Romancing Redemption

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  People gathering around the stage formed a crowd like one at a pulpit. A few nodded as more pulled together like mercury in a spoon.

  “Nothing is more important than the respectability of our town and county. That’s why we don’t allow brothels or casinos in our neighborhoods.” He thrust his fist into the air, careful to step to the side as he sipped from his glass. “I know that you want what’s best for your family and friends, as do I.”

  Murmurs from the crowd and a narrowing of Phillip’s eyes pushed on Rosie like a ball of fire. She backed away, arms outstretched in horror.

  Phillip honed in on her, his entire being strung out on the mob mentality he worked to bring to a boil. With exaggerated slowness, he spoke, watching Rosie as he formed each syllable. “When there’s something dangerous in our community, I think it’s important that we work as a group and eliminate the threat.” He slowed his rhythm, drawing out every syllable. “Well, my friends, we have such a problem in our midst. When morals are in question, I think it’s only fitting to call specific actions to be accounted for.”

  A few people on the fringes of the group turned to look at her, animosity dark on their faces.

  “We can get rid of any threats and we can do it... tonight. In the name of safety.” Phillip lowered his arms and waited for the applause. A small trickle followed his gaze across the crowd.

  “We need to go. Now.” Rosie didn’t wait for Sara Beth to join her as she turned and ran from the backyard. Who knew what people would do in a situation like that.

  She’d parked the car along the road with everyone else, but since they’d arrived so late, the walk to the Bug was a bit longer. Rosie broke into a disjointed trot that she maintained simply because she didn’t want to be caught crying.

  A strong hand brought her to a stop. So much for not being seen in her state of despair.

  Ronan peered down at her. “Rosie, are you okay?”

  Kelsey wrapped her arm around Sara Beth who had kept pace with Rosie during her flight from the party. “Girls, what happened?”

  Rosie sniffed, unwilling or unable to divulge in her embarrassment completely. “My contract with the museum fell through. You’re welcome to cancel, if you feel the need to.” She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘if you think you’d rather not have someone like me working for you’.

  “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t trade that contract for anything.” He looked over her head and then back at her. “You wouldn’t be upset about the rumors running around town, would you?”

  Sighing, Rosie’s shoulders slumped and she nodded. She didn’t want Ronan to know, but he knew so much more about her than she’d ever known was possible and he hadn’t betrayed her yet.

  “Tell you what, how about we ignore the gossips and busybodies of this town and not burn a contract that we’re waiting to start, okay?” He studied her, his eyes kind and filled with sympathy. “You probably didn’t know this, but my sister, Amelia, has been treated like a piece of crap by the people of this town. Since she got married, though, they’ve come around. It’s unfortunate that the majority of the residents are lost in the adolescence of their lives. Ignore the rumors. I’m planning on having great floors on Monday.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” And he was, but she wasn’t ready to take the steps to wait out the moodiness of the townspeople. She couldn’t figure out why he wanted to keep her so bad on the contract, or even why he thought she was even in the same league of comparison as Amelia.

  He most likely didn’t understand what exactly was insinuated by the rumors. Heck, Rosie wasn’t going to write it out for him at the risk he didn’t have a full grasp on the problem.

  Ronan pulled her in for a quick hug. “Hang in there. You can do this.” Turning them toward the car, the James family waved and wished them good night.

  Sara Beth fell into step with Rosie as they made their way down the street to their car. The crunch of the gravel under their boots enhanced the silence stretching between them.

  “I didn’t see Michael.” Shaking her head, Rosie ignored the thoughts of Michael that she wanted to focus on. “I know. Not the most important thing, right now, since there was a lot going on.” She didn’t want to talk about it or the fact that he’d stood her up. “But...” She shrugged.

  Thankfully the dark night hid her tears from her sister who chose to keep quiet.

  True, it would bother anyone that a jerk of a man tried getting the town to hate her, but she also had to face the fact that most likely the rumors had gotten to Michael and he didn’t have the guts to tell her to her face.

