Valentine's Rose (8 page)

Read Valentine's Rose Online

Authors: E. E. Burke

Tags: #Western historical romance, #mail-order brides, #English lord, #sweet romance, #Irish heroine

Hardt glanced up with a look of mild surprise. “No, I asked them to meet us here so we could settle this. If I assigned the land to you without establishing ownership in front of a reliable witness, there would be trouble. I don’t like lynch mobs.”

Val’s stomach pitched. He’d seen the results of vigilante justice dangling from the thick branch of a tree. Hardt was right. Jarvis, being one of the locals, could try to rouse sympathy in his quest for revenge. O’Shea apparently had popularity and trust, and he’d be telling a different story in his saloon, where so many men gathered and gossiped. Jarvis would be pegged as a sore loser and would have a hard time recruiting supporters.

Smart thinking on the part of the railroad agent, considering the poor judgment he’d shown yesterday, and downright decent of him. “I owe you a debt,” Val readily admitted, offering his hand. “Thank you.”

Hardt didn’t return the handshake. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m tasked with doing whatever’s necessary to settle disputes and keep construction moving.” Cold-eyed, he picked up an envelope and handed it over the desk to Val. “I’ve assigned you the land. But the only reason I did is because I’m honor bound to do so, given you’ve met the stipulations decreed by the railroad. Personally, I think you’re lower than a rattlesnake for tricking Miss Muldoon into thinking you’ll stick around. I know your type. You’ll be out of here as soon as you pocket the proceeds from the sale.”

Val took the envelope and dropped his hand to his side. He’d not offer it again, not to a man who held him in such contempt. The cut stung worse for having more than a grain of truth. “Regardless of what you think, I would never leave Rose without resources.”

“By that, you mean you offered her money? Did you consider asking her first if money was what she wanted?”

Money was what every woman wanted.

Only, Rose hadn’t turned out to be like every other woman.

Val refused to be dragged into another argument. His conscience had been flaying him for the past eighteen hours. He was well aware he’d taken advantage of Rose’s attraction to him, but she seemed to have gotten over him enough to play along. 

He put on his hat and tucked the envelope into his pocket. Whatever he made, he would give her half. It was the least he could do, as well as seeing to it that she had a nice place to stay, and dresses that covered her ankles. “I’ll take care of my wife.”

Unrelenting, Hardt held his gaze. “And who will take care of her after you’re gone.”

There was something about the railroad agent’s fierce defense that seemed stronger than the usual concern a gentleman showed for a lady. Hardt had a tender spot for Rose. The way his expression softened whenever he looked at her confirmed it, as well as the possibility he would step in to fill the void.

Jealousy blistered Val’s heart. “Are you implying you’ll be the one taking care of her?”

The contempt in Hardt’s gaze turned to disgust. “Only a foul mind could come up with something so base. In case you hadn’t noticed, your
wife
is barely an adult. I’d wager she hasn’t seen more than twenty summers.”

He sat in the desk chair, reached over and took an ink pen out of its holder, dipped it into an inkwell and went back to writing whatever he’d been working on earlier. His actions made it clear he’d ended the conversation.

Simmering, Val left the office. Hardt’s rudeness grated on him, but it wasn’t nearly as vexing as the man’s interest in Rose. Granted, she deserved to find a good husband, but the stodgy railroad agent wasn’t right for her, not at all. Stunted personality, humorless, dour...

Rose had remarkable optimism, given her impoverished background, and an appealing playfulness, which needed to be encouraged. Hardt would stifle her. He was right about one thing, though. Rose was young and innocent. As such, she deserved to be awakened with tenderness and sensitivity, shown all the ways in which she was beautiful and desirable, and coaxed into blooming like the flower she was named after.

Val decided he would do something else for Rose before he left.

He would find her the right man.

Chapter 8

––––––––

A
fter breakfast, Rose followed Susannah into the parlor. She had to get her friend to help her learn how to be a lady as soon as possible. There was no time to waste. Val had gulped down his food and then rushed out the door in a big hurry to get to the railroad office, but also to escape her. He didn’t have to say it. She knew. Last night, she’d heard floorboards creak and moan, as he’d turned and tossed and heaved repeated sighs of frustration. At dawn, he’d slipped out, quietly, so as not to wake anyone. He needn’t have worried about her. She wasn’t asleep, and hadn’t been for most of the night.

