Rose, Exposed

by Afton Locke

  Mary screamed and her painting fell face-down on the floor, ruining it. Jonathan rose in a flash and rushed toward Leroy.

  “You! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled.

  Rose squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, Leroy, don’t make it any worse. Please! I couldn’t bear it.

  “It slipped out of my hand… Sir.” Leroy ground out each word carefully as if each one ripped him to pieces.

  “I ought to slip you out of my hand.” Jon squeezed his arm. “I knew you’d be trouble from the minute I hired you.”

  Whimpers and moans emanated from the girls who watched with goggle-eyed shock. Mary’s face was the color of chalk and Rose fanned her with her unfinished portrait to keep her from fainting.

  Mrs. Carter stood. “Jonathan, please. No violence in front of the girls.”

  When the white man turned to look at them, the depth of hatred in his gray eyes made Rose as lightheaded as Mary. When Jonathan’s gaze caught hers, however, he straightened and took a deep breath.

  Turning back to Leroy, he said, “Your services are no longer required here. Leave at once and don’t come back.”

  Leroy backed away from the screen and nodded. “Yes sir. First thing I’m gonna do is eat me an apple.”

  Everyone else’s face went blank with confusion but Rose knew what he meant.

  “I-I need to go lie down,” she said.

  “Me too,” Mary said, clenching the collar of her blouse. “I feel quite unwell.”

  Mrs. Carter rushed to Mary’s side and took her hand. “Perhaps I should call the doctor.”

  Without another word, Rose disappeared into the house. She ran out the front door and around to the cellar. As she’d suspected, Leroy waited inside. As soon as she descended the stone steps, he tied a piece of string through the door handle loops, preventing anyone from walking in on them.

  The sudden damp coolness made her shiver after being in the summer heat above.

  “Why?” she cried, touching the slick blood on his hands. “Why did you do such a thing?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to. I lost control.”

  “You shouldn’t have stayed. I told you to go.”

  “That’s exactly why I stayed.” His voice sounded strangled with jealousy.

  So much hatred in one morning. Rose couldn’t bear it. The men didn’t hate her, just each other, but it was because of her—because she was both of them, but neither one. Looking down at her blended skin in the dim light, she’d never in her life detested it so.

  “I do have to go soon.” He squeezed her hands, not letting go. “The man in the Klan robe probably wants to rip my head off.”

  Rose’s eyes burned with tears. “We said goodbye already. I don’t think I could do it again.”

  Being in this private cocoon reminded her of tasting his man flesh. If only they could make love one last time. Her pussy wept along with her eyes.

  He stamped his foot, a dull thump against the earth floor. “How the hell am I going to watch over you now that my job here is gone?”

  “I’ll be fine. This Friday I’m going with Mrs. Carter and Mary to Baltimore to attend an art show.”

  He scowled. “Art show? What art show? Where is it?”

  “The Chesapeake Chambers Hotel. It’s about modern Maryland women or something like that.”

  “I don’t like that sound of it.” His eyes flashed and then dimmed out. “You’re already becoming more modern every day. I miss the old-fashioned Rose I used to hold in that tree.”

  Not her. The exciting new world she’d entered filled her with enough air to make her float higher than a cloud. If only he felt the same way.

  “At least I’ll be away from Jonathan.” She was just as relieved about that as Leroy surely was.

  “Aw, hell. It sounds expensive. How will I afford to watch over you there?”

  She tried to slip her hands out of his but he held them fast. “Watch me? You can’t possibly do that.”

  “I have to keep you safe.” He got down on one knee. “Don’t even go to that show, hear? Marry me. I’ll get you a ring if I have to go into debt the rest of my life for it.”

  “I told you I can’t.” Rose bit her bottom lip. “Jewelry has nothing to do with it.”

  “I would do anything for you, Rose. Anything.” His voice climbed with emotion. “You’re more important than my job and even my family.”

  How many women were lucky enough to meet a man who would give everything they had? Pulling her hands free, she bent down and kissed the top of his head, then embraced him as she fell onto him.

