Chapter Twenty
As the children were at school during the day, Amelia and Cody were alone for lunch.
At first, it was easy enough to avoid the house.
He’d skipped meals in favor of work plenty of times in his life, so it wasn’t like it was a particular hardship.
Somewhere about the second week of Amelia’s tenure, however, he’d grown a bit indignant about the whole thing and had started turning up for his noonday meal.
He liked to eat while sitting in the shade on the bottom step of the porch.
It allowed him to keep an eye on the goings-on of the ranch while also giving him time away from work.
He also didn’t have to go through the trouble of pulling his boots off just to put them back on again.
Arthur would join him occasionally, which saved him from having to have awkward conversations with Amelia.
This proved to be a moot point, as she seemed as uninterested in conversation as he did at first. Arthur, that traitor, had taken to declining Cody’s invitations for lunch with an unapologetically mischievous smile.
At some point in the weeks that Amelia had charge of the house, she’d learned what it was that Cody preferred to eat and quietly provided it.
Even more baffling was the fact that she’d quickly caught on that he was partial to a sweet shrub with lunch.
It was a tradition started by his father, who swore that the vinegar revived a man on the hottest of days.
And then, most confounding of all, was that Cody couldn’t pinpoint at what stage she had started to gently lay a cold, damp cloth against the back of his sun-reddened neck.
He’d sit down on the wooden step with a groan, stretch his legs out in front of him, and just like that, Amelia was laying the cool cloth on his skin.
There were days he fancied he could hear his skin sizzle in response.
He was cooled and refreshed by the time she returned with his lunch.
Cody was fairly certain that she’d started to stay with him out on the porch on a day when it was raining.
She’d commented that it was a nice change; he’d responded that it was good for the grass, and that was that.
She’d bring her own plate and sit in his chair behind him and to the right, just within sight out of the corner of his eye.
To his great relief, Amelia was the sort of woman who could sit silently.
She wasn’t prone to chatter, which was the thing Cody detested most about any social interaction.
They’d just sit silently together, eating without comment.
Occasionally, they’d spot someone going up the road, and they’d muse on who it could be.
Without Cody quite knowing how, he’d begun to not only engage Amelia in conversation about the ranch and the town at large, but to also ask for her opinion.
It had started with a conflict among the ranch hands, and Amelia had suggested some games to help resolve the tension.
Cody had scoffed, but, unable to stand any more bickering between his workers, had arranged a tournament of horseshoes. There’d been no more fighting.
They spoke about the weather, the children, the livestock, and the goings-on of the various people of Gunnison. Amelia had a sharp wit, and Cody found that he liked having the news of the town relayed via her bemused observations.
So familiar was their routine that one day, near the end of the school year, as he was sitting on the porch working through a plate of fried vegetables from their garden, beans, and roast beef, he simply started speaking to her without preamble.
“Radishes coming in good this year,” he said, forking a few slices into his mouth.
“I’m rather pleased with them myself,” Amelia responded, still standing.
Cody glanced up at her, then whipped around to look at her more fully. She was wearing a plain walking suit of sage green and was busy fussing about trying to pin a small straw hat to her head. Her face was scrunched, and she had bitten her lower lip a little in concentration.
She’s going somewhere, Cody realized with unexpected disappointment. Cody cleared his throat and hunched over his plate farther, shoveling another forkful of food. “Heading into town?” he asked between bites.
“School,” Amelia replied. She stepped forward more into his line of sight. She pulled the hatpin out and re-threaded it through the crown of her hat. “It’s one of my days to teach the girls straw plaiting.”
Cody nodded without meeting her eyes, focusing on his plate again. “Walking?”
“I think so,” Amelia said. “I’m fond of a good walk, and there hasn’t been any more trouble with wolves.”
“Lunch?” he asked.
“I’ve already eaten, and Miss Monroe and the girls have been kind enough to supply me with comestibles most afternoons I’m there,” she said.
“Hope they’re not expecting too much of you,” Cody grumbled. He was out of sorts, unable to pinpoint the reason.
“I don’t mind,” Amelia replied easily. “I like the girls, and it’s nice to have any chance to get out of the house for a few hours.”
