Chapter 14 – Choices

Dear Emmett, What is it like in Rochester? You don't say enough information in your letters. Are the houses all huge and beautiful and is everyone rich? Are there gardens and parks and stores for everything? What about the people you work for? Is their car fancy? What does the lady wear? Do they have parties and friends over and go to the theatre and dancing? Please, please, PLEASE write back and tell me! Love your sister Margaret.

P.S. I think I should be called Margaret instead of Maggie now that I am almost grown up but no one ever remembers.

P.P.S. Everyone here at home is fine.

P.P.P.S. I miss you.

Dear Emmett, I went hunting with Pa and I shot my first buck. I go fishing and catch rabbits in the snares. I am not as good as you. I got the strap at school two times. One day I saw a bear. When are you coming for a visit? From your brother Will.

I gave a hiccupping laugh as I refolded my letters and sank back into the armchair. I missed my family so much, and nothing brightened my day so much as a new bunch of letters from home.

I stretched my legs out in front of me and sighed. It was dark and I really should have been heading back to my own room to get some sleep, but I was reluctant. Earlier in the evening I'd been in the kitchen, eating a late supper of dinner leftovers, when I had heard the shouting from upstairs. I'd paused in my eating and looked at Miss Ellen, but she had resolutely kept her eyes on her work.

"Not our business, Emmett," she murmured, but even she had stopped and glanced uneasily up at the ceiling when we heard Rosalie's enraged shriek.

"I'm going up to see that she's not hurt," I said bluntly, pushing away from the table.

Miss Ellen put a restraining hand on my arm. "Emmett…" she began warningly, stopping when we heard the shouted string of curses in Rosalie's forceful voice. "Well, she's clearly not hurt too badly."

"I don't like him," I said flatly, knowing I was breaking the rules by voicing my true feelings about my employer, but not able to help myself even so. "He doesn't treat her right and I don't trust him not to hurt her."

Miss Ellen had shaken her head, but she hadn't contradicted me and I knew I wasn't alone in my feelings.

After my supper I'd sat down in the conservatory with a handful of letters, strangely reluctant to leave the house. Somehow I felt it was my job to protect her, that capricious, confusing angel. Knowing that, realistically, there was almost nothing I could do I still sat stubbornly in the conservatory, rereading my letters and staring out at the dark garden.

I almost missed her when she came in, walking as silently as a wraith through the conservatory towards the outside door.

"Miss Rosalie!"

She shrieked and jumped away, but in a second I was by her side, catching hold of her arm to steady her.

"You scared the hell out of me!" she gasped.

"I'm sorry." I couldn't stop looking at her. Her hair was out, tumbling down her back in waves that shone silver in the moonlight, and as I peered closer there were shiny tracks of tears on her face. Without thinking I reached out a hand and gently wiped away her tears with my thumb. "Aww sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Rosalie didn't seem to notice my slip, as she pulled away and said in a shaky voice, "I want a fire in the small sitting room. I was going to get some wood, I didn't think anyone was still up."

"Let me help you," I said gently. "Go on, go back to the sitting room and I'll be in in a moment."

Without a word Rosalie turned and disappeared back into the house. Troubled, I went and fetched the wood and walked tentatively through the dark and silent house to the small sitting room.

Rosalie was crouched on the floor, her arms wrapped around her legs and her eyes on the empty hearth. She hadn't turned on the light, but there was enough moonlight coming through the window that I could see what I was doing as I knelt beside her and set the fire. Both of us quietly watched the flames lick their way through the kindling and catch the bigger sticks and then work on the logs I laid carefully on top.

Rosalie made a tiny noise, and looking at her I realised that she was crying. Thinking of nothing but the fact that this angel girl was unhappy I wrapped her in my arms and, after a moment of frozen resistance, she burrowed against my chest and sobbed.

"Shhh, sweetheart, it's okay…come on baby girl, it's not that bad…" I was barely aware of myself, focused only on the slim body that was wracked with sobs in my arms, and the sweet smelling silky hair that ran through my fingers as I stroked her back. "Oh, Rosalie…"

Finally Rosalie drew a deep, shuddering breath and pulled away from me. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, pushing her hair back and then sitting huddled, her arms wrapped around her knees.

I had to stop myself from bending low and kissing her perfectly bowed lips. Instead I ran a hand through my hair and said softly, "It's okay."

