Tom's Angel

by Linda George

  The room nestled in near-darkness, with only faint moonlight illuminating the bed, tables, sideboard and chiffonier. He couldn't see her anywhere.

  “I'm here, Tom.”

  In bed. His heart pounded fiercely with the implication.

  “If you're too tired to talk tonight, we can wait until tomorrow.”

  “I've been waiting for you.”

  He went straight to the bed. His heart almost stopped at the sight of her lying in the moonlight, hair splayed across her pillow, the quilt draped across her chest exposing her shoulders—her naked shoulders—to view. She wasn't wearing night clothes.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her, as though she might be made of porcelain.

  “Rosalie, is this what I think it is?”

  “You asked me to marry you. I don't know for sure, but don't people who are betrothed make love before they're actually married?” She reached for his hand and pulled it under the covers.

  “Sometimes. I guess. I don't know. I guess. Maybe.” Blithering. Like a school boy peeking at girls swimming in the lake without their bloomers.

  “Don't you want to?”

  There was an odd sound in her voice... He couldn't quite make it out.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” After all her talk about being proper and the incident this afternoon, this just didn't add up. He leaned back, knowing he must be crazy, but it didn’t feel right.

  She clutched the sheet and quilt and tugged them up around her neck. “I'm sorry, Tom. I thought this would be the best way.”

  “The best way for what?”

  Dear God, how could she say it? She couldn't marry him and then have him discover her impurity when it was too late to back out. The only other way to tell him would be straight out. Oh, God, what would he think of her?

  “Rosalie, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong.”

  “I've been with a man before.”

  The statement shocked him to the core. In the moonlight, he realized she’d seen it in his eyes.

  “You talked about never lying to each other. I wasn't going to tell you, but I can't deceive you any longer.”

  “Whoa. I must be missing something here. Why don't you start over and tell me the whole story?” He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers.

  She started slowly at first, recounting as she had for Trina. She lay there motionless, speaking almost in monotone, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, hands limp over her heart. As the story progressed, and Tom could see where she headed, anger as hot as a branding iron seared its way through him, directed solely at Joe Tilly. How could anyone have played such a trick on a fourteen-year-old girl? Not a woman. Just a girl! She had no idea what was going on, what his intentions were, his deception, or the consequences of their actions.

  “Mama said I could never hold my head up among honorable women again. She said I had no future except the saloons. So I promised her I’d never again shame her. I’d be proper to my dying day.”

  “She didn't know you at all, did she?”

  Rosalie shook her head. “I guess not. I couldn't let you go on thinking you could actually marry me. You deserve a wife who's pure and virtuous. A wife who's never lain with another man like a whore from a dance hall.” She pressed her face into the pillow. “I won't blame you for walking away.”

  He couldn't stand the distance between them any longer. “Come here to me.” He pulled her into his arms. “Get it out of your system. Cry or scream or hit something. Hit me if you want to, but get rid of every last bit of it. It's all in the past, and that's where it's going to stay. Whatever happened before I met you has no place in the present, or in our future.”

  She couldn't believe she'd heard right. “Our future?”

  “Unless you've changed your mind about wanting to marry me, it's still our future. I love you. Nothing will ever change that. Certainly not a prank played by a no-good cowhand on a fourteen-year-old girl.”

  Rosalie buried her face in his shoulder and wept as she'd never allowed herself to weep before. For what was. For what could be. For the miraculous fact that Tom McCabe still loved her after knowing the worst. Trina had been right about her brother. It made no difference to him, except being sorry for what she'd suffered. That made Rosalie love him all the more.

  Tom tried to sooth her with his hands, rubbing big circles on her back. He kissed away her tears and embraced her tightly enough to convince her of his love. They still had a long, hard journey ahead of them, and he didn't know how it might turn out, or where they'd be at the end of it. He only knew they had to make the journey together.

