Give My Love to Rose (10 page)

Rose mentally kicked herself for forgetting
about that bruise and coming out in something that didn’t keep it
covered. Langley’s eyes widened when he too caught sight of her
neck. “Oh, this?” she asked, laying her hand over the mark and
attempting to come up with some excuse for it.

“
Yeah that. And don’t try
to lie to me because I can tell when a person is lying,” Marston
warned. His stomach was tied in knots as anger raged in his blood.
He would kill whoever had put those bruises on her soft, white
skin. Rose looked more like an angel than ever this morning with
her red curls wild around her head and the sunshine shimmering on
her white sleeping gown and robe. Her full cheeks were flushed,
outlining her freckles and her blue eyes were wide and innocent as
she stared up at him.

He was the opposite of her in every way. An
angel to his devil. Marston would defend her against whoever had
done her wrong.

“
Langley go to the river
and get a bucket of water to clean the floors with,” Rose ordered,
her gaze moving to her son.

“
But mama, I wanna know
where you got that bruise too,” Langley insisted.

“
Langley…” she
warned.

“
No mama,” he refused
stubbornly.

“
Boy, you better listen to
your mama. She works her ass off for you so the least you could do
is not give her the added stress of not doing as she tells you,”
Marston snapped.

Langley glared up at him a moment but then
heaved out a sigh and nodded as he dropped the hammer to the
ground. “Yes, sir.”

“
What happened?” Marston
asked again once they were alone.

Rose kept one hand over her bruise though it
was too small to completely block it from Marston’s view. “You
didn’t mean to, Marston… You were startled that’s all. I shouldn’t
have been so close to you when I was trying to wake you…”

Rose stopped speaking and stared wide-eyed
at Marston as he stumbled backward and his tanned face paled. A
painful grimace washed over his features. “I..I did that?” he
croaked.

“
You didn’t mean to!” Rose
assured him as she rushed forward and grabbed his big arm in her
hands. “It was an accident and as soon as you realized it was me,
you let go.”

Marston looked down at her fragile hands on
him and yanked himself away. “I warned you about keeping your
distance, didn’t I?”

“
I’m not afraid of you,
Marston,” Rose vowed firmly. Though inside she knew that wasn’t
entirely the truth. She was afraid of him. Afraid of the way he
made her feel. Afraid of the things he made her want. She was
afraid that she might be falling in love with a man who was bound
to take off and leave her behind.

“
You should be, Rose. You
should be afraid of me,” Marston replied, his gaze on the
ground.

“
You didn’t mean to hurt
me,” Rose insisted, stepping forward once again and laying her hand
on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. This time Marston
didn’t jerk away.

“
I could have, Rose. I
could have hurt you and I wouldn’t have been the least bit
sorry.”

Rose snorted with laughter which caused his
golden eyes to widen. “You would too have felt bad. Look at you
now! You’re beating yourself up over something you did when you
were delirious with a head injury!”

Marston frowned. “I never beat myself up
over the things that I do. I steal from people and they cry? Too
bad I need the money too. I shoot a man and his wife sobs at my
feet? Too bad, it was either him or me. Guilt is a waste of damn
time.”

Rose stared up at him. That anger was back.
The anger that seemed to have no cause. She tried desperately to
read his other emotions and was a bit surprised that she could to a
certain extent. She hadn’t known him long, but the man wasn’t as
good at hiding things as he thought he was. The man certainly
seemed angry, but Rose knew it was a cover for the fear, guilt and
uncertainty she could also see.

No doubt those three things were incredibly
dangerous for a man who lived the way Marston did.

Rose had had her suspicions about Marston
and so she wasn’t surprised to hear he’d stolen and killed before.
Rose still had no fear that this man would hurt her or her son
physically. Whatever Marston had been in the past, he wasn’t that
same man any longer. Something inside him had changed—shifted.
There was a warmth in his golden eyes that hadn’t been there just
two days ago.

