A Blessed Song for Their Love by Olivia Haywood
Chapter Eleven
Thomas stood looking out over the cattle, his hands on his hips. They were down more than half the bulls and as many cows. The herds were thinning to a worrying degree. Deep down he knew that he was to blame for this, partially, if not almost entirely.
His gambling, drinking, and general lack of interest in the running of the ranch over the past six months had forced his father to make drastic decisions. Decisions that he was now attempting to ake up for.
Over the past few weeks, Thomas had been endeavoring to better himself and the ranch. The image of the drunken man in front of the saloon plagued his conscience, more than anything he never wanted his son to see him in that light. He hadn’t touched a drop since his conversation with Ezrah Gideon.
His mind wondered to Rosaline, and what she would think of him if she saw him lying drunk in the street. Why did he care what she thought of him? He reasoned with himself that her opinion of him mattered because she was the woman who would be raising his child.
He turned his thoughts back to the ranch and what needed to be done to bring everything back up to scratch. This was the future and legacy he would be leaving for his son. He didn’t want it to be tattered or tarnished in any way. The memory of his mother and his wife and the man he used to be, was a big part of that legacy.
The fields closer to the house seemed in decent shape, it was the herds to the back of the ranch that took the brunt of it. They were sparse at best. He’d had time this morning to look at the ranch itself. The barn needed repairs, the fences needed fixing, the roof was sagging, and a fresh coat of paint wouldn’t do any harm.
The laundry was missing a few windows that had presumably been knocked out in a storm. The only building that wasn’t in a state of disrepair was the coop. The memory of the previous day brought a smile to his lips.
He couldn’t deny that Rosaline’s scream had rattled him to the core, fearing the worst as he had set off at a run. His heart had been pounding like a drum when he had reached the coop. But the thought of her bewildered eyes and the rooster strutting along the fence made him laugh to himself.
There was a growing warmth for her in his heart. He may never love another woman again, but a warm friendship seemed like a likely prospect for the future. Robbie also seemed to be taking a liking to her. He had been a bit startled the previous day when he saw his son in Rosaline’s arms. The boy hadn’t let anyone carry him like that since...
The galloping of hooves made him turn to see his father approaching on horseback.
Arthur stopped by the fence and began to dismount.
Thomas noticed how he took his time to remove his feet from the stirrups and painfully swung his leg over the saddle before carefully lowering himself to the ground.
Thomas frowned. “Are you alright Pa?” He asked with concern.
Arthur made his way over to Thomas without saying a word. He folded his arms and leaned against the fence, surveying the thinning herd. “I didn’t see you at breakfast this morning.”
“I wanted to come and check the rest of the herd,” he said, looking over the livestock. I only managed to take stock of the corrals closer to the house yesterday.” He mimicked his father’s posture and rested his arms on the fence. We’ve lost quite a few of the prized bulls.”
“There wasn’t much else to be done. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Thomas felt a pang of guilt at the honesty in his father’s voice. It wasn’t meant to hurt him. Arthur Stratton believed in telling things as they were, and never sugar-coated the truth. He did not possess a dishonest bone in his body.
“There was the usual running costs to be paid, food for the house, and fodder for the animals. Then the debt collectors that came knocking in your absence.”
Thomas drew back in shock. “Pa, I honestly didn’t know, I thought they were only coming after me.”
“You had your own pain to deal with.” He winced as he shifted his weight on the post but kept his eyes on the farmhands herding the cattle in the distance, refusing to acknowledge his pain.
“You’d tell me if there was something wrong?” Thomas asked without looking at his father. If his father had hidden his debt collectors’ visits from him, what else had he not been willing to share?
“Just tired is all. There’s been a lot to do around here, and as you’ve undoubtedly seen on your rounds, there’s plenty of areas that have been neglected. I couldn’t see to Robbie, the house, and all of the ranch.”
It pained Thomas to see his father looking so tired. How had he not seen the lines that were now etched into his face? Growing up, his father had always been the strongest and most independent man that Thomas had ever known. They all relied on him. “Have you seen the doctor?”
