My Valentine

by Sheridon Smythe

  A faint echo of sound drifted upstairs. That would be the Mrs. Oland, the cook, Rosalyn thought, preparing breakfast in the big kitchen. With the lure of hot coffee and fresh biscuits urging her on, Rosalyn buttoned her robe and went downstairs. At this hour, she would probably breakfast alone, but soon she would have to awaken Alice so they could get an early start on the long day ahead.

  As she approached the kitchen with the intention of breakfasting there, where it was sure to be warmest, Rosalyn heard muted voices. She stopped in the doorway, quickly hiding her surprise at the sight of Miss Howland already up and dressed and chatting with the cook. Delighted with the thought that she wouldn't be alone, Rosalyn greeted the two women, startling them into silence.

  Miss Howland waved her to the table with a good-natured smile. “Rosalyn, good morning! I wasn't expecting you up this early after that exhausting day you had yesterday. Why don't we sit in here where it's warm? I'm afraid the dining room's still a bit chilly."

  "You read my mind.” Rosalyn accepted a steaming cup of coffee from the cook, smiling gratefully. The delicious aroma of frying bacon mingled with the scent of coffee and cinnamon laced biscuits that were Mrs. Oland's speciality. Rosalyn took a seat at the table and Miss Howland sat across from her.

  "Are you ready for the most demanding day of all?” Miss Howland inquired, spooning a generous amount of warm honey into her coffee.

  Rosalyn nodded. “Yes, I am. I'm looking forward to it, actually. Alice is a big help.” She didn't know how she could have managed without the energetic red-head. Surprisingly, Alice had turned out to be quite a charmer. With this in mind, Rosalyn hinted, “Alice would make an excellent replacement when I start college in the spring."

  "Oh, I'd nearly forgotten. Hmmmm. I'll have to keep your recommendation in mind.” Miss Howland stirred her coffee and took a cautious sip. “I've arranged a special carriage for you and Alice today, and Jamy has agreed to keep the carriage filled with hot bricks to warm your feet. He can change them out each time your return to the factory."

  "Thank you!” The idea of warming her feet cheered her—one of life's simple pleasures. “Jamy's recovered nicely, hasn't he?"

  Miss Howland made an affirmative sound in her throat. “Thanks to that kind Mr. Garret ... and the generous hearts of the workshop crew."

  Rosalyn froze, not daring to look at Miss Howland. Silently, she pleaded for Miss Howland to change the subject.

  "You knew he bought the old paper mill, didn't you?"

  She couldn't get so lucky. Finding her coffee cup very interesting, Rosalyn attempted to sound disinterested. “Who? Oh, you mean Mr. Garret. Yes, I heard.” What else was there to say? She couldn't ignore her employer, or ask her to not speak of him. But drats, each time she mentioned Christian it was like an arrow burying itself deeper into her heart.

  Cupid's arrow. The thought popped up out of nowhere. Cupid's arrow ... of course. But it wasn't fair, because she was supposed to be Cupid. Why didn't her arrow aim true?

  "And how is the history coming along?"

  Definitely snooping, Rosalyn decided with an inward groan. It was so unlike Miss Howland to pry, which meant she must know something about her and Christian. Gossip? Truth? Lies? And who told her? Alice? Christian himself? Willis? She wasn't being reasonable, she supposed, since practically everyone in town knew they'd been spending a lot of time together—including Miss Howland.

  They hadn't been exactly discreet. Dear God, she prayed Miss Howland hadn't found out about her going to the hotel alone to see Christian.

  Or just how much she had seen of Christian!

  Rosalyn lifted her cup to hide the tell-tale heat in her face. There was no way Miss Howland could know. She shrugged, feeling like a fraud. “Mr. Garret's been busy with other projects lately. I haven't seen much of him in the past few days.” Not since she had told him goodbye for the last time.

  "Do you suppose he'll stay, now that he's bought the mill?"

  Before she could think, Rosalyn glanced sharply at Miss Howland, searching for signs of subterfuge. She saw nothing but sweet innocence.... and maybe—just maybe—a flicker of amusement in the serene blue eyes. “I-I don't know. H-he hasn't mentioned the matter to me.” How she wished he had! She dropped her gaze to the safety of her cup and curled her fingers around the warm china. Was Miss Howland hinting, or not? And why would she be amused? Rosalyn would expect pity ... not amusement.

