CHAPTER 9 - Amon

I 've seen Rosie Harlow dressed up many ways now. Retro flower girl from the Seventies, sassy diner waitress from the Fifties, and, of course, Twenties-era garden-party socialite. But I like how she looks in these Colonial dresses the best. She's… different. More demure. Maybe even a little bit shy.

Not that I don't like her more typical bigger-than-life personality, I do. But it's nice to see her in a different light.

The dress she's wearing today is a combination of silver and pink and obviously made of some kind of luxurious fabric. Probably silk. The bodice is pink and it's got laces holding her breasts in like a corset. But she's wearing a dress underneath this corset as well, and this one is silver. The sleeves stop at her elbows and are trimmed in pink lace, matching the corset. There are at least two skirts, one over, one under, and they are contrasting colors so the whole thing is very… feminine .

Which Rosie is. But she doesn't typically show it off this much and I really like it. I think she likes it too. I mean, why else would she spend so much time and money in Bishop if this wasn't her thing? She doesn't have a place in Revenant, as far as I know. It's not like she's got a little flophouse above a pool hall and a closet full of biker jackets down there.

Bishop is romantic. I mean, it's all bullshit, just like Disciple, because I doubt people had much time to think about romance in Colonial times. Life was hard and the work was endless.

But Trinity County is selling a fantasy. That's why people come here.

The reason Rosie Harlow has a place in Bishop filled with period-appropriate dresses that probably cost a small fortune is because time is something you make for things you like doing.

And this is something she likes doing.

At least, that's how I put it all together. And maybe I'm wrong, but the look on her face when I walked through that door and she saw me making a fashion statement—well, it was a combination of amazement and joy. So I think I got it right.

As Rosie and I walk arm in arm down the main street here in the historical district, no one really pays us much attention. If they think it's weird that I'm dressed up in Justin Carter's clothes, they don't much care, I guess. Because no one seems to be staring or chuckling behind my back as we pass.

Something Ryan and Nash would probably do. Though I feel like they have both accepted the weirdness of these towns without much protest. Ryan is even dating a Disciple girl, though it's a relatively new thing and whether it lasts or not remains to be seen.

When we get to the Ordinary there is no wait and we are taken right to our table. It's hot outside, but in here it's on the verge of frigid because they keep the AC cranking. Hot people wearing ten layers of clothing aren't happy customers, after all. And if there's one thing Trinity County understands, it's happy customers.

Rosie and I are seated at an intimate table in front of the window so we can see everybody outside, adding to our experience.

There is no menu, you eat what they cook and today it's turkey, duck, and fixin's. Once our server leaves, Rosie smiles at me. "OK. I give."

"You give what?"

"What is this all about?" She waves her hand in the air, gesturing to me and the restaurant at the same time.

"Why did I choose this place for our first date?"

Rosie nods. "You have to admit, it's a little bit out of character for you."

"But not for you. And the only reason a man has a first date with a woman is to make her happy. I figured this would make you happy. Have you ever been here before?"

Rosie shakes her head. "No. Never."

"Have you wanted to come?"

"Are you serious? Yes. Since I was little girl. But"—she points to herself—"I got four brothers. It was never gonna happen."

Now this makes me laugh. "Well, that's funny, ya know? Because I have four sisters."

"Oh, my God. You've been here before!"

I nod. "I have. We came here as a family once when Vangie turned nine. That's all she wanted for her birthday since she was four years old and finally, she got her wish. So we all put the clothes on and came in for a Colonial dining experience. I was like seventeen, I think. So of course, I was all put out about this. But I still remember Vangie's face. She was in heaven. Hell, even Angel enjoyed herself and she hates everything."

Rosie smiles. "So that's where you get it."

"Get what?"

"That… charm or whatever. That… romantic side, I guess. Four sisters. It's hard not to pick up on the ways of women when you're surrounded on all sides."

