Chapter Thirty-Three
Amy kept her hands against Caleb’s face while the silence settled around them, heavy with everything he had confessed and everything his fear had nearly cost them. His hands rested around her wrists, holding her gently now, while regret remained clear in his eyes.
“You cannot tell me losing me would destroy you, then decide that sending me away is the only answer.”
His expression tightened with shame. “I knew that would convince you.”
The honesty hurt, although Amy preferred it to another excuse. She pulled one hand free and stepped back, needing enough distance to keep her thoughts clear.
“I was wrong.” Caleb’s apology came without resistance or humor, and Amy felt some of her anger fade with it. He moved closer. “I was wrong to decide for you,” he continued. “I was wrong to say the children and I would be fine without you, and I knew it was a lie when I said it.”
Amy glanced toward the stairs, remembering how each word had followed her while she packed. “Part of me still hears it. And I may still for a while.”
“I understand.”
“You will have to do more than understand.” Amy met his gaze sternly. “When fear returns, you have to speak to me. You may tell me of the danger and ask me to be careful, but you cannot decide our future without me.”
Caleb drew a long breath, and Amy saw how difficult the promise was for a man who had survived by trusting only himself. “I will speak to you first,” he agreed.
“Even when you believe you know better?”
Caleb’s gaze held hers, regret still visible in the tightness around his eyes.
“Especially then.” He paused, moving his grip to her hand and brushing his thumb across her knuckles once.
“Because that is when I am most likely to forget that protecting you does not mean taking the choice away from you.”
Amy reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his. “I’m frightened, too,” she admitted. “Dray walked into this house as though he had every right to threaten us. I don’t know what he might try before the judge arrives.”
Caleb’s gaze moved toward the covered windows. “Boone plans to place deputies near the roads. We can keep the ranch hands close and arrange watches around the barn.”
“…you said ‘we’.”
Caleb looked back at her, then gave a small nod. “I’m learning.”
“Painfully.” Warmth stirred beneath the hurt, though Amy kept her expression firm. “Russ and Boone and everyone else are helping because this fight belongs to more people than just you. You can’t change what happened with Jonah,” Amy continued, “but you can refuse to repeat it with me.”
Caleb raised her hand and pressed his lips against her fingers. The quiet tenderness of the gesture reached deeper than any elaborate promise could have. “I will not send you away,” he promised. “I may argue with you until you reach for the candlestick again, but the choice will remain yours.”
Amy’s lips curved into a smile. “That may be the least romantic vow a husband has ever offered.”
“You married a rancher because of a horseshoe wager. Romance never had a fair chance.”
The smile escaped her then, and Caleb’s shoulders eased as he drew her into his arms. Amy rested against him, feeling the strain leave both of them slowly while his hand moved across her back.
“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “You made this house a home.”
“Then you can help me unpack.”
Caleb sighed into her hair. “I confessed love and admitted fault within the same hour.”
“You were prepared to pay my train fare.”
“Fear has poor judgment and too much money.”
Amy laughed softly, and some of the warmth Dray had stolen returned to the room.
Her gaze fell to the carpetbag she had packed only a short while ago.
The thought of carrying it back to her room felt strangely wrong now.
She had packed it because Caleb had convinced her there was no place for her here, and unpacking it offered the chance to answer that hurt with a choice of her own.
Amy picked up the bag and held it toward him. “You can carry this to the bedroom.”
Caleb took it automatically and climbed the stairs as Amy followed him. She cleared her throat when he took a step toward what had been her room until now. “No need to put it in the guest room,” she said lightly.
Caleb paused, looking confused. Amy raised her brows at him. Understanding came into his expression slowly, followed by a tenderness that made Amy’s pulse quicken. He searched her face as though he needed to be certain he had understood correctly, unwilling to presume.
Amy slipped her hand into his. “I would rather unpack in you- …in ours.”
For several seconds Caleb said nothing. The look in his eyes softened, and his fingers closed more firmly around hers. “Are you certain?”
“I am.”
He didn’t ask again.
When they entered his bedroom, she was struck by how unmistakably Caleb the room was, practical and spare, with little occupying the space other than the most necessary furniture.
She opened his wardrobe and found space among his clothes, then began placing her dresses beside his shirts.
Caleb remained close without interfering, watching her make room for herself in the life he had nearly sent her away from.
When the last dress was put away, Caleb lifted the empty carpetbag and placed it inside the wardrobe.
Amy watched him close the door on it. For the first time since arriving at Bell-Whitaker Ranch, there was no separate room waiting for her.
She had chosen where she belonged, and Caleb had finally trusted her enough to let that choice be hers.
***
Russ returned near dusk with two ranch hands and a message from Sheriff Boone confirming that deputies would patrol the northern road. His face hardened when Caleb told him of Dray’s visit.
“He came here because Jonah’s papers shook his confidence,” Russ said, removing his hat near the kitchen door. “A calm man does not ride across town to insult another man unless his boots are already warming.”
“Boone still wants us to wait,” Caleb replied with a heavy sigh.
“Boone wants Dray angry enough to make a mistake while keeping us alive and out of trouble long enough to witness it.” Russ glanced toward Amy.
