Rose

by Jill Marie Landis

  She fed more wood into the stove and then took her last bottle of cabernet off of the shelf. Along with matches, an empty glass, and a candle, Rosa carried the wine into the darkened dining room and sat down alone at one of the tables. Earlier she had pulled the café curtains closed, hoping to discourage any last-minute visitors or customers who were not aware that the place was closed.

  As Rosa lit the candle and poured herself a glass of wine, she paused to look around and think that this really was the perfect way to end her time in Busted Heel, for this was where it had all started. This was the place Giovanni had chosen to make their home. It was here, in the café, that she had begun her new life of independence. And here, she remembered, Kase Storm had walked in unexpectedly and kissed her for the first time.

  Kase. She allowed herself to think of him for one moment, long enough to wonder how he fared in Boston, whether he was happy—or if he would ever be happy again.

  The pins slipped easily from her hair, and she shook it free until it rippled down around her back. Rosa sighed and took a sip of wine, then stared into the candle’s steady flame, thinking of how tomorrow she would board the train and head farther west, farther from Crotte than she ever imagined possible. Guido would be furious when he received her letter that announced her move to San Francisco. She had yet to receive any letters from home and wondered if she was out of their thoughts as well as their lives.

  After another sip of wine she began counting the time since she arrived in Busted Heel. Only seven short months, yet they seemed to hold a lifetime of learning.

  Halting footsteps scraped against the wooden sidewalk outside, and Rosa paused in her introspection to wonder if another stumbling drunk from Paddie’s had lost his way. Her gaze flickered to the doorknob. Even though she tried to remember, she still had the bad habit of forgetting to lock both doors. Tonight she was certain that she had secured the front and back entries. Almost certain.

  The shuffling stopped. She waited—listened—held her breath. Then, when there was no further sound from outside, she breathed a slow sigh of relief.

  When something bumped against the door, she started and held her breath. Beyond the glow of the single candle, the room was swathed in darkness. Rosa stared hard at the place where she knew the doorknob to be, but could not see it. Slowly, silently, she stood, intent on moving across the room to bar the door.

  She tried to call out, to tell whoever was on the other side that the place was closed, but the words stuck in her throat. All that came out was a croaking “Is closed.”

  Memories came flooding back. There was the reminder to lock the door Kase had issued so effectively the first night she had stayed alone here. Then, all too vividly, she recalled the day Bert Dawson had tried to assault her in this very room. Rosa found her mouth gone suddenly dry as her heart began to pound. She took two more steps toward the door.

  It swung open before she could reach it and she stopped, arrested by the sight of the tall, dark shape of a man silhouetted against the star-spattered sky behind him. The man’s height was exaggerated by the tall-crowned hat he wore. Whoever it was stood head and shoulders taller than any of the men she knew in Busted Heel. It was not the diminutive Paddie or the lanky Slick. As he stepped closer, the candlelight further defined his shape, and that of the bundle he held in his arms. Whatever he carried he held dear, for he cradled the bulky object as a mother would a babe.

  Was her mind playing tricks on her? Had she wanted to see Kase Storm again so badly that she was ready to claim that this apparition in her doorway might be him? She licked her lips and hoped that she could find her voice. “What do you want?” The words came out in a hush that was barely a whisper.

  “I want to know if you’ll still have me.”

  There was no denying the deep, resonant timbre of Kase Storm’s voice. He took a slow, steady step forward and then halted again.

  Rosa could not move, nor could she speak. Her legs were trembling so fiercely she thought she might collapse. She reached out and braced herself with one hand on the back of a nearby chair.

  “Rose?”

  She stared, speechless. Then she crossed herself. She offered up a swift, silent prayer to San Genesio and swore that if he removed this apparition, she would never sin again.

  He took two more steps forward.

  Frigid air swept in through the open door and set the tablecloths fluttering. It guttered the candle flame, engulfing them in darkness.

  Shuffling sounds told her that he had stepped closer. One, two, three more steps. She could hear his soft, steady breathing, then heard him move again.

  A chair scraped somewhere nearby and then clattered to the floor with a loud bang.

  “Damn!” he cursed softly.

  His frustrated curse jolted Rosa out of her shock. She extended her arms and felt the air, stepping carefully in his direction.

  “Do not move,” she said, at last able to think, to act.

  “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “The last thing I intend to do is fall.”

  The heavy wool of his coat was the first thing she grasped as she reached out for him in the darkness. It was only natural then to clutch his upper sleeves and hold on. The bundle in his arms prevented her from stepping any closer. She made certain he was steady on his feet, hoped she was steady on hers, and then breathed a sigh of relief.

  “This isn’t exactly the way I planned this scene,” he said.

  Even in the darkness, Rosa could hear the old familiar smile in his voice. It was a tone he had not used since the shooting. She swallowed and waited for him to explain.

  “I wanted you to be able to witness the big surprise, but here we are in the dark. I guess that’s not all that bad either.” She felt him shrug.

  “You are not in Boston.” Her hands tightened on his sleeves.

