Sweet Forever

by Ramona K. Cecil

She’d played only two quadrilles when Jacob appeared beside the piano with Edwin’s sister, Edith.

  “I’d like very much to speak with you.”

  The seriousness of his expression both puzzled and troubled Rosaleen.

  “I—I need to begin the serenades. Sophie expects—”

  “Edith will take over.” He clasped Rosaleen’s hand in his, urging her up.

  Edwin’s twin sister settled herself in front of the piano, her sage green silk skirt rustling as she arranged it around the stool.

  “Are you sure?” Rosaleen asked, bewildered as he led her across the parlor. She glanced back at the piano where Edith had begun playing the serenade “Come, the Moon Plays on the Roses.” She didn’t like thinking she was shirking her duty.

  “I’m sure.” He slipped his arm around her waist, guiding her toward the French doors that opened to the back veranda.

  The boughs of the giant ash tree swayed in the gentle evening breeze, caressing the veranda with soft shadows. The fragrance of honeysuckle and roses hung heavily on the night air. “Rosaleen,” he whispered her name as he took her hands into his.

  Rosaleen’s hammering heart glowed like the pale moon-beams shimmering across the dusky ribbon of the Ohio River.

  His lips lifted in that familiar quirk of a smile so dear to her. “As lovely as that gown is, it lacks something.” He reached into his vest pocket.

  Flabbergasted, she gazed with widening eyes at the object in his open palm. “My brooch!” she blurted. “But I thought Alistair—”

  “I bought it from him.”

  “But how?” Her mind spun. Alistair had wanted that brooch for a long time. He wouldn’t have sold it cheaply. Had Jacob taken out a separate loan with Mr. Stinnett?

  Suddenly, Rosaleen remembered Jacob’s savings, and she emitted a soft gasp. His face blurred through her tears. “Oh, Jacob, no—not your bell money.”

  “This means more to me. You mean more to me than any bell, any building, anything else on the face of this earth.”

  Accepting the brooch, she stared at him mutely then caught her breath as he slowly sank to one knee before her.

  “I know I don’t deserve you.” He lifted his tear-streaked face to hers. “I’m a wretched, sinful man, who has no right to ask for the love of a heart as pure as yours. Yet I do—I must. I cannot bear to contemplate a life devoid of your presence. I pray you can find it in your sweet heart to forgive my grievous trespasses against you.”

  His blue eyes brimmed with remorse, and his voice palpitated with agony. “Nor do I have the right to ask you to give up your dream of traveling to New York. But if you can love me even a little, please say you’ll stay in Madison and be my wife.”

  Rosaleen’s heart pulsed with joy. Now she understood Sophie’s peculiar comments. She must have been aware of Jacob’s plans. Happy tears slid down her cheeks.

  Oh, thank You, God! Thank You for answering Patsey’s prayers. Prayers she realized she’d been too afraid to pray for herself. Oh God, You are so wonderfully good, so loving and merciful.

  “I shall kneel here before you in petition until you give me an answer one way or another, or until Roscoe Stinnett throws me off his veranda.”

  Rosaleen felt a little laugh shake through a happy sob. Stunned by the unexpected events, she realized she’d left her darling still on his knees, his question unanswered. “Yes, oh yes, Jacob. I’ve never stopped loving you. Never.”

  Rising, he pulled her into his arms, smothering her tear-drenched words with his kisses.

  The ball passed in a blurred whirl for Rosaleen. Jacob followed Sophie and Edwin’s engagement announcement with his and Rosaleen’s.

  He kept Rosaleen from the piano for the remainder of the evening. They danced to quadrilles and serenades between congratulatory handshakes, hugs, and kisses by all present. To Rosaleen’s amazement, even Roscoe Stinnett wished her well and offered her a kiss on the cheek and a belated welcome to Madison.

  “Rosaleen, I’m so thrilled to be getting you for a sister.” Becky Morgan gave her an excited hug. “We must make a date to go shopping for material for your wedding dress. Jacob is determined that your wedding be the first in the new church, so time is short.”

  Even as her heart soared on the winds of her beautiful dream come true, Rosaleen beat back an intangible fear. No, this time her future was secure. No evil could snatch it away.

