Thank you once more for your kind words. Thad: from his perspective, he offered her his heart on a platter, which she repaid by dumping him, accepting another man's proposal a day after he left, and not writing to him in over two years. Thad is unlikely to hand over his heart again, without some effort on her part. Rose ….yes, you are all quite right, Rose needs to find her gumption. But be careful of what you wish for! We (and Thad) may get more than we bargained for. :)
It was eight o'clock when Rose came into the kitchen. The brightly-lit room was empty except for Thad, dressed in riding garb, handling a tea-pot with its assorted utensils.
When she saw him, she thought he looked as if he had, after all, slept no better than she. Her heart gave a tiny flutter of hope.
He looked up when she entered. "Good morning," she said, softly.
His gaze swept over her face, taking in her pallor, and the bluish shadows under her eyes.
"Good morning," he said. She wanted to wrap herself in his voice like a blanket. "Tea?" Tea was something he was particular about, and always prepared himself. She watched as he ran the amber liquid through a sieve, to catch out any remaining leaves.
"Yes. Thank you."
He poured her a cup, and handed it to her, along with cream and sugar. Again, a miniscule flutter of elation, that he remembered how she took it. Stop it, she told herself severely. He's offered you tea. Not asked you to marry him.
She added cream, and sugar, and slowly stirred her cup. Strangely enough, the silence between them was not uncomfortable. He sat down across from her at the large table, drinking his own beverage slowly.
"Where is everyone?" she finally asked.
"Your father and ….mine, have gone with Chase and the boys for a walk around the Ranch." Something like amusement briefly flickered in his eyes. "Perry appointed himself head tour-guide, so I'm not sure they will ever be back. Scarlett, Ella, and Charlotte are still sleeping. And I ….. am here."
She gave a faint smile in return. "Are you now."
"Yes. Shocking, I know. Perhaps, if I apply myself sufficiently, I can shock you even further." He twisted his lips into a smirk. "What are your plans for today?"
Her heart-beat accelerated to the point where she was afraid she would faint. Pull yourself together. Any simpering school-girl would put on a better show than you.
"I haven't made any yet," she answered, with what she hoped was perfect nonchalance. "Why ….why do you ask?" She hoped he hadn't noticed her slight stammer.
He gave her another one of his searching glances. "I was thinking of taking you down to the Reservation. There is a young woman - the wife of one of my men - whom their Healer is concerned about."
Her hopes, which had cautiously groped up a small hill or two, now plunged to new depth. "Oh," she said. Then she roused herself, and the love-sick school-girl was thrust firmly aside. Only the doctor remained. "What symptoms is he seeing?"
"She is expecting a baby in a few months. He says she has been …spotting blood."
Rose would have smiled at just how much he knew about the gynecological concerns of a Native girl. Thad had always been well informed about his men, and their dependents. In addition, she knew he employed quite a few men from the Reservation at his Ranch, to the displeasure of some of his other workers, and to the mockery of the surrounding towns.
Years ago, when she was still feeling brave, she had asked him about it.
"Why do you hire them, if the others get so mad at you?'
"Here's a secret about life, Rose," he had replied, grinning at her. "If you pay well, and genuinely seem to care about whatever principle it is you're espousing, you will be able to get away with much that you couldn't get away with otherwise."
"And what is …your principle?"
"That all people are created equal," he said. "It is my one, genuine weakness. Always cultivate a weakness or two, Rosey," he'd added, pulling her curl. "Makes you seem human. People can say, "oh, poor Thad Watling. Has all these funny ideas in his head. But he pays good money, and he means well. And after all, what can we expect, seeing where he's from?"
He winked at her, and she laughed. "Intriguing theory, Cousin Thad. How did you come to adopt it?"
He smiled widely, and she was too young to catch the hint of bitterness hidden within. "Initially, it was entirely for my own benefit. After all, I had to find a way to assure myself I was as good, if not better, than your noble lot." He'd winked at her again. "Also, I grew up….amongst a lot of different races in New Orleans. If you get to know people, Rosey – really know them- it becomes hard, if not impossible, to see them as less then yourself, merely because their skin has a different shade."
