by Reina Torres
What seemed like only moments later, she was running out of air.
Dollie stepped back and Rosemary felt the other woman cup her cheeks gently. “You sound so much like her, sweetheart. It’s like we have her back here with us again.”
Rosemary felt tears coursing down her cheeks. Her mother was barely a hint of a memory for her but feeling Dollie’s arms around her made her imagine that it was her mother’s arms instead.
Would her mother have felt the same way?
Would her mother have hugged her tight?
Had she done so before?
Would she still be hugging her now that she was a woman grown?
“Dollie?”
Rosemary was started by the unexpected voice. Stepping back from Dollie, she stumbled over her hem, but didn’t fall because Andrew was there at her elbow, keeping her on her feet.
Edmund was standing in the doorway to Dollie’s room, his normally stoic expression a bit hesitant, almost dazed. It was surely not an expression she’d ever seen from him.
Dollie didn’t seem shocked in the least. Turning to the door she beckoned him to enter. “Did you hear her?”
He didn’t move for what seemed to be the longest time. Edmund, his starched white collar digging into his chin, remained just inside the door as if he wasn’t sure it was safe to come in. “She’s Vera’s, isn’t she?”
Hearing his words, Rosemary felt her knees weaken and buckle as if a strong wind had just blown through, taking her strength from her.
Dollie gestured for him to come closer. “Yes, she is. You could hear it, couldn’t you? That voice!”
Edmund still hadn’t moved from his place just inside the door. “I thought I was hearing a ghost.”
His words and the hushed tone of his voice made Rosemary’s heart pound a deep and steady rhythm within her chest. She had inherited her mother’s voice and the thought that something lived on within her was a joy that she would hold onto tightly.
It was a kind of a comfort that she could remind others of her mother when she’d had so little of her mother in her own memories.
“I didn’t know you were Vera’s girl.” Edmund’s voice had turned rough, scratching in her ears in a way that sounded painful. “I didn’t know.”
“What do you say, Edmund?” Dollie’s joy was a palpable thing in the room, more incandescent than the lamp’s light around the large space. “Would you like to play for her?”
Rosemary felt the ground shift beneath her feet, turning her gaze to the older gentleman. He wasn’t a tall man, barely as tall as she was, but he was straight and strong in his bearing.
Edmund stooped for no one.
He blinked as he looked at her, his eyes pouring over her features as if he was seeing her for the first time. “How didn’t I see it?”
“Well,” Dollie set her hand gently on his shoulder, smoothing over it again and again, “you didn’t know that Vera was pregnant, did you?”
Edmund’s lips slowly pulled apart as his eyes fixed on Rosemary’s face. She felt the gesture as a gentle touch. “I’ll help you,” he blurted out the words softly, “I’ll play for you.”
“And I,” Dollie added, “will help you focus that glorious sound and before you know it, you’ll be everything your mother ever dreamed she would be.”
The words stunned Rosemary again. She could speak but she couldn’t seem to find a word or words to adequately explain everything inside of her.
Nothing more than a simple, “Thank you. Thank you both.”
Dollie gestured in her direction, but it was Andrew who understood what she wanted. Andrew that took hold of her arm and stepped up to her side, tucked her arm around his and let her lean into his strength.
“Go,” Dollie nudged her with her words, “go and rest. I fear you’ve had more than your share of shocks this evening.”
Almost on cue, the impressive standing clock chimed the quarter hour and exhaustion fell over her shoulders like a heavy, velvet cloak.
“Come with me, Miss Tillman.” Andrew’s voice was soft and inviting. “I’ll see you safely back to your room.”
Turning to Dollie, Rosemary saw her encouraging smile and nod. “Go ahead, dear. Our Mister Brooks will treat you well or he’ll answer to-”
“Me.” Edmund’s tone brooked no argument.
“I would never hurt her or upset her in any way.”
Rosemary looked up and saw the stark truth in his eyes. It only made him even more handsome to her, made his heart even more true.
When they’d arrived at her door, Rosemary managed to open the lock without jingling the key against the lock. She turned to address him before stepping into the darkness of her room.
“Mister Brooks,” her voice sounded like the river against the hull, a soft hush of sound, “you learned about my mother right at my side. What do you think about what you heard?”
She could feel her frazzled nerves just beneath her skin, like the beginning of a shiver.
His gaze never turned away from her. His eyes never lost their warmth.
As he offered her his hand, she set her palm against his and felt the heat of his skin against hers, brushing away the cold and her worries, but she needed the words.
Needed to know what he felt.
“I heard,” he punctuated the word with a gentle smile, “your voice. And in that voice, I heard your heart and soul. I’ve seen many lands and met many people, Rosemary Tillman, but I have never been drawn to any as I am to you.”
She blinked at the prickle of tears that crept along her lashes.
She felt the sure strength of his hand as he lifted her hand to his lips.
Andrew Brooks leaned over and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and quite literally took her breath away.
“I shall see you in the morning, Miss Tillman.”
Pausing for a moment, she wondered. He had been around the world and met so many different people. How would she ever keep the interest of a man who had the world at his feet?