  ❧

  It had been the better part of a week since the engagement ball, and Rosaleen still felt as if her feet had not touched ground.

  Roscoe Stinnett hired a crew of carpenters to complete the church. However, Jacob, insisting that everything be perfect for their special day, spent every spare moment at the church, adding finishing touches of his own.

  They’d agreed to a wedding date three weeks away. Rosaleen, also feeling the pressure of limited time, was thankful for Becky Morgan’s offer of help.

  In the boardinghouse’s front hallway, Rosaleen hesitated at the front door. “Are you sure it’s all right for me to leave this morning, Opal?” Feeling a little guilty, Rosaleen tied the ribbons of her gray silk bonnet beneath her chin. “I hate to leave you shorthanded on washday with two new boarders.”

  Opal snorted. “The day Patsey and I can’t handle a washing and two salesmen is the day I shut down the boardinghouse! You run along now and let Mrs. Morgan help you pick out something special for your wedding dress.”

  As she neared the Fitch & Williams dry goods store, Rosaleen fingered her brooch pinned at the bodice of the green-sprigged muslin frock. Remembering Jacob’s sacrifice, she felt warmth suffuse her heart. She smiled. Thanks to Edwin Applegate’s persuasion, his father had offered to buy the bell for the church. It was just one more blessing in a bountiful harvest of God’s blessings.

  She gazed down Main-Cross Street. Becky Morgan had said she would need to get a widowed neighbor lady to sit with the children and might be a few minutes late.

  “Well, well, it seems I’ve found you at last.”

  Rosaleen’s heart lurched at the quiet voice behind her. An icy chill shot through her, and she whirled to face her nightmare.

  Twenty-two

  Willing her voice to steadiness, Rosaleen tried not to focus on Bill McGurty’s beady black eyes. “This is my home now. I’m never going back to the riverboats.”

  “Is that so?” His slow grin looked terrifyingly self-assured. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

  She shivered as he tapped the silver tip of his ever-present ebony cane on the boardwalk. Many times she’d felt the sting of it against her flesh.

  Hitching up her courage, she realized he could not hurt her here. He wouldn’t dare try to abduct her in broad daylight on Main-Cross Street. “Yes, that is so. I’m engaged to be married and will be staying here in Madison.”

  “I heard.” The quiet, congenial tone of his voice made it all the more frightening. “A young reverend, I understand.” The sarcastic snort that followed this disclosure infuriated her. “My, my! What would he think if he knew—”

  “Jacob knows everything!” Oh Jesus, help me. Give me courage. Rosaleen raised her chin in defiance. “You cannot intimidate me or drag me back to the riverboats!”

  At his laughter, fear and anger mingled within her.

  “My dear Rosaleen, who said anything about dragging you back? No, no, my dear”—he reached out and with a crooked finger, caught a strand of her hair that had escaped her bonnet—“I’m sure I can persuade you to come of your own accord.”

  Instinctively, she turned her head away and shrank from his touch. But then, swinging back to face him squarely, she glared at his confident smirk. Shaking with fury, she nearly spat her reply. “Nothing you could say or do would ever convince me to leave Jacob!”

  “Jacob? Oh, you mean that nice-looking, blond young man I saw working alone on that church building on the corner of Broadway and Second Streets?”

  “How do you know that?” she asked in a raspy whisper, panic robbing her
of breath.

  “Ask the right questions, and folk are always eager to help.” His demeanor switched to a far more malicious posture. “It would be a real shame if anything bad were to happen to that young man,” he said with a sneer. “I’ve looked too long and hard to simply turn on my heel and go back to the James Seymour without you!” His manicured fingers bit into her wrist. “Without a groom, you’ll not be a bride. I killed your first husband in order to have you. Don’t think for a second I wouldn’t do it again and not twitch an eyelid!”

  A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at his revelation. She’d had no idea Bill had planned to kill Donovan before he ever sat down at that gambling table.

  The sun glinted off the silver pocket watch he pulled from his scarlet brocade vest. “The James Seymour leaves Madison at five o’clock this evening. Be in front of the Madison Hotel in a half hour’s time, or Jacob Hale will meet the same fate as Donovan Archer.”

