Valentine's Rose (14 page)

She fingered a loose button on his shirt. “Ah, Val, who’ll look out for you, if not me?”

He fondled loose strands of her hair. Then he dropped his hand. “I wouldn’t volunteer for the job, if I were you.”

His teasing tone couldn’t hide his pain. He couldn’t shield it from her, not anymore, yet he refused to let her in so she could help heal what was hurt inside him. He’d keep pushing her away until he pushed her out of his life.

Desperate, she leaned closer and ran her finger along his smooth jaw. The muscles tightened at her touch. Encouraged by his response, she kissed his chin. “Did you shave this morning so your beard wouldn’t scratch me?”

He went still. His crystal-light eyes glittered with agonized desire. “Don’t tempt me Rose. Let me leave with at least that much of my honor intact.”

The hope she’d nurtured withered further. Soon, it would die. Even so, she couldn’t keep it alive by manipulating him. She took a step back and smoothed her skirts on a steadying breath. “Aye, you’re right. I want to be with you, Val, but I want it to be what you want as well. It’s sorry, I am, for tempting you.”

“Rose, I do want...” He stepped closer, but stopped short of touching her. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman. The reasons I can’t be with you are due to my sins, not yours.”

“Love covers a multitude of sins.” The phrase she’d heard her mother recite popped into her head and out of her mouth. She hadn’t understood it—until now. “I know sins can’t be ignored, Val, but they can be set aside. Covered up. You don’t have to go back to them or let them get in the way of living. You just have to be willing to let love do its work.”

He blinked down at her, seeming startled by what she’d said, but then he turned away and began to unhitch the mule like he hadn’t heard or didn’t care. If he’d stop hating himself for just a minute, he might see that he didn’t have to keep piling on the punishment.

She curled her hands into fists, tempted to pound on him, or as her Da would say, knock some sense into him. “Did you hear me?
I love you
, Val. I don’t care what you’ve done. If you haven’t asked for forgiveness, go to confession. Say you’re sorry. That’s all you have to do. It’s all you
can
do. Going back and trying to make up for the past won’t change anything.”

He turned, his face stripped of defenses—his pain, his agony, his shame, all there for her to see. “Don’t love me, Rose. Don’t make that mistake. I’m not the kind of man you can depend on. Even if I don’t fail you now, at some point I will. It’s what I do. I disappoint people and let them down. I hurt them.
That’s
why I have to leave.”

***

V
al took the quickest escape route, a trip to the creek under the pretense of washing up. He had to get away in order to regain his composure before he gave in to this desperate need to hold Rose...and keep holding her.

He dropped to his knees in the sandy gravel by the creek, took his shirt off and cupped water in his hands, splashing his face, his head and neck. He’d been sweating from working the drill, but that wasn’t why he was burning up.

Rose had so much kindness and goodness stored up in her heart, the very things he didn’t have and yet craved. She drew him like the inexorable attraction of a flower to a bee. He couldn’t resist her before, and now she offered him the ultimate temptation.

Love.

No matter how desperately he wanted it, he couldn’t take it.

The burning spread up his throat and into his eyes. A drop of water rolled off the end of his nose and splashed into the creek, and then another. He splashed the cool water on his face and mopped it with his sleeve.

He’d let her down, just as he’d let everyone down. The very fact that he’d married her proved he was selfish as well as rash. He destroyed the lives he touched. She couldn’t see that because her infatuation blinded her. By the time she saw the true man it would be too late.

You have to be willing to let love do its work.

Val stared at his shimmering reflection in the water. He’d tried to change, and it hadn’t worked. He’d never thought about love being able to change him, didn’t have enough experience with it to know whether such a thing could be possible. He couldn’t think of anyone who’d offered him love after he hurt them. That’s what Rose had done.

Love covers a multitude of sins.

Dear God, he wanted to believe it was true, but he feared trusting something he didn’t understand, an ephemeral emotion, a dream that had eluded him all his life. But if he didn’t take the chance, he would never know if she was right.

***

W
hile Val escaped to the creek, ostensibly to wash up for dinner, Rose sought refuge in the shanty. She stood inside, hugging her arms, struggling to hold back tears. She’d been grief-stricken and in soul-deep pain after losing the last of her family. Still, she hadn’t felt this hopeless.

