Logan's Lady

by Tracie Peterson

  “What do you say, Mr. Reed? Is the snow upon us?” Lord Amhurst suddenly questioned.

  “It’s due, that’s for sure,” Logan replied. “But I think you’re safe from any real accumulation. We might see a dusting here and there, but it doesn’t look bad just yet. Of course, with mountain weather that could all change by morning.

  The musicians were ready and awaited some kind of cue that they should begin playing. The fiddle player was already drawing his bow across the strings in what Logan knew to be an American-styled call to order. He looked around the room and, still seeing no sign of Amelia, he questioned the earl about beginning the music.

  “I see Lady Amhurst is still absent, but if you would like, the boys are ready to begin playing.”

  The earl glanced around as though Amelia’s absence was news. “I say, Penelope, where is that sister of yours? She doesn’t seem to be here.”

  Penelope shrugged. “She left the cabin after telling us to wear whatever we wanted. She was mean-tempered and said she wouldn’t be needing these gowns anymore. We presumed she said that because of her marriage to Sir Jeffery. Don’t you think it was mean of her to boast that way?”

  Lord Amhurst laughed, “At least she’s finally coming around to our way of thinking, what?” He elbowed Jeffery and laughed.

  “Indeed it would appear that way,” the sneering man replied.

  Logan hated his smugness and thought of his lurid suggestion that Amelia would come to enjoy his bed. Logan seethed at the thought of Amelia joining this man in marriage. He had worked all week long to figure out what he could do to resolve Amelia’s situation. He couldn’t understand her loyalty to a father who would be so unconcerned with her feelings, and yet he respected her honoring him with obedience. Somehow there has to be a way to make things right for Amelia. He though of approaching the earl and asking for Amelia’s hand, but he as already certain that the man would never consider him a proper suitor, much less a proper husband.

  “I congratulate you, Chamberlain, on your powers of persuasion. You must have given her a good talking to in order to convince her to marry.”

  “Maybe it was more than a talking to,” Lady Gambett said in uncharacteristic fashion.

  The girls all giggled and blushed at this. They whispered among themselves at just what such possibilities might entail, while Jeffery smiled smugly and accepted their suppositions. Logan barely held his temper and would have gladly belted the grin off Chamberlain’s face had his attention not been taken in yet another startling direction.

  “But did Amelia say when she might join us?” the earl asked, suddenly seeming to want to push the party forward.

  “No,” Penelope replied, “she said she was going off to cry on some rock. I suppose she’ll be at it all night and come back with puffy red eyes.”

  “Then she’ll be too embarrassed to come to the party,” Margaret replied.

  Logan felt his breath quicken and his mind repeated the words Penelope had just uttered. “She said she was going off to cry on some rock.” Did she mean Crying Rock? He put his cup down and signaled the band to begin. He wanted no interference on exiting quickly and figured with the music as a diversion he could make his way out the back kitchen door.

  He was right. Logan slipped from the room without anyone voicing so much as a “Good evening.” His thoughts haunted him as he made his way to the end of the porch. He grabbed a lighted lantern as he jumped down from the steps. She doesn’t want this marriage and she knows about Crying Rock.He mentally kicked himself for ever taking her there.

  “Lord, if I’ve caused her to seek a way out that costs Amelia her life, I’ll never forgive myself,” he muttered.

  Chapter 15

  As if drawn there by sheer will, Amelia finally made her way to Crying Rock. She stood for a moment under the full moon and looked down at the valley below. Across the mountains the moon’s reflection made it appear as though it were day. The dark, shadowy covering of pine and aspen looked like an ink smudge against the valley. The mournful sound of the wind playing in the canyons seemed to join Amelia’s sobs in sympathetic chorus.

  Her gown of lavender crepe de Chine did little to ward off the bit of the mountain breeze. The polonaise styling with its full skirt and looped-up draping in back gave a bit of protection, but the wind seemed to pass right through the low-cut bodice and was hardly deterred by the chiffon modesty scarf that she’d tucked into it. The finery of a Paris gown meant little to her now. What good were such baubles when no one cared if you lived or died?

