Chapter Twenty-One
If it weren’t for Cody’s steady presence and the unflinching strength of his arm, Amelia might have felt so self-conscious that she would have returned home instead of being able to enjoy the harvest festival.
Though they were well and truly married, there were still a few suspicious glances shot their way behind hands and fans.
The fact that Amelia’s dress was a few seasons out of date also didn’t help.
She knew that the bodice wasn’t cut as fashionably as some of the wealthier town ladies’, but it was such a cheery composition that she couldn’t bear to let the dress go.
The bodice was white cotton with small green polka dots.
The collar and sleeves were striped in matching green and white, and a jaunty bow at the bust added a fun element.
The skirt was solid green cotton, but it sported such pleating that it was clearly an item of some quality.
Amelia and Kate had spent so many evenings pleating the trim that Amelia thought her fingers would never recover.
Amelia had chosen a straw “flower pot” hat she had made herself. Instead of silk or paper flowers, she had opted for fresh ones in celebration of the abundant flora that had sprung up around the valley. It was perched at a jaunty angle, highlighting the bearing of her head and her long neck.
She’d been on the point of chucking the whole ensemble off and starting over when she’d descended the stairs at home.
She felt too tall, too gangly, too ostentatious in a dress that bordered on garish when compared to her usual home wear.
All thoughts on that subject had flown out of her head when she saw the way Cody stared at her.
She fixed that image in her mind whenever she caught one of the townspeople staring at her, though it put her in great danger of blushing.
I’m not going to give their small opinions any more weight, she resolved. What should I care when my husband looks at me like that?
Proudly, she tossed her head and reaffirmed her grip on Cody’s elbow.
This seemed to please him, for he held his head high as they wound their way through the field outside of town that was now crowded with booths and displays.
Though she wasn’t as open in her regard as he had been, she, too, found that she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Cody’s handsome jaw and profile as they went through the crowd.
“A camel!” Logan shouted, breaking into Amelia’s musings. He seized Amelia’s free hand, squeezing it to get her attention. She’d never seen him so excited by something before. He pointed the way with his other hand, and Amelia craned her neck to see where he was looking.
There was indeed a pen of strange animals that had been brought in by train. There was a hand-painted sign that boasted a real crocodile, a camel, and a zebra. Logan was practically vibrating at Amelia’s side with barely contained excitement. She laughed indulgently.
“Go on then,” she said, scooting him off. “Ruby, watch after your brother—I’ll be greatly vexed if he gets eaten by something.” Logan was off like a shot, and Ruby hurried after him, shouting at him to slow down the whole time.
“You think they’ll be all right?” Cody asked.
“They’ll be fine,” Amelia said, placing a hand on his arm. “Let the young people enjoy the day.”
“Very well,” Cody grumbled. “What would you like to see?”
Amelia glanced around. There were dozens of displays ranging from prize-winning pies and pastries to enormous vegetables.
There were even booths set up where fast-talking barkers hawked new inventions from the factories in the eastern states.
Outside of these booths were a variety of pens where livestock was held in anticipation of being judged.
A whoop went up from the crowd that was outside the booths, and everyone turned to see what it was. Many people pressed toward the sound, and Amelia followed suit. “What’s happened?” she asked.
“They’re bringing in mustangs from the range,” Cody explained. “There’s a round-up and auction every year. Would you like to see?”
“I would,” Amelia said.
Together, they made their way to the livestock area where a large temporary corral had been erected.
It was the site of the various sports, the roping and riding events.
Amelia glanced up at Cody and, judging from the look on his face, suspected that he longed to be among the competitors.
Still, he’d chosen to escort her instead, and that surely meant something.
At the far end of the corral, a mass of snorting, wild-eyed horses was being driven into the enclosure.
A collection of cowboys and men from town rode behind them, goading them into a gallop that stirred up a cloud of dust that hung in the warm air.
The horses streamed into the corral to the great excitement of the town.
“Look!” Amelia said, pointing at a familiar figure. “There’s Arthur!”
“If there’s a chance to look gallant on the back of a horse, you can be sure that he’ll be there,” Cody said wryly.
Amelia laughed in agreement. “The man does like to show off. Oh, but see,” she said, leaning in closer to Cody. “There’s Miss Monroe,” she said in a lower voice. “I think all of his posturing this year is for her.”
“Probably,” Cody said, and Amelia could hear the amusement in his voice.
Amelia watched the horses as they swirled around one another, their heads up, snorting and squealing.
Unable to help herself, she leaned forward, intrigued by their wild beauty.
“That one is quite striking,” she said, pointing at a dark bay with white stockings that extended up over its knees.
It sported a blue eye on one side, with which it regarded the crowd defiantly.
“She is,” Cody agreed. “Nice conformation. You’ve an eye for horses.”
“No,” Amelia said, ruefully shaking her head. “I just liked her color.”
“Should we bid on her?” Cody asked, looking down at Amelia.
She bit her lip, flattered that he was asking her. “She might make a good addition to the stable. You wanted to breed your riding horse, right?”
“That’s true enough. She might make a good mount in time, too,” Cody agreed. He excused himself to go talk to the men running the auction, gesturing and placing his bids.
Amelia watched him. She liked the casual but firm way he spoke to others, confident but not arrogant.
She liked the way he bent one knee as he stood.
She liked the way he stood above most of the crowd.
Though he was past his thirtieth year, he was still straight-backed and trim of waist. He was broad-shouldered in the way of men who work outdoors.
My husband is handsome, Amelia thought with a start.
She’d known objectively that he was—enough people had commented on it that their observations alone would have clued her in—but it was an entirely different thing to realize it on her own.
Previously, his chiseled face and dark eyes had merely been things that she’d noticed about him, like looking at a piece of art or a fine dress in a shop window.
