Texas Brides Collection (44 page)

When he asked Pastor Martin where he might go for a few minutes of quiet, he suggested that Owen go to Mrs. Braum’s house. She wouldn’t object to Owen’s presence, and the parcel of land where her house sat was big enough to give him the illusion of space.

The problem with Mrs. Braum’s place was that he would find Rosie there. In her presence, he couldn’t think straight. Mrs. Wilkerson also would allow him to roam her grounds, but running into Nancy would be even worse than running into Rosie.

When the Wilkersons had been robbed, a part of Owen chuckled. They so deserved it. He sobered quickly enough when the thief struck again. A member of Mrs. Wilkerson’s bridge club described the same kind of robbery as the first. The thief only took things the owner had multiples of that could be of immediate benefit to people in need. The third strike differed a little. The victim had filled a closet with outgrown and out-of-date clothes she wanted to get rid of. The thief cleared out most of the extra clothing, leaving only a few fancy items, as well as taking a little bit of fresh food.

So far Owen hadn’t visited Rosie’s neighborhood since Easter Sunday. He feared seeing children clothed in things that should have been freely given from the heart of the previous owner. As the thefts continued, Owen hadn’t quite known how to proceed. In the robberies he had solved, the thieves had taken obvious valuables like cash and jewelry. Usually it was simply a matter of learning who might have prior knowledge about the items taken and where they were kept.

That line of reasoning led him nowhere in this case. No thieves he knew bothered with perishable items like sugar and flour. Anyone could guess that food would be kept in the pantry.

He also had never encountered a robbery where the items stolen couldn’t be returned. The food was consumed almost as quickly as it was dispersed. Freddy’s remark focused Owen’s attention on Rosie’s apartment building. When he asked her about it, she’d admitted to the wonderful gift of butter and cornmeal that had given them his Easter Sunday johnnycakes.

Owen decided to visit the second victim. The maid, a woman who had attended church with Rosie’s group on Easter, brought them tea and petits fours. If he didn’t return to duty soon, he would have extra weight he needed to work off before he was at his prime again. Thinking about that was easier than considering the questions sure to follow.

“Have you discovered anything new, Ranger Cooper?” His hostess’s blue eyes sparkled as she asked the question. Of all the members of Mrs. Wilkerson’s circle, she did the most to help the poor. Like most other victims of a crime, she felt violated and frightened in her own house. “I can hardly go to sleep at night, for fear of someone coming in and causing harm while I lay abed. I’m all alone, you know, ever since my husband passed away. And my son lives down Galveston way. He’s telling me I should move in with him, that’s how worried he is. But my home is here.” Her cheerful facade slipped. “Please tell me you know what is going on.”

Her son had been a proper snob when he was in school, and Owen doubted he was all that worried. But he felt her palpable fear and wondered, once again, what to do. He had talked with God about a dozen times already, but if God was answering, Owen hadn’t heard it.

“Take me through the day of the theft again.” He hoped, prayed, for some fact that could turn the direction of his suspicions in a different way.

She repeated her story. Owen kept his eyes on the floor, fixing the facts in his mind. As she mentioned each member of her staff, he brought their faces to mind. Nothing gave him pause until she mentioned her new maid, Iris.

After she finished her recital, he asked, “Iris. Who is she?”

Blue eyes blinked. “The new maid, as I said. The one who brought in the tray just now.”

The fear in Owen’s chest formed a ball. Both this robbery and the last one were connected through Rosie Carson.

The group that gathered to go to church the Sunday after Easter was half what it had been. Most of the children came back, though, and Rosie couldn’t stop smiling. The parents were more than glad to have the children away from home for a few hours.

Whatever the reason, Rosie was glad to have them. If these young people could hear and see and taste and feel the love of Christ, she couldn’t wait to find out what would happen.

Only one tiny cloud hovered on her horizon. Make that two. She felt good and right when she left the gifts with people who needed them. The first cloud came in the shape of the dismay and anger rich people felt about the robberies. Why they missed a few things here and there when they had so much, she couldn’t guess.

She hadn’t expected the anger in Mrs. Braum’s voice when Rosie had expressed the joy of the neighborhood about the gifts of extra food for Easter. “You should have seen their faces, Mrs. Braum. They were so happy. They ate on that food for a week. Not many of them go a week without being hungry.”

Mrs. Braum had harrumphed. “I am glad the children had food to eat. Truly, I am. But, Rosie, people can’t steal to get what they need. That’s just not right.”

Rosie couldn’t understand that attitude. The pastor had preached about Ruth the other week. He said they were commanded to leave the corners of the fields unharvested, so that poor people could follow along behind and gather what they needed. She’d thought of the clothes packed to give away and extra food sitting in the pantry like the leftover wheat. But when even Owen said it was wrong, she was in a quandary.

Also, she had read the whole book of Acts. All the stories excited her, at least until she got to the fifth chapter and read the horrible story about God striking Ananias and Sapphira dead when they didn’t give all the money they made to the church.

