Chapter 23 – Rosalie – How It Looks

The first painful, difficult day of my life in Tennessee stumbled by. My arm hurt, my face ached, and nothing, nothing, was like I was used to. From the outhouse to the food, it was all new and bewildering and if I hadn't had Emmett, with his cheerful smile and gentle guidance, I would have been lost.

Mr McCarty returned around midday, and everyone sat down for a meal. I was given a plate of stew and a thick slice of bread, and for a brief moment there was quiet as everyone began eating.

"I spoke to Henry Allison this morning, Emmett," Mr McCarty said after he'd swallowed and cleared his throat. "He said he'll hire you on when he's got work over the summer."

"Oh, great." Emmett looked at me. "Pa works for the Allisons on the next farm over. I've worked there off and on since I left school."

"He had another offer for you too," Mr McCarty went on. "He's ended up with a bitch of a mare – excuse my language, ladies – that he took in trade from someone who couldn't pay a debt. He was wondering if you wanted to take her and see what you can do with her. He can't pay you, but if you get her to a saleable state he'll give you a cut of the final price."

"I'll be in that," Emmett said eagerly. "It'll be something to do with myself anyway…what do you say the mare is like?"

They fell into a discussion about horses, and I ate the excellent bread and stew with quiet enjoyment. It wasn't like anything Ellen had cooked, but whatever the unfamiliar meat was it was quite tasty, along with the gravy and vegetables.

"It's rabbit," Hannah told me, catching me when I was trying to subtly examine the meat.

"I caught it," Will chimed in. He was nine and an almost exact replica of Emmett. "I do all the snares now that Emmett's gone, and I found a good new place."

I nodded faintly. He seemed so proud, and yet the idea of a fluffy little rabbit being skinned and gutted by this child was turning my stomach. My appetite returned with the sight of the bread pudding and thick, rich cream that I was given for my second course, and Emmett laughed as he took in my face.

"I told you Ma could cook," he said. "And the cream is from the cows out there. With three of them in milk we've got plenty."

"It's very good," I said, a little embarrassed as I was given a second helping without asking for one. "Thank you Miss Adeline."

"You're quite welcome. And now, it's bathtime after lunch so I don't want any of you children to go anywhere. You need to be ready when it's your turn."

The two boys set up a howl immediately, and even Elizabeth looked tragically at her mother. "Not hair though, Mama!"

"Yes, even hair," Miss Adeline said firmly. "It's Saturday afternoon and I'll be taking a clean family to church tomorrow. Rosalie, you can go first I think."

"Oh," I said, a little startled to be organised in this manner. "I…yes. That will be fine."

At least, I thought it would be fine. Unlike the children with their apparent loathing of it, I loved baths. Sitting in the McCarty's shabby little kitchen with the smoke stained ceiling and wall above the range, I thought longingly of my claw-foot tub and a long, deep, scented baths. I hadn't seen a bathroom, but since they were about to bathe obviously there was one somewhere…

And then Emmett dragged a massive tin tub into the kitchen and dropped it down in front of the stove with a crash, and I understood with something akin to horror that there was not going to be a lovely, leisurely scented hot bath here!

Not wanting anyone to see the ridiculous tears that sprang to my eyes I turned and stumbled out onto the front porch. Of all the things I had taken for my granted in my life and that seemed to be vanishing into the past, it was the bathtub that would have brought me to tears!

"Don't you like bath time either?" There was a patter of little footsteps, and Elizabeth stood beside me, looking up with a sympathetic face. "Or is it getting your hair washed? I hate hair washing. But Emmett is the best with combing out tangles so I always ask him to do mine. You can ask him to do yours too."

I wiped my eyes and smiled at her shakily. "Well, that might be a good idea. It's a bit hard with my sore arm you know."

"Oh yes." Elizabeth nodded like she knew all about it. "If you come in Hannah will do your hair in the sink while the tub fills up, and then you get the tub to wash the rest of you."

They slotted me effortlessly into what was obviously a regular routine. Hannah sat me down with my head bent back over the sink and washed my hair, before she wrapped a towel around it and sent me to the tub, which was small and cramped and lukewarm at best. At least they gave me some privacy to wash, something no one else seemed to be afforded- while Hannah was in the tub Maggie was having her hair washed, then while she went into the tub Elizabeth was squawking about her neck hurting and water in her eyes as she bent over the sink. Even Emmett, looking a bit bashful, had his head bent over the sink and washed and somehow managed to cram himself into the tub. Last of all were the other boys, who laughed and yelped as their mother took to them with a scrubbing brush.

Elizabeth was right about Emmett though. When I was sitting on the edge of the bed and wrestling with my hair, struggling to comb it with limited motion in one arm he saw me and came and sat behind me. Without a word he took the comb I'd borrowed from Hannah and worked the tangles from my hair until it was as smooth and soft as silk. Even then he didn't stop, just kept brushing and combing as my hair dried. I let him, so exhausted I could have fallen asleep under his gentle touch.

"I need to talk to you," Emmett murmured finally. He put the comb down and I twisted to face him, seeing his ears go red with embarrassment. "It's about going to church tomorrow."

"Yes?"

"It's just…we'll have to introduce you, and explain to people who you are, and I don't know what you want us to say. Because well…" Emmett was fumbling for words.

