Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Another Monday morning dawned. Amelia prepared to do the laundry again. Already, there was a smelly, dirty pile accumulated since last week. No doubt it was one of the tasks Gil was expected to do, but didn’t.
She put off starting the job until Zach rode away to return to the herd.
Only because she didn’t want him to feel he needed to help her carry water.
Not because she cherished every minute he was there and lingered over a second cup of coffee, as did he.
No, that would be plumb foolish. Instead of thinking of Zach, her thoughts should be going over Jacob’s letter and anticipating the possibility of their shared future.
The faint scent of soap wafted over her as she scrubbed clothes with a steady rhythm.
Poppy darted about, her giggles filling the yard as Kat chased her.
Pa wandered nearby, humming a tune that seemed buried deep in his memory, his steps slow but deliberate.
Amelia watched him closely, pausing in her work now and then to ensure he stayed within sight.
The sun climbed higher. By midday, the household settled into a quiet hum of activity.
Amelia paused at the well, wiping her brow and scanning the tree line, a faint unease tugging at her thoughts.
It was necessary for Zach to be away attending to ranch matters, but the emptiness left in his absence seemed to grow heavier with each passing hour.
She glanced often at the horizon, fearful that Sobel would realize Zach was away and consider bothering her.
Gil approached, a water bucket in his hand.
“I’m going to clean up the cookhouse.” His gaze darted away.
He likely had more in mind than scrubbing the floor, but she couldn’t stop him from nipping from one of his bottles.
She cooked the noon meal. Gil didn’t join them, not that she’d expected he would, but there’d lingered a faint hope he was sober.
The afternoon passed in a blur of hanging laundry, emptying the wash water on the thirsty garden, and bringing in items as they dried.
She took in the sheets for Zach’s bed and headed up the stairs.
At her request this morning, he’d brought down the bedding and his laundry.
The linens were crispy fresh, carrying the scent of mountain air.
She stepped into the room she’d barely entered before, only dashing in to give it a quick dusting.
This time, she gave it an intense study.
It might be the last time she had an excuse to linger.
With a flick of her wrists, she spread the sheet over the mattress and tucked in the edges.
She laid two gray woolen blankets on top and then folded the Hudson’s Bay blanket of white with green, red, yellow, and black stripes.
She hung it over the black metal frame at the foot of the bed.
She put the pillow slip over the feather pillow.
Stepping back, she admired the completed job.
The imprint of his body remained in the mattress, showing through the taut covers.
Of course, it didn’t. That was merely a silly thought.
She rumbled her lips at her vivid imagination and turned her attention to the two items on the table by his bed—his Bible and a lamp.
A chest of drawers stood to one side. On top was a stack of newspapers and three books.
She didn’t open the drawers, even though she was tempted.
Instead, she shifted her gaze to the dark-blue shirt hanging on a hook.
Why had he never worn it? The color would emphasize his dark, good looks.
Upon closer examination, she discovered the reason.
It had a tear near the elbow and a button missing on the cuff.
She’d soon have that fixed. The fabric carried a hint of his scent—leather, warm grass, and blue skies.
My, wasn’t she getting fanciful?
Circling the room brought her to the window.
From there, she could see the barn and the rolling hills beyond and the mountains rising into the sky.
She scanned the horizon from one side to the other.
Nothing moved. No one rode toward the house.
Not that she expected anyone. With a shake of her head, she turned aside.
Leaving the shirt hanging on the doorknob, she carried the other clean sheets to Pa’s room and made his bed. Straightening, she studied the photo of Zach’s mother, which it stood on the nearby dresser. A pretty woman with the same direct gaze as her son had. A smile as sweet and welcoming as a hug.
Amelia stepped away, careful not to move anything. Doing so would upset Pa.
“Mama.”
“Hi, my sweet child.” She swung the girl into her arms and kissed her cheek. “You smell like grass. What have you been doing?”
“Playing.”
Amelia chuckled. “Good to know.”
Poppy stared into Amelia’s eyes, her study so intense, Amelia wondered what she had in mind. She was about to ask what the child was thinking when Poppy spoke.
“Where Gampa?”
Amelia’s stomach clenched so hard she coughed. Did Poppy mean what it sounded like?
“Grampa’s downstairs. Outside.” She’d left the three of them in the shade. Kat had promised to watch Pa and Poppy. “With Kat.”
“No, Gampa gone. Kat gone.”
Gone?
Amelia’s breath jammed into her breastbone.