  "Maybe he'll settle down, find a nice young woman to marry right here in Worcester,” Miss Howland said.

  Rosalyn gasped and coughed, imagining the horror of Christian in the arms of another, married to another and living right beneath her nose. Oh, she couldn't bear it, not for a moment. She'd move away. She'd catch the next coach out of town. She'd—

  She'd just die.

  Pushing back her chair, Rosalyn got to her feet. If there were tears in her eyes, she could honestly blame them on the coffee. She forced her lips into a smile as she looked at Miss Howland. “I'd better get dressed."

  "What about breakfast?"

  "I-I'm too nervous to eat,” Rosalyn stammered truthfully.

  Miss Howland blinked. “Well, wake Alice, will you?"

  With a nod—which was all she could manage, Rosalyn started from the kitchen.

  "And wear the red dress with the white hearts today. With your dark hair coloring and creamy skin, you'll blind them. You and Alice will want to look your very best, won't you? No telling who you might run into today."

  Rosalyn had reached the doorway, but Miss Howland's last seemingly innocent comment stopped her. She didn't dare turn around. What could she mean? She waited, her heart thundering in her chest, wondering if she imagined the subtle message. Was Miss Howland match-making?

  It had to be. It was the only explanation she could think of. "No telling who you might run into today."

  Please God, don't let it be Christian.

  When nothing else was forthcoming from Miss Howland, Rosalyn continued slowly in the direction of the stairs, her heart still thumping a painful beat. If Miss Howland was playing Cupid in the hopes of making a match between Christian and herself, then she was in for a big disappointment.

  Rosalyn sympathized.

  * * * *

  By mid-morning, Christian had finished his business for the day. His next stop was the valentine factory, and after that, hopefully the church.

  Miss Howland greeted him as he entered the shop, shaking a fine dusting of snow from his coat and hat. “It's too beautiful a sight to complain about, isn't it?” He smiled, feeling on top of the world today. Happier than he ever remembered being. The mill would open on schedule, and Tiber had become a changed man. Nearly all of the original workers had been more than willing to come back to work, including Mr. Dillon.

  Jamy, his mother, and his sisters were snug and happy.

  He'd discussed a new development of low-payment housing with Mr. Toombs, and they were negotiating the purchase of land in Jamy's old neighborhood. The deal looked promising.

  Yes, life was grand, today was Valentine's Day, and romance was in the air.

  Christian's steps faltered as he approached Miss Howland, who was filling in for Alice. She waited behind the counter, watching him with a curious twinkle in her eye.

  Suppose he was wrong about Rosalyn? She had said she loved him ... but what if she had spoken the words in the throes of passion, and now regretted them?

  More doubts assailed him. What if she had changed her mind—met someone else in the days passed when he was occupied elsewhere?

  "Mr. Garret...?"

  Miss Howland's questioning voice snapped Christian out of his imaginings and into the present. He lifted the package in his hands, hesitating. “I-I've got a package for Rosalyn."

  "Oh, I'm afraid you just missed her.” Miss Howland looked properly sympathetic. “She's gone out on delivery, and won't be back until around noon."

  Well, what had he expected? To find Rosalyn waiting on him, on a day like today?
He felt like kicking himself. What had he been thinking? Of course she was out ... and he now realized his timing was all wrong.

  Miss Howland said she would back around noon. Should he wait, or leave the package...

  Hell. “I'll come back, then,” he muttered.

  But when he came back around noon, Miss Howland informed him Rosalyn was ahead of schedule and had already come and gone again.

  "Doesn't she stop to eat?” he demanded, beginning to grow impatient. He gripped the package and tried to calm down. The most important day of his life and Rosalyn couldn't manage to sit still for a moment? Grumbling, he paced the shop under Miss Howland's amused gaze, undecided about what to do.

  Finally, he swung around and strode back to the counter. Placing the package in front of Miss Howland, he growled, “See that she gets this, will you?"

