Page 16 of A Rose of Steel
I still was feeling bad from when she said I was sending men away. I surely didn’t want to do that, but I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to give up on Alex yet either.
I’d straightened my hair as best I could with the humidity the Texas’ air was laden with and put on make-up—the two things Alex noticed different about me. After seeing him, I couldn’t decide if it was him I cared about anymore or that he was my ticket back out of Roble.
I had on five-inch heels, a slimming black dress with a plunging neckline and a swing to my walk. With the way I looked, there was nothing to complain about.
When Alex knocked, Auntie made me go and wait in the parlor, as she liked to call it. In her conversations with me about dating she always hastened back to an earlier time using terms like “courting” and “gentleman callers.” I was nervous about him seeing me. As soon as Auntie walked him into the room, it was easy to see that he wasn’t feeling well.
“What happened to you?” I asked.
His lips and the tip of his nose had a red tinge to them. His face was contorted like he was in pain and he was rubbing his hand over his belly.
“Does your stomach hurt?” I asked.
“Not really,” he said. “I feel...” he shrugged, “just kind of nauseated, but that is nothing compared to this.” He put his fingers up to his lips and winced. “They’re really painful to the touch.”
“Then don’t touch them,” Auntie said.
“You look awful,” I said, I saw his fingertips were red too as he put his hands down. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I took a shower, lied across the bed and must’ve fell asleep. When I got up to get ready to come and get you, this is what I saw in the mirror.”
“Did you eat anything?”
“Nope. Didn’t want to ruin my appetite. Oh wait, I grabbed a bag of pretzels from the mini-bar.” He shrugged. “But that’s it.”
“You can’t go anywhere looking like that,” Auntie Zanne said. She walked over to him and pulling him down to her height by his shoulder, she held onto his chin and turned his head from side to side. “I’ve got something to fix that. Heal you right up.”
She looked at me, a sly grin on her face, I knew she was waiting for me to protest. She’d been wanting to fill Alex up with one of her brews since the first time she’d laid eyes on him. I didn’t know if would be a truth serum, or some kind of staying concoction, or possibly even a disappearing powder so my heart and mind would be free to love whoever she decided was best for me. I watched her sashay out of the room, not taking her eye off of me waiting for me to object. Any other time I would have opposed what she aimed to do, but tonight I was thinking, why not? I knew whatever she cooked up for him wouldn’t hurt him, it might even help whatever had caused his reaction.
But I also hoped that it would make him tell me everything, or want me more, or maybe even feel as if he couldn’t live without me. I just had to wait to see what she gave him.
Chapter Eight
“You’re not going to let her feed me something that’ll make me fall in love with the first woman I meet, are you?” Alex let out a guarded chuckle. After Auntie and my exchange, I had noticed how he had watched us. Funny, even when you don’t believe in something, when confronted with it, it can make you think twice about the realness of it.
“What if that woman were me?” I asked.
“I’m already in love with you,” he said and came over to me. I searched his eyes for something that would tell me his words were true, but I saw nothing more than the pain he was having from him being sick.
“Why don’t you sit down?” I said. “There.” I pointed to the loveseat. I followed him over and sat next to him. “I wouldn’t worry about what Auntie is getting for you. She’s got a healing touch. And she won’t hurt you.”
“Maybe we won’t be able to go out to dinner,” he said, his eyes questioning me if it was alright. “Today didn’t turn out like I planned it. I thought we would spend it together.”
“Don’t worry about dinner. I completely understand.” I raised an eyebrow. “It didn’t go like anyone planned it,” I said. “Bumper died.”
“Bumper?” His face showed momentary confusion. “Oh,” he said and lifted his eyebrows, “the young man I gave CPR to?”
“Yep,” I said and nodded.
“How is that possible?” he asked. “He was having an asthma attack, I intubated him. He should have been fine.”
“I know,” I said. “I guess it was just his time.” I looked over at him. “When will it be our time?”
“To die?” he said, his eyes big.
“No,” I said, smacking his leg. “Our time to be together.”
He shifted his weight and turned to me. “That’s one of the things I wanted to tell you today. At dinner.” I thought I saw a small twinkle in his eye.
