“They were, but Boyd got his wish to go swimming. My mother sent us to the gorge to wash up.” Kyle met her eyes, his own sparkling from the memory. “We had a ball that afternoon.”
Loving this private side of Kyle, Amelia linked her fingers and tucked her hands against her stomach. “How wonderful it must have been to have brothers to fight with,” she said, encouraging him to go on talking.
To her surprise, Kyle laughed an honest-to-goodness laugh. “That’s all we ever did. We drove my parents crazy.” As his smile faded, he searched her eyes. “What’s it like to be an only child?”
“Lonely.” She didn’t even have to think about it. It was dreadful not having someone to fight and laugh with. “I always wanted a brother,” she said, surprising herself with her confession.
“If I had known, I would have given you Boyd.”
“No you wouldn’t,” she said with a laugh. “Your life would have been too boring without Boyd around to antagonize you.”
“Probably.”
“What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” she asked, ignoring the slivers of morning light slipping beneath the crack of the door. She wanted to hold on to the sudden warmth she saw in Kyle’s eyes. She liked him like this.
“I rode my horse down Liberty Street in my underwear because Evelyn stole my clothes.”
The image made Amelia laugh and she leaned forward to ask what had happened, but the slow realization that Kyle had been unclothed with Evelyn seeped into her mind and didn’t feel funny at all. Amelia had never really thought about the intimate side of Kyle’s relationship with Evelyn. Surely he’d kissed her. Maybe they had done a lot more than that.
Her eyes met Kyle’s and curiosity overcame propriety. “Do you still love her?”
“Yes.”
Pain coursed through Amelia and her chest tightened. Of course he loved Evelyn. She had been the one to break their engagement. Not Kyle. He’d wanted to marry Evelyn.
“She’s been my friend since childhood.”
Amelia lowered her lashes to hide her reaction. “You don’t have to explain. I love Evelyn, too.”
“It’s not—”
“What did Richard want when he came by the house last evening,” she blurted before Kyle could embarrass her with his explanation. It didn’t matter why he loved Evelyn. It only mattered that he did.
Kyle blinked at her sudden change of topic. “He came to invite us to supper.”
The breath left Amelia’s lungs and she sagged back in her chair. Though Richard had only stayed a few minutes last night before riding out of the yard with Kyle, Amelia had hidden in the bedroom until they were gone. “You didn’t accept, did you?”
“No. I invited him to our house instead.”
“You what?”
“I didn’t think you would mind. I was going to tell you when I came home for breakfast this morning that Richard would be coming to supper tonight.”
“I’m in mourning, Kyle. I can’t be hosting supper parties.”
“It’s not a party. It’s just a private meal with a close friend.”
“Oh, God.” Realizing she’d spoken aloud, Amelia straightened up in her chair. “What will I make?”
“Anything. Don’t worry about it. It’s just Richard. It’s no different than if you were cooking for me or one of my brothers.”
It was worlds different, but Amelia kept her anxiety to herself. “Is he bringing Catherine with him?” she asked, praying Lucinda’s oldest sister would come and help lessen the tension.
“I didn’t invite her.”
“Why not?”
“She’s Richard’s stepmother, not his wife.”
“Well, they share the same house, Kyle. Catherine will eat alone if Richard isn’t there. I’ll send her a note today and ask her to come.”
Kyle opened his mouth, then clamped his jaw shut.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“What’s wrong, Kyle?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you wearing that expression?” He didn’t answer and Amelia’s stomach clenched. “Are you keeping something from me that I should know?”
His eyes became dark wells of regret. The pain in his expression was so raw it frightened her. God help him, but whatever he was hiding, it was killing him. He swallowed and his jaw flexed as if working to dredge the words up from his soul.
Amelia was suddenly terrified to hear them. She jerked to her feet and glanced at the door. “I heard a shout outside. It’s probably your crew arriving.” She didn’t want to hear his confession and lose her respect for her husband. Other than her attraction to Kyle, that’s all she had to hold on to.