  Miss Howland smiled. “Of course. Is it addressed?"

  Christian stared at her in confusion for a moment. When he realized Miss Howland thought he wanted Rosalyn to deliver something, an idea came to him. “No—do you have a pen?” Miss Howland nodded and handed him a quill, pushing the ink pot across the counter. He quickly scribbled his name and home address on the brown paper. “This is—this is urgent."

  "I'll see that she gets it as soon as possible."

  "Thank you."

  With nothing left to do but wait, Christian returned to Callie's house, wondering dryly if he would ever come to think of it as his home. He'd moved in shortly after the Davidson's moved into their new home. Unfortunately, he was not alone and wasn't looking forward to spending the day with three over-excited puppies with more energy than sense.

  Maybe Rosalyn would find the package soon.

  * * * *

  Rosalyn collapsed in the workroom chair and groaned at the pile of packages still waiting for her attention. Across the table, Alice rubbed her weary feet and glared at the same pile.

  "I wished they'd all disappear!” she whispered feelingly.

  Although Rosalyn agreed with her, she thought it prudent to keep it to herself. They had to be delivered. “One, two, three, four—five.” She met her partner's gaze and laughed. “Well, maybe this is the last of the bunch.” Glancing around the deserted workshop, she chewed her bottom lip in thought. It had to be the last ones, didn't it? Everyone else had gone home with the exception of Miss Howland, who had assured them she remained only for walk-in customers and would not take more deliveries.

  It was six o'clock, a full twelve hours of constantly jumping in and out of the carriage. At least the carriage had been warm, thanks to Miss Howland's thoughtfulness, and Jamy's consistency. And the white horses Willis had found...

  She eyed the packages and sighed. “Let's get going, Alice. They won't get delivered if we sit here and frown them to death."

  Alice managed a tired giggle. “Well, it has been fun, hasn't it? Since I began helping you, I now have two weddings to attend, and a possible sweetheart."

  "Not to mention the blisters on your feet,” Rosalyn added dryly, wincing as she stood. “Poor Willis. He probably thinks his bottom is nailed to the driver's seat. Remind me to reward him, won't you?"

  "I've already taken care of that,” Miss Howland assured Rosalyn, coming into the workroom. She clucked her tongue. “And I'll instruct the housekeeper to have hot baths and warm food waiting for you at the house. You two have done a wonderful job today."

  Rosalyn gathered the top half of the packages and Alice scooped up the last. A plain brown-paper wrapped package caught Rosalyn's attention. She pointed with her pinky finger at the odd package on the bottom of Alice's stack. “We didn't wrap this one,” she mused aloud. Although the other girls had taken over the task of wrapping the valentine gifts, Rosalyn knew they would never use such plain, ugly paper.

  Alice shrugged and made a face. “Get going, would you Rosy? These aren't exactly light, you know."

  "Right.” Rosalyn shook her head and headed through the shop, pushing open the outer door with her elbow. Snow continued to fall in a light, steady cascade, as it had all day. Now, as daylight begin to fade, it appeared even colder. Thank God, they were nearly finished! She was weary to the bone, and just as hungry.

  At least she had stayed so busy there hadn't been much time for thoughts of Christian.

  "Do you think the snow—” Rosalyn turned as she spoke, surprised to discover Alice wasn't behind her. She looked through the shop door and saw Miss Howland and Alice talking. Just as she started to push the door open to hurry Alice along, the conversation ended.

  Alice joined her and they piled into the carriage with their packages after giving Willis the first address. Once Willis got the cab going, she and Alice sorted through the valentine's, putting them in order. Rosalyn picked up the brown package and peered at the address.

  She dropped it with a gasp.

  "What? What is it, Rosy, you look as if you've seen a ghost."

  Oh, no, not a ghost, but much, much worse! The package was for Christian! “I-It's for...” She couldn't say the words.

  Alice snatched the package from her hand and read the name and address aloud. Her eyes widened. “Oh, dear."

  Rosalyn thought she might be sick. She closed her eyes and fought the nausea. She couldn't.... there was no way she could deliver this package! Alice would have to—

  "Alice! You'll have to do this one alone,” she whispered, her voice miserable and heavy with tears. With all the deliveries yet to make, she couldn't allow them to fall.

