by Ruby Hill
“You seem to have a great love of red,” Rose continued, staring around. “There are a great many things in your home that are that color.”
“Red is invigorating. It reminds me of happiness, of love. Did you see the rose bushes outside? I painstakingly tend to those, and the petals I use for dye and paints. See? Beauty in all things.”
“That is spectacular,” Rose said.
“Not as amazing as the fact that your name is Rose,” Dorothy said with a hearty wink. “It was as if you were made to be a part of this family!”
Rose smiled. It was more love than she had received in a very long time, and from someone she just met.
“Here is your room,” Dorothy said, standing just inside the door at the end of the hall.
Rose stepped inside and was stunned by the view of the lake through the windows. No tree obscured its sparkling vista. It almost as though it were right outside.
“Now, I know you said that you were bringing a great many books, but this doesn’t seem like all that many,” Dorothy said when she helped situate Rose’s luggage. “I assumed you meant to bring…well, as many as my brother has.”
Rose smiled. “I wanted to, but it just didn’t seem all that wise. There was no way I could have brought more than one small trunk full out here, and I knew that some in my family would be happy with them, too.”
She looked over at Dorothy. “Your brother seemed to tell you a great deal about our correspondences, didn’t he?” It wasn’t as if it bothered her, but she was glad that she hadn’t written anything far too personal, especially knowing now that it was read by his family.
Dorothy dropped her gaze and smiled nervously. “I…well, all right, Rose. I must tell you something. You are far too gentle of a spirit for me to keep this from you any longer.”
“What?” Rose asked, a painful burning in her chest. Why did it suddenly feel as if everything she had been hoping for, everything she had come all this way for…was about to be pulled away?
Dorothy took Rose’s hand in her own, and the two sat down on the bench in front of the bed together.
“There…is no easy way to say this, so I might as well just say it.”
She looked up into Rose’s face with a determination, mingled with fear.
“I was the one writing to you.”
Rose blanched. Surely, she had not heard the woman correctly. Slowly, she withdrew her hand from Dorothy’s.
“You…what?”
“I was pretending to be Travis,” Dorothy said. “But I promise you! I have a very good explanation for it!”
Rose got to her feet, her stomach dropping, her heart beat in her ears.
“Does Travis even know?” she asked with great anxiety.
“Well, no, but—”
Rose held her face in her hands. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real.
“I promise you, Rose. I had only the very best intentions.”
Slowly, Rose turned around to stare at the woman still seated on the bench. She seemed very non-threatening, sitting there with her hands knitted in her apron, her eyes wide and sad.
“I moved across the country for a promise that was…nothing more than a lie?” Rose asked, wincing as if the words themselves were hurting her. “My whole life…everything…to marry a man that doesn’t even know about me?”
Dorothy had stood as well, holding her hands out in sympathy. “I understand why you are upset. I truly do. But if you would give me a chance to explain…I reached out to you because it is something that Travis would not do, but I believe that you would make him very happy, just as I believe he will make you happy.”
Rose pursed her lips.
“My brother is just as I wrote about him. Who could know him better than his own sister? And you liked him…right?”
Rose’s cheeks burned once more. She had liked him, a great deal. But it was his sister, not him! She had started fall for a man who was unaware of her. It was like loving a character out of a story…
“I thought so,” Dorothy said, beaming. “And I know, know, he will love you. You are precisely the sort of woman he needs. Someone who is intelligent, adventurous, well read. And not to mention beautiful. He’s a tall man, so you will be a good fit for him.”
Rose chewed the inside of her lip. “It’s just…well, you must understand. I came out here on the pretenses that I was speaking with him, not with you.”
“I understand that, but I did not lie to you about his character. I wrote to you in the very same way he writes, with the very same words if he were to respond to an ad like that.”
“How can you be so sure that he would even accept me? The idea of me?” Rose asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Although she seethed with anger, she was determined not to let it show.
“Trust me, he will be thrilled. He has been complaining that he might never find a wife. So, I decided to do it for him.” She grinned. “And who better to find a proper wife than a woman who already is one?”
Rose huffed, expelling air through her nose in distaste.
“Rose…my brother is a wonderful man, living all alone on his great, big ranch. He needs a companion, a friend, a wife for him to keep him company. To keep him sane. And the more I corresponded with you, the more I knew you were the right fit for him. And I know he will be a great husband. He’s caring, compassionate, sensitive. If we lived in a more populated area, he would have been married as soon as he was old enough. A hidden gem, if you will.”
Rose tried to swallow past the lump that had formed in her throat.
“If you both agree, after some time together, that it just is not going to work, and my deception was for naught, then I will pay your fare home. But I ask that you give each other a chance.”
Rose turned to stare out of the window at the lake. She wasn’t crazy about the idea that Travis didn’t even know she existed, and that this would all be a surprise to him. But there was Dorothy, attempting to be the kind, caring sister to find a good wife for her brother. She may not have any siblings, but she knew enough to know they would go to great lengths to help one another.
