The Rescue

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The Rescue Page 8

by Tanya Eavenson


  He came to her quickly, brow furrowed, eyes searching. “Are you dizzy? Do you need to sit?”

  Although she shook her head, he gently grasped her elbow and directed her to sit.

  He knelt before her. “If you’re feeling ill, please tell me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

  She did feel ill. Not because of anything Glover had done, but because she’d soon be forced into a loveless marriage. The man she truly loved peered into her eyes, begging for answers. What could she tell him?

  She held out the chocolate again. “For you.”

  Trent continued to search her eyes as a small smile lit his face. He cupped her hand within his and unwrapped the candy. “I think this is the largest piece you’ve ever given me.”

  If only she could give him more. “Oh, Trent ...” Her gaze fell to his lips, even as she felt her own part. How she loved him. If only she had one chance to feel love.

  Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his. A soft moan escaped his throat, and electric jolts surged through her. He had yet to kiss her in return, but heaven help her, she wanted this.

  “Oh, Rose.” He stood, pulling her into his arms and kissing her gently, reverently as if it was a privilege, lingering. “What am I going to do?”

  She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying and pressed her cheek against his chest. She closed her eyes against her life—her future—and instead inhaled his clean soap scent. How safe and warm she felt in his arms. How perfectly she fit there.

  “Can I see you tomorrow?” He kissed the top of her head.

  “I’ll be shopping with your mother for your party.”

  “She’s ordered me to buy something too, more formal than my ‘Sunday best,’ as they say in Texas. It’s what I’ve been doing since I saw you last, but I’d be happy to join you.”

  The pain from his closeness, his gentle touches, his endless love, and the fact she would never be his wife crushed her. The last shred of hope to be free to love him in return was slipping through her fingers. “Glover might join us on our shopping trip. I don’t think it would be a good idea if you’re there too.”

  Trent loosened his hold, but she held tighter. She’d pay the price if Glover found out, but she couldn’t let Trent go. Not yet.

  “Do you still plan to marry Glover?” His voice rose in disbelief, but he clung to her now, reality of the situation hitting them both.

  She couldn’t answer. Bile rose in her throat.

  “I can make you happy, Rose. I’ll be true to you, care for you, protect you. You’ll never want for anything. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Her heart wrenched. “I should go.”

  “Please don’t leave.”

  “I can’t stay. I shouldn’t have come.” He released her then, and her heart broke at the emptiness his touch left behind. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why did you come to me?”

  “To give you the candy. To tell you thank you.”

  He gathered her once again within his arms, and she went willingly. “You came to tear my heart out? To make me suffer?”

  She shook her head against his chest. “No ... I ...”

  “I’ve missed you, Rose. Longed for you. Day. Night. In every sunset, you were there. My thoughts. My prayers. There is nowhere I can go that my love for you isn’t.” He cupped her cheek. “I love you.”

  “You can’t.” Her words came out weak.

  Trent tilted his head, softly brushed his lips against hers, and whispered, “I do.”

  “You can’t.” She swallowed back tears. “I can’t. You don’t understand.” She moved from his embrace and turned around, covering her face with her hands. She sensed him close behind her. What had she done?

  “You kissed me, Rose. You came because you love me.”

  He touched her arm and she flinched, spinning to face him. “Please ...” She groaned. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come ... the kiss. I’m to wed Glover—”

  “But you don’t love him. I can feel it in your touch, your kiss—”

  “And I was a fool. I’m marrying Glover, and if you care for me as you say you do, I beg you not to say anything further about what just happened. It’s for the best. Please, Trent. Give me your word?”

  Moisture filled his eyes and his jaw clenched. He blinked hard and turned away from her. “This is what you want?”

  No! “It is.” She fought to keep from going to him.

  “I’m sorry, Rosalind. I can’t make that promise.”

  How she found her way to her room, Rosalind was unsure. Exhaustion pulled at her as she sat on the edge of her bed. She felt something in her pocket. The chocolate.

