Chapter Thirty-Five
Amelia froze, her body refusing to obey her for a moment. Anger and fear swirled within her, and she fought equally strong impulses to run and to fight. She gathered herself up, fully ready to have it out with Dean.
No, she thought, checking herself harshly. That isn’t your role. You have to play your part.
With great effort, she took a deep, shuddering breath and called on all of her experience on the stage. Those evenings and nights watching the actors while she prepared to do her readings, the art of pretending sentiment that she didn’t really feel. She let her lip tremble.
“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice quavering.
Dean cocked his head, gesturing flippantly with his gun. “What, no greeting? Surely this is not how you’re going to say hello to your fiancée after so long apart. Your manners have only grown more uncouth out here,” he tutted.
Amelia pressed her lips together. “My manners aren’t in question,” she said.
“After all, I’m not the one kidnapping people, am I?
” She knew full well that he would smell a rat if she made it too easy.
It was a razor’s edge to walk, at once desperate and defeated, but still refusing to fully give in to him.
Dean turned his gaze on her, his attitude still one of extreme disillusioned insouciance. “We do what we must in the face of such behavior,” he said patronizingly. “It’s a hard lesson, but one you must learn.”
“Must I?” Amelia said, quirking a brow at him. Careful, she told herself. Don’t push him too far.
“Well, if you prefer, I can simply be rid of the troublesome brat,” Dean said, his face sharpening.
Fast as a snake, he reached farther into the shadows and drew Logan out, dragging him forward by the front of his shirt.
Logan stumbled a bit, and Dean used the momentum to hold him out near the edge of the ridge.
“I don’t really care either way, though I do believe it would save us both a lot of trouble in the long run. ”
Amelia froze. Logan looked at her with wide, frightened eyes. His mouth had been tied with a bandana, and he made unintelligible sounds around it. His hands windmilled, scrabbling to hold onto Dean or anything else he could grasp.
“Don’t!” Amelia cried, not even bothering to pretend now. “Don’t hurt him,” she pleaded, stepping forward.
Dean cocked his head, regarding her curiously. “You really care for him that much?”
“Please, just—just don’t hurt him,” Amelia said, reaching out helplessly in Logan’s direction.
“I asked you a question,” Dean responded with that same stony coolness. “I expect an answer when I ask you something.” He took another step toward the edge, forcing Logan backward and a step closer to falling. “Let’s try again: How much do you care for this brat?”
“I—he’s like my own son,” Amelia said, her eyes locked onto Logan’s. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him. Please, I’m begging you—just don’t hurt him.”
“Really?” Dean turned his gaze to Logan.
“Did you hear that, boy? It seems she cares about you a great deal indeed.” He pulled Logan closer, holding him with one arm and mockingly stroking his hair with the hand still holding the gun.
The threat was implicit. “All these years, and I’ve finally found a bit of leverage.
I imagine that we’re all going to be getting along wonderfully.
” Dean turned his gaze on Amelia, and his eyes bored hard into hers.
“If we don’t all get along, I just don’t know what will happen. ”
“Dean, please,” Amelia said again, her voice low and soft.
She wanted nothing more than to launch herself at him, to claw his eyes out, to rend flesh and break bones.
She’d never known a rage like this, not since he’d hurt Kate all those years ago.
She couldn’t give him her anger, not yet—what he wanted, what would keep Logan safe, was her humility, no matter how false.
“Oh no, my dear,” Dean said, shaking his head slowly. “The next part is entirely up to you. If you behave well and don’t cause a ruckus, why, I think we can all get along famously. If I get even the smallest whiff of trouble from either of you…” He let the threat hang in the air.
Amelia folded her hands at her waist and looked down. To Dean, she was sure that it looked like she was submitting to his wishes. In reality, she was looking down so that he wouldn’t see the burning hatred in her eyes.
“I understand. What do you want me to do?” she asked meekly.
“I think I could use some breakfast,” Dean said.
She could tell by his tone that he had puffed himself up and was feeling immensely pleased.
“Go and stoke the fire and see what you can do about packing my things. The humiliation of it all, I tell you. A man of my status sleeping in the dirt. I hope you appreciate all the trouble you’ve put me through. ”
Amelia screwed up her mouth in an expression that she hoped passed for holding back tears. “What are you going to do now?” she inquired in a small voice.
