Cinnamon and Roses Read Free

confused.
    "When Megan found out I was leaving, she cried for days. She begged me to bring her along, but I wouldn't."
    " Whyever not? I'd love for her to come here and live."
    "She has school, Dad. Besides that, Mother insists the city is a better place for a girl her age. She'll make friends and, with Mother's influence, be right in the heart of society."
    Holbrook's face fell. “True,” he said. “Not that I wouldn't rather she were here."
    "If I'm right, she will be. Probably today or tomorrow.” He stepped outside, waiting for his father to join him. “I'd better telegraph Mother. She'll be worried sick. When does the next stage pull in?"
    Holbrook took out his watch and checked the time. “Any minute now."
    "I won't be surprised if Megan just happens to be on it.” Caleb took a few steps, then turned back to face his father. “If you decide to thrash her, don't be too harsh.” He started away, muttering, “Leave some skin for me."

    Rebecca stood at an open window with a cup of tea in her hands. She watched Caleb Adams walking down the main street of town in her direction. Her heart leapt as she realized he might be coming to pay the rest of her bill. She flushed, taking back every mean, nasty name she had called him only minutes earlier.
    And then, as she saw him stop, speak to the telegraph operator, and turn to walk back across town, she called him all the names again—adding some new ones and even inventing a few. She stomped her foot, sloshing tea over the rim of the cup and burning her stomach through the material of her dress.
    "Now look what you've done, Caleb Adams,” she said, brushing at the hot stain. She looked up and saw the afternoon stage barreling into town, stirring up a great cloud of dust. “I hope that thing runs you over. You deserve it."

    The
Kansas
sun beat down on the roof of the Concord coach, baking its tired, dusty passengers. Between the heat and the ruts the stage kept hitting, Megan Adams didn't think she had a chance in Hades of making it to Leavenworth alive. Trying to keep her hair from matting to her sweat-dampened forehead, she ran her fingertips through the dark strands. She would surprise her father and brother, all right—when they were forced to drag her lifeless body out of the stagecoach.
    Megan shifted slightly on the hard seat, tugging at the front of her blouse to pull the silk away from her sticky skin. She forced herself to smile at the couple in the seat across from her. They had been staring at her, not saying a word, since they all boarded the stage together. It was like traveling with two corpses.
    If she didn't get out of this oven soon, Megan knew she would go mad. Her body felt on fire, every layer of her expensive clothing like another log thrown on to build the blaze. Her mother had always filled her closets with dresses, skirts, and blouses made of the finest materials, but she would rather wear a flour sack for a trip halfway across the country. She smiled secretly, reveling in the knowledge that she had thrown her frilly, annoying hat from the train as soon as they'd pulled away from the depot.
    "Leavenworth!” the driver yelled. “ Comin ’ up on Leavenworth, folks!"
    Finally, Megan thought, mentally preparing herself for coming face-to-face with her father and brother. It wasn't her father she was worried about so much as Caleb. Papa would be too glad that she was safe to scold her, but Caleb would ream her up one side and down the other—and then threaten to send her home.
    Well, she wouldn't go. She just wouldn't. She might be only sixteen years old, but she was certainly mature enough to know she didn't want to live in New York City with Mother any longer. Megan was tired of being treated like her mother's favorite china doll, dressed up and dragged to society parties.
    Megan's fingers clenched into a fist around the drawstring of her silken purse. This was all Mother's own fault. If she had been faithful to Papa, Megan and Caleb and their