  She slid the wrapper out and threw the chocolate against the wall.

  Trent sat in the chair Rosalind had just occupied and took off his boots. The faint smell of her rose-scented perfume lingered in the air, torturing him, as did her kisses.

  He still couldn’t believe she had kissed him. He’d imagined their first kiss countless times, but never with the possibility of her marrying another man. The impact of her declaration of marrying Glover, after all he learned and after kissing him, was complete and utter torture. But Trent knew the truth now about Glover, her father’s debt, and their upcoming marriage. He’d hold his tongue until he found a way for Rosalind to be free of Glover. If not, God would provide a way of rescue, of that he was sure.

  Hours later as sleep proved impossible, Trent heard a noise outside his room. He climbed out of bed and cracked the door. Mr. Standford stumbled toward his room.

  Chapter Ten

  Trent woke Sunday before dawn. He tossed and turned, replaying in his mind what he’d learned the day before. Mr. Standford had indeed allowed his own greed and selfishness to control him, to ruin his life and Rosalind’s. What horrible consequences for an innocent daughter to face. Trent had seen so little joy in her since he’d arrived. Now he understood why, and he was almost certain the reason Rosalind had never answered his proposal was her father’s doing. She loved him still. Otherwise she wouldn’t have kissed him the way she had.

  He dressed for church—knowing Glover wouldn’t accompany them offered little ease—and made his way downstairs with his Bible in hand. Pushing through the kitchen door, he found Doris pouring a cup of coffee. He inhaled the rich aroma and smiled at her. “Good morning.”

  “It’s good to see someone’s happy. Let me fix you a cup.” Doris pulled another cup from the cabinet, poured, then gave it to him. “Be careful. It’s hot.”

  “Thank you for agreeing to stay on while we’re here.”

  “Reminds me of old times when the missus was alive. I’m glad to serve your family.”

  Trent took a warm gulp and enjoyed the brew. “How would you feel about attending church with Rosalind and me? My parents have been asked to attend a friend’s church later this morning, so there will be plenty of room in the carriage if you’d like to join us.”

  Her brows rose. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Easton, but I’ve already made plans to attend with my children. If that’s all, I’ll go now and return for lunch.”

  “Of course. And thank you for the coffee.” He took another swallow. “If I didn’t have a cook back home, I’d be offering you a job.”

  Doris chuckled. “You’re welcome, Mr. Easton.” She placed her apron on a hook next to the icebox and left through the back door.

  Trent crossed the room to the round table by the window, set down his Bible, and sank into a chair. A wide oak tree stood beyond the glass, stretching toward a bluebird sky. He closed his eyes, envisioning the wide-open spaces of his ranch back in Texas. The tree at the property line. He’d carved his and Rosalind’s names in the bark when he thought they’d marry. It was his way of giving her everything he had from the land, right down to the roots that dug in the soil.

  He never had the strength to scratch out their names, and they still remained there today. Would Rosalind ever get to see the tree, the sunflowers he planted for her, or the ho
use he’d built with her in mind? Every detail had been for her, and now he understood why she didn’t answer his proposal.

  Trent heard the front door slam. He jumped up and raced outside just in time to see Rosalind duck as she climbed into the carriage.

  “Are you leaving so soon?” he called out.

  She looked out from the carriage. “I assumed you’d be with your parents, visiting friends.”

  Lord, lead me. Thank you for the few moments alone with her. “No. I’m going with you.”

  The ride to church passed with agonizing slowness. With Trent sitting on one side of the carriage, and Rosalind on the other, evading his gaze. Not a word had been spoken. And she preferred it. It was better to avoid conversation altogether, no matter how much her heart ached at his nearness. She deserved the pain, selfishly indulging on a whim of a kiss. What had she done? She put everyone’s life in danger for a passing moment of pleasure she now regretted. The fear of Glover learning of her indiscretion gripped tightly around her neck. She touched the collar of her dress.

