At the sight of Rose Hamilton, Jamie’s pulse quickened. Something about her disheveled look, brown tendrils of hair falling down to frame her flushed face, sent his heart galloping. Still, he couldn’t help grinning at her disconcertion.
“I—I …” Her brown eyes grew wide, reminding Jamie of a cornered calf. She glanced down at the rolled-up rug. “I reckon I do.”
“Where do you want it?” Jamie needed to get his arms around the rug to relieve the temptation to slip them around Rose’s trim waist.
“The clothesline.” In an unnecessary motion, she pointed westward. Jamie knew the Hamilton farm as well as his own. “Why are you here?” she asked as he shouldered the carpet like a sack of grain and started toward the clothesline. “You were supposed to come yesterday.”
The shame and guilt he had felt all day yesterday, sizzled again inside Jamie. Of course Lillie Ann would have told Rose as well as Violet about his promised visit. “I know. I’m sorry if I inconvenienced Violet by not coming yesterday. Pa, Ty, and I had to clean some brush from a fence line.” While true, Jamie knew that cowardice, not the chore had prevented his promised visit. The thought of encouraging Violet’s affections when he had no intention of reciprocating them twisted in his belly like a hot poker. At the same time he had given his word, and, in the end, he knew he had to come.
Jamie slung the rug over the clothesline, glad for a reason to keep his face averted from Rose. “Is Violet about? Lillie Ann tells me she would be willing to loan me her complete works of Shakespeare.”
“Yes, Violet said she’d be happy to loan you any books you’d like to read, but …” Disappointment dragged down Rose’s voice. “No, I’m afraid she’s not here right now. She’s down at the schoolhouse attending a school board meeting.” Her voice rose with a hopeful lilt. “She should be back soon though, I would think.” Her last three words held little conviction.
Jamie hated the gush of relief swooshing through him. At some point, he would need to face Violet and squelch any hopes she might have of a romantic relationship between them. Freed for the moment from that disagreeable chore, the temptation to linger a while and spend some time alone with Rose tugged hard.
“Since Violet has given her permission for me to borrow the books, maybe you could get them for me.” Jamie could almost hear the soft hissings of a horned, devil-like tempter on his shoulder whispering suggestions Jamie knew he should eschew. “I did walk all the way over here.” He deserved a beating worse than the Hamiltons’ dusty carpet did for preying on Rose’s kind heart and sympathy.
She caught her plump bottom lip between her ivory teeth and glanced westward as if hoping to see her sister returning home. “Well, I suppose I could loan you one volume.” Her demeanor brightened with her voice. “When you return it, you and Violet can discuss what you read.”
Before Jamie could think of a reply that wouldn’t sound like either an agreement to her suggestion or an outright insult to Violet, Rose turned and headed toward the house.
“I’ll be right back with the book,” she said over her shoulder as she jogged across the yard. “If you like, you can wait on the porch swing.” Lifting the hem of her faded blue skirt above her trim bare ankles, she ran up the porch steps and disappeared into the house.
Egged on by the devilish tempter on his shoulder, Jamie plodded across the yard and up the steps then plopped himself down on the white-painted swing that creaked with his weight. He gazed eastward across the Hamiltons’ neat yard to the graveled lane lined with lilac and scarlet quince bushes. When Rose returned he should simply thank her for the book then head down the lane toward home. That’s what he should do. The tempter’s fiendish laughter in his ear faded at the sound of the front door opening.
Rose stepped out onto the porch, pulled the door shut behind her, and held out a blue cloth-bound book with gold and crimson markings that read Shakspere, edited by Charles Knight, volume II.
Jamie stood and took the book. “Thank you.” He glanced at the porch swing. Don’t do this. Don’t … “Would you sit with me and help me decide which story to read first? Looks like you could use a rest.”
A charming giggle bubbled from Rose’s pink lips as she glanced down at her well-worn blue skirt. “I must look a mess.”
You look like an angel. “Not at all.” Somehow Jamie managed to push the three words past his drying throat.
To his amazement, she sat down on the porch swing. To his horror, he joined her. She is Ty’s intended.
Rose took the book from his hands and their fingers touched, sending an electrical charge up his arm to his shoulder. “I brought this volume because Violet has marked a page with a scrap of paper.” She opened the book to a page with the heading Romeo and Juliet.
Jamie’s chest constricted until he feared for his next breath. Was Violet trying to send him a message? His heart felt as if it turned inside out and he struggled to repress a sardonic laugh. Could even the Bard invent a more tragic situation than his own, a villain more vile than himself? His brother’s intended owned his heart while he owned the heart of her sister. He should thank Rose, take the book, and go home before another moment passed.
Rose’s soft voice as she read from the page kept him on the porch swing.
“Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life.”
They took turns reading, laughing together over their certain mispronunciations of the old English. With his head leaned close to Rose’s, Jamie rested his left arm across the back of the porch swing, allowing his fingers to brush against her shoulder with the swing’s motion. By the last act of Scene I, Jamie could no more deny his feelings for Rose than Romeo could deny his for Juliet. When he read Romeo’s description of Juliet to a servant, the words were no longer Romeo’s, but Jamie’s own, describing his feelings for the girl sitting beside him. His heart throbbed as he read.
“O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”
He didn’t dare look at Rose as he waited for her to read the next line. Could she hear his heart pounding? Did his voice betray his feelings?
“Are you going to the box supper Friday night?”
At her unexpected question, Jamie’s heart jolted and heat infused his face. Awkward seconds passed as he fought for breath and control of his voice. “Yes.” The tumult inside him ebbed as the reason for her question dawned. He forced a weak grin. “I’d be happy to pass on to Ty any hints about how you plan to decorate your box.”
She gave a dismissive shrug. “Lillie Ann has told Ty how my box will be decorated.” She looked down at the page and her tone turned quiet. “But, for anyone who’s interested, Violet’s box will be decorated with a bouquet of violets.”
Jamie’s heart dropped to his stomach like a chunk of lead. Violet was interested in him romantically. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His face hurt with his forced smile as he glanced down the empty road in front of him. Friday he would bid on Violet’s box, and while they shared its contents for supper, he’d use the opportunity to disillusion her of any romantic notions toward him. “Reckon I’d best get back home.”
Somehow he managed to stand. The desire to find a reason to spend more time with Rose once again summoned the invisible devil on his shoulder. “Since we didn’t get to finish the story today, I’ll bring the book back next Wednesday and we can pick up with it where we left off, if you’d like.”
Rose started to stand and he took her hand to help her up. “I’d like that.” Her sweet smile set his pulse galloping.
Their eyes met and, for an exquisite instant, Jamie could have sworn an understanding passed between them. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she blinked eyes wide with surprise.
“What are you two up to?” Ty’s voice behind them broke the spell.