Amelia, An Autumn Bride (Brides for All Seasons Book 7)

by Hildie McQueen

  The preacher retrieved a large handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Since you have not been able to attend church, you are not aware of what we are currently praying for. You’ve been added to the prayer list.”

  “I thank you,” Gerard replied, waiting patiently for what else Pastor Miller would say.

  “Perhaps, you could come to service next week. We are dedicating it to unmarried men in town.”

  Somehow, he managed not to scowl. “I’m sure it will be greatly appreciated.

  The preacher nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes. We will have a special prayer time, a call to the altar and even offer baptisms. Afterward, there will be a wonderful potluck.”

  Many of the men would probably attend at the prospect of being fed. Additionally, it would be the opportunity to see if there were any new settlers who had daughters of marrying age.

  “If this walk doesn’t leave me in bad shape, I will do my best to come.”

  The preacher smiled. “I can take you back to town. Let me get my horse hitched.”

  “No need.” Although he considered the offer, he wasn't sure it was possible to climb onto a bench at the moment.

  The preacher seemed to understand Gerard’s predicament. “You can climb in the back. You’re becoming quite pale.”

  Without waiting for his reply, the preacher continued. “Come to the house and rest for a bit. I will take you home after supper.”

  Like the couple who lived within, the preacher’s house was warm and inviting, just like one would expect. It smelled of cinnamon and acceptance, of gratitude and warmth. Inviting a visitor to take a deep breath and fill up on the goodness the world had to offer.

  Gerard had to wonder how it was possible that just by stepping into a space, one could feel so welcome without a word being uttered. The preacher’s wife, Martha, greeted him with a soft smile and motioned for him to sit at the table. She was short and soft, like one would want a mother to look like. Streaks of gray hair only added additional gentleness to her appearance. It was pulled back from her face, allowing her bright blue eyes to stand out.

  “I haven’t seen you since we visited, Gerard Cullen. So nice to see you here at the church.” She had always called him by both names. And although she didn’t ask the reason for his long absence from Sunday services, he struggled to come up with one.

  “It’s nice to see you, Mrs. Miller,” he replied, unable to keep from leaning forward as his side ached so badly now.

  The woman neared and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It hasn’t been too long since your accident. You shouldn’t have walked so far. Besides, there have been sightings of a bear in the woods on the road here from town.”

  So that could have been what he’d heard earlier. The rustling sounds from the trees. He was fortunate to not be attacked. Injured as he was, there would have been little Gerard could have done to protect himself.

  “I know it now. Felt a bit better and decided to go for a walk.”

  “How about I prepare some tea with just a drop of laudanum to help with the pain?” Not waiting for a reply, she turned away to go to the stove. “In the years since Brenda died, I’ve always kept an eye on you.” The woman’s words surprised him.

  Moments later, when she sat across from him, Gerard waited to hear what she’d say.

  Her kind eyes met his. “Why do you insist on grieving over her and not moving on with your life?”

  “It’s what I feel compelled to do,” Gerard answered her honestly. “What a husband should do.”

  Her lips curved. “Being compelled and doing what one should do are not always true reasons for whatever we do.” There was a soft tap as she drummed her fingers on the tabletop in thought. “The reason I have kept an eye on you is because good men like you are rare. That you never uttered an unkind word about a wife that was hard to live with says a lot about you Gerard Cullen. That you continue to visit her grave weekly is confirmation. However...”

  There was a sound at the door and Gerard knew it was the preacher. Mrs. Miller looked to the doorway and must have sent a silent message because the footsteps that sounded became softer as the man walked away.

  “Mrs. Miller, I understand what you’re saying. I am not striving to put up a front and make it look like I’m better than others. I am just who I am.” For an odd reason, his heart pounded and there was an odd tightening across his entire body.