I point at her. "And that's why you're so damn easy to be around. It's hard not to learn how to be one of the guys when you've spent your whole life being poked by them."

"Oh, that's true. You learn to let things slide off your back when you grow up packed between brothers like cheese in a boloney sandwich."

I smile and lean back in my chair, fully satisfied with this date even though we just barely got started. "I like you, Rosie."

"I like you too, Amon." Rosie blushes and fans herself with her hand. Which is no doubt a habit she's picked up from being in the Revival tent all these years and I find that adorable.

Me. With a Disciple girl. Not sure how I got here, but my arrival feels like fate.

We talk easily about everything after that. Like we're old friends, which we kinda are, who are picking up where they left off, which we're definitely not. But it's all very familiar and casual. Lunch comes, we eat, and we laugh a little, talking about small things in our lives. She asks 'bout my dogs, which I talk about for far too long. And I ask about Cross. Because Cross is Rosie's everything and once she starts in with him, she just keeps going.

She doesn't mind that all I talk about is dogs, I don't mind that all she talks about is Cross, and I can feel us fitting together like puzzle pieces.

After the meal is over and the easy conversation ends, we both sit back in our chairs, relaxing. Though how she relaxes in that tight dress is something I'll never understand. This thought leads down a trail I didn't expect to be traveling on the first date, but it shows up nonetheless. Because I find myself fantasizing about unlacing that corset and slipping that dress down her shoulders.

"I've had a nice time, Amon."

I snap back from my fantasy and gaze into those gray eyes of hers. "I'm glad. I did too. What are you up to for the rest of the day?"

"Well, it's a McBooms afternoon so I gotta go change and head back to Disciple. What are you doing?"

She's smiling when she asks this. So naturally, I jump to conclusions. "I'm walking you home. Then…" I pause, pretending to think because she's blushing a little. "Then I dunno. Depends, I guess." Maybe I'll follow you into that cottage of yours and carefully undress you, layer by layer, until you're naked, and then make love to you on that lovely velvet chaise. But of course, I don't say that last part out loud. "Shall we go?"

Rosie sucks in a deep breath, like maybe she heard my thoughts, and then I get up and grab her chair so she can stand.

Then I offer her my arm and she takes it. We leave the Ordinary like that. Like we're a thing. Which we're not, officially. Yet. But in Bishop, especially dressed as we are, what we're doing is certainly sending all the signals.

Outside it's hot, but the whole downtown is lined with old sugar maples that tower above us, providing a canopy of shade, so it's a nice walk along the brick-paved sidewalks. Downtown is not too busy with tourists today. There are a few groups of schoolkids, but mostly it's local people just going about their day.

The gravel alley where Rosie has her little cottage is bustling with backyard activity. There are pigs running around, and roosters hollering, and groups of women chatting across clotheslines. Their husbands go to work every day and do things like horseshoeing, and butchering, and woodworking. It's weird to see this as normal in this modern era we all live in, but it's kinda cool too.

We stop at her cottage and I'm just about to offer my services to help her take that dress off when Rosie says, "Thank you for a very nice time today, Amon."

Which is code for, Sorry, Amon, but I don't put out after just one lunch date. Even if you are dressed up like an eighteenth-century gentleman.

But that's OK. I don't mind the chase. In fact, the chase is kinda fun. "You're very welcome, Rosie. How about we set up another date so we can continue our courtship?"

She shakes her head, blushing. "You're so funny."

"Why?"

"Courtin'? This costume?"

"You don't like it?"

"Well, of course I like it, Amon. It's…" She looks me up and down. And for a moment I think she might change her mind and allow me to relieve her of that corset. But no luck. "Very romantic. And… well, it suits you."

"It suits me, does it?" And I chuckle. Because Rosie Harlow doesn't know me. She has no idea who I was before I came back to Disciple. Which only makes this whole thing better. Because I don't wanna be that guy anymore. I'd choose this guy over that one any day. "Well, this certainly suits you as well. Maybe we were born in the wrong town, Rosie? Maybe we were meant to grow up here."

