Romance: JADEN: An MMA Fighter Romance (Bad Boy Tattoo Romance) (New Adult Pregnancy Short Stories) (55 page)

“Nothing much,” Mary said, shrugging as she scribbled something down on a spare bit of parchment. “That will be ten even.” The blond took her small satchel and opened it up. Rosaline bit back a cry of surprise. She had enough money stuffed in that little thing to pay for Adrian’s entire apothecary shop and then some. She would feast like a king with that kind of money, as well as everyone down the street that she felt inclined to share with.

The woman placed a few coins on the counter, gathered up her herbs and tinctures and said, “Keep the change. You must need it if old oafs are marrying Russian toads these days.” She stormed past Rosaline without even looking at her, and Rosaline felt something akin to rage fire her stomach. She followed the woman, using her longer legs to her advantage and sliding in front of her to prevent her exit.

“What did you say?” she asked, impersonating Mama’s ‘I don’t have time to play around today’ tone as well as she could. She loomed over the small woman, trying to rearrange her face into something that would scare the girl. It didn’t seem to work, for the girl only raised an eyebrow and gave her a smirk that was worthy of all the words she could have said.

“Please move out of my way,” she said.

“I will once you repeat to me what you called my husband.”

That surprised Rosaline much more than it surprised the woman. She simply gave Rosaline a tight smile that could freeze the entire planet and slid around her, shoving her shoulder into Rosaline’s in order to move her out of the way. “I apologize,” she sniped, glancing back as she grasped the banister of the stairs and paused for effect. “I did not think that you could understand me.”

Curse the imbecile girl. Rosaline grit her teeth together, fully preparing to give the woman a taste of her own medicine when she felt a hand on her arm. “Best to leave that bear unpoked,” Mary said.

Rosaline sagged. “Who was she?” she asked as the woman tilted her head up so that her nose was thoroughly in the air and walked down the sidewalk as if she laid claim to the very land she walked upon. “She was a nasty sort of girl.”

“That,” Mary said, closing the door and cutting off Rosaline’s view of the little imp. “Was Mercy Armstrong. Her family owns most of this town and half of the Montana territory. Her father must be traveling through the area and she went to fetch him some herbs and such. Speaking of which, I will get you your medicine right away for that poor little calf.”

Rosaline still had her eyes narrowed at the door, trying to figure out what the girl had against her.

“She is nasty to everyone,” Mary added, prompting Rosaline to step away and focus herself back on the task at hand. “Do not take it personally. She terrorizes everyone who she sees as lesser than her, and you are just her newest fixation. It will pass soon enough, and you will blend in with the rest of us peasants.”

Rosaline finally turned and gave the apothecary a smile. “Thank you, Mary,” she said. It was an amazing thing to have been able to find someone so kind and so cruel in the space of a quarter of an hour. She didn’t know how she always managed to find such extremes so quickly.

“The thing that was amazing to see was the way you defended old Edward,” Mary added, absentmindedly crushing a few herbs into a powder with a mortar and pestle. “You truly love him, and that is a thing that you do not see much around here. Most marry for convenience or money. He is a lucky man.”

Rosaline felt as if she had been hit in the chest. Why had she jumped so quickly to his defense when he wasn’t even here to see her? It wasn’t as if she had to keep up the charade that she loved him, she had never had to do that. It was as Mary had just said. Most married for convenience or money, and Rosaline’s was most definitely the latter.

Wasn’t it?

She paid for the medicine in mute shock, only rousing herself enough to tell the woman she was happy to meet her, and then riding the horse back to the ranch.

###

Rosaline had a problem.

It kept her up at night, and it wouldn’t let her rest during the day. She was constantly plagued by it, even when she managed to put it out of mind, because the simplest things would remind her of it.