“Lydia passed a message through Delilah that the children are safe. Maggie has declared herself commander of the guest room, while Noah stands accused of stealing her pillow.”
Relief loosened the anxiety Amy had carried since leaving them that morning.
She could picture the argument easily enough, Maggie indignant and Noah insisting upon facts with all the seriousness of a courtroom witness.
For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to have them home, filling the rooms with the ordinary noise she had once found exhausting.
Instead, darkness was gathering beyond the windows, and keeping them away remained the safest choice she and Caleb could make.
The next hour filled the ranch with preparations that made Amy increasingly aware of how little of their ordinary life remained at the moment.
Two men took positions near the barn, another checked the southern fence, and Russ went over the approaches to the house with Caleb while Amy listened from the kitchen.
She understood the necessity of every precaution, yet each one tightened the unease beneath her ribs.
Dray had stood in this room only hours ago and promised that other measures would follow.
Now the men were arranging themselves around the ranch because none of them doubted him.
Caleb took the first patrol along the creek.
When he reached for his coat, Amy’s attention followed the movement before she could stop it.
Earlier that afternoon she had fought for the right to remain beside him despite the danger, and she didn’t regret that choice, but courage felt considerably easier while Caleb stood within reach.
Watching him prepare to walk into the darkness tested it differently.
She picked up his gloves from the table and carried them to him. Caleb seemed to read something in her face, because his expression softened and, instead of immediately taking the gloves, he closed his hands around hers.
“I’ll have Russ take over within the hour,” he said.
Amy nodded, though the promise did little to quiet the fear that Dray had left behind. She reminded herself that Caleb wouldn’t be alone, that the ranch hands were stationed nearby and Boone’s deputies were watching the roads.
“You will wake me if anything changes,” she declared, her eyes steely.
Caleb hesitated, then bent and kissed her forehead. “I will wake you.”
Amy watched from the window as he crossed the darkened yard. She kept the lamp low and prepared coffee for the men, along with clean cloths, in case anyone was injured. Caleb returned before the hour had passed, carrying the night’s cold into the house.
“The creek road is quiet,” he said. “Russ has men watching both approaches, and Boone’s deputy passed the north fence.”
Amy handed him a cup of coffee. “Then sit until your mind remembers that quiet does not always hide danger.”
Caleb set the cup aside and drew her against him on the sofa. Firelight shifted across the parlor walls as the house settled around them. His arm was firm around her shoulders, and Amy rested her hand within his.
The children would come home after the judge arrived. Noah would bring his boat, Maggie would bring Eloise, and the rooms would fill with their voices again. Amy held to the image of that future while Caleb pressed his lips against her hair.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“You already apologized.”
He smiled just a little, but his eyes remained serious. “I will keep saying it until you believe me.”
Amy leaned closer. “I believe you are trying.”
Caleb lowered his forehead against hers, and the quiet between them felt safe again.
At that moment, a bitter smell drifted through the room. Amy pulled back and looked toward the hearth, though the smoke gathering near the ceiling did not come from the fireplace.
“Caleb!”
He rose at once and rushed to the window. An orange glow flickered beyond the curtain, growing brighter as he pulled the fabric aside. “The barn!”
Caleb seized his rifle and ran for the door. Amy followed him onto the porch, where flames climbed up to the barn roof and poured from the loft. Horses screamed inside while sparks swept into the dark sky.
Russ shouted orders across the yard, sending men toward the well as another ranch hand fought to open the corral gate. Caleb raced through the smoke and dragged the barn door wider before disappearing inside.
Amy ran toward the pump, where Russ thrust a bucket into her hands. “Fill and pass,” he ordered. “Keep clear of the roof.”
She joined the line between the well and the barn. Water spilled across her skirt while men shouted over the flames. Every full bucket vanished into waiting hands, and each empty one returned before she had caught her breath.
Caleb emerged leading two terrified horses, his clothing blackened with ash. He released them toward the open pasture, then turned back toward the barn.
“Caleb!” Amy shouted.
Smoke swallowed his answer as he ducked inside again. The building groaned beneath the roar of the fire. Russ pushed another bucket into her grip while directing the ranch hands toward the western wall, and Amy forced herself to keep moving. Panic would save neither Caleb nor the animals.
Movement near the house caught her attention, and Amy turned sharply. Every nerve sparked. With Dray’s threat still fresh in her mind, she no longer trusted that the burning barn was an accident, and a man moving through the smoke away from the bucket line immediately seemed wrong.
She tried to make out his face, but another gust drove smoke across the yard and swallowed his features. Amy tightened her grip on the bucket and searched for Russ, suddenly conscious of how far the confusion had drawn everyone from the house.
The figure changed direction and started toward her.
Alarm shot through Amy. She stepped back and opened her mouth to call for Russ, but a jolt from her injured ankle stole her breath for a moment as the man closed the distance faster than she expected.
Amy barely managed to gasp Caleb’s name before an arm locked around her waist and jerked her backward.
The bucket fell from her hands and struck the ground, spilling water across the dirt.
Amy opened her mouth to scream, but a gloved hand smothered it as the smoke closed around them.