Rose of Betrayal (4 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Lowe

BOOK: Rose of Betrayal
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Between sobs and blowing her nose
red, having used a half box of tissues, Sarah reached to rub her husband's
beard roughened cheek, her eyes expressing the love deep in her heart. “How
could I ever forget?
 
Our Sam is so young
and vulnerable.
 
Ted appears to be a good
man from a fine family; however, my gut feelings say it will not work.
 
She knows nothing about his worldly ways, or
those of the rich and powerful.
 
Ten
years her senior will force one of them to change.
 
I'm afraid it will be our Sam.”

 

           
Lovingly caressing his wife, drawing
in a deep breath Jim kissed her forehead.
 
Sarah was rarely wrong, but Jim knew despite
their feelings, Sam would surely leave.
  
Attempting to convince his wife and himself, he nudged her ear.
 
“We'll have to trust her, my love.
 
Have patience and be there for her if she
needs us.”
 
Sleep did not deliver comfort
to the Waverly house that evening.
 
          
                      

 

           
They drove to the airport early the
next morning in silence, each fully aware of the other's feelings.
 
Awaiting Sam’s boarding, with tear-streaked cheeks,
they huddled hugging and kissing.
 
No
conversation took place.
 
The tide of
change was gnawing at their insides, a force capable of undermining the past.
 
Each knew when they met again nothing would
be the same.
 

 

           
Reaching deep within his throat, Jim
broke the thick veil of silence.
 
“If you
need anything, my sweet, let us know.
 
You'll call once a week, promise, and, when you land and when you get to
the hotel.”

 

           
Fighting back the enormous pressure
of her own tears, arms wringing his neck so tightly his face turned red, Sam
attempted reassurance.
 
“Yes, papa, I
promise.
 
I love you, papa.”
 

“I love you too, my
sweet.”

“Mamma, oh, mamma,
please stop crying,” Sam pleaded.

 

           
Crying throughout the night and all
the way to the airport left Sarah speechless.
 
Oppressive was the need to cradle her child to her breast one last time,
reaching out she wrapped her in a bear hug.
 
After kissing Sam's cheek her thumb quickly cleansed away the impression
of pale pink lipstick, a lasting remembrance Sam wished remained.

 

           
With her face aglow with
anticipation, bubbling with excitement Sam rambled on until the final boarding
call.
 
“I'll call and write and send you
postcards and pictures and newspapers.”
   

 

           
For the first time love's bud had
burst into bloom.
 
Enveloping happiness
was taking her on a voyage all young women eagerly await.
 
Jim and Sarah had to cling to the thought
that everything would be fine once she was with Ted.
 
The time had come to sever the apron strings,
to send their daughter on her way to claim her future.
 
Though she would no longer look to them for
strength, in their hearts, she'd forever be their sweet, long awaited baby
daughter.
 

 

           
Forcing a fake smile, Sam waved, and
threw a kiss before disappearing down the ramp to board her chariot soon to
become a tiny morsel consumed by a city with a ravenous appetite.
 
If her parents had known the consequences,
they never would have let her go.
   
 
      

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..………………………………………………………………………………

 

           
Varying miniature scenes below,
beckoned Sam's attention, the earth resembling a patchwork quilt made from a
collage of fall colors.
 
She believed it
to be the most beautiful

time of the year to
fly, then wondered what portrait winter would paint with its brush of ice and
snow, reflections
 
making her think
briefly maybe flying wasn’t so bad after all.

 

           
A voice over the microphone snapped
her from pleasant revelries.
 
“This is
Captain Brook.
 
We will be arriving at
LaGuardia in approximately fifteen minutes where abundant sunshine awaits
you.
 
As the plane descends, look to your
right you will see a magnificent view of the Statue of Liberty.
 
We trust you had a comfortable flight.
 
Thank you for selecting us.
 
Enjoy your stay in the Big Apple.”

 

           
Recalling rumors of the first and
last fifteen minutes of flight considered the most dangerous, the fear
embracing Sam worsened as the plane descended through layers of clouds.
 
Then, like a flash of a camera, a childhood
fantasy came true.
 
Bathed in the sun's
rays, Ms. Liberty held her torch high and proud welcoming everyone to the home
of the free and brave, pride in her country burst to attention sending goose
bumps skipping over her skin.
 
Was this
how everyone felt when they first came to America, she wondered?
 

“How did you enjoy
your flight, Samantha,” Barb asked.

With an impish grin,
Sam replied, “Actually, don't tell anyone, but it was wonderful.”
 

“Then you'll join us
again sometime?”

A bubbly giggle
escaped when Sam quickly retorted, “Well, I'm not too sure about that, but I
have to get home somehow.”
 

“Be sure to
straighten your seat and buckle up.
 
We
will be on the ground in five minutes.
 
Enjoy!”
 

“Thank you.
 
I plan to,” Sam replied confidently.
 