"Because it all looks so bad?" I said wryly. "Because either I'm married and I'm carrying my husband's baby and have run away with you, or I'm married and carrying your baby and have run away with you, or I'm unmarried and carrying a bastard baby…either way I'm a scandalous whore."

"Don't say that!" Emmett's voice was uncharacteristically sharp. "Don't ever use that word about yourself!"

"What…whore?" Royce used it all the time Emmett, and if someone calls you something often enough you begin to half believe it.

"Yes. You never were…you're not now. No matter what happens. He's the one who broke the marriage vows, not you." Emmett fiddled with the comb.

"I tried to keep them, but it didn't do much good in the end, did it?" I said wearily. "My marriage is still over, for all intents and purposes. I don't care what people will say, and I don't want to tell them anything. Just introduce me as Rosalie and let them wonder."

Brave words that I wasn't sure I could live up to when it came to it!

Church was obviously central to the McCarty family and their community. The family woke early and everyone dressed in what was clearly their best. I was momentarily gratified to see Hannah wearing the red printed dress Emmett and I had bought for her.

I put on my prettiest flared skirt, which sat nicely under my belly, and chose a matching pink blouse that barely buttoned over it. It suddenly struck me that I'd had an entire maternity wardrobe due to be delivered at home in Rochester, but here I was four states away and with no guarantee that any of my clothes would fit me tomorrow. What was I supposed to wear?

Hannah saw my stricken face and mistakenly thought it was about my hair, which was impossible to do with my arm in a sling. She offered to do it for me, which she did with surprising skill, even managing to hide some of the bruising on my face. Once I had my hat on at an angle you would barely be able to tell, if I dipped my head a little, that I'd been hurt.

Emmett offered me his arm on the walk, despite the giggling of the smaller children. I accepted- the walk was long, my shoes were high, and the road was definitely not the paved city path I was used to.

I was glad for more reasons than just his help with my balance though, when we turned into the churchyard and I still had his comforting warm and strength beside me. Like all close-knit communities the members of the church congregation were familiar with each other's lives and Emmett's return and the arrival of a stranger were both matters of interest. Add on the fact that the stranger arrived with Emmett, wore sapphires in her ears and at her neck, had her arm in a sling and a very obvious pregnant belly under her expensive clothes…well I could hardly blame them for watching me with open fascination.

"Emmett old man, you're back!" A tall, lanky young man in a dusty suit came loping over, smiling from under a neat moustache. "What happened with the job? Did they discover you only learned to drive on the way up?" He looked at me and blushed red. "Excuse me for not introducing myself, ma'am, I'm Albert Clements."

"Albie, this is Rosalie," Emmett told him, squeezing my hand a little tighter. "She's staying with us for a bit. And the job didn't work out…could you really see me spending the rest of my life wearing a monkey suit?"

Albie snorted. "I wondered about that." He looked shiftily to the side. "I suppose one of those big mouthed brothers or sisters of yours might've mentioned something…?"

Emmett's brows lowered. "About you and Hannah?"

"Uh yeah…you're not too mad? I mean, you must have known I was sweet on her, and you didn't say anything…"

"I'm not going to say much now," Emmett sighed. "I've been told very firmly that I can just keep my nose out of it! But I'll say this- I'll cheerfully break your neck for her if you ever do anything…"

"Yeah, sure," Albie muttered, but I saw his quick glance at me and the very raised eyebrows he sent Emmett's way and I turned scarlet and squirmed with mortification. Clearly everyone was assuming that I was some stray girl pregnant with Emmett McCarty's bastard baby…I felt a surge of admiration for Miss Adeline who was dealing with this apparent 'shame' with equanimity.

Even the minister had the same assumption. After the service he took up a post near the door and greeted the congregation as they left. Emmett and I were one of the last ones out of the door, and the elderly minister shook my hands warmly and welcomed me to the church, giving me a rather effusive blessing that quiet surprised me. I was even more surprised when he turned to Emmett and gave him a sharp rap with his knuckles.

"As for you, Emmett McCarty, it's ashamed I am of you! Your parents such good churchgoers and upright, honest folks and you go and disgrace them! I prayed for you to manage temptation and avoid sin in the big city, I thought after all your years of Sunday school and having such good guidance at home…but it seems we were wrong! Look at what you've done…Now, we've got to sort out the mess. It won't be hard, but you'll be a proper man and do your duty. I'll be expecting a call from the two of you during the week and we'll be arranging a wedding…"

"Oh sir no, you've got it all wrong!" Emmett gabbled, his ears fire engine red and holding his hands up in surrender.

I couldn't stay. I could feel laughter bubbling up inside me, wild hysterical laughter that I wouldn't be able to control if I let it go, so I just turned on my heels and hurried away. So much to laugh at! Emmett's comical look of shock, the idea of this tiny, elderly minister so thoroughly bullying the big, brawny Emmett, the thought of my mother's face if she knew what all these people were saying about me and yet I didn't care…

I don't care. It's true. Whatever they think of me…it doesn't matter. I know the truth, Emmett knows the truth, his family know the truth. And they understand. Everyone else…what does their opinions matter?

It was like a revelation. The first time in my entire life that 'what everyone else will think' wasn't one of my foremost concerns. For the first time in my life I began to understand that what other people thought of me didn't have to dictate the way I lived, and that it was more important that I do what felt right to me.