The Rescue

by Tanya Eavenson

  As they greeted three more couples, Trent couldn’t keep his gaze from Rosalind. Not only was she breathtakingly beautiful, but something had changed between them. She stood closer, taller if that were possible, and her smile radiated when she looked at him.

  The last couple entered and was greeted. Trent shoved his hand into his pocket, and his finger slid over the smooth band and diamonds.

  His father slipped his arm around his mother’s waist and kissed her cheek. “Shall we?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She smiled, taking his arm.

  Trent bowed and stayed low. “And I shall have the honor of accompanying you, my sweet lady.”

  Rosalind chuckled and clasped her hands together. “Do you act like this in Texas?”

  He gazed up into her gray eyes. “Oh no. You won’t find me bowing or dressed like this.” He rose and straightened his coat.

  “I can’t imagine what Texas is like. Will you tell me more about it?” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

  “I’d be glad to. Would you like to go to the balcony?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  Out on the balcony, the unusually cool June evening had Rosalind shivering against his arm. He wanted to hold her to keep her warm, but doing what he wanted and what was expected were two different things. “We can go back inside,” he said. “I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

  Her eyes questioned him, and a moment later her hand slipped from his arm, and she strolled to the rail. “I’d much rather stay out here for a time. Tell me about Texas.”

  He stood beside her, staring out at the darkness, his mind drifting to his land. To home. “I really don’t know where to begin.”

  “Start anywhere. What do the skies look like?”

  “They’re beautiful. Wide-open spaces. The sky stretches as far as the eye can see. My favorite times are early mornings and late afternoons. You can almost pick your color—orange, red, gold, blue, or pink. They all show up, as if God paints the heavens with His finger.”

  “Tell me about your land.”

  Trent turned toward her, and she was staring at him. Even in the dim lighting, he’d seen the longing in her eyes. Was her desire to be in his company or to see Texas for herself? He knew his own gaze reflected the desires hidden in his heart.

  “I planted sunflowers for you.” And built a house for us to live in, to start a family in.

  For a long moment, she looked at the balcony floor, then to the house.

  He was so tempted to lift his fingers to her forehead and smooth out the wrinkles. “I wish—”

  She looked away. “We should go inside. I believe I am feeling a bit chilled.”

  Were those unshed tears in her eyes? He hated to think he’d put them there, but she had to know he’d thought of her constantly since moving to Texas. Or was he torturing them both with a love they couldn’t reclaim? “Of course.” He held out his arm and she accepted.

  At Rosalind’s direction, they headed toward the music. Trent spotted Glover standing with a group of men. Glover’s eyes narrowed as they strolled by. A whirlwind of emotions consumed Trent, but it was fear for Rosalind’s safety that rose up within him. He covered her hand with his own. God brought him here for Rosalind’s sake.

  He’d be willing to give up his life to protect her, but he didn’t know how to convince her not to marry Glover. God, give me strength. Show me how to protect Rosalind. Show me tonight before it’s too late. They entered the crowd to waltz. Couples were gathering on the floor.

  “Rosalind,” he whispered. “I’m not sure I remember how to do this. I was sure once I began, I’d remember...except for my feet.”

  The music began and Trent froze.

  Rosalind chuckled. “You seem frightened. Come on, cowboy. I’ll show you what to do. Slide your right foot forward one step, three measures. Do you remember?”

  No. “I’ll follow your lead.”

  She tapped his foot, a prompt to move.

  They circled each other holding hands in the air. She curtsied and he bowed, but when she pulled him to herself, he’d gladly let her lead any day. As Rosalind danced around the room with the other couples, her grace magnified. She was as elegant as a swan, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, nor did he want to. Please, Lord. Answer my prayer. Show me how to protect her. She returned to him.

  He stepped with the music and realized his shoe had not met the floor. “Oh, Rosalind. Your foot.”

  She smiled at him and giggled. They both stood in front of each other once again. “I think I can walk.”

