Rose_Bride of Colorado

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Rose_Bride of Colorado Page 12

by Margery Scott


  There was only one way to find out.

  Slamming his hat back on his head, he went outside and grabbed the duster from the rocking chair on the porch. Thunder cracked overhead, and lightning streaked the dark sky not far from the house.

  For a few moments, he stood on the porch, watching the wind and rain. The ground was slick, and he’d have to practically walk Pepper to the big house, but if he had to go searching for Rose, he couldn’t do it on foot.

  By the time he hammered on his parents’ door, his muscles ached, partly from fighting the wind and rain, and partly from tension. Through the anger and hurt, fear had taken hold as well. Even if she’d left him, if she was caught in the storm …

  He should have told her he loved her, but he’d been afraid to admit it, even to himself. He’d been so careful to keep himself closed off from love, to make sure he was never in a position where a woman controlled him.

  And now, he’d lost the only woman he’d ever really loved.

  Robert threw the door open. “What the devil—?”

  “Where’s Ma?” He pushed past Robert into the house.

  Ada appeared at the top of the stairs. Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Goodness gracious, Charlie. Whatever are you doing out in this storm?”

  “Did you see Rose today?” he asked as his mother came down the stairs to meet him.

  She smiled. “Yes, I did. We had a lovely time—”

  “She’s gone.”

  “What—?”

  “She left,” he repeated. “Did something happen?

  Ada shook her head. “That’s impossible. She was planning to make molasses cake for you this afternoon. Perhaps she went to visit someone …”

  “She didn’t go visiting, Ma. She took all her clothes, everything.”

  Ada’s hand splayed across her chest. “I can’t imagine why … she loves you, Charlie.”

  Pain slammed into him. “What?”

  “She loves you.”

  “Did she say that?”

  Ada shook her head and a soft smile lifted her lips. “She didn’t have to.”

  Robert rested a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, son. Maybe Eugenie knows where she went.”

  “Eugenie? How would she know?”

  “She was at your house earlier,” Robert said.

  “I didn’t see her,” Ada interrupted.

  Charlie rounded on his father. “What time did you see her there?”

  Robert’s forehead creased. “Can’t say exactly, but it was after noon. I was out in the north pasture and saw her leaving.”

  “You’re sure it was Eugenie?”

  Robert chuckled. “That buggy of hers is the only one like it in Cedar Valley.”

  That was true.

  Charlie spun around and opened the door. “I’m going to see what Eugenie did—”

  “Now, son ...” Robert grabbed Charlie’s arm, stopping him for a moment. “Don’t go off half-cocked and say something you might regret. You don’t know that Eugenie had anything to do with Rose running off.”

  Charlie met his father’s gaze. “I’d bet the ranch on it. That’s how sure I am.”

  A half hour later, Charlie rode through the gate of the Apsley ranch.

  Eugenie answered the door even before Charlie had dismounted and climbed the steps to the porch. “Why, Charlie, whatever are you doing out in this weather? Please, come inside.”

  The tone of her voice gave Charlie the impression she wasn’t surprised to see him.

  “No.” He didn’t want to go inside, didn’t want to have to make small talk with her parents. All he wanted was to know what she’d done to drive Rose away.

  “All right,” she said, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind her. She wrapped her arms around herself against the chill in the air. “Then why—?”

  “What did you do to Rose?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, as if she was trying to find the right words. “Charlie …” she said softly. She rested her hand on his forearm. Gazing up at him, her eyes wide, she gave him a sympathetic glance. “I didn’t do anything. Honestly.”

  “She’s gone, and I’d bet everything I own that it’s because of you.”

  “Why, Charlie, what a cruel thing to say.”

  “But it’s true, isn’t it?”

  “You may not see it right now, but she’s not the right woman for you. We were meant to be together. You and I. I had to make her see that—”

  Never in his life had Charlie wanted to hit a woman as he did at that moment. In case he lost control, he jammed his fists into his pockets. He took a step closer until their faces were only inches apart. A smile quirked her lips and she raised her head, parting her lips invitingly.

  Was she actually expecting him to kiss her? He lowered his head, but instead of a kiss, he forced the words out, slowly and carefully. “Eugenie, you and I will never be together. Ever.”

  “But now that Rose is gone …”

  “Never. Do you hear me? I want nothing to do with you, and I’ll be perfectly content if I never have to see your face or speak to you again.”

  Her smile faded, and her eyes glazed over. A tear slid down her cheek and for a moment, he was sorry. But the feeling passed instantly. All he cared about right now was finding Rose.

  The door opened, and Mr. Apsley appeared in the opening. “Evening, Charlie. What are you two doing standing outside?”

  “Ask your daughter,” he called out as he turned and stomped away.

  * * *

  The banging on the hotel room door startled Rose. She hadn’t been sleeping, but she wasn’t quite awake either. She glanced at the small clock on the table beside the bed. Almost midnight.

