Heartstrings (48 page)

He looked closer. The diamond wasn’t a diamond.

A tear pooled on the ruby. His tear, and then he watched another fall. And another, and soon the ruby was wet with the spill of his emotions.

Deep emotion. Affection.

…
one is supposed to feel a tug at the heart when so touched.

Roman closed his fingers over the wet ruby. The pin stuck his palm, and as his tears seeped into the wound, he realized with startling clarity the name of the feeling he harbored for Theodosia.

He stood transfixed, gazing into the softly lit heavens. His ranch materialized within the early morning clouds. He saw his horses running through fields. He’d carried the image in his mind for ten long years, and he knew it by heart.

It faded right before his eyes, and in its place a woman’s face floated into the mellow sky. Her lips moved as she whispered to him.

When you truly love someone, Roman, no sacrifice is too great to make.

The heart-shaped ruby clutched in his hand, Roman mounted.

He followed the pull in his heart.

The tug on his heartstrings.

He headed west, toward Templeton. He needed money. All the money he had.

Senor Madrigal would have to find another buyer for the twenty-five thousand acres of Rio Grande grassland.

Roman was going to Boston.

From there, he reckoned he’d set sail for Brazil.

T
he man and woman chattered
endlessly. Luby and Pinky Scrully were their names, and Theodosia sat between them as Luby directed the ox-driven wagon down the mulberry-tree-edged road.

She had just sold her ruby brooch to the owner of the Willow Patch mercantile when Luby Scrully entered the store, announced that he was passing through town, and ordered supplies for his trip. She hadn’t cared where the man was headed; when she heard him say he was passing through Willow Patch, the only thing she cared about was leaving with him.

The Scrullys had been more than willing to have her along on their journey to Gull Sky and had refused to accept the money she’d tried to offer them.

They’d been traveling for two days now, and Roman had not found them. He wouldn’t. No one in Willow Patch knew she’d left with the Scrullys, so no one in Willow Patch could tell Roman where she’d gone.

She hugged John the Baptist’s cage to her breasts, and as the wagon rumbled along, she watched red, yellow, and orange leaves fall from the trees and flutter to the ground.

“Yeah, Theodosia, honey,” Pinky said, patting Theodosia’s arm, “me and Luby’s on our way fer a visit with our son, Gilly. Don’t ’spect we’ll enjoy the visit much, though, what with his wife there.”

Luby threw his wife a sidelong frown. “You’re jealous, Pinky, and that’s the truth of it. It pains you somethin’ awful to know Gilly loves another woman ’sides you.”

Pinky laughed. “I reckon you’re right, Luby. I’ll git along with that wife o’ his as best as I can, but Lord how I long fer them days when Gilly was jest a young’un. ’Member how happy we was then, Luby?”

Luby nodded. “Time goes on, though, Pinky. Least we still got each other. Be worser if one of us was dead.”

“Speakin’ o’ the dead,” Pinky said, “I heared tell that four men in the Blanco y Negro Gang’s done meeted up with the only knowed cure fer birth. Yeah, dead’s what they are, and I heared it said right in the street back in Wilier Patch. Don’t nobody know who killed ’em, but they was shore killed and dead. Where you headin’, anyway, Theodosia, honey? Y’ain’t said more’n a handful o’ words in two days’ time. Me? Well, I’ve been curious as all git out about you, but I been mindin’ my manners and keepin’ quiet. Cain’t keep quiet no more, though. Where you headin’?”

Lost in the memory of the day Roman had saved her from the notorious gang, it was a moment before Theodosia could answer. “Boston,” she murmured.

Pinky nodded. “That’s a place on the Missersipper River, ain’t it? Yeah, me and Luby was there ’bout two years past. S’where Luby buyed me a new kitchen knife. I busted the ole one when I throwed it at a rattler that slithered itsef into the house. Didn’t hit the rattler. Hit the stove. Knife broke, and the rattler bit my leg.”

