The market was abuzz that day with the news of the burglary and Rossiath was nursing a fierce headache by the noon meal from the whispers and rumors swirling around. She'd heard everyone accused, from the Pierson boy in the neighboring village – after all he was getting married soon – to old man Thinbe, who hated everyone in town and didn't he acquire some new tools recently?
And more than once, Gillis' name came up in whispered conversations. Wasn't he new? How much coin had he spent on that house so far? Who really knew anything about him, where he came from?
Each question dug at Rossiath's mind like miner's picks, painful and painfully accurate, leaving her both wanting to defend the man and questioning why she should. What did anyone know about Gillis? What did she know about him, other than what he'd told her in those brief conversations while he bought her mother's pies. And why had he stopped coming by?
In a foul mood by this point, she went to see her mother, who took one look at her daughter's pale face and scowling expression and shooed her away. “You're to go home and rest child, you're whiter than Mrs. Higby's daisies right now.”
“I'm fine mother, really. I only need to ...”
“You only need to lie down and rest. Now off with you, I'll be fine here.” Rosabella grabbed Rossiath's shoulders, and pointed her in the direction of the house, giving her a quick shove.
“But mother ...” Rossiath turned, ready to protest, only to find herself facing her mother's retreating back. Turning her eyes to the sky, she muttered something unintelligible and headed in the direction of the road home.
As she approached the bridge over the stream, she overheard Maliennde and a couple of her friends near the banks
“ … mother was furious when she heard the rumors.”
“What are you going to do? If you continue to be seen with him it'll ruin your reputation.”
“Well, there's only one thing I can do. I'll have to ...”
The voices faded away as Rossiath moved out of earshot. 'Have to do what?' she wondered, though she could easily guess the answer to that question.
Rossiath shook her head at the thought and paused to pick a flower on the side of the road. She knew that Maliennde would send him away, she'd done it before with other men who'd not met her high standards. And with the rumors going around town now, she'd not risk her 'reputation' being seen with Gillis.
Still, Rossiath could envision the scenario in her head, and she felt a pang of pain and anger for Gillis as he found out the news. He's be hurt probably, disappointed certainly. And she was sure he'd argue that he was innocent – he'd had nothing to do with the theft.
Distracted by imagining the conversation, she didn't notice the mill-house as she passed, nor did she hear her name called out. It wasn't until a hand grabbed her shoulder that she looked up, her expression distant and filled with anger, that she realized she was staring into a pair of hazel eyes. “Oh,” she said, blinking, as the look faded into one of embarrassment. “Hello Mr. Gillis.”
“Miss Rose,” he replied, his lip quirked up in bemusement. “I'd give a silver to know what you were just thinking, so long as it wasn't me those daggers were aimed at.”
“Those daggers ...” Rossiath gave him a blank look, before realizing what he meant. And since she had been thinking about him, she blushed. “No, no ...” she replied, shaking her head. “I've just not been feeling too well today. Mother insisted I lie down,” she continued in an aggravated tone,” and I'm headed home right now to ...”
Gillis cut off the rest of her words by reaching out and gently lifted her chin to study her face intently, the amusement replaced by concern as he took in her unusual paleness and strained expression. “You don't look well at all,” he stated, sounding grim. “Your mother was right. You do need to lie down and rest. I'll walk you home.”
“Really, I know my way home Mr. Gil ...”
“That,” he bit out, his voice taking on an edge of anger, “was not a request, Miss Rose. Taking Rossiath firmly by the arm, he turned her in the direction of her house, calling out to one of the workmen, “I'll be back shortly. I've someone to tend to first.”
Rossiath gritted her teeth, both from the headache and from Gillis' insistence. “I'm telling you, this is not necessary! I'm more than capable of seeing my way home.” she argued as they started up the road together.
“Capable or not,” he replied, his voice deadly calm, “I'm going to walk you home. So I suggest you stop arguing with me, Miss Rose.”
“Arguing with … you're the one arguing!” she spat out as she attempted to pull away from his grasp.
Gillis' fingers only dug in further, keeping his grip on her arm as he turned her to go up the hill. He muttered under his breath, and Rossiath caught the words '...stubborn little fool...' or at least that's what she thought she heard as he let out an exasperated breath.
At the gate to her parents' yard, Rossiath turned and jerked away from Gillis, her eyes flashing with anger. “There! I'm home now. You've done your good deed for the day, so … thank you.” she said, turning and heading up to her porch.
Gillis watched Rossiath as she slammed the door on the way in. The scowl on his face was replaced by a slow thoughtful grin. “Not so indifferent after all,” he said to himself, watching the house for a moment longer, before turning and whistling his way back down the path.
