It was damned rude of him to be so abrupt in his dismissal, wasn’t it? Would it have killed him to tell the woman he loved why he’d been in such a hurry to stop kissing her?
She thought he was behind her. “You’re as moody as your horse,” she muttered loud enough for him to hear.
He didn’t respond to her barb. She turned around to repeat her insult and realized then he couldn’t possibly have heard her. He was going in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?” she called out.
“To bed.”
It was late, but not that late. “Aren’t you coming back to the house tonight?”
“No.”
“Good night then.”
He didn’t return her farewell. She waited another minute, and when he reached the entrance of the bunkhouse and pushed the door open, she ran out of patience.
“Good night,” she shouted. She silently added the words damn it.
He finally turned around and looked at her. “Mary Rose?”
His voice was forceful enough to lift her off the ground.
The fanciful, impossible notion made her smile. “Yes?”
“Don’t keep me waiting.”
May 4, 1867
Dear Mama Rose,
We were all heartsick after we read your letter. We have a hundred questions to ask you. Why didn’t you tell us what Livonia was up to sooner? You shouldn’t have had to worry alone. We’re your family now, and you shouldn’t ever keep anything from us.
How long has Livonia been blackmailing you into staying with her? Yes, we know and we understand how afraid the old woman is. Being blind is terrible, of course it is, and being saddled with two self-centered sons who are trying to sell everything out from under her must be just as frightening, but, Mama Rose, none of her burdens can justify what she’s doing to you.
Do you really believe she’ll tell her sons Adam killed their father or could she be bluffing? Has she completely forgotten he was trying to protect you and Livonia from your master’s rage? Remember all the times he beat her? Livonia surely has suffered, but none of what has happened to her can make her sin against you easier for us to bear. Lincoln wanted you to have your freedom, and all the thousands of young men who gave up their lives in battle did so to ensure your freedom.
Now Mistress Livonia has bound you into slavery once again . . .
God protect us all,
Your loving son, Douglas
14
Cole and Eleanor stayed in the hallway kissing and hugging and whispering sweet nonsensical words to each other for a long while. He finally called a halt to the love play when he felt his control slipping. He was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it, but Eleanor wasn’t like any of the other women he’d kissed and bedded. There would have to be a commitment given before he slept with her, and damn it all, he wasn’t about to carry things that far.
He made up his mind never to kiss her again as he followed her back into the dining room. He held her chair out for her first and then walked around to the other side of the table to take his seat. He didn’t seem to notice his brothers were watching him. He was fully occupied mentally listing all the reasons he needed to stay away from the blushing virgin across from him.
“Didn’t you forget something?” Douglas asked his brother.
Travis had to nudge Cole to get him to answer.
“Like what?” Cole asked.
“Like your sister. She’s still in the kitchen with Harrison.”
Cole started to get up, then changed his mind. “Mary Rose is a big girl. She can take care of herself around Harrison. If he wants to give up his freedom, that’s his problem, not mine.”
“His freedom?” Douglas asked, trying hard not to laugh. He’d noticed Cole had stared at Eleanor when he’d made the comment about Harrison.
“Yes, his freedom,” his brother muttered. The set of his jaw indicated he didn’t want to continue with the discussion.
“I don’t think Harrison looks at it the way you do,” Travis interjected.
Eleanor wasn’t aware of the change in Cole. She smiled at him and said, “Mary Rose is very capable. All of our teachers at school thought so. She helped me get through a perfectly horrible mathematics class. I would have failed without her.”
Travis stared at Cole for another minute, then stood up and went into the kitchen to get Mary Rose. He didn’t care how capable his sister was. He knew Harrison and understood exactly what his intentions were. Cole may have adopted a lackadaisical attitude, but he certainly hadn’t.
He found his sister sitting at the kitchen table, staring off into space. Her face looked flushed to him.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Something’s wrong. You only look flustered when you’re sick or angry. Which is it?”
“Neither.”
“Where’s Harrison?”
“He went to bed.”
She wasn’t about to give her brother any further details. She therefore didn’t mention the fact that Harrison expected her to join him.
Don’t make me wait. Hadn’t he said those very words to her just minutes after he’d practically shoved her away from him?
“You’re angry, aren’t you?”
“I’m not angry.”
“You don’t have to snap your words at me. Tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I can fix it.”
She knew Travis wouldn’t quit pestering her until she satisfied his curiosity. She had to tell him something, even if it was only a half-truth.
“Arrogant men bother me. Can you fix that?”
Travis’s grin was slow and easy. “Harrison made you mad, didn’t he?”
“Please leave me alone. I need time to think.”
Her brother crossed the kitchen to get the coffeepot. “Is he . . .”
He didn’t quite know how to phrase the delicate question he wanted to ask.
“Is he what?”
He forced a shrug. “Pushing you to do something you don’t want to do?”
