The Rescue

by Tanya Eavenson

  He wiped her tears with the tip of his finger. “I dreamed about you.”

  “Me?”

  “On the way here. On the train. I dreamed you were in the middle of a field, within a sheepfold.”

  “What was I doing there?”

  “You were one of the sheep, but as I continued to dream, wolves snuck in and all the other sheep vanished, but it was you who remained.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The dream never finished, but I realize now I’m the one God called to rescue you ... from Glover. You believe I love you, yet you’re struggling to know God’s love, and He’s the one who sent me.” He slid her mother’s ring into one palm and dabbed her cheek with her mother’s handkerchief with his other hand. “The way to have faith is to step out, forgetting about your fears and doubts, and to trust God that whatever happens, He will be there.”

  A movement caught her eye, and Trent turned to where her gaze traveled. Mr. Easton had walked to the door. “There’s not much time,” he said, causing Trent to pull his hand away.

  She felt lost without the comfort of his touch. Loneliness settled around her shoulders like a heavy quilt.

  “We need to head back to the party or Glover will be suspicious.” Trent met his father at the door.

  No! Don’t leave! Her chest tightened as she took a step toward them. She wanted to believe, to have faith, to trust. Forget your fears and doubts ... trust God ... step out ... faith.

  She could barely breathe. “Yes.”

  Both men turned back to her, and Trent’s gaze intensified. “What did you say?”

  “Yes. I’ll marry you. Tonight.”

  Trent scooped her up and kissed her soundly. She couldn’t explain it, but joy and peace lit the dark shadows of her heart. Faith, foreign only moments ago, took root, clenching her soul. How could this have happened? A dream? No, this was definitely not a dream, for Trent’s embrace held a promise and a future.

  Mr. Easton cleared his throat. “We need a plan since the marriage will take place during the party. We will need to keep everyone in the dark of what’s going on, especially Glover. Dr. Clark will be sitting at my left during dinner. I will ask him to see to you, Rosalind, though we know the outcome of his visit. Nevertheless, it’s for Glover’s benefit. After he leaves, I’m certain Glover will come to see you.” He slid his timepiece from his pocket and flipped the latch. “Two hours until the train departs from the station. We need to hurry.”

  Trent intertwined their fingers and gave hers a gentle squeeze. “I’ll speak with Pastor John.”

  Rosalind inhaled a deep breath, and a fluttering took flight within her stomach. Within the hour, she’d be Mrs. Trenton Easton.

  Yes. Rosalind’s word still echoed in Trent’s ears and radiated within his heart, even now as he took the back stairs to the kitchen. Mother was with Rosalind in his old bedroom, and his father was filling his mother in on what transpired only moments ago. He still couldn’t believe they were to be married.

  By the time they entered the dining hall, their guests were halfway through the meal. Trent sat in his chair while his father went to his place at the head of the table. Still standing, he smiled to their guests. “I’m terribly sorry we are late. One of our guests has become ill, and Mariam is attending to her now. As some of you are aware, Trent will be heading back to Texas tomorrow morning and we will miss him greatly.” His father raised his glass. “To my son, whom I love. It gives me great pleasure seeing the man you’ve become and the man you will continue to be, trusting God every step of the way.”

  Trent nodded and smiled at his father as he claimed his chair. Voices rose and filled the dining hall once again. Trent glanced at Dr. Clark, who sat closest to his father. Their plan had to work precisely.

  Yet it was God who led him to Boston for Rosalind. Even if the plan didn’t work as they hoped, God was in control, and He alone would be their protection, their fortress.

  “Mr. Easton.” Glover got Mr. Easton’s attention the moment he walked away from a group of men that included the mayor and governor. Although the man no longer lived in Boston, his influence couldn’t be denied, and it angered Glover that much more. For the first time since he’d seen Rosalind visit her father at the bank several years earlier, he sensed himself losing control of his plan to make Rosalind his wife. Their hold over Rosalind couldn’t be allowed, but with Trent leaving, and their marriage tomorrow, the ties were about to be cut. For good. But for now he needed to find Rosalind.