“I don’t see the point, he’s going to tell me what I already know. I’m getting old,” he smiled wanly.
Thomas straightened and lifted a boot against the wooden post of the pen. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around enough, Pa. I’m trying to do better. I know that’s not going to fix what has already happened, but I’m trying.”
Arthur turned to his son and placed a rough hand on his shoulder. “Trying is the best place to start,” he said, and his eyes were bright and hopeful.
Thomas looked away. He didn’t feel he deserved the proud look he saw in his father’s eyes. His anger grew towards God. All of this was his own fault, his own misgivings and failings as a son and a father. Why did God keep punishing the people around him? First his wife and then his mother. The thought of his father being ill was too much to bear. But perhaps he was imagining things and his father was just tired. It was almost enough to make him pray that it was so.
***
Thomas entered the house and made his way down the passage towards the study. He was weary from his talk with his father. They had stood together for a while by the cattle and talked of all the plans to bring the ranch back up to scratch. A moment to himself was all he needed right now in the quiet of his study.
He frowned. As he neared the study, he thought he could hear humming. Entering the study he found Rosaline on her hands and knees with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She was humming as she scrubbed the carpet.
His attention was immediately drawn to the guitar that was laying on the desk, no longer where it usually stood against the shelf. “Who said you could come in here?” he roared in anger.
Rosaline’s head snapped up in surprise. “I’m cleaning the carpet.”
“I can see what you are doing, I asked who gave you permission to come into my study? You have no right to go through my things!”
She came to her feet and began to apologize as she had been accustomed to do in the past. “I’m sorry...”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “You should ask before you go poking around in people’s things and rummaging through their property.” Thomas stormed over the sodden carpet, leaving muddied boot prints behind.
He had his back turned to her as he examined his guitar. “You can leave,” he barked and dismissed her attempts at an apology.
“Thomas Stratton, you listen to me right now!”
He turned around in surprise at the tone of her voice. Her bright green eyes were flashing with anger and her fists were clenched at her sides.
“I apologize if this room was meant to be private. Had I known that, I would never have come in here. But you do not get to shout at me like some tyrant!” Her nostrils flared. “I was just cleaning the house and noticed the carpet needed to be scrubbed.”
He clenched his jaw in anger but let her continue.
“I’m here to clean your house and look after your son, so kindly refrain from getting angry at me for doing just that.”
Robbie began to cry in his crib, startled by the sudden shouts.
“If you will excuse me, Sir,” She addressed him sarcastically. “Buena has gone into town to see her husband, and your son needs me,” She turned to leave and called over her should before she stomped off down the hall. “Even if you don’t!”
Thomas stood staring at her retreating figure. Rosaline Berry had seemed so agreeable and compliant at first, he hadn’t realized she had a temper. He looked down at the muddied footprints he’d left over the carpet. His anger subsided.
She’d called him a tyrant and addressed him as Sir. Was that really how she saw him.
Something about Rosaline seeing him in that light bothered him deeply. A few hours ago he’d thought they were doing okay. He leaned back against his desk and let out a loud sigh as he ran his hand through his hair.
He’d have to apologize to her. She was right. It wasn’t fair to take his anger out on her. Rosaline was holding up her end of the agreement, she was cleaning the house and looking after his son. It was he who was falling short.
Why had he reacted so strongly without thinking? Seeing the guitar his wife had given him out of place had blinded him with anger. He needed that memory to be just his, untouched by others. How will she know if you don’t tell her? He felt a small voice inside nudging his conscience.
Shaking his head at his folly, he pushed himself off his desk. I can’t leave it like this, I have to apologize. Thomas made his way down the hallway to Robbie’s room.
Rosaline was rocking in the chair with Robbie on her lap when Thomas quietly stepped into the room.
Robbie was dozing peacefully against her chest, his cheeks flushed from crying.