  She stepped closer to the edge and wiped her tear-stained face. Father will be very unhappy when he learns what I’ve done. All of his plans will be for naught, and yet he’ll still have his money and the land will pass to Penelope. Perhaps her sister would go willingly into marriage with Sir Jeffery. Thinking of Jeffery made her stomach hurt. He was mean and crude and just standing over the dizzying drop made her remember his cruelty to her as a child.

  “This thing must be done,” she said to the sky and then sank to her knees in misery. If only there were some reason to go on with life. She simply couldn’t see herself at Jeffery’s side playing the innocent wife while keeping her lovers waiting in hidden rooms. Furthermore, to imagine that Jeffery would entertain himself in such a manner bothered her pride more than she could admit. If Jeffery had at least loved her, it might have been possible to go into the marriage. But he wanted nothing more than her father’s money and the manipulative power to control all that she would inherit. Ameliafelt sick just imagining the arrangement.

  “If God did exist—” she said softly and lifted her gaze again to the panoramic view of the mountains. She thought of Logan and all that he’d share with her about God and the Bible. She thought of his faith to believe in such matters. He was totally unwavering, even when she made what she knew was a strong argument against his beliefs, Logan wouldn’t argue with her about God. And it wasn’t because Amelia hadn’t sought to stir up a conflict now and then. Logan would merely state what he believed to be the facts and leave Amelia to sort through it herself. She remembered one conversation that had taken place several days earlier in which she had asked Logan how he could be so certain that he was right in his beliefs.

  “How can you be so certain that I’m not?” he had questioned. “I’m willing to bet my life on my beliefs. Are you?”

  Amelia felt a chill run through her at the memory. Was she willing to bet her life on her beliefs? Her mother’s faith had been the foundation for their household. Her father had even admitted that it was one of the things that had attracted him to her in the first place.

  “Mother, why did you leave us?” Amelia whispered. “Why did you have to leave me with so many questions? If God loves us as you always said He did, then why did He cruelly take you from the children who needed you? Where is God’s mercy in that? Where is the love?”

  The rustlings of the wind in the trees below were all that came backin reply.

  “All right,” she said, giving in to the tremendous longing in her soul. “If You exist, God, then why do you allow such tragedy and injustice? Why, if You are such a loving Father, do You allow Your children to experience such pain?” She paused in questioning and rubbed her arms against the mountain chill. “Why do You allow me to hurt so much?”

  “I want to believe,” she said and this time the tears came. “I want to believe.” She sobbed and buried her face in her hands. “But it hurts so much and I’m so afraid that You won’t be any more constant than Mother was. If I believed, would You merely go away when I needed You most, just asshe did?”

  A verse of Scripture from childhood from the last chapter of Matthew, came to memory. “And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.”

  “But the world is filled with a variety of beliefs and religious nonsense,” Amelia protested against the pulling of her spirit. “How can I know that this is real? How can I know that I am choosing the right path?”

  Logan had said it
was a matter of faith and in believing that the Bible was truly the word of God. Logan had also said that God proved himself over and over, even in the little day-to-day points of life.

  “God, if You are real,” Amelia said, lifting her face to the starry, moonlit sky overhead, “then You must show me in such a way that I cannot miss it in my blind foolishness.”

  But even if God was real He wouldn’t change my plight. What tiny thread of hope had begun to weave itself through her broken heart, snapped with this sudden realization. She was still facing her father’s edict that she marry a man she didn’t care about. She would still find herself headed back to England within the month. And she would still lose the man she loved.

  Logan came to mind with such a powerful urgency that Amelia no longer fought against it. She loved him as truly as she had ever loved anyone, and in many ways, intimate and frightening ways, she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone else. Logan was like no one else in the world. He cared to share his faith with her in such a way that it wasn’t merely preaching for the sake of fulfilling his obligation to God—rather it was that his heart was so full to overflowing with love for his God and Savior that he couldn’t help but share it.