  He took her hand to guide her from the floor. They weaved through several couples and passed the stairwell to the balcony. Rosalind glanced at him. “Why are we coming back out here?”

  “This is the only place we can speak privately without drawing attention. Especially from Glover.”

  She released his hand and stood at the rail, staring down into the darkness as if she saw the gardens below.

  “Rosalind. What is it?”

  “Dancing. Being near you. I wanted to believe I could enjoy this evening with you, but I can’t. It’s too difficult, even being here on this balcony.” She turned to him. “The last time I was here was the night before you left, when you asked permission to write to me. My whole life changed that night. By the time we reached home, my mother was deathly ill. We didn’t know if she would live through the night. I thought it was the most difficult thing I had ever faced. Then I learned that same night my father promised me to Glover.”

  “Your father had already decided you were to marry Glover, even before we left Boston? Before my letters?” She stood only inches from him yet seemed so far away. His heart was breaking at the growing distance. “Why didn’t you share these things with me when you wrote?”

  “I had hoped Mother would survive, to speak to Father and stop the wedding from happening. I thought it was you she ...” She covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Before I came out to the balcony that night, she asked if I planned to write you. I told her I would if she approved.”

  Rosalind met his gaze, eyes searching. “What did she say?”

  “She cupped my cheek and said, ‘Yes, please write to my Rosalind.’ She said knowing I would keep in touch with you did her heart good.”

  Tears slid down Rosalind’s face. “She knew she was dying, but she didn’t tell us. It was you she wanted me to marry.”

  Lord, help me to set her free.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was you she wanted me to marry.

  Rosalind shivered against the cold gripping her body. She recalled how her mother spoke of Trent and how she loved him. Hadn’t Rosalind seen it before now ... even the night of the party, the dress she wore? Yes, her mother encouraged her toward Trent. Why hadn’t she seen that clearly? If Mother had been well, she’d have stopped her father from agreeing to her betrothal to Glover. Father would have listened.

  “Rosalind, are you all right? You’re trembling.” Trent’s warm hand caressed her cheek.

  Her eyes closed in the truth. I would have been saved.

  “Rosalind, you’ve grown pale.”

  “I ...” Hearing heavy footsteps, her eyes flung open. Glover stared as he strolled toward them. She wiped her tears with the back of her gloved hand. “Glover.” Her voice quivered, and Trent’s palm fell. “We were—”

  “Talking about her mother,” Trent said quickly. “She’s turned pale, and I was going to suggest she ought to rest in one of the rooms upstairs. Rosalind, would you like me to escort you upstairs? Or do you think you can manage?”

  Glover had yet to speak, and her words caught in her throat, choking her. “I ... I can manage ... Thank you,” she whispered and faced Glover. A nod told her he’d given his consent, but what would come of it later? Had he seen Trent’s hand on her cheek?

  She swallowed hard and hated herself for the fear Glover ignited within her. To be controlled regardless of who she was or how she
felt.

  Rosalind left the balcony and climbed the stairs to the second floor, continuing down the hall. In the Eastons’ library, books lined the walls from floor to ceiling. She stood at the window and looked out. Darkness joined her there, but a figure grew within the reflection of the window. Glover. He reached her and stroked her arm.

  “I know my caress will be much more welcomed than that of another man.” His soft caress sent chills up her spine. He’d seen them. Trent’s hand. What would he do to her now?

  He gripped her arms, turning her, then leaned in for a kiss. Bile rose in her mouth.

  She turned her face away.

  Glover flexed his hands on her arms a time or two and took a breath, inching even closer. “Don’t turn away from me. I’m not like Trenton. I get or take what I want, and no one can stop me.” His fingers grabbed her jaw and forced her to meet his eyes. “Not even you.” His lips devoured hers, promising what was yet to come. Ragged breaths filled her lungs when he released her. “Dinner is about to begin. You may sit with me.”

  Her hand flew to her stomach. “Glover. Please. I can’t go out there right now.”

