Dinner was finished, but he wasn’t ready to say good night. They walked arm-in-arm down the boardwalk and into the saloon.
Corrin met them near the door, and Amelia asked her if she’d approve Paul and her sitting on the bench outside to continue their talk, and she agreed to it.
They sat together on the bench, half facing each other, not too close, and talked through the rest of the evening, the din of the partying never letting up as it increased and decreased as if a living creature.
At one point later in the evening Paul dared to inch closer to her and lay his hand across the back of the bench. Then quietly, gently, he touched Amelia’s velvety hair. He knew he shouldn’t have stolen this pleasure, but he couldn’t resist.
Soon, Amelia yawned.
“Come on. I’ll escort you to your room.”
She nodded, stood, and took hold of his arm.
Paul accompanied her safely to her door, and remembering her reaction earlier in the day in the meadow, asked for her permission to kiss her.
She didn’t answer him, but just stood with her face pointed forward and she blushed.
He touched her cheek tenderly. Then slowly, purposefully, he drew nearer and bent his head downward and kissed her on the cheek. When she didn’t flinch or pull back, he again cupped her face with his hands and kissed her long and tenderly.
He was still holding her face as she whispered good night to him, and then reached backward, opened the door, and backed away from him into her dark room. “Should I light a lamp for you?”
She laughed. “That won’t be necessary.
Stupid! He’d nearly forgotten she was blind.
“Paul?”
“Yes?” He took a step toward her and gazed admiringly into her porcelain face.
“Thank you for the flowers.” She smiled at him.
He leaned against the door jam with one hand and touched her chin with the other.
“You’re very welcome.”
She stepped back and closed the door behind her.
“You’re very welcome,” he whispered,” sweet angel.”
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning, Sunday, Paul tapped on the back door as previously arranged, and Amelia opened it with enthusiasm, flashing him her prettiest smile---the one that reminded him of her innocence.
She wore a pretty, pink satin dress that bore soft, ivory lace ruffling around the edge of the scooped neckline. Two pink ribbons of a darker shade were attached from the shoulders to the waistline forming a V. A sash of the same color adorned her small waistline and ended in the back in a half-train flowing over a modest bustle. She had pulled back her hair on each side with a shiny silver comb.
“You look as beautiful as an angel today.”
“Thank you, Paul. Please come in. I’ll be ready in just a minute.” Amelia turned and tapped her way to the water pump with her cane.
Paul watched with admiration the careful way in which she walked, the genteel manner in which she carried herself, and the way she looked in that dress. He knew his love for her was not a fleeting fancy and that her outward beauty was only the messenger that carried the real Amelia to him. Everything about her gave him the purest pleasure.
She took up a towel and attempted to wipe up some water she’d evidently spilled, but wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Paul went to her side, stole the towel from her and proceeded to mop up the mess. “What happened here?”
“Oh,” Amelia huffed. “Maybe someday someone will invent a pump that won’t allow the water to gush out when someone wants a simple glass of water!”
“Oh, I see.” Paul grinned at her difficulty in coming by ‘a simple glass of water’. He’d never heard her raise her voice before.
“Yes, you do see. And it isn’t fair,” she blurted out. “Sometimes, I wish that I had never . . .”
“Hey, it’s only water.”
“But, it’s just one more thing in my life that I can’t do. It’s impossible for me to even pump water without spilling it all over the place.”
Paul put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. Amelia reciprocated by tucking her arms around his middle, and they hugged as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. After a moment she broke away from him.
“I apologize for that outburst. I guess I was feeling sorry for myself again. But I’m all right now. I don’t even know where that came from. Forgive me?” Actually, she did know where the fit came from but had no intentions of disclosing her secret to anyone. Even her mother had been unaware of what she knew.
“Of course, forgiven and forgotten.” Paul smiled at her and gently rubbed her cheek. He understood that her limitations must frustrate her sometimes. “You know something?”