How long had she been upstairs lingering over items in Zach’s room while Poppy and Pa were unsupervised? At least Poppy hadn’t wandered away. She tightened her arms around the child, grabbed the shirt off the doorknob, and rushed downstairs.
By the time she reached the bottom, her heart pounded with racing emotions—fear for Pa’s safety, anger at Kat for not watching, and dismay over her own failure.
Amelia circled the house. But there was no Kat and no Pa.
“Kat!” The name roared from her mouth.
No one answered.
“Kat!” Desperation carried the word into the sky, into the distance, and—please, God—to her ears.
Jostling Poppy on her hip, Amelia trotted to the cookhouse. “Gil.” The man was sprawled across the table. He lifted his head, his eyes unfocused and bloodshot. He’d be no help.
She slammed the door as she exited.
No Kat. No Gil. Worst of all, no Pa.
“We are going to find Gampa.” She’d have to take the child with her, which would hamper her pace. But she had no other option.
“We go, Mama.”
“Yes, child.”
Where to begin? She turned full circle, scanning the scene for any clue. Please, God, let him be by the garden or the grove beside the trail or on the hill looking at the mountains.
No sign of him. Of any other human. The emptiness sucked at her soul.
I am not alone. God promised never to leave me nor forsake me.
“But it sure would help if Kat were here too,” Amelia muttered.
“Kat go to horsey. Me not go.”
Alarm bells thundered in Amelia’s head. Was the girl injured? How far had Pa gone?
A flicker of movement to her right jerked Amelia’s attention in that direction, even as her heart kicked into a faster beat. Not Sobel. Please, not him.
Leather reins shivered over the top rail nearest to the barn. Someone moved in the shadows, and then Kat emerged.
The strength fled from Amelia’s legs. She stiffened them.
“Kat? Where have you been?” Anger, fear, and relief made her words hard and unnecessarily loud. She didn’t give the girl the opportunity to answer. “Pa is gone, and Poppy was alone. She might have wandered off. I left you to watch them.”
Remorse flashed through Kat’s dark eyes, perhaps a touch of hurt. Then her chin jutted out.
Already regretting how she’d spoken, Amelia swallowed back her anxiety. “I’m sorry to be so cross, but when I think of what could happen—” A shudder rattled her teeth.
“They were busy digging a hole by the house. I thought they’d be all right for a few minutes. I only wanted to say hi to the mustang.”
Her few minutes had turned into more. Amelia couldn’t begin to guess how long she’d been gone.
“Did you see him anywhere?” Her question carried the sound of her desperation.
“Don’t you think I’d say if I did?” Kat shrugged, an angry gesture. “He’s not in the barn.”
“I have to find him.” Amelia paused, half hoping Kat would offer to look. She didn’t. “Taking Poppy will slow me down.” Again, she waited.
Kat regarded her with narrowed eyes. “I can watch Poppy.”
“You promise you’ll stay with her?”
“Of course, I will. Give her to me.”
What choice did she have but to trust the girl? Amelia shifted Poppy into her arms. Praying for the child’s safety and for direction in finding Pa, she hurried away.
The trees first. She slowed her steps, not wishing to startle the man if he was there.
He wasn’t.
She made her way to the left, searching trees, looking for him behind boulders. Nothing. She reached the barn. Unless he’d slipped in unnoticed since she left Kat, he wasn’t there.
A glance toward the house assured her that Kat and Poppy were safely on the porch, so she moved on.
The field of flowers was next. Pa didn’t sit on the brow of the hill. She moved closer to see into the hollow. Pa sat in the midst of the weary flowers, his slouch every bit as weary.
Her breath whooshed out. Thank You, God.
Humming to alert the man to her presence, she made her way toward him. At his side, she sat down. “Hi, Pa.”
“Evelyn came here.” His voice quavered.
“I know.” Would her soft voice comfort him?
“She prayed for us.”
“Yes.” Uncertain what direction his thoughts headed, she waited for him to say more. This place would be full of bittersweet memories for him.
“Who will pray for us now?”
“Oh, Pa.” She edged closer and clasped his hand. “You can pray, and so will I.”
“Right now?”
“Of course.”
They bowed their heads. After a few seconds, she realized he waited for her, so she began. “Our Father which art in heaven—”
He joined her in repeating the Lord’s Prayer. “Amen.” He chuckled. “That was nice.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” A moment of silence. “Are you ready to go home?” Worry about Poppy twisted through Amelia’s head. But she waited for Pa to make the first move. “Poppy was asking for her gampa.”