya know mah Pa."
Now, Adam was confused. "So your not married."
"No, Adam, Ahm not married." Jace said that strange look returning.
"Then…" Adam stumbled a moment for word. Damn that woman, he thought, she always does this to me. Finally he found words again, "Then who is Jason's father?"
Sadness immediately followed by hardness filled Jace's eyes. "Adam, Ah wanted t' tell ya fer so long."
Adam's eyes grew large, "Wait are you saying…"
"Adam Jason's yer son."
Realization hit Adam like a run away train with one hundred cars each carrying a ton of bricks each. "My son?"
Tell me what ya'll think. I just finished typing it so there might be some mistakes. The story goes along with another fic I was writing but I lost the disc it was on. All reviews will be referred to my wooden guard duck Wade so please be nice. Oh! And remember Wolfie loves you.