  Glover held out his hand, and Mr. Easton returned the gesture with a firm shake. “Wonderful party.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Mr. Richards.”

  “I was wondering if you’ve seen Rosalind? I haven’t been able to locate her. She isn’t with your son or your wife.”

  “Oh, yes. I told my wife to escort Dr. Clark to where Rosa-lind is resting. He’s checking on Rosalind’s wrist. It seemed to be bothering her, and since the doctor was already in the house ...” He chuckled. “Less on the bill, you know.” He began walking, and Glover followed.

  “I guess you are right. Did she say how she hurt her wrist?”

  “No.” He directed him away from the guests. “I told her not to be concerned about missing the party. Trent will understand.”

  “So, she’s resting. Good.” Good girl. She knew the cost if she spoke a word of what happened. Maybe he would reward her with a new gown. Chocolate. A reminder to stay on his good side. “Do you know if she’s eaten? I’d like to take her a tray. If she’s feeling ill, she’ll need to keep up her strength.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll order a tray to be taken to the room. I shall be but a moment, then we may go together to see how Rosalind is faring.”

  Glover quickly sidestepped to allow a woman with blonde hair, hands full with dishes, to enter the kitchen. Mr. Easton was on her heels.

  Within minutes, the man exited, and Glover followed right behind him, up the stairs to another hallway. The doctor came through the doorway as they were about to enter.

  “How is she, Dr. Clark?” Mr. Easton blocked Glover from entering the room, yet he could see Rosalind. She sat in a burgundy chair, her shoulders slumped, eyes closed. A sense of pride rose up within him as he watched her. She was an exquisite creature like no other woman before her, and his desire for her tormented him. He had waited much too long to take her as his wife. Even now, he couldn’t touch her if he so wished, and it angered him.

  The doctor announced her wrist wasn’t broken but would be tender.

  He knew she was fine. If he’d broken anything, he would have felt the pop in his hands. A feeling he was familiar with. He inhaled several breaths, reining in his pulse.

  “Thank you.” Mr. Easton shook the doctor’s hand. “We appreciate you taking a look.”

  “Not a problem. Glad I could be of service. If you’d excuse me, my wife and I have a waltz to dance.” He smiled as he left.

  Finally able to enter, Glover eyed her, willing her to hold her tongue. “How are you feeling, Rosalind?”

  “Still a bit tired.”

  Mariam laid her palm on his arm. “I told Rosalind she is staying with us tonight and that no is not an acceptable answer. When I leave, I will speak with Sydney about getting her things for the night.”

  Mr. Easton nodded. “I will send the driver to collect them.”

  Glover opened his mouth to protest, just as the woman with blonde hair from the kitchen strolled in, placed a tray on a table near the corner of the room by the window, then left.

  Mariam bent down and kissed Rosalind’s forehead. “I will be back after I speak with your sister. Thomas, may I speak with you in the hall?”

  Glover waited until they were out of earshot, although he could clearly see them outside the door. He forced his irritation under control before whispering, “How did you manage an invitation?”

  She stiffened.

  “No matter. I will be back for you tomorrow shortly after breakfast. Be ready.
” He dragged a finger along her jaw, eyes filling with the view. When Rosalind’s face grew pale, satisfaction lifted his lips. She’d finally be his. “Yes, be ready.”

  Only moments ago, Glover’s gaze had burned Rosalind as his eyes raked over her body. The promise of tomorrow caused fear to plummet deep within her soul, sickening her stomach. Now, hidden within a bedroom on the second floor as the party continued downstairs, Pastor John stood and opened a small Bible he withdrew from his pocket. Trent gently collected her trembling hands, his calloused palms reminding her of the new life awaiting her in Texas.

  Mr. and Mrs. Easton came quickly to stand next to them.

  “Let us begin,” Pastor John said.

  Did the pastor always carry a Bible for occasions such as this? Did that mean there were others in the same situation? She had a feeling the answer was no. Her mind rambled in any effort to block out the fear knotting within her heart. Glover could walk in on them. Was she placing her entire family at risk for another rash moment? She glanced at the closed door and inhaled a deep breath, fighting the tremors in her hands, as the queasiness rose even more within her stomach.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining, in holy matrimony, of Trenton Parker Easton and Rosalind Lynn Standford ...”

