Chapter Three #2
Amy searched for an answer and came up empty.
She'd imagined long conversations during the ride home and shared stories.
Instead, she found herself standing beside a man who measured every word before letting it leave his mouth, and she couldn't decide whether he was impossible to understand or simply unlike anyone she'd ever met. Caleb’s question lingered in Amy's mind until she found an answer.
"Well... almost everything. I barely know a thing about you.
Caleb gathered the reins more comfortably in his hands without taking his attention from the road. "You wanted a fresh start. I needed a wife."
"I know that." His matter-of-fact reply left her feeling irritated. "So that's all the courting we're going to do? You make it sound like we're settling a business arrangement."
"I've hired help before." He gave the horses a light flick of the reins. "This costs more."
Amy rested her hands across her reticule and tried another subject. "This journey was the first time I’ve ever seen mountains. I'd only ever seen drawings before." She glanced at Caleb, hoping he'd tell her about the place he'd chosen to call home. “They truly are lovely.”
Caleb followed her gaze. "They're easier to admire when the sun is shining."
She smiled. "I was hoping you'd tell me how beautiful Wyoming is at all times."
Caleb's attention stayed on the road as the wagon followed the winding track through the open country. "It is," he said at last. "Until winter."
Amy's smile faded as she looked toward the snow clung to the distant peaks. Missouri was no stranger to snow, but it rarely fell heavy enough to cause emergencies in St. Joseph. Her mother had always kept the stove warm, and their home had smelled of fresh bread and wood smoke while the wind rattled the windows outside. She wondered what it would feel like to face a much harsher winter so far from everyone she’d ever loved.
"I've gathered Wyoming takes its winters very seriously."
"It does." He gave her one sharp nod.
"I suppose I'll find that out soon enough for myself."
"You will."
The wagon rolled on beneath the bright, late spring sky while the breeze stirred loose strands of her hair. Amy watched the countryside unfold around them until her curiosity won another battle with the silence. “My friend Clara made me promise I’d ask about your coffee.”
That earned her a glance. “My coffee?”
“Your letters gave me the impression it could strip paint.”
His lips quirked ever so slightly, which made Amy’s heart leap. “It’s improved."
She laughed. "How much?"
"I still drink it."
Amy smiled. She was beginning to suspect Caleb's sense of humor lived somewhere beneath all that reserve, and only surfaced when it pleased him. "You don't waste many words, do you?"
He shook his head. She laughed again. "It seems as if I’ll have to earn whole sentences."
He gave the smallest shrug. "Could happen."
That one felt almost generous.
Amy settled back against the seat, enjoying the steady rhythm of the wagon wheels. "Tell me about the ranch."
"What about it?"
She smiled, relieved he'd asked a question of his own. "I'll be living there. I'd rather picture it before we arrive than walk in completely surprised."
He seemed to think about the question while the horses climbed another gentle rise. "The house has seen better days," he said. "The roof leaks whenever the rain gets heavy."
She smiled. "I've always wanted a house with character."
"The barn's in good shape. That's what matters."
"That sounds encouraging."
"Fence isn't."
"I take it you judge every place by the work waiting to be done."
"That's usually what matters."
Amy rested one hand on the wagon seat and studied Caleb with growing curiosity. "And Copper Bend?"
He nodded just once. "It's got a mercantile."
Amy knew there was a way to get his walls to come down; she simply wasn’t sure how to achieve that yet. "I'd hoped for a slightly warmer recommendation."
"It also has a blacksmith."
She giggled. "I don't believe you've mentioned a single person since I arrived."
"They're around."
His answer carried enough finality that she let the subject go. The silence that followed felt easier than the earlier ones. The wagon crested another rise, and Caleb lifted the reins slightly. "Home."
Amy leaned forward. The ranch spread across the valley, its weathered buildings resting beneath broad cottonwood trees, while green pastures stretched toward the foothills.
The house looked older than she'd imagined, and several fence lines leaned enough to prove Caleb hadn't exaggerated about the repairs, yet the whole place possessed a quiet charm that made her smile.
She could already imagine flowers beneath the windows and vegetables growing beside the porch once she put in a little work
The front door flew open before the wagon reached the yard, and a little boy burst outside with a younger girl racing after him.
Amy smiled as they hurried across the yard. "I didn't realize your neighbors lived so close."
Caleb said nothing. The boy reached the wagon first and planted both hands on his hips. "You're late."
"I know."
The little girl wrapped both arms around Caleb's leg as soon as he climbed down from the wagon. His rough hand settled gently on her hair before he reached back for Amy's trunk.
Amy's smile faltered. The children stayed close to him like they were used to being near him. Like they belonged here.
The boy looked up at Caleb, then shifted his attention to Amy. "Who's she?"
Caleb lifted the trunk onto his shoulder. "This is Amy."
Neither child responded. The little girl slipped behind Caleb, while the boy watched Amy with open suspicion. Amy looked from one child to the other before turning back to Caleb. "Who are they?"
"They live here."
She frowned, her gaze moving between the children and Caleb. Perhaps they belonged to a neighboring ranch, or maybe they were the foreman's children. They certainly behaved as though they knew him well. "I don't understand."
Caleb finally met her eyes. "They're mine to raise."
She searched Caleb's face, waiting for the explanation that surely had to come. None did.
The realization swept through her with dizzying force. He had written to her for weeks. He had told her the roof leaked, the fences needed mending, and the coffee might disappoint her. Yet he had never once mentioned two children waiting for them. Her stomach sank.
A dozen questions crowded her mind. Were they orphans? Relatives? Why was he raising them? More troubling still, what else hadn't he thought important enough to tell her? Was he truly so arrogant that he didn’t think she deserved to know?
She looked at Noah's guarded expression and the little girl clinging to Caleb's leg.
Neither child had done anything wrong. They looked frightened and uncertain, as though they were studying her just as carefully as she studied them.
The thought softened the first edge of her anger, leaving only confusion and a deep sense of unease.
Amy had arrived expecting an awkward marriage to a quiet rancher. Instead, she'd stepped into a family she knew nothing about. What on earth had she gotten herself into?