No matter what happened, she would never forget George. Even if she never saw him again. She could never love anyone as she loved him. For the rest of her life she would measure every man she met against him.
She had memorized his features, his changing moods, whole conversations, entire scenes. She knew every movement, every expression. He was part of her fiber. He would always be.
She wouldn’t forget his brothers, either. She felt as if they were part of her now. And that was odd, considering the fact that they felt she was an outsider.
She thought of the ease with which she had fitted into the Robinson family. She had felt welcome from the first. By the end of the first week, she felt like she had always been a part of them. Why couldn’t that happen here?
But she was a survivor. She had endured before George appeared in Austin, and she would survive if she never saw him or his brothers again.
The sound of an opening door caused her thoughts to snap like a thread, her breath to stop in her lungs. Footsteps in the kitchen. The handle on the door lifting.
George had come!
Chapter Seventeen
She waited in the dim lamplight, the wick turned down to conserve precious fuel. He continually marveled at her loveliness. He couldn’t understand how any man could let her father’s fighting for the union blind him to her beauty. Inside and out.
She looked so vulnerable. So fragile. So afraid of what he was going to do.
Or not do.
“I wasn’t sure you would come,” she said. Even her voice sounded anxious, as though she was afraid the slightest misstep might drive him away.
“I had some thinking to do.”
“So did I.”
George felt a tremor of uneasiness. It had never occurred to him that Rose might also have some questions which needed resolving. Fool! Why did he always think he was the only one who had to make decisions? He realized now he’d been doing that with the boys as well.
With Rose, too. He’d been taking her for granted, assuming she’d always be there, waiting, willing, forgiving, whenever he decided to turn to her.
George approached the bed. He sat down on the edge, facing Rose.
“Do you have things straight in your mind?” she asked.
“More than before.”
He wished she would turn the wick up. He couldn’t see her expression. He wanted to know how she felt about what he was going to say.
“You mind if I go first?” she asked.
George felt his stomach knot. There was nothing of the happy, comfortable Rose of earlier that evening. She seemed terribly serious. Unhappily so.
“No.”
She didn’t start right away. She didn’t look at him either. And that made him even more nervous. If she found it so difficult to find the right words, it could only be because she felt they were words he wouldn’t like. She looked up, straight into his eyes.
“I don’t know why you asked me to marry you. Quite frankly, I’ve been afraid to ask.”
She lowered her eyes. She seemed reluctant to continue.
“You know I love you,” she said. “I never made a secret of that.”
He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know what to say.
“I’m afraid that love betrayed me into making some promises I don’t think I can keep,” she went on.
The queasiness in his stomach grew worse.
“I said I understood your fear of responsibility, that I would never tie you down. I do understand, but I can’t go on living here waiting for you to decide you want to come to me, fearing you will change your mind any minute. That used to be enough, at least I used to think it was, but it’s not anymore.”
Was she about to tell him she wanted to leave?
“When I came here, I had a fantasy about St. George rescuing me. I knew it was unrealistic, just a child’s fairy tale, but I believed if I could stay here a while, somehow things would work out.”
“But they didn’t.”
“I fell in love with you. Then Zac seduced me with his impish grin. Next I became awfully fond of Hen. I even like Monty when he’s not shouting or trying to stampede me by the sheer force of his personality. I don’t mind Tyler, and I worry about Jeff.”
“You learned to care about all of us.”
“You’ve got a wonderful family. They are so bright, energetic, and fiercely loyal. Each of you has so much love to give, but you’re afraid to reach out for fear it’ll be refused.”
“They haven’t refused you.”
“No, but they’re holding back. They’re waiting for you. They won’t let themselves love me as long as you don’t.”
George was stunned. It had never occurred to him that his brothers’ decisions might rest on his own. It was an even greater shock that they would hold back from something they wanted just because of him. And to think he’d been holding back because of them.