And it wasn’t as if she had much to go home to, anyway. She did not wish to live with her aunt’s generosity any longer. She wanted to make a life for herself.
“Very well,” Rose said. “I shall stay and meet him on one condition. You must tell him about me and the letters we exchanged before he ever meets me. If you tell him and he still wishes to meet me, then I will meet him. But I don’t want to meet him and get my hopes up before he knows the truth.”
“Of course,” Dorothy said, getting to her feet and clapping her hands excitedly. “Oh, this is going to be so exciting! I can’t wait to see how this unfolds!”
3
Dorothy gave Rose a chance to rest after her trip, closing the door behind her, and enveloping her in total silence.
The view of the lake drew her back to the window, and she leaned against the wall, staring out into the water, as distant as it was.
How very strange this was all turning out to be. She knew it was all too good to be true. She had leapt at the chance to change her life, to have a story of her very own.
She smirked. Well…she supposed that all good characters experience some sort of hurdle along the way, right?
And if Dorothy was to be believed, then Travis was still the sort of man that Dorothy had made him seem like in her letters. Maybe not all hope was lost after all.
Moss Lake was stunning, far more beautiful than Philadelphia. She had never liked it there. Too many people. Not enough trees.
She didn’t want to go back. Her family did not wish her to return either—that she knew for certain. She hoped that things might still work out.
Her stomach clenched painfully. Although she wanted to remain positive, her circumstances seemed quite dire.
Dorothy summoned her for dinner a short time later, and that was where she met George, her husband. He was a jolly-looking man, with a round face, dark hair and m
atching beard, and cheerful green eyes. He laughed heartily, and often, and Rose found herself in very good company. Far better than any she would have had at home.
“I spoke to Travis,” Dorothy said partway through their meal. “He was reluctant about the whole thing, but when I told him how amazing you were, he agreed to come over straight away in the morning to meet you.”
“He…did?”
George winked at her. “Travis is a smart lad, you’ll see. He knows that Dorothy’s heart is in the right place. Ain’t it, dear?”
Dorothy affectionately gave his arm a little shove. “He was cross at first, but not because he was unhappy about the idea. On the contrary, he was more concerned about you and how you had come all this way. He did not appreciate me deceiving you.” She looked meaningfully at Rose. “And I am sorry. I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“I already have,” Rose said earnestly. “Of course I have. I do believe that you meant well. It is only natural that you want your brother to be happy.”
Dorothy appeared relieved. “Thank you. It’s true. I do hope that you come to think of us as family. We are here for you, and we want you to stay as long as you’d like while you and Travis sort things out.”
“Well, thank you very much,” Rose said. “I’m not sure where I would go otherwise.”
* * *
Rose retired early that evening, and spent a good portion of the early darkness reading. The air was warm, and she was comforted by the low burning candles in her room. It was all very relaxing.
And the excitement of meeting Travis, the real Travis, was starting to creep in once more. Dorothy and George regaled her with stories about him and his personality all throughout dinner, apparently trying to convince her that he was worth sticking around for. The more she heard, the more she was intrigued. He enjoyed fishing, and he loved dogs. He had a skilled hand when it came to crafting furniture, especially chairs. She told Rose that the whole table set they were using during that meal, he had crafted.
She ran her hands over the smooth wood, flawless and very obviously cared for, feeling like she was closer to him for the moment. She felt as if she were learning a part of him without him even being there.
A man with such an eye for detail, and took such care to create something so beautiful had to be a good man, certainly.
She laid her head back against her pillow and sighed heavily. Her whole life had changed that day, and once more it would change in the morning. She wondered what sort of joys it would bring. With her book propped open on her chest, she fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of a kind man toiling in his workshop, crafting a beautiful cradle for the bundle of joy she carried.
The next thing she saw was light. Sunlight filled her room, rousing her from her slumber. She could hear the clatter of a spoon against a pot, and the smell of frying meat. Her mouth watered.
She dressed quickly after splashing some cold water on her face, and tied her hair into a tight plait that hung over her shoulder down her front. She then tied a pretty white bonnet over it.
Making her way to the kitchen, Rose heard an unfamiliar voice. Another man, low and clear, pleasant to listen to. His tone was even, gentle. He laughed, and it was delightful to hear.
Rose stepped into the kitchen and found Dorothy there kneading some dough on the low table in the middle of the room.
“Good morning!” She said brightly. “I hope that you rested well?”
“I did, thank you,” Rose said. She looked about. “How can I help?”
“Oh, nonsense,” Dorothy said. “Don’t bother.”
“Oh, please,” Rose said. “I’ve never been allowed to help, but I always wish to. Please don’t deny me this chance.”
Dorothy studied her for a moment, but seemed to take the pleading look on her face seriously.
She was grateful when she accepted by passing her a basket of fresh carrots. She set about peeling them, all the while straining to hear the other man’s voice once more.
“Travis is here,” Dorothy said.
“I thought so,” Rose replied. Her palms were growing slick with sweat. She focused hard on slicing the carrots.
