by Rye Hart
A cloud of sadness washed over Amelia at that moment; she knew what she was doing was wrong and that James deserved to know the truth.
James bent his head to follow through with his statement and kiss her. His movement forced Amelia to finally make her decision.
"I'm engaged," she blurted out a second before James's lips brushed against her own.
James stopped a hairsbreadth away from her. "Pardon?" he asked, utterly confused.
"I'm engaged to Thomas Florian. He asked me to marry him last week and I accepted," she explained in a rush.
James suddenly let go of Amelia and stepped away, but his eyes remained fixed on her own, a mask of confusion darkening the usual joyful glimmer. "How can you be engaged? You only met him last week?" he exclaimed.
"I know it all seems so sudden, and trust me it took me by surprise —" she began.
"Surprise? You don't even know this man Amelia, how can you promise your life to someone you've only just met?" he questioned.
"Well, Marianna and Georgina both had unconventional engagements to men they hadn't known for long," Amelia argued. "And they both have joyous marriages. So I don't think the length of a courtship can determine what the marriage would be like."
James gave her a hard look, not unlike the one Marianna had given her earlier. "There was no courtship Amelia, what kind of hold does he have on you?" he asked suspiciously.
"He has no hold on me," she protested. "Thomas is a kind, thoughtful, generous man. He has offered to help get my artwork seen by the people in the industry, and he has promised to take me away from Valley Springs," she added.
"Ahh, I see," James said sardonically. "I see how you benefit from this, but how does he?"
"I have no idea what you are implying, but Thomas loves me and wants to help me succeed in the world," she declared.
"But do you love him?" James asked softly.
Amelia paused. Do I love him? So caught up in the glamour of his interest, she had not once stopped to question if she even liked the man as her life partner. But he's the great Thomas Florian, I've adored his work for years. She adored his work, but not him per say.
"I —" she stuttered. "I think I could grow to love him," she said weakly.
James looked at her for what Amelia felt like was an eternity.
"I wish you the best of luck Amelia," he said finally, his voice filled with an aching sadness. In one swift motion, he turned away from her, picked up his bike, and rode off down the road.
Amelia's heart lurched. She longed to run after James, to tell him to stop, and to ask him not to leave, but her pride would not allow her to do that. Instead, she stood there and watched him ride away while her chest ached and she repeatedly swallowed back the sob that welled up in her throat. She refused to allow herself to cry.
"What have you done Amelia?" she questioned herself. She couldn't help but shake the feeling that letting him go was a huge mistake.
Chapter Eleven
Amelia knew that she needed to talk to Thomas. She needed to come clean and tell him about the kiss she shared with James. And, if he still loved her after that, she would need to tell him that she wasn't ready to be engaged just yet.
She knew that James was right, that she was rushing in. Her gut had been warning her about something the entire time, and now it was clear what that was — she needed to know that she could love Thomas the way he deserved before she committed to marrying him.
She pedaled as fast as she could toward the hotel where Thomas was staying until the end of the week. She didn't want to wait another second to sort things out with him, especially since he was leaving soon. She didn’t know how she had allowed her life to become such a mess, but she was determined to clean it up before the end of the day.
As she rode up to the hotel, she jumped off her bike and ran right up the stairs to the lobby. She didn't care that she looked a wild mess, she had more important things on her mind at the moment.
"Excuse me," she asked the front desk attendant. "Which room is Thomas Florian staying in?" she asked while catching her breath.
"I'm sorry ma'am," the attendant looked at her apologetically. "Mr. Florian just checked out today, perhaps less than a half hour ago."
Amelia stilled. "That's impossible, he was supposed to be staying here until the end of the week." Perhaps the attendant was mistaken.
"Yes," the attendant confirmed, "but it seems that Mr. Florian changed his mind."
Amelia was not to be discouraged. "Did he leave a forwarding address?" she asked earnestly? "Or maybe a letter for me? For Amelia?" she asked desperately.
"No, I'm very sorry. He did not give any specifics about where he was going, and he did not leave anything for anyone," the attendant said.
Amelia tried to contain the mixed emotions that rose up in her, but she couldn't help it. She knew that Thomas wouldn't just disappear on her without a word, yet she couldn't shake the sickening feeling that confirmed her worst fears. "I see," she said.
The attendant cast her a sympathetic look. "Perhaps ma'am, if you head around back to the carriages, he may not have left yet," the man offered.
Amelia's eyes lit up. "Thank you," she said eagerly. In a moment, she was heading toward the side door that led into the carriage yard.
As she stepped outside, she looked frantically around for Thomas's familiar face. It took her a second to spot him across the yard, just as he was stepping into a waiting carriage.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she started running toward him. "Thomas," she called out. She didn't want to miss him, as this may be the last moment for a while that she would be able to speak to him in person.
She saw Thomas turn around to look at her, his eyes widened with recognition, and his body stilled for a moment.
"Thomas wait," she called again.
