Perfecting Amanda, page 24
Holding the baby so he could see her, she rattled on about the most recent clever thing Lydia had done. She talked to entertain Travis and to distract them both from the knowledge that he would probably not live to see Lydia take her first step or speak her first words.
Amanda kept a smile on her face and a cheerful tone in her voice, although her heart was breaking to see him struggle for breath. But finally she could think of nothing else to say and fell silent.
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He appeared ready to fall asleep again. His eyelids were half closed when suddenly he opened them and looked at Amanda. “Love you,” he croaked.
“I love you, too.” She felt her lips trembling, but forced her chin to firm and smiled for her husband. Swallowing her tears, she steadied her voice and repeated it. “I love you, too, Travis.” The soft sound of a footstep on the floor came from behind her, but she barely noticed it. She was used to the women coming and going from the room.
Travis’s gaze moved past her, focusing over her shoulder at the person who’d entered.
There was another footstep and Amanda realized the tread was too heavy for a woman. She turned, expecting to see Dr. Litton and froze when she was confronted with Spencer Teague instead. Her mouth dropped open, but she was too astonished to speak.
Spence glanced at her and Lydia then back to Travis. “I…came back.
It seemed like you might still need some help and I thought…” He trailed off, gazing at Travis. Spence’s eyes held shock as he took in the deterioration in his condition.
Amanda knew how he felt. Travis looked half dead already. His skin was pale and translucent. Purple smudges shadowed his eyes and his facial bones were prominent.
Spence walked hesitantly toward the bed, cleared his throat and continued, “I’m sorry you’re doing so poorly.” Amanda dragged her gaze from Spence and turned toward Travis again.
He was staring at the other man with an unreadable mix of emotions chasing across his face. He lifted his hand off the bed, beckoning Spence forward.
Amanda’s heart felt like a small, hard, lump of lead as she noted how fragile Travis’s hand had become.
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“Come here.” Travis’s bloodless lips formed the words, but little sound came out between the jagged breaths that tore in and out of his lungs.
Spence moved in close, bending toward the sick man so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice. “What can I do? Let me know. I’ll do whatever you need.”
“I want…” Travis went into a coughing fit that shook his body.
Spence moved to his side and lifted his upper body so he could breathe better. Amanda offered him water. As the coughing subsided, Travis gasped for breath and sipped a little water.
“Don’t talk. Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up. You can ask me then.”
Travis shook his head once. “No. Now,” he rasped. “I want you to take care of Amanda and Lydia.”
Spence glanced quickly at Amanda then back at Travis. “Of course.
But are you sure? I don’t know if I’m the right person to…” Travis frowned. “Yes, you are. I wouldn’t trust them to anyone else.” Spence hesitated another moment before nodding. “All right, I will. I promise.”
Travis swallowed. “Good,” he whispered. His eyelids fluttered then closed.
Spence laid him back against the pillow and rose to stand staring down at Travis.
Amanda sat in her chair, holding the baby in one arm and Travis’s hand in the other.
After a moment Spence said, “Here, let me take her.” He held out his hands for Lydia.
Amanda gratefully surrendered the sleepy baby. Lydia’s head lolled and her lower lip stuck out as he received her into his arms. A bubble of drool popped on her lips and he smiled as he wiped it away with his thumb. He lifted the baby up to his chest and held her close, jiggling her a little.
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Amanda turned her attention back to Travis. She held both of his chilly hands in hers and closed her eyes to pray for him. As she begged God to release him from his pain, she was dimly aware of Spence pacing the room, walking to the window and back again. The sound of his boots on the hardwood floor was comforting. She rested her forehead against her arms and closed her eyes, continuing to clutch Travis’s hands.
When she awoke, it was because something had changed. She opened her eyes and sat up, recognizing what was different. The light in the room had faded to gray and Travis had stopped fighting for breath.
She stared at his quiet face, not a muscle twitching beneath his skin and knew there was no spark of life left in him. Slowly she released his slack fingers and withdrew her hands.
Amanda looked across the bed at Spence. He’d brought a second chair into the room and sat in it, still as a statue in the shadows. Lydia was no longer in his arms. He must have put her in her cradle. His face was impassive as he stared at Travis. After a moment his gaze met Amanda’s. “He was the best man I’ve ever known. I’m sorry.” She nodded and looked at Travis again. Her skin felt cold and her insides numb. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her body.
Spence got up and came around the bed. He put a blanket around her shoulders and rested his hands there for second. He squeezed her shoulders lightly then returned to his chair on the opposite side of the bed.
Together they sat in silent vigil over Travis while the night grew darker.
As the next few days passed, Amanda felt like she was moving through a dream from which she couldn’t wake up. There was no time to breathe or think. She had to make basic decisions, accomplish tasks and answer questions. Perhaps it was for the best. Thinking about deeper things wasn’t something she was prepared to do at the moment.
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Reederville had no undertaker so the job of washing and preparing Travis’s body for burial fell to her. It was common for a relative to help with this intimate service, but neither Travis nor Amanda had relatives nearby.