  “Rosalind?” Trent slid alongside her. “Your face has turned pale. Speak to me.”

  “I can’t,” she managed to say just above a whisper, nestling her hands in her lap. She stared out the carriage window at the passing landscape to avoid his scrutiny. Trent covered her hands with his own, but only for a moment before he returned to his seat. Instantly she grew cold.

  Arriving at the church, Rosalind seized the opportunity to separate herself from Trent among people, in hopes he’d find another pew to sit in. After an instant, she found her usual spot and scooted toward the middle. Trent followed, and his arm grazed her shoulder as he sat and reached for a hymnal. He stretched out his legs, and she inched away to avoid further contact.

  The pastor asked the congregation to join him in song, and everyone stood. Trent held the hymnal for them to share. At his nearness, Glover came to mind. Once again, her throat constricted. She glanced at the doors through which she’d entered.

  After the singing, Pastor John motioned for everyone to sit. He took his Bible from the wooden stand and instructed everyone to turn to Exodus chapter seven and read along.

  She touched the thick binding of her Bible. Her mother had given it to her. She flipped opened the hard brown cover. Translated out of the original tongues ... New York: American Bible Society. 1872. There it was. Her mother’s script.

  To my darling daughter,

  The words in this book will quench any need or thirst you may have in this life and guide you to know the power of God and His will. Take hold of God’s truth and grasp them to your heart. Tie them around your neck and never depart from them. May God be a lamp and a light to your path as He directs your future which He has prepared in advance for you. Never forget how much you are loved and treasured, but most importantly, I pray you will know how deep and wide your Heavenly Father’s love is for you.

  With much affection,

  Your mother

  Her heart hammered, and her pulse raced as she clasped the Bible in her grip. What lamp, Mother? What path? There’s no light, only darkness. I can’t see. God abandoned me. He lied. I’m not loved as you claimed—for you lied to me as well. Tears blurred her vision, and her hands shook the pages.

  She blinked, fighting back the moisture, but tears rolled down her face.

  Pastor John looked toward her, and she swallowed. Could he see her distress? She rested her back against the pew and bowed her head. He continued, “God had a plan to free His people from slavery, teach them who He was by having a relationship with them. And that plan included one man, a shepherd by the name of Moses.”

  From the corner of her eye, Rosalind caught Trent shuffle in his seat. He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden.

  Pastor John’s voice rose. “God uses us as His instruments to help rescue people from bondage. Don’t ever doubt, beloved, like the Israelites, for they wandered in the desert for forty years because of their unbelief in their Creator’s promises.”

  Rosalind felt like she was in the desert—unable to walk another step, thirsty—and all she wanted to do was give up. She was tired and her heart weighed heavily, even more so since Trent arrived in Boston. She closed her eyes, fatigue settling all around her body and mind.

  Near the end of the invitation, she’d give anything to know God still thought of her, loved her, even for a moment.

  Pray. A soft voice filtered through her heart.

  She ached for God’s presence. Please, God ... Until that very moment, she’d never felt so empty and alone. Her mother was gone. Her father had given her away. And God abandoned her when she needed Him to love her as her mother had inscribed in her Bible. Unable to stay seated a moment longer, she stood and hurried down the aisle and out the door.

  “Rosalind!” Trent called once her feet reached the sidewalk. “Wait.”

  She climbed into the carriage and closed the door, fighting back tears and the urge to run far away. But there was nowhere to go, no one to help her.

  Trent yanked open the door and sat across from her. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She let out a breath and stared out the window. “I need to go home.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  She glanced at him, but the worry etched on his face broke her heart. “You ask too many questions.”

  “And you give little to no answers.”

  “You’re leaving, so what does it matter to you?”

  “I’ll stay, Rosalind. For you.”