He waited a few minutes but Rosaline didn’t look up at him. Thomas quietly walked over the crib and stood a few steps away from her so that he could talk quietly, not wanting to wake his son again. “The guitar was a present from my wife,” he said in a soft voice.
Rosaline looked up with understanding in her eyes, her lips forming a small O.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He quietly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Nobody has touched that guitar since she passed. Even I haven't...” His words trailed away as a lump caught in his throat.
“You don’t have to say anymore,” she whispered gently. Taking care not to wake Robbie, she pushed herself up from the chair and carefully walked over to the crib and laid him down.
Thomas watched as she smiled down at his son, whisps of auburn hair escaping from her bun. He bent over next to her and gently stroked Robbie’s soft curls. “It wasn’t fair for me to yell at you.”
She leant over and gently placed her hand over his where it was holding the side of the crib. “I understand,” she whispered.
Without thinking, Thomas took his other hand placed it over hers. They stood there in silence for a few minutes as he held her hand between his. It felt natural and right as they stared down at Robbie breathing deeply in his sleep.
Thomas felt her pulse jumping as his thumb gently brushed her wrist. The feeling made him acutely aware of his own heartbeat, and he could smell a hint of the lemon oil he had come to associate with her.
Subconsciously, he leant a bit closer. Her hair smelt like the sun from her morning chores on the ranch. Thomas closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, his chest pressing up against her shoulder.
***
Thomas climbed off his horse and led the pale brown stallion to its stall. One of the ranch hands was waiting for him and took the reins after bidding him a good evening. After his discussion with Rosaline in the nursery, he had saddled his horse and gone for a ride.
The sun had gone down as he rode, so he made his way through the dark back to the house. The candles in the kitchen were lit and he could hear lively conversation coming from inside. The house had been quiet for the past few months. Dinners usually ended with everyone going their own way. Thomas to his study, Buena and Robbie to the nursery, and Arthur to his room.
He reached the door and paused to survey the scene. Crossing his arms he leaned against the doorjamb.
His father and Buena were sitting next to each other at the table with cups of tea in their hands. Rosaline was sitting on the floor with Robbie in front of her, playing with his wooden blocks.
As he watched, Rosaline built a tower that Robbie immediately knocked over with his chubby arms amidst squeals of delight. It warmed his heart to hear his son giggle again.
The others were laughing heartily at the scene. Rosaline’s laugh was light and melodious as she looked up and smiled at him from the floor, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Her beautiful smile tugged at his heart. Thomas told himself that it was relief he felt seeing his family laugh again after months of nothing but quiet and sadness and misery.
“Thomas, I was wondering where you were. Come in and sit, I kept your food warm,” Buena said when she noticed him standing there.
Thomas wanted to sit, but declined and excused himself to go the study. Somehow it felt disloyal to his wife if he joined in the mirth.
He trudged down the hall to the study and sat at his desk. Rosaline had been true to her word and not come back into the room. His dirty prints were still caked into the carpet.
Every part of him wanted to saddle his horse and take the path that lead to the saloon. It was his way of dealing with the feelings he so desperately tried to hide from.
It had been the first place he had thought of after his fight with Rosaline, the bottle calling his name in a way that was almost too hard to ignore. He was about to act on it when he heard his son giggling from down the hall and Rosaline’s melodious laugh mingling with his father’s.
He sat back down and retrieved a leather-bound book from the top desk drawer, picked up a pen, and began to write.
***
Rosaline was humming Amazing Grace the following morning as she laid the breakfast on the table.
Thomas watched from the doorway and noticed that, even though she must have brushed her hair up into a bun no more than an hour earlier, there were loose tendrils already hanging out. He liked the way her hair was always slightly wild with a mind of her own. He was coming to realize it was an outward reflection of the spirit within.
“Oh,” Rosaline blushed when she turned around and saw him staring at her. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Thomas smiled reassuringly. “I was up already, you didn’t wake me.
“The coffee is almost done.”
“Don’t rush.” He unfolded his arms and made his way over to the breakfast table, taking a chair and sitting. “I was hoping I could have a private word with you.”