  “I know,” she replied. “However, I feel a strong inclination to speak to you and say this.” The woman let out a soft breath. “There is a purpose for you. God has better things in store if you just allow it. What He has in store is much better than remaining chained to the past in some sort of self-imposed penance. I don’t know why God decided to take your wife. But I do know that He does not intend for you to feel guilt for moving on with your life.”

  It was as if she heard his prayer and Gerard wasn’t sure he liked it. Had God heard his prayer and sent an answer?

  “Now,” she continued. “Take what I’m saying as you will. I just want you to know that I clean the church on Fridays and, just like clockwork, I look out the window and see you standing there, your head bent. And every single time, I get the same stirring in my heart for you that I have to tell you to move on.”

  Gerard nodded, his thoughts going to Amelia. He’d considered not pursuing a relationship, to allow her the freedom of her own self-imposed decision to remain single.

  He met the woman’s eyes. “Sometimes, it’s hard to know what one should do. I have been conflicted as of late.”

  Mrs. Miller smiled. “I hear you help out Mrs. Shaw and that you are always doing what you can for the Parkers. There is little people don’t talk about to us.” Mrs. Miller sipped from her tea, reminding him to do the same.

  She put the cup down and sighed. “You know what Gerard Cullen? I think you already know where the Lord wants you to go. I have a feeling all you need is a little encouragement. Now, I’m not saying you not visit your deceased wife’s grave. But I will tell you this. Sometimes, the best we can do to honor those who’ve gone is to live the best life we can.”

  With a soft tap on the tabletop, she stood. “I best check on this chicken stew. Tell me about your week? How were things at the shop when you stopped by?”

  While she cooked, Gerard told her about the horse he sold and about the goings on at the stables. They chuckled when he exaggerated how unmanageable the horse was. It felt good to talk to someone like Martha.

  When it was time to eat, the three of them continued to talk about the upcoming events in town and about plans to visit those in need.

  By the time he and the preacher rode back to town, Gerard was bone tired, but felt better both physically and mentally.

  The trotting of the horses and the bumpy ride didn’t matter as much since they’d ensured Gerard’s comfort by surrounding him with thick blankets.

  And just like Mrs. Miller’s words, the blankets and soft rocking of the wagon gave him the most peace he’d felt in a long time.

  Chapter 11

  Conversations on the first floor jarred Amelia awake. For the second day in a row, she’d overslept. And just like the day before, instead of jumping from the bed, she lingered, listening to the sounds of a new day.

  Birds chirped outside the window and the aroma of coffee and bacon tickled her nose. Amelia stretched with leisure, enjoying the softness of her bed and the way her body reacted to her movements.

  It occurred to her that the haste of trying to ignore her memories, she’d not stopped to enjoy everyday moments like these. Her lips curved when noting that her bedroom door was cracked. No doubt, her aunt had checked on her sometime earlier.

  When she entered the kitchen just minutes later, both Harriett and her aunt looked to her with questioning gazes.

  “How are you feeling this morning, dear?” Harriett asked as her aunt watched for her reaction.

  Amelia smiled to reassure her. “Better than I have in a long time. I am not sure what’s come over me
but, for the first time since coming here, I can honestly say I am...” She stopped. What was it truly? Happy? Or perhaps, she was just able to relax and not worry about sad thoughts overtaking her.

  “Yes?” her aunt prodded. “You are?”

  “Happy,” Amelia said with assurance. “Most mornings, I wake up scared of my memories of what I’ve lost. However, as of late, I don’t mind the memories as much. I am able to move past it.”

  Harriett clapped. “That is certainly good news. I’ve enjoyed having the kitchen to myself and some work to do when arriving.”

  Her aunt looked from Harriett to her in question. “I’m happy to hear it, dear. Now, let’s go to the dining room. Your uncle, no doubt, is impatient for his breakfast.”

  As if on cue, Uncle Bernard and his two dogs entered from the garden and he looked expectantly to Harriett and then to Amelia. “The boys are not happy about your cat. He goads them at every opportunity.” Looking back outside over his shoulder with a frown, he shook his head. “Cats are not friendly animals in the least.”