  Who? Who had he been courting behind her back? Behind her back? Ha! She'd never had a claim on Christian ... she didn't think anyone had or could! Who did the package belong to?

  Through a blur of tears, Rosalyn stared at the package in Alice's lap. It's was Valentine's Day, and Christian was getting a valentine from a sweetheart.

  Her Christian.

  Not her Christian. Never her Christian.

  "We should get this over with, Rosy,” Alice said.

  Her kind voice brought the tears closer to falling. Rosalyn realized the wisdom in what Alice was suggesting. Get it over with, and get it behind her. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the rest of the deliveries.

  Hesitantly, she nodded. Alice rapped on the carriage ceiling and Willis brought the carriage to a halt. She was back in a flash, brushing snow from her hair. “There. I gave him Christian's address, and don't you worry, Rosy. I'll take it to him.” Alice smiled grimly. “I might just give him a piece of my mind, too."

  "No. Don't.” Rosalyn pressed her arm against her forehead and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. The pain was nearly unbearable. She vowed to never fall in love again!

  When they reached Callie's residence, Rosalyn turned her face in the opposite direction. She didn't want to see him, or the house.

  Alice patted her shoulder, then gathered the package. Rosalyn heard the door open, then a few seconds later Alice's startled cry of pain.

  "Alice! What happened?"

  There was a muffled, unlady-like curse, then Alice fell onto the seat. Her lips were twisted into a painful grimace. “I slipped in the snow, but don't worry, I think I can manage.” As she spoke, she winced again.

  Heartache or not, Rosalyn knew she couldn't let Alice walk on her injured ankle. With a decisive set of her mouth, she crawled over Alice, gathering the package as she went.

  "No, Rosy! You can't..."

  "I can, and I will. I can't let my personal feelings interfere with my job, Alice.” She swallowed and tried to look brave. “Besides, this might do me a world of good.” Maybe then, she could accept the loss. How could a person lose something they never had? Oh, but they could and she had. She'd lost love before it was ever really hers.

  Her fingers tightened on the package. Apparently, someone else had found it.

  Rosalyn went slowly up the walk, oblivious of the swiftly falling snow, or the cold swirl of it around her feet. Fate continued to play such cruel games with her heart, and she continued to punish herself by going
along with them.

  He took forever answering the door, which gave her plenty of time to school her expression into what she hoped was a carefree, professional smile. Inside she trembled. Something vicious squeezed her heart.

  Would he feel shamed?

  Would he suffer the slightest qualm knowing he broke her heart and now crushed the pieces?

  The door opened. Sharp, excited barking converged at her feet. Before she could blink, Christian was before her, big and warm and real. He took one look at her face, then waved at the carriage behind her.

  Rosalyn gave a start when she heard the wheels rolling. She whirled, nearly falling into the snow. Christian caught her in his strong arms and held her steady as she watched in horrified amazement as the carriage drove away.

  "What—why—Where are they going? Why would they leave—"

  "Come here, you.” He turned her around, crushing the package between them. Rosalyn stared into his beautiful face, completely baffled. He walked backwards into the living room, bringing her with him. The door slammed shut behind her.

  What was going on? Rosalyn felt close to swooning as he continued to press against her. Her face flushed with heat and her loins began to ache shamelessly in memory of another intimate encounter. She tried to remind herself of the reason she was here. A package, from someone else addressed to Christian. A valentine from another woman—

  "I love you."

  She gasped, convinced she was dreaming. He'd said—

  "I love you,” he repeated, lowering his mouth to hers.

  "You—"

  "—talk to much."

  He ended the talking very successfully, kissing her deeply and not holding back. Rosalyn melted in his arms, promptly forgetting her confusion. Christian was holding her, kissing her, telling her he loved her. That was all that mattered at the moment.

  Finally, after blissful moments passed, he lifted his head and met her dreamy gaze. “Well?"

  "W-well?” Rosalyn blinked, then licked her lips as she tried to think. It was no use; he'd completely swiped her brain clean of logical thought.