  Then, too, Logan was perhaps the only man who had ever treated her with respect that didn’t come from a sense of noble obligation. Logan spoke his mind and refused to play into her role of “Ladyship,” but he also afforded her a kindness and gentleness of spirit that only her mother had ever given her. But of course, that didn’t mean he loved her and love was truly all that Amelia longed for in life.

  “There is no reason to live without it,” she whispered. “Oh, God, if You are real then give me a reason to live. Send me love. Real and true love. Please, let someone love me.” She sobbed.

  “I love you,” Logan said from somewhere behind her. “Even more, God loves you, Amelia.”

  

  The sound of his voice startled her so badly that Amelia hurried to her feet, tangling her skirt around her legs as she tried to straighten up. Caught off guard by Logan and by the gown’s hold on her, Amelia lost her balance and fell to the ground. The impact caused a piece of the rocky ledge to give way and Amelia felt herself slipping from the safety of Crying Rock.

  Digging her hands into the rock and dirt, she thought, Not now. I can’t die now! But even as the thought crossed her mind, she was more than aware of her dangerous situation. With what she thought would surely be her last breath, she screamed Logan’s name.

  “Amelia!” he cried out from overhead. “I thought I’d lost you!”

  She pressed her body against the cold, hard granite and for the first time in her life began praying earnestly. She barely heard Logan calling her name and refused to even lift her fact to search for him overhead.

  “Amelia, you have to listen to me,” Logan said again. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes.” She barely breathed the word.

  As he moved overhead, bits of rock and dirt pelted down on hear head causing Amelia to shreik in fear. “Don’t be scared, Amelia. I’ll soon have you right as rain.”

  She would have laughed had the predicament not been so grave. Don’t be scared? She was long past scared. She was terrified to the point that she thought she might pass out cold and end any hope of her rescue.

  “Listen to me, Amelia. I can reach your hand if you lift your arm up.”

  “No, I’m not moving,” Amelia replied, hardly daring to breath.

  “You have to do as I say or you may well be on that ledge for whatever time you have left on earth.”

  She said nothing for several heartbeats and then spoke in a barely audible voice. “I can’t do it, Logan.”

  Logan seemed not to hear her. “Look up and to your right. I’m reaching down as far as I can and I can almost touch your head. All you have to do is give me your hand. I promise I won’t let you go.”

  “I can’t do it,” she repeated sternly.

  “Yes, you can,” he told her, sounding so confident that she felt a surge of hope. “Trust me, Amelia. Have faith in me and what God can do.”

  Amelia felt the pounding of her heart and the fierce chill of the wind as it whipped up under her skirt from the canyon below. She wanted to believe that Logan could do what he claimed. She wanted to trust that God would honor her prayer of desperation.

  Slowly, methodically, she released her grip on the rock. Her hands ached from their hold, but slowly she stretched her fingers until they were straight. She lifted her arm ever so slowly. She refused to look up, terrified that she would find the distance too far to make contact with Logan’s hand. But then his hand clamped down on her wrist jarring her rigid body to her toes. Amelia had to force herself not to cry out.

  “I’ve got you. NO just don’t fight me and we’ll be okay,” Logan called down to her. “I’m going to pull you back up on the count of three. One. Two—”

  Amelia’s heart was in her throat. If I die now there will never be any hope of reconciling myself to God.

  “Three!” Logan exclaimed and Amelia found herself being hoisted back up the rock wall. She heard her crepe de Chine skirt tear against the jagged edge and the loose dirt rolling off the ledge as Logan dragged her across it. In the time that it took to realize what had happed Amelia lay atop the ground with Logan panting heavily at her side.

  He jumped up quickly and pulled her away from the edge to more stable ground. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her in a trembling embrace that told her how afraid he’d been. He sighed against her ear and Amelia thought it all more wondrous than she could take in. She relished the warmth of his body against hers and the powerful hold of his arms. He loves me, she thought. If only she could stay in his arms forever.