“He is looking forward to meeting you,” Dorothy went on.
Rose gave a murmured reply of agreement.
She was torn. She wished to go out and see him, get the difficult bit over with, but she also longed to stay in the kitchen, hiding her face for as long as she could. She wasn’t sure she could face him when she knew the truth of what had happened.
“You have nothing to be worried about,” Dorothy said, as if reading Rose’s thoughts. “I have taken the blame for everything. He knows that you were not involved at all. He knows that you were just as blind about the matter as he was.”
Rose chewed on her lip.
“Oh, come along,” Dorothy said, putting her own knife down. “Let’s go, I can see you are ready.”
Rose’s heart hammered against her ribs like a bird caught in a cage as they made their way toward the dining room.
Rose kept her head bent low. She wasn’t sure. She knew that she should be standing proud, eager to meet this man she had so looked forward to meeting for so long. But she couldn’t bring herself to be excited any longer. It hadn’t been real.
“Excuse me, gentleman,” Dorothy said as she came to a stop in front of the table. She set down a loaf of bread she had been carrying. “My apologies for interrupting. I just thought that now might be an appropriate time to introduce Rose. She had just joined us.”
Rose, who was staring at the floor very intently, slowly looked up.
The man who was seated next to George was a tall man, with broad shoulders, a rounded nose, and hair the same cornflower blonde as his sister’s. His eyes were large, liquid golden brown, and they stared at her in a mystified sort of way. She could see from the lines on his face that he smiled a great deal, and his face slid into one easily as they stared at one another.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Samson,” Travis said in a low voice. “My sister has told me a great deal about you.”
Rose inclined her head, berating herself loudly inside her mind for acting like such a coy, terrified little mouse. He was just a man, after all. A very handsome, intelligent, everything she could have ever wanted sort of man, but just a man none the less.
“It’s very nice to meet you as well, Mr. Ross—”
“Please, call me Travis,” he replied. He grinned. “My sister has told me that you know all about me, apparently. And came all this way just to meet me.”
Rose felt her cheeks turn as red as a beet, hot and overwhelming.
“I…well, yes, she… I thought—”
“Poor girl is a tad overwhelmed by it all,” Dorothy said. “I have likely told her a better picture of you than you actually are, dear brother.”
Travis smirked. “Indeed, you likely have.”
“I am sorry,” Rose said. “I didn’t know that she had put your name on those letters. I thought that it had really been you answering the advertisement. It’s just…”
She was a fool. Seeing him, the real Travis, knowing full well that he never chose to reply to her himself made her realize it. She didn’t even know if he would want to marry her in the end. And she had been ready to marry him as soon as she arrived. It wasn’t fair. She was far more invested than he was.
“It’s quite all right,” Travis said. “I never said I was unwelcome to the idea. It has just been a bit of a surprise.”
“You are being too kind,” Rose replied.
“Nonsense,” Travis said. “I wished to meet this woman that my sister insisted was the perfect match for me. And I intend to see that promise through.”
Rose forced a smile, but she was unsteady. She couldn’t explain the sense of betrayal she felt, but it was there, reminding her all the while that she was the one who was prepared for marriage, while Travis was still considering.
“Why don’t we sit down and have our meal?” D
orothy suggested, pulling the chair out for Rose across from Travis.
Rose nodded, and took her seat.
Well, she was just going to have to look at this differently. More like a friend had matched her up with a man that she didn’t know. It was no different than that, was it?
She would just have to sit back and see if Dorothy was right, and she had led Rose to fall in love with the man that Travis really was, not just the man that she wanted him to be.
4
A few days passed after Rose’s first introduction to Travis. Each day that passed, Rose grew more and more anxious. Of course, it was possible that he had found her utterly repulsive. She was a complete stranger, and she had done more than her fair share of remaining silent during her meal with him, Dorothy, and George. She always thought she was rather plain looking. Her nose too long, her arms too lanky. She didn’t have a figure that was striking in fancy dresses. She felt like her bones protruded too much.
Travis had been kind enough. He asked her, very politely, about herself. It was so odd, answering the same questions that she had already written down, already thinking he had read. In the end, Dorothy told Travis that she was going to give him the letters that she and Rose had written so that he could know fully what had transpired.
Rose felt foolish all the while.
“He’s very busy,” Dorothy told her after the third day of not seeing Travis. “Sometimes working on the ranch at this time of year keeps him there. I promise you that he will be back soon.”
Rose both hoped he would return and stay away.
Dorothy had been right. On the morning of the fourth day since their meeting, Travis appeared, tired and sore. Dorothy brought him inside to where Rose was sitting, reading a book.
“Oh, good I was hoping I would find you here,” he said as he took the chair opposite of hers. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been back in a few days. One of my horses fell ill, and then once she was nursed back to health, one of the steers broke through the fencing in the pasture and I had to fix that as quickly as I could. And of course, we are approaching harvest season, so I had to get some things ironed out for that…”