Chapter 13
James Alan Foley’s arrival into the world was met with a complication. “It’s a breech birth,” Mitch said after his first look. “His little bum is coming out first.”
Rose sat at the head of Cherry’s bed, holding her hand, lending encouragement. “That’s nothing serious, is it?”
“Not to worry. Ewes give breech births all the time.”
Once, when she was between pains, Cherry called, “What are you doing down there?”
“Just turning the baby, Mrs. Foley. Don’t you worry. Nothing to it. Lots of lambs come into the world this way.”
Whatever Mitch did worked fine. The baby literally slipped into the world soon after. He had lots of dark hair and all his fingers and toes. The moment he arrived, he let out a lusty cry and kept on crying. Even though Rose had never assisted in a birth before, she knew enough to clean the baby, wrapped him in a soft blue blanket, and placed him in his mother’s arms.
Cherry’s first glimpse of her newborn was a joy to see. “My son,” she murmured. With the tenderest of touches, she ran her finger over his forehead, down his nose to his tiny chin. Eyes shining with love, she announced, “He’s perfect.”
Soon Baby James stopped crying and fell asleep. Exhausted but happy, Cherry gazed up at Mitch, a world of gratitude in her eyes. “You brought my baby into the world, and I’ll always be grateful.”
“Nothing to it.”
Rose spoke up. “That’s not so, Mitch. What would we have done without you?”
“You’d have managed.”
Cherry soon fell asleep. Mitch sat back and took his first opportunity to look around the tiny room. Since he’d had no time to examine his surroundings, Rose guessed he had no idea where he was. When she opened the door to get some fresh air, his gaze fell upon the fancy sign with the flowers that hung on the door. He looked at Rose. “Why is her name on the door?”
Rose remained silent. She couldn’t think what to say.
Mitch took another look at the sign. “Blimey. Is this place what I think it is?”
Rose remembered Deke telling her about how religious Mitch was. Lived by God’s word. Read his Bible every night. Now that he’d realized what kind of place this was, no doubt he couldn’t get out of here fast enough. She looked into his kind grey eyes. “I’m afraid it’s what you think it is.”
Mitch looked toward the sleeping new mother. “And she…?”
“She is.”
“I see.” Slowly Mitch got to his feet. “I’ll be leaving now. Mrs. Foley will be fine, and the baby, too.”
She could tell nothing from his blank expression. Well-mannered man that he was, he must be hiding his disgust. “Thanks so much, Mitch.”
He gave her a quick “You’re welcome” and left. What a shame. She thought back to when Cherry had reached the worst of her labor. Stoic up to then, she’d cried out in pain. Mitch had patted her hand and reassured her. “There, there, little mother, be brave. It’s almost over.” He’d been so kind, so compassionate, that Rose, in what she now saw as a moment of madness, had considered the possibility that here was the perfect solution for Cherry. Mitch would fall in love with her, and she with him. She would keep her baby. They would marry and have a wonderful life.
Ah, well. Only a fairy tale.
Tillie poked her head in. She and the other girls had done all they could do for the victims and had finally returned. When Tillie saw Cherry and her newborn, she uttered one of her choice expletives and called, “Girls, come see! She’s popped the baby.”
Soon the third-floor girls were crowding around Cherry’s bed, waking her up, oohing and ahhing over her newborn. Cherry would be fine and it was time for Rose to leave. She looked through the window and saw dawn was about to break. She’d been up all night, so engrossed in helping the victims, and then Cherry, she’d never given a thought to herself. A tide of weariness engulfed her whole body. As she hurried down the stairs and out to the stable, she shivered with chill and fatigue. Her legs ached. Her eyes felt heavy from lack of sleep. So much had happened this night. To her dying day, she’d remember all of it, from the horror of the accident to the joy of helping a new baby into this world. She’d think of all that tomorrow, though. All she wanted now was to get home, crawl into bed, and hug her daughter before she fell into a long, deep, merciful sleep.
To the sound of roosters crowing, Rose drove the buggy down the long driveway that led to the farmhouse. Tired though she was, she would drive around to the back like she always did, unhitch Star, feed and water her, and then—what a joyous thought!—get to bed. But something in front of the house caught her eye.
What on earth?
She reined in the horse and stepped to the ground. Some kind of objects were heaped in a pile directly in front of the porch steps. She drew closer. Her dresses! Her shoes, bonnets, pearl reticule—everything she owned lay in a heap before her. What were all her possessions doing out here on the ground? Who would do such a thing? Her stomach clenched tight as she rushed up the front steps. She grasped the doorknob and turned it. The door didn’t open. But it was never locked, and it always opened. She pushed hard. Nothing. The door was barred on the inside. With both fists, she started pounding, she didn’t know how long. She waited. Nothing happened, and she pounded again. At last she heard a noise. Someone was sliding the bar on the inside back. Thank God. Someone had made a mistake. Soon it would be all straightened out and she could get to bed.