For a brief moment, the shadow of the girl he had loved, and lost, stood between them. She wondered if he had ever loved anyone like that again. Or if he ever would. Then she had asked herself why it mattered.
"I understand," she said, softly.
"Yes. I know you do."
He'd adroitly turned the discussion to "The Origin of Species", which he had given her to read last week, but the subject had remained on her mind for some time.
"Spotting late in the pregnancy?" she now repeated. "That is concerning, especially if she is close to her delivery. Has anyone besides the …Healer looked at her?" She did not want to say, a real doctor, as she did not know how defensive he would be regarding the traditional healer, or indeed how qualified that person was.
"I haven't been able to find a white doctor willing to examine her," Thad said, and his voice turned cold. "At least not one worth having."
Rose sighed. It was unfortunate, but she could well believe it. Not too many of her profession with a reputation to lose would be willing to treat an Indian woman. "I see," she said, evenly. "Of course I will be happy to look at her. Fortunately, I brought my instrument bag along in my luggage just in case. " She looked at him again, this time more thoughtfully.
"What is it?"
"Prepare yourself to hear that I won't be able to do much. There are a couple of things that can cause spotting in the second or third trimester, and not many of them are good. She may need a Cesarean section, which is something I've never performed without supervision, and would never dare to try in anything other than a hospital setting. The risk is just too great."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said. "If you'll change, I'll have the horses ready in half an hour." At her questioning glance, he added, guessing her thoughts, "I have a filly for you that I think will answer our purpose. She isn't a Paso, but she's superbly trained, and very smart, and gentle. I've had her with me at the shooting range, and she never twitched, even when three guns went off next to her head simultaneously."
She appeared satisfied. "I'm not afraid, particularly …but you know how Daddy is about us, and horses."
"Understandable, given what happened."
She merely nodded, and turned to go back to her room. Despite herself, she couldn't contain the renewed flutter of elation in her chest at the thought of going riding with him. Be sensible, she chided herself. He merely wants my medical expertise. He isn't asking me to come because he wants to spend time with me.
~~oo~~
As she walked back towards her room, she almost bumped into a very sleepy Charlotte.
"Sorry," Rose mumbled, her mind elsewhere.
"Oh!" said Charlotte, somewhat disconcerted. "Can I talk to you, Rose?"
"Of course. I'm changing to go riding. Come along, and we'll talk."
Charlotte followed Rose into her room, sat down on her bed, and watched as she changed. "I wanted to say….about last night …."
"Don't refine upon it," Rose said, with feigned lightness. "I know you were only trying to help."
"He flustered me," Charlotte said, darkly. "Don't think I'm in love with him, because I'm not! A man like that is too much ….of everything for the likes of me to handle. But when he looked at me like that, I…" she stopped, aware that she was most likely making a bad situation worse once again.
To her relief, Rose only laughed. "Dear Charlotte. You're not the first woman Thad has …flustered. And you'll probably not be the last," she added, almost to herself.
"Are we ok though?" Charlotte said, worriedly. "Not that I would dream I could set myself up as a rival to you, but I'd be mortified if you thought I'd even try such a thing!"
"I would never think that of you," Rose said swiftly, hugging her cousin. "Don't worry about it."
She had finished putting her Turkish trousers over the leather riding breeches, and was now pulling a black riding jacket over a white shirt with a ruffled, v-neck collar.
"You should wear your other jacket," Charlotte giggled, much more at ease now that she had said her piece, and been forgiven. "The one that accentuates your figure so well. That would make his eyes pop out of his head!"
"Hah," said Rose. "And remind him of the Wilkes, and everything else that happened that day? I rather think not."
"He wouldn't be reminded if you wore that. He wouldn't have a mind left to be reminded with," said Charlotte. The two girls collapsed on the bed in helpless giggles. It felt good to mock love, and men, and the gravity of things.
~~oo~~
On her way out, Rose passed Belle Watling in the parlor.
