Give My Love to Rose (24 page)

Winston nearly lost his balance and fell as
he stood on one leg, pulled off his boot and dumped the contents
onto the cold, muddy ground. A small rope, a boot knife, and a gang
had Marston seeing red.

“
What did you plan on
doing with those?” Marston snarled, his carefully placed mask of
politeness falling to the wayside as rage contorted his
features.

“
N..nothing..” Winston
stammered. “Please.. please don’t kill me…”

Marston’s knuckles popped as he strode
forward another step. “Oh, you’re going to die here today, banker
man. I can promise you that.”

Winston Meade’s small eyes darted to all the
trees around them and Marston smiled. “Go ahead and scream. We’re
miles from anywhere but the cabin and you’re voice would never
carry back there overall this water.”

“
Please….?” Winston choked
out, tears streaming down his face and his lips quivering. He took
another staggering step back and nearly tumbled over the two-foot
drop into the rocky, raging river.

“
Please what, you
sniveling sack of shit. What exactly were the gag, the knife and
the rope for? Were they an insurance policy in case the lady wasn’t
willing to give you your payment?”

“
Just let me go, please…”
Winston’s cigarette slipped from his fingertips and fell into the
swift current below. “I’ll leave, sir, and I’ll never come back. I
swear it.”

“
You’re not leaving here
alive, Winston,” Marston shook his head. “I know men like you.
Hell, there’s a part of me that is a man like you. That woman’s in
your blood now.” Marston drew in a sharp breath between his teeth.
“I understand. There’s just something about her, isn’t there? She’s
so soft and warm with all that red hair and pale skin. She’s all
alone out here fending for herself—what kind of man could resist
that?”

Winston licked his lips and nodded, swiping
at the tears on his face with the back of his hand. “Exactly. So
you see my temptation?”

Marston stalked forward another step and
Winston whimpered as he shrank away in fear. “Oh yes. I see your
temptation. Tell me though, what would you have done if the boy had
come in the room? He could have been a problem. Or is that what
that gun is for?” Marston asked, tipping his head toward the .38
revolver barely visible beneath the edge of Winston’s jacket.

Winston remained silent, but Marston could
see the truth shining in the bastard’s eyes. He hadn’t planned on
letting Rose or Langley live past today. Marston’s hand shot out
and snatched Winston’s up by the throat, squeezing hard.

He smiled when he saw the weasel’s hand
inching toward his gun. “Pull it,” Marston snarled. “Pull it and
you’ll be dead before you can fully clear leather.”

The coppery scent of the deer’s blood was
thick in the air around them and Winston gagged. “I beg of you…
please, don’t kill me….I give you my word..”

Winston’s words were cut off when Marston
squeezed tighter. “Your word doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. You
were going to rape my woman.”

“
No…”

“
You were going to kill my
boy.”

“
No….I…”

Marston sneered as Winston became a
blubbering mess. “I won’t spend my life looking over my shoulder or
worrying that you’ll come around every time I leave that cabin.”
Winston just whimpered and was clearly struggling to breathe under
Marston’s grip. “I hope you’ve made peace with your maker, banker
man, cuz I’m fixin’ to send you to him.”

Winston’s eyes widened as Marston hauled him
off his throat by his neck and threw him down into the water. His
body squirmed, his legs kicked and his arms flailed as he thrashed
about, trying to escape. Marston’s grip never wavered as he held
the man’s head firmly beneath the water.

After several long minutes, Winston stopped
kicking and his body went limp. Marston held him under a bit longer
just because he truly hated the bastard.

Swiping water from his face with his free
arm, Marston smiled.

Now there was one less evil bastard
breathing the same air as Rose and Langley.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“
Where is he Marston?”
Langley demanded when Marston returned to the clearing.

"He’s dealt with,” Marston replied simply.
He had dragged the bastard’s body deep into the woods, stripped him
of anything valuable and covered him with a bit of mud and leaves.
He had no worries that the body would be found—no one ventured out
that far and the critters would make short work of the remains.

