Rose knew exactly how Daisy felt as the little body stretched out with an angry cry. The baby wasn’t hungry, but like Rose, she was tired of the travel and the fuss it had taken to reach Denver. Rose had almost gone straight to Tall Pine, but if she and Daisy didn’t have a warm bath and a feather bed soon, they might both melt into a puddle of tears.
“I know, I know,” Rose picked up the baby, nestling her against the silk robe. “The bath is almost ready.” She was suddenly very grateful for the advanced plumbing of the hotel. Usually a maid would be called to help, but Rose had faced enough scrutiny with being a single woman on a train with a little dark girl.
Rose’s soft touch and the warm water was just what Daisy needed. Instantly she calmed, and afterwards she greedily sucked on a bottle. Rose, however, was still feeling restless despite the fatigue of travel. Of course, being on a crowded train would do that. She had planned on ordering room service once Daisy was asleep, but the child’s eyes were wide and bright and defied the fact that it was her bedtime.
“I don’t think it would be wise to dine publicly, Daisy.” Rose sighed and placed the baby on the bed. Lying beside her, she held a small toy in front of Daisy and then with a skillful flick of the wrist, she made it disappear and reappear. She used to love doing magic tricks as a young girl, and Daisy seemed to find them very amusing. “Did you see on the train what the newspapers say?” she could not help but laugh.
No doubt the policeman who had escorted her to Cade’s cell had sold his story to the papers. Though instead of relaying the truth, it had been printed that Cade had kicked out Rose for being unfaithful to him. Rose now had a child—a colored child. Those who knew Rose would know that was not true. She had never been pregnant. Though the reporters justified her invisible pregnancy by writing that she had “disappeared for some time” to hide the pregnancy.
“Scandal,” Rose breathed, fighting the ache in her chest. She knew what she was doing was right. She knew God had been with her during her years of heartache. Though even with that faith, she still fought off bitterness and self-pity: the two things that had prohibited her from growing and moving on in her life. A scripture came to her mind evoking a memory Pastor Will had quoted from Psalms, saying that those who the Lord loved he chastened.
A wry smile tugged on Rose’s full lips. “If that is the case, Lord,” she sighed and sat up, “then please love me less.” She did not mean it. Maybe a few years back she had, but now she knew that handing God an agenda for one’s life was not real faith, nor was it real happiness.
Daisy cooed and began kicking the bed sheets. Rose laughed and scooped her up. “You know something, Daisy, your new grandmother adores a good scandal, and it seems that everybody else does, too. Why don’t we do them a service and add to it, shall we? I could use some anger and righteous indignation to distract me.”
As if agreeing with her, the dimples on Daisy’s round cheeks deepened with a grin. Rose swung her around and went to the small closet where she’d hung up her traveling dresses, as well as a blue one that she had brought just in case. Her mother always said, no matter where one went, one should always have one nice dress and one pair of nice gloves should occasion call for it. She was glad for that advice, as it seemed occasion had called for it tonight.
The dress was a robin’s egg blue with lace trimming and a daring square neck. Rose wondered if it would still fit. She’d lost weight since she’d left Cade and had been forced to purchase a new corset to fit her new weight. This dress was one she’d bought for a ball that she and Cade were to attend. Rose’s throat burned at the memory. She had not wanted to start a fight. She’d wanted him to see her and be awed by the blue …
/
“You’re late!” Rose sat on the edge of the bed, refusing to cry as her husband walked in. He was handsome: tall and broad, with an athletic shape from his habitual baseball and the recreational boxing that he enjoyed.
“Wonderful way to greet your husband, Rose.” he said sarcastically. No word on the blue dress, no compliment on how she looked. Just mordant words.
“I’m sorry, it is just that we were supposed to leave two hours ago.”
“You could have gone without me,” he said casually. “We have a carriage for a reason.”
Rose sighed and bit her lip. “Do you know how it would look if I arrived by myself?”
Cade did not answer and instead took off his shirt and tossed it on the bed. Rose glanced at the crumpled lump of expensive cotton. A flash of color caught her eye and she reached for the fabric. The burning sensation in her stomach intensified as she rubbed the red cream at the collar.
“Cade,” she stood up and marched towards him, “what is this?” She turned the collar to his face.
He frowned and lowered her hand away. “I don’t know.” He turned his back, continuing his walk towards the bath. Rose followed.
“It smells like perfume, too.”
“I wasn’t at a whore house, if that is what you are asking, Rose,” he snapped.
A viper suddenly sprang up in Rose’s soul. She threw down the shirt. “If I were to check your pockets would there be fresh new bills? Coins? Were you gambling again!?”
Cade’s blank face told her the truth, and Rose rubbed her temples. “Cade … I know what goes on in places like that. I know there are women, drinks, opium and all sorts of things.”
“Rose,” Cade’s voice was clipped. “It is none of your business where I was or what I do with my money. I support you, I give you a home—you should be grateful for that instead of always complaining. That is all you do: complain, complain, complain!”
She glared and reached down for the shirt again. “So this lipstick just happens to be here for no reason? I am not an idiot, Cade. Gambling, drinking, it all leads to adultery. You can’t place yourself under a rockslide and expect for only one rock to hit you. They all go together. They—”
“Stop preaching!” Cade roared. “You sound like a lunatic!”
“Why is that whenever a woman expresses suspicion or concern she’s labeled a lunatic!?” Rose did not want to shout. She had wanted a magical evening, and she had wanted to look pretty, to have cake and make love to her husband afterwards. Instead, she stood with angry tears, holding a makeup-stained shirt and arguing. This was her marriage, this was her life, and no matter how much she showed her hurt or tried to get Cade to see what he was doing to her, nothing changed.
“Rose,” Cade stormed over, “go to the cursed party if you want, but I’m staying. I do not need to stand here and listen to your ravings!”
“But we promised our friends that we’d go. What will they think if we don’t show?”
“I don’t care at this moment what our friends think!” His voice grew louder and his handsome face clenched in rage. “Who can blame me for gambling, for drinking when I have this—” he waved at her, “waiting for me at home.”
Rose shook her head with disbelief. “So you are blaming your habits on me?”
“You certainly don’t help them diminish.” With a shake of his head Cade walked into the luxurious bathroom and shut the door.
The tears fell with abandon, staining the silk dress. Rose held her hand over her mouth not wishing for any of the servants to hear her sobs.
“How could you do this to me?” Rose cried. She was not sure if she was talking to Cade, or to God. All she knew was that bitterness was growing within her every day. She had done the right thing hadn’t she? She had prayed about her choice to marry Cade. Pondered, fasted, prayed some more. When she walked down the aisle, she knew that this was the man she was supposed to marry. Why then had it turned into this? Her marriage was broken and Rose was unsure if she could fix it. She was becoming increasingly unsure every day if even God would fix it. How then had she ended up here? Why would God direct her on a path that only led to disappointment?