Jane Goodger

by A Christmas Waltz

  The one room was all there was to the home. A bed covered with a patchwork quilt filled nearly a quarter of the space. The only other furniture was a small table and a single chair. Julia motioned toward the chair, and Amelia felt a stab of sadness for this woman who’d likely never had a need for a second chair until this very moment. Julia sat down on the bed, the gift in her hands, and slowly pulled on the ribbon until the small vase was revealed. With a single finger, she traced the curves of the vase as if she were holding a priceless item.

  “Thank you.”

  “You were the only person in Small Fork who didn’t come to stare at me,” Amelia said. “Boone has gone to Abilene to send a telegram for me, and I’ve been minding the store. I do believe every resident of Small Fork has suddenly run out of flour and cornmeal.”

  “We don’t get many strangers here,” Julia said, still holding the vase in her hands.

  “Next time you come by, I’ll get some flowers for you from Dr. Kitteridge’s garden.”

  “Oh, no, you can’t do that.”

  “Why ever not? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

  “Then you don’t know Dr. Kitteridge.”

  Amelia smiled. “Don’t tell me he’s as particular about his garden as he is about his store.”

  “Even more.”

  Suddenly, a memory flooded her, of Carson snapping off a rose from someone’s Mayfair garden without a second thought and presenting it to her with a flourish.

  “We’ll simply have to get him to change his mind. There’s no sense having a vase if you cannot put flowers in it.”

  Julia stood and placed the vase in the center of her little table where it looked rather forlorn, in Amelia’s opinion. “I don’t think you should,” she said, staring at the vase as if she were trying to picture flowers in it.

  “I suppose he does like things just so,” Amelia said.

  “He doesn’t like my house. It’s too cluttered, he says. I think it makes him nervous.”

  “He’s very different from his brother. Have you known them long?”

  Even though most of her face was covered, Amelia could tell the other woman smiled. “Oh, yes. I’ve known Carson since we were children. Boone was always more serious. But Carson was…”

  “Special,” Amelia supplied. And then, without even knowing that she was feeling sad, she burst into tears. Embarrassed, she recovered quickly, laughing at her foolishness, but the damage had been done. Julia stared at her in dismay, clearly uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry,” Amelia said, still laughing. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.” And then she spilled her entire story to Julia, ending with her opening up her trunk and finding her money gone. “And that’s why I’m still here. If it wasn’t for that, I’d be on a train home by now.”

  “You traveled all the way from England for Carson?”

  Why was everyone so shocked, Amelia thought with a bit of irritation. She supposed if she had met Carson for the first time here, she wouldn’t have looked at him twice. Or if she had, she likely would have wrinkled her nose at the wild-haired giant whose clothes were stained, and whose breath smelled like sour whiskey. “In hindsight, traveling here was a mistake.”

  “And then he lit out?”

  “Yes. Which is why I’m returning home. I do believe he never intended to marry me. I was simply a diversion for him during his stay in England. He can be charming,” Amelia said, looking down at her lap.

  “It was a terrible thing to do to you.”

  Amelia darted a look at the older woman, realizing there were much, much more terrible things a man could do to a woman. “Yes, it was. But I’ll get over it. I’m going home as soon as my brother sends me funds, and then this will all become just a grand adventure, something to tell my grandchildren one day.”

  “And I can tell everyone about the time an English lady came to my house,” Julia said.

  “And watered your floor with her silly tears,” Amelia added, laughing.

  Soon after, Amelia said good-bye and promised to visit again before she left.

  “Maybe you can tell me about England. I don’t know anything other than Small Fork. I’ve never been anywhere.”

  Amelia agreed and walked from the small house feeling lighthearted for the first time since her arrival.

  Chapter 7

  Boone knew it was a mistake to leave his store in the hands of someone who didn’t realize just how important it was to keep everything in its place. He hadn’t worried about Julia, for George had promised to keep an eye on her. But when he walked into his store, he broke out into a cold sweat.

  Everything was wrong.

  “You’re back,” Miss Amelia said from behind the counter, a smile on her face. He hardly noticed her smile, the genuinely happy welcome. All he could see was that everything was in disarray.

  He wasn’t certain when it had become so important to him to keep everything in the store precisely where he wanted it. He hadn’t been like that when he was a child helping Mr. Johnson. Back then, the store had been a rambling hodgepodge of items shelved by size, not by what they contained. A customer might find linseed oil next to a jug of honey or a bag of salt. But Roy could find everything…eventually.

  Boone darted a look at her and tried to stop himself from shooing her out of the store immediately. “I hope my brother gets the telegram within days. I’m certain he can arrange someway to get the money to me quickly. Did you have a good trip? I so do appreciate your doing this for me.”

  All the while she’d been talking, he’d been trying to set things aright. It looked as if a bull had rampaged the place, leaving everything helter-skelter.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, sounding exasperated. “I spent hours last night arranging everything just so, and now you’re doing it all again. Well, perhaps not hours. But it’s perfectly fine.”

  A sheen of sweat shone on his hands as he carefully put everything on the shelves precisely the way that was necessary. He did it because he had to. Because if he didn’t…he didn’t really know what would happen if he didn’t. He simply had to.

