Wild Texas Rose (14 page)

Chapter 21

K
illian O’Toole decided he should go back to
bed and start over. He’d planned on leaving the hotel early, collecting a couple of things for breakfast, and seeing Victoria before he had to begin playing his role of friend and groomsman to August Myers.

But before he had crossed the lobby, the major spotted him.

“Judge!” Victoria’s father yelled. “Hold up.”

Killian watched as Major Chamberlain ordered the bellman to load his luggage.

“I wanted to catch you and Myers before I leave. I absolutely have to be in Galveston as quickly as possible. I have full faith that August and the lawmen will find my daughter, but I wanted your assurance that you’ll help in the search. As a judge, you must be able to put pressure to widen the search. The dumb girl can’t walk a dog without getting lost. She couldn’t be far.”

“I’ll do all I can,” Killian promised, not admitting to the major that a circuit judge had no power. If he did, he wouldn’t be spending the week riding from town to town.

“I know you will.” Major Chamberlain patted Killian on the shoulder. “I expect her to be in Galveston by the end of the week even if Myers has to tie her up and drag her across the state.” The major smiled suddenly. “Any chance you could marry them? Judges do that, don’t they?”

“We do.” Killian felt sick at the idea. “I’ll try to be of service to your daughter, sir.”

“I’m depending on you.” The major looked like he was waiting to be saluted. When it didn’t happen, he stormed out of the lobby as if charging into battle.

Killian wasn’t sure he’d said good-bye to him. The man’s total lack of love for his child shocked him. Though Killian had no memory of his father since he’d died soon after his son’s birth, he’d always thought that fathers were supposed to worry about their children.

An hour later, when Killian crossed through the wet grass and slipped out the back gate heading toward the mercantile, he still couldn’t get the major’s words out of his head. Victoria had no mother to raise her and no father who cared. He was glad he’d been brave enough to hold her and tell her he was on her side. He’d said simply, “If you don’t want this marriage, walk away.” She hadn’t said a word, just kissed him and disappeared into the unlocked door of her friend’s room. An hour later, she’d tapped on his door and said, ‘I’ve walked away. Will you protect me?’

“With my life,” he’d whispered, and meant it.

Now Killian couldn’t wait to see her this morning. He wanted to hold her and let her know someone did care about her, but she seemed so fragile. Right now she needed a friend, not a lover. He knew Abe Henderson promised to leave the back door to his business unlocked in daylight so no one would suspect him entering the store, but they might think it strange that he had a key to an abandoned bakery.

“Morning.” He waved to Abe standing at his tall desk halfway between the store and the storeroom.

“Morning.” Abe grinned. “In a little while I’ll close for lunch. I usually lock both doors and have a little nap. You make yourself at home if you need something from the store.”

“Have you heard anything from above?” Killian pointed to where he’d left Victoria.

“Not a sound.”

Killian headed down the hallway and took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he paused, unsure what to do. Finally, he tapped lightly.

She didn’t answer.

Killian tapped again and said, “Victoria, it’s me.”

The door flew open and she was in his arms. Killian laughed. “I guess you’re glad to see me.”

She smiled. “Of course, but I’m starving. What took you so long? What’s going on at the hotel? Is my father furious? Is poor Rose worried out of her mind?”

“Hold on.” Killian pushed her gently into the apartment kitchen. “One question at a time. Why are you hungry? I brought up three boxes of supplies last night.”

Victoria didn’t meet his gaze. “I can’t cook.”

“Not even scrambled eggs?”

“Nothing. I can order meals in five languages, but I’ve never made anything to eat besides sandwiches out of cold meat and bread.”

Killian found it hard to believe that an adult couldn’t at least cook for herself, but Victoria was unique, unlike anyone he’d ever known. “I’m not much of a cook either, but I could make you eggs and toast.” He held up the bag he’d carried over from the hotel. “While you wait, I have hot rolls and apples.”

“Great.” She took the bag and began rummaging. “Can you answer questions as you work? These aren’t going to last long.”

“Of course. I’m surprised you didn’t go nuts up here without anyone to talk to.” He tugged off his coat and hung it on a peg, then tied an apron around his waist. He smiled, thinking how good it felt to have someone need him.

