“Oh! Oh, no!”
Amelia whirled, her wide eyes coming to rest on Amy.
“What? What is it?” Beau’s voice was filled with concerned panic as he knelt at his wife’s side.
“I think it’s time!” Amy cried. “The baby’s coming!”
The room erupted into chaos as voices tripped over each other. Amelia and Miss Ellie moved to Amy’s side as Alan and Sawyer slowly backed away as though Amy had just admitted to having contracted a deadly disease.
“Beau, help her into the spare room,” Miss Ellie commanded as she lovingly brushed a strand of Amy’s hair off her forehead, a tender smile on her lips. “Everything will be just fine,” she reassured before turning briskly to make her way down the hall. “Sawyer, start some more water to boiling,” she called over her shoulder.
Amelia turned to Beau, who was still kneeling, dumbfounded, at Amy’s side. “Come, Beau. Let’s get her up.” Amelia slipped her arm beneath Amy’s, her brow puckering with worry as a groan escaped Amy’s lips. “Beau!”
Rousing from his stupor, Beau finally stood and rather than moving to help Amelia, slid his strong arms under Amy’s knees and shoulder, lifting her up easily. Amy wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, her love for him shining from her eyes. “Let’s go have this baby, darlin’,” Beau whispered, his lips a breath away from Amy’s. And with a soft kiss on his wife’s lips, Beau bore his precious burden down the hall.
Amelia followed, pausing outside the room where her husband lay. Resting her head on the rough wood of the door, she lifted a prayer for Brand and for Amy. Brother and sister, one fighting for his life, the other fighting to give life. Straightening her shoulders and mustering her courage, Amelia made her way to Amy. She would help her sister-in-law, and find joy in this night.
Chapter 20
“Amelia.”
She heard her name being called as though from the other end of a long tunnel.
“Amelia.” The voice was relentless as Amelia fought for consciousness. She struggled to open her heavy lids. Raising her head from where it lay on the scratchy wool blanket which covered Brand, her gaze met the blue eyes of the man she had grown to love more than she ever thought possible.
“You’re awake!” Her soft exclamation sounded loud in the quiet room. She rose from floor to sit on the narrow bed beside her husband, his hand clasped within her own. “How do you feel?”
Brand grimaced. “I’m not sure which is worse, the pain in my shoulder or the headache from the medicine Doc gave me.” Brand shushed her as she opened her mouth to offer sympathy. “I’m fine, really, honey. I was only teasing.”
“Oh, Brand,” Amelia choked the words past a narrow throat. The emotions of the night along with her fatigue burgeoned to the surface and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Come here, darlin’.” Brand pulled her close with his uninjured arm until she was resting against his good shoulder. He held her as she cried, his hands smoothing her hair where it hung loosely down her back. “Amelia-” he started, but her little hand shot out to cover his mouth and stop his words.
“Thank you, Brand.” The words burst from her lips straight from her heart. “Thank you, for saving me once more. I love you.”
Amelia watched as her husband swallowed hard. The eyes that met hers were misted with tears. “And I love you,” he whispered as his lips met hers in a tender kiss.
“Hey, there, you two. Want to meet your new niece?” Beau stood bleary-eyed, but happy in the open doorway, a small bundle in his arms.
“You bet I do,” Brand assured his brother-in-law, a grin on his face.
Of course, Amelia had already been introduced to the new addition to the Weston family. She had been there to witness the miracle of the baby’s birth, one of the fastest first baby’s Doc Childers’ had ever delivered, in the wee hours of the morning.
“Uncle Brand, meet your niece, Charlotte Claire Weston,” Beau beamed as he deposited the little blanket-wrapped bundle into Amelia’s arms.
Brand watched in awe as his wife cooed at the tiny baby in her arms. She lightly brushed her nose against a soft cheek, breathing in the sweet baby scent, before turning the little girl toward him. She was beautiful, Amy’s little girl. Brand marveled at the love he already felt for this little child. His thoughts turned briefly to his parents, wishing they were here to see the wonderful blessing that had come to their family.
