Amelia met his gaze and nodded. “Please be careful,” she whispered as she squeezed his hand lightly. “I don’t want anything to happen to you or Melvin.”
Oliver nodded. “We’ll be careful.” He patted her knuckles lightly and left the room so Amelia could prepare for bed.
Oliver got his rifle and met Melvin at the door. The two men looked at one another and then stepped out into the night. They patrolled the property for hours. Nothing more happened and there was no indication of who had fired the shot or why. Oliver was beyond frustrated by the time he came in for the night. Melvin decided to stay out and keep an eye on things.
It was well into the morning and Oliver came home expecting to fall into the nearest chair and sleep. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of Amelia, curled up on the couch wrapped in a blanket and staring at the door. She looked terrified.
“Amelia?” he called as he rushed to her side. “Amelia, are you all right?” he asked. Had something happened?
“I had a nightmare,” she stated shakily. She turned and met his gaze. “I dreamed that the shot came through the window and hit you,” she cried. “You were bleeding everywhere. I couldn’t help you.”
Oliver pulled her into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. “It was just a dream. I’m fine,” he assured her. “I’m just fine.”
Amelia shook her head. “It’s just you and Melvin. What if the rustlers come back? What if they try to do something worse?” she cried. “What’ll we do?”
“Hush now,” Oliver cooed. “Everything will be all right. I promise you. What happened tonight…was only because we were not expecting it. We are now. We’ll take more precautions.” He looked at the broken window. They had to be much better prepared.
He tried his best but Amelia was too frightened. Eventually, Oliver went to the cupboard and the bottle of whiskey he had stashed there. He poured a shot into a cup and brought it to her.
“Drink this,” he urged. He sat beside her with the cup in hand. He held it up to her.
Amelia shook her head.
“Drink it. It’ll help you calm your nerves,” he insisted. He gave her an encouraging smile. “I promise.”
Amelia looked hesitant, but she took the cup and put it to her mouth. She made a face as the alcohol went down, and then handed the cup back to him. Oliver set it aside and then held Amelia once more. He rocked her gently as they sat together on the couch. He sighed as he tried to think of the best way to handle the problem he was facing. Whoever had shot at the house would be back, he was sure of that. He stroked Amelia’s soft waves of hair as he considered what to do next.
It was sometime later that he realized that Amelia’s body was heavy against him. He looked down and found her fast asleep. Oliver smiled.
She’s beautiful no matter what she does.
Oliver placed his hands beneath her body and lifted her into his arms as he got up from the couch. Amelia murmured lightly but didn’t wake. Once he was sure she was still asleep, he walked to her bedroom and opened the door. He placed her on her bed and covered her with a blanket. He brushed the hair from her face.
I will keep you safe. No matter what it takes, Amelia. I will protect you. No one is going to harm you. No one.
Oliver balled his fist at his side. Amelia had taken him by surprise. He never expected to care for a woman the way he did about her, but he did now, and there was no going back. She was a part of his life, and it was a part of it that he wasn’t willing to lose, even if it meant just having her stay there and work for him. He wanted Amelia with him and he wasn’t about to let anyone or anything scare her away. He would protect his home and his people, Melvin and Amelia, no matter what it took.
He turned from the room and shut the door behind him. Oliver inspected the house and made sure that every window and door was secure before he settled himself on the couch. He propped his gun between his legs and stared at the door. He would protect his home and Amelia, even if it meant him staying up all day and night, every day.
Chapter Fourteen
Oliver didn’t bother with breakfast that morning. The last thing he wanted to think about was food at that point. He woke on the couch long after the sun was up. It was unusual for him. Immediately, he went out to start work for the day. It was the only thing he could think of to make himself feel better. There was nothing he could do about what happened the night before. Whoever had done it had not stayed to face them, and even if they had, there was no guarantee that it would have ended well. He needed to clear his mind.
Oliver returned to the tree stump with a pickaxe and began to smash the earth around it with all of his might. He let out his frustration with every groan and growl. He wasn’t going to let someone threaten the peace of Glenore, or the property itself. He would not allow it. Not again.
He looked out on the field where before the dark dots of his herd marked the land. Now, it was bare. He could see the changing colors as the wind blew the tall grass one way and then the other. He’d have his cattle back where they belonged soon enough.
Fire stole from him before and Oliver wasn’t about to let anything steal from him again. He would make a plan to protect his property and his people. He would find a way to find out who had shot through his window and injured Amelia in the process. He would make them pay.
His muscles ached terribly by the time morning was well into the day. He had done nothing else but work on the tree stump until the large mass was finally removed from the earth. The stump was out of the ground, it’s twisted roots covered in dirt. So were his clothes. Oliver breathed heavily, but with satisfaction, as he pushed it over onto its side.