It was in that moment Thomas's whole demeanor changed. Gone was the kind, generous, and caring attitude. Instead, the man that looked back at her over the rim of his spectacles was most definitely not the man that had wooed her.
Thomas shot her a hardened look, which caused Amelia to stop dead in her tracks.
"Thomas?" she asked just loud enough for the man several feet away from her to hear. His response shocked her.
"Drive on," he said with a commanding voice. In an instant he had disappeared inside of the small carriage.
The carriage lurched forward and began to roll, while Amelia stood in the middle of the yard, mouth agape.
She didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was openly blaring in her face. Thomas Florian had played her for a fool. The man she had idolized for years, the man that she had thought would help her art get the exposure it needed, the man that had told her he loved her. But why? she wondered. Then it all clicked.
He had taken advantage of her own naivety and now he was leaving her behind in the dust, taking her most prized possessions with him — her artwork.
As she watched him leave, Amelia felt powerless in her ability to stop him. And even if she could catch up to his fleeing carriage, how would she be able to convince him to give her back her work?
Fortunately, Amelia did not have to wait around long before an answer in the form of an auburn haired Texan rode in. Or, more accurately, was chasing down the carriage at breakneck speed on his bicycle.
She wanted to call out to James, tell him to stop before he got hurt, let him know that her art isn't worth it, but he was already too far away to hear her. Instead, she watched in horror as James brought his bike right up next to the speeding carriage, and with the agility of a man that had herded cattle, swerved in front the carriage and brought the horses to a screeching halt. She tried to see what was going on, but the dust that swirled around the scene obstructed her view.
At the same moment, she heard the rumbling of horses as the Valley Spring's law enforcement came riding in and surrounded the carriage.
She didn't care anymore, she just started running; she needed to know that James was safe.
"Back to the hotel?" she exclaimed. "How can I just go back and wait while James is probably bleeding, crushed beneath the wheels of the carriage!"
"Bleeding?" the man looked confused. "We are here to apprehend a wanted criminal."
"A criminal? But James was trying to stop the carriage, he is no —"
The man on the horse shook his head. "No, the famous artist or what have you. He's wanted on fraud charges across the country," he started to explain before his face went white. "Wait," he said hesitantly, "I wasn't supposed to talk about that," he said in a worried rush.
"I'm sure she will be able to keep things quiet," James laughed as he sauntered in between them. His face was covered with dirt, and his hair was in a state of unruly disarray, but his face displayed a satisfied grin.
"James!" Amelia exclaimed. She never thought she would be that excited to see him.
"Amelia," he nodded in her direction.
Amelia moved toward him, and as soon as she was within reaching distance, she punched him lightly in the arm. "How could you do that to me! I almost watched you be trampled to death by horses!" she burst.
James didn't even flinch, instead he shot her one of his infamous cocky smiles. "I knew what I was doing," he said teasingly.
"But I didn't know that! I thought I lost you." As she spoke, her voice grew shaky and tears welled up in her eyes. "I truely thought I lost you," she said, softer this time.
James's features softened. He quickly closed the small space between them and enveloped Amelia in a warm hug.
"I don't know what I would have done without you," she confessed.
"I'm sure you would have gotten on just fine," he reassured her gently. "Just like you've done for all these years without me," he spoke.
Amelia felt him pull back, and his hand comes around to tilt her chin up to look at him. In between a few hiccups, she replied, "What if I don't want to get along without you?"
James's gaze grew heated in response. "All I have to say to that," he shot her a cocky grin, "is that it is a good thing we have the rest of summer to get to know each other."
Amelia laughed in response. "You mean if we somehow survive summer without killing each other, we might have a shot?" she giggled.
"That's one way of describing it," he winked at her.
Although Amelia rolled her eyes in response to his statement, she didn't once stop smiling at him. She couldn't believe that he had come back for her and that he had rescued her precious artwork and helped stop the man that had tried to take advantage of her.
"Wait," she said hesitantly. "How did you know Thomas was a fraud?" she raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"Well," James suddenly looked a bit sheepish. He ran his hand through his hair nervously before continuing. "When I left you near the duckling nest, I had decided to confront Thomas and, if necessary, fight him for your honor."
Amelia gasped. "No you didn't," she breathed. She couldn't believe it. A part of her was horrified by what he told her, another part though, was excited by the idea.
"Well, when I found out that he had checked out, I knew that something was off," he continued. "So I went to the authorities, told them what I knew, and after a bit of digging, we realized that Thomas Florian was a wanted man."
"But why would he come here if he was wanted?" she asked "And how would he be able to stay here, in plain site, and no one ever figured it out?"
"Turns out it is a lot harder to keep track of all the wanted individuals across the country, and on top of that, the few people that knew, aren't the type to keep up with art shows," James explained.
"I feel so naïve," Amelia said. "How could I have gotten so caught up in his world, that I didn't realize what kind of person he was beneath the façade?"
"It wasn't just you Amelia, he has done this before," he said gently. "But now he won't be doing it again."
Amelia nodded. "Thank you James and I am truly sorry for how I treated you, you didn't deserve it," she added.