That problem was Edward Fitzgerald. He niggled at her brain like something stuck in her teeth, and she couldn’t get him out. It wasn’t for lack of trying. She imagined herself back home in the apothecary shop that Adrian’s family owned, but the more she thought about it, the more she found that she couldn’t remember Adrian’s exact scent or the way his eyes twinkled when she would bring him fresh pastries from the marketplace. Instead, she would find herself thinking of pines and wood smoke and unearthly grey eyes that seemed to have the ability to slice her to ribbons in mere seconds.

After that day in the apothecary shop, Rosaline found herself doubting herself for the first time since she was twelve. No, it wasn’t herself. It was her heart. She doubted its direction, and she tried with all of her might to remind herself of why she loved Adrian. His smile, the way he was able to take her to another world in moments with his absolutely outlandish tales of slaying dragons and valiant knights that would save princesses from evil sorceresses. She loved the way he cared about each and every person who came into his shop, seeking help for one malady or another. Most of all, she loved the way he seemed to be able to put aside the rest of the world and focus on her, only her. She had grown up with absentminded people who didn’t look at her as she spoke, and the feeling of being able to be completely heard and listened to for once in her life made her feel as if she were a complete and actual person.

She mulled over the good qualities of Adrian almost defiantly as her mind continued to whisper to her, Edward is that as well.

Finally, one day when she had been there for an entire season, and spring had given way into summer and the flowers were in full bloom she decided that she would compare Adrian and Edward.

Her mother had always taught her to take two dresses side by side and look them over, see the flaws in each and take into account how much she would wear each one if she bought one or the other, and that usually decided for her what clothes she should buy. Mama was still helping her, though she didn’t know it.

She sat down at the desk that Edward had told her could be hers a few weeks ago when she had received her first letter from back home and wanted to write a reply and pulled out a blank sheet of parchment.

Feeling like a complete and utter fool, Rosaline wrote Edward’s name on one side, drew a line down the middle, and wrote Adrian’s name on the other.

She started with Adrian, trying to convince herself that he was the best match without even going over to Edward’s side, but it kept calling to her. The parallels that were presented in the two.

Edward was just as bright and caring as Adrian. He cared for his animals and her as if they were made of gold and she of diamond. His uncanny gaze made her instantly feel as if he could see inside of her, see her very thoughts before she spoke them. It could be disconcerting, but when those eyes were laughing and she was discussing his latest book with him, she felt as if he knew her in a way that no one else could.

An ink drop splatted onto Edward’s side as she held the pen above the paper, hovering. She didn’t move to wipe it away, didn’t even give it a second glance as she continued thinking. His physical attractiveness wasn’t the same instant blow to the soul as Adrian’s. Adrian was like the sun, bright and nearly blinding and very noticeable, even from across a room or a crowded street. Edward’s beauty was in the subtleness of it. He wasn’t overtly handsome, but his eyes made him stand out, and made one take in the rest of his face, the cheekbones that were indeed as high as Rosaline had imagined them to be that first night when he had come into her room and the straight nose that led down to the thin lips that weren’t too wide to be called ugly. His jaw was square and a little off center, making it so that one didn’t see the extent of the beauty at first, but the longer one stared at Edward Fitzgerald, the more beautiful he became.

Rosaline crushed the paper in her hand, not caring that the ink smeared it black. She had seen worse things on her hands in the few months she had spent at Edward’s ranch. Edward wouldn’t ask her what had happened, either. He constantly had dirt encrusted beneath his nails and ruggedly embedded in each and every available crevice.

It was just in time, too. The front door closed, and Rosaline stood. She was downstairs, and he would see her in a few moments, and she needed to look more composed than how she felt at the moment. He would see it in her face and ask her what was wrong, perhaps brush a finger across her jaw. That would be her undoing and she would probably fall to the floor and profess her love for him right then and there.

It would be exactly what he wanted, and she couldn’t let him do that. They were both stubborn; something else that drew them together and pushed them apart at the same time. They both knew how to dig their heels in and fight for what they wanted.