“Perhaps,” she wondered aloud, “when the morning comes, I’ll realize that this is just a sweet dream.”
His smile eased many of her worries and his hand gave hers a reassuring squeeze. “Then you’ll just have to resign yourself to many sweet dreams in the days to come, Miss Tillman. I promise you that.”
With the soft caress of his voice within her ears, Rosemary stepped back into her room, but she didn’t break eye contact with him until the door clicked closed.
Chapter Five
The days moved along in an almost surreal haze of warmth and building joy. As he learned more about the make-shift family that had reached out to include him, Andrew was coming to a number of revelations that caught him unawares.
“Mister Brooks, sir?”
He knew someone was speaking to him, but his eyes were only for Rosemary where she sat across the room with the other women from the kitchen. Her face was alight with joy and her expression was unguarded.
In a word, she was beautiful.
In his heart, she was quickly becoming everything.
“Mister Brooks?”
The slight tinge of desperation broke through his errant thoughts.
Turning, he ignored the knowing grin on Moses’ lips and met Lonnie’s concerned gaze.
“What is it, Lonnie?”
“Gosh, Mister Brooks, you sure you ain’t sick? My pappy used to lose himself like that sometimes and my mama used to tell me it was some kind of sickness brought on by a bug bite.” Lonnie’s broad brow pinched tight. “You reckon we should check you for bug bites?”
The larger man started to get up from his place at the table, but it was Moses who was fast enough to rein in his friend. “Don’t you worry about our friend, Mister Brooks. There’s just one thing that will cure what ails him.”
Andrew tried to ignore the pointed look that the other man cast over his shoulder.
Lonnie’s lack of guile gave way to his concern. “If it’s medicine you need, Mister B
rooks, you just tell me what it is and I’ll get it when we get to the dock.
“But, you’d best write down the words, I ain’t good at memo- memi – remembering anything fancy.”
Andrew could see how the admission had taken its toll on the good-hearted young man. Lonnie cast his gaze about the room and returned it to Andrew with a heavy frown of worry on his brow.
He wanted to reassure him, but he would have to be honest and straightforward. Andrew knew that Lonnie would know instantly if he was trying to pull the wool over his eyes.
He might not be able to lie to other people, but Lonnie could aways tell when someone lied to him. It was a strange gift, but it had served them well at the last dock when one of the suppliers had tried to cheat them on a purchase.
Andrew owed Lonnie not just his care but he owed him the same truth that Lonnie gave them.
“I’m not good with words either.”
Lonnie’s brow curved down until it nearly shrouded his eyes in shadow. “You speak real fine, Mister Brooks.”
“I meant writing words, Lonnie.”
The confusion on Lonnie’s face was immediate. “How can that be?”
Looking at Moses sitting beside Lonnie, Andrew gestured to him. “In fact, I think Moses has a finer hand than I with a pen and paper.”
Moses had to reach out a hand to steady his friend as the man visibly swayed.
“Is that true, Moses? Can you write better’n Mister Brooks?”
Moses thought about the question for a moment, but when he spoke, he answered Lonnie with the plain truth. “I guess so.”
Both Andrew and Moses watched Lonnie for a moment and saw the change of expressions on his face as if he was struggling to put the pieces of a puzzle together.
The time came when Lonnie shifted on the bench and leaned closer to Moses, cupping his hand beside his mouth, but when he spoke it was even louder than his normal volume.
“But you ain’t white, Moses.”
Andrew braced for a reaction from the room.
And didn’t get the reaction he’d expected. Only a few people even seemed to hear Lonnie’s words. And of those few he saw the hesitation on Rosemary’s face.
But when he smiled, she echoed the gesture and followed the other two kitchen helpers back into their domain to start preparing afternoon tea for the passengers.
Andrew’s attention was brought back to the matter at hand by Moses’ sure tone and earnest eyes.
“That’s right, Lonnie, but I know how to write. I went to school.”
That caught Lonnie by surprise. “You got to go? My pappy said learnin’ was wasted on my thick head. He kept me on the farm and wouldn’t let no one argue with him on the matter.”
Andrew thought he understood the unspoken question in Lonnie’s eyes and so, it seemed, that Moses understood it as well.
“I went to school when I was an adult, Lonnie. There was a man and his wife who offered lessons to anyone who had a want to learn.” Moses turned to look at Andrew. “And I wanted it.”
“And there I was,” Andrew admitted, “taken aboard a ship when I had but a lesson or two on reading and writing. Children in my town had little need for books and the like. We were destined for labor with our hands not writing. It wasn’t until I was a man full grown that I found the Sailor’s Rest School. They taught me even though the start of my lessons was likely frustrating for everyone.
“Until they discovered I learned to read written music faster than the written word and they used that to change how they taught me. One of the teachers showed me how to put words together like melodies.
“Once I learned that, it was all they could do to pry the books from my hands. Probably why I never took to the craftsman trades that they offered lessons in. But that was about a year ago, Lonnie. If you’ve a want to learn, I will teach you.”
Moses set his hand down on Lonnie’s shoulder. “I’ll help you as well.”
