George didn’t drink. Period. And the alcohol had gone straight to his head. It was too late to tell himself he’d allowed the people of Austin to cause him to make still another mistake. It was too late to try to explain to Rose that he had never intended to get drunk, that he’d only been trying to find a way to be fair to her and to himself at the same time.
Any ordinary bride would be hurt to learn her groom had gotten drunk within an hour of getting married. After the way he had proposed, Rose would be devastated.
“Can you imagine how Rose must feel, waiting in that room, not knowing what’s happened to you, not knowing when you mean to come back?”
Go back to what? He couldn’t go to her and not make love to her. He wasn’t that strong.
Several times this evening he’d been on the verge of forgetting all his scruples and running straight into her arms. If he could lose himself in her love, maybe he could forget the conscience which nagged him so unmercifully. If he could satisfy this physical need which tore at him until his control had been picked raw, maybe he could look for answers with a clear mind.
But he couldn’t do that. He owed it to Rose to stay away until he could make a full and honest commitment to her and to their marriage. It would be cruel of him to take her body and reject the rest of her. After all she’d done for him and his family, he damned well owed her that much.
“I told her I might not be back until late. I told her she might want to go to bed.”
What was he to tell her? To wait up for a husband who didn’t know if he could come back, and didn’t know what he would do if he did? For a husband who knew he must not touch her, but who knew he couldn’t resist?
He thought of the many nights he had spent dreaming of Rose, the countless hours spent thinking of her, imagining her in his arms, imagining himself making love to every part of her body.
A few kisses had just as much power to overset his calm now as they had that afternoon. But now there was no barrier, no fear of ruining her reputation. In the eyes of God and man, she was his.
“You did what?”
“You heard me. I’m not repeating it.”
“Why?”
“None of your goddamned business.”
“You’re right, it is none of my business, but it sure as hell is Rose’s business, and I think she deserves to know what you’re doing and why.”
George tried to force his brain to think. He had to decide what to do before his mind ceased to work altogether.
“Rose is none of your damned business either. She’s my wife.”
“Nobody could tell it.”
George started up from his chair, but he stumbled. Salty had to help him back to his seat.
“I don’t know what’s eating you,” Salty said, “but no matter what it is, I wouldn’t let it cause me to shame my wife.”
“I’m not shaming Rose.”
“What do you think all these men are thinking with you drunk as an Indian on white lightning? They think there’s either something wrong with you or something wrong with Rose. Can’t be any other reason for a man spending his wedding night getting drunk, not when he’s got a bride like Rose waiting in his room.”
“I don’t care what they think about me.”
“Didn’t think you would, but I thought you might care what they thought about Rose.”
George sat up and turned to look at the other men in the saloon. They were gathered in assorted groups about the room, some drinking, some gambling, others just talking. Many of them watched George out of the corners of their eyes.
“Every woman in town will know of it first thing in the morning. If they’re all like that McCloud wench, it’ll mean a dog’s life for Rose.”
George pulled himself up straight in his chair.
“Rose won’t have to run from any more dragons,” George said, almost as if he were making a declaration. “I’ll see to that.”
Rose had put on the prettiest of her new nightgowns, but she hadn’t been near the bed. How could any bride sleep on her wedding night when the bridegroom wasn’t by her side? When she had no idea where he might be. And she had no idea when, or if, he would return.
As a surprise, George had instructed the hotel management to move their things during the wedding ceremony from their separate rooms to the nicest corner room in the hotel. They had a view of Pecan Street from two windows and Congress Avenue from a third, tables with whale oil lamps, upholstered chairs, two washstands, and a large brass bed. The staff had even put their clothes away in the enormous mahogany wardrobes.
But Rose hardly noticed the luxurious room. Her thoughts were completely absorbed by George. It wasn’t likely anything could have happened to him, not with Salty along. No, he was staying away intentionally. But why?