Give My Love to Rose (17 page)

Marston backed out of the room and nearly
fulfilled his promise but couldn’t stop himself from sneaking the
tiniest of peeks. He knew her back would be to him from here and
she would never know….

Marston opened his eyes and the sight he was
met with filled him with an all-consuming, indescribable rage.

Scars marred her beautiful pale skin.
Horrible, raised scars. Long, thin scars. Scars that Marston would
recognize anywhere since he was covered in a few himself. Someone
had beaten his Rose with a whip.

Marston took several slow, steadying
breaths, reminding himself that he wasn’t supposed to have seen
them. “Just holler for me when you’re done,” he said and he heard
her murmur in agreement.

Marston stepped out of the room and closed
the door before pacing the cabin like a caged animal. What in the
hell had happened to that woman? Marston would find out one day.
One day she would trust him enough to tell him and Marston would
see that whoever was responsible paid with their life.

For now, he busied himself by stripping the
soiled sheets and pillowcases from Rose’s bed and replacing them
with clean ones.

Chapter Fifteen

Nightmares had Rose gasping for breath as
she shot upright in bed. She ran her hand over her sweaty curls and
pulled her blanket tighter around her, clutching it in her
fingers.

Tonight the nightmares had been her time
spent in that wagon. Her adoptive father had started up his own sex
slave business and he had kept her and several more daughters
prisoner inside and sold their time and their bodies for whatever
money he could get. She had dreamt of the night that he himself had
raped her…The night that Langley had been conceived. She knew that
had been the night because it had been the only night that month
that she had been raped.

Her adoptive father had beaten her face so
badly after that she’d been unwanted by the men who showed up and
three weeks after the rape, Langston had come and paid nearly one
hundred dollars to take her away and have her as his own.

Her adoptive father had been all too happy
to let her go for that small fortune.

Rose shivered and slowly got to her feet,
her weak legs protesting the movement. She shuffled across the room
using the furniture for support and took her robe from the hook by
the door. After sliding into it, Rose went into the kitchen, lit
the lamp and laid her head against the cabinets to try to force the
memories away.

“
You okay?”

Marston’s voice caused her to open her eyes
and turn quickly. He was lying on that sofa that was several feet
too small for him and his golden eyes were watching her closely.
Rose hadn’t realized he’d been sleeping inside….

“
I didn’t mean to disturb
you,” she apologized.

Marston shrugged, but he didn’t get up. “You
didn’t. Bad dreams again?”

Rose poured a glass of water and took a
shaky sip. “Yes.”

“
You want to talk about
them?”

“
No,” she quickly snapped
and then she saw his hurt and she sighed. “Not yet.”

“
You need to go rest,
Rose,” Marston insisted.

Rose knew he was right. She took one last
sip of water and placed her glass on the counter. She turned toward
her bedroom, but her weak legs had finally done all they could and
they gave out beneath her. She prepared herself for the fall she
knew she was going to take and nearly cried out with shock when
instead she found herself once again lifted into Marston’s arms and
cradled against his chest.

“
How did you move so
fast?” she gasped.

He laughed lightly. “I’ve been told I’m part
Indian. Maybe that has something to do with it.”

As he carried her to her bed, Rose marveled
at the fact that being held by Marston this way didn’t frighten
her. For some reason, her fear of being touched disappeared when it
was Marston doing the touching.

She found herself placed gently upon her bed
and her covers were pulled up to her chin before her hair was
smoothed from her face. “I’ve never been tucked into bed,” Rose
admitted.

She saw Marston’s throat work as he
swallowed hard. “I’ve never tucked anyone into bed.”

“
You do a good job,” she
assured him as he made sure the blanket was snug around her. Rose
could definitely see herself getting used to being pampered this
way.

Marston smiled. “I’m glad you think so.” He
wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but he could see the
uncertainty in her blue eyes. It was hard for Marston to deny urges
that he’d never once in his life bothered to deny before but
somehow he forced himself to settle for pressing a light kiss to
her soft cheek.