He walked back to the house with the pickaxe heaved over his shoulder and a large grin on his face. He set the pickaxe down outside the door and walked into the house. He was sweating profusely and smelled bad, but he didn’t care. He had won against his mountain. Now, he felt as if he could face anything that came his way.
He strode across the room to the kitchen and walked in to hear Amelia expressing her concerns. Melvin listened quietly. Both turned as Oliver entered.
“You don’t need to worry,” Melvin assured Amelia. “Oliver and I will take care of everything. No one is going to bring any harm to this place.”
“You are going to tell the Sheriff, right?” Amelia questioned him.
Oliver looked at Melvin. “Of course,” he replied. “Like Melvin said. There’s nothing to be worried about,” Oliver assured her.
Amelia nodded, but Oliver wasn’t entirely sure that she believed him.
“Melvin, you mind stepping out to the barn with me? I’ve got something to show you,” he stated as he beckoned the other man over with a small tilt of his head.
“Sure, Ollie,” Melvin replied, as he walked in his direction. Oliver opened the kitchen door and led him into the living room and then out the front door. The pair made their way to the barn. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Oliver turned on Melvin with his questions.
“What were you saying in there?” he asked urgently. “Did you say anything to her, about before?”
“No, Ollie. I wouldn’t do that. She’s frightened enough as it is without bringing up what happened before. Besides, we can’t be sure that has anything to do with this.”
Oliver met Melvin’s gaze. “Melvin, you and I both know that it does.”
The older man looked at him seriously. “Oliver, you need to keep yourself out of trouble.”
“I’m not looking for trouble,” he replied. “But if trouble comes my way I’m not gonna run from it.”
Melvin sighed. “Oliver, be careful. It ain’t just you and me anymore. There’s a young woman living here now. Things could get real complicated real quick.”
Oliver took a deep breath. “I know, Melvin. Don’t you think I know?” He sighed again. “Do you think I want anything to happen with Amelia here? Do you think I want her to get hurt in any way?”
Melvin smiled at him. “No, I don’t suppose you do
. You seem rather fond of her, actually,” he commented.
Oliver met his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denied. It wasn’t fooling his friend.
“Yes, you do,” Melvin insisted. “I may be old, but I ain’t blind,” he continued. “I can see the way you look at her, and the way she looks at you too. You’re sweet on each other.”
Oliver’s mind seemed to be in a fog. Melvin couldn’t mean what he was saying. There was no way that Amelia Donnel felt anything toward him. No, it wasn’t possible. Was it? It was ridiculous, but some part of him wanted it to be real.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted.
Melvin stepped toward him. His expression was calm. “Yes, I do.”
Oliver swallowed his nerves.
Could Melvin be right? Could Amelia have some affection toward him? Were the little things he noticed real and not just his imagination? If they were, what did it mean? Did it matter at all?
She deserves better than you. You’re a fright to look at. You know that. Do you want to have someone looking at you and wanting to throw up at the sight of what you look like? Leave her alone. She’s better off.
She hasn’t before. Why do you think she would now? It doesn’t seem to matter to her when she’s around you. She doesn’t even look at it.
Oliver’s mind argued with itself. Part of him wanted to believe that Amelia was like every other woman who looked at him with disgust, but inside he knew that wasn’t true. She was different. It was why he cared for her.
“What do we do if he comes back?” Oliver asked as he changed the subject.
Melvin sighed. “Then we protect this place. And we hope he doesn’t.”
“You know he will,” Oliver insisted. “You and I both knew that he’d come back.”
“We didn’t know that,” Melvin insisted.
“Yes, we did,” Oliver countered. “He didn’t finish what he started when he set fire to this place all those years ago. Pop knew he’d come back and try to finish the job. It’s clear that the time is now.”
“Then we have to be vigilant,” Melvin stated. “We both know that man is crafty. We couldn’t prove anything last time. We can’t prove anything now.”
“We don’t need to,” Oliver replied. “And we aren’t telling the Sheriff about this, either. If he comes back, then we handle this ourselves.”
Melvin nodded. “All right. I owe your daddy for all he did for me. I’m with you, Ollie, you know I’m with you, no matter what.”
Oliver clapped a hand onto Melvin’s shoulder. “Thank you, Melvin. I know I don’t say it often enough, but I appreciate you standing by me all these years. You’ve always been there. When Pop was alive. After he was gone. You were right here to keep me on the right path. Thank you.”
Melvin stepped forward and embraced him. “You’re like my son,” he stated. “Of course I’ll be there. I’ll always be there.” He stepped back. “Now, what are we gonna do about that window and this problem?”
