Chapter Eighteen
Titus saw the two letters and smiled slightly at the return address, before quickly wiping the smile away and replacing it with his usual bland expression. As there was no other mail, he strode towards the kitchen, finding Iris scrubbing the pots from breakfast.
“You’ve got a letter.” He said, holding it out. Iris sighed, her hands still in the soapy water.
“Put it on the counter?” She asked, but Titus hesitated. They knew that the Rumlow family was looking for Runa. He and Iris had promised one another that they would do everything they could to prevent that from happening.
“Maybe I should slip it into your apron pocket instead.” Titus suggested. Iris frowned, before realization dawned.
“That might be best.” She agreed, angling her body so he had access to her apron pocket without much work. Titus slipped the letter into her pocket, then sighed as a bell rang.
“I will go inform them that there was no post today.”
“All right.” Iris went back to her scrubbing, but her mind was on the letter in her pocket. She missed Runa; not just because the Rumlows had yet to hire another maid (which meant Iris had to do a great deal more work to make up for the lack) but because Runa was her friend. She missed their midday chats, missed the cooking lessons. She missed the younger woman’s smile and relentlessly cheerful attitude. And yes, she also missed the work Runa did around the house. Especially the dishes.
Once Iris was finished with her scrubbing she dried her hands and pulled the letter out of her pocket, reading the return address. Mrs. Steven Rogers, Bluestone Ranch, Amaranto Springs, Texas. Everything written in Runa’s neat hand.
“What’s that?”
Iris quickly stuffed the letter in her pocket, turning to smile at Brock, who had entered the kitchen on feet as silent as a mouse’s. “Mister Brock. Just a letter from my sister.”
“May I see the envelope?” Brock asked with what she supposed was supposed to be a charming grin, but there was an edge to it, and the look in his hazel eyes was cold and hard. She felt her heart skip a beat and her stomach clench in terror. “I’m looking for a letter from Runa.”
“Mister Brock, I don’t have to show you my mail.” She said with more courage than she felt. “I haven’t heard from Runa yet, but when I do I’ll be certain to let you know.”
As his expression turned ugly, full of anger and frustration, she expected him to grab her arm. Maybe yell at her for insolence. Worst case, she expected him to slap her.
She did not expect a closed fist punch to her left cheek that sent her reeling and knocked her to the floor.
He grabbed her by her hair, gripping it tightly and hauling her to her feet, causing her to cry out like a scalded cat. He slammed her head down against the countertop, holding her there a moment by her hair. Brock then lowered his head so his lips nearly brushed her ear. “Shut up.” He snarled in her ear, before dropping her to the ground, and kicking her hard in her side. Iris was sobbing from the pain now, and the kick knocked all the wind out of her. She struggled to catch her breath as he reached down and flipped her over, then reached into her apron pocket and ripped the letter from it. He inspected the writing on the letter, then tore open the envelope, hunting for the signature to verify it was from Runa. He smiled a cold smile that promised nothing good when he saw the signature, and then looked down at Iris, who was still struggling to catch her breath.
“Don’t lie to me again.” He said in a conversational tone. “If you warn her or talk about this to anyone, I will find out. You might have an accident. Just like… Hell, what was her name? Mary. That’s it. An accident just like Mary had. And if you try running, I will find you, believe me, I will find you, and I guarantee you will have a much more painful accident when I do.” He kicked her again for good measure, before striding from the room, taking the letter with him.
He walked to the sitting room his mother spent most of her days in, skimming over the letter as he did.
Dearest Iris,
Well, I’ve done it. I’ve made it to Amaranto Springs and it is beautiful! Oh, Iris, you would love it here. Before I arrived I thought Texas would be nothing but desert, but watching the scenery through the windows of the train I knew that was wrong. There are so many different trees and flowers, and everything is so beautiful, even the ranch itself! I’m going to be very busy in coming days; there is an orchard on the ranch, several different kinds of fruit. Those recipes you gave me for jams and preserves will be put to very good use. In fact, all of the recipes you gave me are being put to good use! It’s rather good for my ego, how they act as if what I cook is the best thing they’ve eaten in years when it’s not nearly as good as your cooking. Then again, I’ve heard about what they’ve been eating since their cook died, so my cooking might actually be the best thing they’ve eaten in years.