  “No.” Her breath caught in her throat. She dropped her reticule, then snatched it from the carriage floor. “I’m getting married tomorrow.” And she couldn’t endure being this close to him another minute. “Go home to Texas. There’s nothing for you in Boston.” She exited the carriage and rushed down the sidewalk, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her body shook.

  I’ll stay ... for you. The words rang clear in her heart and mind as if Trent had spoken them behind her. She glanced back over her shoulder but saw no one. As she left the sidewalk and cut through a cobbled street near her sister’s, she knew she couldn’t return home. Not with Trent there. The pull to him was too great. If she could no longer hide her true feelings for him, Glover would see how deep they ran.

  She jerked to a halt. He’d threatened Sydney and the babies. He’d have no qualms about harming Trent. Because of her, Trent was now in danger.

  Rosalind made her way to Sydney’s home. To keep from being seen, she sneaked in a back way through a narrow fence. She’d send word to Glover that she was visiting her sister. He’d probably be happier with that than the idea of her being home alone with Trent. And Trent would be kept out of harm’s way.

  Tomorrow’s party would be the last time she’d see Trent. Hiding her true feelings and facing both men while being in the Eastons’ company would be a horrible challenge. But she’d do it if she had to, to protect those she loved.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I know I asked yesterday, but I wish you would tell me what’s going on.” Sydney rocked a swaddled William in the chair beside the fireplace.

  “Do you ever wonder why William shivers so?” Rosalind asked with all the nonchalance she could muster. Keeping secrets from her sister was both tricky and dire. “What will happen to him when winter comes?”

  “I believe since William was much smaller and had more difficulties, his body chills easily. But I pray when the colder temperatures come, he’ll be old enough to handle them.” She ran her fingers over his bald head. “Rosalind, you changed the subject again. Something about Glover isn’t right, and I don’t like the way he obsesses over you. Like yesterday, I could tell he wasn’t happy when he found out you were here. I’m your sister, Rosalind.”

  “He was concerned over my well-being is all. After we had a chance to speak, he warmed to the idea of me staying with you.”

  She snorted. “I’m sure he did. Trenton wasn’t anywhere around. Are you here because of Trenton? His care for you is obvious
. Why, if I had a choice, I’d marry Trenton instead of Glover.”

  “Marrying Trenton isn’t a possibility for me. He’s leaving.”

  Sydney stopped rocking, her brows furrowed. “Leaving? Are you sure?”

  What other option did she have but to send him away? “Tonight is the last time I’ll see him.” She rose from the couch, twisting her fingers. “Would you be willing to collect my dress from home? It seems I have none of my things for the party.”

  “I don’t understand you, Rosalind.” Her gaze fell to Rosalind’s hands. “Look at how upset you are. I can tell you wish to see Trenton. If only you’d encourage him to stay, I’m sure he would.”

  She dropped her hands. “Please, Sydney. I don’t want to talk about this.” And yet her heart rebelled within her chest.

  Sydney rose and slowly slid William into Rosalind’s arms. “Then I shall go now, as Anna is still asleep in her crib.” She hurried up the stairs and minutes later returned with a large bag in hand. “I love you, my sister. Don’t fault me because I care about your happiness.”

  “I do not fault you. Just please, trust me. I know what’s best for everyone, including my future.”

  She gave a slight nod of acceptance. “Is there anything else you need from home?”

  “My cream slippers in the bottom of the armoire, and there’s a bow in the top drawer on the left. Select anything else you think I might need.” She looked down at her nephew, then back at her sister. “May I stay longer, until Joshua comes home?”

  Her sister smiled then. “You may stay as long as you like. I love having you here with me.”

  Rosalind chuckled at the excitement in her eyes. “Please bring whatever you think I’ll need to stay.”

  “How wonderful.” Sydney kissed William’s cheek, then headed for the entryway. “I’ll bring Doris. She’ll watch the children tonight so we may attend Trent’s party together. I won’t be long.”

 

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