The Rescue

by Tanya Eavenson

  Oliver met Rosalind at the door. Tears were in his eyes, and she decided then not to tell them about her predicament. Catherine must have worsened. Stealing herself for what was to come, Rosalind took a breath. “How is she?”

  When he gave a slight shake of his head, her heart fell.

  “The doctor has already left.” He bent, lifted Lilly, and held her close. “Thank you, Rosalind. You’ve helped us more than you know.”

  “I’m thankful I could help.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile but failed. Instead, she placed a hand on his arm, then turned and walked away. There was nothing more she could say. Nothing more she could do.

  The conductor waited at the end of the hall. “Follow me, Mrs. Easton.”

  With a heavy breath, she obeyed, yet everything within her wanted to baulk.

  “In a few minutes we will be stopping. You’ll be escorted off at that time.” He took her to a small office compartment where another gentleman was busy cleaning the space. The conductor pulled out a chair from the wooden desk and motioned for her to sit opposite him. He opened a cabinet and withdrew a white sheet of paper. “Now tell me your name, where you boarded, and your destination.”

  Rosalind glanced at the other man, who now leaned on his broom and stared. “My name is Rosalind Easton, I boarded in Chicago, and I’m heading to Fort Worth.”

  “Mrs. Easton, you’ve broken the law riding without a ticket. You will be held accountable. If you couldn’t pay for the train fair, you shouldn’t have gotten on the train.”

  “I purchased a ticket, but somehow I lost it. If you’d allow me to go back to my room, I can prove I have the money for the ticket. I have spoken with Mr.—”

  “How do you have a cabin without a ticket?” He eyed her, a frown forming on his lips.

  She studied her hands and remained silent. Should she involve the Hadleys and cause Oliver to lose his job?

  The train jerked and the whistle blew. They were slowing. She faced him again. “Please. If you’d—”

  The conductor held up his hand, stealing her words. He tapped his fingers on the desk, then rose, narrowing his gaze. “You stay put.” He whispered something to the other man who had been cleaning, and they both left the room.

  He didn’t believe her. Rosalind was sure of it. She needed her things from her cabin if she’d ever prove her innocence. She peeked out into the hallway. All clear. Lifting her skirt, she hurried back the way she’d come, passing through several cars. One more and she’d be back into the dining car.

  As she approached the last door, it opened suddenly. There in the doorway stood the conductor, blocking her way.

  Rosalind glanced around. She was caught, trapped. Her heart raced within her throat, and she tried to swallow against the knot it made. The conductor came toward her.

  She backed away. “I was going to my room to grab my things.”

  “You never answered me. How do you have a room without a ticket? Did you break in as well?”

  Before Rosalind could answer, she watched Oliver come through the doorway holding Lilly in his arms. “I gave it to her,” he said.

  The conductor spun to face Oliver. “Mr. Hadley. D-do you know this woman?”

  “Mrs. Easton is a friend, and our families have known each other for years. And right now, my wife is in distress. My daughter has informed us you will be taking Mrs. Easton by force from the train. Is this true?”

  “She ... she cannot prove she purchased a ticket. It is the law.”

  Oliver set Lilly down, his gaze softening. “Take Mrs. Easton to see Mama. Mama will want to see her before we leave the train.”

  Lilly ran to her, grabbed her hand, and tugged. Rosalind met Oliver’s gaze as she squeezed past him. Oliver and Catherine were getting off the train? Was that fear she witnessed in his eyes? Catherine must be more ill than Rosalind thought.

  She gave Lilly’s hand a light squeeze. “Hurry, sweet pea.”

  When they reached the room, Rosalind knocked before they entered. A trunk and two other bags sat by the door. Lilly’s hand tightened around hers, drawing her gaze to Catherine lying in bed, shivering. Sweat dotted her forehead. Rosalind needed to distract the child for a brief moment in hopes of speaking with Catherine alone.

  “Lilly, do you know where your rabbit, Mr. Sanders, is?” Rosalind asked.

  Lilly nodded and began to search her luggage for the stuffed rabbit.

  Rosalind hurried to the side of the bed and knelt. Catherine’s once-rosy cheeks were deathly pale, her hair matted with sweat against her forehead. “Catherine. What can I do?” She slipped a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her sweat-soaked hair and face.