“She’s beautiful, Beau.” Brand’s eyes met those of his friend and brother.
“She is at that,” Beau responded, clearing the emotion from his throat.
“Amy?” Brand figured she was just fine or he would have heard, but he had to ask.
“She was wonderful. But now she is asleep. I’ve been walking this little girl for the last hour, so her mama can rest.”
Brand smiled to himself as he watched Beau run a hand over his face. Amy wasn’t the only tired one.
“Beau!”
They all turned as the voice of Beau’s mother, Claire, made it’s way into the doctor’s house and down the hall.
“In here, Ma,” Beau called. He turned to Amelia and held out his arms for his daughter, pride glowing in his eyes.
“Beau Weston! How could you have waited to come get me? I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you,” Claire Weston proclaimed as she sailed into Brand’s room, her eyes immediately lighting on her first grandchild.
“Meet your granddaughter, Ma. Charlotte Claire Weston.” Beau willingly placed his daughter into her grandmother’s waiting arms.
“Oh, you precious girl.”
Brand watched as Claire leaned toward the baby’s face, inhaling deeply, her nose brushing against a tiny soft cheek just as Amelia had done. Charlotte mewled softly, bringing a tender smile to Claire’s lips. “You’re probably getting hungry. Let’s get you into your mama, little one.” Claire turned to leave the room in search of her daughter-in-law. She stopped abruptly however, and turned to Brand. “Oh, Brand. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even ask how you are feeling.”
Brand chuckled. “I’m fine, grandma. You just worry about that sweet little girl.” Brand laughed again and winked when Claire smiled warmly at him and continued her search for Amy so she could feed her little girl, Beau at her heels.
“What a night,” Amelia sighed, when they were alone again, resting her head against his shoulder once more.
“What a night,” Brand agreed. And it had been. Brand recalled the fear he felt at finding Amelia once again in danger, the fierce guilt combined with fervent relief at Harmon’s death at his own hand, and now, now the love and gratitude he allowed to fill his heart. Holding his wife close, the vision of her with a baby in her arms fresh in his mind, he could imagine her holding a child of their own. With Harmon gone and their love freely expressed, Brand knew the future held wonderful promise, and he determined as he pulled Amelia close for a kiss, he would enjoy every moment.
Epilogue
Brand Callahan leaned against the wall of the church observing the festivities. It was a happy day, a welcome respite from the cloud which had hung over the town since the day Brand had shot and killed Harmon McAlister two weeks before. Brand’s shoulder still ached, but he had mostly recovered from his own wound. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth as his gaze found his wife, Amelia. She looked beautiful, a peaceful, happy expression on her lovely face. She was talking and laughing with the bride, Claire Weston-or rather, Claire Sellers. Beau’s mother’s expression matched that of Brand’s own wife, full of happiness and love. While he hoped he was the cause of Amelia’s happiness, he knew, at least for today, the glow surrounding Claire Sellers was a result of the love she shared with her new husband, Dale.
“I’m beginning to believe in this institution of marriage.” Brand chuckled at Sawyer’s comment. “Although you appear just a little too love-struck, standing here all alone mooning over your pretty wife.”
“You’re just jealous,” Brand replied, his brow quirking in the direction of Danielle W
eston. Sawyer grunted in reply, as he less subtly allowed his gaze to rest fully on Danielle where she sat cooing over her new little niece, Beau and Amy’s daughter, Charlotte Claire.
“Yup, first Beau, me, even Dale. Dropping like flies, if you ask me.” Brand bit his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Sawyer’s jaw twitched with irritation. Giving up, Brand clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder with a laugh. “I’ll leave you to your own mooning, my friend, and find my wife.”
Sawyer grunted again. He watched as Brand headed straight for Amelia. He tucked the little blond under his arm and pressed a kiss into her hair. Sawyer was not envious of his friend- too much. He appreciated Amelia’s beauty and kind heart, but he had no desire for Brand’s wife. He didn’t even envy Brand his married state, although he supposed marriage would be the only way to get what-or who- he did want. And Sawyer wanted Danielle Weston.
