Sweet Forever (18 page)

“Ask the right questions, and folk are always eager to help.” His demeanor switched to a far more malicious posture. “It would be a real shame if anything bad were to happen to that young man,” he said with a sneer. “I’ve looked too long and hard to simply turn on my heel and go back to the
James Seymour
without you!” His manicured fingers bit into her wrist. “Without a groom, you’ll not be a bride. I killed your first husband in order to have you. Don’t think for a second I wouldn’t do it again and not twitch an eyelid!”

A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at his revelation. She’d had no idea Bill had planned to kill Donovan before he ever sat down at that gambling table.

The sun glinted off the silver pocket watch he pulled from his scarlet brocade vest. “The
James Seymour
leaves Madison at five o’clock this evening. Be in front of the Madison Hotel in a half hour’s time, or Jacob Hale will meet the same fate as Donovan Archer.”

She didn’t doubt it for an instant. In dismay, she heard the defeat-laden words drop from her lips. “I’ll be there.”

All thoughts of Becky Morgan and their morning of shopping were swept away in a tempest of mind-numbing terror.

Rosaleen hurried down Mulberry Street toward the boarding-house, cold fingers of fear tingling down her spine. Alarm consumed her. Bill knew exactly where Jacob was, and that he was alone.

Her mind raced. Patsey had said Andrew would be working on a masonry job near Hanover for the next several days. Even if she could get word to him, she’d only be putting him in danger as well. If she attempted to alert the sheriff, Bill might very well see her, kill Jacob, and slip away onto any number of steamboats or ferries leaving the Madison shore.

No. Jacob’s only hope was for her to obey Bill.

Nearing the boardinghouse, she prayed she could get what she needed and leave without being noticed. She glanced behind the garden where newly washed sheets flapped and billowed in the breeze. The sound of Opal and Patsey’s laughing chatter gave her a measure of hope.

She entered the front as quietly as possible, grimacing when the front doorbell emitted a tiny jingle. Hiking her skirt to her knees, she took the stairs two steps at a time.

Panting, she stumbled into her little attic room. Her hands shook as she rolled up the few frocks she owned and stuffed them into the leather portmanteau she’d bought at King and Brothers before the engagement ball. Reaching into the mattress, she grasped the remainder of her money and tucked it into the folds of her rose ball gown. She picked up the little Bible Jacob had given her and pressed it for a second to her heart before dropping it into the portmanteau.

Leaving, Rosaleen paused at the doorway, allowing her gaze to sweep the little room that had been her haven for the better part of four months. Bereft, she quietly closed the door and headed downstairs.

In the parlor, she went to Jacob’s desk and took a sheet of paper from the stack he used to pen his sermons. Drawing a deep, ragged breath, she dipped the quill into the inkwell and forced her trembling hand to stillness.

Oh God, forgive me for the lie and let him believe this. Please, just let him believe this.

The scribbled words of her good-bye note blurred, and she sniffed back tears. She started to sign it “Love, Rosaleen,” then scratched out the word “Love,” and simply signed it “Rosaleen.”

Out on Mulberry Street, she turned for one last, fond look at the boardinghouse.
Oh God, just let me get away unseen, and please, please protect Jacob!

Numb, she clutched the portmanteau and hurried up Mulberry, praying she could reach the Madison Hotel without running into Becky Morgan.

She fought to push from her mind images of what awaited her. There’d be plenty of time later to deal with the grief of her loss and the terror of Bill McGurty. Keeping Jacob safe was all that mattered now.

❧

The bottom of the oilcan popped beneath Jacob’s thumb as he lubricated the last of the church doors’ hinges. Assuring himself that the two oak doors worked perfectly, he opened and shut them several times.

He descended the four stone steps. His heart skipped with his feet as his hand slid along the wrought-iron railing. A few paces from the building, he turned to gaze at his dream, now a reality.

The redbrick church stood like a stalwart sentry looking down on the Ohio. The gleaming white cross atop the belfry would be visible to those passing on the river as well as from the Kentucky side. Thanks to the Applegates’ generous hundred-dollar donation, the five-hundred-pound bell should be arriving next week from Cincinnati’s Verdin Bell Company.

“Well, there it is, Orville.” He glanced down at his friend’s gravestone. “I hope it is everything you dreamed of.”

A stiff river breeze brushed the gold-tinged willow branches against the headstone as if in nodding agreement.

“With God’s help, I will work tirelessly to fill it, Orville. I promise.” The smile spreading over his face reached all the way to the center of his heart. “I won’t be alone in my work. I will soon have a wife to help me. I only wish you could have been here for my wedding.” A sweet sadness tempered his joy. “You’d have loved Rosaleen,” he whispered. “Her heart is as beautiful as her face, and she loves the Lord.” He grinned down at Orville’s marker. “The true miracle is that she says she loves me, too.”

Walking down Mulberry Street, Jacob could not stop smiling. He knew Rosaleen had planned a day of shopping with Becky. His pace quickened, eager to learn of her day and share with her all he’d accomplished at the church.

When he entered the boardinghouse parlor, the look of sadness on Opal Buchanan’s face wiped the smile off his.

“Opal, what is it?” Fear tightened around his chest like an iron band. Had something happened to baby Adam, Andrew, or Patsey? Just then, he heard the baby’s normal cry. Through the parlor doorway, he caught a glimpse of Patsey carrying Adam. Whispering soothing hushes, she headed upstairs with the infant.

“Oh Jacob, I’m so sorry.” Opal held out a page of his letter paper that trembled in her hand.

“Rosaleen? Has something happened to Rosaleen?” Frantic, he rushed to the woman’s side and snatched the paper from her hand, terror twisting his insides.

“I didn’t want you to find it alone.” Opal sank limply to the sofa.