  “You’re safe.” Her lips lifted slightly, but tears ran from her eyes and down her cheek.

  Oliver entered at that moment and knelt beside his wife, next to Rosalind, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. He took over wiping Catherine’s face.

  “I lost my baby, Rosalind.” Catherine’s breath became labored. “I might not live.”

  “Don’t say that.” Rosalind shook her head. Her mind flashed back to the night her mother died. I might not live—the same words spoken mere hours before her death. “You won’t die.” Yet Rosalind had uttered those same words to her mother.

  With her rabbit in hand, Lilly ran to the bed and climbed in beside Catherine. Her little eyes filled with moisture. Oliver rose and motioned for Rosalind to follow him outside the cabin.

  Tears formed in his eyes. “I need you to do something, Rosalind. It’s important.”

  “I don’t know if I can.” She looked toward the doorway, unable to meet his eyes. “The conductor ... I’m going to jail.”

  “No, Rosalind. I oversee this train and the others. You will not be prosecuted. Everything has been taken care of as I promised you, and I spoke to the conductor about a few other things.”

  “What other things?”

  “I need your help. I need you to take Lilly with you to Texas. She will need you.” He looked away. “What Catherine said is true.”

  Rosalind cringed, unable to speak. What was Oliver asking? Was this really happening? Please, God. Not another death.

  His jaw clenched. “I can’t let her watch Catherine die.”

  “You can’t separate Lilly from her mother. She’ll be devastated.”

  “I’m trying to do what is right, Rosalind.” His voice lowered as he met her gaze. “Catherine is so worried about Lilly seeing her this way ... and the blood. Please, I’m asking you to be her guardian. Would you rather Lilly watch her mother die?”

  Rosalind listened to Oliver’s plea as years-old pain and fear swept over her again. How could she take Lilly from her mother? But the alternative ... watching her mother die as Rosalind had done ... she’d never wish that on anyone, especially a small child. And she’d never want Lilly to feel hopeless and alone.

  “Please, Rosalind. We have no family that can take her.”

  Rosalind swallowed against tears. “Does Catherine know what you’re asking?”

  He shook his head ever so slightly, yet Rosalind expected she knew the answer. “She will accept my wishes. It will tear her apart, sending Lilly away, but she will understand this is for the best.” Oliver cleared his throat. “Please.”

  Closing her eyes, Rosalind fought back the memories of how she watched her own mother gasp for air, taking her last breath. If only she would have had someone to help her through... “Yes. I’ll care for Lilly.” The train slowed and the clickety-clack echoed in her ears, then slowly stopped.

  Oliver pushed through the door and Rosalind followed. “Lilly, Mama and Papa have to go somewhere, but you’re going to stay with Mrs. Easton for a little while.”

  Catherine struggled to sit up. Fresh tears rolled down her jaw. Rosalind watched as she reached over and gently touched her little girl’s face.

  “Mama, I want to go with you. Why can’t I go with you?”

  “Because, my sweet girl, I don’t feel well. I need to go t
o the doctor, and I don’t know how long I will be there. Rosalind will take good care of you until Papa comes for you.” A flicker of emotion skipped between them, causing Rosalind to jerk her eyes from the unspeakable pain she witnessed.

  “We will be leaving in a few minutes.” Oliver collected their things and left the room.

  Rosalind glanced at Catherine. Had she given up hope she’d live by not including herself when Oliver came for Lilly? She slowly looked away from her friend, suppressing a sob, and collected Lilly’s hand. “That’s right, Lilly.” She swallowed hard, fighting to make her words clear and hopeful for all their sakes. “We’ll go on an adventure together. How does that sound? We’ll stay at a ranch where they have horses. Do you like horses?”

  Lilly nodded, gripping her rabbit against her chest with her other hand.

  Oliver returned and helped his wife stand. “A carriage will be waiting for us outside. Do you need me to carry you?”

  Catherine looked down at her daughter. “I’ll walk.”

  Oliver took his wife’s elbow and wrapped his arm around her waist, helping her rise. Blood marred her dress and the bedding where she’d lain. Rosalind turned Lilly so she wouldn’t see the stains.