Spence offered to help.
She stared at him, feeling she should refuse. Everything about him including the kiss they’d shared was an affront to her husband’s memory.
“I liked him, Amanda. He was the kind of man I wished I’d had for a brother. Please, let me help.”
Because she was exhausted and because she didn’t want to rely on the church ladies’ help yet again, she agreed.
They worked together in silence, lifting, washing and changing Travis as they had throughout the months of his illness for the last time.
Later that evening, Amanda stood in her black dress beside his body laid out on the dining room table, while people filed past. They squeezed her hand and murmured condolences before moving on.
Amanda slept with Lydia beside her that night. She cuddled her child close, listening to her breathe and make little sounds in her sleep. Tears finally came and she sobbed quietly, holding back so she wouldn’t wake the baby.
The next day, she stood beside the open grave and watched the pallbearers lower the ready-made coffin Spence had bought in town down into the pit. She tossed in her handful of dirt then moved away, Spence’s palm pressing against her lower back.
Later, she stood beside a table laden with food, accepting more condolences and gazing blindly at the sad faces.
“You should eat, dear. You must have something.” Mrs. Jamison urged a plate into her hands.
The quiet, respectful murmur of voices grew louder as neighbors visited and shared their news. Amanda couldn’t make out one word. The buzz of voices sounded like a swarm of bees. Her mind was unfocused,
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fragmented. Odd details caught and held her attention. She couldn’t stop staring at the tiny stuffed bird perched on Molly Edwards’ hat.
“Have you had something to drink?” Mrs. Kirkpatrick took away her barely-touched plate and pressed a steaming cup into her hands. “I think a little hot toddy is in order on such a mournful day.” Amanda sipped. The fiery liquid burned down her throat and settled in her stomach. It radiated heat like a little coal oil stove. She was so tired. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and lay down.
Again she felt Spence’s hand at her back, smelled his familiar scent as he came up beside her. “Had enough? I don’t think anyone would fault you if you went upstairs for a rest. Use Lydia as an excuse.” She sipped her drink and almost smiled at the unbelievable irony of Spencer Teague taking her place at Travis’s wake to accept condolences on her behalf.
“Go ahead.” He took her drink from her hand.
Obediently, Amanda moved toward the stairs. People parted before her as if she was a ship cutting through waves.
She went up to what had become her room over the past months—
Travis’s old bedroom. Curling up under the covers, she breathed a sigh of relief at being out from under the community’s scrutiny. She closed her eyes and in moments was deeply asleep.
She woke to a hand shaking her shoulder and Lydia’s wail.
“Wake up. She needs to eat.” Spence’s low voice prodded her. He sat on the edge of the bed and put Lydia in her arms when she reached for her.
As she reached to open the front of her nightgown, she realized she was still wearing her black dress. She fumbled with the long row of buttons.
Spence moved her hands aside and began to unfasten them for her.
There was nothing sexual in his gesture. He unbuttoned the whole row then took Lydia from her arms and laid her kicking and crying on the
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foot of the bed. He helped Amanda out of her dress and petticoat then loosened and removed her corset. When she was clad only in her chemise and bloomers, he helped her back under the covers and handed her the baby, who was now screaming and shaking with fury at the delay.
Amanda took her daughter and held her close, unlacing the front of her chemise and guiding her nipple to the baby’s seeking mouth. Lydia latched on with an angry, toothless bite and sucked hard. She made guttural grunts and snorting noises as she nursed.
Spence smiled, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “Guess, she was starving, the poor girl.”
He continued to sit on the edge of the bed, watching her feed the baby. It wasn’t right. She should probably send him away, but it felt good and comfortable having him there. She didn’t tell him to go.
“Is everyone gone?” she asked as she moved Lydia to the other breast.
He nodded.
What happens next? She wanted to ask him. She felt very young and uncertain of her future. There were bills to pay, a farm to run, a child to raise and Amanda had no idea how she was supposed to handle all that.
Travis had practically bequeath her to Spence. It would be all too easy to accept his dying wish just to have a man to help her out, but she didn’t want to put her trust in Spence. She didn’t want to depend on him simply because he was here now. He might not be tomorrow. It wasn’t his nature to stick with one person in one place.
Lydia suddenly released her nipple with a loud pop and a burp. Milk dribbled from the corner of her mouth and she turned away from her mother to stare up at Spence with wide, surprised eyes.
“Well, hello,” he said. “Are you done being mad at me? I got you what you wanted, didn’t I?” He lifted her up to his shoulder and began to rub her back.
“You should put a rag on your shoulder,” Amanda cautioned, pulling her chemise back over her breasts.
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Lydia let out another loud, wet burp and it was too late. Milk spattered Spence’s shirt. He pulled the baby away and craned his neck to the side to examine the damage. “Oh, yeah? I love you, too.” Handing her back to Amanda, he took off his shirt and tossed it aside.
Amanda was ashamed to feel warmth bloom in her core at the sight of his biceps, developed from months of hard labor on the farm. She tried not to notice the way his undershirt stretched over his chest muscles.
