“I should have.” Colton’s gaze pierced through the armor Emma had secured around her heart. Why did he have to stir feelings within her? Why couldn’t she just accept his apology and send him on his way?
“I’m very sorry for not telling you everything, Emma. But please believe me, my desire to marry you has nothing,nothingat all to do with my brothers or the railroad or anything else. I love you, and that’s the only reason I asked you to marry me.”
“I believe him now, Emma.” Rosie’s simple way of stating her facts always amused Emma. Even now it was as if because Rosie believed, she expected that Emma should as well. “Colton doesn’t lie. I think Walter and Ernest were wrong for trying to make him marry you, but since Colton really loves you, it would be all right. I know you love him, or it wouldn’t hurt your heart so much.”
Emma got to her feet. “Enough. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“But do you forgive Colton?” Rosie asked.
Her own desires for forgiveness left her little choice. She looked at Colton and squared her shoulders. “I forgive you, but I do not trust you.”
“She said she forgives him.” Rosie had enjoyed the long walk she and Rob took out toward the lake. It wasn’t all thatfar, and many other people were either riding or walking toward the same destination. It seemed a perfect thing to do on a Sunday afternoon.
“That’s a start,” Rob replied, patting her arm. “We’ll have to keep praying for them.”
“Oh yes.” Rosie had been praying most fervently for Emma and Colton. Frankly, from the first time she’d heard her brothers talk about them marrying, Rosie had thought she’d like that very much. However, she wanted them to marry for love, not money. After talking with Colton the last couple of weeks, Rosie was convinced of his feelings for Emma. He really did love her. The only problem now would be convincing Emma that she, too, loved Colton. And of that, Rosie was certain. As she had said, Emma wouldn’t be so hurt by all that had happened if not for her feelings running deep.
“Colton has changed a lot, and he plans to stay here in Cheyenne. He told me he prays now,” Rosie said, looking to Rob. “He said he put his trust in Jesus.”
“I heard that too. It’s a wonderful thing.”
“Yes. No one in my family went to church except Aunt Clementine. Well, my mama did. I remember Colton saying that she did, and that she talked about God. I wish I could have known her. Your mama is so special, and I like to think mine was like that.”
“I imagine she was.” Rob took hold of her hand.
“What was it like having your mama around all the time?” Rosie had often tried to imagine. She had known Aunt Clementine’s presence, but even then, she had spent more time alone in the nursery than anything else. It had been a very lonely existence.
“My mother is always doing things for us or other people, making treats or clothes or fixing up something. She was always busy, but not too busy to stop and listen when weneeded her to. She was always there for us and made sure we knew we were loved.”
“How’d she do that?” Rosie had started to imagine the possibility of being a wife and mother one day, but she knew nothing about either job. Maybe she’d have a talk with Rob’s mother about it.
“She’d tell us every day that she loved us. And she’d show us. There were times when one of us would get hurt, and she’d dry our tears and clean us up. All the while, she’d tell us stories about when she was a girl. It took our minds from our woes. And she was always so patient when she taught us things.”
“Like you’re patient with me when we read.” She looked up at him and smiled. “You’re not like my brothers. They have no patience.”
“Rosie, you’re easy to teach, and no patience is required. I think a lot of things in life will come instinctually to you.”
“What does that word mean?”
“Instinctually? It means you’ll just know what to do when it’s required of you.”
“I wouldn’t know how to be a mother,” Rosie said, not really meaning to speak the words aloud. She looked at Rob and shook her head. “I was just thinking that. ... You don’t have to say anything.”
Rob raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss across her knuckles. “I want to hear all about what you’re thinking. I want to know everything. I love you, Rosie.”
It was the first time he’d said those words to her, and Rosie couldn’t help but stop and look at him quite seriously. “I love you, Rob.” She frowned a moment. “Is it all right that I said that?”
Rob laughed, and after a quick glance around, he gave her a quick embrace. “It’s very right, Rosie. It’s very, very right.”
18
On Thursday, Emma and Rosie joined some of the other ladies from the Methodist church at Marybeth Vogel’s house. They were meeting to plan a bake sale that would be held at the Firemen’s Tournament. The festivities would be held on the ninth and tenth of July in lieu of an Independence Day celebration. It was most unusual that the city wouldn’t be celebrating the Fourth in grand style, but not only was the tournament of great importance, but the Union Pacific was also to hold ceremonies celebrating the laying of a cornerstone for the new shops. The city fathers felt certain that celebrating Independence Day as well as hosting the Firemen’s Tournament for Wyoming and Northern Colorado would be far too taxing on the city. After all, many businesses had plans to close down, and the town was expecting to receive some five thousand additional people.
The ladies of the Methodist church figured this would be a perfect opportunity to host a huge bake sale. It was to be bigger than any they’d ever held before. The money they made would be added to the church’s building fund, and everyone was encouraged to work hard and bake more than ever before. It reminded Emma that she wanted to makea substantial gift to the church. Unfortunately, that would require talking to Colton about what needed to be done. Her local bank account had plenty of money for daily living, but not the kind of money she hoped to give the building fund.
“We want to organize the various things everyone will make,” Marybeth Vogel began after the ladies had taken a seat in her large front room. The day was quite warm, and many of the ladies had already begun to fan themselves. Emma hadn’t even considered bringing a fan and felt most uncomfortable. Of course, she still wore black mourning with long sleeves and a high neck. If anything had convinced her it was time to leave off with such traditions, it was the heat.
“Who among you would like to make cookies?” Marybeth asked.
