by Linda George
“I heard him tell Mr. Mallory your father had changed his mind about buying the bull. He didn't mention anything more.”
Trina's brow wrinkled. “How odd. Without that bull...”
“Yes, I know.”
Trina brightened. “I'll get Gabriel to talk to him. When men have problems, they hate to talk about them to women, but they'll open up to another man in a minute. I'll let you know what I find out.” She winked and headed for the front room. Rosalie trailed along behind, just to observe Trina in action.
“Gabriel, could I speak to you for a minute?” she called through the din of eight men talking in three distinct groups, the smoke of after dinner cigars swirling about their heads.
Gabriel came to the door. “What is it?”
“Tom got a wire from Papa. It worried him.”
Gabriel frowned. “He hasn't said anything about it.”
“So, ask him about the wire. Please.” Trina brushed her hip against Gabriel's and smiled sweetly.
“Sorry. If Tom wanted me to know, he would've told me. It's his business, Trina. Not ours.”
“But, Gabriel—”
He kissed her forehead and went back to the front room.
“Hell's bells. That didn't get us very far, did it?”
“Maybe farther than you thought. Look.” Rosalie pointed discretely. Tom and Gabriel were going out the front door, onto the wide porch.
Trina squeezed Rosalie's elbow. “Come on. We have to hear this, too. Otherwise, I'll have to wrangle it out of Gabriel, one word at a time. He loves it when he knows something and I don't.”
Rosalie suspected he enjoyed every minute Trina suffered until she persuaded him to confess the secret. She followed Trina out the back door and around the house. They stopped just short of the porch and slipped in behind some golden junipers. Rosalie felt guilty, eavesdropping, but Trina's eyes were wide and full of mischief. They listened.
“So, Tom, tell me about this bull you're going to buy in Lubbock. How old is he?”
“Doesn't matter anymore. We aren't buying a bull, in Lubbock or anywhere else. I guess we're going to have to wait on you to have a bull calf you can spare.”
“I don't understand.”
Only silence for a moment.
“Richard Strickland has called in all of our notes, payable immediately, in full. No need to tell you, he didn't authorize a loan to buy a new bull.”
“Why?”
“His son, Zane, is back in jail in Fort Worth. Richard blames me, just as Zane does.”
“That's mighty poor luck.”
“Yeah. Not much I can do about it, either. Because he’s right. I had a lot to do with throwing his stinking carcass into a cell.”
Trina's face turned red with obvious anger. She started to move, but Rosalie grabbed her arm and gestured for her to be quiet and still. She didn't want Tom to know they'd been spying. Trina nodded stiffly. They listened again.
“Well, that calf is yours, Tom. In fact, just as soon as all my cows are pregnant, you can have the bull I'm using now. He's three years old, and I've been pleased with him. I'll put him on the train just the minute his job is done at my place, and he can serve double duty this year.”
“That's mighty generous of you, Gabriel. I'll tell Paw. I'm sure he'll be obliged to you, as I am.”
“Hell, we're family. We have to help each other.”
Trina burst from their hiding place into full view of the men on the porch.
“Who does Richard Strickland think he is, calling in Paw's notes like that?”
“God Almighty, Trina, what are you doing down there?” Gabriel glared at her. Rosalie stepped into the sunshine beside her. “Rosalie, too? Trina, before long, you'll have Rosalie turned into as big a sneak as you are.” He turned to Tom. “Trina talked her into it, you can bet your life.”
But Tom wasn't angry. Rosalie had a twig of juniper in her hair and squirmed as though she'd been caught in the honey pot with both hands and her mouth dripping. He allowed a slow grin to emerge.
“I know who put her up to it. I lived with that redhead a lot longer than you have, Gabriel.”
Trina stomped her way up onto the porch. “Never mind all that. What's to be done about Strickland and Paw's notes? Can he do that?”
“Yes, little sister, he can. It's only a month early, and we have the money waiting to pay him.” Tom offered his hand to Rosalie, coming up the steps.