Rosalie said nothing, her chin resting on her knees as she stared at the flames.

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked finally.

A long beat of silence, and then Rosalie shook her head.

"You seem so sad," I ventured.

Rosalie gave a bitter laugh. "Sad…my life is a shambles McCarty."

"But…"

"I know," she interrupted me harshly. "What room do I have to complain? This house, the car, you and Ellen to do all the work, all that money…but what if it's not worth it?" She shifted restlessly. "I'm starting to learn that it all doesn't come free."

I can't say that I really understood what she was talking about. I did think her life was easy, and I didn't know what she meant about paying for all that she had. But then I thought about her husband, and my belly tightened until I felt sick.

"I thought it was everything I wanted," Rosalie whispered, and now she really did sound sad. "But it's not, and I don't know what to do, and…how did it all go so wrong?"

"Maybe you can fix it?" I said tentatively.

"I'm trying. But it doesn't help when he…oh, what does it matter?!" Rosalie shook her head in frustration. "Nothing is ever going to change it. It's the way it is…what about you, McCarty? Do you have a girl?"

The abrupt change of topic left me floundering. How can I have another girl when all I see when I close my eyes is YOU?

At least I didn't say it.

"No," I said quietly. "I don't."

"Make sure you love her," Rosalie said bluntly. "Make sure she's exactly what you want, and that you are what she wants…don't kid yourself that the little things don't mean anything."

I didn't say anything, and after a long time Rosalie said slowly, "I've probably horrified you tonight. I know my behaviour has been completely inappropriate."

"I don't care about appropriate," I said honestly. "I just care about…about you."

For the first time Rosalie looked at me, her eyes dark and fathomless in the flickering firelight and her face bare of pretence, and I saw how much pain she was in. I would have kissed it away from her, traced my lips across that tender skin and soft mouth and kissed her til nothing mattered but each other…

She's MARRIED, Emmett!

My Pa's voice, heavy and disappointed with me, echoed through my mind and I turned away from Rosalie and said awkwardly, "I don't like to think about you being sad, that's all."

Because I honestly thought that she shouldn't be sad, not that angel girl. That face was made for kisses and smiles, not ugly words and tears. She should always be glowing, as bright and shining with beauty and happiness and love as she had been that first day I saw her. She shouldn't be like this, hurting and angry and alone.

But she wasn't mine. Maybe I didn't like him, maybe I suspected that he did more than shout at Rosalie when they fought, maybe I had seen and overheard enough to make me think he was scum…Royce King was still her husband. She had chosen him.

She had chosen wrong.

"I should go," I said quietly, dealing with the fire so that it was safe.

Rosalie twined a long ribbon of hair around her finger and stared at the spiralling curl that it left. "Of course. I've kept you up far too long," she said, slipping back automatically into what I thought of as her 'lady of the manor' tone. "Thank you for your assistance with the fire."

I hesitated at the door, looking back. She was extraordinary in the firelight, hair like molten gold and face like a marble angel as she stared expressionlessly into the flames. She turned her head, and for a long time we stared at each other before she said quietly, " Goodnight, McCarty."

"Goodnight ma'am."

"McCarty, if you have something to say perhaps you should just say it?"

Rosalie stopped by the rose arbour and looked at me with her eyebrows raised. We'd been walking around the garden so I could tell her what I'd been doing and she could tell me what she wanted me to do next, but I'd been a bit distracted.

Laughing, I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm sorry ma'am. It's nothing important, I was just wondering…" Horribly embarrassed, I let my voice trail away.

Rosalie looked curious. "What is it?"

I took a deep breath. "It's my sister's birthday soon. Hannah. She's going to be sixteen, and since I've got some money I wanted to buy her something nice but…well, it should be something useful too, you know, and I thought clothes but, well, girls clothes…So I thought maybe I could ask you…I know it's a huge favour…"

"You want me to help you buy some clothes for your sister?" Rosalie was laughing now.

"Yes," I said sheepishly. "If it's not too big of an imposition that is. I don't even know where to go to buy a dress, and I wouldn't know what one to pick even if I did! And you always look so nice…" I could feel myself blushing and I ran a hand distractedly through my hair.

"I'd love to help," Rosalie said, sounding genuinely pleased. "It will be fun to shop for something someone needs instead of just shopping to spend money!"