"Don't even think about it," he said with that familiar mischievous glimmer in his eye.
Amelia couldn't help but smile. "What am I going to do with you?" she breathed.
“I might have an idea,” he said and bent down to kiss her.
Amelia sighed as his mouth came against hers.
“Are you amenable to such a suggestion?” he whispered against her lips.
“Yes, a thousand times over. Yes,” she responded.
"Then your wish is my command," he said right before he pulled her closer into an all-consuming kiss.
The End
Rebecca
Chapter One
I wasn’t sure what the West had in store for me, but it had to be better than what I was facing in Charlotte. I sighed and looked out the window as a few of the visiting women went on and on about a man that one of them was marrying. It was moments like this when I wanted out the most.
Charlotte was one of the bigger cities in the South and it was known for its opulence and fashion. Southern Hospitality was alive and well here, though that mostly rested on the shoulders of the women who resided here. We lived in large plantation houses and made sure the children and men were cared for. That was the fate of any woman who lived in Charlotte.
My eyes fluttered closed as I felt a headache pulsing at my temples. It always gave me a headache to sit around and listen to these hens cluck. They were so content with their lives. They were happy to be the wives of men they’d never met before their wedding day. They were content to live in large mansions, fanning themselves and chatting about useless things like the latest fashions from New York. Their lives were far from what I wanted for myself.
I’d grown up around women like this my entire life. My mother had been quiet and mousy with little to no ambition. She loved me, but I was all she had in her life. My father was a strict man and spent very little time at home, though I had some fond memories of playing with him in the fields. He was one of the only people who never went easy on me. He treated me like he would a son. It gave me a strange sense of freedom when he allowed me to do the things the boys did.
As I grew older, this stopped. He no longer allowed me to play like I was a boy since it would make me less desirable as a wife. I traded in fishing and hunting for tea making and baking. I hated all of these mundane tasks and as I learned needle point, I would sit on the porch and long to run through the grass and play in the creek.
There was at least some comfort, knowing my parents weren’t planning to marry me off to some random man who was willing to pay a high enough dowry. I was their only child and so they treasured me. I was going to be allowed to pick my suitor.
This comfort was quickly stripped away when both my mother and father became ill with consumption. I did my best to care for them but even the doctors weren’t able to make them well. They passed on through the gates of Heaven, leaving me in the hands of my money-hungry uncle. As a woman, I could not inherit my parent’s estate, so it all went to my father’s brother. He was happy to have the extra money, but he wasn’t happy that he was stuck with me. He resolved the situation by finding me a husband; a man named Robert Richfield. He was apparently a very wealthy, very old man who had an eye for blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauties like myself.
I wasn’t going to go through with it. I refused to allow myself to be married off and sold like a mule. I was going to fight this, even if I did not have many options available. I knew I had one; I could run away to the West. Many of the men out there were desperate for wives and while I’d be agreeing to enter into a marriage with a practical stranger, at least it would be on my own accord. Besides, I needed the adventure like I needed air.
“Rebecca?” one of the women asked, waving a gloved hand in front of my face.
My eyes widened and I jumped a little, staring at the women before me.
They all looked a bit concerned and confused.
“What?” I asked softly, confused by their concerned looks.
“We’ve been trying to get your attention for a while now. Are you okay?” the youngest woman asked.
I put a hand to my neck and smiled weakly. “Oh. Yes, I’m fine,” I whispered softly, looking down at the plate of untouched finger sandwiches. “Just daydreaming, I suppose.”
One of the older women chuckled and sipped her tea, glancing over at me. “She’s at that age where all she does is daydream about babies and her wedding.”
I forced a smile and nodded, glancing back out the window to the field of wild flowers. “I suppose so,” I agreed. “Just eager to be married and start my new life,” I said, trying to sound convincing.
“Oh! I remember being like that,” another woman commented. “I miss being so young and eager,” she sighed. “That excitement tends to go away after the first few years,” she mused.
I winced at that comment and closed my eyes, putting a hand to my forehead. God, I did not want to feel trapped like these women. I wasn’t going to allow myself to be miserable like them. I just wasn’t going to allow it.
My plan may have been foolhardy and maybe it wasn’t perfectly thought out, but it was going to get me out of here. I stood up with the rest of the women and we gathered our things to head home. I opened my parasol and walked just behind the group, glancing at the train station longingly. With a little luck and a little more time, I would be on that train and escaping this trap of a life. I wasn’t sure where I was going to go or who would be waiting for me on the other side. Everything could be terrible and I might find myself in the clutches of an outlaw. There was a lot of risk associated with the path I’d chosen, but I knew one thing for certain; no matter how bad it was in the West, it could not have been worse than the fate I faced by staying here.
Chapter Two
As the women kept walking I glanced over my shoulder at the post office. There was a small board that hung right outside the door, where people nailed wedding announcements, birth announcements, and a wealth of other news. It also happened to be the place where the postman put ads for mail order brides.