  “No. I’m not in Boston,” he said softly. “I’m standing in the middle of a restaurant, in the dark, hoping I’m not about to break my damn-fool neck. Do you think you could let go long enough to light the candle?” he teased.

  “Do you think you will not break any more of the furniture?” she countered.

  “I’ll try not to.”

  She let go and felt her way around him and closed the door. Then Rosa worked her way back to the table where she had left the candle. Her hands were shaking so hard it took her three tries to light a match, but finally the candle flared to life. She whirled around and found that he had not been a dream, nor was he an apparition. Kase Storm was standing in the middle of her café holding in his arms something wrapped in what appeared to be a linen dish towel. Rosa ignored the curious object and drank in the sight of him standing on his own feet.

  Her hair swirled about her as she shook her head in disbelief. “How?”

  He reached out and ran his fingers through the glossy fall of ebony. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Rosa reached out, her fingers hungry for the feel of him, and touched his cheek. “You are beautiful, too,” she said.

  They did not move. Rosa was afraid that he might disappear, Kase refused to rush the moment, and so they stood in silence, each engrossed with the other. He continued to stroke her hair. Rosa reached up and brushed the wayward lock of hair back off his brow and watched it fall back out of place. She fought to still her beating heart, fought to keep her emotions in check until she learned what he wanted, why he had come, and how he had regained his health.

  Someone rode a horse down Main Street and the distraction broke the spell that surrounded them. Kase looked around the room. “May I sit down?”

  Rosa pressed her palms against her flaming cheeks. “Testa quadra.” Blockhead. She whispered the curse under her breath. She had forgotten that he might be in pain. Quickly she pulled out a chair and held it while he set his bundle on the table and then slowly sat down.

  Hastily she moved the candle to his table and then pulled out a chair for herself.

  “Sit by me,” he said softly.

  She compli
ed and pulled her chair up directly beside him. “Talk,” she said.

  He took off his hat and gloves and ran a hand through his hair. Even in the candlelight she could see his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

  “First, Rose, I have to apologize. And I have to tell you that if you cannot forgive me for the way I treated you that I will understand.” He took her cold hands and held them between his warm ones. “I’m so sorry, Rose. Truly, truly sorry.”

  She bit her trembling lips together and swallowed a sob. All she could manage was a nod.

  “After you left my room on Christmas Eve, I proceeded to drink myself into oblivion. But the problem was that there wasn’t enough liquor in Wyoming to make me forget what I’d done to you. Or to myself. When Zach told me you were leaving Busted Heel for good, something snapped inside me.” He shrugged and squeezed her hands. “When I woke up from my stupor—with the worst hangover I’ve ever had, by the way—I was determined not to let you leave me.”

  “But you did not send for me again. It has been over a month.”

  “I put a condition on it. Since everyone but me was convinced there was no real reason why I couldn’t walk, I told myself I was going to walk again, or crawl on my hands and knees and beg you to forgive me, if that’s what it took to have you back. I sent my mother and Caleb home without me, made them promise not to tell you that I had changed my mind about leaving and that I was determined to get back on my feet. When I was finally regaining some feeling in my legs, Zach moved out to Mountain Shadows so he could help me daily.”

  “And so you walked again.”

  “It wasn’t all that simple. I had to spend a lot of time convincing myself there was nothing stopping me. Then I had Quentin and Zach half drag me around until I began to retrain myself to move. As time went on, whatever the problem was seemed to leave me.”

  Although he claimed it was not, it almost sounded too simple. She was still shaking, clinging to his hands, but she needed to have him answer one question more. “Will it come again?”

  “My paralysis? My parents contacted a doctor in Boston who tried to explain it to them and then they wrote to tell me all he had said. I guess after I was wounded, somewhere in the back of my mind I was convinced I couldn’t walk, and so I stayed paralyzed. As I fought to regain movement, it became easier and easier, until now the symptoms are gone. Now all I have to do is regain my strength.”

  Even more puzzled by his explanation, she frowned.

  Kase smiled. “In a word, no. It won’t come again.”

  “Zach helped you?”

  He nodded. “That’s why he hasn’t been to town. I was afraid he’d let it slip somehow. I didn’t want you to find out about this, in case I failed. He’s been so damn smug about it all. I knew if he had the chance to place any bets about us getting back together, he’d be doing it. He drove me into town tonight.”

  “But I have a ticket.” She glanced around the room, her eyes wide, uncertain. “I have sold the caffè to Signor Quentin. I—”

  “Do you still love me, Rose? Can you still love me after everything I’ve put you through?”

  How could I not? she wondered, but she asked him, “Why did you not come before this? Why did you make me wait until the last day? Tomorrow I am to leave.”

  “We were snowed in up at Mountain Shadows for nearly a week. I thought I was going to lose my mind before it cleared up enough for us to get into town. Zach tried to reassure me he’d drive me clear to San Francisco if he had to, but it didn’t do much for my temper.”

  Rosa smiled. It wasn’t hard for her to imagine the two of them arguing.

