By Way of the Rose by Cynthia Ward Weil Read Free Book Online Page B

Tanner. I'm so glad to see you!” Agnes smiled. “Please come in and have some tea with me. It gets so lonely around here.”
    “Don't mind if I do. I would enjoy the visit.” She stepped through the small door of the cabin.
    “I've been so anxious to show you the new curtains. I finished them just last week.”
    “Oh, that fabric you picked out did make some lovely curtains, didn't it?” Mrs. Tanner walked over to the window to examine the work. ‘Why, this stitching is better than my own and I've sewn for years.”
    “I don't know about the stitching, but they turned out just beautiful thanks to the pattern you lent me. I'm so proud of them. Paul says I go on over these curtains more than I do over my wedding ring.” She laughed. “I suppose it's because they're the first things I've ever made for my own place. I'm starting to feel like a real homemaker.”
    “Well, I'm glad you liked the pattern. You are a right nice home maker. Your place is sparkling clean.” She sat down as Agnes poured them each a cup of tea. “Why don't you come to town with me. It'd do you good to get out for a while.”
    “I don't know. I've not been feeling all that well the past few days. I get tired so easy. I hate to say it, but I think I might be pregnant.”
    “Why would you hate that?”
    “Because I want to go home this spring and I can't if I'm pregnant.”
    “Maybe your folks can come out here.” Then with a hearty laugh she said, “One thing's for sure, we're both going to have to get busy sewing if you're pregnant.”
    “Oh yes, indeed,” Agnes agreed. “Oh, let me give you back your pattern before I forget.” As Agnes stood she heard the sound of horses approaching the cabin. Her heart pounded, yet she tried to stay calm. “I— I wonder who that could be.” She walked to the window and looked out. The color drained from her face as she turned toward Mrs. Tanner.
    “Oh my God!”
    “It's Indians, isn't it?” Mrs. Tanner leapt from her seat.
    “Yes, yes! Quickly, barricade the door while I get the gun!”
    “Barricade? With what?”
    “Anything! Get the table, chairs!” Mrs. Tanner rushed with the chairs but she was too late, the Indians broke through the door. Mrs. Tanner retreated to the far side of the room while Agnes aimed the gun and fired it into the group of renegades.
    From atop the ridge Paul saw the Indians as they pushed their way into the house. He began running. He stopped cold in his tracks as he heard a gunshot. Agnes’ screams could be heard echoing through the countryside. Then another gunshot. Suddenly, all of the yelling stopped. Paul began to run with all his might. He tripped and landed hard on the ground. But just as fast as he hit the ground he stood back up and ran faster toward the house. He saw Indians emerge from the cabin and gallop away on their horses.
    “Agnes! Agnes!” He screamed as he neared the cabin. But she didn't answer him. He ran toward the door. Nothing could have prepared him for this gruesome scene. Beyond the dead Indian lay Mrs. Tanner in a pool of blood. He heard a faint moaning sound from behind the overturned kitchen table. He bolted toward it and pushed it aside. There lay Agnes on the floor in another pool of blood. Blood that flowed from a gaping wound in her belly, and from a lesser but even more sickening wound where she'd been scalped. “Agnes!” Paul wailed out. He bent down and took her in his arms. “Oh, those savages!” he cried. “I never should have brought you here! I shouldn't have! Oh, my sweet Aggie. Don't leave me.”
    “Shh,” She whispered. “It's not your fault. Hold me close. Just hold me.”
    “I'm holding you. I've got you.”
    “I— I love you.” She said, and she was gone.
    “No!” He screamed out. “Oh, God no! Agnes, come back to me. Agnes, please come back!” Paul sat there holding her until that afternoon when Mr. Tanner, in search of his wife, stumbled upon the horrid scene.
    “Hannah!” He fell down to his