  Once off the train, Oliver supported his wife into the carriage, then took Lilly into his arms. “I love you, my dear girl, with all my heart. I promise I will come for you very soon. And you listen and obey Mrs. Easton ... always.”

  “Yes, Papa. I will.” She hugged him tightly.

  A tear slid down Oliver’s cheek. “Now give your mama kisses while I speak with Mrs. Easton.” He put her in the carriage and returned to Rosalind. “Where did you say you’ll be staying? At the Easton ranch?”

  “Yes, in Graham, Texas.”

  Oliver glanced to the carriage, then back at her. “You both will stay in the room I provided—it’s my personal quarters—but do not go back until it’s cleaned. Take Lilly to get ice cream while you wait. And for the duration of your trip, everything will be provided for you both. I give you my word.” Oliver wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “Pray, Rosalind. Pray she lives.” He walked back to the carriage and hugged Lilly a final time.

  Never had Rosalind seen a man love his family more than Oliver, and it crushed her to see their anguish. Knowing she’d never felt the love of her father the way she witnessed through Oliver and Lilly hurt her that much more.

  Rosalind bit her lip to keep from crying. Lilly came to her, and Rosalind lifted the child and they waved goodbye. With a deep breath, she turned back to the train.

  Later that night, unable to sleep, Rosalind peered at Lilly’s sweet face. She pulled the sheet under her chin and listened to her light breathing. Oliver had asked Rosalind to pray. But he didn’t know that God had never answered her prayers when she cried out for Him to save her own mother. Why would He hear her prayer now? But the ache for Lilly to hold her mother once again sent Rosalind to kneel by the bed.

  God, if you would hear just this one prayer...

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rosalind glanced at their bags in the room, then bent to button Lilly’s red-and-yellow silk sweater. She pulled on one of her pigtails. “Are you ready for an adventure?”

  Lilly shook her head slowly.

  Rosalind wasn’t sure she was ready to go either. Their routine on the train had given them a sense of home and security, but they had to leave. Lilly grasped her hand tightly. Whatever they’d face, they had each other.

  The conductor came to their door, avoiding her gaze. “Ma’am, may I take your bags? Your carriage is waiting.”

  “But I did not call for a carriage. I had planned to stay in Fort Worth until tomorrow.” How would Trent find her?

  He eyed her then. “Mr. Hadley ordered the carriage. We ... the driver has strict orders to take you to Mr. Easton’s ranch.”

  “Papa?” Lilly’s emerald eyes—exactly like her mother’s—peered up at Rosalind.

  She allowed room for the conductor to enter and collect their bags, then knelt in front of the child. “Your papa is taking very good care of you. He arranged for us to be carried to my new home. He will meet us there after your mama gets well.” She clasped Lilly’s small hands within hers. “Can I tell you a secret? I’m a little nervous about being in a new place, and I’m thankful you’re accompanying me. And now I’ll have someone to help me pick flowers. Would you like to pick flowers?”

  A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “As many as I want?”

  The light in Lilly’s eyes brought a smile of her own. “Of course. But first we must ride in the carriage your papa sent.”

  Lilly squeezed her hand and pulled her out of the room. “I like to pick flowers. Mama always lets me carry the basket.”

  They stepped from the train, meeting the sun’s blinding rays head on. Dry heat tightened Rosalind’s throat. And the odor ...

  “Rose, what’s that smell?” Lilly pinched her nose.

  Rosalind was tempted to do the same. What was that terrible smell? This was Texas? The place Trent lived? The place he loved? She raised her hand and shielded her eyes, scanning the crowds, she realized, looking for Glover. Her heart tripped at the thought.

  I’m safe here. I’m safe here. She fought against the wave of fear and nausea rising in the pit of her stomach and forced her mind back to the task at hand. Maybe it was better she left Fort Worth sooner than later. The conductor set their bags down on the platform, said goodbye, then returned to the train.

  Rosalind stood on the toes of her shoes and continued to skim the area. Tall horned animals ruled the roads, and men on horseback outnumbered the wagons. Where was the carriage, and who was taking them to Graham?