Sawyer had never considered marriage before. His own parents had not been married and therefore examples of successful marriages were few and far between. But the lovely Miss Weston had caused him to reconsider his position on the matter. She inspired visions of home, and baked bread, and dark-haired children, roots, and finally settling down. Sighing, Sawyer turned from the object of his dreams and desires. He would return to his office and rededicate himself to his work and pretend he felt nothing for a particularly lovely dark-haired girl.
The End.
Keep reading for samples of other books by Stephanie Street.
Sample Loved So Long Book 1 Brides of Carson’s Creek
Prologue
With a sigh, Amy Callahan dipped her toes in the cool creek water one last time, closing the cover of her borrowed dime novel with a snap. The sun had already begun its descent in the clear azure sky overhead and before long her brothers would be wondering about their evening meal. She’d have to wait until after supper to find out what would happen next to Joe Lawless and his damsel in distress.
Amy picked up her stockings and worn out boots, cast offs from Caleb, tucked them under her arm and began the short trek to the Double C relishing the feel of the cool grass between her toes. Before long the warm summer days would turn cool, and she was determined to enjoy every last minute of them.
She walked along the creek bottom, wriggling her toes in the soft green grass, welcoming the shade of the large cottonwoods. Late summer rains had made the creek swell, its waters dancing quickly over large stones and fallen branches, white crests splashing.
Glancing again at the lowering sun, Amy hoped she would make it back in time to not only prepare the evening meal but keep her brothers from becoming concerned. Since the death of their parents last year, the boys were easily unsettled, and she had no desire to cause them to worry.
Soon, the path to the Double C turned away from the lushness of the creek bottom to the drier prairie, prompting Amy to take a moment to pull on her stockings and boots.
Hastening her step, Amy continued across the sweeping prairie, it’s long grasses reaching almost to her knees. The wind blew stray strands of her honey blond hair across her eyes and instead of reaching up to restrain them, she turned her face into the breeze and inhaled deeply of the sweet air.
“Oh!” Amy groaned, sinking to the ground, her ankle throbbing. A quick look revealed the hidden offender- a rabbit hole- thankfully abandoned. Oh, but her ankle hurt. She tilted her head to the sky, blinking back tears as they threatened the threshold of her lashes, blurring her vision. What now? she wondered. The pain in her ankle increased, the swelling within her boot pressing against the worn leather. Amy gripped the heel and tugged.
“Aahh,” she cried aloud. Fresh tears, too many to hold back, rolled past her lashes and trailed down her cheeks. Her ankle was too swollen to remove her shoe.
Glancing about, Amy looked for a stick she might use to help her walk. She doubted her ankle would support her weight on its own. Nothing. She gazed longingly at the woods behind her, too far away to be of any help.
Drying her tears with the hem of her skirt, she decided she’d better try to walk. Bracing her arms in front on the ground, Amy rolled to her knees. She placed her good leg firmly beneath her and pushed herself up until she could stand- all her weight on the good leg. Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, Amy slowly shifted a portion of her balance to her injured foot.
“Oomph!” Well, that hadn’t worked, she thought, adding sore bottom to her list of injuries. She supposed she would have to wait until the boys noticed she was missing and came out to look for her. As she watched her shadow lengthen across the ground beside her, she couldn’t help but wonder how long that would take.
“Whoa there, Jasper.”
Amy’s eyes slid shut as she was overcome with equal parts embarrassment and relief.
“Amy, darlin’, what are ya doin’ out here so close to dinner time?” Beau Weston, Brand’s best friend and nearest neighbor to the Double C, rode closer on his large bay. Gazing down at her, his laughing brown eyes swiftly turned concerned. “What happened?” He swung down from the saddle to kneel beside her in the grass.
