Tabitha Read Online Free PDF

would find him or, at the
least, reach a bigger town, one with a telegraph.
    “Yes. We can talk about such things tomorrow when you are
recovered from your ordeal. I shall just brush your hair while you drink your
tea.”
    Opal moved behind me and fingered my hair. “You have such
beautiful hair, my dear. Such fire!”
    “Thank ya. Cray . . . Cray always said he
loved m’ hair.”
    I sipped on the strong brew again. I did not recognize the
flavor. It seemed . . . a bit off, but its sweetness was
welcome. I sipped again.
    “Yes, I can certainly understand why.” Opal gathered my
thick mane and drew a brush through it. She brushed with a soothing rhythm and
soon my hair dried under her ministrations.
    I found myself yawning. “Goodness—I’m s’ sorry. ’Fraid I’m a-gettin’
right sleepy again.”
    “You have endured a terrible experience, my dear, so your
fatigue is to be expected, no? Finish your tea and I will get you into bed.”
    Opal poured a little scented oil into her hands, rubbed them
together, and then ran her fingers repeatedly through my hair. The scent of the
oil filled the room.
    “What’s thet?” I asked as I made myself finish the tea. My
hand felt weak and the teacup rattled as I placed the saucer on the little
table next to my chair.
    “Just some perfumed oil. To relax you a bit more.”
    “Relax?” My tongue seemed stiff.
    “Are you finished, dear? Ready for bed?”
    I did not answer. I could not seem to string two words
together.
    Opal helped me to the bed but it was all I could do to sit
on its edge. She slid the robe from my shoulders and helped me to lie down.
    I lay blinking slowly under the sheet.
    What is happening?
    She had not been gone more than a minute when the door
opened and closed again. I heard Opal speaking from just inside the room.
    “You may have your way with her, Mr. Ward, but remember
this: I expect you to break her in gently. She should be compliant enough and I
will not tolerate any marks on her. Do you understand?”
    “Sure, Opal, sure.”
    “Very well, then,” Opal opened the door and slipped from the
room.
    A shadowy figure neared the bed and leaned over me.
    “Who . . .” My mouth would not form the words
I wanted to say.
    Three times that night men came into the room. I knew what
they were doing, but I had no voice to object, no strength to fight them.
    I could only endure.
     
     
    Rose’s pen upon her notebook quivered. Her entire body
trembled with an outrage she did not know how to express in a godly manner. At
the same time, she ached with a sorrow that threatened to undo her.
    Tabitha stared at something unseen and tears streamed down
her cheeks and dripped from her chin. She was lost in her own thoughts, her own
pain and did not notice Rose’s struggle. Tabitha’s hands clenched and
unclenched until Rose saw how red her fingers were becoming and placed her own
hands upon Tabitha’s to still them.
    “That is enough for today, dearest,” Rose murmured.
    O Lord, O Lord! Did I not hear you? Was this a horrible
mistake?
    Tabitha’s eyes blinked rapidly and she returned to
consciousness of the place and time. She glanced at Rose, weariness upon her
brow. “I have not thought of all that for a while,” she whispered. “I-I have
refused to think on those days for many years.”
    Rose swallowed. “I understand why.” She moistened her lips.
“I had no real sense of what I was asking of you, Tabitha. Perhaps I was wrong
to ask such a thing. Perhaps—”
    “No!” Tabitha’s temper, often lurking just under the
surface, flared, and her one-word response was sharply spoken.
    She regretted her outburst immediately. “Oh! Oh, I-I am so
sorry.”
    Rose moved to sit next to Tabitha. She wrapped her arms
about the younger woman and Tabitha leaned into Rose’s comforting embrace.
    “Tabitha, you said ‘no’ to my suggestion that we stop. Can
you tell me why?”
    Tabitha shuddered but nodded. “It is hard, dredging up the
sordid