From My Novel, "Ruby's Captive, - Rose's Chance Meeting With Ruby's In Obenland's Mercantile Store [Part 2] ...

       "Well, I never!  The nerve of him!  Maybe we should find a decent place to shop, Rose!  But, there are so few stores to choose from here.  Oh, I wish we were back East, where life is civilized!"

      Mother had grasped my upper arm and was dragging me outside.  She stepped into the carriage that we had waiting.  I followed her.

       "Let's go, Frederick!", she called to our driver.  "And, try not to hit every hole in the road.  I've already had enough of a shake up this morning to kill me!"  She  was  silent  a  few  minutes.   Then she  turned  to  me, her eyes  bright, her smile wide.  "Rose, I was starting to talk about things back East.  That fine Bradford Talbot...  You remember him.  Well, his wife died about two years ago and NOW, HE"S LOOKING FOR ANOTHER!  He's originally from Boston too, like we are.  He wrote me asking about you.  What luck that he's still interested!  He's such a good catch I would think that he'd have found someone by now...  But, --- NO!   OH, ROSE, ROSE!...  Isn't that SO WONDERFUL!"

      "Yes, wonderful, Mother," I replied, dully.

       She chirped on.  "He's very well set up, secure, the president of his bank!  You'd never have to worry about money and he'd likely buy you anything you want!  And, such a darling family he has, three adorable girls and four boys.  Why, you'd...  Well, perhaps..."

      She pitched her voice low.  "He might not even want to, --- to do IT so often since he already has a family.  Wouldn't that be a plus, Rose!"

      I turned to her.  "Yes, in the case of Bradford Talbot that WOULD MOST CERTAINLY BE A VERY BIG PLUS, MOTHER!"

      "Keep your voice down, Rose!"  She tapped my knee with her fan.  "Our driver is listening, I'm sure!"

      I sighed.  "He probably isn't, Mother."

      "Servants love to snoop at the conversations of their betters!  But, how would you know?  Honestly, Rose, you are so unaware of what is important!  Don't ever forget you are a person of quality!"

      "Yes, Mother, I know.   But, Bradford Talbot is more than twice my age.  He's pudgy and he must be seven inches shorter than me."  I laughed.  "Can you imagine me bending down to kiss him?  We'd look ridiculous together!  I absolutely refuse to marry him!"

     "Well, it's not Bradford's fault that he's so short.  Nor is it yours that you 're so tall!  Oh, why couldn't you have my height rather than your father's?  It's almost unlady-like the way you are what, five feet nine?  And, well, an hour glass figure is the ideal woman's shape, but you over do it, Rose!   Your hips and your bosom are,---are..."

      "Are what, Mother?"  I was getting very tired of this conversation.

       "Way too much!  Men look at your chest, Rose!  I have told you and told you to bind yourself.  I even gave you those strips of cloth that I hemmed especially for you."

      "No, no,  Mother!   Those binding strips are pieces of Father's old long johns.  I am definitely not wearing them!  And, I'm not five feet, nine inches.  I'm five, eleven."

      She gasped. "That tall, Rose!  Well, it will be amazing if we can find ANY suitors for you!"  But, she smiled again.  "Many men are going to be shorter than you.  You will just have to put up with it!  It wouldn't hurt if you could slouch a little too, to make your height less noticeable."

      My thoughts were drifting.  Mother's voice was like an annoying mosquito.  Ruby Mendez was way over six feet tall and his shoulders moved rhythmically as he walked, in line with his narrow hips...

      Mother's voice came buzzing back.  "If you don't want Bradford, there's Hiram Ralston.  He's a young man, plus his ranch is almost as large as ours.   He would be a clever match for you, Rose, and he's always been interested.  Hiram is almost as tall as you are too!"

      "Yes, I know, I KNOW, Mother.  I think he's only about an inch shorter."

     "Rose, your father and I have been talking most seriously about this.  You're twenty-one.  A girl has to catch a man before her looks fade.  This evil climate sucks all the moisture out of a woman's complexion.  Why, we order Madame Pomphrey's Lady's Cream by the case from London!  But, thank God, for it!"  Her expression grew very stern.  "I hope you're using it too!"

     "Yes, I am, Mother."