Quickly she looked away. It was so incredibly wrong to be aroused by this man on the day of her husband’s funeral. What kind of horrible person was she? What kind of base, sluttish woman? “Thank you for bringing Lydia to me, but will you go now, please?” He looked at her with a frown. “I was just going to change her and put her in bed for you.”
“I’m not sick. I can do it myself,” she said briskly. “Thank you.”
“Fine.” Spence stooped to pick his shirt up off the floor. “Good night then.”
“Good night.”
Amanda didn’t realize she was holding her breath until the door closed behind him and she let it go.
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Chapter Twenty
“I’m selling the farm and moving back to Michigan,” Amanda announced to Marilyn Landers as they walked along the edge of a field of wheat. The waving grass was already knee high. The breeze undulated across the open field setting the wheat whispering. She imagined the crop in July, golden yellow instead of spring green and ready for harvest.
Travis had explained that the crop was planted in fall and wintered underground, waiting for the warmth and rains of spring to bring it to life. Amanda’s heart felt like the wheat seed in winter, waiting to be wakened, but wondering if it would ever happen, if she’d ever feel alive again.
“You’re sure that’s what you want to do?” Marilyn turned toward Pearl and Tommy racing ahead of them. “You two stay close!”
“I don’t know what else I can do. I can’t manage this farm alone. My aunt telegrammed and asked me to come home. I miss her. I miss my family and feel like I need to be with them right now. I want Lydia to be raised near family.”
Marilyn nodded. She looked down at the ground, past the bulge of her pregnancy. “I can understand that. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you with everything you went through this winter, but I’m glad we took the kids and saw Mama before she died.” Amanda reached over and rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s life, isn’t it?” Marilyn looked up at her with glistening eyes and a wavering smile. “People come and go. Nothing lasts.” Amanda thought of all that had happened to her in less than a year’s time. She’d married, had a child, lost a husband…and she’d known the
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touch of two very different men. Certainly she’d foreseen none of that last spring as she walked along the beach gazing at the lake and wondering if she would ever find love and a family of her own.
“No, I guess it doesn’t,” she said.
“What about Spencer?” Marilyn asked.
“What about him?”
“Will he go with you?”
“No. Why should he?” Amanda looked straight ahead at Pearl and Tommy, crouching in the grass at the edge of the field, examining something they’d found.
“I hated Teague on sight when I met him, knowing the horrible thing he’d done to you. But I’ve watched him work hard on the farm, care for the baby and show complete respect for you as a widow. It seems he truly cares for you and Lydia, but, more important, I think you care for him, too.”
“I can’t believe it,” Amanda exploded, whirling to face her friend. “He’s gotten to you, too! That’s what he does. He has some kind of insidious charm that absolutely no one can resist. He worms his way in and people trust him, but he always disappoints them. He’s like a child. You can only hold his interest so long then he gets bored and moves onto something else. How I could I place my future and Lydia’s in the hands of such a man?” She laughed harshly. “Can you imagine it? Traveling from one town to the next, staying in hotel rooms above a bar while he plays cards all night or runs some kind of scam to cheat people out of their money. Never knowing if we’ll be forced to grab our things and take the next train out of town. There is no kind of family life with a man like him.
It’s impossible.”
She raged on, expressing all the thoughts she’d kept to herself over the past weeks. “And what about when Lydia is old enough to learn about her father? What will I tell her—that her real daddy’s dead and she just happens to look exactly like Mama’s second husband? Then comes the inevitable day when Spence decides he’s bored with us and leaves us stranded in a hotel room for which he hasn’t even paid the bill, while he
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goes off with some floozy he’s picked up in a tavern.” Amanda crossed her arms angrily and glared at Marilyn. “No. No thank you. I don’t need Spencer Teague in my life.”
“Clearly you’ve thought about this just a little bit.” Marilyn’s voice trembled with laughter.
“It’s not funny! How can you laugh? I’m trying to decide my entire future.”
She instantly suppressed her mirth. “No. Of course, you’re right. It’s not funny.” Marilyn turned and walked forward again.
Amanda fell in step beside her.
“But, have you ever considered that Spence might have changed?
Maybe he isn’t the same man you met last summer.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending him!”
“I know. Neither can I. Maybe you’re right and he does have an almost magical power to charm people.”
“Mama, Mama, look!” Tommy came running toward them, a big box turtle clutched in both hands. “Look what we found.” He raced up to them and stopped short, panting and sweating. “Isn’t it neat? Can we keep him?” The shy, little lad Amanda had met last summer had grown a head taller and turned into a loud, confident boy.
Marilyn bent over and touched the turtle’s shell. “It’s amazing, Tommy, but I think we have to leave him here.”
“Aw, Mama!”
“He has his own business to attend to. How would you like it if a giant swooped in, grabbed you up and carried you off to his house?” Pearl came puffing up behind her brother. “Can we? Can we keep him, Mama?” She parroted Tommy.