  “Don’t say that,” she said. “I should be nothing to you. Forget me. You deserve so much better.”

  He stood, pulling her up with him. “You want to go to Baltimore, don’t you?”

  She looked down as the truth probed her chest with the clarity of a searchlight.

  “I do,” she finally whispered. “I know it makes me selfish and foolish, but I do.”

  “Your art is important to you,” he agreed. “After it’s over, we’ll talk about the future.”

  “You’re not ever going to give up on me, are you?” she asked.

  “Not on your life.”

  As she watched him slip out the door, she stood shivering in the dark. His persistence, stronger than rope, tied itself around her. She couldn’t figure out if the pressure comforted her or choked off her breath. When she gazed down at her upturned palms, they were streaked with dark marks—Leroy’s blood.

  * * * * *

  An hour later, Leroy stood in front of the Rockfield Oyster House on Oyster Island, the place he’d worked for years beginning as a teenager. The large wooden building looked so unchanged, it was as if he’d gone back in time. Never mind the fact some of it had been rebuilt after the Klan tried to burn it down last year. Even the lumpy ground, packed hard with old oyster shells, felt familiar under his feet.

  Today, he’d stared the Klan in the face. With Rose about to traipse around Baltimore, he’d lost his chance to get his job back. When he’d called Caleb with the news he had to go to Baltimore this weekend instead of working as promised, his boss said, “Don’t bother ever coming back.”

  The usually patient man had finally lost his last shred of patience. Leroy couldn’t blame him. He’d gone back on his word, again—just as Rose had to him about marriage. Before he’d met her, he’d been a dependable worker. Now he was as unreliable as she was.

  And now he had no job at all. Hopefully, Henry Rockfield would let him work here through Thursday, enough to earn his round-trip fare on the steamboat to Baltimore. After that, he’d starve and sleep on the streets if he had to, but he was not letting Rose out of his sight.

  He walked toward the door, knowing his family was inside. For the first time in his life, he didn’t particularly want to see them. He knew what they would say about his feelings for Rose. They would be just as disgusted with him as Caleb had been.

  After taking a fortifying breath, filled with the salty tang of oysters, he walked inside. Even though the plant was larger than the one on Pearl Point, the low-ceilinged room seemed smaller than he remembered. The sounds of a boat idling at the dock and oysters being shucked and shoveled distracted him as he scanned the long rows of work tables. His mother’s and sister’s heads were bent, intent on their shucking work, in their usual spot.

  Wilma saw him first. “What you doing here, son?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a long story. I need to work here for a few days, if I can.”

  Something else was amiss too. He didn’t know what until he noticed Sadie’s husband Buck working almost at the other end of the row.

  “Sadie, what’s your husband doing all the way down there instead of next to you?”

  “They’s getting a divorce,” Mama said, reaching for another oyster.

  Sadie knifed her oyster open with extra force. “Mama! You promised not to say anything.”

  “I’m your brother.” Leroy’s face stung a
s if he’d had a door slammed in his face on a winter day. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  His sister shot him a glare. “Because you’re too busy chasing Miss White Daisy Flower.”

  Leroy scuffed his foot against the rough concrete floor in frustration. If Rose had driven a wedge between him and his family, it wasn’t all her fault. They couldn’t even give the girl a chance.

  “Her name is Rose,” he reminded her. “When did this happen? I just saw you at the fish fry Saturday.”

  “She found them,” Wilma muttered, waving her oyster knife in the air.

  “Mama, let me tell this.” Sadie set down her knife and took off her gloves. “I found them Sunday night. Buck was late getting home, so I decided to walk to her house.”

  She must mean the attractive woman Buck had talked to at the fish fry. Leroy knew what his sister was about to say and wanted to kick himself for not being there to save her from that pain.

  “I found them in bed together,” she said in a numb, flat voice.

  “Oh, Sadie, no.” For the second time that day, rage boiled up in his veins, threatening to explode. “I’m going to take him apart.”

  As soon as he took a step toward Buck, Sadie’s strong grip on the back of his collar yanked him back.