  An older gentleman with a blue shirt, jeans, and a cowboy hat came straight toward them. He tilted his hat, revealing gray brows that almost touched. “Ma’am, are ya Mrs. Easton?”

  Her brow raised at the question, noticing the twang in his voice. “Yes ... I am.”

  “I’m to take ya home.” He snatched their bags from the ground and proceeded in the opposite direction without them.

  “Excuse me, sir.” Rosalind grabbed Lilly’s free hand, the one she wasn’t using to hold her nose, and as properly as she could manage, closed the distance between them. “What is your name?”

  The driver glanced back at her, and his smile lit his eyes. “Sir?” He chuckled. “Haven’t heard that one before. Walter, ma’am. But everyone calls me Walt.”

  Rosalind was so focused on Walt throwing their bags into the wagon that her foot caught on a hole and she stumbled on the edge of her dress, almost taking Lilly down with her. Rosalind pulled at her hem sweeping across the dirt like a broom. Surely it would be rags by the time she arrived wherever she was going. With her dress ruined, she’d only have her gown from the party and one other. She needed to find a place to purchase a few things, but she certainly couldn’t ask this man to take them to a general store for clothes and undergarments. Remembering the night she left made her thankful she escaped at all.

  “Let me help you.” Walt hoisted Lilly in the back of the wagon and set her on her feet. He spun to Rosalind next, but she held out her hand to stop him, eyes wide. She didn’t know this man, and who knew if he was telling her the truth. She needed to protect herself and Lilly. Yet how else would he have known they needed a ride if not for Oliver? Granted, it wasn’t a carriage as the conductor mentioned, but so far, Texas wasn’t what she expected either.

  “I think we’ll both sit up front with you on the bench seat.” Regardless of where she sat, this strange man would not be taking her at the waist and lifting her the way he had Lilly. Just the thought made her cheeks warm.

  When Rosalind was finally in her seat with Lilly perched between her and the driver, she looked over the crowd of animals and cowboys. She’d never seen so many animals.

  A cowboy trotted up to the wagon and tilted his hat. “Well, ain’t you a sight, little lady.”

  Rosalind glanced at Lilly. A sight? Lilly’s
hair was brushed. Her sweater, appropriate—although she really should take it off now. Rosalind didn’t want her to have a heat stroke, but her pale-pink dress looked lovely on her. “I think she’s a beautiful little girl.”

  The cowboy gave a deep chuckle. “I was speakin’ to you.” His lopsided grin showed a missing tooth.

  Walt pointed. “Best be on your way, mister. Your herd’s scattin’.”

  The cowboy yelled something to a man yards away, then yanked the reins to turn his horse.

  Rosalind removed Lilly’s sweater and watched in fascination as the men managed to move the cattle. Was this the kind of work Trent did?

  As they drove, the heavens became a canvas of colors. Yellows, oranges, and pinks streaked the sky exactly the way Trent had described, as if God himself had taken His finger and run it through the clouds. Rosalind pointed. “Look, Lilly. Isn’t the sun breathtaking? And the clouds? God’s masterpiece.”

  “Mama always said we are His masterpiece. Oh, look, Rose! The sun looks like it’s sinking into the ground.”

  “It does seem to be.” She pulled Lilly against her side and wrapped her arms around her waist. They sat in silence and watched as the orange ball inched slowly to the earth. It was beautiful, like nothing Rosalind had ever witnessed.

  “We’re here.” Walt pointed down the hill. A white two-story home with a wraparound porch seemed to rise up from the ground. “The Easton Ranch is the only place ’round with a two-level home.”

  Trent’s house. She leaned her chin on Lilly’s head. She was moving into his home. Her home.

  As they approached, a motion to the right caught her eye. A man was exiting the barn. “Well, hello, Walt,” he said as they stopped. He had brown hair, his voice deep and a bit raspy.

  “Be right back, ma’am.” Walt hopped down and shook hands with the man.

  “Rose, can we get down?”

  Rosalind glanced at Lilly. “Not yet, sweetie.” Her legs and backside hurt from sitting on the hard wooden seat, but she didn’t know what was better. Stay in the wagon where Walt—a man she’d only known for a few short hours—had left them or take her chances and get down.