“What?”
“I hate those confounded pumps too. I can’t tell you how often I’ve gone to work with wet shirt sleeves.”
Amelia smiled at him.
“Shall we go?” Paul took her arm and guided her out the back door. “Would you care to take Sunday dinner with me today?”
“Well, Aunt Corrin said she would have a picnic lunch waiting when I get home, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you came along.”
“Maybe she wouldn’t mind, at that. I’ll just ask her when we get back.”
› › ›
Upon their arrival at the church, Paul and Amelia were greeted by almost the whole congregation, one by one. Paul was certainly a well known fellow in the community, and well thought of too. Amelia felt proud to be escorted by him. She was also pleased that she was already acquainted with several people present.
Once inside, Paul directed her to a pew. Paul told her the number of people in attendance each Sunday outnumbered the seating capacity, so they had to sit very close to each other. She wrapped her arm under his to make herself more comfortable, leastwise, that’s what she told herself. And soon the Sunday Service was under way.
Amelia was so happy to be back in church once again, yet at the same time the only church she’d ever attended was the large, brick church back home. Mother would be glad to know she’s able to go to church, even though she lived in a saloon. She ached for the familiarity of her old life.
They sang three familiar hymns, Amelia noticing Paul’s enthusiastic singing voice and wondered if he sang that way every Sunday or if he was just trying to show off for her. Any doubts as to his motives for worship were dispelled, though, when the Preacher called upon him to give the opening prayer. Amelia’s church back home didn’t involve the congregation in the service. The thought intrigued her.
Paul stood. “Dearest Heavenly Father, We thank you for your generous blessings upon all our lives. We ask you to touch the heart of Reverend Bennett. May he truly hear your voice as he speaks the message you’ve given him to bring to us today. May our own hearts be drawn to your Word, and may we carry back to our homes the assurance of your love and forgiveness and saving grace throughout the rest of the day and into the week. We ask these things in the name of your son, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
This kind of prayer could only come from someone who had a personal relationship with the Lord. Amelia’s muddled emotions were set free from their confusion. It was as if God had not only heard her befuddled prayers the night before, but He was able to make some sense out of them. She now saw a clear direction for her life. And all she had to do was take it. She knew all along that if she ever was to fall in love, it would have to be with a Christian man. One with the same beliefs as hers. She found herself being drawn toward Paul in a deeper way, and it both excited and unnerved her.
The service over, the usual fellowship resumed. It was difficult to maneuver through the church because of the large number of people who were visiting in the aisles. Paul kept hold of Amelia, guiding and turning her as the need called until the two were once again back outside in the fresh, Sunday air.
Wouldn’t the people back in Georgia think this quite a travesty, leaving church to go home to a saloon? She was just glad to have a p
lace to go home to. Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like the saloon! Amelia giggled at her silly, private thoughts.
“What’s so funny?” Paul asked.
“Oh, I was just reminded of something. Nothing special.”
Soon they were at the kitchen door with the savory aroma of fried chicken drifting out to them.
“Mm.” Paul’s said.
Corrin looked up from her cooking. “Hello there. How was church this morning?”
“It was wonderful,” Amelia replied. “I enjoyed it very much. Aunt Corrin, did you know that Paul has a marvelous singing voice?”
“Actually, I did. But that’s a story for another time.”
When had her aunt heard Paul sing? Had she gone to church at some time in her life? “Oh, Aunt Corrin. I invited him to picnic with us. I hope that’s all right with you?”
“Honey, that’s just fine. We have plenty of food.”
“See,” she said, turning toward Paul. “I told you she wouldn’t mind.”
“We’d better not go too far, though. It looks like it might rain,” Corrin said.
The threesome headed into the woods behind the saloon and Corrin soon spied the perfect spot for a picnic under the shade of a giant pine tree. A blanket was spread on the ground, the fair laid out like a buffet, and they soon were enjoying themselves with food, conversation and laughter.
