Romancing Redemption Read online

  Michael rolled his shoulders and sat up straight. He could figure out which direction to take. All he had to do was... oh, hell, who was he kidding? He was going to go for a ride and let the wind blow the worry from his mind.

  He’d stress out about choices in the morning.

  Rosie

  Chapter 17

  THE DAYS DIDN’T PASS with any welcome speed, sitting at home with no job until Monday when she started at the bank – if she started.

  Rosie still hadn’t talked to Ronan James and had held off on signing the contract she’d received in the mail. The last thing she wanted to do was lock him into something that he didn’t want.

  Saturday dawned earlier than she was prepared for.

  In the shower, Rosie bent her neck to the side to allow for the steaming water to pound upon the crick she’d gotten from her sleepless night of tossing and turning. Maybe, just maybe, if she acted like she didn’t know about the rumors, people wouldn’t give them any heed.

  She’d try it, but to be honest? Anyone who listened to the crap Phillip spread were gossipy and self-righteous.

  Ugh. Rosie stopped rinsing the conditioner from her hair and propped her arms on the shower stall wall. She closed her eyes and leaned her head forward. What was she doing? Even if the majority of the residents of Clearwater County believed the rumors, they hadn’t done anything to start them. They weren’t even involved – except some of the men.

  Shaking her head, she inhaled long and slow. Nothing good would come of her walking into the barn-raising with an attitude of “screw ‘em all”. Even at the worst of times, her mother had approached things with a smile on her face.

  Attitude was a choice. Rosie could do whatever she needed to. In fact, if she thwarted Phillip’s plans to ruin her and still rose to the top, she’d be able to succeed in so much more.

  Turning off the water, Rosie grabbed for the towel hanging from a hook outside the stall. After she wrapped it around her torso, she stepped onto the rug.

  Sara Beth stood beside the mirror with her arms crossed.

  Rosie screamed, clutching the towel and bouncing up and down.

  Arching an eyebrow, Sara Beth commented. “That won’t hold off any intruders. But ‘A’ for effort.”

  Panting, Rosie glanced from Sara Beth to the door and back. “What do you want? I thought you were sleeping.” Still sore with her sister for ignoring her the last few days, Rosie crossed to the mirror and wiped it clear with the corner of her towel.

  Sara Beth thrust a handful of papers in front of Rosie’s face. Crumpled in the middle from her tight grasp, grayscale pictures on the sheets caught Rosie’s attention.

  She turned to Sara Beth and spoke quietly, as if anger wasn’t working itself into a storm inside her. “Where did you get those?”

  “Seriously? That’s all you’re going to say? How about when were you going to tell me we have three sisters? Or was that something else from our past you decided I didn’t need to know?” Tears rolled down cheeks drawn tight from the grimace on her lips. Sara Beth’s chest heaved and she didn’t move the papers from their position inches away from Rosie’s face.

  Eyes trained on Sara Beth, Rosie slowly pried the documents from her sister’s hand. She looked at the papers as she straightened the corners, doing her best to avoid seeing the information printed on the top one.

  Sisters? Three of them? So not one boy in the bunch?

  Rosie couldn’t help but wonder what they looked like, their age, where they lived. A longing welled within her chest. She’d never met them. Had they lived like she and Sara Beth had? Had any of them been luckier? Or worse off?

  Glaring at the sink, she couldn’t help asking. “What do you think?” She turned to see the reactions on Sara Beth’s face.

  Maybe Rosie was selfish for feeling like it wasn’t fair that more of them were out there. She didn’t want there to be more of them who’d suffered at that bastard’s hands. And if they didn’t suffer, why did she and Sara Beth have to?

  Sara Beth rolled her eyes, lids puffy and red. “We aren’t alone. If nothing else, there are three other women out there that understand. They get it. They have some of us in them, too.”

  The part she didn’t say was the part they were embarrassed about, the part they tried to hide every day. The Caracus part.

  “Have you even looked at them?” Sara Beth’s words fell like an accusation in the steam-soaked air. She didn’t need to define the pictures – those pages had been like elephants in both their minds.

