Rose (18 page)

“Do you know what you’re saying?” Her voice sounded calm, but she felt as if she were about to explode.

“Of course I do. I’m asking you to marry me.”

What was wrong with her! George had just said the most precious words in the world to her, and she could only collapse into a chair with her mouth open. But this didn’t feel right. Now that some of his anger had subsided, George looked stiff. He sounded as if he were reciting words he had memorized. Even Salty looked stuffed, as though he were being held up by a bamboo pole down his pants.

She had to think. She took a deep breath, hoping to slow the furious beating of her heart.

“Sit down, George. You, too, Salty. Now tell me what this is all about. You can’t have changed your mind so fast.”

“But I have. I spent nearly the whole trip thinking about it.”

Rose’s mutinous heart thumped crazily in her chest. Her breath felt shallow, her eyesight dim, but she struggled to hold back her elation.

George
never
changed his mind.

“George, I’d love to believe that my entrancing smile or my delightful sense of humor, even my cooking or the way I wash your shirts, had caused you to come begging to marry me, but I know you. You don’t do anything without a reason.”

“I’ve told you. I realized I wanted to marry you.”

Rose felt the hope building inside. She didn’t know how long she could hold it down.

“Why is Salty here?”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you just wanted to tell me you realized you wanted to marry me, you wouldn’t have marched me in from the street like I was about to be put in handcuffs. And you wouldn’t have brought Salty with you.”

“It hit me all of a sudden. I guess not seeing you, knowing I might never see you again, made me see some things I’d never seen before.” George pulled up a chair, sat down directly in front of Rose, and took her hands into his. “I missed you already. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before today, but I didn’t. I want you to marry me. I’ve got it all arranged.”

That was another false note. George would never have arranged a wedding. Men never did. Rose felt her hope begin to fade. Whatever the explanation, she was certain it had nothing to do with love. She disengaged her hand from George’s grasp.

“Something happened. I know it did. You might as well tell me, because I’m not agreeing to anything until you do.”

“You might as well tell her,” Salty said.

George looked up at Salty, disgust written all over his face. “Remind me to be on hand when you propose.”

Salty looked abashed.

“I didn’t want to tell you because it really has nothing to do with this except that it made me so mad I decided to marry you. That’s when I realized I
wanted
to marry you. That I’d been wanting to all along without realizing it.”

“Tell me.” Rose felt her control start to go again. He had to get to the truth soon.

“Salty heard that Dottie wouldn’t give you your job and that no one would rent you a room.”

“That’s true,” Rose said.

“Well, it made me furious that anyone should say shameful things about you.”

“What things?”

“I don’t know,” George lied, “but they must have thought something or they’d have been happy to have you back. That’s when I got mad and decided to show them all by marrying you. Only I realized I wasn’t interested in showing anybody. I wanted to marry you.”

“Is that the truth?” Rose demanded, turning to Salty.

“As God is my witness,” Salty swore. He looked ready to swear to anything Rose wanted.

“Are you sure?” Rose asked, turning back to George. “Are you absolutely, positively sure?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you didn’t want to marry me.”

“I do,” Rose said, feeling the warmth of happiness rising in her heart, “but I never thought you’d ask me. For weeks I’ve been conditioning myself against the day you would leave and I’d never see you again.”

“Then let’s be glad I woke up in time.”

George kissed her. The kiss felt wrong. She knew it would.

“Now I imagine you have some shopping you’d like to do. I don’t know much about these things, but I always understood women had to have bride clothes.”

“Yes,” Rose said, thinking of the fabricated enthusiasm in George’s voice rather than the hours she could spend shopping.

“Here’s some money…”

“I have all I need.”

“Are you sure?”

“You paid me more than enough.”

“Okay. I have some things I need to do, like get the license. Don’t be gone too long.”

“I won’t,” Rose assured him.

After the door closed, Rose sank back into the chair. She didn’t kid herself. She wanted to believe that her dream had come true, that her knight had finally come to her rescue, that she would live happily ever after, but she knew better. George didn’t love her. He never used the word at all.