Just as he cracked an egg against the skillet, she answered, “I would have been lonely, but Shawn kept me company. We talked for a while and he promised to watch over me until dawn.”

Killian froze. A few times when he’d been drunk he’d thought he had seen or heard the ghost, but Killian had never known anyone else who did. “You saw Shawn?” he asked, forcing himself to move slowly while preparing for the next shock.

“No. Of course I didn’t see him. But he talked to me. Told me he’d stay near.”

Killian frowned. Shawn was his private ghost. He wasn’t sure he believed in him except when he’d had way too much to drink. If he even hinted that Victoria might be crazy, he’d be condemning himself as well. “Did he make you feel better?”

“Yes. He made me feel not so alone. He called me ‘honey’ just like my grandfather used to do when I was little.”

Killian smiled. If Victoria wanted to play like she’d talked to Shawn, what did it matter if it gave her comfort? He’d done the same thing since he’d left his brother’s body on the battlefield. If he kept talking to Shawn, somehow he wasn’t quite so alone in the world and Shawn didn’t seem so dead.

When he’d met Victoria that day in the cemetery, he’d sensed her need to talk to someone, for she too felt alone. Their shared longing had pulled her to him even more than her beauty. Like him, she’d turned to books sometimes and between them they’d decided they’d read almost every book in the library.

As he cooked their meal, he told her all about what he’d seen and heard from the hotel. She didn’t seem the least bit worried about her father or Myers. The only one she seemed concerned about was Rose.

“She deserves a better friend than me,” Victoria finally said. “I asked her to come because I knew she’d be on my side. She was always like that in school. No matter what a fool I made of myself, she never laughed or turned away. I played on her kindness, I’m afraid.”

“She’s got a good heart.” Killian put the food on one plate. “Want to share my food?” he asked as he took the other chair at the tiny table by the window.

“I thought it was my food,” she answered.

He set the huge plate of eggs between them. “All right, I’ll share this time, but next time you have to help with the cooking if you want to eat.” When she frowned, he added, “Or you could always do the dishes.”

She took a bite. “I don’t know how.”

“Eat up, little princess.” He grinned. “I’ll teach you after we’re finished.”

They talked and planned as they ate the simple food. Neither of them was sure of what to do. Right now she was safe and not under her father’s thumb. That seemed enough. Something inside told Killian that these few days might be all he had with her. The chances of them getting out of the city without getting caught weren’t good, and if Killian went missing too, it wouldn’t take a brain to figure out that they were together. So he’d play his role as August’s friend for a little longer. Maybe in a few days the newspaperman would leave as Chamberlain had.

Wiping a touch of jelly off her cheek, he said, “I won’t leave you alone, Victoria. I promise.”

“I know. Since the day we met I’ve always felt I had a friend. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew if I could get to Fort Worth, you’d help me figure a way out of this mess.”

“We will, together.” He stood.

She laughed suddenly. “We also have Shawn to help. You’re a good friend, but he may be the perfect one. He watches over me and doesn’t eat half my food.”

“I have to get back,” he said as he pulled on his coat. “I have to play the part back at the hotel, but I promise, when I return I’ll bring more food. Do you always eat so much?”

“Only when I’m happy.”

“You’re happy now?” To him, it seemed she was in the biggest mess of her life. He wasn’t sure she meant her words or was simply acting the part she thought she was expected to play. He saw a kaleidoscope of feelings dancing in her eyes. The woman was fascinating, but the person below, deep inside, was the one he longed to know. The woman beneath seemed painted over by a hundred layers of polish.

“I have the promise of being free and that is more than I’ve had in years. I know it’s only a flicker of hope, but it’s more than I ever let myself believe in. I feel excited just thinking about controlling my own life and not having everything I do or say evaluated and reviewed.”

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I should tell you that my father plans to leave the country in a few days. He thought the wedding would cover up some of his activity. That’s why he allowed the wedding to be in Fort Worth. He’s not so well known here. He’s been moving money and supplies for weeks. When he relocates, he wants me with him, willing or not.”

“I figured it was something like that.”

“I’m only a small part of his plan. If he can’t find me, he won’t delay. He’ll go on without me as soon as he gets the rest of his men and all the money he’s been hiding away for years.”

“What about August Myers?”