If possible I felt more awkward than asking her for help as I said, "Well, that's the thing, I don't have so much money…I mean, I can't buy anything like what you wear…"

"Never mind about that," Rosalie said quickly. "I'll ask Vera. She'll know the best place to go."

Rosalie must have been bored with nothing planned for her day, because before I knew it she had phoned Vera and been told the best store to go to for affordable quality clothes and demanded that I get dressed in something more respectable and get out the car. I felt like I should be finishing my work in the garden before I took off shopping, but Rosalie airily dismissed my concerns.

"I want to go shopping," she said to me with a wicked grin. "And you know I'm not allowed to leave the house without you!"

The shop Vera had directed Rosalie to try was a little further away than her normal stores. When we got there I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as I saw the ladies going in and out. They were wearing nice things, but things that were much more similar to what my Ma and sisters wore at home than the fancy dresses Rosalie seemed to like.

"So tell me about Hannah," Rosalie said briskly, after I'd parked the car and we were walking towards the shop. "What sort of colours and things does she like?"

"Well, she mostly wears a lot of hand-me-downs," I admitted. "But when she gets to pick she likes red, and things with flowers on them. She's not a very fussy person and she doesn't care about what's fashionable – Maggie would, but Hannah doesn't mind so much."

"I like hearing about your family," Rosalie said, unexpectedly. "I like the way they're all so different, and you know them so well."

"When you all live in a four roomed house you don't have much choice but to get to know each other!" I said cheerfully, stopping before the door and putting out a hand to stop Rosalie. "Here," I said to her, digging in my pocket and withdrawing a fistful of crumpled bills and coins. "This is all the money I have, so whatever you pick can only cost this much." I felt my face blazing in humiliation.

"That's fine," Rosalie said, matter-of-factly. For a brief moment her hand cupped mine as she turned my palm down to tip the money into her hand. She tucked it away in her purse. "That will be enough."

"How can I help you?" A saleslady came over almost as soon as we were through the door. I saw her assessing Rosalie's clothes and purse and the diamond rock on her finger, and her smile turned more subservient. "What are you looking for today?"

"We're after a dress for my driver's sister," Rosalie explained. "She's a young girl – turning sixteen – so a nice day dress would be the thing. Something sturdy, but pretty."

"Of course," the saleslady agreed. "If you come over here you might find something you like."

"What size, McCarty?" Rosalie asked, as she worked her way through a rack of dresses, considering each one.

"Umm…" I said vaguely. "I suppose she's not so tall as you."

Rosalie rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Yes, fine, but that's not very helpful! What else? Is she slender or a bigger girl? What kind of waist and bust? I'm not expecting measurements, but we need some idea."

It was turning into one of the more embarrassing days of my life as I stood before Rosalie and tried to describe my sister Hannah. "Well, she's not so tall as you, and not so…" I moved my hands in the vague direction of my chest, trying to imply that I meant breasts without making it seem like I spent a lot of time eyeing off Rosalie's figure. I caught the glint of amusement in Rosalie's eyes. "She's little," I finished firmly.

"Very well," Rosalie said, letting me off the hook. "We'll choose one of the smaller dresses, but it's better to err on the side of it being too big. It's easy to have it taken in, but if it's too small there's not a lot you can do. What's her colouring like? Similar to yours?"

"Yes," I said, relieved that it was an easy question to answer. "We all look pretty much the same, all blue eyes and dark curly hair."

Rosalie held up a red dress with a print of white flowers. I didn't know enough about dresses to really have an opinion, but Rosalie was smiling in a satisfied sort of way so I knew that I was supposed to like this one.

"Perfect," I said obligingly. "Can I afford it?"

"Yes." Holding the dress Rosalie turned and walked quickly to the counter, and by the time I had worked my way through the narrow aisles between the racks she had handed over the cash and was talking to the lady at the register as she wrapped up the dress, and someone else wrote the receipt. Rosalie snatched the receipt and stuffed it into her purse before I could catch a glimpse of it, and I had a sudden suspicion that the money I'd saved up hadn't been enough and she had made up the shortfall.

"I bought some gloves, and had them wrap them with the dress," Rosalie told me cheerfully. "Just something from me too. She can hardly wear a pretty new dress without lovely new gloves to go with it!"

All I could do was agree.