  Rosalind glanced at Trent. Fear led her to this moment. But selfishness took over at wanting to be free of Glover’s abuse. How could she put her loved ones in danger like this?

  As if Trent could read her thoughts, he said, “Have faith, Rose.”

  Fear slowly ebbed away at the gentleness of his words and the strength she felt as he held her hands. No longer was he the boy she once knew. Trent stood tall. A man. Strong in body but even stronger in his faith. Faith she was afraid to call her own. But as Trent’s thumb gently rubbed over her knuckles, she so desperately wanted to believe. Believe that God did indeed hear her cries in heaven and that He had brought the Eastons to Boston. For Trent to marry her. Rescue her.

  “Do you have a ring?” Pastor John asked.

  Trent released her hand, reached into his pocket, and pulled her mother’s ring out. Tears filled her eyes. Her mother had given her approval of Trent long ago. If only she were here. She wondered if she were watching from heaven. Never had she missed her mother more than now.

  “Trenton, place the ring on her finger and both of you repeat after me.”

  The pastor began the vows.

  “Rosalind,” Trent whispered. His blue eyes drew her and held as powerful as a magnet, like the love they’d shared. Slipping the ring on her finger, he repeated the pastor’s words.

  Rosalind’s tears hung heavy from her lashes before falling down her face. By the end of Trent’s vows, when he finally said, “I do,” both her cheeks were wet with tears. Trent brought his hand up and dried both with his handkerchief.

  Barely able to think or breathe, she repeated every word Trent had just said, and when the last “I do” passed her lips, the minister addressed them.

  “In the eyes of Boston and in the eyes of God, you are now man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  Trent cocked his head and ran a finger along her cheek, wiping away any remnant of tears. When he opened his mouth to speak, his father came up behind them.

  “I need to return to the party, and you need to go, son. You don’t have much time. Rosalind, when we all return to Texas, we’ll celebrate, but for now, know how much we love you.” He hugged her.

  “Thomas, move.” Mariam gave her husband a playful nudge and moved to face Rosalind, clasping her in a hug. “You were always my daughter. It’s official now. Be safe. We’ll be pray-ing.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Easton.”

  “No, dear, that’s your name. Call me Mariam.”

  Rosalind gave her another hug.

  “Follow me,” Mr. Easton said, grabbing the overnight bag Sydney collected at Mrs. Easton’s request.

  She hated to leave her sister, the children, or her father with not so much as a goodbye. But what choice did she have? Sadness filled her as she and Trent rushed down the hall.

  “Take the back stairs. Hurry.” His father continued to lead, but when they reached the stairs, he glanced back to them and nodded before turning in the opposite direction down the hallway.

  As they descended, someone came from the shadows and any hope of escape evaporated. She gasped. “Father!” Something passed over his eyes, but Trent took her hand and rushed them outside toward a covered carriage. Once inside, the door closed behind Trent, and her heart pounded along with the horse’s hooves on the ground.

  Rosalind shut her eyes. She inhaled, exhaled, fighting the tightness in her chest. Did her father sense her leaving or that she had married the man she loved against his wishes? Would he tell Glover her secret to save his own life?

  “Not much longer and you’ll be safe.” Trent’s warm hands took her cold ones and caressed her palm and wrist. “Does it still hurt?”

  Emotions Rosalind couldn’t begin to explain welled up in her throat. “A ... a bit, but it will be all right.”

  “He’ll never hurt you again.” Trent released her hands. “You’ll go to Chicago. Get off. Then buy your ticket to Fort Worth, Texas. The day after you pull in, wait for me at the station. My train leaves tomorrow morning so I’ll be right behind you.” He pulled money from his pocket. “This should be enough.”

  She’d never seen so much money. She shook her head, pushing it away. “I can’t take this.”

  “You must, Rosalind.” He placed the money in her hand. “You need to get home.”

  “I have no place to keep it safe.”

  “Your bag. You can hide the money within your things.”