I should tell you about the wedding. I was surprised that he had planned an actual wedding, I thought it would just be us in front of a preacher or married by a judge, but apparently they only have a circuit judge who comes through a few days each month. When I arrived, Steve took me to a boarding house so I could have a few hours to bathe and change, and then we went to the church, and it felt like the entire town was there. As it was directly after services, the entire town might have been! At least, everyone in town who attends church. It was overwhelming, but lovely. They even arranged a large dinner that almost everyone contributed to. Well, to you it would be lunch. It’s so confusing sometimes, calling lunch dinner and dinner supper, but when I slip up Steve or the men just smile at me for it.
And Steve himself. Oh, Iris! I never expected it from the letters, but he is so handsome! Whenever he looks at me I feel butterflies in my stomach. When he smiles at me it gets worse! His friend, Bucky, is also very handsome, and if I ever find out he is looking for a wife as Steve did, I will have him send a letter to you immediately, to see if you would want to come out to Texas.
The only fly in the ointment of my life right now is that Steve doesn’t seem to see me as a man sees his wife. I am more of a housekeeper and cook who happens to share a bed with him. I wonder if he would go to a different bed if given the opportunity; he seems so averse to even touching me. Maybe it’s just nerves, or he’s waiting for me to settle in more, but it is a blow to not be wanted by my husband. I’ve only been here for a few days, so things could change soon. I hope they do.
Please write to me soon. I miss you so much, and I wish you were here to advise me. And please, I know it isn’t proper, but give Titus a hug for me, and my love. I miss him a great deal as well; he’s always been in my life and now that he isn’t here beside me, I feel a little lost.
I must go. There isn’t time for a longer, more newsy letter, but I hope there will be soon, once I’ve got everything settled here.
Lots of love to you,
Runa Rogers
Brock smirked as he crumpled up the letter in his hand, but it was an ugly smile, with no kindness in it, only malice. So, the idiot she had married wasn’t taking advantage of his rights as her husband. That would make things a great deal easier. And from the sound of it, he wouldn’t have to worry about Blake receiving a letter from Runa, which would make it easier to track Runa down without her getting word of his arrival. Better to catch her off guard.
“Mother,” He said as he entered the sitting room and saw his mother reading a magazine. “I’ve found her. I am afraid there was a slight altercation to retrieve the letter from the cook, but she shouldn’t give us any trouble. She is a bit battered, so we need to come up with an explanation for the others.”
“I have an idea I was saving for the next maid who had an accident, but it will work just as well for Iris. Call for the police. Someone just tried to break into the house through the kitchen.”
~*~
Titus returned from the errand Mister Brock had sent him on to his boxing club, hoping that no one would notice that his errand had taken longer than it should have. He had stopped by Agent Coulson’s office and given him the address for Runa, Coulson thanking him profusely.
As Titus stepped into the kitchen through the back door he paused, startled. Iris was seated at the kitchen table, her face bruised and swollen, her lip bloody, a doctor preparing a cold compress for her while two police officers stood by questioning her. Brock was there as well, and he was explaining things to one of the officers.
“I heard her cry out and found the villain bending over her.” Brock was saying. “I chased him off and helped her up, before sending our maid running to get you.” He looked over and saw Titus. “Someone attempted to break into the house and found Iris in the kitchen. He roughed her over quite badly.”
Titus felt a cold fury knife through him. Iris was a friend and co-worker, and if he ever got his hands on the one who had hurt her…
“Blake. Go be certain my mother is well. She nearly fainted at the news.” Brock ordered Titus from the room.
The Rumlow family went out to dine that evening, to give Iris the evening off due to her injuries. It wasn’t until they left that Titus was able to speak to Iris.
“Did you get a good look at the man who hurt you?” Titus asked her as she worked at the kitchen, preparing something simple for their meal. “I can hunt him down, find him-”
Iris looked around furtively, before looking to Titus. “It was Mister Brock.” She whispered. “He beat me, took my letter from Runa. He’s going to hurt her, Titus, bring her back and hurt her worse than he hurt me, I know it.”
Titus felt himself go cold. He would not let that man lay a finger on Runa, not if he could help it.
“He said if I told anyone, or warned her, he would kill me.”
“Then don’t tell anyone else. I’ll go to the Pinkerton man the first chance I get without raising their suspicions, as well as send a letter to Runa to warn her. It should get to her before Mister Brock does, God willing.”