"So you could, what, be a blacksmith?"

"And you could be… one of those wives over there. Hanging laundry and feeding chickens."

"Chasing pigs and gossiping all day?" She laughs. "It's not a bad life."

"I never said it was."

"But… nah. We were born where we were meant to. I doubt that even I could've talked my way into sticking around for profit share after getting pregnant in tenth grade if I was part of Bishop instead of Disciple."

"Well, if anyone could pull that off, it would've been you, Rosie. Now let's talk about that next date."

"Well…" She pauses. "How about we don't?"

I point to myself, a little bit stunned. "You don't wanna go out with me again?"

"I never said that. It's just, asking me to make plans with you is… a little forward, don't you think?"

"Oh. Right. Fine. I guess I started it, didn't I? We're playing lady and gentleman of Bishop now, are we?"

Rosie shrugs. "Well, I don't think we have to limit our courtin' to Bishop."

Which makes me picture myself dressed up like James Dean ravishing her in that waitress uniform. "We don't?" And now I'm grinning wildly, my imagination goin' crazy with possibilities. "Well, OK then. Challenge accepted." I bow a little, then straighten up so I can grab her hand, slowly lifting it to my lips, and kiss her knuckles while staring her straight in the eyes. "I'll see you soon, Rosie."

She fans herself with that hand when I let it go. And her cheeks go hot and pink. "See ya around, Amon."

By the time I get back to the compound my face hurts from smiling so much.

When Collin and I started making plans for buying this compound, I did envision myself settling down with a Disciple girl. But Rosie Harlow was never part of that daydream. My last memory of her, before I saw her in the Rise and Shine that first morning I was back, was her pregnant. Her water breaking in the cafeteria. That look of utter fear on her face.

But look at her now. She's beautiful, and smart, and funny, and ambitious, and even though she's the only woman I've dated since I've been back—she's the one.

I'm gonna marry Rosie Harlow and then we're gonna settle down and have ourselves a bunch of asshole kids. Well, with Rosie as their mother, they won't be assholes like I was. They'll be good, like Cross.

Damn. I've made a good choice here. I need to go all out and make sure that she sees me as her ‘one.'

The compound is buzzing with ex-soldiers and dogs as I pull in to the driveway, but I just go right on past, all the way back to my house near the kennels. I park, get out, and I'm just about to head inside to change out of my costume when I see that fucker Sawyer goin' into the woods again.

I want to follow him and see what he's up to, but then I hear Collin's voice in my head. We should just let the man do his job and hope he really is gone in two weeks .

But when I look around, and over my shoulder, Collin is nowhere to be found. So I make an executive decision and head in that same direction.

I've been all over these woods since we bought the compound and I know them pretty well. So I know that this trail that Sawyer is taking leads in the direction of the old mine. It's mostly a well-worn deer trail, but at one point there's some actual hill climbing involved. Then it evens out into a little meadow, and on the opposite side of that is the main entrance to the mine.

When I get there, Sawyer is nowhere around and the entrance to the mine is blocked with rocks. Which is probably how it's been for ages. Either an accidental cave-in, or, more likely, a deliberate one to seal it off so curious teenagers didn't get themselves killed.

I look for tracks, but it hasn't rained in over a week and I'm out of practice in this skill, so as I turn and go back down the mountain, I find myself wishing I had brought a dog with me.

I almost get one and go back up, but then I see Collin coming down his porch steps. "Hey!" I call to him.

He raises a hand back at me. Then he starts laughing. "What the hell are you wearing?"

I look down at myself, then back up at him. I forgot about my costume. "I took Rosie to the Ordinary for lunch. So…" I shrug. "When in Rome."

Collin chuckles. "You took Rosie… you and Rosie?"

"Is that weird?"

"Well." Collin pauses to think. "Not really, actually. It's just surprising. I didn't know you were interested."