Rose had learned long ago that the world was
not black and white. Good men did bad things and bad men did good
things. No one was simply good or bad. Life was much more
complicated and there were no such things as saints and devils.

Langston had been what many would have
considered a bad man. But he had saved her life when he had bought
her from the back of that wagon. He had told her later that what
had compelled him to pay so much to get her out of that life hadn’t
been the scars she’d been covered in but the deadness in her blue
eyes.

A deadness that years of rape and torture
had caused but that nine months with Langston and ten years with
her son had finally healed. If she could be saved, so could
Marston.

“
You’re not all bad,” she
insisted. “You brought that money to Langley and I. You carried me
into the house when the news was too much for me to
handle.”

“
I dragged you,” Marston
admitted, looking for any way to downplay his actions. He didn’t
like being reminded of the softness he had shown for these
people.

Rose rolled her eyes, (in a movement that he
found impossibly endearing), before continuing. “You sat with my
son so he wouldn’t be afraid.”

“
He followed me outside
and I threatened to tie him up, gag him and toss him on the sofa
with you if he didn’t quit talking so much.”

“
Yes, but you
didn’t.”

Marston’s mouth clamped shut and he crossed
his arms over his chest with a growl before staring into the woods
to avoid her gaze. Rose smiled. “And then you cooked for us,
defended me to Hester and Hattie and even went so far as to help me
load and unload my supplies. You chased our worthless horse into
the woods and nearly got yourself killed in the process but still
managed to work on our corral and now our shutters… not to mention
the tender way you kiss away pain…” Rose blushed and she felt
Marston’s gaze return to her. “You cannot tell me you’re all bad,”
she added, her eyes locked on his chest.

“
Maybe I’m just earning
your trust so I can have that much more fun when I torture you and
run off with everything you have.”

Rose looked up at his face and saw that
glint in his eyes and that same false smile he’d used on the
sisters at the mercantile. She rolled her eyes and stared hard at
him. “Then I’m afraid you’ll be awfully disappointed. I’ve been
tortured enough in my life that the thought doesn’t frighten me and
anything of value that might have once been here is long gone.”

“
Is there more than one
goddamn woman living in that head of yours?” Marston demanded,
tossing his hands in the air.

“
What kind of question is
that?” Rose asked, as Langley returned and Marston bent to retrieve
the fallen hammer and sack of nails.

“
A good one,” Marston
insisted. “One minute you’re soft spoken and gentle and the next
you’re riled up and full of fire.”

“
You are not one to
criticize anyone else for having mood swings,” she scolded. “And I
am quiet most of the time because life has taught me that getting
angry rarely solves anything. Let’s just say that you seem to have
a knack for bringing that particular emotion out of me.”

Rose took the bucket of water from Langley,
thanked him for getting it and then turned on her heel and strode
back around the cabin.

“
Is mama okay?” Langley
asked.

Marston sighed and pulled off his hat. He
scratched at his thick brown hair and shrugged. “Hell, kid, I don’t
know. You can’t never tell when you’re dealing with a woman.”

Langley let out a pained sigh and nodded.
“Ain’t that the truth?”

Marston chuckled and the two went back to
work.

***

Marston was sitting beside the river that
evening and his mind was racing. He didn’t like being told he was a
good person when he knew for a fact that he wasn’t.

But try as he might, he couldn’t bring
himself to do anything bad to these people to prove Rose wrong. He
only wished he knew why.

‘
You like having someone
you can be softer with.’

Marston snorted. “Being soft gets you
killed. Just ask my kitten.”

‘
Would you shut up about
the kitten? That was a long time ago.’

“
I was young and it was
traumatic,” Marston shot back.

‘
Well, you’re not young
anymore and it’s okay to care about someone and let them care about
you.’

Marston grabbed up a rock and threw it
roughly into the water, enjoying the way the peaceful current was
thrown into chaos. He’d like to toss his newfound conscience into
that damn river.

