Perfecting Amanda, page 25
“’Fraid not, Pearlie Mae. You can look at him for a while, but then you have to let him go.” Marilyn straightened, ignoring her children’s further begging and they gave up and carried the turtle back to the spot they’d found it to let it go.
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She turned back to Amanda. “I have one question for you. Who’s watching Lydia while we’re taking this walk?”
“You know Spence is.” She frowned.
Marilyn didn’t say anything else, but lifted her brows.
“Just because he’s good with the baby doesn’t mean he’ll be a good father, or husband, in the long run. He’s Spencer Teague!” She searched for words to explain what that meant. “He’s like that painted turtle. You can admire the pretty markings and poke at it with a stick for a while, but eventually you have to let it go on its way.” Marilyn laughed aloud this time. “Spence is not a turtle. Maybe a fox, a little sneaky and able to find a way inside any hen house, but definitely not a turtle.”
“And do you think I really want to be with a man who sneaks into hen houses?”
“Point taken, but all I’m saying is that love changes people. They can become better than they ever thought they could be. Maybe Spence has become somebody you can trust.” Marilyn slipped her arm through Amanda’s and hugged it. They walked along, their steps in sync. “Or maybe I’m completely foolish. I’d hate to be the one to steer you in the wrong direction. You should do what your heart tells you to. If you feel like going back to your aunt and uncle then you should do it, but I’m going to miss you terribly. It’s been wonderful having you live nearby. I’d imagined our kids playing together as the years went on.”
“I’ll miss you, too. We could never stay here as a family anyway. I couldn’t suddenly up and marry my ‘cousin’.”
“He’s your second cousin. That’s legal,” Marilyn teased.
They talked and walked in the bright spring sunshine and Amanda realized how like a sister Marilyn had become to her. She would miss some things about Reederville, but she knew she couldn’t stay.
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During the days as she went through the motions of life, it was easier to see the logical course of her future—return to her family, raise her child and maybe someday find a husband who’d accept a widow and her daughter. At night, lying in bed, listening to spring breeze rattle her windowpane, she wasn’t so sure of her decisions.
She still slept in the smaller bedroom. It was unthinkable to sleep in the bed in which Travis had spent so many hours suffering and where he’d died.
And Spencer remained on the couch. Through the dark spaces of the house, she was aware of him and wondered if he was sleepless, too, lying there thinking of her. She knew he wanted to be with her. He might not be capable of long term responsibility and caring, but for now there was a fire for her burning hot inside him, which she could feel every time he was near and even when he wasn’t. It awoke an answering blaze inside her, a blaze she tried to quench as she rolled over to her side with a sigh.
A soft whimpering came from Lydia’s cradle. It was almost time for her to nurse. Amanda decided to intercept before the whimpers turned to wails. She got up and lifted her from her crib. “Shh, sweet girl. Mama’s here.” Climbing back in bed, she laid the baby beside her, unbuttoned the front of her nightgown and held her close.
Lydia latched on and the quiet was broken by the wet smacking sounds she made. It was cozy and peaceful, lying in bed, cuddling the warm, sleepy baby. And it was lonely. Knowing Lydia’s life rested in her hands made her feel frightened and overwhelmed. A child was a big responsibility for two people to share, let alone one.
When Lydia was finished, Amanda changed her diaper and laid her back in her crib then gazed at her small, sleeping form for several minutes.
The wind shook the window in its casement and she walked over to look out at the night. The bright, white moonlight illuminated the landscape then dimmed as clouds scudded across its pale face. From the window Amanda could see the family plot up on the rise where Travis’s body lay beside his parents and grandparents. The moon shone on the
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five headstones. The earth over his grave was a dark blot next to the waving grass covering the others.
Amanda was wide-awake. She knew if she lay down she wouldn’t be able to sleep. After ensuring the baby was sound asleep, she slipped out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen. Grabbing her coat off the hook in the back entry, she let herself out of the house.
The grass under her feet was cold and damp. Wind whipped her hair across her face and filled her lungs with fresh coolness. Hugging her coat around her, she ran across the yard and up the low rise toward the lone cottonwood tree that guarded the Baxter family.
There was no fence demarcating the area, only the headstones with their names and dates. Amanda knelt beside her husband’s grave and traced her finger over the carving in the stone. The grooves were sharp and fresh, not yet smoothed low by time and the elements like the others.
Travis Baxter — 1865-1894
The stone was rough against her palm, the earth soft beneath her knees. She felt wetness soaking through her nightgown to her legs.
“I miss you,” she said aloud. “I love you.” Her heart ached so badly it was hard to draw breath. For once she let her tears flow freely. The wind dried them instantly on her face, leaving a stiff residue of salt behind. “I can’t abide by your wishes, Travis. I won’t allow Spence to look after Lydia and me, to become a part of our lives. He’s not who you think he is. If you’d known the truth, you never would have asked it.” She dropped her hand to her lap and closed her eyes, but could still see the shape of the pale stone inside her eyelids. “I’m sorry. I lied to you all along. I was a terrible person when you were nothing but good to me.
