Chapter 11 #2
“Let’s go.” He rose. “I’m glad you’re here until Evelyn gets back.” Humming, he trotted away, thankfully in the right direction.
Poppy and Kat stood hand in hand in front of the house, watching them approach.
There was one more thing Amelia had to do. “Kat, I apologize for being so cross with you. I’m sorry.” She would not weaken her apology with reasons for her crossness—like worry.
Kat stubbed the toe of her boot into the ground, raising little puffs of dirt.
Poor child… for she was nothing more at the moment. No doubt, her mother would have offered her comfort. Dismissing the last vestiges of anger and worry, Amelia wrapped her arms about Kat and hugged her stiff body. Slowly, the girl relaxed.
“I’m sorry.” Kat’s words sounded teary, and Amelia held her tighter.
The girl broke away, turned her back to Amelia, and sniffled. Then, without being asked, she helped Amelia bring in the rest of the laundry, fold it, and put it away. She took her sheets upstairs and made her own bed.
Despite the earlier drama—or maybe as a result of it—contentment settled over the scene.
They put off eating supper, waiting for Zach’s return.
The golden evening light stretched across the landscape as Amelia stood on the front porch, gazing toward the horizon.
When hooves clip-clopped closer, her heart skipped a beat.
She straightened, her breath catching as a lone figure appeared on the horizon, silhouetted against the setting sun’s amber glow.
She couldn’t breathe until she made out Zach coming home.
Poppy pulled on her skirts, pointing at the flare of the western sun. “Look, Mama! Fire in the sky!”
Amelia smiled, brushing a strand of hair from the child’s face. “Yes, Poppy. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” But her gaze lingered, not on the sky, but on the distant figure riding toward them. Her heart quickened, though she wouldn’t admit why.
Zach rode into the yard, every hoofbeat echoing in his chest, dust clinging to his clothes like a second skin. The weight on his shoulders was more than just fatigue—something deeper, unspoken.
Amelia walked out to the corrals to greet him, her smile faltering when she saw his condition—dust-caked and weary. Their gazes locked, and the distance between them trembled—so easy to bridge or shatter with a single word he couldn’t bring himself to say. Stay. Stay and help. Stay with me. Stay.
All day, the word lingered in his thoughts. She managed things so well. How easy it would be to ask her to remain. To help carry the load.
Knowing how heavy that load was stopped him.
“Supper’s ready.” Her invitation was soft, tempting him even more. He forced himself back from the edge of that moment. “I’ll be right there.” His horse’s flanks huffed under his hand as he led him to the pump and scrubbed at the dust covering both of them.
Smoothing his damp hair back with a palm, he went to the house.
Paused at the threshold to take in the scene.
Amelia bustled over the stove, ladling gravy and heaping potatoes into bowls.
Pa sat at the table, his face unusually still, as if today’s worries had let him rest. Poppy’s excited babble and Kat’s bright laughter completed the picture of contentment.
Zach stepped into the kitchen. If only it could always be this peaceful.
Amelia placed the platters on the table. “It’s ready.”
His heart overflowing with gratitude for the slice of calm, he struggled to keep his voice steady as he offered grace.
Later, as the last plates clattered into the dishpan, he hovered in the doorway, staring out at the dimming sky, waiting for Amelia to join him.
“Long day?” she asked.
He let the question hang in the air before he answered. “Just more of the same. Not enough water and too much Sobel.” Not wanting to dwell on the man’s unceasing harassment, he asked how her day had gone.
“More of the same.” She echoed his words. “Too many bottles for Gil.”
A weary sigh rose in his throat. “I’m guessing he didn’t help.” That meant Amelia carried heavy buckets of water on her own, and cooked all the meals. Tasks that were Gil’s responsibility.
“Pa and I prayed in your ma’s special place.” Her quiet voice broke into his thoughts. “It seemed to calm him.”
“He’s a lot of responsibility. Maybe too much.”
Although they weren’t touching, he felt her stiffen.
“Have I ever complained or not done what needed to be done? Zach, you misjudge me if you think it’s too much for me.”
“No, you never have. And I doubt you ever would.”
“Need you sound so disappointed in that?”
How was he to explain it was many things, but not that? “I’m not. I’m in admiration.” Daring her rejection, he draped an arm across her back. Smiled when she didn’t shrug away. Three deep breaths relaxed his own shoulders, and he pushed aside everything but the enjoyment of this moment.
“Look at the sky.”
She tipped her head upward and gasped. “It’s like black velvet, the stars countless pinpricks of light. So beautiful.”
The silvery light danced on her face.
“Yes, so beautiful.” He didn’t mean the stars.
He would not let any of his mental arguments steal enjoyment from this moment.