She couldn’t understand why she didn’t feel sick at heart. Her world had just come crashing down around her.

No, she had never had a world to crash down. George had never loved her. He had never pretended to. She had always known his interest was a mixture of gratitude, liking, lust, and protectiveness. Each fine in its way, but all falling far short of love.

She had lost nothing by agreeing to marry him.

Yes, she had. She had lost the fairy tale. She had lost the dream that he would sweep down and carry her off to a magical kingdom where everything was wonderful. She had always known that such a world didn’t exist, but she had hoped it might.

Now she knew it didn’t exist for her.

So she had a choice. She could marry a man who didn’t love her, or she could take her chances and stay in Austin. She thought of the money in her pocket. She could go to San Antonio or Brownsville. She was a good-looking woman. Surely she could attract the notice of some honest man, a man of principles she could learn to like and respect.

Like and respect! Had she drifted that far from her dreams? Was there no chance she would find someone she would
love?

Even if she found such a man, how would he feel when he learned her father had fought for the Union? And he would learn of it. Somebody would tell him.

She felt her heart grow heavy. She knew she’d never escape the Yankee epithet. If she went north, she was a Rebel. If she stayed in Texas, she was a Yankee. If she did find a man to marry her, he and his family would always look down on her. Maybe even her own children. She couldn’t stand that.

Wouldn’t it be better to marry George? He respected her. She loved him. Wasn’t that better than marrying someone she didn’t love?

It might be better not to marry at all.

But she wanted to marry George. She could feel her pulse beat a little faster at the thought.

She could accept George’s offer, or she could continue to struggle to escape the Yankee epithet and the townspeople’s persecution.

For a moment Rose felt like screaming with rage. Why should she be forced to choose between two kinds of hell? Why couldn’t she be given the chance to live her dream?

Rose made herself calm down. Screaming wouldn’t solve anything. Neither would complaining about her lot in life. She had a choice to make.

George had offered to marry her. She might never know what prompted him, but he had undoubtedly done it to protect her. If she were going to refuse him, she owed him the courtesy of doing it quickly, before it made him look ridiculous in the eyes of the town.

Just thinking about it made her feel like crying. He was always getting himself into trouble because of her. He had hired her to protect her. And now he had offered to marry her for the same reason. What could she do for him in return?

She could protect him.

Not just from the Reconstruction officials. She could protect him from his brothers. They would use him all his life if someone didn’t stop them. Especially Jeff.

And she could also protect him from himself.

That was a fair trade, wasn’t it? Pragmatic. Logical. Unemotional. Rational.

She stifled a sob of pain. She wanted to fling herself down, wail aloud that she wanted to be loved and cherished, to be the center of his universe, but it would be a waste of time.

He liked her. He admired her. He wanted her. That ought to be enough.

It had to be. It was all she had.

But even as she prepared to go out, even as she checked her face in the mirror to make sure her eyes showed no sign of crying, she realized she hadn’t given up hope that George would come to love her.

Her hope would never die. Regardless of the obstacles, regardless of how impossible it seemed, as long as she was alive, she would hope.

As long as she could be near George, there was a chance her dreams would come true.

The moment the door closed behind George, his expression of happiness changed to one of disgust.

He was sickened by what he’d just done.

He had known for years why he had to remain a bachelor. It wasn’t a decision taken lightly. Nothing had changed, yet he had asked Rose to marry him, even though he knew he was a disaster waiting to happen. And now it was waiting to happen to Rose, the one woman above all others he didn’t want to hurt.

How could he ask her to marry him, even to protect her? If he really cared for her, he would move heaven and earth to keep her from wasting her life on somebody like him.

As much as he needed her, as much as he enjoyed being with her, as much as he liked and admired her, as arresting as he found her beauty, as much as he desired her body, he didn’t love her. There was no excuse for what he’d just done, even to protect her. If he’d been as smart as he thought he was, he would have found another way.