The door opened a crack. Raymond peeked out. “I can’t let you in.”
She gasped. “What do you mean you can’t let me in?”
“I just can’t is all.”
“Raymond, you open the door this minute and talk to me.”
Her brother-in-law slowly swung open the door. Sleepy eyed, he scratched his head, looking acutely uncomfortable. “Pa’s mad at you. He says to tell you that you don’t live here anymore.”
This couldn’t be happening. A flood of desperation swept through her, but she would try to stay calm. “What did he say exactly?”
“Well…” Raymond’s eyebrows drew together in an agonized expression. “He says you’re a sinner because you’re running a den of in…in…”
“Iniquity?”
“That’s it, iniquity. And he says you’re not a fit mother, and he’s going to take Lucy away from you.”
Her blood pounded. She felt her face get hot from a combination of rage and humiliation. “Call him down here. I want to talk to him.”
Raymond shook his head. “He won’t come, Rose. You know how he gets sometimes.”
“Then call Coralee.”
“Even if she wanted to, Pa wouldn’t let her.”
“Does she want to?”
“I don’t think so. She sides with Pa.”
“Drucilla?”
“She was up all night. I hate to wake her up.”
She needed to get away, go someplace where she could think. “Is Lucy all right?”
“Oh, she’s fine.” Raymond frowned in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Rose. It was Pa who did this, not me.”
Poor Raymond looked miserable. He wasn’t accustomed to any kind of a crisis in his life. No use standing here. Nothing to do but leave. “None of this is your fault, Raymond, so don’t you worry.”
“Where will you go?”
“I have lots of places to go.” She had no idea. She turned and headed down the porch steps, calling over her shoulder, “Get back to bed. I’ll be fine.”
She passed the pitiful pile of her belongings without touching anything. To do so would have been utterly humiliating. Without a backward glance, she climbed in the buggy and headed back to town. Where could she stay? She must think straight, but the raw, naked hurt of being thrown out of her home was so overwhelming she could hardly manage a rational thought and kept having to swallow the sobs that rose in her throat. How could Ben and Coralee do such a thing? How could they keep her from seeing her child? But she mustn’t dwell on that now. She absolutely must keep her wits about her, get back to town and go…where?
If not for the accident, she could have gotten a room at her own hotel, but at the moment, the River Queen was full to overflowing with shipwreck survivors. So was every hotel in town, and she knew for a fact there was not a room to be had. Perhaps Mason could help her, but come to think about it, where was he and where had he been? Oddly enough, she hadn’t seen him last night during all the excitement. How very strange that every man she knew, every woman too, had rushed to the river to help. Except Mason Talbot. No doubt he had an explanation, but it did seem strange.
Deke. At the thought of him, a spark of hope rose from the depths of her despair. Deke with his kind, warm eyes, his laid-back humor, his wise advice. Deke with his practical, no-nonsense view of life.
Of course, that’s where she’d go.
* * * *
In the early morning sunshine, Deke was bending over the water pump when Rose guided her buggy past the ice house and stopped in front of the stable. Bare to the waist, wiping his face with a towel, he rose to see who it was. “Rose?”
“Yes, it’s me.” She’d never seen him half-dressed before. Despite her distress, she couldn’t help but notice how flat his stomach was, and how the lean, hard muscles rippled in his chest. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Not much. Maybe an hour.” He pulled on his shirt and started buttoning. “This is a surprise.”
She laid down the reins and stepped from the buggy. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how happy she was to see him. What a relief it would be to talk to him and confide the awful thing that had happened. The telling of it would be painful, but she would not cry. Above all else, she would maintain her dignity and control.
She walked toward him. “I thought I’d stop by because…” The sob lurking in her throat—the very one she’d so far managed to suppress—came surging up. No way could she stop it. “Oh, Deke, I…” Her voice choked. Tears so blinded her eyes she staggered and would have fallen if two strong arms hadn’t encircled her and pulled her close.
He didn’t ask what happened or why she was crying. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it,” he said in a perfectly reasonable voice, as if sobbing women fell into his arms all the time. “Come on, we’re going upstairs.”