  “I’m sure he means them no harm,” Amelia replied, looking to the dogs. They wagged their tails furiously. “They seem in good spirits.”

  “What about when winter arrives?” her uncle asked. “What will you do about the cat?”

  She’d already considered moving the animal indoors to keep him warm. Although the cat was used to the outdoors, Amelia did not want to leave him out there to suffer the cold. “I’ve thought, perhaps, I could keep him in the back porch.

  “That won’t do,” her uncle responded. “The boys like to sun there in the winter.”

  “Bernard,” her aunt intercepted. “You and the dogs are gone to the bank for most of the day. Be fair.”

  Harriett huffed. “Breakfast will be ready momentarily. Please go sit.”

  Amelia wondered what to do with her day. Now that Gerard was recovered enough to go to his shop at the stables, she had no reason to visit. She’d hoped he’d mention something about seeing her but the last couple visits, they’d kept the conversation neutral. He’d not revisited the subject of courtship and she wondered if, perhaps, it had been a product of his illness and medication.

  Admittedly, she’d thought more and more about a relationship with Gerard and the thought of it had moved from an adamant no to a possibility. Now, as the days passed and he showed no signs of moving forward, a huge part of her was disappointed.

  Despite everything, the string of events with Gerard had brought something into her life. For the first time in years, she looked forward to what the next day would bring. Still, she hoped to see him and missed his company.

  “I’m going to the schoolhouse to visit Lilah. She always needs help and I find I’m idle much too often,” Amelia informed the others at the table. “Plus, I haven’t seen her in days.”

  The schoolmarm kept to herself for the most part. Being she was unaccompanied with no family, the woman was left to spend most days alone. Amelia felt for her and often visited to pass the time.

  “Very well,” her aunt replied. “I will be spending the day enjoying the few warms days we have left by knitting on the front porch.”

  Uncle Bernard placed his napkin beside his plate and stood. “Wonderful breakfast as usual, Harriett. I must leave now. There is much to be done.” He kissed his wife’s temple and, followed by the dogs, left the house.

  Amelia followed her uncle’s progress as he passed by the large front window. “May I invite Lilah for supper?”

  As soon as she stepped outside, Amelia was looked toward the side of town where Gerard lived. She had no reason to go in that direction. Other than visiting Sarah, which she’d done the day before, nothing else was in that direction.

  Then again, Mrs. Wilkes would be serving up breakfast to guests and she could stop by to find out if there were any plans for another trip to visit those in need.

  Amelia hurried toward the restaurant, noting it would only take a few moments and then she could be on her way to the schoolhouse in the opposite direction. There was no use in denying that she’d be near the stables. However, it was far enough away that if she managed to catch a glimpse of Gerard, he would probably not think it odd that she walked by.

  The sun warmed her back as she walked past an empty building that would soon house another business. From what Judge Withers had told everyone, a new business would be opening, as a family from out east was arriving in Ranchester soon. In anticipation of their move, the patriarch had sent a man to oversee the building of the home, which included a large open space on the first level.

  At the corner, she looked toward the stables and blacksmith shop. A couple men milled about, one leaning on a fence and another led a horse out from the stables. Neither of them was Gerard.

  He wasn’t in front of his house and the street was also empty. She only saw a small cat crossing the road toward Sarah’s house.

  Disappointed, she shrugged and let out a sigh. Perhaps, on the way back, she would see him. Amelia crossed the street and walked to the right, down the side street.

  Mrs. Wilkes’ restaurant was on the right side of the road. A light stream of smoke blew from the chimney. There were always horses hitched or in the corral next to the building as single men would gather there for meals.

  Mrs. Wilkes had a good business going for two reasons. Her food was delicious and the other establishment was in the hotel. The hotel owners, the Blooms, were not only disagreeable, but also insisted everyone wash up and dress appropriately before entering to eat.