I wish I’d told you the truth, but I don’t know how I could have or when.” Her hands folded and her monologue became a prayer of sorts.
“Please forgive me. Help me to do the right thing, to make the right decisions for Lydia…and for myself.” She squeezed her hands together tightly and her eyelids even tighter as she continued to silently ask for guidance.
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When she opened her eyes again, she leaned forward to touch the headstone one last time before rising to her feet. Something caught her attention at the base of the stone. It was a small, square shape, half-buried in the dirt. Amanda brushed the dirt away and picked up the colorful object—Spence’s pack of playing cards.
She weighed it in her hand as she pictured him coming here to place it on the grave. It was a small token, which showed Spence’s declaration of friendship for Travis was real. In her heart, she’d known the two men shared a bond, but this little offering proved it. He had admired Travis and cared for him as a friend.
She recalled one particular afternoon, when she walked past Travis’s bedroom and paused in the hallway to observe the two men laughing and talking while Spencer dealt cards. Again her heart gave a lurch and she wondered how much twisting and contracting it could take before it broke.
Placing the deck of cards back against the stone, she brushed the dirt from her hands and rose to walk from the grave.
Back in the house, Amanda washed her hands at the kitchen sink then headed for the stairs. As she crossed the dining room, Spence’s silhouette, a dark shape against the even darker shadows of the living room behind him, stood in the doorway. “Everything all right?” His husky murmur sent a shiver up her spine. She should have been accustomed to the timbre of his voice by now, but it always aroused her.
“Yes. I couldn’t sleep. I took a walk.” She set her foot on the bottom step.
A floorboard creaked as he came into the room and approached her.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I said it before, but…I’m really sorry about Travis.”
Amanda nodded and took another step. She paused on the stairs and turned to face Spence.
He stood below her, looking up at her. His brow shadowed his eyes so she couldn’t see or read them. “What are you going to do now?”
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Her skin prickled all over from his nearness. She wished she was still wearing her coat to cover her thin lawn nightgown. “I’m going to sell this place. I’m going back to my family in Michigan.” He stood less than two feet away from her. She felt the heat of his body and couldn’t stop herself imagining that heat wrapped all around her. She swallowed hard. “What are you going to do?” She tried to make the words conversational, as if she was talking to a casual acquaintance.
After a pause, Spence said, “I could go with you. Make sure you get home safely.”
Amanda gazed down into his shadowed face and the eyes she couldn’t see. It was easier to say what she had to when she couldn’t look into his sparkling blue eyes. “No, you couldn’t. That’s not going to happen.”
There was another long pause then he stepped back in surrender.
“All right. Call me if you need anything.” He retreated into the living room.
Amanda released her hands, which were clenching the fabric of her nightgown and continued on upstairs. She doubted she’d sleep much that night.
Spence lifted the last of Amanda’s baggage onto the back of the wagon. The farm, the house and all its contents had been sold to a family from Wichita. They’d been thrilled to have the furniture, dishes and tools they needed included in the price. Amanda had been much too generous.
She could’ve auctioned off the contents of the house and barn then sold the property and house separately, but she was anxious to be finished with it and move on. The excitement of the young couple as they’d viewed the house and land had tipped the scales in their favor. Spence could see that their hopefulness about their future moved her.
He’d tried to suggest she wait and think before making any rash decisions while she was still in mourning, but Amanda had shut him
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down. “Why is this any of your concern? Is this your property? Is this your land?” She stared at him without blinking until Spence looked away.
He was fulfilling his oath to Travis, taking care of Amanda and Lydia as much as Amanda would let him. It was something he would’ve done anyway, but it felt better knowing he had Travis’s blessing. In that brief moment their eyes had locked, a message had been exchanged and Spence understood that Travis was giving him permission to love her, too. But he couldn’t help her if she didn’t want his help and he couldn’t hold her if she didn’t choose to be held.
Right now all Amanda required of him was carrying boxes and bags and looking after Lydia. When they reached Kansas City, she’d made it clear they would go their separate ways.
“It wouldn’t be right,” she’d told him when he again offered to escort her home to Michigan. “I release you from what Travis asked you to do. I don’t need looking after.”
“Maybe I want to look after you and Lydia.” He gave Amanda a look that said he’d like to be much more than her traveling companion.
“Don’t you see how wrong…?” She shook her head impatiently. “No.
You wouldn’t. I’m a widow. I loved my husband and it would be disrespectful to his memory. You can never take his place in my life. I don’t want you to go any farther than the train station then you can get on with your life and I’ll return to my family.” He’d wanted to protest, to point out that Lydia was half his and he shouldn’t be denied the right to ever see her again. But considering the strange nature of his relationship with Amanda, he knew he had no paternal rights—or any rights at all. His place in their lives, or lack of, would be completely determined by Amanda.
Spence hadn’t repeated his offer in the days since the conversation, but planned to talk to her again before they reached Kansas City. The idea of walking away from Amanda and Lydia was unthinkable. They’d become lodged in him like pebbles stuck in the tread of a shoe and he couldn’t get them out of his heart.