A fresh wave of nostalgia sucked Theodosia into deeper grief as she recalled the day Roman had caught a rattlesnake with his bare hands. That had been the day he’d made her eat baby hotcakes. “And play in the mud,” she whispered.

“What was that, honey?” Pinky asked.

“Nothing,” Theodosia replied. “Nothing.” Feeling tears fill her eyes, she pretended to sneeze into her hands. Her action squeezed the tears onto her fingers. They slid down her palm and disappeared beneath her sleeves.

“Bless you,” Pinky said. She hiked her patched skirts up to her knees, pushed down her sock, and pointed to two fang marks on her plump calf. “Look here at where the rattler bit me, Theodosia. I didn’t die, though. What I done to save my own life, y’see, was I drank a whole bottle o’ whiskey jest as soon as that snake let go o’ me. Don’t rightly know what it is about bein’ likkered up, but somehow a body full o’ likker ain’t bothered none a’tall by a little bit o’ snake poison. Luby says he can drink more likker’n I can, but he ain’t nothin’ but a liar.”

Country chatter, Theodosia thought, remembering the morning Roman had taught her to imitate Oble Smott’s chatter. That had been the day after they’d made love for the first time. And when Oble had gone, they’d made love again.

She closed her eyes and felt sunrays beam onto her eyelids. A swirl of colors floated through the darkness, and in the midst of the colors Roman appeared. She saw his brilliant blue eyes, crooked grin, and long charcoal hair. His scent came to her; sunshine, wind, leather, and the musky smell of hard-worked muscles.

“See the marks, Theodosia?” Pinky pressed.

Opening her eyes, Theodosia looked at the marks. “Yes, I see them, Mrs. Scrully.”

Luby glanced at his wife’s snake fang scars, too, and scratched the gray grizzle on his chin. “Pinky, what in the world? Theodosia don’t wanna see your fat leg. And you’re thinkin’ o’ the time we was in
Tosten,
not Boston. Boston ain’t on the Missersipper River, and neither’s Tosten, fer that matter. Boston’s in Massertuchetts, and Tosten’s up in the Oklerhomer Terr’tory.” He looked at Theodosia. “You’re a long way from Boston, darlin’. How you gonna git there?”

Theodosia felt one swift tear escape down her cheek and reached up to wipe it away before the Scrullys saw it. How
was
she going to get all the way to Boston? She only had thirty-five dollars. The mercantile owner in Willow Patch had refused to pay a penny more for the ruby brooch. She knew the fine piece of jewelry was worth much more, but as terrified as she’d been of the possibility that Roman would find her before she left Willow Patch, she’d accepted the measly amount of money and given the store proprietor her most treasured possession.

“Theodosia, honey, you all right?” Pinky asked, spotting the wet sparkle in Theodosia’s eyes.

“There now, darlin’, don’t you go to frettin’, hear?” Luby said. “We’ll be in Gull Sky tomorrer. From there, you can git you a seat on a stage that’ll take you to Oates’ Junction. Trains run through Oates’ Junction, and I ’spect one of ’em might head toward Boston.”

Theodosia turned her head sharply toward him and peered intensely into his bleary gray eyes. “Oates’ Junction,” she whispered. “How far away is Templeton from where we are right now?”

Luby rubbed his chin grizzle again. “Templeton, y’say? Well, it’s just a holler away, darlin’.”

“A holler? How much distance is a holler?” Luby pointed ahead. “See the other road that turns off the one we’re on now?”

Theodosia saw the small dirt road that veered to the right.

“Down that road a piece is Templeton.”

“A piece?” Theodosia asked, thoroughly bewildered. “Mr. Scrully, I’m afraid I do not know the distance of
a
piece,
either.”

“Well, darlin’, in the case o’ Templeton, both a holler and a piece’d mean about ten miles. You know somebody in Templeton?”

“Dr. Wallaby,” she murmured. Was it possible that the scientist was still in Templeton?

She doubted it. Months had passed since she’d last seen him. His research funds had more than likely arrived from New England, and at this very moment he was probably deep within the Brazilian jungles.