Marston heard her gasp and her eyes were
shining as he pulled away. “Should I not have done that?” he asked
uncertainly. He wished he could be more sure of himself, but he was
in completely unchartered territory just now.

“
You should have done
that,” Rose assured him, color staining her cheeks. She rubbed her
fingers over the place his lips had touched and he
frowned.

“
What’s wrong?”

She shrugged, clearly embarrassed. “Your…
your beard is scratchy.”

Marston chuckled. “Maybe your skin is just
too soft.”

Rose smiled so bright it took Marston’s
breath. “You could be right.”

“
Get some sleep,” he urged
as he stood straight. “If you have any more of those dreams, don’t
try to get up. Just call my name and I’ll come.”

Rose was awestruck as he left the room. She
had never once imagined a man could be like Marston. He was a
completely different man than he had been that September night when
he had treated her so cold and ridden off in the night. Rose prayed
that he truly meant it when he said he wanted to stay with them—she
wasn’t sure how she would pick herself back up if he left
again.

She knew that she still needed to tell him
about the banker, but she hadn’t wanted to ruin the day—she’d been
enjoying this new side of him too much. She would tell him
tomorrow.

Rose curled up under the covers and smiled.
Marston awoke something inside of her that Rose had never felt
before. She felt a desire for him that was strong and shocking—and
he filled her heart with a love for him so strong that it scared
her. Rose realized with clarity that she did indeed love
Marston—she loved him with everything she had.

***

Marston grabbed the lamp that Rose had lit
in the kitchen and carried it into the water closet. He ran his
hand over the thick beard he’d had for as long as he could
remember. He wasn’t attached to it, necessarily. He’d simply grown
it to cover the circular scar on his cheek that he’d gotten when
the headmaster at the orphanage had put his lit cigar out on
Marston’s face—that had been the last time Marston had ever tried
to give his blankets to someone smaller and colder than
himself.

Duke had insisted that Marston cover the
scar before they began to work because scars were too identifiable.
No one he had met since leaving that orphanage even knew that
Marston had the scar and there was no mention of it on any wanted
poster. Hell, Marston wasn’t even sure he was wanted any
longer.

The poster that had his name had been issued
nearly ten years ago and they were a scribbled face with no name
and a five hundred dollar bounty. Since then Marston had dined with
sheriffs, deputies, marshals and even several Pinkertons.

Marston was no longer on their radar. They
had bigger and badder outlaws to hunt down. A man who robbed but
only killed in self-defense, one who threatened but very rarely
harmed, and one who had his fun with paid for women instead of
unwilling ones simply wasn’t high on their priority list.

Yeah, it was time for Marston to lose the
beard. His days of roaming and breaking laws were over. And if his
beard bothered Rose and was going to interfere with kissing than
Marston would be glad to see the thing gone.

He lathered up his face and grabbed his
knife.

***

“
Wow Marston! You look
different!” Langley exclaimed as he came out of his room the next
morning and Marston tossed a plate of eggs onto the
table.

“
Eat up, kid. Then you
gotta go feed the critters.”

Langley nodded. “You eat yet?” he asked.

Marston shook his head. “Not yet. I was
gonna go get your mama.”

Langley sat down his fork. “I’ll wait then.
It’s been a while since we’ve said Grace and I think mama will want
to say it with me… if it still makes your stomach hurt you can plug
your ears.”

Marston raised his brow. “I’m pretty sure
that was disrespectful, but I’ll let it go since you’re going to
muck out the stalls today too.”

Langley hung his head and kicked the table
leg. “Yessir.” Marston was chuckling as he sat two more plates of
eggs on the table. Langley picked at his with his fork. “These eggs
are runny.”

“
The chicken coop could
stand to be cleaned out too.”

Langley shook his head and smiled in
earnest. “These eggs look plumb delicious!” he exclaimed far too
brightly.