      She nodded.  "Good, good."  She smiled, seeming delighted.  "Well, I'll tell your father you have decided to accept Hiram Ralston.   He'll be so pleased!  And, Rose, Godey's Ladies Book and my catalogs from London and from Paris have such darling wedding dresses; then there's your trousseau...  We've been adding to it for years, since you have been so fussy about your choice of a husband, until now.  But, I'm sure there are a few lovely, newly stylish things we could still buy."  She patted my knee.

      I sighed again.  I could see my life stretched before me, the carefully structured years and years, boring,--- so boring.

      "Rose, Rose!  I also want to discuss with you..."   My mother's strident voice broke into my musings.

      I took a lace handkerchief from my velvet purse, wiping it across my forehead.  The day was already hot.  My stays itched.  I hitched the heavy skirt of my dress up a little to allow some air underneath.  My mother angrily pulled my skirts down.  "Rose, to show your ankles like that!"  She looked around quickly to see if anyone had seen six inches of my sparking white high-topped shoes.  "Oh, thank God!  I don't think anyone saw!  Really, Rose,---your reputation!"

      "...Is immaculate, Mother," I finished for her.

      "No thanks to you!  I have told and told your father that I believe you harbor strange and wild ideas in your mind, ideas entirely unsuited to a decent young lady!  Why, didn't I catch you jumping on the back of a horse only last week?"

     I frowned at her.  "What's wrong with that, Mother?"

     She sat up straighter, a dew of perspiration starting on her upper lip.  "A lady must always be assisted in the mounting of a horse."

      "There wasn't anybody around to assist me.  I'm way tall enough to get into a saddle myself.  I just grabbed some mane and jumped.  It was easy."

     She turned an angry face toward me.  "You jumped?  A lady does not jump,---not ever!  Shame on you!  And, I don't wish to be reminded of your shocking height again, Rose!  Plus, there are other things about your actions!"

      "Like what, Mother?"

      "You must not look at men so brashly.  They will get ideas!"

      "Ideas..."

      "Yes, ideas, Rose!  Your expression must be much more demure, cast your eyes down.  You know how to do it."

     "No, I don't, Mother.  It's unnatural for me."  I rubbed my temples where a headache was beginning to form.

     "Well, make it natural for you!  I keep telling you that girls who don't act properly encourage men to take liberties."

     "Liberties...  You mean a man might try kiss me, or might even try to ravish me, Mother?"

     "Keep your voice down , Rose!   You shouldn't even be talking about such wanton behavior!  But, you are so willful, Rose!  If only you were more like Annabelle Marlowe."

     "If only I were more like that washed out, spiritless, chipmunk-faced little snit.  I want to pop her fat little cheeks every time I see her."

     "Rose, how unkind!  A lady is always known by her charity toward ALL!"

      "Maybe I'm not a lady."

      "You are...  YOU ARE!  Oh, how I've tried so HARD, TRIED AND TRIED AND TRIED WITH YOU!"

     "Mother, for God's sake, be quiet."

      I was startled by a slap across my face.  "Mind your mouth, Rose!"

     There were two spots of red on my mother's delicate cheekbones.  "I will tell your father about your impudence!  It is good that you will be married soon.  Maybe Hiram Ralston will teach you how to act, give you much needed discipline!"

     "You mean, you think Hiram should beat some sense into me.  If he tries it I'll flatten him like a flapjack."

      "Rose!"  Mother slapped her fan on my thigh hard.  She leaned forward to speak to the driver.  "Frederick, faster!  We need to get home sometime today!"

      Mother began moving her feet around the floor of the carriage, pushing our skirts back, a grimace of annoyance on her face.  "I see my parasol, but not yours and it was so lovely too, all that pearl beading and Belgian lace!  Did you leave it in Obenland's store?"

      "Perhaps, I did, Mother."

     "We'll have to get you another one.  We can't have your beautiful skin getting freckled!"

     "Yes, Mother."

     She nodded, her small chin lifted.  "We can order you a parasol from Worth's in Paris.  True, it will take a while to get here.  In the meantime, you can use one of mine."

      She patted my knee.  "Don't worry, Rose.  We won't let this cruel Western sun eat you up.  What terrible things it can do to a woman's skin.  Just look at the squaws we sometimes see, as young as you and their faces are as tan as old saddles!  They're so ugly!"

     "I don't think so, Mother.  I really don't.  I've noticed how proud they look.  A lot of them are very attractive and almost as tall as me too."