"Well, neither did I, but turns out I am. She's a very rare gem. Did you know she's got jobs all over Trinity County and she wears costumes for all of them?"

Collin beams an amused smile at me. "I did not know that."

"Well, she does. She's got a printshop in Bishop, Collin. She writes a lonely-hearts newsletter or some such thing. And it's going big-time now because it's gettin' inserted into the Disciple paper every weekend."

Collin makes a face of confusion. "She writes a what?"

"You know. Those ‘desperately seeking' personal ads? Only more old-timey. I wrote one. It's going in the paper this weekend." Collin has now been rendered speechless, but his face says what his mouth doesn't, so I clarify. "I wrote one looking for Rosie . And then in the next issue, she'll write me back." He still looks confused. "It's a romantic thing. Fuck's sake, Collin. I'm courtin' her."

Now he bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard, he bends over, grabbing his stomach.

"What? Why is that funny?"

Collin straightens up, still laughing. "You're courtin' her? Oh, Amon. I need to record this shit. It's gold." Then he points to my outfit. "This is above and beyond, brother. Above and beyond."

"Whatever. Anyway. I just followed Sawyer into the woods and?—"

"Dammit, Amon," Collin interrupts, his face all business now. "I fuckin' told you not to bother that man. Just leave him alone."

"You and I both know this is about Blackberry Hill. And he's doin' it right under our noses. We need to figure this out because those men are dangerous, Collin. I know we got the upper hand that last time, and we haven't seen them since you threatened Ike Monroe, but it's not a forever thing. It's a temporary truce as they circle the wagons and call for reinforcements."

Collin sighs, but doesn't disagree. "I know. That's probably all true. But this isn't about us, Amon. It's about Charlie. If Charlie's involved, then he's taking care of things."

"You give him way too much credit. He's a dirty, two-faced politician, only worse. Because he was never elected. He's nothing but a corrupt bureaucrat."

"As I well know, Amon. Trust me. But you know why I put up with it. And I'm tired of saying this—he's paying the bills right now. His contracts keep us afloat."

"I get that. But it doesn't mean we have to let his man use us to rile up Blackberry Hill or whatever the fuck he's doing. I'm not saying we need to interfere with Sawyer, I'm just saying that sticking your head in the sand never made anyone's life better in the end. We need to find out what he's doing, even if we never do anything with that information."

Collin sighs and I know him well enough to interpret this sigh as giving in. "Fine. We'll track him." He shoots a look over his shoulder, then lowers his voice. "But we're not gonna interfere and we're not telling anyone else. It's me and you and that's it."

"Let me change and get the dogs. We'll go now."

"No. I gotta run into Richmond this afternoon for a meeting."

I raise my eyebrows. "With Charlie?"

"Who else." He points a finger at me. "Don't take a dog into those woods without me. We'll do it tomorrow."

I sigh, but give in because I basically got my way, even if it's not on my schedule. "Fine. Tomorrow morning, but we're doing it first thing, so don't make any other plans."

Collin agrees. Then smiles at me. "Who ya gonna be tomorrow? Daniel Boone? Or James Joyce?"

"James who?"

Collin raises his eyebrows. "You skipped school that day, didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"That day in Mr. Coswell's English class when he told us to absolutely never, ever read James Joyce's letters to his wife because they were not for Trinity County eyes."

I laugh. "Let me guess. Everyone left school that day looking for those letters on the internet."

"He nearly got fired for that remark."

"Where the hell was I?"

Collin shrugs. "Probably hungover in Revenant." Then he winks at me. "But I know what you'll be reading tonight. And you'll be penning smutty letters to Rosie by tomorrow."

"Fuck off." But when I turn away, I'm smiling. Because Rosie Harlow is a dramatic girl if ever there was one and my little plan to court her using costumes and personal ads is absolutely brilliant.

There ain't another man alive who can compete with me now.