  Rosalie finally felt the tears subsiding. At last, she’d relinquished the burden she'd carried for four long years. Knowing Trina had been right, that the time they spent together couldn't be shameful as long as they loved each other, Rosalie carefully unbuttoned Tom's shirt and ran her hands over his bare chest, the soft hair curling between her fingers. His smooth skin and strong muscles moved in and out with his ragged breathing. She whispered, “I want to feel your skin next to mine.”

  He, too, craved the feel of her body against his own, and allowed her to undress him to the waist.

  She reclined against the pillow, enticing him with her lips to kiss her again. She took full opportunity to learn every curve, to read the landscape of his chest and back with her fingers and hands.

  Tom responded as she'd hoped, their passion increasing. But then he pulled away, gathered her hands between his own and kissed them, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. Finally, he released a long sigh.

  “Don't you want to make love to me?” she asked quietly, terrified she'd done something wrong.

  “Of course. More than anything. But it can’t happen. Not tonight.”

  “It's something I've done, isn't it?”

  “Not at all. The pleasure will be ours when we're married. Not a minute before. I once promised to give you all the 'proper' you wanted. I suspect I'm going to have to live up to that promise now, even though it's the hardest thing I've ever done. The time will come for us to be joined as husband and wife. That’s when I’ll make love to you.”

  She ran her hands over his chest again, then pushed the sheet down and pressed herself against him. He'd never felt anything as wonderful in his life. She'd never known gentleness or tenderness. In many ways, she was still virginal, still completely naive when it came to being truly loved. Yet, she was a passionate woman, who felt embarrassed about that passion.

  Well, he'd just have to see to that. He intended to take care of her, to make sure no one ever hurt her again. When he asked her to be his wife, his commitment to her was absolute. There would be no backing away, no regression from the vows he'd already taken in his heart to be her husband, to love and cherish her all the days of his life. His goal, when they made love the first time, would be to convince her it was all right to feel passion, and to express it to her husband.

  “Someday, my sweet. I promise it won’t be too much longer.”

  Only Strickland remained.

  <><><><>

  Morning dawned clear and unusually warm, even for Fort Worth. Breakfast would be the last meal they'd all have together before everyone started home. At the table, Trina repeatedly gave Rosalie little glances easy to interpret as burning curiosity about what had transpired between her and Tom the night before, but Rosalie didn't respond or explain. She could see Trina's consternation building to the breaking point. Rosalie almost felt guilty, but Trina's reactions made the game fun, and fun was exactly what Rosalie needed this morning.

  Phillip pushed his plate back. “Mighty fine sausage and gravy, Marietta. And the biscuits were as light as I've ever eaten. You're a fine cook and a gracious lady to give the kitchen help the morning off.”

  “Thank you, kind sir.” Marietta glowed under her husband's praise. “They did double duty last night. I decided they deserved some time to themselves. Unfortunately, that means I'll need help cleaning up the dishes.”

&nb
sp; She did not lack for volunteers.

  When Rosalie started toward the kitchen, Marietta stopped her at the door. “I'll have plenty of help, dear. Why don't you spend a few more minutes with Trina and Gabriel? I suspect it could be a while before you'll have a chance to visit them again.”

  “Thank you. That pleases me more than you can imagine.”

  Marietta patted her hand in a motherly way. “And I sincerely hope we'll see you again, the next time Tom decides to visit us.”

  “I'll look forward to it. While we've been here, Tom has asked me to marry him, and I've said yes.”

  “Oh, my dear, I'm so proud for you! Everyone should know!”

  “No, please! For now, I'd rather share the news only with you, Trina and Gabriel.”

  “Of course. I couldn't be happier. When I write to Amos about this weekend, I'm going to tell him Tom couldn't have found a lovelier woman to choose as his helpmate.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, off with you. They'll have the dishes dry and in the cupboards before I ever get there.” She hugged Rosalie and hurried into the kitchen.