  “I don’t know what has happened between you and Trenton, but I am not him. You will come because I say you will.” He grabbed her hand and yanked her forward, causing her to fall to her knees.

  “Let go. You’re hurting me.” She cried out in pain, but Glover didn’t relent.

  Mr. Easton came through the doorway at that moment. “Mr. Richards. I’ve been looking for you. Oh, Rosalind, did you fall?”

  Instantly, Glover bent and collected her against him as they rose. “Are you all right, dear?”

  She nodded. “I need to sit,” was all she could say as Mr. Easton collected Rosalind’s hands from Glover possessively. She winced from the pain in her wrist but said nothing.

  “Yes, of course, Rosalind. I’ll take you to a more comfortable room. Glover, supper is being served. Will you be so kind as to ask Trent to say grace and let him know I will return momentarily?”

  “I shall leave you then, Rosalind. Rest. I’ll be by later.” He kissed her cheek but didn’t linger.

  Rosalind’s body quivered and she could barely breathe, much less stand. “I need to sit, Mr. Easton.” She choked back tears as he guided her down the hall to the room farthest from the party and noise.

  “You will stay here with us tonight. I made sure every room in the house has been prepared for company. Now we’ll actually use it.”

  She couldn’t stay with the Eastons. That would only add more fuel to Glover’s anger, no matter that every instinct Rosalind possessed suggested she needed to hide from him. But where? Where could she go that Glover wouldn’t find her?

  In a bedroom, Mr. Easton led her to a burgundy chair.

  She slumped onto it. “Thank you,” she whispered, biting her lip to keep her tears at bay, eyes scanning the room, something for her gaze to land on.

  Mr. Easton cleared his throat, and her gaze found his. “Rosalind, I have a question I must ask. It’s quite personal, but I need to know.”

  What could he possibly want to know? Did he see Glover’s anger? Should she tell him what he’d done, hurting her? How she was being forced ... “I will try to answer.”

  “When is the wedding? Mariam told me Glover planned it for tonight, and I hoped she’d been mistaken.”

  What did it matter if he knew? He couldn’t stop the wedding. No one could. Not even her prayers, for God never heard her cries. “After the party.”

  Mr. Easton squeezed his eyes shut. “With the Lord’s help, we will keep you safe. You will not marry Glover tonight or ever.”

  What was he saying? A sinking sensation grew in the pit of her stomach, and fear jolted her to her feet. She grabbed his jacket, her wrist throbbing. “Leave Glover be, Mr. Easton, please. He will hurt you and your family. He has ways. I’ve heard of them. I can’t allow you to be hurt because of me.”

  His focus remained on her, compassion in his eyes. Rosalind released him then. “It would be the death of me for any one of you to be hurt ... or worse. I’d rather marry Glover.” She slid back into the chair. “When Mother was alive, I had dreams of a life filled with happiness, love, and growing old with someone.” She met his eyes, knowing he was a Godfearing person like her mother. “Why did God take my dreams away? Why did He abandon me in the process?”

  “Oh, child, God hasn’t taken your desires away. He wants to give you the desires of your heart. But Scripture also says the devil prowls around seeking to devour. Stand firm in your faith, Rosalind. God is with you, even now.”

  “I have no faith. All I feel is anguish and fear.”

  “Rosalind, I know this is hard to hear, but you need to know God is near. God will rescue you.”

  She wanted to have faith. Faith in the God her mother spoke of, and she once too believed in. But how could she now, when there was no peace, only loneliness? “God ignores my cries.”

  “The Lord hears, Rosalind.”

  Trent entered the room. He looked from his father to Rosalind, then to the wrist she cradled in her lap. He knelt at her feet. “I couldn’t find you. What happened? Are you hurt?” He gently took her wrist, and she winced at the pain once again. He studied her hand, fingers, and wrist intently, then her face. “It doesn’t seem to be broken. What happened?”

  Mr. Easton closed the door before he spoke, his brows drawing together in a frown. “Glover.”