The boy nodded and leaned the rake against
the outside of the barn. “Good.”

Marston went to Winston’s horse and began
checking the beast for any brands but found none. He could sell the
horse and fetch a decent bit of money for Rose and Langley.

Langley came closer and frowned. “But
Marston, I should warn you that mama…”

“
Marston!” Rose’s voice
exclaimed. He turned to see the woman striding from the cabin
looking fit to kill…. When she saw the blood, dirt and leaves
covering him she paused. “Where have you been?”

“
Hello Rose,” Marston
replied, feeling uneasy. He wasn’t sorry that he had killed Winston
but he was nervous that Rose would want him gone once she realized
what he’d done. His only hope was that he would realize he’d had no
choice. Men like Winston Meade could only be dealt with one
way.

“
Where have you been?” she
asked again, much more quietly. “Langley showed me the doe you
killed but he wouldn’t breathe a word about why you weren’t here.
I’m smart enough to know that’s Winston Meade’s horse.”

“
It’s a nice horse,”
Marston acknowledged, running a hand over the creature’s
neck.

“
Marston, where is
Winston?” Rose questioned cautiously.

Marston went about removing the gaudy saddle
and tackle from the horse. “Dealt with,” he replied, never glancing
her way.

He could feel her blue eyes staring hard at
him. “Can we talk inside?” she asked.

Marston nodded. “Just let me see to this
horse and I’ll be in.”

Marston heard her footsteps disappear back
into the cabin. He let out a long breath and just hoped that Rose
would love him more than she feared him.

***

Rose was sitting at the table sipping on a
cup of tea when Marston came in a short time later. She took in the
sight of him—a sight that should terrify her.

He was nearly seven feet of solid muscle all
wrapped up in dirt and bloodstained clothes. His sharply angled
face was rough with a few days worth of stubble and lined with
dirt. Golden eyes watched her closely and in them, Rose saw no
regret and no remorse even though she was certain he had just
killed a man.

“
What happened?” she
asked, unsure if she truly wanted the answer.

Marston crossed the cabin and sat down on
the other side of the table. “He’s been dealt with.”

“
Marston.. did you kill
him?” she asked, staring down into her tea to avoid his
gaze.

Marston reached across the table to take her
hand, but Rose jerked away from him. When she glanced at his face
it appeared as if someone had just kicked him in the gut. “Are you
scared of me now, Rose?”

Rose shook her head and wrung her hands in
her lap. “I’m not afraid of you.. it’s just.. you just killed a
man.”

He pulled his hat from his head and rammed
his hand through his hair. “That’s right I did.”

Rose picked at her skirt. “How could you do
that?” she whispered, still unable to meet and hold his gaze.

Marston shoved his chair back and stood. He
pulled his hat from his head and tossed it to the floor. “I wasn’t
hard,” he snapped. “He’s not the first man I’ve killed and he may
not be the last—you knew who I was before now.”

“
Yes, but…”

“
But nothing!” Marston
snarled, causing Rose to sink deeper into her chair. “He was
climbing in your window while you slept when I found him. He had a
knife and a rope for you and a gun for Langley. He was going to
kill you both! That bastard got what he deserved.”

Rose’s eyes rose to his face as her heart
slammed to a stop in her chest. “He was sneaking in…?” she
whispered. Past memories overloaded her senses and she closed her
eyes tight against them. “You should have turned him over to the
authorities, Marston. Killing people is never the answer.”

“
It’s my answer,” Marston
growled. “Do you want me gone?” his voice was tight.

Rose didn’t answer as she kept her head
lowered and her eyes closed. She heard Marston make a noise as if
he were choking and then his boots moved across the floor. “Just
let me get cleaned up and then I’ll go and you’ll never have to see
my murdering face again. I warned you about the man I was but
you’re no different from hundreds of other lying women. You claimed
to accept me, claimed to care, took advantage of everything I could
do for you and now you’re tossing me out because I didn’t save you
and your son’s using the damn method you felt would have been best…
damn you, Rose.”