She had done everything she knew to do, offered Val everything she had. If that wasn’t enough, if he couldn’t accept her love and love her in return, she had to let go and release him.

An unbearable ache welled in her chest and forced out a harsh sob. She fought to hold back the flood. No more crying, not now. Tears wouldn’t help either of them. Keeping busy, though, would keep her mind off the inevitable.

Rose rummaged through the boxes, looking for bowls or something to hold soup. All she could come up with were two tin cups. They would have to do. The man who’d previously lived here must’ve taken most of his belongings, and Val hadn’t thought he would be here long. Now that he’d found the coal, he’d want to sell out and leave as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure he would go to England right away, but he’d made it clear he would leave her. 

She bit her lip at the pain that speared her chest. Now she understood why some people claimed they were dying from a broken heart. There was physical pain involved, as well as mental and emotional anguish. Hurt seeped through every pore.

A high-pitched whinny came from outside. Val had hobbled the horse out in the field, but that sounded close. Had the creature escaped, or was Val hitching it up to leave? He wouldn’t abandon her, no matter how angry or upset he might be.

Rose turned just as a shadow fell across the threshold. Her heart leapt into her throat.

Not Val. Jarvis. And he had a gun pointed at her. Fear such as she’d never felt send a cold wave over her skin.

“Well, well...if it ain’t the long drink of water. You come out here for a poke, beanpole?”  His knowing smirk made her skin crawl.

The unwavering gun preceded him inside, his eyes never leaving her. “Where’s your man?”

She considered throwing the cups at him, breaking and running for the wagon to see if Val had left his gun.

Jarvis drew back the hammer with a click. “Don’t even think about tryin’ anything.”

The evil man was a mind reader, or her face had given her away. She fought to school her features like Val could do when he didn’t want anyone to know what he was thinking. Her pulse rushed in her ears, so loud she was sure Jarvis could hear it.

She had to distract him, delay him while she listened for Val, and then figure out a way to warn her husband. “It’s not very gentlemanly to hold a gun on a lady.”

He snorted. “You ain’t a lady...and I ain’t a gentleman.”

“I am a lady, but I agree you are no gentleman.” Rose squared her shoulders and held his disdainful gaze. Her father’s words came back to her.

Bullies are cowards, Rose. They’ll bluster and try to scare you, but you look ‘em in the eye like you’ll take no guff, and they’ll back down.

Jarvis sneered. “Don’t get uppity on me, bitch. I asked you a question. Where’s your man?”

“He’s gone.”

“He ain’t gone far. I seen the horse...and the coal.” Jarvis’s eyes glittered with greed. “Remind me to thank him for doin’ the work. Makes it easier for me to get the reward.”

So, he planned to murder Val and thought he could somehow take back the land.

Rose’s skin heated with fury. Good, hot anger was better than cold terror. She gripped the cups. They were probably useless, but at the moment they were the only weapons she had, other than her hands and feet. “The only reward you’ll get is waiting for you in hell.”

He moved so fast that in the blink of an eye he’d grabbed her by the hair. Gasping, she opened her hands to fight him off and dropped the tin cups. With a jerk, he dragged her head down, pressing the barrel of the gun to her forehead. “Tell me where he is!”

Her stomach heaved. Had she eaten anything, it would’ve come up. As it was, her mouth filled with a bitter, coppery taste. She stammered the only thing she could think of. “He-he’s gone to retrieve his hat. I don’t know where he left it.”

Jarvis made a grunt that sounded like displeasure. His nostrils flared and his sparse mustache twitched, reminding her of a sewer rat sniffing the air for food...or danger. Looking into his dark eyes was like looking into the eyes of one of those foul creatures. His tight grip on her hair pulled at her scalp and hurt, but she didn’t dare move for fear he’d pull the trigger.

Her skin grew chilled and damp. “Please, let go of my hair.”

He twisted his hold tighter. “Where’s the deed?”

“I don’t know.” That truth came out easily.

With surprising strength, he hauled her to the table and slammed her head down.

