Rose(79)

He had still done the wrong thing.

He should go back in there right now and confess everything, but he knew he wouldn’t. Even worse, he didn’t want to. The evil inside him wouldn’t let him. It would take advantage of his weakness and of her love to despoil her for its own pleasure.

He wanted her for himself. He couldn’t do without her. Call it weakness, call it deviltry, it didn’t matter. He had to have her.

He hated himself.





They still hurt. The hate-filled glances. The angry turnings away. Noses raised in the air. It seemed to have gotten worse since the news had flown around town that she was getting married.

Rose tried hard not to remember past slights and hurts. But it was impossible when the women made a point of letting her know that even though she was about to become a married woman she would not be welcomed into their midst.

The men didn’t seem so unbending. A couple winked at her, but most respected George enough to not want to anger him by insulting the woman he was about to marry. Especially not on his wedding day.

She had the unrewarding pleasure of knowing that even though she had finally risen in the men’s estimation, it was due to George’s credit rather than her own.

The injustice of it all angered her so much that she resolved to give the people of Austin a wedding they wouldn’t forget. Or at least a bride they wouldn’t forget. She would spend every penny in her pocket if necessary, the money she had saved to leave Austin and the money George paid her, but she would be the most spectacular bride possible.

Rose turned purposeful steps toward Dobie’s Emporium, the largest and most expensive purveyor of ladies’ clothing in Austin. Up until now she had never dared do more than stand at the window, looking at the articles of feminine apparel on display. Today she would have the pleasure of looking over their entire stock. And she meant to inspect each piece before she decided how to spend her money. This might be the most important investment of her life. She wanted no mistakes.

Once inside, Rose found it hard to concentrate. Rows of merchandise seemed to stretch for miles. Everything from shoes, coats, dresses, and fine undergarments to items of decoration. Frivolous things like shiny stones, billowing feathers, and imitation flowers. Fantastic things like an artificial branch with a mother bluebird on the nest. Apparently this concoction was meant to be worn on a hat. Rose decided it would take a more imposing stature than hers to support such an arrangement.

For the better part of an hour she wandered up and down the aisles studying each garment, fingering the material to test its weight and the tightness of the weave, turning the garment inside out to inspect the craftsmanship of its construction, weighing the merits of the various articles which caught her eye, going over and over in her mind the number and cost of the items she needed for her purpose.

Rose enjoyed the delicious feeling of knowing she had fifty-four dollars to spend for anything she wanted. She was only barely aware of the stares or whispers of the other women in the store. To be able to shop for exactly what she wanted was a pleasure too intense to be spoiled by censorious or curious glances.

She was in a world of her own.

She would have loved to discuss her purchases with another woman, someone like Mrs. Dobie, the proprietress of the establishment, but she could tell from that lady’s pursed lips and crevassed forehead that Mrs. Dobie wasn’t happy with Rose’s success. She probably felt, as did most of the women in town, that women like Rose should be prevented from mixing with their betters.

After all, there was only one way for a woman like her to catch a respectable man like George Randolph. And what more could you expect? Any fool could have told you Rose was going to do everything she could to get her claws into him while she had him to herself. Why not? The man had his own ranch, and gold he was willing to waste on this hussy.

At least, Rose thought, that’s what Mrs. Dobie’s expression seemed to say. Her compressed lips didn’t utter a single word.

Rose picked up a soft cotton chemise decorated with a bit of pink ribbon, two more just like it trimmed in blue and green, a pair of shiny black button-up shoes with two-inch heels, a new Sunday dress, a hat with a wide upstanding brim lined with gauze, and two nightgowns, the prettiest in the whole store. She also chose a pair of dainty white slippers, an ell of yellow ribbon, and two bunches of artificial flowers.

She took her purchases to the front of the store.

Mrs. Dobie’s frown grew even more pronounced when Rose laid her choices on the counter. Her lips became so pursed she looked as if she’d just sucked on a lemon.

“Spending the man’s money before he’s even married you, I see,” she remarked. “Suppose he backs out?”