Jacob had to read the terse missive three times over before his mind would assimilate its meaning. At last, he dropped numbly to the settee. Yet he could not budge his gaze from the unbelievable words that continued to rip at his shredded heart.

Jacob,

I’ve come to realize that I cannot marry you after all but must follow my dream and journey on to New York. Please forgive me, and do not try to find me.

Rosaleen

His voice cracking, he raised his face to Opal’s tear-streaked one. “Did she say anything to you—tell you why?”

“No, not a hint.” Opal’s befuddled voice shook. “She left this morning to go shopping with your sister, and I never saw her again. Patsey and I spent the entire morning behind the garden doing the laundry. When Rosaleen didn’t return by noon, I began to wonder but figured they’d gone on to Becky’s house.”

“Becky must know something.” With unsteady fingers, he folded the note and tucked it inside his shirt next to his heart. Though these few words had shattered his life, they were all he had left of Rosaleen. So in that, they were precious.

In a daze, he walked the distance from the boardinghouse to Becky’s home.

Could everything have been an act?
The thought was indescribably excruciating. His mind would not accept it. His heart would not accept it.
God help me. Show me what to do. She wouldn’t have done this. Something is wrong! Something is terribly wrong!

He pounded at his sister’s front door with both fists.

The door eased open, revealing his sister’s perturbed face. “Jacob, please! You don’t have to knock down the door. Lucy is sleeping.”

“What happened with you and Rosaleen today?” Ignoring Becky’s admonishment, he strode past her into the front hall.

“Nothing.” His sister’s face held a bewildered blankness. “She never showed up. I was late arriving at Fitch & Williams. Mrs. Pearson wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t watch Daniel and Lucy, so I had to take them with me.”

“She’s gone.” Somehow he managed to squeeze the painful words from his throat.

“You can’t mean
gone
. Surely there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Does this look like a misunderstanding?” He pulled Rosaleen’s note from his shirt and handed it to his sister.

“Oh, Jacob, I can’t believe she’d do this.” Becky raised a baffled gaze from the paper in her hand. “She seemed so exited about your wedding—about staying here.”

“I don’t think she wanted to go.” Daniel’s small voice intruded from the bottom of the stairway.

Jacob and Becky turned to the boy, who stood looking down at his dusty shoes.

Rushing to his nephew, Jacob grasped the boy’s shoulders. “Daniel, what do you mean? Did you see Rosaleen today?” He tried to calm his racing heart. The child might only want attention. It could mean nothing. It could mean everything.

“I—I. . .” Daniel stammered, his dark eyes large with fear.

“Daniel!” Jacob nearly shouted in frustration.

“Jacob, you’re scaring him.” Becky’s quiet voice and hand on his arm flooded Jacob with remorse.

“I’m sorry, Daniel.” Kneeling beside his nephew, Jacob brushed the tears from the child’s face. “Please, Daniel, I need to find Rosaleen. If you know anything, please tell me. Have you seen her today?”

Daniel nodded.

“Where?” It took all Jacob’s strength to keep his voice calm.

“In front of the Madison Hotel,” Daniel mumbled, dropping his gaze to his shoes again. “I saw her when me and Nate Ross went to the confectionary down by the carriage company.”

“Daniel, it’s ‘Nate and I,’ ” Becky corrected her son’s grammar, “and you know your father and I don’t want you near that hotel alone!”

Ignoring his sister, Jacob turned back to his nephew, hope and fear tangling together inside him. “What did you mean when you said you didn’t think she wanted to go?”

“An angry-looking man pushed her into a carriage, and she was crying.”

“You’re sure it was Rosaleen?”

“Yes. She was wearing that green and white dress that used to be Mama’s.”

In spite of his anxiety, Jacob felt a grin tug at his lips. It faded quickly. “Was it a tall man? A man as tall as your Papa, with reddish hair?” Could Alistair have returned after all and forced Rosaleen to go with him?

“No.” Daniel shook his head. “He was kind of fat around his belly like Mr. Stinnett, but shorter. He had a black walking stick with silver at both ends.”

Alistair Ralston’s description of Bill McGurty slammed to the front of Jacob’s mind, filling him with fury and terror.
Always carries a silver-headed, ebony walking stick.

“McGurty. Which way did the carriage go?”

“Down toward the river.”

“Who’s McGurty?” Becky asked.

“The man Rosaleen was running from when the
Cortland Belle
caught fire—the man who killed her husband.”

Becky’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp.

Jacob felt a rage he’d never known.
How dare he?
How dare the man come to Madison and pluck Rosaleen from his life? Had he been lying in wait at the hotel? Had McGurty threatened her? Jacob’s mind spun with unanswered questions. Disappointment pierced his heart at the realization that Rosaleen hadn’t trusted him to protect her from McGurty. Surely she knew he’d lay down his life for her without a second thought.

“Am I in trouble?”

Jacob felt his heart melt at Daniel’s shaky question. “No, Daniel.” He brushed the boy’s dark hair from his face and placed a heartfelt kiss on his little nephew’s head. “You may have just saved Rosaleen’s life. I pray you have.”

“Jacob, you can’t go down to the riverfront alone. You don’t know what that man might do.” Becky gripped his arm, fear shining in her blue eyes. “Please wait until Ephraim returns from his call and can go with you.”

“Becky, I can’t wait. I can’t risk that man’s leaving Madison with Rosaleen. When Ephraim returns, have him fetch Sheriff Rea down to the docks.” He forced a smile and gave his sister a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Just pray for us, Becky, and try not to worry.”

Racing down Main-Cross Street, Jacob prayed with all his heart that he might rescue Rosaleen safely. But if his last act on earth before facing his Lord was an attempt to wrench her from McGurty’s grasp, then so be it.