Chapter Seventeen
Night was falling by the time Amelia found a quiet moment.
Between tending to Ruby and the household chores, she didn’t have a spare second during the day.
In a way, she was grateful to be kept so busy—it kept her from drawing comparisons between caring for Ruby and Kate.
At least with Ruby, she knew that she would recover; tending to Kate, no matter how potent the remedies, always felt a bit hopeless.
It was only after dinner had been done, the kitchen cleaned for the night, and the children put to bed that there was time for her to address something that had been weighing on her mind all day.
As quietly as she could, she made her way to the front porch. Cody was out there as he was most nights, in that same ratty old chair of his. He’d sit there with a block of wood and a knife in his hand, but more often than not, he’d simply stare into the distance.
Gently, she pushed open the screen door, then hesitated in the doorway. Cody had his feet up on the wooden crate, but he put them down when he saw her. Amelia started to withdraw, not wishing to disturb his peace. She knew that this was the only quiet he got in a day, too, and hated to intrude.
“Wait,” Cody said, standing suddenly. “You can stay. If you want, that is.” He glanced around awkwardly and seemed to realize that there was only the one chair on the porch. He gestured down toward it with a nod.
Amelia, amused in spite of her trepidation, opted instead to stand near the railing on the porch and look out over the ranch.
The grass had greened up a bit since the bout of rain, and everything seemed a little merrier and more refreshed in the rising moonlight.
Far in the distance, craggy mountains erupted out of the rolling hills of the range.
Somewhere among those crags and rocks was the Taylor River with its fabled banks speckled with gold.
Maybe I should just become a prospector, save everyone else the trouble, she thought bemusedly.
“I, uh… that is, I wanted to thank you,” Cody said. Amelia turned to him, and he jammed his hands into the pockets of his denim trousers. “You were good to Ruby today. I know she’s in good hands with you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Amelia answered easily. “It’s not necessary.”
“Well. Still,” Cody said, shuffling slightly.
“I think I owe you an apology, too. I just get so worked up about the kids, and… I can’t bear to lose anyone else.
” He looked up suddenly, his brown eyes locking onto Amelia’s.
She got the distinct impression that he was trying to say something to her without saying it, but she couldn’t fathom what it was.
That man’s as changeable as a summer sky, she thought. Still, she couldn’t fault him entirely; she knew all too well what it was like to live with the past haunting her. “I understand. It’s impossible to be the same after losing family.”
Cody nodded and looked away. He put his hands on the porch railing, running his fingers absently over the timbers. “Your parents?”
Amelia nodded. “And my younger sister. Our parents died when we were young, so it was just us growing up. We left home together after…” She paused and slid a glance at Cody, but he was still focused on some point in the distance. “After it became clear there was nothing for us in Kansas.”
“How did…?” he asked. “I mean, if you don’t mind my asking,” he added hurriedly.
“She was always sickly. She was born feet-first, and she got water in her lungs or something. One winter, she caught lung fever, and she just couldn’t recover,” Amelia said softly. It stung, as it always did, but time had softened the edges of the hurt.
Cody stood up straighter and stared at Amelia. “Logan was a breech, too,” he said. “Anne just… faded away.”
Amelia reached out and put her hand on Cody’s forearm, surprising them both.
To her greater surprise, Cody didn’t pull away but put his own hand on top of hers for a moment.
She got the sense that he respected pain, having dealt with a good amount of it himself.
Amelia bit her lip, her resolve wavering.
Maryjane’s letter weighed on her. She had considered burning it, had even been at the point of throwing it into the fireplace, but something had stopped her.
It was like a weight around her, keeping her from moving forward in her life.
I’m like that damned mariner and his albatross, she thought sadly.
At the same time, she couldn’t stop re-reading it, over and over, as if it would offer some reassurance that Dean had made it to Arizona but no farther in his search for her.
“You’ve spent a long time living in the past,” Amelia said. “I know what that’s like—I’ve done too much of it myself,” she admitted.
“Maybe,” Cody said, his face thoughtful.
“Isn’t it lonely there? In the past, I mean. There’s only sadness there, and you’ve got your children in the present, and…” She trailed off, suddenly unable to look at him. “Don’t you ever consider your future?”
“Not really, no,” Cody said, his brow creasing. “Don’t see much point in it. Tomorrow’s gonna be much the same as today.”
Amelia nodded slowly. His answer didn’t come as a surprise; she’d more than half-expected it.
Gently, she withdrew her hand, sliding it from between Cody’s arm and his hand.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully.
“I was wrong to try to force you to the altar. For that, I’m sorry.
Truly,” she said sincerely. “I just… didn’t want the past to catch up to me, either, I suppose. ”
Cody tilted his head, his eyes searching her face. “Meaning?”
Amelia sighed and tapped her palm against the porch railing.
“I’ve got more baggage than the trunk I came here with, and I don’t want any of you getting mixed up in it.
I really should be moving on.” Though she had convinced herself this was the correct course of action, the moment she spoke the words aloud, her heart gave a painful squeeze.
“No!” Cody said suddenly, surprising them both. Amelia stared at him. “No,” he said again, more firmly. “You’re good for us. The children need you—leaving would be cruel.”
Amelia sighed. She knew that he was right. “I imagine it would be,” she agreed. “But I worry that staying would be far more cruel in the long run.”
She looked down and then out at the landscape again, avoiding Cody’s gaze.
More to the point, she was avoiding his judgment and the inevitable questions that would come with it.
She dreaded it but reasoned that it was only fair to answer his questions should he ask them; this was a solemn promise to herself and to him, though he didn’t know it yet.
She was living in his home and caring for his children, after all; while she wouldn’t necessarily volunteer information, she wouldn’t lie to him.
“It seems to me,” Cody said, speaking slowly as if searching for the words as he said them, “that what you’ve been lacking is security. If… if marrying you will give you that, then I’ll do it.”
Amelia’s head whipped around, and she stared at Cody. “What?” she breathed, scarcely believing what she’d heard.
“I’ll do it,” Cody said, his face set. “I’ll marry you.”