Authors: Linda George
“
I think I'd like that fine.”
When Tom stopped the buggy in front of Merchant's Restaurant, across from the El Paso,
Josh stood waiting to take the horse's reins.
“
I'll let you know when we're ready,” Tom told him.
“
Yes, Sir. Just holler for Josh and I'll have the buggy here in two shakes of a coon's tail.”
Rosalie smiled, amused at his exuberance.
“Thank you, Josh.”
“
Yes, Ma'am. You shore are purty.” His teeth shone along with his brown eyes.
“
Why thank you, kind sir.”
Josh
beamed, tipping his cap to her before leading the horse and buggy away.
Tom's lips pressed together as he tried to
suppress a smile, but it broke through anyway.
“
Is something funny?”
He shook his head, held his arm for her again and escorted her inside.
Pleased by the attention she drew when they crossed to a table and sat down, Rosalie accepted a menu, glanced at the men still watching her around the room, then tried to concentrate on what to order. In the saloons and dance halls, most of the cowboys couldn't read, so they ordered beans and ham after staring at the menu on the wall in pretense. Rosalie had cooked washtubs full of beans and hundreds of pounds of fat ham while working at the dance hall. Tonight, she wanted nothing remotely similar to beans or ham.
Tom perused the menu, then told the waiter,
“I'll have the beefsteak, rare, with boiled potatoes.”
“
Same for me. Except, cook it until it doesn't bawl when I cut into it, please. Pink in the center will be just fine.” She spread the napkin over her lap.
Tom grinned, handing the menus back to the waiter.
Never in her life had Rosalie dined with an honest-to-goodness gentleman.
But she'd read books and stories in the newspapers about rich people and their exquisite suppers in fine mansions. Far from being a fine mansion, Merchants' was a king’s palace compared to The Rose.
It wouldn't hurt to practice polite conversation.
“Tell me about your home in Denver, Mr. McCabe.”
“
Tom, remember?”
“
Tom.” She smiled and sipped some water, hoping he wouldn't see how nervous she was.
“We live on our ranch outside of Denver about four miles. We generally run a couple of thousand head, but we've had a spell of bad luck with tick fever. Lost both of our bulls and most of our cows. Don't have more than a couple of hundred head left.”
“
How awful. I'm so sorry.”
“
Without a bull, there'll be no calves in the spring. But we'll be buying a new one soon. My father will be sending my brother, Will, to Lubbock to fetch him as soon as I get home.”
“
You have one brother?”
“
Two. Bo's the youngest. There are four of us, counting my sister, Katrina.”
“
Whom we're going to see?”
“
Yes.”
“
Your father is a Senator, I understand.”
“
Yes, Ma'am.”
“
And your mother?”
“
She died when Trina was born.”
“
I'm sorry.”
“
We've done all right.”
“
I can see that.”
“
Your turn.”
“
Excuse me?” She stalled, wanting to change the subject if possible. She didn't want to lie about her upbringing. He'd see through her. Neither did she want to tell the truth. In her mind, she began arranging facts so they wouldn't embarrass her once spoken aloud.
“
Your turn to tell me about yourself. If you want to, of course. I don't mean to pry.”
“
Well, my mother died when I was twelve. I still miss her terribly.”
“
She must have been a handsome woman.”
Not knowing how to reply, she smiled.
“Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“
Two sisters. One of them died at birth. We called her Penelope, because that was the name Mama had chosen for a girl.”
“
And your other sister?”
“
She doesn't live at home anymore.” Would he press her for more details? Thankfully, the waiter arrived with their steaks and Tom didn't pursue it further.
The beefsteak, though tough, tasted heavenly.
How long had it been since she'd eaten beefsteak, much less one this size? And the potatoes were cooked perfectly, not too hard, yet not mushy and falling apart. Butter dripped over them, reminding her to dab at her lips with the napkin.
“
This is delicious. I had no idea I was so hungry. It's been a long time since I've had steak. That is, steak this good.” She dabbed at her lips again.
“
We eat beef a lot at home. It comes with living on a ranch.”
They ate in silence for a while.
Their lull in conversation didn't feel uncomfortable in the least.
Tom forked the last bite of steak into his mouth, mashed the napkin against his lips, then pushed back from the table.
“I get tired of it sometimes and crave chicken or pork. My father figures if we raise cattle, we ought to eat beef. Trina used to fry chickens now and then. Or, she'd make chicken and dumplings. I always looked forward to chicken night.”
“
We've never had cattle. Lord knows I've seen many of them, though. When the herds come into Ft. Worth, we almost choke on their dust. It takes hours for them to get settled in the stockyards.”
“
Do you have any other livestock?”
“
My father owns five horses. One of them is really fast. They're fine stock. He's been offered a lot of money for the horse he races, but he would never part with any of them. I used to feed and groom them.” She stabbed a bite of steak with extra emphasis, remembering how her father had placed higher value on those horses than on his own daughter. This bite of steak seemed tougher than the rest.
“
But you don't anymore.”
She smiled reluctantly.
“Not anymore.” She pushed her plate back. “I can't eat another bite. Would you care to finish my steak? It would be a pity to waste it.”
“
No, thanks. I'm full to bustin'.”
“
Perhaps Josh would not be offended if we gave it to him to finish.”
“
Great idea!” He pulled out his pocket watch, flipped the lid open and stared at the face for a second before pocketing the watch. “It's still early. Would you care to go for a walk?”
“
That would be lovely.”