“What are you talking about?” Trina brushed juniper twigs from her skirt.
“Next month, Zane is taking over as President of the Bank. We suspected he'd call in our notes and refuse to loan us what we need to buy that bull. The fact that he's talked his father into doing it now isn't that much of a surprise.”
“What are you going to do, Tom?” Gabriel draped one arm around Trina's shoulders. She put both arms around his middle and rested her head on his ribcage.
“I don't know. I guess we'll figure it out once I get back to Denver.” He took Rosalie's hand. “We're going to have to get Lizzy ready to travel a little earlier than expected.”
Rosalie nodded, then explained to Trina and Gabriel about Elizabeth and the second chance Tom had offered.
“That's my big brother, all right. Don't you worry about this business with the bull. There hasn't been a Strickland born who can tangle with the McCabes and come out standing.”
Tom grinned at his sister. “I hope you're right.”
<><><><>
They spent the afternoon in pleasant conversation until the ladies decided to have a nap before dinner. Marietta announced that the dance would go on until midnight.
Upstairs, Rosalie took off her dress and hung it carefully in the wardrobe, then splashed her face and arms with water from a blue porcelain pitcher and bowl on the chiffonier. The breeze coming through the window felt hot, so she closed the curtains and lay down on the bed to rest.
A soft knock at the door sent her scrambling for something to wear.
“Just a minute!”
In the wardrobe, she found a dressing gown and pulled it on. Marietta would surely forgive her for borrowing it. She opened the door and found Tom.
“May I come in?”
“I'm not dressed.”
“I'll close my eyes, if you insist. I need to talk to you.”
“Very well. Come in.” She pushed the door almost shut, but didn't let it latch.
“Please don't mention the notes or anything about the bull to Phillip Mallory.”
“I had no intention of repeating a word of it to anyone.”
“I know. But Phillip is a persuasive man. He can have you telling him your darkest secrets if you aren't careful.”
Darkest secrets. The words made her tremble. “Couldn't he be of help to your father?”
“Yes, I'm sure he could. But Paw is a proud man, and as stubborn as they come. He won't ask for Phillip's help unless there's no alternative.”
“I understand. I'll be on my guard. Have you spoken to Trina?”
“Not yet, but I will. she's the one with the big mouth. I didn't expect you to blab the McCabe business like she does sometimes.”
He turned to go. “By the way, as pretty as you looked in that blue dress, you're incredibly beautiful without all those clothes.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
“I don't suppose I could have one kiss, since I'm here?”
“I don't see why not.”
He pushed the door completely closed, the click of the latch resounding through the room. Two steps, and his arms closed around her.
Rosalie caught her breath at the thought of Tom seeing her in nothing but a chemise and a thin dressing gown.
Tom could feel the heat of her body through the flimsy gown. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman. Would she push him away again?
She knew she should make him leave, but his hands, working their magic on her, blotted all sensibility from her mind. Dizzy with desire, she inched backward until she touched the
bed, then sat down slowly, carefully, coaxing him to sit beside her.
Tom stretched out behind her on the bed, massaging her back, pulling gently at her waist until she pivoted and lay down beside him, face to face. He kissed her cheeks, eyes, her neck and finally her lips, teasing her deliciously while his fingers trailed down her neck to her shoulder, across her collar bones to the hollow at the base of her throat, and then to her side and down.
Rosalie backed away enough for him to open his eyes wide, questioning what she was thinking and wanting from him.
She opened the front of her dressing gown, pushed it away, then reached for the bottom edge of the camisole. There, she hesitated. Should she take it off? What would happen if she did? She knew exactly what would happen. But should she allow it? She could hardly take a deep breath. Her breasts rose and fell with the increased beat of her heart.
Bare skin. His hand lay on her bare side, his fingers kneading her slender waist. Inching upward, his hand carried the camisole along until, in a few seconds, her breasts would be exposed in the dim, curtain-filtered light.