  He leaned close, staring at her intently as his fingers began to rub the vulnerable spot on the inside of her wrist. “Will you have me back?”

  For a fleeting second she wanted the satisfaction of saying no. No, because he had caused her such unrelieved pain; no, because she had nearly left behind all she had built. But as she stared into his eyes—-eyes shining with love that he could not deny any more than she could deny her love for him—Rosa knew what her answer would be. It was the only answer she could give.

  “I love you still,” she whispered. “I will always love you, Kase Storm.”

  He reached toward her, and she flew out of her chair and into his arms. Bundled against him, she pressed as close as the bulk of his heavy coat would allow and wound her arms about his neck.

  “God, I’ve missed you, Rose,” he breathed against her lips. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  His mouth came down on hers and he pressed her back as his lips and tongue made demands on her that she happily met and returned. His breath was warm, his skin still slightly chilled from the outdoors. An indefinable scent lingered on the air about him. Rosa pressed closer, eager to be as near him as possible. The kiss deepened until, breathless and panting, she pulled back.

  “I think that before the night is over I will know how much you have missed me,” she said.

  He squeezed her tight. “You had better believe it.” Then he straightened as he suddenly remembered the bundle on the table. “I almost forgot. I brought you a gift.”

  “Yes?”

  “Yes. Close your eyes.”

  She did as he asked and felt him shift in the chair as he reached across her. Something brushed against her cheek and she suddenly caught an all too familiar scent drifting on the air.

  She opened her eyes. The dish towel was gone, but in its place was a bouquet of deep red roses.

  “For you,” he said with as much of a bow as he could manage with her on his lap.

  Gathering the roses in her arms, she dipped her head and drank in the scent of them. She realized their subtle fragrance had teased her since the moment he walked in the door.

  “I’m afraid hothouse roses aren’t as fragrant as the others.”

  “Roses in the month of January are miracoloso,” she informed him, crushing the flowers between them as she leaned forward to kiss him again.

  Kase stiffened when they heard a slight rattle against the front window. “Shh,” he whispered. “Did you hear that?”

  “Sì. What is—”

  He put his hand across her lips.

  This time he whispered against her ear. “Don’t say anything.”

  Eyes wide, she nodded in understanding and he pulled his hand away.

  Kase leaned close again. “I have a feeling it’s either Zach or Flossie—or both of them—trying to see in.”

  Rosa tried to stifle a giggle.

  He continued in a low voice. “Before I came over here we stopped at the hospitality parlor to surprise Floss and let her know I’d be staying in my old room tonight. Zach was taking bets from everybody as to whether or not you’d have me back.”

  She let go of him and slid off his lap, then tiptoed to the table where she had left her glass. She drank the last drops of wine and men smiled mischievously.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered.

  She held a finger to her lips silencing him before she winked and then drew back her arm and threw the wineglass at the side wall. “Basta! ” she shouted. Rosa returned to his side and whispered, “They must not think that you are having the good luck yet. This will make the betting higher.”

  Footsteps faded on the walk outside as Kase stood to take her into his arms.

  “And now?” she asked.

  “Now I guess we had better decide what we’re going to do next.”

  “I have, as you say in America, a very good idea.”

  “I have a feeling we both have the same idea.”

  “Sì.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “Now?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Rosa shrugged. “Tomorrow I was going to California—”

  He squeezed her and glowered with feigned anger.

  She shrugged. “But I think maybe tomorrow I marry.”

  “As long as it’s me you’re marrying,” he warned.

  “But of course.” She smiled.
<
br />   “About tonight ...” He was not sure how to approach the subject of accommodations for the night. Kase held Rose close, tantalized by the fresh honeyed scent of her, and knew that leaving her for even a few hours would be hell after all the time they had been apart. He was determined, though, after all she had been through, to let her set the terms.

  “Tonight I will sleep in your arms.”

  “You know, it’s kind of strange, but suddenly I’m pretty tired.” A slow, provocative half-smile teased his lips. “What do you say we go over to my room? Flossie said she’d leave the outside door to the second floor unlocked, and with all this snow the town’s deserted.”

  “Suddenly I, too, am very tired. You will wait and I will get my coat.”

  “I’ll wait,” Kase said as he watched her cradle the flowers against her breast and savor the scent of them once more before she laid them on the table and left to collect her wrap.

  A sound in the doorway between the two rooms caused him to look up. Rosa stood staring at him, her golden brown eyes shining in the candlelight, her expression radiant and alive with love and promise as she tied her scarf about her head and donned her jaunty Stetson. When she gathered up the roses and then placed her hand in his, Kase felt his heart swell with pride and happiness. He thought of his mother and Caleb and the years of happiness they had shared and knew that he and his Rose would know the same happiness. As he gazed down on her he could not resist teasing her once more. He reached out and toyed with one of the rose petals.

  “Was my proposal romantic enough for you?”

  Rosa arched a brow as she tried to look speculative. “If you were Italian I would say it was not so good ...”

  He put his hands on his hips and tried to look offended.