  The realization that her heart might break for the first time sent a torrent of tears down her cheeks. She didn’t want to hurt over him.

  She wanted to be with him and if she couldn’t be, why stay?

  At that point, what was keeping the Scott girls in town?

  Michael

  Chapter 18

  IF ONE MORE LAWYER asked him to sign something, Michael would consider using that person as a target. He needed an excuse to try out his new collection of vintage hunting rifles that had belonged to his grandfather.

  Ducking out of the all-day-scheduled conferences, Michael yanked his bolo tie off and tucked it in the pocket of his slacks. He’d missed the barn raising and if he didn’t get going thirty minutes ago, he was going to miss the dance.

  The opportunity to see Rosie again had distracted him all day, the night before, the day before, and every moment since he saw her last. Even his grandfather’s death didn’t dampen his affections for the woman.

  In such a short amount of time, she’d become his second thought to everything.

  He grabbed the first set of keys hanging on the key hooks by the door and strode toward the garage. Even though his grandfather had been a humble man, he’d had a love for shiny things on wheels. His collection claimed cars from the forties, fifties, and sixties. Michael had grabbed the keys for the blue 1964 Chevy II. Not a bad choice.

  Climbing inside, he started up the stock engine and pulled out of the garage.

  If he was lucky, Rosie would only be a little annoyed, and she’d still dance with him. If his luck stayed true to form, holding its momentum, Rosie would shoot him when he walked through the gate.

  Nah, she was a little more reserved than that. He grinned at the glowing dash. While some would find her slow smile rude or even cold, Michael couldn’t help but think of the ghost-like dimple as adorable and endearing.

  He couldn’t wait to see her – even if she did decide to shoot at him.

  DAMP GRASS SWALLOWED the sounds of his boots as he stomped as fast as he could toward the lit up festivities.

  Bass music thumped on the night air, coming to a screeching halt. Muffled words floated in the darkness and Michael picked up his pace, almost jogging.

  He should’ve changed into jeans, but he hadn’t wanted to waste any time. The material of his slacks whispered in the night.

  Cutting through the front yard and crossing behind the large shed he’d helped raise when he was a kid, Michael came into the clearing. Spying Rosie with her arms spread wide and terror contorting her delicate features, he stopped.

  Looking in the same direction she did, he narrowed his eyes. Phillip Nelson. According to the lawyers that morning, his grandfather had started receiving threats from the man a couple days before his death.

  Rosie turned and ran, hauling her sister with her.

  Poised and ready to run after them, Michael stopped at the sound of his name over the music system, ricocheting off the fence and barn walls.

  “Ah, and here we have Michael Rourke. One of the biggest threats to our community. Hello, Michael. Now that your grandpappy is dead, maybe you’ll try to run the ranch into the ground. Let the whores in town have a go at it?” Phillip searched the crowd for the laughter he’d hoped his joke would bring, but stony faces and shifty glances met his gaze.

  Michael tucked his chin and readjusted his hat, irritation tightening his muscles
.

  Oh, after the day he’d just had, he was in the mood for a little ass-kickin’.

  He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to rest on his left leg and hip. He raised his voice. “Phillip, you need to be careful what you say. I’m not the man assaulting women in the middle of Main Street.”

  Phillip’s face hardened. His tone rose to a thin screech. “I didn’t assault anyone. She asked for it. That woman is a prostitute anyway. You’re not going to switch the tables, Rourke. I know all about what a lying, thieving, no-good bastard you are.”

  A deep voice from the crowd cut across their conversation. “Hey, Nelson, everyone knows Rourke isn’t a liar or a thief. He’s not a bastard, either. Why don’t you tell everyone here what you told me at The Saloon.” Gus lifted his hand and waved so everyone could see where he stood. He, too, crossed his arms and waited. “Need me to jog your memory? You promised me no one in town would believe a bartender and an ex-waitress.”

  Phillip glared at Gus like he’d just grown a keg out of his stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His gaze darted from face to face, not settling on any one person.