In the parlor, Susannah settled into a wingback chair, taking time to adjust her skirts while her son, Danny, hopped onto a matching chair positioned on the other side of a marble-topped table. Rose hesitated. She wanted to be close enough to talk to Susannah, but she’d have to pull up a chair and then she might be a bother if her friend had other plans for the morning.

“Danny, you need to work on your penmanship.” Susannah reached into a satchel and withdrew a writing slate and a piece of chalk.

He made a face. “Do I hafta?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “
Must I?

Danny huffed and drooped over the slate in his lap. He did a fine job of putting on a miserable expression. “
Must I
sit here? I saw some kids outside earlier. They were playing.”

“School before play.”

Rose’s hopes fell. Susannah would be busy with Danny for some time, although this might be the chance to propose a deal. Offer help in exchange for lessons.

“I’ll sit beside ye,” Rose offered. “Will you show me your writing?”

That seemed to perk him up, and Susannah’s relieved expression gave Rose extra hope. She moved a chair next to him and sat down.

“Can you do your alphabet?” She was proud to have learned as much as she had, which included knowing her letters and numbers. Her Da had taught her how to add and subtract, so she wouldn’t get cheated. She knew enough to get by, but not nearly enough to impress her husband.

“Shoot, that’s easy. I can do more than the alphabet.” Danny bent over the slate and began to write a word; the chalk screeched, sending shivers over Rose’s arms. Danny glanced up with an apology in his eyes. “Sorry. That happens when I press down too hard.”

“Makes me shiver. That means you’re doing a good job.”

“Really?” He beamed at her with obvious pride.

She smiled and couldn’t resist ruffling his hair, as she’d done so often with Willy. “You’ll be smarter than those chuckleheads outside, and then they’ll wish they had a mother who could teach them.”

“Chucklehead...” Smiling, he bent over the slate. “How do I spell that?”

Rose gasped. Name-calling wasn’t what Susannah would want to be teaching him. “Spell this instead:
silly Rose
.”

Susannah’s soft release of breath sounded like a laugh, but Rose glanced up to be sure. Sure enough, her friend’s eyes shone with amusement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so interested in penmanship. Thank you, Rose.”

“You’re welcome. I’m happy to help out with Danny as much as I can. I used to watch over my little brother Willy...” Rose stopped mid-sentence. That wasn’t what she’d come in here to talk about, her losses. With Susannah’s help, she’d not have to bear another loss, made worse by rejection. “Would you help me learn to be a lady?”

Susannah’s eyebrows arched.

Danny snickered.

Rose felt her face grow warm. She wondered if they both thought the task would be impossible.

“Rose...you
are
a lady,” Danny giggled through his nose and pointed somewhere in the vicinity of her chest. He’d interpreted her words literally, like most children.

Playing along, she looked down at herself and made a surprised face. “Why, you’re right! I hadn’t noticed.”

Danny doubled over with laughter.

Rose turned to plead with Susannah, who wouldn’t have misinterpreted what she said. “Please, I could repay you for your help. I’ll wash for you, watch Danny when you need to go out.”

Susannah lifted her hand. “Rose, I don’t need payment. I’d be happy to teach you anything within my scope of knowledge. But Danny is right. You are a lady. In the truest sense of the word.”

Rose shook her head. “No, I’m not. Not the right sort of lady.” She searched for the words. “The kind of lady I need to be is the type Val would have on his arm if he hadn’t been pushed into marrying me.”

“If anyone has been
pushed
, it’s you. Mr. Hardt knew better, he’s just so...so...” Susannah clutched her hands in her lap, her body stiffened and her face flushed, even her eyes turned darker, the color of a storm cloud about to erupt. 

“Hard-headed.” Rose supplied a nicer word than what her friend might come up with. The two were matched in stubbornness, but she didn’t point that out. “And I wasn’t pushed. I as much as asked him to marry me, so if anyone was doing the pushing, it was me.”

Susannah stood abruptly. “I believe I hear someone calling us. Danny, continue to work on your penmanship. Rose and I will be back in a moment.” Before Rose could react, her friend motioned her to follow.

When they reached the front hallway, Susannah led her to the door and outside to the porch. She whirled around, her forehead creased with concern. “Mr. Valentine wasn’t pushed into marrying you. He took advantage of your interest in him. You don’t need to prove anything to that opportunist.”