“Oh, Sweetie, I almost forgot to tell you. Some of my friends are throwing me a Birthday party this Saturday night---a dance! Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes, it is. It’s been a long time since I attended a dance. I already knew about it, and I’m looking forward to it. I just wasn’t sure if it was to be a surprise or not.”
“Well then, fair lady.” Paul grabbed Amelia’s hand and kissed it. “Wouldst thou give me the pleasure of escorting you to the grand ball?”
“Thank you for your offer, most kind sir.” Amelia chafed at having emphasized her Southern accent again. “However, another gentleman has already extended the same offer and I have accepted, so I’m afraid that I must decline.” There, she said it.
Paul sat quietly for a moment, and then blew out a huge sigh and said, “Cowan.”
“Yes.” In an attempt to console him, Amelia reached for his hand and smiled brightly at him. “But I’ll save you a couple dances, Paul.” There wasn’t anything either of them could do about the situation, so it would be advantageous to simply make the best of it.
He sat quietly for a moment. “I’d like that very much, Miss Jackson.”
“Well, in honor of the upcoming festivities,” Corrin said, her voice sounding happier than Amelia had heard her since she arrived a week ago. “Amelia, you and I are going shopping. We are going to Glenwood Springs to buy ourselves the prettiest party gowns this side of the Rockies.”
“Where’s Glenwood Springs?”
“Oh, it’s about a half day’s ride on the stage. You’ll love it. It’s much larger than Glory Gulch, and has a dress shop with the latest fashions from Paris, and they’ll tailor them to fit. And we’ll buy all the trimmings too. We leave on Tuesday’s stage, about twelve-thirty and will arrive in Glenwood Springs around five. We’ll come back on Friday around eleven thirty in the morning. I’ve made this trip so many times before, but it’ll be so much more fun having you with me, Sweetie.”
“My goodness, Aunt Corrin! Don’t you think you should take a breath every now and then?” Amelia said with a smile, but inwardly was regretting the trip. She had just completed a long journey and wasn’t looking forward to another one so soon. But her Aunt was excited and Amelia wouldn’t think of disappointing her.
“I know I was rambling, honey.” Corrin giggled and affectionately stroked her niece’s hair. “But I’m just so glad to have someone to share my life with. I didn’t feel that way when you first came, I’m sorry to say it. But I do now. You’ve become my extra ray of sunshine because you brighten my day so much. I’ve got my very own grown-up daughter that I can pamper and do things with. I’m just so glad you’re here, and I’ve grown so fond of you in such a short time.”
“Thank you, Aunt Corrin. I love you too.” Amelia leaned forward and put her head low on Corrin’s shoulders and wrapped her arms around her. Teardrops trickled down her cheeks only to be absorbed into her aunt’s shirtwaist. Although Aunt Corrin hadn’t said she loved her, Amelia knew the bond between them would only grow stronger with time.
They held each other for a couple of minutes. Amelia was grateful for her aunt, and for the changes that were brought into their lives that both of them had resented only one week ago. She allowed the hug to bathe them with love---the kind that heals old hurts, fills empty hearts to overflowing, and renews the human spirit with a hope for the future. Then she felt something wet fall onto her head.
Her aunt was crying! The longer they clung to each other, the more Amelia knew they were becoming the family they always were, but never knew.
When Amelia finally withdrew, she noticed for the first time that the shoulder of her dress was wet also from her Aunt’s teardrops. She now knew what to give Aunt Corrin for her birthday---the same gift her mother had asked from her every year for her own birthday. But she would have to practice the piano before next Saturday. The two ladies rubbed their eyes and began to laugh. Amelia from the overwhelming joy that had overtaken her, and she hoped her aunt’s laughter signified the same thing.
Just then an extremely loud crack of thunder crashed through the air directly above them. Startled, Amelia screamed. She blushed and quickly explained that there just wasn’t any way for her to be forewarned about such noise.
