Rose Thirteen: Preparations

By Christopher Charles

Rose delayed stepping on the gangplank for fear she might tip it slightly. She thought about waiting for the Colonel and delayed a little longer.

She heard someone coming down the stairs in a hurry and decided she would go on across to be out of his way. The footsteps picked up speed and came up fast behind her. She felt pressure on her si

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kenneth Colerick
• Release date: Dec 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9781950901456

Book preview

Copyright 2/21/09

11527513771

Rose Chronicles

Rose One   Witches Brew

Rose Two   Indian Curse

Rose Three   The Flood

Rose Four   The Island

Rose Five   The Spook

Rose Six   Passage

Rose Seven   Gambler

Rose Eight   St Louis

Rose Nine   River Race

Rose Ten   Going Home

Rose Eleven   School Experiment.

Rose Twelve  Slave Boat

Rose Thirteen  Preparation

Rose Fourteen  The Trail

Rose Fifteen  Indian Boy

Rose Sixteen- Rose, The Indian

13 Preparations

By Christopher Charles

Prologue

Mr. Clemens wants to move his slaves out west to give them a new start. He needs Mr. Donavan and manipulates people at Rose’s Birthday party until he has everyone going west. Rose realizes she has feeling for Sergeant Meade.

1 Adjustments

Rose has not done well since coming home from St Louis two weeks ago. Doctor Richardson thought it might be consumption, but she knew it was only the smoke from the fire. Her throat and lungs were better now that she was home and resting.

She liked being waited on by her mother. Mary Beth had been over every day listening to her adventures, but today was her birthday. Her mother had forced her out of bed and given her a bath. It was long overdue her mother had said. Now she was being forced to clean her room.

Are you about done? Mrs. Donovan yelled up the stairs while she placed the hot iron through Rose’s Sunday best dress.

Rose had changed the bedding and swept most of the dirt under her bed. Almost! She shouted back. She wished she was back at the boarding school. They did not make her clean her room there.

I better not find any dirt under that bed! Mrs. Donovan shouted back up.

I’ll check it, Rose yelled back.

You better do more than check it!

Rose reached under the bed and began pulling the dirt bunnies out. She wondered if her mother was spying on her. It gave her the shivers thinking about it. How much more did her mother know?

Pulling everything into the dust pan, she started to throw the contents out the window, when her mother yelled back. You better not be getting my laundry dirty, Young Lady, or you’ll be doing the scrubbing next.

Easing the dust pan back, she looked out to see the wash blowing in the breeze below. No mother, you should know me better than that. Suddenly the dirt flew out of the pan. The wind had caught it. Most of it had blown over to her father taking his bath in the metal tub below. She heard a loud sneeze.

Bringing the empty pan inside, she quickly filled it with more dirt from beneath her bed. Coming down the stairs, she started to go into the kitchen when her mother yelled from the other room.

You be taking that out the front door. Your Pa is taking his bath out back.

Yes, Mother, Rose said going past her mother ironing her dress. Are we all going somewhere today?

It’s just time you were getting up and about. No sense in leaving everything dirty in the process.

Why are you ironing my dress?

I thought we would all take an outing.

I don’t need my dress ironed for that, Rose said throwing the dirt outside. The wind caught it and sent part of it back inside.

Her mother took the dress off the ironing board and handed it to her, yelling, Okay, you can have it half ironed. Wiping a piece of dirt from her eye, she quickly closed the door to stop the wind. She walked towards the stairs, wiped away a tear forming, and said, I’ll be finishing your room while you get dressed. I’ll not be embarrassed by it.

Rose did not understand who would be coming, but she could see her mother was upset. She decided to finish ironing her own dress. Picking up another hot iron, she began working the pleats. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to iron her own clothes. Usually she did, but her mother has been emotionally unstable since she came home. She would cry over things for no reason.

She worked the iron fast before it cooled down. She heard her father come out of his tub. He was dressing in the kitchen.

I don’t know why we’re getting all cleaned up, Mr. Donovan said. You would think someone died or something.

Just you get dressed! Mrs. Donovan yelled from upstairs. You’re going to be making us late!

Rose could hear things being moved around above. She ignored her father coming into the room pulling his suspenders over his shoulders.

Would of been faster if a hand full of dirt hadn’t hit me in the eye, Mr. Donovan said. Seems the wind’s a bit full these days. I don’t guess you would know anything about that?

No Papa, but I think you’re right, the wind is a bit full.

Mr. Donovan pulled his boots on and adjusted his shirt. You better be changing your dress, Young Lady, before she comes back down. We don’t need her more upset.

Yes Papa.

I threw some water on those sheets out back. Seems the wind weren’t too nice to them either.

Thanks, Papa.

I need to be getting the wagon hitched up, Mr. Donovan said, and walked into the kitchen. He held back a smile as he turned the tub over out back.

Rose was slipping her dress on when her mother came down the stairs.

Where’s your Pa?

He’s hitching up the wagon, Rose said bringing the buttons together. Where are we going?

For an outing! I already told you that.

Why are we getting all dressed up?

Cause, we might meet someone. We don’t always have to look our worst. Now, enough of these questions! Let’s get to your hair!

Rose started to ask another question when she felt the brush take her hair. Her mother pulled hard bringing a tear to her eye. I can do my own hair, Mama, Rose said reaching back for the brush.

No, I will do it! You’ll never get all the tangles out of this mess. She pulled the brush the length of Rose’s hair taking more hair with it.

That hurts, Mama!

Sorry, dear, Mrs. Donovan said, and eased up on the next stroke. I haven’t been myself lately. I don’t know if I can take these adventures of yours. We almost lost you again. Only the grace of God brought you back to us.

Sorry, Mama, maybe I should stay home the rest of my life.

It wouldn’t help! It’s you, child. It follows you. The house would burn down, or something else horrible would happen here.

Maybe I should go live by myself somewhere, then I couldn’t hurt anyone.

It isn’t you doing the hurting. It’s more you just being there when things happen. God seems to use you more than others. Only it has been hard on the rest of us who have to stand by and watch.

Maybe God is all through using me, Mama.

I pray every night that you are right, dear, but you are not even full grown yet.

I’m thirteen, Mama, I hear in some countries girls get married at thirteen.

Not in this one, but in your case, it might be a good idea, Mrs. Donovan said, and smiled. It would settle you down.

Who should I marry, Mama?

There’s plenty of boys at school.

They’re all too young.

Mrs. Donovan thought a moment, and then she said, We’ll let God choose a husband for you when you are older, dear.

She was visualizing Sergeant Meade. She didn’t