Tom paid the waiter
and asked him to wrap the leftover steak in some brown paper, which he did. Tom pushed the bundle into his pocket, then offered his arm to escort Rosalie outside.
He knew he ought to take her back, since they'd finished eating, but he couldn't stomach returning to the Acre so soon after supper.
He was tempted to rent a room for her at the hotel and send for her things later, or maybe he’d send Josh to fetch them. But with buying that new bull, and Paw's having to borrow the money to do it, Tom had no extra money to spend on this trip. In a few more days, they'd leave for Denver. Not a day too soon for Tom, and, he suspected, for Rosalie, as well.
Their walk was pleasant, in spite of lingering heat from the day.
Tom pulled at his collar when sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Others out for an evening walk tugged the same way, proving Tom wasn't the only one sweating tonight.
“
Is it always so blasted hot in Texas in the summer?”
“
Always. Actually, this isn't as hot as usual. Only a hundred degrees today. In the shade.”
“
A hundred in the shade? And you expect it to get hotter?”
“
Quite a bit. August is always our hottest month. Before long, it'll reach a hundred and five, or more.”
“
All the more reason to get to Denver as soon as possible.”
“
Is it cooler there?”
“
Seldom gets over eighty, and not so much of this blasted dust.” He swiped at his brow with one sleeve. They walked in silence a few steps. “I noticed your paw calls you Rosie.”
Her cheeks pinked.
“I've asked him not to, but he persists. My mother's name was Rose Elizabeth. He called her Rose. I've always felt Rosie made me sound like…” She fussed with her sleeve.”
“
Like one of the dance hall girls?”
She nodded.
Her cheeks flamed.
“
Believe me, no one would ever mistake you for a soiled dove.” He ducked his head, avoided her eyes.
“
What is it? I can tell you were about to say something else.”
“
Well, I apologized to you earlier in my mind, but I guess I'll do it again. When I saw your house in the Acre, I first suspected—” He took a deep breath. “That is, I didn't know for sure if you might not be—”
“
I understand. It's perfectly all right. It's the very reason I've pestered my father for years to move to the northern part of Fort Worth. I can't stand being mistaken for...one of those unfortunate women.” Rosalie smiled. “As he told you, my father hates the word, 'proper.' He's heard it from me too often, I'm afraid.”
“
I'll say it again. There's no chance of mistaking you for anything but a proper lady.” They stopped walking for a moment. The evening breeze was still uncomfortably warm. “I'll admit I wasn't wild about coming to escort you to Denver. But my father asked me to do it, and whatever he asks of me, I do.”
“
That speaks well of you.”
“
I've changed my feelings now, though.”
“
Oh? How is that?” She took a deep, trembling breath, knowing what she wanted him to say.
He started to touch her arm, then hung both thumbs in his pockets instead.
“I'll do whatever I can to get you out of the Acre and into Denver, where you can be a lady and live without having to explain who you are, or aren't.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she whispered.
They walked a few steps further.
“Tell me about your sister. I'm looking forward to meeting her.”
Tom laughed out loud.
“Trina McCabe Hart. How can I describe her to you? Maybe it's best I don't. I'll wait and let you form your own opinion, then you can tell me what you think.”
“
Fair enough,” she said quietly. “Thank you again for letting me go with you. It's been so long since I've visited someone...that is, someone nice.”
“
I know what you mean. You'll like her, I promise. And she'll like you, too.”
“
I hope so. I really should be getting back. I promised I'd tend to Mary.”
“
Sure.” They started back toward the restaurant.
Tom helped her into the buggy and thought, for a minute,
that he felt her tremble when he touched her arm. The sensation went all through him. Felt damn good, too.
When
they neared The Yellow Rose, Sadie came running toward them, breathing hard, her face streaked with dirt.
“
Rosie, you have to come right now. She's bleedin' bad.”
Rosalie's stomach knotted with the fear Mary might die because she hadn't been there.
She'd only been gone an hour and a half, though, and this was Mary's first baby. First babies rarely came in less than a full day. “How far apart are her contractions?”
“
Almost constant now. Worse labor I've ever seen.”
“
Try not to worry. I'll know what's happening as soon as I've had a chance to examine her.”
Rosalie and Sadie hurried inside while Tom tied the horse.
He didn't feel comfortable going inside, but they might need him for something. What, he had no idea.
He felt his way down a dark, stinking hallway, heard screams coming from the room at the far end and stopped just outside the door.
The screams ceased abruptly. In a minute, the door opened and Rosalie came out, her face pale and wet with tears.
“
What happened?”
“
From the looks of it, the baby was dead inside her for at least a week. Poisoned her whole system. She bled to death.” She pushed past him, rushed down the hall and outside. He heard her retching. The sound of weeping women came from the death room.
Outside, Tom handed Rosalie his handkerchief to wipe her mouth, then gathered her into his arms to cry.
“If I'd been here earlier, then maybe I could have done something to help her.”
“
Sounds like something even a doctor couldn't fix. You shouldn't blame yourself.”
“
Of course I should. Instead of coming here, to be with her, I chose to go to supper with you. I should've been here, even if there was nothing I could do. These women depend on me.”
Rosalie dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief and tried to stop crying.
She'd been through this so many times, it shouldn't bother her as much as it did. But, inflicting her grief on Tom McCabe was unforgivable.
“
Rosalie, sometimes things happen whether you're there or not. Her death isn't your fault.”
“
You're right, of course. There's no one to blame. It's just how things are when you live in hell.”