The Native Star - By M. K. Hobson Page 0,91

of whiskey and the price of a flophouse?”

Rose stared at him, her mouth open in astonishment. But Stanton pressed on, his voice flat and awful.

“Or maybe you’re just using the word ‘they’ as so many pea-brained idiots use it, as a cowardly rhetorical device, an excuse to say the things you really believe without giving anyone the chance to judge you for the narrow-minded, stupid creature you are.”

Rose’s lip trembled for a moment. Then she snatched up her carpetbag and ran out of the car. Emily stared at Stanton.

“What has gotten into you?” she asked. “That was awful. How could you—”

“That girl is an albatross.” Stanton pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. “Saying those things to you, after everything that’s happened—”

“She didn’t have any idea what she was saying,” Emily said. “And if you were trying to protect me, at least you could have picked on someone your own size.”

Rising abruptly, Emily went out in the direction Rose had gone. She found Rose sitting in the vestibule between cars, collapsed in a tearful heap. She was sobbing, clutching the carpetbag to her chest.

“Miss Rose?” Emily said softly.

“I’m sorry I bothered you.” Rose dashed drops from her eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh, him.” Emily cast a scornful glance back toward the car where Stanton was. “He’s a meaner varmint than Sheriff Black, the Skull Mountain Kid, and the Scabby Badger all rolled up into one.”

Rose giggled, sniffling, at what was certainly quite a ridiculous combination.

“You’re awful nice, Mr. Elmer,” Rose said. “I have a brother like you. He’s nice, too. Whenever anyone’s mean to me, he knocks ’em down.”

Emily sat down next to Rose, suddenly wishing that she were Rose’s brother. At that moment, she wouldn’t mind a life spent taking care of a girl like Rose. A life spent protecting her from all the terrible things in the world. More than anything, she envied Rose’s wide-eyed innocence, the cozy narrowness of her existence. She had no idea how vast the world could be, how many horrors and mysteries lurked in its dark places. Emily felt she had discovered far too much—far more than she’d ever wanted to, just as Lawa had promised.

Rose caught the faraway look in Emily’s eyes, and something sly crept across her face. She leaned closer to Emily, whispered words in her ear.

“You’re outlaws, aren’t you?”

Emily pulled back a little, looked at her warily.

“What?”

“I know you’re a woman,” Rose said. “I knew it from the first time I saw you. That’s why I was interested in you two. I thought … oh, never mind what I thought. I’m just a pea-brained idiot.”

“No, you’re not. Tell me what you thought.”

Rose looked at her, her eyes sparkling with sudden excitement.

“I tried to guess what your story was,” Rose said. “I do that sometimes. I just look at people and try to figure out their lives.”

Rose hitched herself closer.

“Here’s what I guessed. You can’t have been outlaws long, because you sure don’t do it very well. Maybe you robbed a bank or something. But you’re madly in love, and you’re on the run from the law. Is that it? You can tell me. I promise I’ll keep the secret.”

“That’s not it.” Emily felt herself blushing, but she didn’t quite know why. “But that would make a good story, wouldn’t it?”

“Things work out in stories,” Rose said. “If this were a story, I wouldn’t be going to Aunt Kindy’s, I’d be going someplace … exciting.” Her lip trembled. “I hate Aunt Kindy. All those things I told you about her weren’t true. She’s mean to me and she smells. I don’t know what Mr. Smith called her, but I’m sure it meant that she’s unpleasant. And she is. She’s a spiteful woman who wants me around just so she can smoke cigarillos and drink gin on the sly.”

Emily tsked sadly and put her arm around Rose.

“Maybe it won’t be that bad,” she said, aware of how useless the words were.

“Yes, it will be,” Rose said. She was trying to hold back her tears, but they kept trickling down her cheeks. “She just wants me for a slave. And I have to go. What else can I do?”

“I’m sorry, Rose,” Emily said softly. “It’ll be all right. I’m sure it will.”

Rose leaned against her, resting her head on Emily’s shoulder, and Emily held her companionably. From behind them came the sound of a cleared throat. It was Stanton, looking down at them disapprovingly.

“Elmer,” he said.

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