  Most of the men in town were ranch hands, manual workers who felt more at home at a rudimentary establishment.

  Amelia slowed her pace at seeing two men walking to the corral. Although she’d not experienced any kind of disrespect, she didn’t immediately recognize the two men.

  Just a year earlier, the bank where her uncle and cousin worked had been held up. It made her wary of strangers and newcomers to Ranchester.

  The men mounted and headed in the opposite direction of where she was. It was then two other people caught her attention.

  It was a man and a woman. When the woman’s hair caught the sunlight, Amelia recognized her. It was the striking woman who’d arrived by coach a week earlier. She’d been accompanying the owner of the brothel.

  The man she spoke with was Gerard. Head bent, he seemed to be listening intently to what the woman said.

  Unsure of what to do, Amelia hesitated, watching from the safe distance.

  The woman lifted her right hand, motioning with it as she continued talking. Finally, Gerard seemed to be replying. He began to make motions with both hands as if explaining something.

  The last thing she wanted was to be associated with the woman. Although Amelia had no reason to dislike the woman, it was best to avoid her type.

  Just then, Gerard turned and looked straight at her. Following his line of sight, the woman turned as well.

  Amelia turned on her heel and went back to the corner and to the right to head toward the schoolhouse. She couldn’t think of what else to do. Why would Gerard have such a long conversation with the woman? By their gestures, it didn’t seem to be a personal conversation, but more as if she woman had questions about something.

  Despite understanding the meeting must have been coincidental and the conversation benign, jealousy sank like a rock in her stomach. That not being enough, it wrapped like a belt around her chest.

  When she turned the corner and was sure they couldn’t see her, Amelia stopped. It was silly, of course, to be upset. But she’d missed him and hoped to see him. Gerard had not sought her out and now to see him speaking with another woman bothered her more than it should.

  The empty house that stood in front of her was well built and quite nice. In a way, it was a reflection of her. On the outside, it was sturdy, while on the inside it was fragile as glass.

  “Amelia?” Gerard neared. His measured steps were the only indication he still ached when moving too much. “Are you unwell?�
�

  “No. Of course not. Just admiring this new building. I wonder what kind of business it will be.”

  He studied the front of the empty home giving her an opportunity to study him. His cropped hair suited him. A rebellious lock fell over his forehead, adding a somewhat roguish appeal.

  “Perhaps a doctor or a barber.”

  “We have both.” Amelia took a step away. “I should go. I will be late to see Lilah.” Amelia was not sure why she felt compelled to lie, since the schoolteacher had no idea she was coming.

  Gerard neared and placed a hand on her forearm. “I’m glad to see you. I’ve missed your company.”

  Her tongue protested when she bit down to keep from saying something stupid. Instead, she forced a smile. “You seem to be recovering well.”

  His eyes fell to her lips and then away. “May I accompany you? I can’t walk very fast, but I need the fresh air.”

  “Of course.”

  They began walking, a ring of tension between them. Finally, just as they passed her house, Amelia looked to him. “Why haven’t you called on me?”

  He cleared his throat. “I had to get things settled in my head. The worst thing a man can do is lead a woman to believe something other than what he intends.”

  That was it, of course. He’d been influenced by his injuries, the situation and, perhaps, his medication when he’d confessed to want more than friendship.

  The realization shouldn’t affect her much. Unfortunately, every part of her body ached. Amelia’s sharp intake of breath caused Gerard to take her by the shoulder and guide her to the garden. Her garden. In a sunny spot, the orange cat sunned and she considered they’d be within sight of her aunt and Harriett.

  Unable to protest past the blinking to keep tears at bay, she allowed Gerard to lead her to a small bench.

  When he joined her, their legs touching, she stole a glance toward the window. If her aunt witnessed this, it would be a matter of seconds before she’d be out there. The situation could only get worse.