He caught her hand, his expression filled with angst. “I need to tell you something.”
She stepped back, sensing that whatever he wanted to confess was going to hurt both of them. “Your crew is arriving, and I don’t want to start a conversation we can’t finish.” She backed toward the door. “I’m going home to get your breakfast ready.”
Chapter Nineteen
Later that day, Amelia closed her father’s journal and rubbed her eyes. She’d spent hours in the office at the lumberyard looking for errors, but her father’s books were accurate. The mill was earning a profit, just as Kyle had suspected. It wasn’t much, but it had been enough to keep the mill operating without the need to mortgage anything. So where could he possibly have been spending his money?
Amelia rubbed her temples, her bleary gaze resting on the contents of the open desk drawer while she racked her brain for ideas. Not only did she want to know for her own peace of mind, but she wanted to find the answer for Kyle, to feel proud that she’d helped him.
She dug out the dry ink bottle that had kept the drawer from closing, but before shutting it, she ran her finger across several old writing utensils her father had used at one time or another. “What did you do with your money, Papa?” she asked, longing to hear him answer, to hear the sound of his voice, which she missed so deeply.
Something shiny peeked from beneath the pens and she dug out a coinlike object. It was an engraved, flat piece of mother-of-pearl. She flipped it over and studied it from several different angles in order to read the inscription. TLD was engraved on the back side. Thomas L. Drake? That didn’t make sense. Her father’s middle name was Reginald, so why would he have an l stuck between his initials?
Amelia dug through the drawer and found two more pieces, but they were more worn than the first piece she’d discovered.
The office door swung open and she glanced up, hoping Kyle or Jeb or whoever was coming in the door would know what the odd pieces were and what the l stood for.
To her amazement, her mother stepped inside, her expression tentative as she scanned the office. Her gaze lingered on a ragged old flannel jacket that Amelia’s father had worn. It was lying across the top of a file cabinet now because Amelia couldn’t bear to throw it away. Her mother hugged her arms across her stomach, her eyes filled with pain. “Please tell me there is something here that I can help you with. I can’t spend another minute alone in that house.”
“Oh, Mama.” Amelia slipped the mother-of-pearl pieces into her shirt pocket and hurried to her mother’s side, ashamed that she hadn’t been spending more time with her. “I’m sorry. I haven’t considered how miserable you must be at home.”
“I didn’t come here to make you feel bad. I just need something to do. I can’t stand being alone any longer.” The dispirited expression on her mother’s face broke Amelia’s heart. Although she couldn’t think of a single thing her mother could do, Amelia vowed to find some type of project for her.
“Come on, Mama. Let’s make a cup of tea and visit a while.” She took her mother to the mess hall and put the kettle on the stove. “Look in the pantry and see if there's any flour and brown sugar,” Amelia instructed as she took baking tins from the cupboard. “I'm going to make a batch of oat streusel to go with our tea. I’m starving an
d in no mood for Shorty’s cooking.”
“Your father said the man’s a terrible cook.”
“He is,” Amelia said with a laugh. “But he tries.” She dragged out a cookbook and smiled when her mother looked over her shoulder.
“So this is how Elizabeth has known how to make all those wonderful dishes for us. I thought she was a brilliant cook and now I find out she's been cheating all these years.”
“Everyone uses a cookbook if they don't know how to make something. I used one all the time when I lived in my apartment.”
“I guess I hadn’t considered that.” Her mother took the spoon from Amelia’s hand. “Let me do this.” She read the recipe directions, measured the ingredients, then stirred the mix. After a few minutes of silence, she glanced at Amelia. “Were you unhappy being a teacher?”
“No,” Amelia said truthfully. She’d been worlds beyond unhappy, but she would never confess that to her mother.
“I always wondered why you never married Richard. You seemed quite taken with him.”
Amelia looked away from her mother’s probing stare. “Richard had to go back to college.”