“Tom…”
He removed his hand and stroked her neck, then kissed her again, softly, urgently. He trailed kisses along her cheek until his lips hovered near her ear, kissing, sucking her earlobe into his mouth, his tongue soft and alive, his breath causing tingles and shivers while his hands trailed down her back, then around to resume the path upward, beneath the camisole.
“Tom, we can't.”
“I know. We won't. I just want to give you pleasure.”
Tom reminded himself to go slowly. He must not frighten her. She’d decided to allow him these intimacies with her. He knew the struggle she must be going through, wondering how far they should go. He couldn't have her feeling guilty afterward.
“Tom, I'm not sure.”
He stopped, but didn't withdraw his hand. “Do you want me to stop?”
“I should. But I don't. How can I decide?”
Never taking his eyes off hers, he pushed the camisole upward until his hand found the swell of her breast and closed around it.
Her eyes widened, then closed, her lips open slightly, her breaths getting deeper, her face flushed. He knew to go slowly, to give her time to adjust to the touch of a man on her bare skin. When he moved his hand to her other breast, she sighed, obviously loving this new experience as much as he loved giving it to her.
Rosalie didn't know if she should laugh or cry, so she lay there in his arms, reveling in his desire to pleasure her. With their futures so uncertain, she decided to embrace the pleasure, and to cherish their time together. In spite of all her resolve, she'd lost her determination to remain proper in his eyes. If she encouraged him to complete this act of love, he would discover her impurity for himself. Would he want her after he knew? Dear God, why had she been so weak? She turned her head and tears ran down her face and soaked into the pillow.
“Rosalie, what's wrong?”
She shook her head, unable to speak.
“I'm sorry. I thought you wanted this as much as I do.”
She nodded. “I do.”
“Then why the tears? Is it because you feel you're betrothed? If that's what you're thinking, you’re mistaken. There's no way I'll ever let him near you again. You hear me?”
She saw anguish in his eyes. “Tom, it isn't that. There’s something you don’t know about me.”
“It doesn't matter. We’ll have all the time in the world to get to know each other.” He kissed her again, tasting her tears. “I love you. I think you might love me, too.”
“I do love you. That only makes it worse.”
He peered into her eyes, trying to understand.
“You have to go now.”
“Not until you tell me what this is all about.”
She pulled the dressing gown across her breasts and closed her eyes. She wanted to tell him the truth, but she couldn’t bear it if he stopped loving her once he knew.
After a long moment, he got up from the bed and left the room.
Chapter 11
All the guests were gathering, dressed in their finest for dinner and the dance to follow. Tom scanned the room again, hoping to see her, yet knowing why she'd chosen not to come downstairs.
Trina laced her way through the room. She wore a royal blue dress that shone like firecrackers under the gasoliers.
“Where's Rosalie?”
Tom shook his head. “Don't guess she's hungry.”
“Did you two have a fight?”
“I guess you could call it that. I don't know what's wrong, Trina.”
“Try not to worry. I'll talk to her. Women go through moods.”
“Yeah. Moods.” Only this was more than a mood. He'd gone too fast, dammit. Asked more from her than she was ready to give. Yet, at the time, she seemed perfectly willing. He knew he’d given her pleasure. The reaction in his own body now, at the memory, emphasized the pleasure they'd both felt. So, what happened? He watched Trina climb the stairs. Maybe she'd find out. Hell, if she couldn't wrangle the truth out of Rosalie, no one could.
Gabriel pushed through the tangle of guests. “Something wrong with Rosalie?”
“Trina's gone to find out.”
Tom needed to talk to someone. Similarities in the way Gabriel had met Trina, and the way Tom met Rosalie, suggested Gabriel might cast some light on the problems at hand.
“Let's go outside for a minute. I want to ask you something.”
On the veranda, they sat in chairs next to a rock wall. The hot late afternoon wind had diminished until now only a warm breeze remained.