  “I must say, you certainly are particular,” she said.

  “It’s all wrong,” he muttered, carefully aligning the cans so that they were exactly the same distance from the edge of each shelf—the length of the first joint of his index finger. He didn’t even dare look at the ribbons and fabrics at the back of the store, which were no doubt in complete disarray.

  He felt her come up beside him and wished she’d go away. He knew he was strange to care this much. He’d been made fun of for years because of his meticulous nature.

  “Boone?”

  He stopped, slightly irritated with her interference.

  “I already straightened them.” She sounded slightly annoyed, but he didn’t care. He only wanted to fix everything she’d managed to put in disarray while he was gone. He should have known better than to leave his store in the hands of someone else.

  “They are not properly organized.”

  Amelia felt completely unappreciated. She’d worked hard to make the store neat and clean for his return. She’d taken a feather duster and swept it over every single item in the store. Amelia had never dusted a thing in her life. She felt rather proud of herself for doing it without uttering a single complaint. She certainly hadn’t heard the words “thank you” come out of his mouth yet. “Perhaps they were not properly organized when you left,” she said, and nearly laughed at his unveiled look of disbelief. He’d been holding his index finger at the edge of each shelf and moving the items precisely, so that they all lined up perfectly. He even tested the items that clearly had not been moved.

  How maddening.

  “Every single person in this town came through the store while you were gone when they realized I was behind the counter.” He kept his focus entirely on the items, gazing with a single-minded intensity that was rather fascinating to watch. He had a nice profile, and his lashes were strikingly long for a man. Carson had
those same lashes, but his were blond and less noticeable. “You didn’t have any patients. I did see Julia, however.”

  “Hmmm.”

  At that moment, he reminded her of her brother when he was looking at a rare book. He was so completely focused on his task, her dress could catch fire and he no doubt wouldn’t notice. Amelia had always been one to tease, and saw no reason why she shouldn’t now. So she nudged the nearest jar of preserved peaches one-quarter inch back, a little poke, while she stared daggers at his profile. His only response was to place his finger upon the shelf and move the preserves so the jar was aligned with its neighbor.

  Poke.

  “I do not find you amusing, Miss Amelia,” he said, straightening out her next victim. “I am not trying to be amusing,” she lied, grinning at him. Not that he’d notice, since he was still focused on the jars. Poke. “I am trying to be annoying.”

  His nostrils flared, and it was obvious he was trying valiantly not to get annoyed. She’d thought he would simply ignore her, but when she went to poke her third bottle of preserved peaches, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist before she could make contact. He didn’t squeeze her wrist, but she could feel the strength of him just the same, as if she were being lightly held by iron.

  He stared at her, his gray eyes hard as steel, and without a hint of amusement, he said, “Please stop.”

  They were inches apart, so close she could feel his angry breath against her forehead, so close she could see the gold specks in his beautiful gray eyes. She noticed again just how thick his eyelashes were. His eyes swept her face, touched on her mouth, and he dropped her hand.

  Amelia smiled up at him, extended one finger, and held it against the next jar.

  “Don’t you dare,” he said, but this time she thought she detected a glint of something other than annoyance in his eyes. Laughter perhaps?

  “And what if I do?”

  Again, his gaze slipped down her face to her mouth and back, as if drawn there against his will. He gave her a look of pure exasperation, as if he were baffled by her childlike behavior. Amelia let out a soft laugh.

  “You won’t do anything, will you?”

  “I’ll dunk you in the fountain,” he said, as if proud that he’d come up with such a brilliant idea.

  “You wouldn’t. Not for simply moving a jar”—she could feel the cool smooth glass beneath the tip of her finger—“like this.” She nudged it, let out a squeal, leaped back, and found herself slightly disappointed when he simply sighed and fixed the jar.

  “You’re no fun,” she said. “A stodgy old man like my brother.” It was no fun antagonizing someone if they did not react. Amelia let out a sigh, crossing her arms and meandering away from where Boone worked.

  “I could help,” she said.

  “No. Thank you.” He was studying the shelf, making certain all the items were aligned. As if it mattered. Amelia had been bored to tears ever since her arrival. Other than her visit to Julia, she’d spent most of her time alone. There were no shops in Small Fork, no theaters or museums, or even a book to read. The only books Boone had in his home were medical journals, and she wasn’t yet bored enough to start reading them.

  She’d gone to visit Paula earlier, but the woman had taken her baby and young son to visit her family in Fort Worth. She watched Boone work, amazed that someone could care so much about something so insignificant. His movements were measured, careful, his gaze intent on his work. Boone was probably even more handsome than Carson, or he would be if he ever smiled. He seemed to be rather a cold fish. Certainly, he was not a great conversationalist. No wonder he wasn’t married.

  “Do you have a sweetheart?” she asked to fill the silence, more than out of any real curiosity. “No.”

  “Have you ever?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want one?” she asked, her voice tinged with laughter because it was clear to her she was annoying him.

  “Not particularly.”

  Amelia tilted her head. Was she, perhaps, in the presence of a confirmed bachelor? He was far too young and far too handsome for that fate.