  “Stop right there,” she said. “I’m not going to let you humiliate me any more than I already have been.”

  His hands clenched into hard fists, making the tiny cuts from the metal screen sting. Aside from Sadie’s plea, he really needed that steamboat fare. Henry wouldn’t hire him if he beat one of his best workers to a pulp in front of everyone.

  “Then I’ll deal with him later, in private,” he said.

  Mama raised an eyebrow at Sadie. “The man works hard and earns steady money. Why can’t you just look the other way as a lot of women do?”

  His sister’s ample chest rose with a deep sigh. “Because I’d rather be alone and penniless than second best. We’ll be just fine, Mama. I’m strong enough to row us to work.”

  “Oh no, you’re not,” Leroy exclaimed, wiping sweat off his brow from the humidity. “Mama’s right. You need a man to look after you. Seems that man is going to have to be me now.”

  Sadie squeezed his arm as her eyes glistened with tears. “We don’t need a man, but I’m glad you came.”

  The sound of a clearing throat interrupted them. Henry Rockfield stood with his thumbs hooked in his suspenders. It was hard to believe the man ran this plant now. He still resembled the oysterman he used to be.

  “Leroy, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Henry said. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Pearl Point?”

  “That job didn’t work out. Mr. Rockfield, I’d like to work for you for the next few days, at least. I need steamboat fare to Baltimore.”

  Mama frowned. “Baltimore? What you going to Baltimore for?”

  Leroy held up a hand, silencing her. He started to promise he’d work after the trip too, but didn’t want to risk breaking his word again. He couldn’t seem to predict anything where Rose was concerned.

  “Sure,” Henry replied easily. “You know how to shuck and we could always use an extra pair of hands.”

  “He’s a nice man, isn’t he?” Sadie commented after Henry walked away.

  A hell of a lot nicer than Caleb sometimes, Leroy thought, but he didn’t have Pearl and an unborn baby to protect.

  “But I bet he’d be unfaithful to his wife too, if he had one,” Sadie added.

  “I don’t expect he’ll ever marry to begin with,” Mama said, resuming her work. “That man’s wife is the sea.”

  Leroy rubbed his forehead. So much had happened today he was dizzy with it. Despite working the best job of his life in Pearl Point and meeting the most fascinating woman ever, he’d come full circle, back to his family and his old job. For the first time in months, he felt solid ground under his feet and it wasn’t just the concrete floor.

  After he watched over Rose in Baltimore this weekend, maybe he really should try to do what everyone, including her, had been begging him to—forget her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Rose entered Baltimore’s Chesapeake Chambers Hotel on Friday, her mouth hung slack with awe. Outside, floor after floor of rounded windows stretched to the sky, ending in a gabled roof. Inside, her gaze drifted up to the high, stamped ceiling of the lobby. Luxury permeated everything from the marble floors, massive columns and thick rugs to the gold-leaf furniture.

  Busy people rushed by in suits or swirling skirts. To her dismay, she noticed all women her age and older wore stockings.

  She never dreamed she’d see Baltimore again. As soon as the steamboat had docked in Baltimore Harbor, all her old memories of growing up here assailed her. To be here as a white woman filled her with power as strong as a lightning bolt. She didn’t even need the fairies anymore.

  The fear of doing something to give herself away, however, had followed her from Oyster Island. She observed Mary closely and whatever Mary did, she did.

  “After we get settled, we’ll go shopping,” Mrs. Carter promised them amid the bustle of luggage carts and other voices.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” Mary asked Rose for at least the fifth time.

  Rose didn’t need any encouragement. She already jittered with excitement. For the first time in her life, she’d attend an art show. If her father could see her now, he’d be prouder than ever. She couldn’t wait to tell him all about it when she got back.

  The only thing that pulled her out of euphoria was Leroy. A man like him would never fit into this kind of world. Had he returned to Pearl Point? She hoped he had and that the rest of his life would be happy.

  Mary touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Rose replied quickly. She would have to do a better job at masking her feelings.