  Rosie swallowed, shaking her head. “No, I couldn’t do it.” She pushed past Sara Beth into their room, throwing the papers to the ground, and grabbed her clothes. Pulling on her underwear beneath the towel, she jerkily tugged on her bra, shirt, and then jeans. “To be fair, I didn’t even want to bring the papers home. I feel like... I don’t know. Like somehow I don’t want to know about them. I don’t want to see them.”

  “Why?” Sara Beth followed Rosie into their small room, arms crossed over her chest.

  Rosie didn’t answer for three, six, nine seconds. She stared at the spot beneath the miniature window on the wall across from her.

  Another thirty-three seconds and she spun around. “I don’t want to know them. What am I supposed to do, now that I know about them? Find them? And do what?” She kicked the papers from where they’d landed, spreading them across the floor. She stormed to Sara Beth, face to face. “What do I do, if they’re younger than us and need help? I can’t even take care of us.”

  Hurt slashed across Sara Beth’s face. “I’m not saying you have to take care of anyone, not even me.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “All I want you to do is be honest. I can get a job. I can help out.”

  Rosie stopped her mounting tirade.

  The lack of sleep suddenly crashed around her. Shoulders drooping, she slumped to her bed. Covering her face, she rolled to her side. After a moment, she peeked from between her fingers. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I love our life here. Money is tight, but it isn’t everything, you know?”

  “Yeah.” Coming to join Rosie on the bed, Sara Beth sighed as she sat. “I don’t know what to do. But I think we should do something... maybe not right now, but soon. Don’t you?”

  Rosie couldn’t deny the unshakeable urge to find the girls they’d be able to claim as family. She dropped her hands, half-sitting to pull Sara Beth down beside her. Whispering, she tilted her head until it knocked softly into her sister’s. “Can you imagine? More people in our family than just the two of us?”

  They stared in wonderment at the ceiling. Something so foreign dangled so close.

  Sara Beth rolled to her side and looked down on Rosie, a knowing smirk replacing the anger from moments before. “So... you’ve been out with Michael Rourke, right? Have you kissed yet?”

  Pushing at Sara Beth’s shoulder, Rosie scrunched her nose and laughed. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Oh, yes, it is. Is he going tonight?” Her smile faltered. “A part of me doesn’t want to go, if Phillip could be there, you know? He’s gotten a whole lot scarier than before.”

  She chewed her lip for a moment and then an impish glint sparkled in her eyes. “Come on. Have you kissed? I don’t kiss anyone or even date. All the boys want to do is sleep with the girls and the girls just want to talk about who they’ve slept with.” She flopped to her back and sighed. “Do you think I’ll ever meet anyone?”

  Rosie turned her head until she was able to look directly at her sister. All humor vanished from her voice and she said with as much sincerity as she could. “The perfect guy is out there, right now, wondering the same thing.” She watched Sara Beth for another moment. “What do you like to do, if not sleeping with anyone?” Thank heavens!

  “Um. Nothing.” Sara Beth cast a sidelong glance at Rosie then returned back to staring at the ceiling.

  “No, tell me what you like. It can’t just be sitting here at home doing nothing. Even that’s boring
for me.” Not that it ever happened. Curiosity piqued, Rosie twisted up on her side without squishing Sara Beth against the wall. “Seriously, I want to know.”

  “Well... you’ll think it’s stupid.” Sara Beth glanced up at Rosie, biting her lip.

  Rosie drew an X over her heart. “I promise, I won’t.”

  Excitement lit up the almost always present sadness on Sara Beth’s face. “Horses. When I graduate, I want to ride rodeo. Or at least get into it. I don’t know. Something to do with horses. They’re magnificent.”

  Horses? “That’s not stupid. It’s not what I like, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t important.” Rosie leaned forward and squeezed Sara Beth’s shoulder. “If that’s what you want to do, then go for it. I’ll help in any way I can.” She wagged her finger in front of her. “Except, I won’t help with the horses. Those things are huge and scary.”