“I don’t know. Without me on his arm I don’t think he’ll be too important to my father. The major thinks this marriage will give him grandsons . . . almost as good to him as sons. He’s building an empire in South America. It’s been his dream since the war. He thinks he can go back to living like he did years ago in Georgia.”

“How long have you known about this?”

A tear drifted down her cheek. “I’ve heard plotting since he came back from the war, but I saw no part of it as involving me. I thought it was just a dream he had. Something he liked to talk about with his old friends. Only a few months ago when he brought August Myers home, I knew that I too was supposed to play a part. I’d met August a few times. My father asked me what I thought of him and I said that I thought he was good-looking. That seemed to be enough.”

She moved closer to Killian. “Until you came to me on the balcony, I didn’t think I had a choice.”

He held her gently. “What made you change your mind?”

“You kissed me, Killian, and I knew I could never marry August. When August kisses me, I feel nothing but cold, as if I’m touching my lips to a windowpane just before it freezes over.” She smiled as though she were telling a secret. “When you kissed me, I felt a warmth all the way to my toes.”

He held her against his heart, trying to understand how such a woman would turn to him. How could he ever explain to her that he wasn’t saving her, she was saving him?

Finally, he whispered in her ear that she didn’t have to go back, but he wasn’t sure she believed him.

When he pulled away, he asked, “What can I bring you? What do you need?”

She smiled up at him. “Besides you?”

“Besides me.” He kissed her on the nose.

“A nightgown. A book to read. Shawn to watch over me.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be back as soon as I can slip away.”

“And,” she added, “if you get the chance, tell Rose I’m all right.”

“I’ll do that.”

Killian almost ran from the little rooms above the bakery. If he’d stayed a moment longer he would have told her all that was in his heart. He probably would have sworn he loved her and wanted to bed her. He would have frightened her to death.

She’d asked for his help and that was all he’d offer until he knew she was safe. Only then would he tell her just how much she could mean to him.

A few minutes later when he passed Rose McMurray’s room, he tapped on her door unsure how or what he’d tell her.

The maid answered the door, looking like she was bothered by the knock.

“May I speak to Miss Rose?”

The maid frowned. “She’s indisposed at the moment. Perhaps you should try again later.”

“Fine,” Killian managed, and moved away with the strong feeling that the maid had just lied to him.

Chapter 22

Second Avenue

A
be spent a quiet afternoon working on the
books. Though the rain had stopped, the sky was still cloudy. Everyone on the avenue seemed to be moving in slow motion. Miss Norman even let the children out a little early.

About once an hour Abe would walk to the front of the store and look out to see Miss Norman working alone at her desk. Part of him wanted to stand at the door of his place and stare until she looked up and saw him, but he knew he couldn’t. Someone would notice.

It crossed his mind that she’d simply come to him to have her “taste of life and adventure.” He could be that if it was all she wanted. He’d make her blush. He’d make the decisions. Her taste of life might be a lark for her, but to him it would be his one favorite memory until the day he died.

He knew he’d never tell her so. Emotions and feelings weren’t allowed when he was growing up, and when he lay almost dying after the battle, they seemed only a weakness he couldn’t allow himself.

When the evening finally came, he let Henry go home and locked up early. He’d thought he would walk the schoolteacher to her door again tonight; but when he looked at the window she always sat by, the schoolhouse was empty and dark. He’d missed her passing the store. He’d missed his one chance to see her. To speak to her.

As he blew out the lights, he thought of walking over to the boardinghouse and asking to talk to her. But with the mud, he wasn’t sure he could make it without falling. If he did make it to her door, she might not be allowed guests even in the parlor.

He could almost hear his mother’s words snapping in his mind.
You don’t need her, Abe, you don’t need anyone.

Abe moved to the back, an ache for her deep inside him. He’d thought walking her home had been the beginning of something, but he must have been wrong.

He was almost to the back counter when he looked up and saw the light on in his study. A thin beam of light shone high behind the wall of shelves. She’d returned. It didn’t matter why. He’d be her taste of life if that was all she wanted and he’d count himself lucky.

When he opened the door, she was standing next to the mirror combing out her hair for him. She’d hung her coat on the door as he’d told her and she was using the brush he’d left her. For a while he just watched her, thinking of how lovely she looked. People build expensive buildings to house art, but nothing he’d ever seen could compare to Miss Norman combing her hair in the little room at the back of his store.