He was comely, no doubt about that, but it hadn’t actually reached Amelia until now.
Now, standing in the golden sunlight of early evening, Amelia couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He was wearing his good white shirt and a gray weskit.
He was clean-shaven for once, and while it was a nice change, part of her found herself longing for his customary scruff.
He caught her looking at him, and while she was inclined to flush at him seeing her staring so, she refused to be cowed. She met his gaze directly.
His attention slid back to the horsemaster reluctantly, and he wrapped up whatever negotiations were taking place.
They shook hands and parted ways. Other bidders swarmed up, everyone jockeying for position.
Cody, seemingly impervious to the chaos, slipped through the crowd easily.
His eyes were on Amelia and never left hers.
For one impetuous moment, Amelia thought that she might just kiss him, right there in front of everyone.
She dug her fingers into her palm hard enough that they bit even through her lace gloves.
Get a hold of yourself, she ordered. Stop acting like a girl fresh out of the schoolroom. You are too old for this nonsense.
Even so, it took a great deal of self-control for her to merely smile at him. She longed to take his arm, or even more daring, his hand. He met her expression with one of mild delight and gestured at her with a ticket in his hand.
“You got her?” Amelia inquired when he was close enough.
“Sure did,” he replied triumphantly. “We’ll collect her tomorrow. Good thing we moved so quickly—I wasn’t the only one who wanted to bid on her.”
“Well done!” Amelia said approvingly. This seemed to please Cody, who took his place next to her again.
In the distance, a drum was struck a few times. “Oh!” Amelia said. “Is the dancing about to start?”
“Seems so,” Cody said. “Shall we go watch?”
“No,” Amelia said slyly, taking Cody by the hand and surprising them both. “Let’s go dance!”
Before he could object, Amelia was leading him toward the wooden platform that had been erected for the dancers.
She didn’t pretend that she was a graceful butterfly on the boards, but she was fond of dancing and had so few opportunities to do so that she didn’t care.
The band consisted of a motley assortment of fiddlers, an accordion, a drum that looked like it had been pinched from an army outpost, and a man who played a pair of spoons with all the gravitas of a concert pianist.
Despite his early protestations, Cody took Amelia willingly enough in his arms, preparing for the first dance.
It was a lively polka, and he hesitated, clearly not sure how comfortable Amelia was with being flung around.
At the opening notes, Amelia took his hand and firmly pressed it into her waist with her own.
“Boldness,” she encouraged him quietly.
This was all the encouragement that he needed.
Despite his insistence to the contrary, Amelia found, to her great delight, that Cody was a competent dancer.
He didn’t have the grace of some men, but he had strength and presence, and never once trod on her toes.
Though hesitant at first, he was soon reeling her in with an easy enthusiasm.
Before she knew it, Amelia was smiling, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
Perhaps it was just the simple joy of dancing.
Perhaps it was the way that Cody’s own face responded to her smile with a crooked one of his own.
Whatever it was, Amelia couldn’t remember a time she had felt so happy, so light.
The other dancers whirled about her in a kaleidoscope of colorful dresses, punctuating the air with an occasional whoop of enthusiasm.
The wooden platform fairly shook as all the heels on it struck in unison.
It was a wild, reckless dance, and Amelia felt like she might have simply spun off into the sunset if Cody hadn’t been there to anchor her.
He caught her by the waist as they promenaded side by side.
She looked up at him and let all of her feelings shine forth in her expression, not caring who saw.
He stared down at her, nearly stumbling.
The world outside of the two of them seemed slow, winding down like a music box that had run its course.
Amelia gazed at Cody, unable to take her eyes from his face, drinking him in like he was a glass of lemonade.
Her eyes drifted down, fixing on his lips.
His grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly, not holding her down, but merely asking permission.
The urge to melt into him was almost overpowering.
She tilted her head up, blinking languidly at him.
She didn’t care that it was poor manners to be affectionate with one’s husband in public in such a manner.
She only cared that he was leaning closer to her, so close that she could smell the scent of leather and smoke and the shaving soap that he’d used earlier in the day.
Her eyes were fluttering closed; he was leaning in, and all that she could really think about was the fact that he was going to kiss her, that she wanted him to kiss her. Amelia was fully prepared to lean into the sensation, letting go of her apprehension and fear for just a moment.
A flash of movement caught her attention at the last moment.
It wasn’t anything overt, just someone moving in the crowd.
A familiar leer over one of the bystanders’ shoulders had her stiffening, her eyes snapping back open.
Those sharp gray eyes, the mouth that didn’t smile so much as it curled up like a snake about to strike…
And then, in a moment, he was gone. Amelia ground her heels into the floor, wrenching both of them to a halt.
The other dancers behind them, fed up with their lollygagging, grumbled and complained, stepping around them.
She didn’t care. Her eyes desperately searched the crowd, automatically clutching Cody’s arm without realizing that she had done so.
All that mattered to her in that moment was that she was certain that she’d seen Dean. Her worst fear had manifested.
“Amelia?” Cody asked, his voice alarmed.
“It’s…” she began, but she didn’t know how to continue that sentence.
How could she begin to explain? He’d never forgive her.
She wasn’t sure she’d forgive herself for putting Cody and the children in this position.
“The children,” she whispered. She looked up at Cody.
“We should—we should find the children,” she said haltingly, trying desperately to rein in her panic.
“We don’t want them to get overexcited.”
Cody stared at her for a moment, assessing.
Amelia hoped that he would accept her excuse.
To her great relief, he calmly looped her hand through the crook of his elbow and led her from the dance floor.
He didn’t reproach her, but she couldn’t help but sense that a wall of some sort had come back down between them.
Amelia shook her head hard, nearly dislodging her hat. You have more important things to worry about.