"Mornin'," Belle said, somewhat coolly, eyeing her attire. Rose found herself wishing that she had put on the other jacket, after all. Just because. "Where're you off to?" It came out sounding more like an interrogation than friendly curiosity.
"Going riding with Thad," Rose said, without expanding on the reason. It felt absurdly good to worry that glowering woman, who seemed to think of her as a serpent Thad had failed to crush beneath his boot. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to let my parents know, when they ask for me. I'm not sure when we'll be back."
There, she thought, with satisfaction, as a flash of real fear crossed Belle's face. Then she sobered. If only his mother really had some cause for concern.
~~oo~~
Thad was waiting for her in front of the Ranch, flanked by his grey gelding, and a small white mare. He took her instrument case from her, and placed it in his left saddlebag.
Rose scanned the mare quickly, noting how quietly she stood, only occasionally swatting for flies. She was lightweight and dainty, standing at little more than fourteen hands, with an arched neck, and a high-set, plumaged tail. She wore Western tack, which was somewhat distinct from the English riding tack favored in Charleston; with a high saddle 'horn' used for tying ropes, and a deeper seat.
"Pretty," Rose said, meaning the horse. She measured the length of the stirrups against her underarms, and adjusted both sides to fit her. "Interesting head." The horse's nose curved inwards, then outwards again at an unusually sharp angle.
"She's part Arabian," he said, briefly, watching her until she finished. "Related to the Godolphin Arabian, if that means anything to you. Like I said, very smart - and very gentle. Leg up?"
She nodded, grabbed the pummel of the saddle, and flexed her left leg at the knee. He took hold of it, and boosted her into the saddle. For the fraction of a second, his hand seemed to linger on her leg.
"She's trained Western Style. I hope you haven't forgotten."
She threw him a look, grabbed the rains with one hand, and nudged the horse forward, taking her through her paces. Like any well-trained Western horse, the mare changed direction with nothing more than a light pressure of the reins against her neck.
Seconds later, he, too, was astride, and followed her. For fifteen minutes, they merely rode without speaking, and Rose allowed herself to pretend it was five years ago, and they were simply taking a ride by the Lake in fine weather. Before everything had become so complicated.
He trailed her for a period of time, most likely to evaluate both the horse, and her own prowess- before letting the grey gelding fall in step beside her. His own mount was a very large American Saddlebred, which made him tower above her even more than usual.
"You're too high up. I'll sprain my neck," she said, with an attempt to infuse humor.
He looked at her through disconcerting, half-lowered lids. "Only if you want to look at me."
No, Charlotte was certainly not the last woman he would fluster, she told herself, angry that once more she could think of nothing to say.
They rode through the gentle hills and densening trees, before descending into a dusty valley, and the first houses of the small town. The horses trotted side-by-side down Main Street, which was only moderately filled with people. Another ten minutes later, they had already left the last houses behind them.
"Not Charleston, is it," he grinned.
"No," she agreed, softly. "But I can't tell you how happy I am to be home."
"What exactly is home?" he asked, idly. "Texas? The West? My Ranch?'
Wherever you are, thought Rose. Aloud she said, "All of it."
"I've always found Charleston to be very suffocating," he agreed, amiably.
"Always?" she asked. "Where you there more than once?"
He gave her an odd look, almost as if she had caught him out. "I do business in a lot of places, Rose."
She accepted the explanation without comment.
Around the bend, the first run-down shacks of the Reservation came into view. It was a sobering sight. A few men greeted them, as they passed by the wooden shacks that made up most of the dwellings, and stables. A few people kept poultry, and pigs.
Eventually, Thad pulled up beside a log cabin under a group of pine trees. He slung ropes over the necks of the horses, tying them to a post by the door. He retrieved her instrument set from his saddle bag, setting it down. Then, he turned to Rose, holding out his hands.
She hesitated. Then, swinging her right leg over the saddle, she slid down, allowing him to catch her waist, and break her descent. She stared up at him. His hands were still encircling her waist.
"Thad…"
He hadn't stirred, or removed his hands from her waist. He smelled like leather, and sweat, and horses.