  “Rosie, you’re so funny.” Sara Beth wrestled a pillow out from behind her back and slammed it as hard as she could on Rosie’s head.

  Unable to let even one slide, Rosie grabbed a different pillow and retaliated.

  They ignored the pictures watching them from the floor.

  THE BARN RAISING STARTED at eight, but Rosie and Sara Beth didn’t show up until almost noon.

  With the main frame and some of the walls up, most of the work on the barn was done. The men would finish up while the woman got ready for that night and tended to the children.

  As Sara Beth and Rosie made their way to the backyard to help set up, Rosie searched as much of the construction area that she could see for Michael. But he wasn’t in sight.

  Sara Beth leaned over and grabbed Rosie’s elbow. She murmured. “Why is everyone looking at us weird?”

  Rosie hadn’t noticed anything. But as she glanced around the glares and hands being raised to speak behind became glaringly obvious. She realized all the women weren’t busy with party setup but more with the entertainment – her.

  But maybe she was just being paranoid. She didn’t have to jump to conclusions every time she thought someone was out to get her. Most likely nothing was going on, and she was just being a baby.

  She half-shrugged. “No idea. Maybe they like your clothes.” She grinned at Sara Beth. “Where should we start first?”

  Pointing at the long picnic tables set up beside a row of raspberry bushes and pine trees, Sara Beth nodded. “Let’s see if we can help there. Being in charge of food placement would be fun.”

  At the table, Rosie smiled at the young lady setting up a punch bowl. If she remembered correctly, when the woman ate at the diner, she liked her hamburgers medium-well and was always a very generous tipper. Reaching for the unstable bowl, Rosie asked. “Hi Monica. Can we help you with this?”

  Monica’s face hardened and she glared at Rosie even as she accepted the help to right the wobbly dish. “I’ve got it. Thank you.” She turned from the Scott girls and busied herself at the next table.

  Startled, Sara Beth and Rosie glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. Hiding a sick sinking feeling just under her ribcage, Rosie walked to the next small station area and attempted the same thing. The women there reacted the same way.

  Backing off, Rosie turned to Sara Beth. “I think Phillip and Madam might have made more of an impact than I’d given them credit for.”

  “What’s going on? Why is everyone acting like jerks?” Sara Beth scowled at the women collected into small groups.

  Left with nothing to do, Sara Beth and Rosie ambled across the wide expanse of lawn to stand beside the older shed that the Cavendishes used as their barn until they could save up to hold a barn raising. Common in the rural community, multiple outbuildings lent an air of community even on a plot of land far from other homes.

  Rosie bent and picked a dandelion from the thick bed of grass.

  Sara Beth cleared her throat. “Don’t look now, but here comes trouble.”

  “Aw, ladies.” Phillip approached from the side of the house, a tall champagne flute held high as he walked toward them. “I was just wondering where the entertainment was.”

  Rosie reached for Sara Beth’s hand, pulling her toward the shed that had acted like a barn. Before she could get too far, Phillip grabbed her shoulder and met her gaze. “Rosie, we need to talk. I miss you.”

  Jerking from his grasp, Rosie growled. “We have nothing to talk about. Get. Away. From. Me.”

  He reached for her elbow again, eyes intensely focused on her face. “Damn it. You owe me.”

  Rosie ducked away, dragging Sara Beth with her.

  “Yoohoo, Phillip. How ‘bout that drink you promised me?” One of the women from town wiggled her fingers at him, shooting imaginary darts with her eyes at Rosie.

  Torn between going after Rosie and her sister or pandering to the woman who reached his side faster than Rosie thought possible, Phillip glanced between Rosie and his admirer. The newcomer brushed her fingers over his collar and grazed a fingernail up to his chin and turned his face to hers. “Come on, Phillip. My daddy wants to talk with you about supply chains.”

  Taking advantage of the moment, the Scott girls darted behind the corner of the barn and into the slightly open doorway.

  Rosie pressed her fingers to her temples. “Oh, man, I don’t know, Sara Beth. Maybe we should go home. I don’t see Michael and nobody wants our help or even seems to want us – or rather me – around.” She lowered her hand which was blocking her view of her sister.