“We need to get some glass from town to replace the pane. I think it’s best you do that. Don’t take Amelia with you. I don’t want her running into the Sheriff and informing him of any of this. The fewer people who know the better.”
“All right,” Melvin agreed. “What about protecting this place? There’s far too much land for the two of us to protect alone. I think we need to hire some hands from town to patrol, at least at night. That way Amelia will feel safer and we can be sure that we don’t wind up with another fire.”
Oliver nodded. “Agreed. You can see to that when you get into town, but make up a story for why we want them. I don’t want anyone thinking that we have trouble up here.”
Melvin nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
“We better get back in there before Amelia becomes suspicious and comes out here,” Oliver suggested.
“We wouldn’t want that,” Melvin agreed.
They walked back to the house together. They made a plan for that afternoon and what needed to be done. Oliver was going to make sure the house was protected. Work would finish early for them and a watch to protect the house would start before the sun went down.
They walked back into the house to find lunch on the table. Steaks and potatoes, vegetables, and buttermilk biscuits. The smell of apple pie baking in the oven filled their senses.
“Smells delicious,” Oliver commented. “I’ll go wash up and be right back.”
He walked to the bathroom and rolled up his sleeves. He washed up to his elbows. He was very hungry and the smell of the food only made that feeling worse. He couldn’t wait to sit down to a meal. He had forgone breakfast and that choice was adding to what he felt now.
Oliver rolled his sleeves back into the place and headed to the kitchen. Melvin was already seated and Amelia too. He joined them immediately and fell into conversation.
That night, Melvin took the first shift. He began walking the property line around the main house before sunset. He would go until midnight and then Oliver would take over. The new ranch hands would join them the next day, but for now, it was just going to be the two of them protecting the house.
It was after ten and Oliver found himself seated in front of the fireplace. He watched the orange flames lick the stone walls of the hearth, but they couldn’t escape. He could remember the flames that night as they devoured his home. Oliver had done his best to rebuild it as it was, the way his father designed it, but it wasn’t quite right. In the end, he had added more of himself than his father to it.
“Oliver?” Amelia’s voice called gently. She was in her nightgown with a blanket wrapped about her.
“Amelia, what are you doing out here? You should be in bed,” he commented as he got to his feet. He walked toward her. “What’re you doing up at this hour? I thought you were asleep long ago.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly. “I guess I’m still nervous after everything’s that’s happened.”
Oliver nodded. “I understand. I’d feel the same if I were you,” he admitted. “You aren’t accustomed to things like this, but living on a ranch and trying to build something like this place, you have times when you get afraid.”
Amelia’s gaze rose to his in surprise. “You get afraid?”
He nodded. “Of course. I just can’t let it stop me,” he stated. “If I did, I’d never get anything done.” He smiled lightly. “Come here.”
Oliver led Amelia by the hand to the fireplace. He gave her his seat and pulled another one beside her for himself.
“When I first decided to make this place what my father wanted, I was scared to death,” he admitted as he stared into the flames. “I didn’t know if I could do it. I didn’t know if I was man enough to fill my father’s shoes. It was Melvin who encouraged me. He saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself, but what he did was never let me give up. He made me face my fears and overcome them.”
He turned to Amelia. Her skin glowed in the firelight and her eyes were fixed on him so intently that he felt as if he could get lost in her eyes.
“You didn’t need anyone to help you overcome your fears. You decided what you wanted and you went after it. You left Thinvale and came all the way out here because you wanted more out of life.”
“I don’t think I could have done that if I were in your shoes,” he stated. “I would’ve been too scared.”
“I was scared,” Amelia whispered as she looked into his eyes. She smiled demurely, as her gaze lingered on his for several seconds before she turned her attention back to the fireplace. “I was so scared. I’d never dreamed of doing anything like that before, and despite what you think, I did have motivation.”
Oliver continued to watch her.
“The night I left I thought my heart might burst out of my chest I was so afraid my father would catch me. Luckily he didn’t. On the way here I wondered if I was doing the right thing, if I was making a mistake, but I was hopeful. That’s what I held onto.” She loo
ked at him. “I wasn’t going to the unknown. I was going to meet…you,” she whispered. “I had your letters, and all the things written there, and it was those words that encouraged me every day. I know it was Melvin, but still, it was what I needed to change my life.”
Oliver reached for her hand. He took her slender fingers in his rough palms. He was sorry that he hadn’t written to her himself. Melvin may have spoken about him and shared the things they talked about, but it wasn’t the same. He wished he had gotten to know Amelia before her arrival. Perhaps now, they might be even closer. He wouldn’t let that deter him. He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. “Now you have something else to hold on to…someone else. The real me.”
For the Love of a Wounded Cowboy: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 13