A Bride For The Asking -- (on hold)

Chapter 5--Ashes to Ashes

"Rose?" cried Ben Johnson, when he turned from loading the last of the things from Mary’s cabin, and realized she was making a makeshift torch. "What are you doing, girl?"

"I’m going to burn this place to the ground. I’m burning everything, starting with Mon Repose itself, " Rose answered icily, unmindful of the tears that streaked her face.

"But, Rose, that’s against the law."

"Do you think I care, Ben Johnson?"

"You can’t do that Rose. This place doesn’t belong to you or your aunt anymore," Ben pleaded to no avail. He saw that immediately and sighed.

Silas Farthingham represented everything evil in that girl’s life. He’d went too far buying Mon Repose out from under Rose and her aunt. He was the meanest carpetbagger ever to darken the town of Piney Creek. He would leave no stone unturned in trying to find Rose and bring her to justice. Wisely, though, Ben Johnson kept his thoughts to himself.

"I’ll be dead and in hell before I let Silas Farthingham have so much as a scrap of lumber my daddy worked so hard for, and laid down his life defending." Rose swiped futilely at the tears streaming out of her eyes.

Rose looked at Ben and his son, Jamie. "I don’t want you involved in this, Ben Johnson. "You’ve got Bonnie, and Jamie here to look out for." Rose turned to give Jamie a watery smile.

"This is my doings. You and your family still have to live here in Piney Creek. Aunt Mary and I will be long gone."

Mon Repose wavered in her vision as she looked away from Ben, unable to meet his eye. Instead, she looked down the hill, towards Mon Repose. Fresh tears spilled out of her eyes as she gazed on what little was left of the proud home she was once the heiress of.

She looked down at the hulking building, at what was left of Mon Repose after Sherman’s soldiers had bivouacked there for almost a week. It had sat there untended ever since the war. There hadn’t been even enough money for food, let alone taxes on the place, or repairs.

It stared back at Rose with dark, sightless eyes. Not a window left had been left in the place. The fluted columns holding up the once proud portico was pockmarked travesties of their former selves. The soldiers had used them all for target practice. She turned back towards the cabin, unable to look down on the haunting reminder of an innocent childhood gone forever.

It was all gone, Rose thought bitterly. But, the logical part of herself knew the structure was still basically sound. It could be restored with time and money she did not have. And, Silas Farthingham, of all people, would not be the one to restore it, no matter how much money he had. He would not walk it’s restored hallways. No innocent girls would be cornered and pawed by his filthy hands in her home. It was not happening. Not while there was breath in her body.

"We don’t mind helping, Rose. I just wanted you to know where you stood legally, That’s all."

"Still in all. I’d rather do this alone, if you don’t mind, Ben. It’s personal."

"I can understand how you feel, Rose. But, please let us help. I don’t want to leave you here alone this way."

"No Ben. Take the wagon on back to town, please. All Aunt Mary and I are taking are our clothes and that box of keepsakes there behind the seat. If you could take that to the hotel, I’d be much obliged. Everything else is for you and Bonnie. The shipping would be more than it’s worth for us. I’m sure there’s plenty there that you and Bonnie can use. You’ve been a good friend, Ben Johnson. Go now. I’ll see you in town."

"All right, Rose. If that’s the way you feel. I guess you’ll be wanting to say goodbye to your folks, before you go?"

Rose thought of the small cemetery on the other side of the hill, hung her head and nodded, too heart sore to speak. "That too, Ben, that too."