  Then, without warning, she started to giggle and then to laugh and Logan pulled away to look at her quite seriously. The thoughts flooding through her mind, however, would not let her speak a word of explanation. It was almost as though the missing joy in her life had suddenly bubbled over inside.

  “Amelia, are you all right?”

  She nodded and continued to laugh so hard that tears came to her eyes.

  “It’s shock,” he said authoritatively. “Come sit down.”

  Shaking, Amelia allowed him to lead her to a small boulder and sat willingly when he pushed her to do so. She was still laughing, however, at the very idea that she had asked God to give her a sign so clear that she could not miss the truth! What remained comical in her mind was that God could hardly have made it any clearer, and even Amelia, in her childish refusal to believe in His presence, was ready to admit her folly.

  Logan sat down beside her and pulled her gently into his arms. She looked over and found his expression so fearful that it sent her into new peals of laughter.

  “I’m sorry,” she alternated between gasps and giggles. “It’s just so, so—” Her voice fell away in uncontrollable mirth.

  “Amelia, honey, you’ve got to calm down,” Logan said softly. Her hair had come loose during her escapade up the mountain, and Logan methodically stroked it as if to calm her.

  “It’s just,” she said, finally gaining control of her voice, “that I asked God to prove Himself to me. I asked Him for a sign that even I couldn’t ignore and then He does just that, getting my full attention by gangling me over the ledge! Oh, Logan, don’t you see how funny it is?”

  Logan nodded and smiled. “I remember you asking Him for love, too.”

  This did the trick in sobering her completely. “Yes, I did.” She looked deep into his eyes, unable to make out their brilliant green shading in the moonlight. “I’m glad you came.”

  “Me, too.”

  With their faces only inches apart, the kiss that followed seemed more than natural. Amelia felt Logan bury his warm fingers in her hair in order to slant her head just enough to give him free access to her mouth. She was stunned by the kiss at first, and then a flaming warmth seemed to radiate out from where their lips touched. It flowed down through her bod
y until Amelia wanted to shout aloud with joy.

  “Amelia,” Logan sighed her name as he pulled away from the kiss. “I love you, Amelia. Please tell me that you could love a barbarian.”

  She smiled. “I do love you, Logan Reed.”

  

  With this, he kissed her again, only this time less urgently and when he pulled away, Amelia could see that his eyes glistened. “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered.

  “I couldn’t see a reason to go on, but neither did I have the courage to put an end to my life,” Amelia admitted.

  “It doesn’t take courage to kill yourself,” Logan interjected. “That’s the coward’s way out.”

  “I was in such turmoil. I kept remembering the things my mother had taught me about God and the things you kept pushing in my face.” At that she smiled and took hold of his hand. “Logan, you were right to keep after me. I’ve always known God existed, but I didn’t want to admit it because if He existed in the power and glory people told me about, it also meant that He had the power to keep the bad things in my life from happening. But He didn’t. He let Jeffery torture me as a child. He let my Mother die before I was ready to say good-bye to her and He left me to be forced into a marriage with a man I can’t abide.” She paused and searched Logan’s face for condemnation. When she found only love reflected in his gaze, she continued.

  “To believe in His existence meant I had to accept that He knew what was happening and that He stood by and let it happen. That seemed cruel and heartless to me. The God my mother had always told me of was merciful and loving. I couldn’t accept that He would do such a thing or even allow someone else to do those things. Does that make any sense?”

  “I think so,” Logan replied. “But how about now? Those things haven’t changed. And there are still horrible tragedies in life. Tragedies that won’t just go away overnight.”

  “That’s true,” Amelia said thoughtfully, “but I suppose I must simply accept that fact. I don’t imagine life will always make sense, but what does make sense to me is that if there is a way to deal with the bad times in peace and confidence, then that’s what I want. I’ve watched you all summer and your peace and assurance have driven me nearly insane.”