When the door to the water closet slammed
closed, Rose buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Marston’s
words had ripped her heart out. She loved that man—she shouldn’t.
If she had any good sense she wouldn’t want to spend her life with
a man who could kill so easily and not bat an eye. But Marston was
the man she wanted.

And of course, he had killed Winston. Most
men would have killed any man that they’d seen sneaking into their
woman’s bedroom window with every intention of raping her…. Rose
nearly vomited. Three years that banker had been toying with her
and if not for Marston, both Rose and Langley would now be
dead.

Rose was ashamed that she had sat at this
table and let him feel as if she didn’t want him. Marston had done
everything for them. He was what Rose wanted forever. She had to
make him see that. Rose couldn’t let him leave thinking that she
had changed her mind.

Rose had practically spit in the man’s face
after he’d been forced to do something terrible to protect her and
her son. She only prayed that could forgive her. Apologizing could
not wait….

***

Marston stood under the cold spray of water
with his hands braced against the wall and his head down.

He found it hard to breathe and hard to
focus on anything other than the fact that Rose wouldn’t even look
at him in that kitchen. He had thought that she loved him enough to
see that what he’d done had been what he’d had to do. It had been a
justifiable killing and nothing less than that. Marston wasn’t
sorry he had done it—if he hadn’t killed Winston the man could have
come back any time to finish what he’d started.

How in the hell could Marston simply walk
away from this place? How could he leave that woman and that boy?
He loved Rose with everything he had and Langley—hell Langley was
the son he’d never had. He couldn’t live without them and yet he
had no choice. Rose didn’t want him here any longer. Jeremiah had
been right. It was impossible to change who you were and Marston
had been a fool to try.

The water closet door opened and closed
behind him and without looking, Marston knew it was Rose. Somehow
he managed to look over at her and he found her standing there
simply staring at him.

Her gaze roamed across his body and Marston
felt himself harden. Marston was frozen in place, unable to move,
as Rose grabbed a clean wash rag from the cabinet and walked toward
him. Rose held that rag beneath the water, her body mere inches
from Marston’s and Marston couldn’t take his eyes off her soft,
full face as she lathered the rag up with soap.

Fire shot through him when Rose laid one
delicate hand on his arm and held the washrag in the other hand,
rubbing it across his skin and cleansing the remaining dirt and
blood away.

Marston had never in his life felt a desire
like the one that was currently building in his blood and he could
see it mirrored as Rose’s eyes looked up into his. But Marston knew
that now as not the time to act on that desire and so he used a
substantial amount of his self-control to keep from push her
against the wall and take her right there.

He stood very still and simply allowed her
to wash the dirt from his body. He watched her as her little hands
learned and explored nearly every inch of his body. Marston bit his
tongue so roughly he tasted blood.

Her touch was doing more than just cleansing
him. Rose was letting him know without words that she was standing
beside him—that she accepted what he’d done and who he was. The
contact between them was sealing their bond in a more intimate and
permanent way than even a night of lovemaking could have.

Rose’s dress was damp and her wet curls were
sticking to her face when she finished her task and sat the rag
aside. Their eyes locked. Blue and gold lost in one another and the
power they both held.

“
Rose? Please don’t make
me leave,” Marston pleaded, his voice hollow. “I need
you…”

Rose’s soft hand came to rest on his cheek
and Marston leaned into it shamelessly. “I need you too, Marston.
You can’t leave me.”

Marston stepped away from the flow of water
and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her damp hair.
“You’re all that stands between me and the devil. I can’t live
without you and that boy.”

Rose buried her hands in his thick, wet hair
as she clung to him. “I love you, Marston.”

Marston shook his head. “That’s not a strong
enough word.”

Marston felt her stiffen slightly as she
pulled away. He looked down into her blue eyes questioningly and
was shocked when she suddenly rose up on her toes and pressed her
soft lips to his.