Supper that evening was a surprisingly pleasant fare of roasted chicken, sage dressing, a veritable banquet of vegetables—mostly canned, but very tasty, and peach cobbler. Amelia had to admit it was more than she’d expected and only the thick swarm of hovering black flies kept her from completely enjoying her evening. That and Logan Reed’s rude appraisal of her throughout the meal. He seemed to watch her as though she might steal the silver at any given moment. Amelia grew increasingly uncomfortable under his scrutiny until she actually found herself listening to Sir Jeffery’s soliloquy on the founding of the London Medical School for Women and the obsurdity of anyone believing women would make acceptable physicians.
“Why the very thought of exposing the gentler sex to such grotesqueries is quite abominable,” Jeffery stated as though that would be the collective reasoning of the entire party.
Normally Amelia would have commented loud and clear on such outdated thoughts, but with Logan apparently anticipating such a scene, she chose instead to finish her meal and quietly excuse herself. This was accomplished without much ado, mainly because Lady Gambett opened the matter and excused herself first, pleading an intolerable headache.
Amelia soon followed suit and very nearly spilled over a water glass when she got to her feet. Her hands were shaking as she righted the glass. Looking up, she found Logan smiling. She had to get away from him quickly or make a complete fool of herself, of this she was certain.
Unfortunately, she was barely out the front door when Jeffery popped up at her side.
“Ah, Sir Jeffery,” she said stiffly.
“Good evening, Lady Amhurst,” he said, pausing with a smile, “Amelia.”
She stiffened even more. Eyeing him with complete contempt, she said nothing. There was no need. She’d often heard it said that with a single look she could freeze the heart right out of a man and Jeffery Chamberlain was certainly no match for her.
“Forgive me, Lady Amhurst,” he said bowing low before her. “I sought only to escort you to wherever it is you might be going. The familiarity is born only out of my fondness for you and your good father’s desire thatwe wed.”
Amelia nodded. “You may be assured that those desires reside with my father alone. Good evening.” She hurried away before Jeffery could respond. She hadn’t the strength to discuss the matter further.
The evening had grown quite chilly and Amelia was instantly sorry she’d not stopped to retrieve a shawl. She was grateful for the short-waisted jacket she’d donned for dinner and quickly did up the remaining two buttons to insure as much warmth as possible. After two blocks, however, she was more than happy to head back to the hotel and remain within its thinwalls until morning sent them ever upward.
Upward.
She glanced to the now-blacked images of the mountain range before her. The shadows seemed foreboding, as if some great hulking monster waited to devour her. Shuddering from the thought, she walked back to the St. Vrain Hotel and considered it no more.
Chapter 4
It was the wind that woke Amelia in the morning. The great wailing gusts bore down from the mountains causing the very timbers around her to shake and tremble. Was it a storm? She contemplated this for a moment, hoping that if it were, it would rain and drown out each and every pesky fly in Longmont. All through the night, her sleep had been disturbed by the constant assault of flies at her face, in her hair, and at her ears. It was enough to make her consider agreeing to marry Jeffery if her father would pledge to return immediately to England.
A light rapping sounded upon her door. Amelia pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders and went to answer it.
“Yes?” she called, stumbling in the dark.
“It’s me, Emma.”
Amelia opened the door with a sleepy nod. “Are we about to blow away?”
Emma laughed softly and pushed past Amelia to light the lamp on her night table. “Oh, no, ma’am. The wind blows like this from time to time. It’ll probably be done by breakfast. Mr. Reed sent me to wake you and the other ladies. Said to tell you it was an hour before dawn and you’d know exactly what that meant.”
Amelia frowned. “Yes, indeed. Thank you, Emma.”
“Will you be needin’ help with your hair and getting dressed?”
“No, thank you anyway. Mr. Reed made it quite clear that simplicity is the means for success on this excursion. I intend only to braid my hair and pin it tight. From the sound of the wind, I suppose I should pin it very tight.” Emma giggled and Amelia smiled in spite of herself. Perhaps some of these Americans aren’t so bad.