“Well, the first thing we’re going to do is get out of this dumpy little town and get back to civilization. You lit out of Kansas too fast—I’m a man of no small means now. I work for some very important people.”
Amelia just nodded, but she doubted that he saw it. He was busy talking about himself now and had no attention for anyone else. He still held onto Logan, but he did so absently, like he wasn’t really aware that he still had the boy.
I have to get Logan away from him, Amelia resolved.
“And then what? Once we’re back in civilization, I mean,” Amelia asked. “I’m sure you have plans.”
“Indeed, I do, m’dear, indeed I do,” Dean agreed.
“Now, I know some very clever men of the law, so the first thing we’re going to do when we step off the train is get this sham marriage of yours annulled.
I mean, honestly, what were you thinking?
Marrying some poor rancher like that.” Dean pulled a face of mild disgust as if the notion left a bad taste in his mouth.
Logan made a noise behind the bandana. Dean’s eyes slid down to him, and Amelia’s heart sank. “What was that, little man?”
Logan glanced at Amelia, who shook her head almost imperceptibly. Logan went quiet, which seemed to pacify Dean. He lifted his chin triumphantly, sneering down his nose at the pair of them.
“That’s more like it,” he said. “Now, go and make yourself useful, woman,” he ordered Amelia. “I’d like to be gone from this place as quick as we can. I don’t think I’m ever going to get the smell of cow out of my clothing as it is.”
She made to slink off into the dark hollow, her shoulders hunched and her head still lowered. His hair-trigger temper had only gotten worse over the years, and she knew it would be detrimental to do anything to set him off now.
“And take this with you,” he added. She turned back around just in time to see him shove Logan hard in her direction. The boy stumbled, and Amelia caught him in her arms, helping to right him.
The moment that they were in the hollow, Amelia embraced Logan, who began tugging and clawing at the bandana over his mouth.
There was just enough light from the fire that had reduced to embers for Amelia to see his face.
She reached up and began to help him, her fingers pulling at the knot on the back of his head.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’m going to help you.”
Logan shook his head, dislodging her hands. He gestured emphatically to her, then outside the hollow. Amelia furrowed her brows, not understanding. She went back to work on the knotted bandana, and within moments, she had it freed.
Logan wasted no time. He grasped Amelia’s hand and stared at her with all the import that he could muster.
“You have to run,” he whispered. “It’s you that he wants.
He talked about it the whole way up here.
He’s going to take you far away from here, and if you give him any trouble, he’s going to shoot you dead! ”
“Shhh,” Amelia said, putting a soothing hand on his face. Her heart broke to see the angry red marks in the corners of his mouth where the bandana had chafed his skin. “It’s all going to be fine. Help is coming. Your pa is making his way to us as we speak.”
There was a small noise from the front of the hollow. Amelia didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; Logan’s expression said it all.
“I hear an awful lot of whispering, and not so much packing. I really hope I don’t have to give you a thrashing this early in our new relationship,” Dean sang out cruelly.
Amelia said nothing but lifted a stick and made to stir up the embers of the fire. A few scattered twigs were lying about, and she added them to the sullen flames, trying to coax them back to life. This seemed to mollify Dean, who moved away from the mouth of the hollow.
“Oh,” he said over his shoulder with great casualness, “just in case you were getting any big ideas, I know good and well that you wouldn’t come up here alone.
I’m not fool enough to think that your sad little rancher would just abandon his son.
He can climb up here if he wants,” he said, and spun the cylinder of his gun.
“I have no qualms about shooting him up here or down there.”
Amelia froze. All of their planning, their careful assumptions about what would happen, were gone. Her throat went dry, and her tongue felt numb. There was no way for her to warn Cody, no way to tell him to stay away. The moment she made a move to do so, Dean would harm Logan.
New fear gripped her, a kind she hadn’t known before. Logan, sensing her worry, grasped her hand. She didn’t know what to tell him, how to reassure him. She just clasped his hand between hers and prayed, her eyes fixed on the ridge beyond the hollow.