Chapter One #2
“Wait,” Amelia said, pulling back again, but more gently this time.
Her mind raced as she tried to think of ways to delay or waylay him entirely.
She was keenly aware that if she went into his house, there was a distinct possibility that she would never leave it again.
“Wait,” she repeated, more gently this time.
“Give me a moment to pack things, yes? And to tend to Kate. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be seen with her in this state,” Amelia said, nodding down toward Kate.
Kate, for her part, blinked up at Amelia. She was still clutching her face, her large hazel eyes wet with tears, and her lip red with blood.
“I’d hate for someone to see and—and to misunderstand,” Amelia continued, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“You know how people talk.” Hating herself and yet oddly proud, Amelia angled her body so that she was nearly leaning into Dean now instead of resisting him.
“Give us a little time to prepare so that we might arrive at your house in a more presentable manner. I wouldn’t want us to embarrass you.
” Amelia looked down at herself, running her hand over her old apron and wiggling her bare feet for good measure.
She could see Dean considering, his cool eyes narrowing.
Amelia stayed silent, willing her face to betray nothing.
Dean hummed his assent, releasing her. “Very well,” he allowed graciously.
“I’ll give you a couple of hours to prepare yourselves.
” He reached into the watch pocket of his weskit and consulted a silver timepiece.
“You’ve got until four o’clock,” he said.
“Be ready—if I have to wait on you, you shan’t like the consequences. ”
“We’ll be packed and ready,” Amelia answered. Dean peered at her again as if trying to discern a lie, but could find none, for she had responded with a pure heart. They would be packed by the aforementioned time.
Dean nodded, glanced down at Kate, and departed.
Amelia didn’t move until she heard him leave in his high-flyer.
She could see him whip up his horses, leaving a cloud of dust behind them on the dry dirt road.
The very second that she was confident that he was gone, she bent down and gently lifted Kate by her elbow.
“Are you alright?” she inquired, peering into Kate’s face. Kate nodded, her eyes closing briefly as Amelia gently dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her apron. “What were you thinking?” she admonished lightly. Now that the immediate danger was passed, fear gripped her, twisting her up inside.
“You’re my sister,” Kate answered simply. “You’re the only one I’ve got.”
Amelia absorbed that for a moment. She wasn’t sure whether Kate meant she was her only sister or the only person in her life.
Both are true, Amelia lamented inwardly.
She looked Kate over again, guilt and shame coloring her heart as much as fear.
Her younger sister was always just a little too thin, a little too pale, a little too tired.
For as long as Amelia could remember, she’d always been afraid that Kate would get hurt somehow and had treated her as gently as a butterfly.
Maybe that wasn’t a fair assessment, Amelia allowed. Though it must have stung terribly, Kate didn’t flinch or wince as Amelia tended to her. She merely watched Amelia with her round eyes.
“What are we going to do now?” Kate asked, finally. “And don’t tell me that you are thinking of going to that awful man’s house, because I know better.”
Amelia gently held Kate’s chin in her fingers, turning her face to catch the light better. “We should get some vinegar on that when we can,” Amelia said, hoping that Kate wouldn’t notice how she avoided the question.
“Amelia,” Kate said gravely, catching her hand. “You cannot be serious.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Amelia answered softly. She folded Kate’s hand between her own.
“I’m not made of glass,” Kate said, her dark brows furrowing together slightly. “I’m not going to break.”
Silence passed between them in which they stared at one another. The only sounds were the cawing of a distant bird and the rising hum of insects in the heat of the day, slowly descending.
“Alright,” Amelia said, nodding. “This is what I think: We sell Grandma’s silver spoons, the ones Pa hid under the floorboard,” she said, her plan formulating from half-hoped dreams she hadn’t ever dared to speak aloud before. “We get train tickets to somewhere else.”
“Where?” Kate asked, her hand tightening on Amelia’s.
“Anywhere,” Amelia answered. “Whichever train leaves first, that’s the one we take.”
“And then what?” Kate’s face was dubious, or maybe it was just her swollen lip pulling the corner of her mouth down. “Dean will just come after us—he has the means.”
“We’ll keep moving,” Amelia said. She released Kate and began to pace.
“We’ll pack light. You know how Pa always told us those stories about the Indians on the plains?
” Kate nodded slowly, her brow still beetled.
“We’ll be like them: never in one place for too long, always a step ahead.
Who knows, with enough distance, we might be able to lose Dean entirely. We could be brand-new people.”
“We could?”
“Yes,” Amelia said, forcing a bright tone. “We could be post girls, or singers on the stage.”
“You can’t carry a tune,” Kate said flatly, which prompted a dour look from Amelia.
“We’ll make our way,” Amelia said. “We’ll have each other, that’s what matters.” She took Kate’s hands again, pressing them emphatically.
Kate didn’t answer immediately. She turned to look at the old house, the boards faded to grey from rain and sun in equal measure.
There were no glass windows, merely oiled canvas, as they hadn’t had the money for real glass.
Their father had put the house together, hoping for gold on the sad little stream that meandered through the back of the property.
Like the wooden boards, those dreams had also faded to grey nothingness.
“What about Mama?” Kate asked at last. Her gaze lingered on a little cross far behind the house, out past the creek, barely visible from where they stood. It was beneath a dead tree, the twisted branches providing the only shade.
“We’ll take her memory with us. She’d understand,” Amelia said with authority. Kate would have to take her word for it.
“Alright,” Kate relented. “You go pack, and I’ll go see if Old Jackson will give us a ride into town.”
Impulsively, Amelia hugged Kate to her. Even through her corset and layers of clothing, she could feel how thin Kate was.
Guilt galvanized her, spurring her into action.
She released Kate and turned to the house, not even bothering to finish the laundry.
Impulsively, she stopped, turned around, and gave the rusted metal washtub a shove.
It topped over, dingy, sudsy water cascading over the ground.
There, Amelia thought, tossing her head. Let us vanish like water under the sun, too.