  “I suppose you don’t have much chance to meet women here,” she said. “I adore balls and parties and dinners. Not that I got much chance to attend any of those before my engagement.” She let out an extremely unladylike snort, and smiled when she saw him grin at the noise.

  “I’d just had my come-out, you see. London is spectacular. Well, when it’s not raining or clogged with smoke and fog. Did you know that people die in the fog? It gets so thick, it kills people. Kills them! I was only fifteen and in Meremont, but I read about it in the Times. I wrote to my brother that I never wanted to go to London. Ever. I was so frightened. And then, only a few years later, I was begging him to take me.” She paused. “Am I bothering you?”

  He seemed to consider her question carefully before answering. “No.”

  “Shall I tell you about London?”

  “If you wish.”

  “Well, I’ve only been twice and not for very long. It’s very noisy and dirty. Not where we live, though. But…”

  He looked up, questioning.

  “I do believe I’m a country girl at heart. I adore balls and such, but I think I can admit to you that by the time we left London and returned to Meremont, I was so sick of it all. You have no idea what it entails being an earl’s sister. It’s exhausting. All those visits and smiling at people who bore you to tears, who talk and talk and say nothing at all.” Amelia burst out laughing and Boone smiled at her.

  “I’m not doing that to you, am I? Talking and talking and boring you?”

  “No. I’m just not used to having anyone to talk to.”

  “Oh.” She noticed his cheeks turning slightly ruddy, as if he were embarrassed to admit such. “I’m afraid I will talk your ears off if you let me. I’m used to having people to talk with, you see. I’ve a whole house full of children to entertain.” Her voice faded a bit. She missed her stepcousins fiercely.

  “Small Fork doesn’t have many children.”

  “I’ve only seen one. Carson told me the streets were filled with children playing. He lied about that, too.”

  “Carson likes making people happy,” Boone said. “He just can’t stand it if someone is angry with him.”

  “And so he’ll say anything.”

  Boone stopped his work, and turned fully to Amelia. “I’m sorry for what my brother did to you.”

  Amelia gave him a halfhearted smile. “I am too. Hopefully, my brother will send me funds, I’ll go home, and this will simply be a wonderful adventure.” She felt a tickle along her temple and grimaced when her hand came away dripping. “I must say I’ll not miss the heat.”

  “It’s not hot today.”

  It was scorching, the air in the store stagnant and oppressive. She was constantly moist, constantly feeling trickles of sweat where she’d never felt them before, moving down her back and between her breasts. Her dresses were nearly soaked by the end of the day, when finally the air cooled and she could find some relief.

  “In Meremont it’s always cool. Deliciously cool. We live by the sea and the air in the summer just drips with the scent of it. I used to sit on a cliff overlooking the water and stare out and wonder what America would be like. It always seemed to me to be the best of all places.”

  “It’s not?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Perhaps it’s only that I’ve seen it from a dusty train. And it’s not at all what I expected. It’s so…big.”

  “That’s Texas.”

  “It goes on forever. More and more land, leading to nowhere. I don’t mean to sound so disagreeable.”

  As he moved from one place in the store to another, she followed, chatting away, not really caring if it was, for the most part, a one-sided conversation. “I guess it takes getting used to.

  “Why don’t you want a sweetheart?” She’d always bothered her brother about finding a wife, especially when she’d suspected he had a secret
love. Her suspicions were realized when she discovered her brother had almost fallen in love on a visit to Newport, Rhode Island, only to leave the poor girl behind in America. It wasn’t until Maggie showed up in England that she realized her brother had, indeed, fallen in love.

  “Guess it’s too much trouble,” he said.

  “You don’t plan ever to get married?”

  “Don’t see why I should.”

  “For one thing, you can’t have children,” Amelia said. “Don’t you want a family? Don’t you want to fall in love?”

  “I never really gave it a thought.”

  She looked at him as if he were a foreign creature. What person wouldn’t dream about love and family and children running about? Her brother might have claimed to not want to get married, but he’d always known he would. Boone truly didn’t seem to care one way or the other. If fact, it was almost as if marriage was something he’d never thought about. “You can’t be serious. Surely there’s someone you’ve met or seen or imagined that you could marry.”

  He stared at her and slowly shook his head. “Nope.”

  “No one?”

  “I don’t think I could take all the chatter.”

  She opened her mouth as if angry, then gave into laughter, wondering if Boone was trying to be funny or if she just found him so. He smiled, so she realized he was just teasing her.

  “Truth is, not too many unattached women travel through these parts, and I just don’t have the inclination to go off someplace looking for a wife.”

  “That’s a much better answer. I thought that perhaps you truly were made of stone.” She hugged her arms around herself. “Ever since I was little, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. A home, a husband, a place that was mine. I suppose it may be because my parents both died when I was quite young, leaving me alone. I’ve never really felt like I had a home. Just a big old drafty house filled with furniture and servants.” Amelia let out a sigh just thinking about those long, lonely days she’d spent while Edward was off in the Light Guards and she’d been left to wander around their house by herself. “I don’t ever want to be alone again. Don’t you get lonely here? It seems like the loneliest place on earth to me.”