“Gabriel, I apologize ahead of time for being blunt, but I need some advice.”
“Sounds serious. No need to apologize. Just spit it out.”
“You and Trina were intimate before you married.”
“Yep.”
“Did you know, the first time, that you were going to marry her?”
Gabriel didn't answer for a minute. “I knew then that I wanted to marry her. I didn't know if I'd live to do it or not, though.”
“Because of Blackburn.”
“Yep. I think I know what you're getting at, Tom. You love Rosalie but you don't know yet if you’ll have the chance to marry her. Or if she’ll say yes if you ask her. Is that it?”
“Yep.”
“Things are getting serious between you. I won't ask how serious, because it's none of my business, but I suspect you've come to the point of not knowing whether to proceed or to back off. Am I right?”
Tom released a long sigh. “You're right. The problem isn't with what we want, it's with Rosalie's mother.”
“You've lost me.”
Tom told him about Rose Kincannon's wish for Rosalie to be “proper,” and not to make the mistakes Lizzy had made. “So, Rosalie feels she'll betray her mother if we let our feelings get the best of us.”
“I understand. Seems to me, Tom, you have to ask yourself a hard question.”
“What's that?”
“How much do you love her?”
“More than I can put into words.”
“Enough to want to live the rest of your life with her?”
“I think so.”
“You'd best be sure. There was a time, when I first met your sister, I just wanted her to go away and leave me alone. She was like a mosquito, always buzzing in my ear, drawing blood at times. I told her I couldn’t commit myself to her until I’d settled things with Blackburn. She still didn't go away, and I'm glad, but, at the time, she was nothing but a pest. Have you felt that way about Rosalie?”
“Never. The first time I met her, she filled me up, just like pouring water into a pitcher, all the way to the rim. Cool water, on a hot day.”
Gabriel smiled. “I think you've answered your own question. No one can tell you what to do. You have to make this decision on your own.” He stood, stretched his back, then gazed over the honeysuckle vines on the wall toward the range beyond. “In this country, having a woman you love
makes life worth living. I can't imagine living without Trina and Hannah. Life wouldn't be worth two cents alone. Maybe you ought to reflect on going home without Rosalie, never seeing her again, and see how that makes you feel.”
“Empty. That's how it feels.”
“Now, picture going to bed with her every night and waking up next to her in the mornings, with her hair scattered all over the pillow, and sometimes into your face, and what it would be like to see her heavy with your child. Your answer won't be long coming, is my guess.”
Tom nodded, lost in the images swirling through his mind.
“Thanks, Gabriel.”
“I hope Trina was able to get Rosalie settled. I'm hungry enough to eat a cow raw. Almost.”
They went back inside.
Tonight. He'd ask her tonight.
<><><><>
A knock at the door followed by Trina's voice woke Rosalie.
“May I come in?”
She sat on the side of the bed, pulled the dressing gown around her, then went to the door.
“Rosalie, what's the matter? Are you sick? Have you begun your monthly miseries?”
“Nothing like that. I'm just not hungry, that's all.”
“But you have to come down to dinner. Have you forgotten about the dance?”
“I didn't forget. I'm not going to the dance.”
Trina's expression hardened. “Tell me what he did.”
“Who?” As though she had to ask.
“My brother. He must have done or said something he shouldn't have.”
Rosalie tried to smile at Trina's indignant expression, but the attempt dissolved into one raspy sob.
“Oh, honey, tell me what happened. Please.”
They sat together on the bed, just as they had at Trina's home, holding each other.
“I love him, Trina.”
Brightening, Trina hugged her tighter. “Have you just now realized it? I knew it the moment I set eyes on the two of you. Of course Tom had no idea of it then, and neither did you. But I could see what was about to happen. Is that why you're crying? You're in love?”
“He says he loves me, too.”
Trina laughed. “Well, then you really do have troubles, don't you?”