“He would never push me or force me to do anything I didn’t want to do.”
Travis nodded. “I didn’t think he would, but I still wanted to hear you tell me so. Answer one more question for me, and I promise I’ll leave you alone to stew.”
“I’m not stewing.”
“Do you love him?”
“Oh, yes, I love him.”
“You’re sure?”
She smiled. “I’m sure. He’s rude and bossy and arrogant and stubborn.”
“A girl can’t ask for more than that in a man.”
“He’s also kind and gentle and loving.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. Travis spotted them right away. “Are you going to cry about it, Mary Rose?”
“No, of course not.”
The miracle of his commitment was finally sinking in. He was going to love her until the day he died. Hadn’t he said those very words to her when he’d told her what was in his heart?
She let out a long sigh. A tear rolled down her cheek just as Travis turned to look at her.
“I’ve loved Harrison for a long time, Travis.”
Her sister’s voice had taken on a dreamy quality. Travis was disgusted.
“Honest to God, you’re starting to act just like a woman. Oh, I knew it was coming all right, but I still wasn’t ready. I wish you’d stop it, Mary Rose.”
“Exactly how does a woman act that offends you so?”
“Angry one minute, smiling the next, pouting and laughing at the same time, pretty much just the way you’re acting right now. You never used to be this emotional, little sister. I don’t like it.”
She wasn’t certain if she was supposed to apologize or not. Travis stared at her and suddenly saw her in a completely different light. She wasn’t a scabby-kneed little girl any longer. She was a beautiful woman.
“You grew up on me when I had my back turned, didn’t you?” he whispered.
She w
asn’t really paying attention to what her brother was saying to her. She had more matters to think about.
“Do you want to know when I fell in love with him? I know the exact minute when I ...”
He hastily interrupted her. “No, I don’t want to know,” he muttered. “Men don’t care about things like that. I’m still your brother, for God’s sake. I don’t want to hear any particulars about something that might have happened to you.”
“Nothing has happened between us I couldn’t tell you about.”
“Thank God for that. I don’t want to hear about it when it does. You got that, Mary Rose?”
When something happens? She leaned back in her chair and stared up at her brother. “You’re being rather presumptuous,” she said.
“No, I’m not. I’m just being blunt.”
“Yes, you are too,” she argued. “You’re also just as arrogant as Harrison is.”
He dismissed the remark, for he didn’t believe being arrogant was all that bad, even though his sister made it sound as though it was.
He lifted the coffeepot and turned to go back into the dining room. He stopped suddenly and turned to her again.
“If he ever hurts you, I want to be the first to know about it. You’ll tell me, won’t you?”
“Yes, I’ll tell you.”
He nodded with satisfaction. “I love you, brat.”
“I love you too. You like Harrison, don’t you?”
“It’s hard not to like him. I don’t like what he came here to do. You won’t either after we talk to you.”
“Oh, yes, the talk,” she whispered.
“He told you about . . .”
She interrupted him. “He told me you were going to tell me something. He didn’t tell me what the topic was. You can tell me now.”
He shook his head. “Wait until tomorrow night. Don’t frown about it. All right?”
“Travis, no matter what you tell me, I won’t hate him. Do you think I will?”
He didn’t believe she was capable of hating anyone. She was going to get her heart broken though. Travis was certain of that. Her entire world was going to be turned around on her, and it only seemed reasonable to Travis that she would blame Harrison. Travis certainly did.
“No, you won’t hate him,” he said. “Grab the cups for me, Mary Rose.”
He gave the order in an attempt to take her mind off of the subject of the coming meeting. He wanted her to remain happy and carefree for as long as possible.
He decided to turn her thoughts in another direction and told her about Cole and Eleanor.
“He’s beginning to realize he can’t mess with her. She’s the marrying kind. Cole isn’t.”
“Yes, he is,” she said. “He just doesn’t realize it yet. You are too, Travis. When the right woman comes along, you won’t think twice about getting married. You’re going to make a wonderful husband and father.”
“And give up my freedom? Are you out of your mind?”
She laughed. It was just the reaction he wanted.
“You’re sounding like Adam. Why do men think marriage ends their freedom?”
“Because it does,” he replied.
He started to leave the kitchen again, but she called him back. “Travis?”
“What now.”
“It was MacHugh.”
“What?”
“That’s when I fell in love with Harrison.”
He rolled his eyes. “I get it. You fell in love with his horse and figured Harrison was part of the package.”
He left the kitchen before she could make him understand. She didn’t mind. She was happy to be alone again so she could think about all the wonderful things the love of her life had said to her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. She couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful.
She stayed at the table for several minutes, until Travis called out to her. She took the cups into the dining room, passed them around, and then excused herself for the night.