The rain pounded down upon them as the three packed up the picnic as quickly as possible and headed back to the saloon. Paul tried to hurry Amelia through the forest, but she wasn’t able to negotiate the trees as easily as he could. She was soaked by the time they were able to join Corrin in the kitchen. They decided to warm up and dry off in the parlor.
Amelia and her aunt went to their rooms and changed into dry clothing while Paul toweled off in the parlor. The ladies soon joined him and they relaxed in the coziness of Corrin Dannon’s home.
It surprised Amelia that she had come to think of the top floor of the saloon as her home. Molly had heard stories of how the top floors of saloons were not nice places, but she’d been wrong, at least about her aunt’s saloon. In fact, Amelia hadn’t heard anyone upstairs except for Aunt Corrin and Paul and Jeremiah, and they were only there upon invitation. Obviously, Molly had been wrong about a lot of things. Amelia realized she’d been childish far longer than any of her friends due to her blindness. Why had others sought to keep her that way?
Later in the afternoon, Paul announced it was time for him to leave to finish some paperwork he had started the day before. Amelia escorted him to the saloon door in order to ask him when she might be able to use his piano to practice.
Paul told her he would take her to the piano only after she agreed to first accompany him to lunch. She agreed, and they arranged a time for him to come for her the next day. He placed his arm around her waist, but she drew away from him.
“I don’t kiss blackmailers!” Amelia turned to go back upstairs.
“You do now!” He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him and kissed her firmly, but lovingly.
“You’re a scoundrel, Paul Strupel,” she said when he allowed her to take her leave.
“And a pleasant evening to you, too, Miss Jackson.”
› › ›
The rain continued in torrents through the rest of the day and remained relentless through Monday also. This cooled the air considerably, causing a chill and Amelia decided to cancel her plans for lunch that day. She wasn’t particularly interested in venturing out into the cold rain. Walking on a clear, dry day was a difficult enough feat for her to perform, but slippery mud was not something she was eager to negotiate.
The peculiar thing about the rain was that her Aunt’s business seemed to be booming during pa
rts of the day that were normally slow. This certainly made it easier for Corrin to find a crony of hers to take a message to Paul that Amelia was canceling their luncheon and her practice session.
Amelia spent the day downstairs in the Saloon chatting with her Aunt and the two saloon girls who were on duty. Occasionally, she was introduced to a client and conversed with them for awhile. The men understood that she was a lady and treated her respectfully. The conversations were certainly not stimulating, but were interesting enough to pass the time.
Late in the afternoon, she retreated into the upstairs parlor to read one of her Braille books she had brought with her from Georgia. These were very expensive and she only owned a few of them. Even though she had them pretty well memorized, she read them every chance she could just to stay abreast of her reading skills.
Reclining against one end of the couch with a small quilt around her shoulders, her feet were comfortably wrapped in the layers of her petticoats drawn up beside her.
Corrin appeared shortly with a tray containing a bowl of hot vegetable soup, some bread and butter from the bakery, and a pot of freshly brewed tea. After depositing the tray on Amelia’s lap, she started a fire in the fireplace to take the chill out of the air.
“Thank you, Aunt Corrin. You’re so sweet. I love you.”
“I . . . love you too, sweetie.”
Amelia smiled. She knew the words were difficult for her aunt to say, but she’d said them. As her aunt headed back downstairs, Amelia burrowed in with such a warm feeling, not from the soup or the fire, but from her heart burning with a sense of being where she belonged. And it felt good. Soon she was bathed inside and out in warmth and couldn’t keep her eyelids open any longer and yielded herself to a nap.
› › ›
Amelia wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep. Drinking some of the room-temperature tea, she settled in to begin reading, unsure if the gray gloom of the day had given way to the dismal darkness of the night. One thing was certain, though; the cold rain still beat unremittingly against the window pane.
Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch) Page 8