Thomas saw a worried look cross her face. She wiped her hands on the cream apron she was wearing and took a seat across from him, interlacing her fingers in front of her on the table.
“I was wanted to apologize to you once again for how I treated you last night”
Rosaline smiled in relief. “I think we can just let that go, Thomas. We all act without thinking now and then.
“It still doesn’t excuse my behavior. If we are going to run his household together we need to be able to communicate, especially when it comes to Robbie, I want you to be able to trust me and come to me when you need anything.”
She unfolded her slender fingers and relaxed a little more in her chair. Her shoulders lowered a bit as she let out a breath.
Thomas averted his gaze and examined one of the cups on the table in front of him. He didn’t like the fact that he was noticing more and more how beautiful she was. It felt disloyal to Mary.
He cleared his throat and cast about for a different topic to discuss with her. “You haven’t told me much about your parents yet?”
Rosaline’s full lips parted slightly in surprise.
Is it that surprising to her that I want to get to know her more? Does she see me as being that cold? he wondered to himself.
“My parents were Elizabeth and Anthony Berry. They died when I was still very young, but the memories I have of them are happy ones,” she said, her lips curled up into a faint smile. “They showed me how to love and how to follow God with all my heart.”
“What did your father do for a living?” The way she spoke in her gentle voice made him want to know more about her.
“My father worked down at the docks, doing any jobs he could. Sometimes he left to work in the mines for months at a time. He was a hardworking man. I was around my mother more often, but he made an effort to spend time with both of us whenever he was home.”
“I can see through you that your father was a hardworking man. You never shy away from any hard work, and your chores around the house are always done. That speaks of a good upbringing to me.” He examined her to see if she misunderstood what he was saying. “Please don’t think that I’m spying or checking up on you. I only meant that you work hard and I appreciate that,” he explained as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
Rosaline let out a light laugh. “I didn’t think that for a moment. I appreciate that you notice my efforts.” She shyly tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s always nice when hard work is appreciated.”
“How is Robbie coming along?” he asked and watched how she drew her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled the skin.
“He’s still taking a while to warm up to me. I’m not sure how to get him to trust me.”
Thomas noticed the hurt and concern in her eyes.
“I’m sure it will just take some more time. When he was fussy Mary would always...” he began to reassure her with advice, but stopped himself. Talking about his late wife wasn't something that he felt ready to do with Rosaline, and he wasn’t even sure if she wanted to discuss the subject.
“What would she do?” Rosaline asked after a moment of silence. “Really, anything at this point will help.”
The honesty in her eyes set him a little more at ease. “When he was fussing she would rock him in the chair and stroke the curls at the back of his neck. It always seemed to soothe him.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I’ll try that next time he is fussing.” She leant over the table and gently touched his hand. “It’s okay if you want to talk about your wife Thomas. I can tell you loved her a great deal.”
“I did, still do. I don’t think a love like that can ever go away,” he looked up quickly, expecting to see hurt in her eyes. Why do you think that would matter to her? he felt a small inner voice ask him. To his surprise, Rosaline smiled.
“I don’t think anyone would ever expect you to replace Mary. The love you had reminds me of the love between my parents. They loved each other with all their hearts and souls. But don’t be afraid of letting other people in. Love can come in many shapes. Your father and son love you, and,” her voice took on a gentle note of teasing, “I have a sneaking suspicion that the Gideons don’t entirely dislike you.”
Thomas laughed, feeling a little more at ease in her presence. “I can’t say I haven’t had that sneaking suspicion myself.”
The kettle began to boil furiously over the open flames of the fire. Rosaline stood and poured them both a cup of coffee. “Thank you for the advice, Thomas. I really appreciate it,” she said honestly before taking her seat and sipping her coffee.
“Please don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything else.” He sipped his coffee and smiled at her over the rim of his mug. He felt a growing warmth towards her that set him at ease. Her gentle nature and kind heart was something that he was beginning to admire and look forward to seeing every day.