  “Yes, you do. I was there when you threatened them.” A woman, her hair tied into two ponytails, waved her arms and stepped from the middle of the crowd. “You said that even if she’d never done the job, it was her word against yours.” She glanced around at the crowd. “I’ve never thought he was the most honest of people, but this goes farther than just dishonesty.”

  “Now, wait a minute. That whore doesn’t deserve a place in Colby. She’s worthless.” Phillip’s mouth screwed to the side, spit spraying as he spoke. His hands shook. He shrieked. “She’s a stupid whore.”

  The museum curator stood from the benches set up along the perimeter of the dance floor. “She’s not. She’s a hardworking woman, trying to raise her sister.”

  Phillip stepped from the stage, handing the mic off to the lead singer. He pointed his finger at the curator and raised his eyebrows. “You dare to defend her? You fired her, canceled her contract because —”

  “—Because you said you’d ruin my family and the museum, if I didn’t.” The thicker man’s face flushed in the light. He turned his head to address the whole crowd. “Phillip Nelson has been trying to find ways to bully us in this community for a while now. Only Devlyn Caracus has ever been so bad. At least the Caracus Gang did their lying and stealing outright. You...” He shook his fist in the air. “Try to ruin a girl because she won’t do what you want. You’re despicable.”

  Phillip approached him, pounding his own chest as he yelled. “Yeah? I’m despicable? She’s Devlyn Caracus’s daughter. Did you know that? Still think I’m worse than her?”

  “Yes.” The curator nodded his head, not backing down. “Canceling her contract was the stupidest thing I’ve done. I honestly don’t care about her past. I care that for the first time since I’ve owned the building, those floors are worth walking on.” He poked his finger into Phillip’s chest. “You’re not taking that away from me.”

  Michael strolled closer to the apparent cock fight. He’d known about the rumors but he hadn’t paid them any mind. Apparently Rosie had dealt with a lot on her own in a community that was supposed to support her.

  His grandfather had believed in the importance of past, but Michael didn’t. He moved to the fringe of the crowd encircling the two men arguing over a woman who they really knew nothing about.

  Phillip stepped back, indicating intent to fight.

  The curator was an older man and wouldn’t last more than three seconds with the leaner, younger jackass about to attack him.

  Before Phillip could move toward his opponent, Michael lunged, grabbing him around the waist. They toppled to the ground, landing with a collective oomph.

  Clawing for a handhold, Michael rolled backwards and forwards while Phillip struggled to move away.

  Michael gripped the crook of Phillip’s elbow and yanked as he pushed himself into a kneeling position.

  He drew back his right fist and plowed it down into the other man’s left cheek.

  Again.

  And again.

  Every connection satisfied some insane need to hear the man’s flesh give under pressure.

  Phillip pushed on Michael’s legs, but his effort weakened until his hands flopped to the sides.

  Someone wrapped their arms around Michael’s shoulders and dragged him from Phillip’s unconscious body.

  Breathing hard, Michael calmed, waiting to be released.

  Arms dropping, Ronan turned Michael around and ducked to see his face. “You okay?”

  Michael’s chest heaved. His knuckles stung. He nodded. “Yeah. I need to check on Rosie.”

  Ronan shook his head and held onto Michael’s shoulder. “No. Leave her be for a little while longer. She and Sara Beth need to spend a little bit of time together. I need to talk to you anyway.”

  Just because Ronan said, didn’t mean that Michael’s worry disappeared. Hands on his hips, Michael watched Phillip’s unmoving feet. He pointed at the fallen man. “Do you think I killed him?” The idea didn’t even scare him. So what if he had? For a moment, he couldn’t help but wish it on him. How dare he try to destroy Rosie – or anyone for that matter.

  Shooting a quick glance at the prostrate man, Ronan shrugged. “It doesn’t look like it. His chest is moving.” He motioned to a small crowd huddled at the end of the picnic table. “Go give Steve a call. Tell him to bring the ambulance. Phillip needs to get to Missoula. Not the clinic.” He turned Michael all the way to facing him and jerked his head toward Phillip. “No way would Slate forgive me, if I sent that bastard into his wife’s clinic. Phillip will make it to Missoula.”