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Fastening the tailgate on the wagon, he checked that the luggage was secure. “That’s everything,” he announced as she came out onto the front porch with Lydia in her arms. “The stage leaves at two. We’d better get moving.”
Amanda shaded her eyes and scanned the fields and farmyard one last time. Her gaze lingered on the family burial plot in the shade of the lone cottonwood tree.
Even from a distance, Spence could see the grave where Travis was buried had already grown over green, but the man would never fade away for Spence. Getting to know him and trying to fill his big shoes, had changed him in profound ways. He wished Travis well, wherever he was now.
Amanda straightened the brim of her little straw hat with the black velvet ribbon, adjusted Lydia on her hip then lifted her skirt in her other hand and walked down the steps.
Spence took the baby while she climbed into the wagon then handed Lydia up to her. He jumped up and sat beside her on the bench, gathering the reins and getting Esther moving toward town one last time.
After today the old horse would belong to the family from Wichita. Ted Landers was riding into town with Spence and Amanda so he could bring the horse and wagon back. In Reederville they’d catch the stage to Kansas City.
With Ted riding in the wagon beside them on the ride to town, there was no chance for Spence to talk privately with Amanda. After they’d bid Ted goodbye, bought their tickets and unloaded her luggage, the stage had arrived. There was no possibility of discussing something so intimate as they jostled over bumpy roads, packed into the coach with several strangers.
At the Kansas City station, Amanda’s bags and chest were unloaded once more. Spence hired a driver to transport everything to the train depot. By the time this was accomplished, her train was almost due.
Spence felt a growing sense of panic as time catapulted forward and he’d still found no opportunity to plead his case with Amanda. He kept
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silent as she purchased tickets for herself and Lydia, somehow hoping she’d ask for three instead of two, but she didn’t.
He accompanied her outside the depot, where she walked to the bench on which he’d first seen her and sat.
Up to now, she’d kept her attention focused on everything except Spence, not meeting his eyes and apparently trying to pretend he didn’t exist. Now, finally, she looked up at him, but not into his eyes. Her gaze settled somewhere in the vicinity of his left shoulder. “Thank you for helping with the luggage. We’ll be fine now. You don’t have to wait with us.” Her voice seemed a little choked when she added, “Please don’t.”
“All right then…goodbye.” He ached to pull her up off the bench and into his arms, to cling to her and keep her close to him as long as possible. Instead, he reached a finger out to touch Lydia’s face. The baby grabbed it in her little fist. He shook her hand then pried his finger out of her grip.
Spence took a step back. He felt his moment to say something, to get her to reconsider was slipping away, but didn’t know how to stop it.
“Goodbye,” he repeated.
Amanda nodded. “Thank you for helping out these past months,” she said stiffly. “I’ll always appreciate how you cared for Travis.” He waited a few more seconds, hoping her tight jaw would unclench and she’d ask him to stay, but she sat staring down the empty track.
There was nothing for him to do but walk away. The drum of his boot heels as he left Amanda and Lydia behind sounded like the clang of the door slamming shut on his prison cell in Lexington. Each step away from them felt like a year added to his sentence.
Spence only walked about a hundred yards before he stopped. His chest ached so much he could hardly draw breath. He couldn’t do this.
He looked back over his shoulder at Amanda sitting on the bench. She held Lydia on her lap facing her, resting against her arms and looking up into her face. They were involved in an intimate, one-sided conversation.
He stood and stared. He couldn’t leave them, but Amanda had made it clear she didn’t want him. God, he would give anything if he could go
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back and change the way they’d met. But how could he have done things differently and still have met Amanda? If he hadn’t pretended to be Travis Baxter that day at the station, she never would’ve spoken to him at all. Spence couldn’t regret what he’d done nor could he condone it. It was a double-edged sword.
Words from his last serious conversation with Amanda echoed in his mind. You can never take Travis’s place in my life. An idea struck him. He examined the idea from every angle looking for flaws. It wasn’t a particularly great idea, but it was all that came to him. If she didn’t want him as a substitute for Travis, maybe she would accept him as himself.
Squaring his shoulders, he brushed off his clothes, set his hat straight on his head and sauntered toward Amanda. His heart raced as he approached her and stopped right in front of her, blocking the sunlight. “Hello, ma’am.”
She looked up, shading her eyes with one hand as she’d done the first time he spoke to her. “What? Please, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
Spence took a deep breath and stuck out his hand. “I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Spencer Teague. I saw you sitting here on this bench and thought how pretty you looked with your red hair shining in the sun. I may not be the man you’re waiting to meet, but I’d like to get to know you better, if that’d be all right.” For a long moment his hand hung there waiting for her response.
Amanda’s gaze moved from his face down to his hand. She stared at it as eons of time ticked past.
“Well, Mr. Teague,” she finally said. “I’d need to know a little more about you and your background before we could strike up an acquaintance. It’s highly improper, a stranger approaching me this way.”