  Rosalie found Trina and Gabriel sitting in chairs on the porch, Hannah sucking happily at her breakfast beneath Trina's blouse. Tom leaned against one of the porch columns at the far end. When Rosalie came outside, his face lit up in a broad smile. “Finished already?”

  “Marietta suggested I use this time to visit before everyone has to leave. I do declare, that baby has already grown an inch since she was born.”

  “It won't be long before she's walking and talking.” Trina discreetly switched Hannah to the other breast.

  Rosalie slipped one arm around Tom's waist. “Shall we tell them our happy news?”

  “I didn't know for sure if you wanted anyone to know.”

  “Hell's bells, you have to tell us now!”

  Tom grinned. “Well, little sister, I'm not sure you're up to any more good news lately. New mothers tend to be so caught up in their babies, they don't have any room left for other people's good news.”

  Rosalie knew what Tom was doing and loved every second. She chimed in, “Yes, that's certainly true. Maybe we should get the new pram and take Hannah for a stroll after she finishes eating. Although, it's already rather warm for strolling, wouldn't you agree?”

  Hannah had fallen asleep, her mouth gone slack.

  “This baby needs to go inside, but I intend to hear your good news, Tom McCabe. If you think you can stall me any longer, you are sadly mistaken.” She handed Hannah to Gabriel.

  “I'll put her in the pram, but just to sleep, not to stroll. I have a feeling I know what this good news is going to be.”

  “Have you been telling Gabriel but not telling me? Rosalie, I thought we were best friends!”

  Rosalie laughed and marveled at how good it felt.

  Tom laughed, too. “See? What have I told you? She can't stand it.”

  Gabriel returned. “Still making her wait? I thought I was the master at stringing news out a mile.”

  “You could've learned it from my brother.” Trina stared at Tom and Rosalie for a moment. “After all this build-up, the news had better be what I'm expecting.”

  Tom hugged his sister affectionately. “We're going to be married.”

  Trina's reaction matched Rosalie's expectations. She whooped and clapped her hands, then enveloped Rosalie in her arms. “I'm so glad you're going to be my sister-in-law. I told you, didn't I? I had a feeling when I first saw you at the ranch, even before Tom had the idea himself, that you'd be a McCabe someday.”

  Rosalie hadn't tried her name with Tom's. “Rosalie McCabe. I like the sound of it, don't you?”

  They hugged again. Gabriel shook Tom's hand. “I guessed right, and I'm glad. Congratulations, Tom.”

  “Thanks, Gabriel. The next visit will be yours, to Denver.”

  “Just the minute Hannah can travel that far, you can count on it. We'll bring the bull.”

  Mentioning the bull brought back a whole wagonload of memories Tom preferred not to dwell on right now, so he changed the subject to choosing a date for the wedding. Trina monopolized the conversation, insisting on participating in the event.

  “Late spring would be best, of course, so you can have the ceremony in the garden. Gabriel and I will come in plenty of time to see that everything is perfect. What about June?”

  Rosalie squeezed Tom's hand. “Can we wait that long?”

  “Hell, no. The sooner the better. How about today? Marietta has a fancy garden.”

  Trina gave him a look that silenced his nonsense, then took over, listing everything that would have to be accomplished and declared June the best time. She commenced counting days on her fingers, trying to decide which day in June the first Sunday would be.

  Tom shook his head at his sister, then whispered to Rosalie, “We'll do this however you want it done. It's your wedding, not Trina's. She'll remember before long.”

  “It's all right,” Rosalie whispered back. “She's having fun. I wouldn't spoil that for the world.”

  <><><><>

  An hour later, buggies and carriages pulled out, one after the other, until only the five of them remained. Trina couldn't seem to bring herself to say good-bye again. Hannah, soundly asleep, rested in her father's arms, blowing milk bubbles through tiny lips.

  Trina drew Rosalie off to the side. “I know it's none of my business, Rosalie, but I'll shrivel up and die if you don't tell me.”