Amy gulped. The pain in her ankle momentarily forgotten, as she drank in the sight of the most handsome man in all of Carson’s Creek. Tall, broad, and owning thick muscles from years of hard work on his family’s spread, the Hanging W- Beau was a sight to behold. And she’d been in love with him forever.
“Amy?”
She blinked. Right. Giving herself a mental shake, Amy gestured to her ankle. “I’ve twisted it.”
His brows pulled into a vee on his forehead. “Your ankle?” He moved closer. “Let me have a look.”
“Oh, no!” Heart pounding at the thought of Beau looking at her leg- let alone touching it- Amy tried to shift away from him. “No, I just,” she gulped again, this time in pure embarrassment, “I just maybe need some help getting home.” Going home seemed the only option since the earth seemed unwilling to suck her into its depths as she hoped it would. What a ninny he must think her! “I-I tried standing on it, but it wouldn’t hold.”
The concern in his eyes deepened and he moved so close she could see the sun glinting off the autumn colored whiskers covering his chin and cheeks. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Let’s try to get this boot off.” He gazed intently at the boot sticking out from beneath the hem of her skirt.
“It’s swelled up inside.”
Nodding his acknowledgement of her statement, Beau gently gripped her heel and gave it a little tug.
Her breath escaped in a hiss, but she was determined not to embarrass herself further by succumbing to tears. Beau stopped tugging. Sitting back on his heels, he regarded her solemnly.
“I think we’re gonna have to cut it off, darlin’.”
“What?!” Amy quickly tucked her leg up under her skirt, out of his reach.
Beau chuckled. “Not your foot. Your boot.” Beau laughed again. The blush already burning her cheeks, threatened to consume her, and she wished once more that the earth would open and swallow her whole.
He gestured for her to bring her foot out from under her hem. “Come on, Amy. I won’t hurt you.”
Beau watched as her slender leg peeked out from beneath her skirt and drew in a slow breath between clenched teeth. She was all of fifteen years old, for goodness sake.
“Hang on, darlin’.”
He needed space. It was a shock after so many months of avoiding her, to come upon her sitting all alone in the middle of the prairie like a gift left there just for him. Rising from the ground, Beau covered the distance between her and Jasper with long strides. He rummaged through his saddlebag and worked to slow his racing pulse.
She was so dang pretty. All that honey blond hair hanging loose from its braid just begged him to sink his hands into it. And her bright blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears- he ached to pull her close. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Not without betraying the agreement he’d made with Brand.
With a sigh, Beau grasped his long hunting knife and
withdrew it from the bag. He would cut off her boot and then take her home- as fast as he could- honor intact. Pasting a smile on his face, Beau knelt beside her once more.
“Shame you aren’t wearing your own shoes. We coulda cut the laces and been done with it.” He made an effort to avoid looking into her cornflower blue eyes, knowing how easily he could get lost in them. “Who’d you get these from?”
“Caleb.”
Beau chuckled knowing he’d been right. Amy had long since given up running around in the boy’s hand-me-down trousers, thank goodness, but he knew she often preferred the comfort of worn out cowboy boots over her own lace-up shoes.
“Well, it’s a downright shame, but your ankle is so swollen there’s no other way to get the thing off.” He paused, wishing there was another way, one that wouldn't cause her more pain. But there wasn't. “You ready?”
Amy nodded, her teeth bit into her bottom lip, tempting Beau more than she knew.
“Alright, here goes.” Beau pulled his errant thoughts away from the sweet girl beside him and focused on the task at hand and performing it with the least amount of pain.
He gently grasped her heel in his hand and carefully slid the tip of his knife into the top of the boot. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her sway, head bobbing.
“Amy!” Beau pulled the knife from her boot and tossed it in the grass beside them. “You’re gonna pass out breathing like that.” He grasped her by her shoulders and she turned her tear-stained face toward his. And just like that, all his resolve was gone. With a defeated sigh, Beau sat down in the grass, pulled her into his arms, and wondered if he was losing his mind. How could he have let this happen?
Loved from Afar Page 11