 

           
Continuing down the aisle, Barb paused
shortly wondering how a sweet, young, country bumpkin like Sam was going to
make it in the blackboard jungle of New York.

 

           
It was interesting, Sam reflected,
how the flight held at bay reflections of Ted, considering since meeting him he
had completely invaded her mind.
 
After
Ted's departure, she spent many long, lonely evenings on the porch
circumscribing her home reminiscing and planning her future.

 

           
Using her mother’s odd material as a
young child she spent hours designing outfits for her dolls, then in High
School her own wardrobe.
 
Receiving
numerous accolades, she began sewing for many of her friends.
 
Volunteer work; helping with costumes for the
school plays, and her insatiable ambition propelled her towards a future in
design.
 
Recognizing promise, a teacher
encouraged her and with her assistance, she compiled a portfolio of drawings
that won a college scholarship.
 

 

           
In June, Sam graduated with
honors.
 
The manufacturers from
well-known firms flocking to the graduation show where each student displayed
the required twelve designs made several promising propositions. To their
disappointment, Sam held firmly to her dream of one day becoming an independent
designer with her own studio.
      

 

           
With that goal in mind, Sam lived
meagerly throughout college saving every cent earned from sewing and repairing
clothing.
 
The summer after graduation,
she sketched and waited for the right moment to make her move.
 
It was fate, she decided, when Ted returned
home on vacation.
 
Showing interest in
both her and her dream, he encouraged her to visit New York luring her with
enthralling stories of life in Manhattan.
 
He had connections to get her started; he said with such enthusiasm that
she accepted the invitation.

 

           
After kissing her thoroughly, Ted
begged her to make the move as soon as possible.
 
“When you're ready contact me.
 
I will send you an airline ticket, money and
have a limo to pick you up at the airport.
 
You can stay with Brad and me.
 
I
want to show you everything.
 
Just think
of all the time we'd have together without your parents.”
 

 

           
Holding her possessively with one
arm, the fingers of his other hand tracing her spine slid to small firm
buttocks.
 
Both hands cupping them easily
raised her to her toes pressing her hips closer to his loins.
 
Feathering light kisses down her neck, he
moaned her name.
 
A hand claimed her
breast.

 

           
Naive Sam was not, she knew Ted
wanted her, the invitation a ploy to lure her into a relationship with no
promises.
 
During the month, they had
dated words of love he never spoke.
 
Each
time they were together, it became exceedingly more difficult to stop his
embraces, his demanding kisses, and the tongue that forever sought the depths
of her mouth while his body undulated against hers.
  

 

           
 
Sam's puppy love experiences were nothing
compared to Ted, her adolescent kisses, experimental.
 
Ted’s face showed strength and character, his
cavalier attitude enough to charm the most vicious rattlesnake.
 
Sex appeal, he had more than his fair share,
not to mention confidence.
 
He had
successfully nudged open the door to adult passion making Sam wonder for the
first time if he was the one to carry her across passion's threshold.
 
Yes, unexpectedly and completely Ted swept
her off her feet.
 
For the first time she
longed to experience intimacy between a man and a woman.
 

 

           
Troubling her now was wondering if
she could surrender completely.
 
Still a
virgin, she had reservations about satisfying a man who had a reputation as a
womanizer.
 
Planning to give her
virginity as a gift on her wedding night, she worried she could not convince
Ted to respect her wishes.
 
Though he did
not pressure her, she burned where his eyes touched, where his skilled hands
branded her as his own.
 
Ted was the
first man ever to make her passion rise and ache for release.
 
His demanding kisses and strength told her he
would not be a gentle lover, and she wondered if that was what ignited the fire
deep within.
 
No man had discovered her
secret yearnings, or had pushed her over the edge.

 

           
The planes’ engines reversing as it
landed halted Sam's erotic fantasies. An event that convinced her landing was
definitely worse than taking off. Closing her eyes, she summarized the entire
experience, never again would she fly.
 

 

           
There was no need to rush to gather
her belongings; feelings others did not share. Held captive she was in her seat
while in typical New York fashion, the race was on.
 
Bags fell to the floor; tempers flared, and
forgotten were all manners.
 
All at once,
Sam wondered what happened to chivalry and if she had made the right decision.

 
 

CHAPTER FIVE

 
 

“JUNE 2011”

 

           
A
careening streak of scarlet came to a halt outside the hospitals' emergency
entrance.
  
Barely inhaling sufficient
oxygen Brad swiftly covered the distance to the admission desk.
  
“Where is she?
 
Is she all right?
 
Where did they take her,” his hysterical
bellows breaking through the chaos of screaming children, moaning victims',
irate patients, and endless sirens.
 

 

           
In
unison, two nurses turned in acknowledgment, an elderly, portly, one replying,
“calm down, sir.
 
Take a deep breath and
tell us whom you are inquiring about.” Approaching, placing a firm grip on the
stranger's arm, Evelyn turned the young man to face her.
 
Evident was the pain reflecting from dull,
dark eyes filled with frantic worry.
 

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