Lonnie’s gaze moved from Moses to Andrew and back again before the young man swallowed and ducked his head. “You’d both help me?”
Andrew smiled even though Lonnie couldn’t see it through the top of his bowed head. “Of course, Lonnie. You’re a good man with a good heart and a strength of character that goes beyond the strength of your body. If you want to better yourself, we’ll help.”
Lonnie had no words, but Moses reached over and wrested the hat from Lonnie’s hands before he mashed it beyond repair.
Andrew looked down at the watch he’d left open on the table. “Well, we should head down to the hold and start to prepare the cargo before we get to the dock.”
Moses helped Lonnie to his feet and the two walked out together as Andrew stood and picked up his suit coat that he’d laid on the bench seat beside him.
“Here,” he heard her soft voice and turned to see Rosemary standing a few steps away, her hand held out to him.
He didn’t ask why.
Nor did he care.
He set the coat in her hand.
Smiling, Rosemary took hold of the coat with both hands, shaking it out before she ran her hand over the coat to brush off anything that might have taken hold while he’d left it on the bench.
When she was satisfied, or as much as he could surmise given the sweet curve of her lips, she took hold of the collar and held it for him.
He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving her own, and slipped his arm into the coat.
As he turned to repeat the movement with the other arm, he felt her fingers brush up against the back of his neck. His skin tingled where her soft touch skimmed along his shirt collar and he felt the slightest shiver as the ends of his close-cut hair tickled her in return.
He turned to face her, curious to see if there was color in her cheeks or if her eyes sparkled as much as he remembered.
He wasn’t disappointed.
Rosemary’s cheeks were warmed by a rosy flush of color. And her eyes, the same eyes that he dreamed of night after night, were focused on him with a bright light.
She took his breath away.
“Thank you.”
He shook himself from his reverie. “I should say that to you for helping with my coat.”
She shook her head and stepped closer, using her hands to smooth down his lapels. “I will always be more than happy to help you, for I find that it comforts me to have you close.” She smoothed her hand down his sleeve. “And you do look so handsome in your coat.”
His chest was so tight it hurt to breathe, but he did because she was near and smelled of warm spice and sweet honey.
“I’m thanking you for what you’ve given Lonnie.”
His brow lowered over his narrowed eyes. “I haven’t taught him yet.”
“It’s not about that.”
They both turned slightly as Loretta appeared in the kitchen doorway and gave them both a look meant to hurry things along. When she retreated back into the kitchen, Andrew felt Rosemary’s hand in his.
He glanced down and saw that she had woven their fingers together.
“You’ve given him the courage to dream.” Her softly spoken words drew his gaze back to her face. “You’ve given him a glimmer of something more.”
It wasn’t hard to hear the praise in her words and hear the deep appreciation in her tone. She made him sound and feel like a man ten feet tall.
“A glimmer,” he reminded her, “perhaps a kernel, but that doesn’t do him any good until we’ve taught him what he wants to know.”
Her fingers tightened around his and he felt his insides twist into knots worthy of a lifelong sailor.
She moved closer and he felt the heavy push of her skirts against his legs, relishing her nearness.
“You make excuses, Mister Brooks, but you should know you won’t change my mind. I’ve made it up. You’re a hero whether you like it or not, and what you call a kernel… for a man, or a woman, lacking in self-worth or confidence… a kernel of kindness… of genuine concern, can be a meal.”
Giving hi
s hand one more squeeze she stepped away, slowly breaking contact between their hands.
“Stay the wonderful man you are, Andrew Brooks. The world needs you more than you know.”
When she disappeared into the kitchens and Loretta shut the door behind her, Andrew looked down at the hand that she had been holding. It didn’t look any different.
It was still the same as it had been just a few minutes before, but it felt as if there was something different about it. Something more, because Rosemary had held his hand in her own.
He understood her words more. He’d been a boy taken from his home and scared out of his mind. He’d been set free from his servitude and cast adrift in the world. And he’d been a man for awhile. A man in search of a life.
And there she was.
The woman who gave him a glimmer of the future. A yearning for something more. A hunger for her affection.
And the determination to make a success of himself so he could share that with her.
Straightening his spine and lifting his chin he set off toward the cargo hold. He had work to do.
When Sally and Jean had taken the last two carts from the kitchen, Loretta and Rosemary sat down on the bench by the window and leaned back against the wall. It took a moment for the wind to make its appearance and Rosemary giggled when Loretta sighed and picked up a towel from the hook on the wall, fanning it at her face.
“I don’t think I can move.”
Rosemary was in complete agreement with her. “Do you think we could get someone to bring us pillows and blankets?”
Loretta scoffed at the idea. “If I’m going to sleep,” she explained, “I’m going to do it in my bed. If I fall asleep here, my back will be as stiff as the board my backside is sitting on.”
“True enough, I suppose,” Rosemary stretched out one leg and then the other, wincing at the pain in her lower back. “I still don’t think I could get up and walk to my room.”
“Then I’m glad I set this here a few minutes ago.” Loretta reached for the pitcher on the little table the kitchen help use for tea and poured two glasses of cool clear water.