A bed, bureau, chair, and washstand made up the Spartan furnishings of Deke’s room over the stable. A few pegs on the wall held his clothes. The room wasn’t much, but for Rose it provided a welcome shelter from the turmoil her life was in. One arm circling her shoulder, uttering soft words of comfort, Deke sat with her on the bed and waited patiently until she finished her bout of crying. When at last the tears stopped and she dried her eyes, he got off the bed, pulled up a chair, and faced her. “Are you upset because of the accident? You’ve seen too many things you should never have seen. You’re not the only one. I hope to never have a night like that again.”
“Last night was a nightmare. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never forget what those poor people went through.” She tried to keep her voice from shaking. “But it’s more than that.”
“There’s more? Tell me what happened.”
With a final gulp and dab at her eyes—he’d loaned her a handkerchief—she told him how she’d returned to the farm and found her belongings piled in a heap out front. She recounted her devastating conversation with Raymond. “So there you have it. My father-in-law has thrown me out and threatened to take my child away from me. Coralee agrees, so where does that leave me? I’m desperate, Deke. I don’t care about the farm. They can have it. All I care about is Lucy and howI can get her back.”
Deke rubbed his chin. Concerned and attentive, he’d carefully listened to every word she said. “First off, Ben should have talked to you himself, not left the dirty work to poor Raymond.”
“I’m not so sure. Maybe I should have pushed past Raymond, or gone around back and broken a window. Then gone upstairs and talked to Ben.”
“I can’t see you doing that. You were right to leave. Most important, don’t act in haste. There’s a solution, but we’ve got to work on it.”
“We? You mean you’ll help me?”
“You’re a good mother, and Ben is being an arse. Of course, I’ll help you.”
Up to now, she’d felt so alone, so utterly without support. She pressed a palm to her heart. “I’m very glad and so utterly grateful, so—”
“Stop right there. Have you had any sleep?”
“None.”
“Hungry?”
“I couldn’t eat a bite.”
“Here’s what we’ll do. First off, I’m going to bring you some water so you can wash up. And then”—he arose and pulled a long, red plaid shirt from one of the pegs—“you’ll get out of those clothes, into this shirt, and go to bed. Don’t worry, I’ll be elsewhere.”
She started to protest that she wasn’t really tired, that the ugly scene at the farm had so upset her she’d entirely forgotten how exhausted she was. Now her aching body reminded her how much she needed some rest. She took the shirt Deke offered. “Maybe I will sleep for a while, that is, if I’m not putting you out.”
The warmth of Deke’s smile echoed in his voice. “No, you’re not putting me out, Mrs. Peterson. Sleep as long as you want. When you wake up, we’ll decide what to do.”
* * * *
The sinking sun cast long shadows through the pine trees that lined the river when Rose awoke and looked out the window. She hadn’t meant to sleep so long. Surely they must need her at the hotel and were wondering what had become of her. She would dress and hurry there now. But first… She looked around. So this was where Deke lived. Curious, she slipped from the bed. In the plaid shirt that was way too big, she wandered around his room. Everything clean and neat. At his bureau, a near-irresistible urge struck her to peek in the drawers. She would do no such thing, of course. She was above all that. Mother had taught her that snooping through somebody’s things was not only bad-mannered, it showed a distinct lack of character.
Only…
She couldn’t resist, opened the top drawer halfway and peeked inside. Nothing special, just a pair of long johns neatly folded, matching socks tied together, handkerchiefs stacked in a tidy pile. Everything perfect, as she might have suspected of a man like Deke Fleming. If he had any character flaws, she had yet to spot them. Such a nice man…but “nice” didn’t quite cover the way she was beginning to feel about him. He wasn’t even here, yet she felt comfortable and protected in his room.
One drawer was enough before shame stopped her from opening the rest. She hoped no one would see her, but before she dressed, she needed to wash at the pump and use the privy. She needn’t have worried. After sneaking cautiously down the steps, she discovered no one was around, and the stables couldn’t be seen from the street. She had just gone upstairs again when she heard a knock on the door followed by, “It’s me.”
Sitting on the bed, still wearing his red plaid shirt, she called, “Come in, Deke.”
He entered and asked, “Did you get some rest?”
She smiled up at him. He looked the same as ever, dressed in dark pants and a blue cotton shirt. Remembering this morning when she’d seen him without it, she got a tingling in the pit of her stomach. But that was silly. After all, this was only Deke. “I slept all day.”
“Feel better?”
“Yes.” To her surprise, she meant what she said. Earlier, she’d been in a state of dark despair and could see no way out. But things didn’t look quite so bleak now. Perhaps it wasn’t the end of the world after all. With Deke standing by to help her, she’d regained at least some of her confidence. Gazing down, she realized the plaid shirt wasn’t nearly long enough, and her legs were exposed. “Oh, dear.” She reached for a blanket to cover herself.