She let her gaze drop, her nerves failing her in face of this unexpected proximity. "Where ….where is the patient?"
His hands dropped to his side, and he took a step back. "This way." He ducked under a narrow entrance way.
In the half-darkness, on a series of overlapping carpets, sat a young woman, clearly in the later stages of pregnancy. Rose estimated her to be no older than herself. Beside her stood an older man, presumably her husband, and a much younger one, whom Thad introduced as the Tribes' Healer. A lad of perhaps sixteen.
At her raised brows, Thad added, "he was the acolyte, until his teacher was taken by the influenza, only a few months ago."
Rose grimaced, and nodded. She watched Thad speak softly in a language she had heard many times in the past, but could not understand. The girl's dark eyes lifted, and then fell. Rose asked for boiling water, which was already cooking on the hearth.
"She will need to lay down," Rose said, gently, so as not to startle her. "And I will need an interpreter. Preferably a woman."
"I'm afraid I'm it," Thad said. "And her husband will be less than thrilled if I stay while you examine her." Indeed, the other man, who seemed to have some understanding of English, had started to scowl.
"You can stand in the doorway with your back turned to us," Rose said, reasonably. "He can stand beside you, to make sure her modesty is preserved. At any rate, her skirts will do that quite nicely."
The girl allowed herself to be led into the small, adjourning bedroom, and lay down on her cot. Rose unpacked her instruments, creating a rough theatre from white cloth. She had brought, amongst other things, a modified Sims speculum, and a stethoscope, although most of her information would be gained from the history.
Fifteen minutes later, she was done. She had the woman dress herself, and, after re-sterilizing her instruments, bade Thad to translate a series of questions regarding the start, amount, frequency and length of the bleeding.
"What do you think?" he asked, after they had finished.
Rose looked at the girl. "Does she …want to know what is going on?" she asked.
"Not if it's bad news," Thad said. "Delivering bad news is to a patient is considered a direct injury to the spirits. Which would worsen her condition." She nodded, and gestured him outside. The young Healer followed. He had, by this time, risen higher in Rose's esteem. During the physical exam, he had stayed out of her way entirely, and not tried to use this opportunity to jockey for position, or turn the young girl's condition into a battle of strength - as many of her own colleagues would have done.
"I'm afraid my news isn't good. I believe her placenta has grown over the opening of the uterus. What we call a placenta previa. Unusual in a primigravida, especially one so young, and as far as I can tell she isn't expecting multiples. But strange things do happen in medicine."
"What does that mean for her?"
"If I'm right – and I think I am - she is unlikely to survive a vaginal delivery. She needs a Cesarean section. And I can't do one here."
"What do you recommend?"
"That she be taken to Houston. Where the operation can be performed by a trained surgeon, under anesthesia, and sterile conditions. There are now surgical techniques – like the transverse incision to minimize bleeding, and uterine suturing –that will greatly increase her odds of survival." She sighed. "If it were a year from now ….after I've had some training at the Women's College in Philadelphia…."
Thad threw her an odd look. "Is that where you're planning on going next?"
She flushed, and nodded. "Yes."
He seemed lost in thought. "It will be difficult to move her. Even more difficult to find a hospital that will accept someone like her as a patient. The Jim Crow laws mean business, even in this State."
She cast him a worried look. "I know. Daddy gets around them when we travel by buying all of our servants First Class tickets. They don't make segregated railway cars for First Class, so they have to allow them to stay with us. But for a hospital …...what can we do?" She was not used to dealing with such issues in England.
"The same principle applies. Money talks louder than birth …..or race, in this case. I will cable my contacts for names as to whom to bribe. Or if it's urgent, I might go down to Houston myself. How much time do we have?"
"I think she's about thirty-two weeks along ….if she kept the baby for another month, it would be ideal for lung development. But the sooner we get her to a hospital, the better. She isn't spotting right now, but that can change at any time. And if she does go into labor ….well, there'll be no time to lose. In the meantime ….complete bed-rest. She can't lift anything. And of course, no…..marital relations."