Cody glanced up at her again. She had finished pinning her hat and took a moment to adjust her jacket. Something about the color and lightness made him think of the first shoots of spring, fresh and green and wonderful after a bleak winter. He shook his head and took another determined bite.
“Well,” she said, “I’m off. I’ll get a ride home from Arthur.”
“Arthur?” Cody asked, his brows shooting upward in surprise. “He was going into town for some leather soap and a new harrow.”
Amelia turned back to Cody and gave him a significant, pursed-lip look. “And I expect his errands will just happen to take him past the schoolhouse for no reason at all,” she quipped.
Cody chewed slowly. “He still sniffing around Miss Monroe, then?”
“Oh yes,” Amelia said. “He’s putting all his charms to work on her.”
Cody grunted. “It working?”
“I’m not sure,” Amelia said thoughtfully. “She doesn’t seem repulsed by his attentions, but I don’t think she’s the type to swoon at a handful of violets and a cheeky grin, either.”
“He brought her flowers?” Cody inquired, curious despite himself.
“Mmhmm,” Amelia hummed. “It is a traditional courting gift.”
Cody couldn’t quite place it, but there was something significant about the way she said that. Rather than trying to sort it out, he hurried right on past it. “Well. I hope the situation gets resolved one way or the other—don’t want my foreman mooning around, distracted by petticoat talk.”
“Shall I see if I can figure out more of the particulars?” Amelia said with a cat-like grin.
“If you can,” Cody said. “I suppose you’re likely to have more luck with that than I am.”
Her grin widened. “Probably,” she agreed. “Though I’d dearly love to see you attending an afternoon tea for the gossip.”
“Be off with you,” he growled in response, waving her away. This made Amelia laugh, completely unfazed by his gruffness. Secretly, he was pleased that she was sturdy enough to withstand his hard exterior; she wasn’t a wilting flower by any stretch of the imagination.
She turned to begin the walk up the drive.
She hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Cody jumped up, making his fork rattle on his plate.
Amelia turned back to him in alarm, and he hastily set his plate down.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, chewing the inside of his cheek in irritation at his own awkwardness.
“Harvest festival’s coming up,” he said with as much casualness as he could muster.
“Mm, I’ve seen the posters,” Amelia agreed. “I gather it’s an important date on the Gunnison calendar.”
“Yep,” Cody said with a nod. “Of course, it’s not really at harvest time. Always held when the cattle are out to pasture. Games, food, competitions. Bull riding and roping, too.”
“Bull riding? Really?” Amelia said, her eyes wide with both concern and intrigue. “I hope you won’t be participating.”
Cody shook his head. “I leave it to the younger men, though I did take home the prize a couple of times in my youth.” He glanced at her face, hoping that she would be suitably impressed.
To his relief, she did seem to be, which gave him confidence.
He soldiered on. “As you were looking to get out of the house, I was thinking, perhaps you’d…
That is, if you wouldn’t object, you might… Attend. With me. Together.”
“Oh!” Amelia said, her eyelashes fluttering for a moment, clearly not expecting this invitation.
“There’s always dancing the last evening,” he hurried on. “The whole town makes an evening of it. We don’t exactly throw many balls here.”
Amelia considered for a moment, her face thoughtful. Cody resisted the urge to fidget as she did so, eaten up by nerves like he was a young buck hesitantly asking a girl to walk out with him the first time.
“I confess I never thought of you as a dancer,” she said at last.
“I’m not,” Cody said honestly. “I like the music, though. It’s a good evening.”
As he watched her face, a smile slowly spread across her lips, lighting up her whole face like a sunrise.
He’d never seen her smile like that at him, and he found that he liked it.
He liked it quite a bit, in fact. The smile reached her eyes, making them tilt upward at the corners.
Idly, he wondered what it would take to make her look at him like that again.
“I’d be pleased to attend with you,” she said.
Cody felt his chest swell up with a combination of pride and eager anticipation.
His heart beat so loudly that he was half-convinced she could hear it.
Outwardly, he nodded before silently touching his hat.
He watched her depart, feeling a little smug and more than a little eager about the impending outing.
The whole town would see her on his arm, and this was a very pleasing notion.