Rose fought a downward tug on her confidence, which had been doing pretty well after Val had kissed her and declared he wanted to do it again. “You don’t think he likes me?”

The intensity on Susannah’s face softened. She gripped Rose’s hands and squeezed before she released them. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He likes you. More than likes you. Why do you believe you need to impress him? Is it because of something he said? Or did?”

Rose looked down, too embarrassed to say her husband hadn’t
done
anything. She pressed her hand against her stomach to still the anxious fluttering. It wouldn’t be right to share those confidences after she’d told Val she would keep quiet about their agreement. “I just want to make him proud to have me on his arm, that’s all.”

Susannah opened her mouth as if she might say something else, and then she closed it. She nodded. “All right, I’ll help you impress your Mr. Valentine.”

Before Rose could speak her thanks, a handful of her skirt was in Susannah’s fist.

“First, we get rid of this...and purchase some proper unmentionables...and shoes.”

Susannah had helped her dress for the wedding. She’d seen the patched undergarments and had loaned Rose a corset and bustle. Rose didn’t much like the corset, but it proved useful in holding things in, and up. Not to mention, proper ladies wore them.

Her face burned hot and she drew her shawl closed to cover the ugly dress. She curled her toes, which this morning had protruded from the end of worn woolen stockings. Tonight, she’d have to darn them. “I got no balsam.”

“Balsam?”

“Money.” Rose wrung her hands. She’d never get this lady business right; she couldn’t even talk properly. “Sorry, got to remember not to use slang.”

“Dear Rose, it’s your husband’s
responsibility
to clothe you. That’s what a gentleman does.” Susannah released her hold on the dress and smiled up at Rose. “Give me an hour with Danny. Afterwards we’ll go see what we can find at the mercantile, and we’ll put it on your husband’s credit.”

Rose shook her head. Val hadn’t offered to purchase new clothes for her. He might expect her to buy them with the money he planned to give her. “I’m not so sure.”

Susannah raised a finger and waggled it at her. “No arguments. You said you wanted to look the part of a lady. Consider this your first lesson.”

***

R
ose clomped along behind Susannah and Danny, trying her best to mimic the way her friend’s hips swayed beneath the bustled skirt. The slight swing looked natural for Susannah. Rose felt like a long-legged fool in big, clumsy boots.

Susannah said they would first look for an everyday walking dress, such as the one she’d donned—light gray wool with black velvet trim. Not a color Rose would pick, but it complimented Susannah’s ash blond hair and made her gray eyes look lighter. She knew how to dress to bring out the best in her shape and coloring. Rose made a mental note to ask about what colors and styles would look best on her. Ladies knew such things. Those from families like Val’s might be born with fashion sense, for all Rose knew.

This business of learning to be a lady was going to take some time. Only, she didn’t have time. She had to hurry up and learn as fast as she could, and then she might stand a chance of convincing Val to keep her.

Susannah came to a halt at the corner where a muddy street intersected. She kept her hand on Danny’s shoulder as they waited for a wagon to creak past. The man driving it nearly twisted his neck off to look at her. She acted like she hadn’t noticed, but it was impossible to miss.

What kind of man would interest a lady like Susannah? For some reason, Mr. Hardt’s image popped into Rose’s head. She laughed out loud. Those two would kill each other...

Susannah turned, looking at her curiously. “What’s so funny?

“Oh, nothing.” Rose swallowed the laughter bubbling up her throat. If not Mr. Hardt, there had to be somebody out there who’d turn Susannah’s head, and Rose would find him. It was the least she could do for her friend.

As Susannah crossed the street, she took careful steps, but there was no way she could keep the spool heels from sinking into the mud. There were times when flat-soled boots came in handy, whether or not they were ladylike.

Outside the store, two men loitered. Both sported the sturdy denims favored by so many of the settlers out here, along with vests of varying colors, box-like coats and shirts without attached collars.

As Susannah approached, the brawny man lifted his hat.

Other books

Whirlwind Revolution by Flynn Eire
Hostage by Geoffrey Household
The Ashford Affair by Lauren Willig
Finding You by Giselle Green
Lullaby Town (1992) by Crais, Robert - Elvis Cole 03
JET - Escape: (Volume 9) by Russell Blake
The Martha Stewart Living Cookbook by Martha Stewart Living Magazine
Ice Cream Murder by Leighann Dobbs