Her forehead struck the surface and pain splintered behind her eyes. She cried out, scrabbling for something to hold onto as her vision blurred. Her fingers found the table edge and she clung to it, dizzy, legs trembling.

When she’d been little, she would close her eyes so the monsters couldn’t see her. This monster wouldn’t go away, and shutting everything out left Val with no one to help him. She turned her face toward the door, blinking at the light, forcing her mind to focus. Thoughts darted through her head like startled rabbits. She couldn’t follow any of them.

“Rose!” Val’s frantic yell pierced the veil of terror. Her mind captured a frantic thought. That was Jarvis’s plan, to bring Val to her so he could shoot him.

She screamed out a warning. “Gun!”

“Shut up!” The hard barrel pressed into her temple and her captor’s fetid breath blew hot against her cheek. “Make another sound, or so much as twitch that ass, and I’ll plant a bullet through your brain.”

Rose struggled to breathe past the fear clamping her throat closed. She couldn’t let Val walk into a trap. This man clearly planned to kill him, and her, as well. If one of them had to die, she would rather it be her. Though if that happened, Val would take on more guilt and self-hatred.

Something appeared in the doorway—a shadow, a flash of white.

Jarvis jerked the gun from her head, the explosion made her ears rings, and acrid smoke filled her nostrils. She choked on it.

Her heart ceased beating. No! He’d shot Val. No, no, no...

Mad with grief, she twisted around clawing at the devil, not caring if she lived or died.

Jarvis swore as her nails found his face and left four fiery trails across his cheek. He pulled the gun back, and the click of the hammer resounded.

Then he was gone, as something streaking into the room barreled into him.

Jarvis’s gun went off with a loud crack, a flash and more smoke. But nothing slowed down his shirtless attacker, who carried him into the wall of crates with a crash.

Cans flew into the air.

Dizzy, Rose braced her arms, using the table to support her. For a moment it looked like there were four men grappling for control of the gun. She stared, dazed and disbelieving.

Val had survived, and he’d come for her with a vengeance.

She tried to stand so she could go to him, help him, but her legs had turned into noodles.

Jarvis, flat on his back, flailing like a roach, slammed the gun up against Val’s head. Val lurched to one side. Jarvis didn’t get the chance to do it again because Val grabbed his wrist and twisted violently. With a screech, Jarvis dropped the weapon.

Val came to his feet, swaying. Regaining his balance, he dragged Jarvis up, out of the broken crates and cans, and delivered a walloping punch that made a sickening sound, like bone crunching. 

Jarvis crumpled to the floor.

Val hunched over him, hands fisted, his back and shoulders moving as his breathing came in harsh rasps. He nudged the man on the floor with the toe of his boot. Jarvis didn’t move. Val bent down and scooped up the gun, curled his fingers around the handle and trigger and studied it, as if considering using it. He tucked it into the back of his waistband.

Rose released a pent-up breath. She cried out his name, stiffened her legs and wobbled into his arms. He caught her just before she collapsed. Lifting her, he carried her to the bed and knelt beside her, his beloved face hovering over her, taut with concern.

He gently pulled at strands of hair stuck to her throbbing forehead. “You’re bleeding...” His voice dipped low with emotion. “I should’ve been here.”

“I’m glad you weren’t.” She glanced over at the unconscious man and began trembling. “He...he was looking for the deed. He wanted to kill you.”

“I heard you cry out.” Anguish darkened his eyes. “And your warning about the gun. I put my shirt on the broomstick to give him something to shoot at. Thought if he fired, I’ve have a chance to catch him off guard.”

Her husband’s quick thinking had saved both their lives. Recalling the moment she’d thought he was dead brought on a rush of scalding tears. Lifting her hand, she lightly touched the side of his head where he’d been hit with the gun. He winced. “You’re hurt,” she choked out.

Val grasped her hand. “I’m fine. But you need to see a doctor. Give me a second to tie up this rat, then I’ll take you into town.”

Rose darted a fearful look at their attacker. Had he moved? It didn’t look like it, but her mind formed a terrifying image of Jarvis rising up and attacking them again. Like a frightened child, she clung to Val’s hand. “Don’t leave me.”

He brought the back of her hand to his lips in a fervent kiss. “Never.”

––––––––

A
week later...