  He took a deep breath and directed Michael toward a bench well away from the rest of the party goers. Glancing at his feet and then at Michael, he splayed his hands. “Look, Rosie’s understandably upset. Who wouldn’t be? But you need to get her to stay. There’s a man – a federal agent – and he’s looking for Caracus children, specifically Devlyn’s. We can protect her here, but if she leaves town or even the county, I’m not sure she’ll stay under the radar.”

  “Why does he want the kids?” Michael didn’t think much of the government, unless he needed to vote to keep his rights to his guns and his land. The thought that an official wanted Rosie didn’t sit too well with him. “He’s not out to hurt them or anything, is he?”

  Ronan pressed his lips together and half-shook his head. “I’m not sure. Something to do with a bank haul from a while back. But my concern isn’t with the why. It’s with the who. The agent in charge of the investigation – Jason Mendez – let’s just say, he’s ruthless when he has a defined mission. I’m still trying to figure out what it is exactly, but nevertheless, we don’t want Rosie in his way. She doesn’t deserve the heartache.” He peered at Michael for a moment. “How are things at the ranch? You holding up out there all by yourself?”

  Michael grinned ruefully, his head whirling with the information Ronan had just dumped in his lap. “I always wanted my own ranch, but you make this job look easy.”

  “Ranching isn’t easy, by a long shot. But it’s worth it, especially since I have someone to share it with. Maybe that’s what you need...” Ronan lifted his head and found Kelsey in the crowd.

  He returned his gaze to Michael’s. “I think you already found her, you’re just being a stubborn ass about it. Love doesn’t need to take forever – it just needs a chance to grow.” He winked, patted Michael’s shoulder, and walked toward Kelsey where he pulled her in for a hug.

  His words ran through Michael’s head.

  Being a stubborn ass seemed to run in the Rourke family.

  After the crap Phillip had just pulled, Michael didn’t want to leave the Scott girls alone for too long. No one checked on the fallen man, and most likely wouldn’t until the town paramedic arrived.

  Not that that was a bad thing.

  He had a lot to think about, but the f
irst thing he had to do was find Rosie and make sure she was okay. Something like Phillip attacking her verbally in public would be enough to make anyone run scared.

  And Rosie was skittish enough as it was.

  Michael had more to say to her than just ask if she was okay. He had a future to discuss.

  Rosie

  Chapter 19

  TUCKED UNDER THE DRIVER’S seat of the Bug, the escape bag crinkled comfortingly to Rosie when she reached down and squeezed the lumpy sides. She closed her eyes in the dark, resting her forehead against the steering wheel for only a second.

  Sara Beth buckled her seatbelt beside her.

  Rosie whispered. “Let’s go. Get out of here. Pick a place and just drive until we get there.” Certainty in her decision burned inside her. No one had stood up for her. For them. How disappointing.

  Only her silhouette against the twinkling stars, Sara Beth didn’t give away any emotions. Her mouth opened.

  Doubt crept in, crushing her need to flee. Before Sara Beth could speak, Rosie reached for her hand. “At home. Think about it and when we get home, we can decide.” The comfort of the bag beneath her gave her a sense of bravery that warmed her nerves. Whatever they decided would be fine. They’d survived so far on their own. They didn’t need anyone or anything to tell them what was best.

  Would running be such a bad thing? They could grab a few items from their apartment and just leave. Most of their meager belongings would fit in the mini-car. Escaping wasn’t so farfetched. Saving themselves from the ridicule and outcast status? Who wouldn’t want a chance to do exactly that?

  If she could steal her freedom from Madam at the young age of seventeen, why couldn’t she escape a different prison at twenty-two?

  The German engine buzzed to life with a small turn of the key. Rosie shifted and turned the car onto the road.

  She only had a few miles to make one of the biggest decisions of her life.

  THE SOMBER MOOD CARRIED Rosie from the car while her sister walked ahead of her. They tread softly up the stairs, attempting to be quiet for Mrs. Norton.