Marston had to get away from this place and
these people. He was bound to hurt them—hell he already had! His
stomach churned when he thought of those bruises on Rose’s pale
skin. Those weren’t the first bruises he’d ever put on a woman, but
he’d be damned if he’d ever put another bruise on any woman. Hell,
he felt as if someone had ripped his guts out knowing he’d done
that to her—to anyone.

Marston wasn’t good. He didn’t know how to
be. Any goodness in him had been whipped out by that headmaster a
long time ago and if any had been left, it had been ironed out by
Duke. Marston was hard, cold and ruthless and that’s exactly how he
liked it.

“
Marston! Mama said it’s
time to come eat!” Langley called. “We already said grace so we
wouldn’t ruin your appetite this time.”

Marston sighed and pushed himself to his
feet, cursing at the searing pain in his leg. ‘Go on, you big bad
outlaw. Go running to the boy.’ Great now the voice in his head was
mocking him—Marston wondered if that was a sign his brain had gone
completely soft.

Despite being angry with himself for
following orders, Marston headed toward the house to eat supper.
This would be his last night here. Marston would leave while
everyone slept and be gone come morning.

Chapter Nine

Marston saddled his gray under the cover of
darkness and led the horse out of the barn. His heart was heavy as
he prepared to climb into the saddle. Then the unmistakable sound
of feminine sobs reached his ears and stopped Marston in his
tracks.

Rose was crying.

Not his problem. Not his problem. Not his
problem. It was no us. Marston wasn’t going anywhere until he
figured out what was wrong with her. He hitched the horse to the
newly repaired corral fence and headed toward the cabin.

The kitchen shutters were open and Marston
peeked inside to find her leaning against the counter with her
forehead pressed against the overhead cabinets. She wasn’t crying
loud. It was a quiet cry accompanied by body-wracking spasms.
Marston felt his heart constrict in his chest and there was no
denying it, not matter how badly he wanted to. Marston cared about
Rose.

He entered the cabin without a sound and
without taking the time to give thought to what he was doing,
Marston strode to her, grabbed her arm and spun her around and
pulled her into his chest, holding her tightly against him.

Rose stiffened at first and Marston wondered
if she was going to fight against him but then her entire body
softened and she fell into him, clinging to his shirt and sobbing.
Her entire body shook and trembled with the intensity of her tears
but slowly as Marston stroked her back, the wave of sorrow seemed
to subside.

Marston felt her squirming and realized that
the cold metal bullets in his bandolier were digging into her
cheek. Marston quickly released his hold on her and retreated to
the other side of the kitchen table, placing plenty of distance
between them.

Rose’s face was red and streaked with tears
as she stared at him. “Are you okay?” Marston questioned, once he
had control of his voice once again. Holding Rose in his arms had
been the nearest to heaven that he had ever been and his body
seemed to have been burned by her closeness.

“
Yes,” Rose whispered, her
gaze dropping awkwardly. “I had a bad dream.” She swiped at her
cheeks, angry and embarrassed that she had been caught
crying—especially by a man who had probably never been weak a day
in his life.

“
Must have been a hell of
a dream,” Marston noted. He filled a glass with water from the
pitcher on the counter and placed it in Rose’s hand, careful to
keep their fingers from touching.

Rose took a long drink as Marston once again
positioned himself on the opposite side of the table. She wanted
nothing more than to throw herself back into Marston’s strong arms.
Being held against him had caused a peace to wash over her like
Rose had never felt before. Just once in her life she wanted to be
weak and allow someone else to be strong for her…

But she didn’t have that luxury. Marston was
all dressed up and ready to leave and Rose had a son to care for
and a million worries taking up her plate.

“
I’m fine,” she assured
tightly.

“
Were they dreams about
your past?”

Rose shivered. “Yes. But they aren’t
something I’m going to talk about.” At least not to a man who’s
preparing to leave me behind.