“Probably a good thing he did,” she said, scraping the mixture into two baking pans. “You were too infatuated with that boy. He would have hurt you, honey.” She shrugged. “There are some men you just can’t depend on. Is that ready to go in the oven now?”
Glad to change the subject, Amelia checked the fire that the men had started earlier then told her mother to put in both pans. She poured two cups of tea and they sat at the table while the streusel was baking.
Her mother cradled the cup between her palms and sipped for a few minutes, then she sighed and cast a hopeless look at Amelia. “I’ve been trying to think of ways to help you and Kyle, but I have no skills that would earn us a single dollar. How on earth am I ever going to be anything but a burden to you?”
“You don’t need to do anything, Mama. Kyle and I can manage alone.”
Her mother inspected the utensils on the wall, then gazed at the line of cookbooks on the shelf. “I've spent my life trying to make a good home for you and your father. I thought that meant having pretty chandeliers and parquet floors, hosting dinner parties and church meetings.” She raised her gaze to Amelia. “I didn't know I was supposed to teach my daughter to cook and help my husband with his business.”
“Papa wouldn’t have wanted you here. I think he felt guilty for spending so much time at the mill these past few years and that’s why he showered you with gifts all the time.”
Her mother’s nostrils flared and she pushed away from the table. “I didn’t need those gifts, Amelia. I would have rather he spent time with me.” She stood up and put her cup in the sink with a clunk. “You said the streusel would be done in thirty minutes. Should we check it now?”
Her mother’s sudden withdrawal made Amelia wonder if there had been something painful between her parents that they had kept to themselves. She didn’t know two people who’d been more in love with each other, but there was honest pain in her mother’s eyes when she turned back to face Amelia. “Why did Richard come to your wedding?”
Amelia flinched in surprise. “He’s been friends with Kyle for years.”
“No man would look at his friend’s bride the way that boy was looking at you, Amelia. Mark my words. Whatever you two started before he went back to school, he’s looking to finish.”
“Then he’s too late, Mama. I’m married to Kyle now.”
“You remember that when Richard conveniently forgets that fact.”
Insulted, but unwilling to argue with her mother, Amelia bit her lip and removed the streusel. Any protestations or denials would only make her look suspect. She set the pans on the counter to cool.
“Honey.” Her mother rubbed her palm across Amelia’s shoulder. “I’m not trying to offend you. I know it’s hard to let go of your first love, but Kyle’s a good man and he deserves your loyalty.”
“He’s my husband, Mama. Of course he’ll have my loyalty. I’m long past my infatuation with Richard,” Amelia said, knowing she meant it.
“I hope so.” She picked up the knife and pointed toward the streusel. “Can I cut that now?”
Before Amelia could answer, Shorty and the crew of nine men came pounding through the door. “What smells so good?” Willie asked, sniffing his way to the counter. Every eye in the room focused on the streusel as the men sought the source of the delicious aroma.
Amelia’s gaze swung back to the open doorway where Kyle stood frowning. God in heaven, why couldn’t the man smile more often? If it was the only thing she succeeded in changing about their relationship, she was going to teach him how to laugh.
“What’s going on?” he asked, shifting his gaze between Amelia and her mother as if he’d caught them stealing the silverware.
Amelia straightened her shoulders and took a step closer to her mother. She needed to be here as much as Amelia did. “Mama made dessert for everyone,” Amelia said, loving the way her mother’s chin lifted a notch.
The men backhanded their mouths, but Kyle didn’t budge from the doorway. To Amelia’s surprise, her mother propped a fist on her hip and faced Kyle. “Quit frowning at me, young man, and sit down or you’re not getting a slice of this streusel.”
As if her mother had crossed the room and pinched him, Kyle instantly blinked the frown off his face. “Sorry,” he said, then to Amelia’s surprise, he took a seat at the table with the rest of the crew.
The instant they got their plates, the streusel disappeared amid profuse groans of pleasure. It was then that Amelia discovered how to make grown men grovel. Just give them sex or food and they were happy. How pathetic.
