Amelia leaned back on her hands. “You have such lovely memories of your mother.”
“I do. I miss her.”
“It hasn’t been very long for you. My parents have been gone for eight years. I’ve never stopped missing them, but I’ve grown used to it.”
He rested his hand over hers and squeezed. “I’m glad to hear it gets more bearable.”
She rose to look down at him—was she that anxious to avoid his touches? “I think your mother would want you to be happy.”
It was something to think about as they made their way back to the house. He bade her good night and waited until she closed the door to her room before he went upstairs. As always, he peeked into Pa’s room. He slept on his back. The big bed appeared so wide with just one person in it, but Pa found comfort in familiar things—even the bed he’d once shared with his wife.
Zach watched him. Asleep, Pa was the strong, sure man Zach remembered.
He closed the door and tiptoed away. No point in wishing things were like they’d been. This was now his lot in life.
Recalling what Amelia had said about Joseph, he opened his Bible to Genesis and read the story. In all the dreadful things Joseph had endured, the Lord was with him. It was enough for Joseph, and it was enough for Zach.
Chapter Eleven
Another Monday morning dawned. Amelia prepared to do the laundry again. Already, there was a smelly, dirty pile accumulated since last week. No doubt it was one of the tasks Gil was expected to do, but didn’t.
She put off starting the job until Zach rode away to return to the herd. Only because she didn’t want him to feel he needed to help her carry water. Not because she cherished every minute he was there and lingered over a second cup of coffee, as did he. No, that would be plumb foolish. Instead of thinking of Zach, her thoughts should be going over Jacob’s letter and anticipating the possibility of their shared future.
The faint scent of soap wafted over her as she scrubbed clothes with a steady rhythm. Poppy darted about, her giggles filling the yard as Kat chased her. Pa wandered nearby, humming a tune that seemed buried deep in his memory, his steps slow but deliberate. Amelia watched him closely, pausing in her work now and then to ensure he stayed within sight.
The sun climbed higher. By midday, the household settled into a quiet hum of activity. Amelia paused at the well, wiping her brow and scanning the tree line, a faint unease tugging at her thoughts. It was necessary for Zach to be away attendingto ranch matters, but the emptiness left in his absence seemed to grow heavier with each passing hour. She glanced often at the horizon, fearful that Sobel would realize Zach was away and consider bothering her.
Gil approached, a water bucket in his hand. “I’m going to clean up the cookhouse.” His gaze darted away. He likely had more in mind than scrubbing the floor, but she couldn’t stop him from nipping from one of his bottles. She cooked the noon meal. Gil didn’t join them, not that she’d expected he would, but there’d lingered a faint hope he was sober.
The afternoon passed in a blur of hanging laundry, emptying the wash water on the thirsty garden, and bringing in items as they dried.
She took in the sheets for Zach’s bed and headed up the stairs. At her request this morning, he’d brought down the bedding and his laundry. The linens were crispy fresh, carrying the scent of mountain air. She stepped into the room she’d barely entered before, only dashing in to give it a quick dusting.
This time, she gave it an intense study. It might be the last time she had an excuse to linger. With a flick of her wrists, she spread the sheet over the mattress and tucked in the edges. She laid two gray woolen blankets on top and then folded the Hudson’s Bay blanket of white with green, red, yellow, and black stripes. She hung it over the black metal frame at the foot of the bed. She put the pillow slip over the feather pillow. Stepping back, she admired the completed job. The imprint of his body remained in the mattress, showing through the taut covers. Of course, it didn’t. That was merely a silly thought.
She rumbled her lips at her vivid imagination and turned her attention to the two items on the table by his bed—his Bible and a lamp.
A chest of drawers stood to one side. On top was a stack of newspapers and three books. She didn’t open the drawers, eventhough she was tempted. Instead, she shifted her gaze to the dark-blue shirt hanging on a hook. Why had he never worn it? The color would emphasize his dark, good looks. Upon closer examination, she discovered the reason. It had a tear near the elbow and a button missing on the cuff. She’d soon have that fixed. The fabric carried a hint of his scent—leather, warm grass, and blue skies.
My, wasn’t she getting fanciful?
Circling the room brought her to the window. From there, she could see the barn and the rolling hills beyond and the mountains rising into the sky. She scanned the horizon from one side to the other. Nothing moved. No one rode toward the house. Not that she expected anyone. With a shake of her head, she turned aside.
Leaving the shirt hanging on the doorknob, she carried the other clean sheets to Pa’s room and made his bed. Straightening, she studied the photo of Zach’s mother, which it stood on the nearby dresser. A pretty woman with the same direct gaze as her son had. A smile as sweet and welcoming as a hug.
Amelia stepped away, careful not to move anything. Doing so would upset Pa.
“Mama.”
“Hi, my sweet child.” She swung the girl into her arms and kissed her cheek. “You smell like grass. What have you been doing?”
“Playing.”
Amelia chuckled. “Good to know.”
Poppy stared into Amelia’s eyes, her study so intense, Amelia wondered what she had in mind. She was about to ask what the child was thinking when Poppy spoke.
“Where Gampa?”