“I told you not to come,” he said simply as he moved up behind her while he studied her face in the mirror. For a moment she looked worried, but then she saw his smile and smiled back.

“I know,” she whispered. “You said it wasn’t safe, but I was very careful. Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes,” he whispered as he moved against her back. “But not nearly as much as I want you to stay.” He dug his hand into her hair and pulled her mouth to his, needing the taste of her more than air. As he kissed her, his hand brushed over her body. The proper Miss Norman was his, if only for a few minutes.

Abe held her tightly, not letting her turn to face him as he kissed her neck. “I’m starving for you. Do you mind?” His arm moved around her middle. “I like the feel of you against me.”

“No, I don’t mind,” she answered, then let out a little sound of surprise as he gently tasted the side of her neck. His arm tightened just below her breasts and he felt her tremble.

He pulled away. “I don’t want to leave a mark anyone would see. Unbutton your blouse, Sara.”

He could feel her trembling. With shaking hands she opened her collar exposing her throat and the rise of her breasts above her undergarments. She’d done exactly what he’d told her to do.

For a moment he just watched her breathing, then he moved his fingers lightly down the curve of her neck. He touched the soft, pale skin just above her camisole. “I’ll kiss you right here tonight.” She drew in a quick breath and the cotton slipped just a fraction of an inch. Moving his fingers to the rise of her other breast, he added, “And maybe here as well.”

She stood still, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow.

“Do you want this, Sara? Do you want my touch?” She’d come to him, but he had to make sure.

“Yes,” she whispered. “More than anything.”

He smiled and moved close once more. This time he didn’t hesitate as he moved his hand over the cotton camisole. He heard her cry out softly, but he didn’t stop. He felt of her breasts and the valley between them with only one layer of fabric between him and her.

Finally, he pulled away and saw tears sparkling in her eyes as he took her hand. They moved the few steps to the chair and he sat down as he had before, pulling her on top of him. Now the kisses turned tender with longing and his touch featherlight.

From this point on in his life, if anyone should ask him if he believed in miracles, he’d answer yes, for surely Miss Norman wanting him as dearly as he needed her was nothing short of miraculous.

He loved her as she was tonight, covering him with her body, relaxed as he moved his fingers over her. After a while she cuddled against his shoulder as if she’d done so a thousand times.

“I’m not sorry you came,” he whispered, “but I don’t want to talk. We can talk of whatever you want when we walk, but here, in this room, I only want to hold you.”

He tugged her mouth open with his thumb and kissed her fully. When he finally let her breathe, he added, “You’re mine, Sara. In this place there is no other world, no other people. Just me and you.”

“Yes, dear,” she answered as she stretched and kissed his cheek.

“Do that again,” he ordered, loving the way she pressed her body against him while giving him an innocent kiss.

This time when she brushed his cheek, he turned and offered her his mouth. While she kissed him, he lifted her arm and set it on his shoulder. When she finished, she settled back against his chest.

“That was nice.” He moved his hand in long strokes along her arm. For a while, he just held her, thinking what a treasure she was. He’d decided a few years back that his life would never change; he’d live the same days over and over until he died. Then a ghost gave him some advice and his world shifted. There would be no going back. Even if she never slipped into his study again, the memory of her would always be with him.

“Again,” he ordered.

She straightened and kissed his cheek. A moment later, he dug his fingers into her hair and pulled her close as he whispered against her ear. “You’ll do that every time I ask, won’t you?”

His words were harsher than he’d intended, but she answered sweetly, “Yes, dear.”

When she was completely relaxed in his arms, he leaned over her and kissed her long and deep, loving the way she’d learned to silently answer his kiss.

“I don’t want this time to end,” he finally said. “I love holding you like this, touching you, tasting the softness of flesh no one sees.”

When he saw the blush in her face, he realized his words had embarrassed her. “I’ll not speak of it again, dear.”

She nodded and smiled up at him.

“But know,” he added, “that I’ll think of you like you are tonight always.”

When he heard the clock tower chime, he knew their time was up. She pulled away and buttoned her blouse as he watched. She was only two feet from him, yet he could already feel the longing for her growing.