Stop it, Rosaline told herself. This is not the time. Her brain seemed to disagree, however, because a moment later when she saw Edward, her mouth opened of its own accord. “I—I…” she trailed off, turning away before he could see the blush that stained her cheeks, and perhaps her entire face and neck.

Edward looked over at her when she dared to glance back at him, raising one brow. “Such a lovely greeting from my lovely wife,” he said, coming forward and sweeping a low bow. “How does her majesty fair this fine evening?”

He is old enough to be your father, Rosaline told herself. Strangely, that didn’t affect her the way it had before when she had first discovered the horrifying fact that she might be in love with him. He is a rancher. And a smart, funny and lovely one at that. What about Adrian? Rosaline shook her head. No, she told herself. This will not happen. “You should not call me that,” Rosaline said after a few moments, and most definitely avoiding Edward’s question.

Edward scoffed, setting something on the table. It was large, covered with a cloth and completely undeterminable. “If that is what you wish, darling girl.”

“What is that?” Rosaline said, distracting herself from the endearment as fully as she possibly could.

Edward gave her his grin, the crooked one that made his face look all the more crooked for it. “Why I thought you would never ask, darling.” He made a show of taking the cover off with a swooping motion worthy of one of the moving pictures that had just begun to gain popularity back home.

A sewing machine gleamed up at her, well-used but well taken care of as well. She looked up at Edward in confusion. “A sewing machine?” She knew how to sew, but Mama had made her stop once they were a part of high society.

“We cannot afford to sew our own clothes,” she had said. “What will the people think? We would be the gossip of the entire town.”

“I cannot buy you new clothes as another man might, for I have not the funds,” Edward said, his gaze somewhat somber. “And I hope that this will take the edge off of the loathing you feel towards that statement. You will have fabrics and whatever threads you may need whenever the traders come through here to make your own clothes.”

Rosaline stood completely still for a few moments, feeling her heart expand to an impossible size at the unexpected gift. She had always loved sewing, and had secretly sewn whatever she could whenever she could use Sasha’s machine. She could never wear what she had sewn, for Mama would call her out on it, but she had always kept her skills sharp and honed just in case she would ever need it.

“Do you not like it? I can take it back,” Edward said after a few moments, glancing between her and the machine. “If you prefer something else for your birthday—

“It is perfect,” Rosaline burst out without even thinking about it. “This is the most perfect gift I have ever received—how do you know that it is my birthday?” she had forgotten the sentiment herself; losing track of time in the wilderness with nothing else to remind her.

Edward smiled. “I noticed the change of your age when we corresponded through letter at this time last year. You mentioned something of it.”

Suddenly it was too much, and Rosaline took a few steps back and away from this kindness, this perfection that Edward was offering her.

Her heart had made its choice, and she was scared. “I—I am sorry,” she said, feeling tears gather in her eyes. “I have to go upstairs.” She turned on her heel and hurried up the stairs as fast as she could, trying to run from her heart’s choice as well.

###

The knock came on her door precisely as it had the last time and the time before that, and every night before that. Edward came to her room each night, offering her the same thing that he had offered the first night: an offer to join him in his bed.

She closed her eyes, though they had been open from the moment she had laid down. The door opened a moment later, and Edward’s slow footsteps echoed surprisingly loudly in the quiet room, and she felt the bed dip beneath her. She could see the flickering shadows of the flame as it danced over the walls. This was a familiar thing that she could lose herself in, if only for a bit.

“Rose,” Edward said softly, touching her cheek. “I know that you are awake.”

Rosaline let out a breath and opened her eyes and looked down at Edward’s face, as beautiful as it had been the first night she had seen it in this particular light.

“Would you like to join me?” Edward asked, taking Rosaline’s hand in his own and stroking his thumb over the knuckles. Rosaline condoned this, if only to give her time to think. She closed her eyes once more, trying with every fiber of her being to not say yes. She would say yes in a heartbeat if her heart had anything to say about it. But she remembered to keep her mind’s wit around her as well. It hurt her almost physically as she gave him the same answer she had for the past few months.