  She didn’t doubt it for an instant. In dismay, she heard the defeat-laden words drop from her lips. “I’ll be there.”

  All thoughts of Becky Morgan and their morning of shopping were swept away in a tempest of mind-numbing terror.

  Rosaleen hurried down Mulberry Street toward the boarding-house, cold fingers of fear tingling down her spine. Alarm consumed her. Bill knew exactly where Jacob was, and that he was alone.

  Her mind raced. Patsey had said Andrew would be working on a masonry job near Hanover for the next several days. Even if she could get word to him, she’d only be putting him in danger as well. If she attempted to alert the sheriff, Bill might very well see her, kill Jacob, and slip away onto any number of steamboats or ferries leaving the Madison shore.

  No. Jacob’s only hope was for her to obey Bill.

  Nearing the boardinghouse, she prayed she could get what she needed and leave without being noticed. She glanced behind the garden where newly washed sheets flapped and billowed in the breeze. The sound of Opal and Patsey’s laughing chatter gave her a measure of hope.

  She entered the front as quietly as possible, grimacing when the front doorbell emitted a tiny jingle. Hiking her skirt to her knees, she took the stairs two steps at a time.

  Panting, she stumbled into her little attic room. Her hands shook as she rolled up the few frocks she owned and stuffed them into the leather portmanteau she’d bought at King and Brothers before the engagement ball. Reaching into the mattress, she grasped the remainder of her money and tucked it into the folds of her rose ball gown. She picked up the little Bible Jacob had given her and pressed it for a second to her heart before dropping it into the portmanteau.

  Leaving, Rosaleen paused at the doorway, allowing her gaze to sweep the little room that had been her haven for the better part of four months. Bereft, she quietly closed the door and headed downstairs.

  In the parlor, she went to Jacob’s desk and took a sheet of paper from the stack he used to pen his sermons. Drawing a deep, ragged breath, she dipped the quill into the inkwell and forced her trembling hand to stillness.

  Oh God, forgive me for the lie and let him believe this. Please, just let him believe this.

  The scribbled words of her good-bye note blurred, and she sniffed back tears. She started to sign it “Love, Rosaleen,” then scratched out the word “Love,” and simply signed it “Rosaleen.”

  Out on Mulberry Street, she turned for one last, fond look at the boardinghouse. Oh God, just let me get away unseen, and please, please protect Jacob!

  Numb, she clutched the portmanteau and hurried up Mulberry, praying she could reach the Madison Hotel without running into Becky Morgan.

  She fought to push from her mind images of what awaited her. There’d be plenty of time later to deal with the grief of her loss and the terror of Bill McGurty. Keeping Jacob safe was all that mattered now.

  ❧

  The bottom of the oilcan popped beneath Jacob’s thumb as he lubricated the last of the church doors’ hinges. Assuring himself that the two oak doors worked perfectly, he opened and shut them several times.

  He descended the four stone steps. His heart skipped with his feet as his hand slid along the wrought-iron railing. A few paces from the building, he turned to gaze at his dream, now a reality.

  The redbrick church stood like a stalwart sentry looking down on the Ohio. The gleaming white cross atop the belfry would be visible to those passing on the river as well as from the Kentucky side. Thanks to the Applegates’ generous hundred-dollar donation, the five-hundred-pound bell should be arriving next week from Cincinnati’s Verdin Bell Company.

  “Well, there it is, Orville.” He glanced down at his friend’s gravestone. “I hope it is everything you dreamed of.”

  A stiff river breeze brushed the gold-tinged willow branches against the headstone as if in nodding agreement.

  “With God’s help, I will work tirelessly to fill it, Orville. I promise.” The smile spreading over his face reached all the way to the center of his heart. “I won’t be alone in my work. I will soon have a wife to help me. I only wish you could have been here for my wedding.” A sweet sadness tempered his joy. “You’d have loved Rosaleen,” he whispered. “Her heart is as beautiful as her face, and she loves the Lord.” He grinned down at Orville’s marker. “The true miracle is that she says she loves me, too.”

  Walking down Mulberry Street, Jacob could not stop smiling. He knew Rosaleen had planned a day of shopping with Becky. His pace quickened, eager to learn of her day and share with her all he’d accomplished at the church.