  Her heart lurched. Who would be knocking at her door at that time of night?

  “Rose? Open the door.”

  Charlie’s voice boomed through the closed door.

  She should pretend to be asleep and hope he’d go away. She’d half expected him to come after her, but she’d hoped she’d be long gone before he did.

  She couldn’t face him, couldn’t bear to leave him if she saw him again. She knew that.

  “Rose! Let me in before I break the door down.”

  Heavens, he was going to wake the entire hotel if he kept up the noise. And she didn’t doubt for a minute that he would carry out his threat.

  Throwing the eiderdown back, she stumbled to her feet and opened the door.

  Raindrops clung to his chin and hair, and dripped off his duster to puddle on the floor.

  He pushed his way inside and slammed the door shut behind him.

  A voice from another room shouted out an obscenity as Charlie took off his hat and tossed it on the dresser.

  Rose shrank back from the intense expression on his face. “How did you find me?”

  His gaze pierced her, his glower deepening. “It wasn’t hard to figure out once I calmed down enough to think,” he began. “There’s only one hotel in town, and one stage leaving tomorrow.”

  She should have realized he wouldn’t have any problem finding out her whereabouts. She’d only hoped she’d be gone before he did.

  Crossing to stand within a few inches, he looked down at her, the question in his dark eyes penetrating her soul. “Why, Rose?”

  “It’s for the best. So …” Her voice cracked, her throat tightening against the grief welling up inside. “Please go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on. I thought you were happy. We were happy.”

  A sob tore at her throat and tears spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. “We were, but …”

  “But what?”

  She should have told the truth in the beginning, before she fell in love with him. But she’d truly believed she could spend her life with Charlie without ever revealing the shame she felt and her fear he’d turn her away if he knew her father’s crimes.

  “Tell me, Rose. Right now.”

 
She slumped to the side of the bed, burying her face in her hands. Charlie came to sit beside her, drawing her hands away and cupping her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me.”

  “I can’t bring shame upon your family. I won’t.”

  “What are you talking about? What shame?”

  “I wasn’t exactly honest about why I left Massachusetts,” she began, her voice barely audible. “It was partly true. I did work in the garment factory, and Emma, and Gillian and Willow are closer to me than family, but there was more.”

  “I figured that,” he put in. “There had to be a reason you left your farm besides the urge to work long days in a crowded city and live in an apartment. I kept hoping you’d tell me, but you didn’t.”

  “I was ashamed.”

  “Of what?”

  “The truth is, my father is a thief. He’s in prison for stealing fifty thousand dollars.”

  Charlie’s face revealed the shock she expected. He released her from his grip and shifted his position so that they were no longer touching.

  A chill washed over Rose that had more to do with the emptiness she felt inside at Charlie’s obvious rejection than the temperature in the room.

  She wasn’t surprised. His reaction was exactly what she expected.

  “Stole from who?” he asked.

  “He was president of a bank in Princeton,” she said. “We lived well, and I never had a moment of suspicion that the income that provided my mother and I with a privileged existence was at the expense of other people. He embezzled the money from the customers’ accounts. He also supposedly invested money for several large businesses in town when, in fact, he used that money for his own pleasure. “I’m so sorry …”

  “Did you steal the money?” he asked, his eyes piercing her.

  “Well … no …”

  “Then you have nothing to be sorry about. This was his crime, not yours.”

  “But you know what they say about the apple not falling far from the tree. People will think—”

  “You can’t live life worrying about what people think,” he told her, then let out a short laugh. “If I’d worried about what people thought, I wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t have gotten into a fight that night, and my father wouldn’t have given me an ultimatum that led me to you.”

  Rose’s lips quirked in a weak smile. It was strange how one small act could change a person’s life forever.

  Charlie’s voice filtered into her thoughts. “How did he get caught?”

  “I really don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t spoken to him since the night the constables arrived at our door and took him away. Of course the scandal was front page news. Our friends and neighbors turned their backs on us immediately. We lost everything. My mother suffered a stroke shortly after, and is being cared for in a convalescent home outside Boston.”

  Charlie gathered her into his arms and held her tight. The rain clinging to Charlie’s duster mingled with her tears and soaked through her nightgown, but she didn’t care.

  This was the last time she’d feel his arms around her, and she’d have only this and her other memories to last her a lifetime.

  When her sobs eased, he pushed her away and gripped her shoulders. “Why did you lie?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t want to, but the shame I felt … I was afraid you’d send me away …”

  He released her then and ran his hands through his hair. Standing up, he began to pace the room. Then he stopped and looked down at her. “Seems lately I haven’t been the man I thought I was.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  For the next few minutes, he explained where he’d been that day and how he’d learned so much about himself. And how he wanted to change. “I hate that you lied, and I know Eugenie did or said something to you to make you run away—”

  “She has a newspaper clipping. She’s going to show it to your parents, to everyone in town. I hoped that if I left, she’d reconsider. I couldn’t bring that kind of scandal to your family …” She frowned when Charlie suddenly laughed. “Is that so funny?”