As if to confirm her thought, Jeb finished his slice and rubbed his stomach. “That was great, Victoria. It’s a nice change from Shorty's gruel.”
Shorty glared at Jeb, but her mother smiled, her eyes reflecting a new sense of pride that Amelia had never before seen.
“Mama’s going to help Shorty with the cooking,” Amelia announced, then linked her fingers in front of her hips, trying to look confident in the face of her mother’s surprise and Kyle’s scowl.
Shorty glanced at Kyle, his expression outraged. “What’s she talking about?”
Amelia’s stomach churned in the face of Kyle’s authority, but she refused to back down. “With Mama’s help, Shorty will be able to spend more time in the yard where you need him. If that doesn’t make sense to you, then I’m sure Mama can find more pleasurable pursuits to fill her time than helping us.”
Instantly, Kyle’s eyes scanned the number of bodies circled around the table and Amelia knew she’d won. Even though Kyle could depend on Boyd to run the depot, Kyle had his hands full with the lumberyard. No matter how much Kyle disliked the idea of having women at his mill, he needed every man he had out in the yard.
Chapter Twenty
Amelia prayed Catherine wouldn’t notice her trembling as they exchanged a hug in the parlor, but to her surprise, Catherine felt just as tense.
“You look lovely, Amelia.” Catherine smiled, and Amelia felt anything but lovely. In a word, Catherine was beautiful. All the Clark girls were gorgeous, but they were also genuinely kind and loving so it was difficult to hate them for being so pretty. Still, Amelia wished she was wearing something more attractive than her black mourning dress.
She glanced at Kyle and Richard, who had just exchanged a handshake. That they were pleased to see each other was obvious in their beaming expressions.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Amelia said, groping for a suitable way to greet Richard.
“I’m famished. Catherine fairly starves me.” Richard cast a teasing smile at his stepmother, who flushed and lowered her lashes. He laughed and gave her a side-armed hug, then turned back to Amelia. “You do look lovely this evening,” he said, then to her chagrin, he pressed his lips to the back of her hand.
Amelia summoned a believable smile, but tugged her fingers from Richa
rd’s grasp. “Thank you. Why don’t you and Kyle relax in the parlor while I get beverages for everyone?”
“I’ll help you,” Catherine said, latching on to Amelia’s arm as if desperate to escape the men.
Amelia had thought Catherine’s presence would lessen the tension, but to her surprise it actually made the situation worse. Catherine had been different since she’d married Alfred Cameron. Before the marriage, when she still lived with her parents, Catherine had been happier, more talkative, and though Amelia had gone to their house to visit Lucinda, she’d enjoyed the teasing that went on between the four sisters. Catherine was still friendly, but her eyes were full of heartache and secrets now.
The instant they stepped into the kitchen Catherine gasped. “This is splendid!”
Amelia smiled, knowing her first reaction had been similar. “Kyle and his brothers built the house,” she said, then conveyed the details while pouring ale for the men and tea for herself and Catherine.
To Amelia’s relief, they shared an amiable drink in the parlor, then brought their light conversation to the table with them, which seemed to calm Catherine’s unease and her own as well.
Kyle and Richard headed toward the beer barrel in the pantry for the third time. Amelia and Catherine exchanged a glance, then flinched when a loud burst of laughter came from the pantry. Kyle and Richard came back out with grins on their faces and proceeded to wash down their supper with several mugs of ale.
“How many times did we fall from that vine before your father cut it down?” Richard asked, his face alight with laughter.
Kyle snorted, his own face flushed, his eyes alive with humor that mesmerized Amelia. She’d never seen him like this, almost boyish in his enthusiasm. Richard and Kyle were talking about a thick, wild grapevine that they had used to swing out over the gorge and drop several feet into the water. Apparently it didn’t always make a full arc over the water, and whoever had taken the ride would come crashing back into the bank they had just jumped from.
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