He nodded. She watched as he turned, and talked to the Healer, in a low voice. The Healer seemed to be in agreement. They both went back inside, and from the raised voices, Rose gathered it was the husband who was resisting. Eventually, Thad came back outside.
"The Healer says to let him deal with her husband," Thad said, with a wry grin. "Frankly, I'm only too happy to do so. Her husband is a good man, but stubborn as a mule. He doesn't like the idea of his wife staying for weeks in a strange city, and who can blame him." He added, thoughtfully, "I like that young lad. Has a good head on his shoulders, and really cares about his people. Open to new ideas in ways not many of us are."
"I agree," Rose said, softly. "Can her husband go with her?"
"If I give him paid leave, yes. And stop looking at me like that." Thad started counting on his fingers. "Room and board for the girl. Probably a nurse. Paid vacation for the husband. Not to mention whatever bribes I will have to pay to recruit a surgeon, and secure her a place in the hospital." He shook his head in mock horror. "This will be one hell of an expensive baby."
She smiled at him, for the first time, without any thought of herself. "Thank you."
He shook his head again. "It is I who must thank you. Despite my pretense at grumbling, I much prefer a live mother and child over a senseless tragedy."
He boosted her back on her horse. She shot a surreptitious glance at him. Although he seemed much less tense, his demeanor was still not in the least lover-like. And time was running out.
She nudged the horse forward, until it fell in step beside his. She waited until she caught Thad's eye, and tried fluttering down her lashes. Blushing came naturally – and then she looked back up, trying to fasten her gaze to his lips. It was difficult to look consistently at any one thing while on horseback. She cast her eyes back down.
"Are you all right, Rose?" When she looked back up, he added, sympathetically, "The fine dust gets into my eyes, too." She stared back at him, and caught a strange gleam. Almost like suppressed laughter. At any rate, he did not suddenly seem overtaken by passion for her. She sighed, internally. As she had feared, her mother's methods only worked as an extension of her mother's own vibrant persona.
He was still looking at her. "Rose. If you want to know something, all you need to do is …..ask me." At her flush, he twisted his lips, and nudged the grey horse into a trot.
The white mare followed.
~~oo~~
When they returned home, it seemed like everyone had been lounging by the front of the house to catch their arrival. Thad quickly packed a small suitcase, and left twenty minutes later to catch the next train into Houston. He said, if he was successful, he would return later that night, and they could arrange to have the girl moved as early as the following morning. Rose was both relieved and disappointed to see him go.
She could feel his mother's calculating eyes, watching her, but she remained silent.
Her own mother, during their afternoon stroll, was much more direct. "Rose, Darling. Tell me - now that you had him alone for hours …what use did you make of your time?" It was unthinkable for the former Belle of three counties that a man could be in the presence of a woman –one who looked like the spitting image of her younger self -and not propose.
"I ….tried, mother," Rose said, wincing a little. "Perhaps Thad is ….a bit different from your former beaux." She envied her mother her conviction of her own charms, which went a long way towards confirming them.
"Nonsense," Scarlett said, firmly. "He's a man, and all men are fundamentally alike!" She shook her head at her daughter. "However, they are not mind-readers, and all too often don't understand what isn't spelled out for them, the poor dears! And don't think you can catch him with all your medical talk! You don't want him to see you as another man. What you want, is for him to see you as a woman. Remember what I told you about gumption?" That was all the encouragement a loving, but proper, mother could permit herself to give to a daughter.
~~oo~~
Much later that night, Rose slipped from her bed, and walked slowly down many dark corridors to Thad's room. Her own chamber faced the driveway, and she had heard him return just before midnight. She wore a soft, clinging white nightgown that accentuated her curves, her wild dark hair cascading over her shoulders.
Gumption, she said to herself. Then, before her courage could fail her, she pushed open the door.
Some artistic license with geography was taken. LMS – the "fluttering attempt" was for you. Little Rose here is terribly inexperienced, and grasping at straws, even though she knows better. Do I ever remember how that felt. :)