  “Only because you think that’s the worst my family has ever lived through,” he said with a smile. “My family settled here more than a hundred years ago. Scandals, feuds, bastard children … my family has been through it all … and has come out stronger. And they’ll get through this, too.”

  “But—”

  “People might talk, but soon, they’ll find something else more interesting.”

  She nodded. “I hope you’re right. Your family has been so kind …”

  “They’ll understand.” Hooking a finger under her chin, he lifted her face to his and kissed her lightly on the lips. “There’s no reason to ever be afraid to tell me anything. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  Turning her to face him completely, he took her hands in his. “Do you remember the day we got married and I said I wanted complete honesty in our marriage?”

  “Yes,” she replied hesitatingly.

  “Then now’s the time for me to be honest,” he began. “You k now I married you because of the ultimatum my father gave me …”

  Rose’s heart sank. She remembered all too well.

  “But I’ve discovered that I’ve fallen in love with you. I don’t care about my inheritance, or the ranch, or anything else if you’re not there to share it with me.”

  Rose couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Oh …”

  “I told you I never wanted to be married, and that was the truth. I was afraid to let a woman have enough power over me that she could hurt me. But somehow, it happened anyway. You have all the power now. I love you more than anything else in the world.”

  “And you have power over me,” she whispered softly. “I love you, too.”

  Charlie pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “Are you ready to come home then?” he asked after he dragged his lips away from hers.

  “No.”

  “No?” Charlie’s voice held a tone of disbelief. “What do you mean no? What else is wrong?”

  She giggled then. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything is perfect.”

  “It is?”

  “We have the room for the night,” she pointed out. “We began our marriage in this room. This is a new beginning for us, and I think we should start it in this room as well.”

  A glint appeared in Charlie’s eyes as he rose and shrugged out of the slicker, letting it fall in a heap to the floor. “I think that’s a perfect idea.”

  Epilogue

  Rose and Charlie strolled down the boardwalk on the way to the mercantile. Autumn was approaching, and the leaves on the trees were brilliant shades of red, orange and yellow. Winter would be upon them soon, and Rose had plans to sew a few new winter shirts for Charlie. She also held three letters in her hand to mail to her friends.

  Suddenly, she stopped, drawing Charlie to a stop beside her. Eugenie was standing in front of the Wells, Fargo office, several trunks at her feet. She hadn’t seen Eugenie since their confrontation, but she’d heard Eugenie was leaving town, heading to San Francisco to live with an aunt there.

  In a way, Rose sympathized with her. She knew better than most how difficult it was to leave everyone and everything you’d ever known and start a new life among strangers.

  She hoped Eugenie would make friends like Emma, Willow and Gillian, and that one day, she’d find happiness. Like she had.

  Tucking her hand into Charlie’s elbow, she smiled up at him.

  Everything that had happened had led her to this point – the scandal, the factory, her friends – and now, finally, she was going to spend her life with the man she loved. And if her calculations were correct, there would be a child in a few months to make their family complete.

  Her heart soared with joy. She’d come a long way, both in distance and in her own acceptance of what had happened, but she’d made it.

  She was where she belonged.

  Home.

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  I hope you enjoyed reading Rose: Bride of Colorado. If you’d like to read about Rose’s dear friends, Willow, Emma an Gillian, you can find their stories and all the other books in this 45 author, 50 book series by clicking the link below:

  AMERICAN MAIL-ORDER BRIDES SERIES

  Sign up for my newsletter here to find out about new releases, get early reader discounts, special promos, exclusive content for newsletter subscribers only, and much more.

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  Books by Margery Scott

  Historical romances

  Emma’s Wish

  Wild Wyoming Wind

  The Texan’s Promise (short story)

  The Morgans of Rocky Ridge:

  Cade (novella)

  Trey (novella)

  Zane (novella)

  Jesse (novella)

  Will (novella)

  Brett (novella)

  Heath (novella)

  A Rocky Ridge Christmas (short story)

  Christmas Caring (short story charity anthology)

  Medical romances

  The Surgeon’s Homecoming

  Stranded with the Surgeon

  The Firefighter and the Lady Doc

  Romantic suspense

  The Next Victim

  Out of Time

  Devil's Harvest

  Her Rocky Mountain Guardian

  Contemporary romances

  Winterlude

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  About the author:

  Margery is the author of more than twenty romance novels, novellas and short stories. She lives on a lake in Canada with her husband, and spends as much time as possible travelling in search of the perfect setting for her next book. When she’s not writing, you can usually find her wielding a pair of knitting needles or a pool cue. She loves to hear from readers.

  Website: www.margeryscott.com

 

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