Chapter Eleven #2
From either side of the stage, Ruby and Logan appeared.
They walked to the center of the stage, with Ruby sashaying like a cat, preening in her fine dress.
It was a pink silk that positively set her hair aflame in the candlelight.
The dress was made for a shorter woman, and Amelia had had to be creative in fitting it to Ruby’s slender frame.
Even so, with her hair put up and twirling a matching pink parasol with white fringe, she was a picture.
I wonder if she looks like her mother, Amelia pondered. The thought arrested her, and she cut her eyes to Cody for a moment. His gaze was riveted on the stage, his face unreadable.
Logan, fidgeting shyly, cut a somewhat less impressive figure in his blue canvas jacket.
He started to speak, cleared his throat, and tried again.
“Here… here we are, in the thriving town of Gunnison,” he said, his voice just loud enough to be heard.
The entire audience leaned in, straining to hear.
“Why yes, dear husband,” Ruby replied, her voice carrying out from the stage easily at several times the volume of Logan’s. There was a bark of laughter from somewhere behind Amelia, and she turned to give a withering look in the general direction it had originated from.
There was another pointed round of shushing from the narrator, and everyone settled back down. Ruby, undeterred, tossed her head proudly.
“What an admirable thing it is, husband, to carry on your father’s mission to feed the people of Gunnison,” she recited, looking expectantly at Logan.
He looked down at his feet, then glanced out at the audience. Amelia nodded encouragingly, and he straightened up slightly. “Yes,” he said. “But I sh-sh-should like to do more for the people. I would see our sons and… daughters educated.”
“A fine ambition,” Ruby thundered. “But how shall you do this?”
“I will fund… the-building-of-a-schoolhouse,” Logan finished in a rush.
“A marvelous idea! Then our children shall have charge over their own futures. I will organize the donations, and we will do this together!” Ruby concluded.
A round of applause met that. Ruby made a grandiose curtsy, falling in on herself like a collapsing soufflé.
Logan, his hands clenched into fists, made a sharp, short bow and scurried hastily off stage, prompting more laughter.
Ruby, noticing her scene partner was gone, glanced about for a moment before hurrying after him.
“Logan!” Ruby hissed. “I was still taking my bow!”
This time, Amelia had to chuckle as well, though she covered her mouth to hide it as best she could. She glanced over to Cody, worried that he would notice, and she’d be further in his bad books.
She needn’t have worried, though. Though she could only see him in profile, his face was clearly stricken.
His dark eyes were wet, and he clenched his jaw, swallowing hard.
Evidently feeling her stare, he glanced at Amelia and then quickly away.
Unnerved by his reaction, Amelia settled back into her chair to wait the rest of the evening out.
***
“Now, no shilly-shallying, I want you both off to bed as quick as you can,” Amelia said to the children as they all climbed down from the wagon that Cody had pulled up in front of the house. “You can’t slack on your chores just because you had an evening of excitement.”
“Yes, Mrs. Amelia,” they both intoned.
“But you both really did wonderfully,” she added, smiling broadly at them. Logan and Ruby returned her smile and resumed their trudge into the house. “Don’t forget to snuff your candles!” she called after them.
It was properly dark now, with only the lanterns hung on the front of the wagon and the lone lamp left hanging on the porch to break the darkness.
Amelia started after the children but was stopped by Cody clearing his throat.
She turned around and found that he, too, had climbed down from the wagon and was staring at her intently.
His face was sharply contrasted by the low light of the wagon lantern, all sharp angles and planes.
“Yes?” Amelia asked in a clipped voice. It had been a long day, and she was not particularly in the mood to be raked over the coals again.
“I, uh… You were helping the children,” he stated.
“That’s correct,” Amelia replied.
Cody nodded for a moment, then touched the bandana slung just inside his collar, pulling absently at the knot. “I hadn’t considered how the children might want to remember their mother. It just… hurt too much to think on.” He fell silent, and the pain was nearly palpable.
Despite her irritation, Amelia couldn’t help but feel for him. She didn’t soften, not exactly, but her thoughts were a little less vinegary. “Yes, well,” she said, folding her arms, “I know how that feels.”
He glanced at her, his dark eyes momentarily inquisitive, but he settled on nodding.
“Well. Be that as it may, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like an old dog,” he said.
He stopped his fidgeting and looked at Amelia squarely in the eye.
“Always had a bad temper—my pa boxed my ears for it more than once as a youngster.” He rubbed at one of his ears absently as if remembering the sensation.
“You? Having a bad temper? I can’t imagine such a thing,” Amelia replied dryly.
Cody shot her a look, trying to gauge whether she was being serious. She allowed him a small smile, which seemed to mollify him. As far as Amelia was concerned, he deserved a great deal of teasing.
He cleared his throat again and fidgeted with his hands, opening and closing his fists at his side.
“Still. Sorry about that. I forgot that she was their ma just as much as she was my wife,” Cody said, his gaze growing distant for a moment.
His face softened in the low light, and for just a moment, Amelia caught a glimpse of him as a younger man before worry had carved him into a piece of flint.
He shook himself suddenly, like a dog, and he fleetingly met Amelia’s eye again. “Anyway. You, uh… you can stay.”
Amelia arched a brow at that.
“That is,” Cody said, glancing at her and then at the ground, “I would like it if you would stay. Please.”
Amelia took a moment to chew on his words. “Very well,” she agreed at last. It was a great deal of work to keep the satisfied smile from her face as she turned away from him. She was under no illusions as to her future—she doubted that this would be the last time they locked horns.
Still, as she made her way to her room, she couldn’t help but take a moment on the stairs to exhale slowly, her hand to her chest. It was suddenly a little easier to breathe.