The gesture seemed to amuse him. “Don’t bother. I’ve seen more than a few female limbs in my time and managed to control myself.”
She dropped the blanket. Such false modesty was ridiculous, and besides, she’d always been proud of her shapely legs and didn’t mind in the least if he saw them. Not like her at all, but then, this wasn’t an ordinary day, and this strange attraction she was feeling for Deke right now wasn’t part of her ordinary feelings. “Come sit down and talk to me, Deke. I’ve got to get to the hotel, but I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your letting me sleep here.”
He sat beside her on the bed. “It’s always my pleasure to help you. You know that, don’t you?”
The look in his eyes—so deeply caring, so…was that desire she was seeing? Unexpected words popped into her head. If this were an ordinary day and she was thinking rationally, she wouldn’t dream of saying them, but in the current mood she was in, she deemed them ultimately suitable. “Do you remember that day you kissed me in the ice cellar?”
“Of course I do.”
She took the plunge, knowing full well what would happen. “I haven’t forgotten either. It was very nice, Deke. I liked your kissing me.”
His reaction was what she expected, and wanted. With a shuddering breath, he wrapped his arms around her and brushed his lips against hers. “Happy to oblige. I liked it, too.”
As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he pressed his lips to hers, caressing her mouth more than kissing it. At the same time, he lowered her to the bed, swinging her legs up so that they were lying flat, he half on top of her. His hand skidded down her side as he kissed her devouringly. When finally he lifted his lips, she murmured, “No, come back,” and drew his face to hers in a renewed embrace. Why was she doing this? She hadn’t planned anything beyond a quick kiss, but now she wanted more, and it was all her own doing. The trouble was, this was a Deke she didn’t know, not the poor cripple she felt sorry for but a strong, virile man in every sense of the word, a man whose hands at the moment were slowly, tantalizingly unbuttoning the red plaid shirt.
An explosion of pleasure and need went off inside her. “Don’t stop,” she said.
* * * *
When it was over, she lay in Deke’s arms, head resting on his chest, feeling more warm and content than she could ever remember. She never knew passion could feel like this, certainly not whatever that was with Emmet. A sliver of guilt struck her. Her poor dead husband hadn’t been gone six months, and here she was, making love with another man. How downright wicked. Also how shameless and immoral. She smiled and snuggled closer, cherishing the steady beat of Deke’s heart against her ear.
He laughed from his exhaustion. “That was a bit of all right,” he said.
“Just all right?” She gave him a gentle nudge. “You Australians and your understatements.”
He tangled his fingers in her hair. “I can’t get enough of you.”
She was turning to press a kiss against the pulse in his neck when her practical side intruded and the outside world closed in. The shipwreck. Ben. Lucy. The River Queen. What was she doing? How could she actually be enjoying herself after the horror of the ship explosion, let alone her shock at finding she’d been locked out of her home? “I must go, Deke. I shouldn’t be here. I—”
“Yes, you should go. I understand.” Deke raised on one elbow and gazed down at her, a mixture of desire and understanding in his eyes. “Go do what you have to do. Don’t worry about Lucy, and for God’s sake, don’t do anything rash. Bide your time. Sooner or later you’ll know what to do. Much as you’ll miss Lucy, from what I’ve seen of Coralee, she’s in good hands.”
He’d given her good advice, much as she hated to admit it. “Thanks, I suppose you’re right.”
Aside from her anguish over Lucy, a jumble of other anxieties assailed her as she slid from Deke’s bed. Had they missed her at the River Queen? What about Mason? He’d practically asked her to marry him, and, face it, she’d led him to believe she might say yes. What if he’d somehow found out she’d spent the night with Deke? What if everyone knew? Oh, dear God, what a mess.
Deke watched in silence as she washed and dressed at a frantic pace. Only then did she remember the gold locket that hung around her neck, the one she thought so precious because it contained a lock of Anthony’s hair. What a naïve little fool she’d been. Why hadn’t she seen how he’d used her? When Deke wasn’t looking, she yanked the locket from her neck. Not only would she never wear it again, it was destined for the trash.
When she was ready to leave, she stood with her hand on the doorknob, her mind fumbling for the right thing to say. Not easy when her life was in such a turmoil.
Deke blew her a kiss. “Don’t forget what I said, Rose. Don’t do anything rash. Now go. They need you.”
“Goodbye.” She opened the door, then looked back and gave him a playful grin. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I had a lovely time.”