  Rosalind stood, and Trent rose with her. “Mr. Easton. Please.” She wanted to deny it but remained silent as Trent’s blue eyes peered into hers. Something passed over his features, and his lips thinned into a fine line.

  “He’s the one who caused you pain before—the bruise on your cheek, the marks on your arms—when Mother attended you. He was the cause of it all.”

  It wasn’t a question. Trent knew regardless if she admitted to the abuse or not.

  “I walked in and saw him hurting her,” his father continued, “forcing her to the ground. “I need the train ticket you bought for tonight. Do you still have it? Rosalind is in danger. We need that ticket.”

  It took them both a moment to understand what his father was asking. Trent was the first to respond. “You’re sending her to our home?”

  “As long as Glover doesn’t suspect she’s there, I believe she’ll be safe.”

  “I can’t leave.” Neither man looked her way but continued as if they hadn’t heard her speak.

  “Then I’m going with her to make sure she’ll be safe.”

  “You can’t. What happens when Glover comes in the morning and you’re both gone? He will assume you are together and hunt you down, but if you remain here and Rosalind disappears, you will not be involved.”

  Rosalind was stunned into silence. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Leaving for Texas? “I can’t go! I won’t go!”

  Both men turned.

  “You don’t understand,” she pleaded. “Glover threatened my life. My father’s and Sydney’s, too, if we don’t agree to his terms. I will not put my family’s lives at risk. I must marry him tomorrow.”

  Trent’s brows rose. “But it’s fine for your father to put your life in danger and sentence you to death. That’s what might happen if you marry Glover, and I won’t allow it, Rosalind.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, son, because she leaves tonight. Tomorrow, you’ll leave on the train everyone knew you were taking. We will have her stay in Fort Worth and wait for you until you get there the next day.”

  “I don’t want to let her go alone. It’s not safe.”

  “God will protect her.”

  “How, when we’re not together?”

  “By giving her your name.”

  Trent stilled. A question held in his gaze.

  A tightening clenched Rosalind’s chest, and her pulse began to race. She couldn’t believe what his father suggested. She shook her head. “I can’t ... I can’t marry you. I... My family...”

  “Maria
m and I will stay to make sure Glover doesn’t touch your family. I have my ways. You have my word. I won’t leave them. I made that mistake before, especially with your father, and it won’t happen again.”

  Trent came to her, and Rosalind’s breath caught in her throat. “Be my bride. Allow me the honor of being your husband. To love, honor, and cherish you for the rest of our lives.”

  Heat stole into her cheeks. She couldn’t answer, nor did she know how. This is what she dreamed, yet what about her father, Sydney, and the children? Mr. Easton gave his word, but could he protect her family and themselves? What would happen if Glover retaliated against the Eastons?

  She said nothing.

  Trent reached into his pocket and withdrew a white cloth, then unveiled a gold band with a set of diamonds shaped in a circle. She gasped. Her mother’s wedding ring. “How did you...”

  He knelt in front of her. “Marry me, Rose.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The only thing Rosalind could hear was the echoing of her heart pounding against her soul. Was this a dream? Was she even breathing? She laid her hand against her chest. She was awake. This was truly happening. Trent wanted to marry her.

  Glover’s face flashed through her thoughts, and she fought to push the angry image away but failed.

  “I love you, Rosalind.” Trent’s blue eyes remained fixed on her, his voice raw with emotion.

  He’d loved her all this time. Could God have loved her all this time as well? Could it be He’d never left her, as her mother said? Or, as Mr. Easton said only moments ago, that He would rescue her? Was God rescuing her now by sending her to Texas, to leave her loved ones in danger?

  Faith, my child.

  Trent rose to his feet. “God will protect you. He will protect your family.”

  His voice left little doubt he believed his words to be true, yet tears filled her eyes, and one by one, they rolled down her cheek. “I want to believe you. I want to know God loves me and will protect me and my family—to have faith.”