  When he entered the boardinghouse parlor, the look of sadness on Opal Buchanan’s face wiped the smile off his.

  “Opal, what is it?” Fear tightened around his chest like an iron band. Had something happened to baby Adam, Andrew, or Patsey? Just then, he heard the baby’s normal cry. Through the parlor doorway, he caught a glimpse of Patsey carrying Adam. Whispering soothing hushes, she headed upstairs with the infant.

  “Oh Jacob, I’m so sorry.” Opal held out a page of his letter paper that trembled in her hand.

  “Rosaleen? Has something happened to Rosaleen?” Frantic, he rushed to the woman’s side and snatched the paper from her hand, terror twisting his insides.

  “I didn’t want you to find it alone.” Opal sank limply to the sofa.

  Jacob had to read the terse missive three times over before his mind would assimilate its meaning. At last, he dropped numbly to the settee. Yet he could not budge his gaze from the unbelievable words that continued to rip at his shredded heart.

  Jacob,

  I’ve come to realize that I cannot marry you after all but must follow my dream and journey on to New York. Please forgive me, and do not try to find me.

  Rosaleen

  His voice cracking, he raised his face to Opal’s tear-streaked one. “Did she say anything to you—tell you why?”

  “No, not a hint.” Opal’s befuddled voice shook. “She left this morning to go shopping with your sister, and I never saw her again. Patsey and I spent the entire morning behind the garden doing the laundry. When Rosaleen didn’t return by noon, I began to wonder but figured they’d gone on to Becky’s house.”

  “Becky must know something.” With unsteady fingers, he folded the note and tucked it inside his shirt next to his heart. Though these few words had shattered his life, they were all he had left of Rosaleen. So in that, they were precious.

  In a daze, he walked the distance from the boardinghouse to Becky’s home.

  Could everything have been an act? The thought was indescribably excruciating. His mind would not accept it. His heart would not accept it. God help me. Show me what to do. She wouldn’t have done this. Something is wrong! Something is terribly wrong!

  He pounded at his sister’s front door with both fists.

  The door eased open, revealing his sister’s perturbed face. “Jacob, please! You don’t have to knock down the door. Lucy is sleeping.”

  “What happened with you and Rosaleen today?” Ignoring
Becky’s admonishment, he strode past her into the front hall.

  “Nothing.” His sister’s face held a bewildered blankness. “She never showed up. I was late arriving at Fitch & Williams. Mrs. Pearson wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t watch Daniel and Lucy, so I had to take them with me.”

  “She’s gone.” Somehow he managed to squeeze the painful words from his throat.

  “You can’t mean gone. Surely there’s been a misunderstanding.”

  “Does this look like a misunderstanding?” He pulled Rosaleen’s note from his shirt and handed it to his sister.

  “Oh, Jacob, I can’t believe she’d do this.” Becky raised a baffled gaze from the paper in her hand. “She seemed so exited about your wedding—about staying here.”

  “I don’t think she wanted to go.” Daniel’s small voice intruded from the bottom of the stairway.

  Jacob and Becky turned to the boy, who stood looking down at his dusty shoes.

  Rushing to his nephew, Jacob grasped the boy’s shoulders. “Daniel, what do you mean? Did you see Rosaleen today?” He tried to calm his racing heart. The child might only want attention. It could mean nothing. It could mean everything.

  “I—I. . .” Daniel stammered, his dark eyes large with fear.

  “Daniel!” Jacob nearly shouted in frustration.

  “Jacob, you’re scaring him.” Becky’s quiet voice and hand on his arm flooded Jacob with remorse.

  “I’m sorry, Daniel.” Kneeling beside his nephew, Jacob brushed the tears from the child’s face. “Please, Daniel, I need to find Rosaleen. If you know anything, please tell me. Have you seen her today?”

  Daniel nodded.

  “Where?” It took all Jacob’s strength to keep his voice calm.

  “In front of the Madison Hotel,” Daniel mumbled, dropping his gaze to his shoes again. “I saw her when me and Nate Ross went to the confectionary down by the carriage company.”

  “Daniel, it’s ‘Nate and I,’ ” Becky corrected her son’s grammar, “and you know your father and I don’t want you near that hotel alone!”