She went up to her room and sat down on the side of the bed to think things over. She tried to forget Harrison was waiting for her. She couldn’t, of course. A warm knot formed in the pit of her stomach every time she glanced out the window and saw the light glowing in the window of the bunkhouse.
He was waiting for her to come to him. He had made her aware of her own body’s demands, given her a glimpse of passion, and now she couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened or that she hadn’t wanted him to give her more.
She wanted him because she loved him. He was still being horribly arrogant. Mary Rose stood up and began to pace back and forth while she thought about the way he’d given her his command. He hadn’t bothered to ask her. No, he’d assumed. Were all men like Harrison? She shook her head, discarding the possibility. No one had ever been this possessive with her or this high-handed. He was stubborn and willful, set in his ways, and sweet and giving and wonderful. No, there wasn’t anyone else in the world like Harrison Stanford MacDonald. And that was precisely why she’d fallen in love with him.
He hadn’t asked her to marry him. She tried to imagine him down on one knee begging for her hand in marriage and found herself smiling over the picture. He wouldn’t ask. He’d tell. He was entirely too presumptuous, of course, but she didn’t mind at all.
He was also being practical about their situation. It wasn’t possible to officially marry now. Blue Belle didn’t even have a church, and preachers were as scarce in the area as canned peaches. Hanging Judge Burns could perform the ceremony, but he was only available three or four times a year, the rest of the time the glut of men needing hanging demanded his full attention.
Harrison had made his commitment tonight with God as his witness. And she had done the same. Now everything was going to change.
She didn’t have any idea how long she paced around the bedroom, pondering over her future, but the house was dark and quiet when she finally quit worrying about all the changes in her life she was going to experience. She took her time washing every inch of her body with her rosescented soap, then put on her white nightgown. She added her pink, lace-trimmed robe Douglas had given her last Christmas, then sorted through her wardrobe in search of her impractical but lovely satin slippers.
She was still nervous and somewhat afraid of what was going to happen, yet she knew fretting about it wouldn’t change anything. Loving Harrison didn’t frighten her. The act of making love, however, was another matter altogether. Men liked it, she knew, because of the way her brothers ran to Hammond every other week and came home wearing cheap perfume on their clothes and silly grins on their faces. Perhaps the women liked it too. Since she’d never talked to any of them, she couldn’t form an opinion. She could only hope she was guessing right. Blue Belle was experienced. but she’d always been like a fussy aunt with Mary Rose and never discussed her professional business with her.
She sat down at her dressing table, picked up her brush, and spent a long while mindlessly working on her hair, for she hoped the ordinary chore could calm her down.
She finally decided she had procrastinated long enough. She put her brush down, tightened the belt on her robe, and went downstairs.
She was trembling from head to toes by the time she reached his doorstep. She didn’t know how long she stood there with her hand poised to turn the knob, but it had to have been at least five minutes before she could gather enough courage to go inside.
Harrison had left out a considerable number of details when he’d described to her how she’d looked and felt when he imagined she was in his bed. She had at least a hundred questions she wanted to ask, but she finally settled on just one he would have to answer before she let him touch her.
She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and opened the door.
When she made up her mind to do something, she did it with a vengeance. The door slammed against the inside wall, then bounced back and almost knocked her over. She shoved it out of her way again, though not quite as forcefully.
He hadn’t gotten out of bed to go and get her. He wanted her to make the decision on her own. He had checked his pocket watch, noted the time, and then happened to glance at it again a second or two before she tried to rip the door off its hinges.
As soon as he saw what she was wearing, he knew her brothers hadn’t told her about her father yet. If they had, she still would have come to him, but she would have kept her day clothes on. She would demand he answer her questions. She would look hurt, angry, and confused by his complicity. For a while, she was going to believe he’d deceived and betrayed her, and, honest to God, there wasn’t a thing he could do about the hurt she would have to endure. He had tremendous faith in her, however, and he knew she would eventually understand. It was his duty to protect her, and, whether she liked it or not, when she arrived in England, she was going to need him. He fully understood what was going to happen to her, for he knew the Elliott family well. With the best intentions, they would try to tear her identity away from her and make her into one of their own. Harrison couldn’t let that happen. He wanted Mary Rose to know in every way possible that he loved who she was, not what she was supposed to be.
And that was exactly why he had made his commitment to her now.
Mary Rose’s heart was pounding frantically, her knees were shaking, and she was desperately trying to remember how to breathe.
Staring at Harrison didn’t calm her down. He was sitting up in his bed, with his back propped against the bedpost and his long legs stretched out on top of the covers.
He wasn’t dressed for sleep. He was bare-chested and barefoot, but he still had his pants on, though only partially. The pants weren’t buttoned up. The dark, curly hair covering his chest narrowed down into the opening. The sight of him caused her heartbeat to quicken. She suddenly realized where she was looking and immediately turned her gaze away from his groin.
For the Roses Page 39