  “Not until we're married, Trina.” She felt her cheeks warming. “I offered, but Tom said he wanted to wait.”

  Trina's eyes rounded until Rosalie feared they might pop out of her face.

  “My brother? He actually said that?”

  “He wants everything to be entirely proper between us. It's a long story. Believe me, he couldn't have said anything to make me love him more.”

  Trina nodded. “Then that's the way it should be. We'll see you in the spring, then, for the wedding.”

  “There are some things we have to take care of first. We'll let you know when we choose the exact date.”

  “Of course.” Lightning flashed in Trina's eyes. “I have one more question. You don't have to answer if you'd rather not.”

  “What on earth could it be?”

  “Is my brother a good kisser?”

  Rosalie burst out laughing. What an imp! “Incredibly skillful. I couldn't imagine anyone kissing better.”

  “Well, Gabriel has always been exceptional at kissing. So we’re both lucky in that respect.

  <><><><>

  Everyone left the Mallory home after copious thanks and compliments had been expressed for the incredible weekend they'd spent, along with congratulations for Tom and Rosalie's engagement.

  In the buggy, Tom seemed preoccupied. Rosalie, too, felt pensive and almost guilty for confessing their plans to be married. In the light of reality, as the sun blazed down upon them and the temperature soared beyond the century mark, she knew they'd been play-acting in a way, pretending everything would turn out all right when facts pointed to a totally opposite conclusion.

  But Rosalie had grown used to disappointment and sorrow triumphing over success and happiness. Pretending had been fun and exciting. But now, the time had come to go home.

  They got into Fort Worth just before five o'clock. The hottest day yet in August, Rosalie knew without a doubt the temperature had reached at least a hundred and four. When Tom reined in at The Yellow Rose, Sadie came to the back door.

  No urgency colored her expression this time. Only profound sadness.

  Rosalie hurried down from the buggy. “Sadie, what's happened?”

  She stared at the ground for a moment, then back at Rosalie. “We found her yesterday morning. Lizzy drank a whole bottle of laudanum. She's dead.”

  Chapter 13

  “But she can't be! She was so much better! Looking forward to going to Denver...”

  Tom recalled the day they left, seeing the far-away expression in Lizzy's
eyes. She'd made up her mind even then. Her apparent serenity had come from the decision she'd made. To die. He wrapped his arms around Rosalie while Sadie explained what happened.

  “The doctor finally came by. He examined her hand and told her he couldn't fix it, that she'd never use it again. He left her a bottle of laudanum and told her to sip it whenever the pain got real bad. After he left, she fell asleep. In the morning, we found her dead, and the empty bottle under the covers.”

  Rosalie felt as though part of her had been ripped away. How could the doctor be so cruel? Yet, he'd told the truth. Perhaps they should have told her. In her heart, she knew it wouldn't have made any difference.

  “Where is she?”

  “We had to bury her yesterday, Rosie, right after we found her. With it so blasted hot, and...well, she'd been gone since before midnight. Your paw insisted we do it quick, before you got back. I wanted to send somebody to fetch you, but he wouldn't let me.”

  “He didn't want me to know?” The news stunned her.

  “I guess he thought it would be easier on you this way. I'm so sorry.”

  Rosalie's tears dried and her body tensed. Tom sensed this betrayal pained her almost as much as Lizzy's death.

  “Where is my father now?”

  “Don't know. We ain't seen him since yesterday. He...he didn't come to the funeral.”

  “Take me to where Lizzy is buried, please, Sadie.”

  “She's lying beside your mother.”

  Rosalie's stricken expression verified this, too, came as bad news.

  “Where is that?” Tom asked quietly.

  “I'll show you.” Sadie led the way to a small cemetery, overgrown with weeds, largely untended, behind an abandoned house. Rough crosses marked some of the graves. Others had only a pile of stones at the head. A pauper's grave yard.

  Tom shuddered. Without question, these graves lay on unhallowed ground.