  But Sara Beth wasn’t in front of her.

  Instead, she’d made her way down along the wall staring in awe at the horses stalled in the temporary shed.

  Whispering, Sara Beth didn’t look Rosie’s way. “Can we just stay in here until the dance? You can find Michael and then we can go home? I’ve never seen so many horses in one place before.” She turned wide eyes on her sister, pure joy eradicating the worry which normally shadowed her expressions.

  Waving her hand, Rosie focused on a collection of hay bales against the wall and claimed a spot to sit. Maybe she could catch up on some of the sleep she’d missed out on the night before.

  She couldn’t wait to see Michael and couldn’t help but wonder if he’d thought about her half as much as she’d dreamt about him.

  ROSIE STRETCHED, PULLING away from a prickling sensation in the small of her back and the soft skin of her inner forearm. She brushed at something scratchy on her cheek.

  The sounds of a country ballad serenaded through the wooden slats of the shed and she opened her eyes. Right. The barn and hiding with her sister.

  Locating Sara Beth didn’t take much effort. Rosie sat up and brushed her hands at the clinging straw as it seemed velcroed to her shirt and hair. She yawned. “Hey, Sara Beth, how long have I been out?”

  Sara Beth ambled to a stop beside her and flopped onto the bale. “A couple of hours. I’m so glad, too. I’ve petted every single horse in here and even fed some of them. Nobody has come in since we got here.”

  A faster rhythm beat through the walls. Rosie glanced at her sister. “Do you think we should go out there now?”

  “Phillip hasn’t found you. Do you really think he’s going to give up that easy?” Shrugging, Sara Beth leaned back. “I don’t know. Why don’t we just go home? I don’t have a good feeling about staying tonight. I don’t want a repeat of that crap with him.”

  Neither did Rosie, but what did she do? Run and hide? No. Her days of running away were behind her. She shook her head. “I understand, but Phillip isn’t going to win at intimidating us. I’m not leaving tonight, until we’re ready.” Neither said out loud that they had reached ‘ready’ about thirty minutes before leaving their house that morning because of the possibility of seeing him.

  “Let’s go see if Michael’s showed up yet.” And the nerves returned to her stomach. Seeing that man every day for the rest of her life would never get old. Suddenly, she wasn’t in such a hurry to leave.

  Standing in sync, Rosie and Sara Beth exited the shed.

  Such
a drastic change in only a few short hours took them by surprise. Where only a frame had stood, a fully functional barn had been erected. What amounted to a small fair with colorful tents and pony rides speckled the land around the new building. Brightly dressed women and cleaned up men walked together under huge flood lights set up at strategic points around the dance area.

  The aroma of bar-be-que and watermelon filled the cooler evening air, warring with the hum of the music. A stage had been assembled utilizing the back deck of the main house where the band strummed and drummed for the party-goers.

  Scanning the faces for his, Rosie held her breath. Had he come? She hadn’t heard from him in days – plural – and she could feel his absence deep in her chest.

  Drawing everyone’s attention, a screech from the microphone echoed off the outbuildings and other temporary structures. Even Rosie abandoned her search for Michael to see what the commotion was.

  Phillip waved his hands at the band as he commandeered the microphone, his back to the crowd. After a moment, he turned to face the party, a large but shaky smile plastered to his lips while he sloshed a drink in one of his hands.

  He tapped the microphone. “Is this on?” Heaving back at the sound of his own voice, Phillip looked around him as if searching the source.

  Rosie rolled her eyes at Sara Beth who giggled.

  “Hello, people of Clearwater. I’m Phillip Nelson, as most of you know—” He winked and pointed at a handful of young women beside a table. “And I own a few of the stores in town. I come up here as a concerned member of the community.”

  A rock seemed to drop into Rosie’s stomach. No way was he taking his game to that level.

  But he went further. “As a man who would someday like to have children and raise them in our esteemed town, I think we need to make sure our community is kept as pure and clean as possible.”