Still, the slim chance that he might yet remain in Templeton was a chance she was going to take. If he was there, she’d stay with him until Lillian and Upton sent her enough money to get back to Boston. “Mr. Scrully, would you mind—”

“Takin’ you to Templeton?” he finished for her. “Be my pleasure, darlin’.” He turned the wagon onto the side road.

Dusk fell quietly. Soon a crisp evening breeze swayed through the air, carrying the faint sound of lively music. Before long, Luby drove past a small country fair. Watching the goings-on, Theodosia thought of children bobbing for apples. She pondered displays of country crafts, squealing livestock, the Father of Pie, and game booths.

She remembered Roman and wondered if there was anything in the world that wouldn’t somehow remind her of him.

“Well, here we are, darlin’,” Luby said as he urged his ox down the main street of Templeton. “Where to now?”

Theodosia directed him to the house that Dr. Wallaby had rented at the end of the street and bade him stop before the small cottage. Her parrot’s cage in one hand, her bag of belongings in the other, she stepped over Pinky’s legs and climbed out of the wagon. “Thank you ever so much, Mr. and Mrs. Scrully,” she said, managing a smile.

“Don’t you want us to wait and see if you git inside all right, Theodosia?” Pinky asked.

Unwilling to bother the kindly couple any further, Theodosia shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well, you take care, then, darlin’,” Luby said.

She waved to them until their wagon reached the end of the street, then turned toward the house. Hoping with all her heart that she would find Dr. Wallaby inside, she walked to the door, set her possessions on the ground, and knocked.

The door opened slowly.

Theodosia felt as though she were peering into a mirror.

“Lillian?” she whispered.

In the next moment she found herself in her sister’s loving arms.

Chapter Nineteen

“T
heodosia,” Lillian murmured, holding Theodosia
tightly. “Oh, my sweet little sister, you’ve no notion how happy I am at this moment.”

The familiar scent of lemon verbena and love flowing around her, Theodosia took great comfort in her older sister’s embrace. She sighed with exhaustion and with relief, then blew a kiss to Upton, who stood behind Lillian.

“Lillian, if you do not mind,” Upton said, tapping Lillian’s arm. When she moved away, he too embraced Theodosia. “We have missed you, my dear. Missed you terribly.”

“As I have you,” Theodosia whispered, deeply soothed by Upton’s loving hug.

He released her, smiled into her big brown eyes, and cupped her cheeks. “I suppose you are wondering why we are here?”

“We came to wait for you,” Lillian explained. She took Theodosia’s hand and led her into the house.

The same sparse furnishings remained in the front room, Theodosia noted, but gone were the books, microscopes, and other scientific equipment.

“He’s gone,” Lillian announced when she saw Theodosia looking around the room. “That’s why we’re here. We received a letter from Dr. Wallaby a little over two months ago. His research funding had arrived, and he was about to set sail for Brazil. He said you would be returning to Templeton as soon as you had concluded your studies of southern speech and that he regretted not being here when you arrived. His letter ended with his assurance that he would eagerly await you in Brazil.”

Upton brought Theodosia’s things into the house and shut the door. “The thought of you returning to Templeton and finding this house empty disturbed us, especially since we had no way of knowing if your escort, Roman Montana, would remain with you. Your letters and wires arrived regularly for a period of time but then became few and far between. Out of worry, we decided to come and wait for you here.”

Guilt seized Theodosia. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked. “But Roman and I—we—there were long stretches of time when we were not near any towns. I could not write—”

“Don’t trouble yourself a moment longer,” Lillian scolded gently. “The important thing is that you are safe and with us again.” Impulsively, she gave Theodosia another hug. “Besides, we only arrived two weeks ago and have not been waiting for you so very long, darling.”

John the Baptist squawked loudly. “If it weren’t for nightgowns gittin’ pulled up and seed gittin’ spilt, there wouldn’t be no people in the world,” he said.

Theodosia stifled a gasp.

“Why’s a Yankee bird singing the Confederate anthem, anyway?” the parrot continued. “Tark, y’see, is Krat spelled back’ards.”