  A bellhop wearing a red jacket with gold buttons rushed over. When he took their bags, he smiled at Mary. He was a big man with dark hair and piercing green eyes. Something about him made Rose uncomfortable, but she had no idea why. Maybe she just wasn’t used to having servants wait on her. After all, he was white and she was not.

  “I think he fancies you,” she whispered in Mary’s ear.

  Mary wrinkled her nose. “How amusing.”

  Luckily, he wasn’t colored, Rose thought. If he was, Mary would probably cringe with fear. Leroy’s fit of anger on the school porch had given her nightmares a couple of nights this past week. Rose had to tell her fairy stories to get her back to sleep.

  After riding an elegant elevator, the bellhop led them to their rooms—one for Mrs. Carter and the second for Mary and Rose to share. To Mrs. Carter’s chagrin, they were side-by-side, but not adjoining.

  White French furniture and delicate pink florals decorated the shared room. A vase of fresh lilies even graced the dresser. Mary rushed to the floor-length window and gripped the velvet drape. Rose looked too. The cars on the street below were the size of toys and the muffled sounds of them barely penetrated the room. Excitement shot through her as she imagined flying out the window as if she were a bird.

  “We’re up so high.” Mary gripped her forehead. “I believe I’m dizzy.”

  Rose turned her away from the window. “Maybe you shouldn’t look.”

  “My name is Carl,” the bellhop said, closing the door. “Allow me to show you around your room.”

  Although Rose had never stayed in such an aristocratic hotel before, she had a distinct feeling the man acted strangely. After showing them the bathroom in unbelievable detail, he fluffed the pillows and ran his hands across the beds as if stroking a lover. The gesture reminded her of the way Leroy touched her.

  “And which bed will be yours, my dear?” he asked Mary. “I shall place your suitcase near it.”

  Mary giggled and her cheeks grew pink. “That’s really not necessary. Oh, all right, the window.”

  Rose shook her head. It was as if she didn’t exist. That was better than having her secret discovered, but
the man disturbed her the longer he remained in this room. Why didn’t Mary act uncomfortable?

  “And what is your name?” he asked Mary.

  “Mary Carter.”

  “Mary Carter.” He repeated her name, savoring each word as if it were a piece of candy. “If you should need anything at all during your stay, be sure to ask for Carl.”

  He hummed while he placed Mary’s suitcase near the foot of her bed. Rose’s mouth dropped open when he went so far as to open it.

  “You have such lovely things.”

  The sound of a polite cough turned their attention to the door where Mrs. Carter stood.

  “That will be quite all,” she told Carl, but after she handed him his tip, he didn’t move.

  “I said that will be all,” she repeated.

  He nodded in thanks and cast another glance at Mary before walking out. After he left, Mrs. Carter stared after him.

  “What an impertinent man,” she exclaimed. “I daresay he didn’t deserve to be tipped. I do wish we had adjoining rooms so I could watch over you girls more closely.”

  “I’m sure he’s harmless.” Mary began to unpack. “I suppose he can’t help being taken with me.”

  Rose’s mother touched her arm. “You must watch over her every minute, Rose.”

  “I will,” Rose replied.

  Mary had several good qualities, but strength wasn’t one of them.

  * * * * *

  “You each shall have a new gown,” Mrs. Carter declared as the women made their way through a sophisticated dress shop later that afternoon.

  Tired from their journey, the three of them had taken a nap, but Rose was too restless to sleep with so much to explore. The women walked on brick sidewalks along Charles Street, passing one upscale store after another that sold silver, jewelry and everything else a rich person could want. Rows of parked cars, including Packards like her father’s, lined both sides of the street.

  They entered a department store with multiple levels, an Italian exterior and huge windows. Slipping past long-limbed mannequins inside, Rose touched exquisite fabrics—silks, satins and lames—memorizing the play of light and shadow for a later painting. These modern dresses were so beautiful, flowing in long, undulating lines to the floor. Like the gown she’d worn to the summer dance, they were cut on the bias.