It didn’t seem wrong to hold something back. If they gave everything, what would they live on? The words Peter spoke to them bothered her. “Why hath Satan filled thine heart to lie to the Holy Ghost, and to keep back part of the price of the land?….why hast thou conceived this thing in thine heart? thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God.” He didn’t even give them a chance to repent.

Rosie didn’t mind the thought of going back to jail, although she didn’t think she deserved it, but getting God mad enough at her to make her die, that was something else.

She looked at the money purse where she kept all the coins she had picked up on the ground and saved from her salary and even a few she found lying loose in the pantry. It was a good amount, more than she had ever had at one time before. But she knew a child who needed an operation to make his leg straight. It would cost lots more money than she could make in a year.

No, Rosie, the angel in disguise, would have to strike one more time before she retired. Just this one time. She knew God approved. Didn’t God want to heal the sick?

He had even showed her the right place to get that kind of money.

T
he Easter Angel seems to know exactly who needs what. She’s treating people’s personal property like a mercantile, where she can buy whatever she needs for nothing.” Owen tried to inject humor into his remarks, but he knew he fell short.

Rosie hesitated a step. “I’m glad you asked me to come with you when you go to visit Iris. She’ll be scared right out of her mind, and her father might tell her not to go back to work. And they need every penny she makes.”

Fear was not what he wanted Rosie to feel, unless she needed to. She confused him in a hundred different ways. He stopped in his tracks. A neutral spot, away from places that engendered suspicions and made him believe in the honesty of the woman he admired, might restore a sense of balance.

“Do you mind if I put off speaking with Iris?” At her confused expression, he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t question her unless you are there. But for tonight”—he relaxed his shoulders and allowed a smile to pull at his mouth—“let’s go somewhere different. Have you ever walked by the river? It’s quite pleasant.”

Her hands dropped to her sides, and she fingered the material of her uniform. “Can I go there, looking like this?”

“You look fine.” He took both of her hands in his. “In fact, you look so fine, I’d be scared for you to go there alone. You’d have half the young men in San Antonio chasing you.”

“Oh you.” Red blossomed in her face as she pulled her hands away from his.

“You’re pretty when you blush.”

The color deepened at that comment. Owen couldn’t wait to show her the river, and he decided to splurge. Walking by Rosie’s side, he enjoyed the silent camaraderie until they reached a street where hansom cabs plied their trade.

“Is it far?” Rosie pointed to the darkening sky.

Owen spotted a cab headed in their direction. “It won’t be for us.” He lifted a hand to halt the cab.

“You’re renting a cab?” Once again Rosie’s hands strayed to her apron and tugged at it. “That’s an awful extravagance.”

“Don’t worry. I have the money.” He helped Rosie into the cab, where she raised the window curtain and stared at the passing street. “I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll match the cost of the cab and put it in the special offering box at the front of the church.”

She brought her hands together. “That’s a wonderful idea. I wish more people would do that….” Her voice trailed off. “But they don’t.”

“You’ve made me think about things in a different way. Since I met you, I don’t even think about buying a cup of coffee at the restaurant without setting aside money to give to people in need. Jesus said, ‘For ye have the poor always with you,’ but even with my job, I’ve ignored them. Blind to what was right in front of me.”

He was in danger of talking about the very things he had promised himself he wouldn’t discuss, at least for this night. But before he could stop, he felt he had to say at least one more thing. “Give people time. This is all a new way of thinking.” He spotted the water ahead of them and tapped the top of the cab to let the driver know to stop. “And here we are.”

“Look at that water!” Rosie raced ahead, pausing well above the edge of the riverbank. “It winds through the city like a ribbon in my hair.”

She sounded like she was seeing the river for the first time. He wished he had a ball with him, or maybe a dog with a stick. He’d love to see Rosie chasing after a little dog. Was that what separated criminals from law-abiding citizens, a few chance hours in fresh air and sunshine? “You know, this would be a nice place to hold the Easter egg hunt next year.”

“Do you plan to be here next year?” Rosie turned away from the river and looked into his eyes. Something about the intensity of her gaze said it was more than a casual question.

“Yes.” Where did that answer come from? Owen hadn’t bothered coming home during Passion Week until his injury forced him to this year. But he knew why he wanted to return: the woman standing before him. Rosie. An impossible question popped to his throat.

She had turned away from him, once again facing the river. “This would be a lovely place for a hunt. There are all kinds of wonderful places to hide eggs. But I don’t know if we’d be allowed….” She swallowed. “I still don’t like disappointment. God is with me all the time, I know that, but it still seems there are places I’m not supposed to go.”

“Aw, Rosie.” The impossible question refused to leave Owen alone. “If you were with me, in the company of a Texas Ranger, no one would ever question you again.”

At those words, she turned her body about, those bright eyes piercing his heart and soul. “What are you saying, Ranger Owen Cooper?”

He had come this far. He couldn’t go back. “I’m saying I’d like to court you, Miss Rosie Carson. If you’re willing.”