     "They're totally unfeminine.  They look, uh, --- they're almost, --- muscular!"

     "That comes from hard work, Mother."

     She gasped.  "Why, --- why, Rose, it sounds like you admire, --- ADMIRE INDIANS!"

     "I do.  And, yes, I definitely admire the Apache.  They're an amazing people."

     "You truly admire them?  Why, they have ways that are so strange that they are practically inhuman!"

     "They ARE human beings, Mother."

     "You are so naive, Rose.  But, you know about them?  However would you?"

     "I've asked around."

     "Around..."

     "Yes, Mother!  I'm not as isolated as you think on our ranch, as isolated as I think you'd like me to be!  And, I don't believe that women should be frail, useless little flowers!  Father's money and influence and the men he hires shield us, protects us against almost anything, but most frontier women are tough; they have to be or they can't make it here, --- out West!  Yes, they're tough, like Indian women, like the Apache women!"

     "Of course, of course!  What you say is true aabout your father's power!  And, thank the Lord that FOR IT!  Yes, - I thank the Lord EVERY Sunday when I go to church for the strength to live in this bitter and hostile land!  As for those disgusting Apache squaws and, - YES, coarse frontier women, naturally they need to be tough!  They work like slaves, their beauty destroyed before they're hardly out of their teens!  Would you want that for yourself, Rose?  A woman's beauty is her ONLY weapon!"

     "Not so, Mother.  I can shoot as well as any man."

     "And, I was VERY, VERY against your father teaching you that, like you were A BOY CHILD  Rifleship is so unwomanly!"

     I laughed.  "Mother, did you just call shooting "RIFLESHIP"?  I couldn't stop laughing and laughing.

     "Rose, shush!...  Really!  How dare you mock me!"  She paused a moment, gazing at me as if I was a big, threatening turkey buzzard.  Then, she continued.  "Did you know, Rose...  SO DISGRACEFUL, --- that Indian braves buy a woman like she was a horse or a cow?"

    "Yes, Mother.  Yes, I knew that.  It's somewhat like European parents used to arrange marriages for their children..."

     She huffed.  "Rose, Rose!...  You are...  You are way too!..."  She looked at me. rather desperately.

    I finished for her.  "I'm way too independent, thinking and questioning, way too physically strong, and, --- I'm too sensual, too.  I am I right, Mother?"

    "Rose, I refuse to discuss this further!  YOU WILL BE MARRIED, VERY SOON, AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!  YOU WILL BE HIRAM RALSTON'S WIFE. AND SETTLE DOWN TO A PROPER LIFE!  I will speak to your father TONIGHT!  Yes, marriage will settle you down, my fine young lady!  You need it desperately, before you so aggressive that you, - you disgrace our family!"

    "Before I disgrace the family?"

     "At the risk of sounding coarse, I will say that you are like a bitch in heat!  Men can almost smell it on you, - even our ranch hands look at you funny!"


     "Funny..."

     "Yes, funny, - like they want to, - to push you up against one of back walls of our barns and kiss you!"

     I grinned, and kicked my feet a bit.  "Kiss me!...  Oh, my!  Really?...  There's those evil liberties again!"

     Mother turned pale and her spine stiffened.  Her usually composed and smooth face looked as scrunched as an old apple.  She was very angry and trembling slightly.  She didn't say any more.  And, all during the long drive home pictures of Ruby Mendez danced in my brain: Ruby galloping on his mustang horse, shooting a rifle, the butt of it pulled hard against his powerful shoulder.  And, again, with a bow and arrows, the bowstring against his broad cheekbone as he sighted down it's shaft.  His skin was shining, his hair flying behind him, gleaming in the sun.  He rode expertly, tearing across the sandy ground, his muscular thighs gripping the horse's heaving sides, his beautiful teeth in an animal like snarl.  Fresh from these pursuits, he leaned over me...  I jerked awake; we were home.  My mother had already alighted from the carriage.  I blinked, disoriented.

     She rapped me on the knee with her parasol.  "Get down, Rose.  Today's adventures have been far too much for you, talking out of your head like you were!  You will have time for a nap before dinner.  Make sure you take it, and put some cool cloths on your forehead when you do!  Do you hear me?"  She didn't wait for my answer.  She lifted her chin in a very haughty manner and bustled toward the house.