  When they arrived at the train station, Trent hurried out, grabbed her bag, and stuffed the money between her clothes. He took her elbow and quickly led her to the station platform. Though it was dark, steam from the train filled the air and hung heavy like her heart. She was leaving everything and everyone she’d known behind, even her husband. She found it hard to look away from him.

  The train’s whistle screeched. Her pulse sounded in her ears. She swallowed.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered, taking her in his arms and brushing his lips gently across hers. Before she could respond, he released her. “I’ll be praying for you.”

  Her heart hammered as she tried to steady her nerves and walk toward the train, but her feet wouldn’t corporate. How could they when all she wanted was to cling to him, beg him to leave with her?

  “Please, Rosalind, you must hurry.”

  The strain in his voice snapped her to her senses. She wouldn’t be safe until she climbed aboard and the train barreled down the tracks, away from him, away from Boston. She nodded and, without another thought, did as he asked and boarded the train. Several heads turned in her direction. One woman whispered something to the other woman sitting with her and pointed. Rosalind’s gaze fell to what the ladies saw. She was overdressed. The reality of what transpired in the last hour hit her full force. Her ball gown had become her wedding dress.

  Rosalind was married.

  She glanced at her mother’s ring, and tears filled her eyes once again. We’re married, Mother. I finally married Trenton.

  The train’s whistle shrilled, and, with a jerk, the train pulled away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shadows danced against the light of his house as Trent ordered the driver to stop and let him out several yards away. Stepping out of the carriage into the crisp air, Trent scurried up against the stone home and entered the way he and Rosalind had left. Music sifted through the stairwell, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Rosalind. Lord, please protect her.

  The music ended, and he hurried into action to blend in with the guests. Several couples took the stairs as he descended and rounded the corner. One, he believed, was the mayor. “Mr. and Mrs. Hart, I hope you’re having a wonderful time.”

  Mr. Hart’s gray beard shook as he turned. “Wh
y, Mr. Easton. Lovely party. I would like you to meet my wife, Elizabeth.”

  Trent bowed. “Wonderful to meet you.”

  Mrs. Hart gave a smile, then nodded. “Likewise, Mr. Easton. We were about to dance. Would you care to join us?” She raised a reddish eyebrow.

  It seemed odd, but was she daring him to turn down her offer? “Thank you, but I have no partner.”

  “Nonsense.” Mrs. Hart looked past him and waved her hand. “Rita, dear,” her voice boomed. “Where is that daughter of yours? Mr. Easton needs a partner.”

  No. I need no partner, he was about to say when a short, stocky woman pushed through the crowd and sauntered to Mrs. Hart’s side.

  The woman—Rita, he assumed—twisted toward his guests. “The last I saw Mary, she was dancing with a gentleman.”

  Mrs. Hart spun back to him. “We’ll find her. Come, Mr. Easton. You will make a fine pair.” She took the mayor’s arm.

  Mr. Hart laughed, slanting a look at him. “Watch out. My wife is a matchmaker.”

  Mrs. Hart patted her husband’s arm. “Don’t listen to him, Mr. Easton. Come, Rita. We must find her.”

  What had just happened? Trent didn’t know, but before he could think on it, Rita chuckled and slipped her arm around Trent’s elbow. He shook his head to himself. This wasn’t what he intended. As they neared the couples gathering on the floor to dance, Trent hoped Rita’s daughter was committed to someone else for the next waltz.

  Rita squeezed his arm and pointed. “There she is, in the golden-colored gown.”

  A young woman with dark hair came toward them. Two men followed on both sides.

  Rita released his arm. “Mary, dear, I want you to meet Mr. Easton, our host. Mr. Easton, my daughter, Miss Mary Ondervan.”

  Mary curtsied, her violet eyes holding his.

  “Mr. Easton needs a dance partner and I thought—”

  “Of course, Mother.” She batted her long lashes at Trent.

  He, on the other hand, forced back a sigh and nodded. She was beautiful, but he wasn’t interested. Rosalind. The thought warmed him. She was the one who held his heart captive from the first moment they met. He was nothing without her. He couldn’t dance with Mary, but as he was about to explain his heart was taken, Glover appeared in the corner of his eye.