Knowing how she felt about him, what he had just done went beyond thoughtlessness. It transcended all his doubts about himself, his family, and his career. He had asked her to share a life he had no intention of making. It didn’t matter that he’d done it without thinking, just like his father used to do. It didn’t matter that he’d done it for all the right reasons.

He had still done the wrong thing.

He should go back in there right now and confess everything, but he knew he wouldn’t. Even worse, he didn’t want to. The evil inside him wouldn’t let him. It would take advantage of his weakness and of her love to despoil her for its own pleasure.

He wanted her for himself. He couldn’t do without her. Call it weakness, call it deviltry, it didn’t matter. He had to have her.

He hated himself.

They still hurt. The hate-filled glances. The angry turnings away. Noses raised in the air. It seemed to have gotten worse since the news had flown around town that she was getting married.

Rose tried hard not to remember past slights and hurts. But it was impossible when the women made a point of letting her know that even though she was about to become a married woman she would not be welcomed into their midst.

The men didn’t seem so unbending. A couple winked at her, but most respected George enough to not want to anger him by insulting the woman he was about to marry. Especially not on his wedding day.

She had the unrewarding pleasure of knowing that even though she had finally risen in the men’s estimation, it was due to George’s credit rather than her own.

The injustice of it all angered her so much that she resolved to give the people of Austin a wedding they wouldn’t forget. Or at least a bride they wouldn’t forget. She would spend every penny in her pocket if necessary, the money she had saved to leave Austin and the money George paid her, but she would be the most spectacular bride possible.

Rose turned purposeful steps toward Dobie’s Emporium, the largest and most expensive purveyor of ladies’ clothing in Austin. Up until now she had never dared do more than stand at the window, looking at the articles of feminine apparel on display. Today she would have the pleasure of looking over their
entire stock. And she meant to inspect each piece before she decided how to spend her money. This might be the most important investment of her life. She wanted no mistakes.

Once inside, Rose found it hard to concentrate. Rows of merchandise seemed to stretch for miles. Everything from shoes, coats, dresses, and fine undergarments to items of decoration. Frivolous things like shiny stones, billowing feathers, and imitation flowers. Fantastic things like an artificial branch with a mother bluebird on the nest. Apparently this concoction was meant to be worn on a hat. Rose decided it would take a more imposing stature than hers to support such an arrangement.

For the better part of an hour she wandered up and down the aisles studying each garment, fingering the material to test its weight and the tightness of the weave, turning the garment inside out to inspect the craftsmanship of its construction, weighing the merits of the various articles which caught her eye, going over and over in her mind the number and cost of the items she needed for her purpose.

Rose enjoyed the delicious feeling of knowing she had fifty-four dollars to spend for anything she wanted. She was only barely aware of the stares or whispers of the other women in the store. To be able to shop for exactly what she wanted was a pleasure too intense to be spoiled by censorious or curious glances.

She was in a world of her own.

She would have loved to discuss her purchases with another woman, someone like Mrs. Dobie, the proprietress of the establishment, but she could tell from that lady’s pursed lips and crevassed forehead that Mrs. Dobie wasn’t happy with Rose’s success. She probably felt, as did most of the women in town, that women like Rose should be prevented from mixing with their betters.

After all, there was only one way for a woman like her to catch a respectable man like George Randolph. And what more could you expect? Any fool could have told you Rose was going
to do everything she could to get her claws into him while she had him to herself. Why not? The man had his own ranch, and gold he was willing to waste on this hussy.

At least, Rose thought, that’s what Mrs. Dobie’s expression seemed to say. Her compressed lips didn’t utter a single word.

Rose picked up a soft cotton chemise decorated with a bit of pink ribbon, two more just like it trimmed in blue and green, a pair of shiny black button-up shoes with two-inch heels, a new Sunday dress, a hat with a wide upstanding brim lined with gauze, and two nightgowns, the prettiest in the whole store. She also chose a pair of dainty white slippers, an ell of yellow ribbon, and two bunches of artificial flowers.