Marston wanted to be stern but the damn boy
was too much and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “I’ll be
right back,” Marston said with a shake of his head.

He walked into Rose’s bedroom and paused.
She was sleeping peacefully and her red hair spilled across the
pillows. Her full lips were parted slightly as she snored quietly.
Marston wished he could take a picture of this moment so he could
carry the image with him.

He stepped to the bed and knelt beside it.
He hated to wake her, but she needed food to help rebuild her
strength. “Rose? Rose, you gotta wake up,” he urged gently.

Her eyes fluttered open and then she let out
a scream and jumped away from him. Marston nearly fell over
backward with fear as he spun and searched for what could have
scared her. “What the hell is your problem, woman?” he demanded,
turning to face her once more.

“
Marston….? It’s you,” she
gasped.

Marston feared for her sanity. “Yeah, it’s
me. Who the hell did you think was in your damn bedroom?”

Rose tilted her head as she studied him.
“You shaved your face.”

Marston nodded as he ran his hand over his
smooth jaw. “Yeah and my face is damn cold too.”

Rose smiled but could scarcely breathe. The
man was more handsome than she could have imagined. He was all hard
lines and sharp angles. His lips were full but firm and his
cheekbones were high. She could certainly see why people thought he
may have Indian blood in him.

Marston smiled and the line around his eyes
deepened while lines she hadn’t realized he had in his cheeks,
crinkled around his mouth. Rose would have swooned if she were that
type of woman “You okay?” he asked.

“
Just fine,” she replied,
sitting up.

Marston nodded and stood straight. “I have
some breakfast ready and the kid is waiting until you come out to
eat because he said you all need to say Grace. Do you need help
getting dressed?”

“
No, I can
manage.”

Rose found herself left alone and she stood
slowly. She hated this weakness but comforted herself with the
knowledge that it would pass soon. Rose pulled a blue gingham dress
from her wardrobe that had long sleeves and a modest neckline. Once
dressed, she placed her brown belt around her waist to emphasize
her curves a bit. She had to show Marston that she wasn’t a
complete loss now that he was so devilishly handsome.

She slid on her ankle boots and secured her
hair away from her face while still allowing it to hang in long
curls down her back. All of this took ten minutes and Rose was near
collapse by the time she finished.

She opened her bedroom door and Marston was
to her in an instant, clearly reading the fatigue on her face. He
helped her to the table, pulled out her seat and then pushed it
back in once he was seated. He took his own seat across the table
from her and Rose blushed when she felt his eyes roam over her
body.

“
Are we ready for Grace
now?” Langley demanded impatiently. “Because I’m so hungry that
even these runny eggs are starting to look real good.”

“
Langley!” Rose snapped,
but Marston just smiled.

“
Go ahead and say your
Grace, kid,” he urged, giving Rose a look that clearly meant to let
it go. She wondered just how closed her son and Marston had gotten
while she’d been ill as Marston winked Langley’s way and the boy
laughed.

***

“
Marston, I can wash
clothes,” Rose argued stubbornly later that day as Marston put away
the breakfast dishes that he had insisted on washing.

“
No, you can stay here on
the sofa next to the fire where it’s warm. If you have to do
something you can sew.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “I need fresh
air.”

Marston nodded. “Fine. I’ll open the
shutters so you can have a breeze now that’s warmed up a bit
outside.”

Rose sensed he was trying real hard to
compromise, but it simply wasn’t enough. “Marston, I am a
twenty-seven-year-old grown woman who is more than accustomed to
taking care of herself. I don’t need to be ordered around!”

“
Rose, I don’t know how
old I am exactly but do know it’s at least a few years older than
you and I say that you’re staying in here where it’s
warm.”

Rose paused… “You don’t know how old you
are?”

Marston shook his head. “My mother was a
whore and birthdays just weren’t important.” He crossed his arms
over his chest. “Now stop trying to change the subject and tell me
you’re going to behave.”