He stood, making himself move as far away from her as the room allowed. “I’ll get my coat and hat. Once you’re dressed we’ll leave out the back. No one will see us. We can walk across to the side entrance to the little café at the Grand. I understand they serve a meal there until ten. We’re having dinner tonight together.”

“Oh no. It’s too expensive.”

He frowned at her. “We’re having dinner there tonight, Miss Norman. Tonight and every Wednesday night from now on.” He wanted to add “for the rest of our lives,” but he didn’t feel like she was ready to hear that yet.

“Yes, dear.” She turned to pin up her hair.

He moved out into the storage room and smiled. He was stepping out with Miss Norman. Now it wouldn’t be long before everyone knew they were courting. The hotel’s café wasn’t fancy, but he’d been there once and knew the food would be good. He’d take her to better places some nights. He could afford them.

Abe frowned. He probably should have asked and not ordered her to dinner. He really didn’t know how to court.

“I’m ready,” she said as she stepped from the study, looking like a very proper Miss Norman.

He stared at her. “You take my breath away, woman.”

She smiled that tight little smile she allowed herself and he saw her blush with pleasure.

Abe picked up the cane he rarely used and they moved silently out of the store. He took her arm for support as they crossed the alley and walked around to the side door. The place was empty except for one waiter and a man reading by the windows.

Abe ordered for them, one plate of each of the two specials. Milk for her and coffee for him. When the waiter delivered the food, he let her choose which plate she wanted. They ate in silence. When the waiter served dessert, Abe said, “Was your food satisfactory, dear?”

“Yes.” She looked down at her hands.

“You’ll tell the boardinghouse you’ll be having dinner with me on Wednesdays from now on?” It might sound like an order, but they both knew it was a question.

“I will if you like.”

“I can think of nothing I’d like more.” He lowered his voice and added, “Well, one thing maybe. The hour before we eat dinner was pleasant.”

She didn’t look up at him. He knew he’d crossed the line between what happened in the study and the real world. They didn’t say another word as they finished. One more thing he didn’t know how to do, he thought, he didn’t know how to talk to a woman.

The rain had started by the time they walked to the front door. Abe ordered the hotel carriage to drive her home. While they waited, they watched the rain from just inside the front door. They laughed at the little streetcar rattling by with one mule pulling it along the line. Now and then the mule would pull the streetcar off the track and all the passengers would have to jump out and lift it back on.

“Looks like the passengers are doing more work than the mule tonight,” Abe whispered.

She covered her mouth, trying not to laugh out loud.

He felt the magic of being in public with someone and still being very much in their own world.

Once they were inside the dark silence of the carriage, he took her hand. He thought of saying he was sorry, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t want to hear it. He thought of telling her how he already ached to hold her again, but she might consider that too bold.

Finally, he decided not to even attempt to make small talk. The boardinghouse was only a few streets away. He didn’t have time to pour out his heart, even if he knew how.

So he just held her hand, savoring the feel of her fingers between his. When the driver stopped, Abe climbed out and helped her down. Then he paid the driver and walked her to the bottom of the steps of her home. “Thank you for tonight,” he managed, well aware that someone might be watching from the windows.

“Thank you for dinner,” she answered.

“Good night, Miss Norman.”

“Good night, Mr. Henderson.”

He steadied himself on his cane and walked slowly away. With the mud and the rain, the street was dangerous for him. With great care he made it across to where the boardwalk started. Each small business was responsible for maintaining the section in front of their store. Some did a better job than others. As he stepped onto the walk in front of the post office he noticed someone had added a railing, making his steps more sure.

When he reached home, Abe sat in the study for a long while reliving every minute of the night. Finally, he closed his eyes, thinking he could still smell the hint of her perfume. He promised himself that if his Miss Norman would just give him time, he’d learn to be kind, to talk softly to her, to love her.

Footsteps from somewhere above the storage room drew him from his dreaming. For a second Abe tensed, then he realized it was only Killian’s lady moving around in the apartment. He thought of calling up the stairs to see if Killian were there. Abe wanted to tell him that he’d eaten out with Miss Norman, but Abe figured O’Toole had his hands full of trouble right now.

Abe relaxed into his chair thinking about how he’d held her hand in the carriage ride home. In a strange way it had been as intimate as what they’d done in the study. He liked holding her hand. It gave his life a balance that had nothing to do with his weak leg.