“Lady Gambett was near to tears last night because Logan told her that she and those youngun’s of hers needed to get rid of their corsets before they rode another ten feet.”
It was Amelia’s turn to giggle. Something she’d not done in years. “Surely you jest.”
“Jest?” Emma looked puzzled.
“Joke. I merely implied that you were surely joking.”
“Oh, no! He said it. I heard him.”
“Well, I’ve never been one to abide gossip,” Amelia began rather soberly, “but I can well imagine the look in Lady Gambett’s face when he mentioned the unmentionable items.”
“She plumb turned red and called for her smelling salts.”
“Yes, she would.”
Glancing to where Penelope and Margaret continued to slumber soundly, Emma questioned, “Will you need me to wake your sisters?”
Amelia glanced at the bed. “No, it would take more than your light touch. I’ll see to them.” Emma smiled and took her leave.
“Wake up sleepyheads,” Amelia said, pulling the quilt to the foot of the bed. Penelope shrieked a protest and pulled it back up, while Margaret stared up in disbelief.
“I believe you’re becoming as ill-mannered as these Americans,” she said to Amelia.
“It’s still dark outside,” Penelope added, snuggling down. “Mr. Reed said we start at dawn.”
“Mr. Reed said we leave at dawn,” she reminded them. “I for one intend to have enough time to dress properly and eat before climbing back on that ill-tempered horse.”
Margaret whined. “We are too tired to bother with eating. Just go away, Amelia.”
“Have it your way,” Amelia said with a shrug. And with that she left her sisters to worry about themselves, and hurried to dress for the day. Pulling on black cotton stockings, pantaloons and camisole, Amelia smiled privately, knowing that she was quite glad for the excuse to be rid of her corset. She packed the corset away, all the while feeling quite smug. She wasn’t about to give Logan Reed a chance to speak so forwardly to her about things that didn’t concern him. Pulling on her riding outfit, now clean and pressed, she secured her toiletries in her saddlebags and hurried to meet the others at breakfast.
Much to her embarrassment she arrived to find herself alone with Logan. The rest of her party was slow to rise and even slower to ready themselvesfor the day ahead. Logan nodded approvingly at her and called for the meal to be served. He bowed ever so slightly and held out a chair for Amelia.
“We must wait for the others, Mr. Reed,” she said, taking the offered seat.
“I’m afraid we can’t,” Logan announced. “You forget I’m experienced at this. Most folks refuse to take me seriously until they miss at least one breakfast. Ahhh, here’s Emma.” The young girl entered bringing a mound of biscuits—complete with hovering flies—and a platter of fried sausages swimming in grease and heavily peppered. It was only after taking one of the offered links that Amelia realized it wasn’t pepper at all, but still more flies.
Frowning at the food on her plate, it was as if Logan read her mind when he said, “Just try to think of ’em as extra meat.”
Amelia almost smiled, but refused to. “Maybe I’ll just eat a biscuit.”
“You’d best eat up and eat well. The mountain air will make you feel starved and after all the hard work you’ll be doing, you’ll wish you’d had more than biscuits.”
“Hard work?”
Logan waited to speak until Emma brought two more platters, one with eggs, another with fried potatoes, and a bowl with thick white gravy. He thanked the girl and turned to Amelia. “Shall we say grace?”
“I hardly think so, Mr. Reed. To whom should we offer thanks, except to those whose hands have provided and prepared the food?”
For the first time since she’d met the smug, self-confident Logan Reed, he stared at her speechless and dumbstruck. Good, she thought. Let him consider that matter for a time and leave me to eat in silence. She put eggs on her plate and added a heavy amount of cream to the horrible black coffee Emma had poured into her cup. She longed to plead with the girl for tea, but wouldn’t think of allowing Mr. Reed to see her in a weakened moment.
“Do you mean to tell me,” Logan began, “that you don’t believe in God?”
Amelia didn’t even look up. “Indeed, that is precisely what I meanto say.”
“How can a person who seems to be of at least average intelligence,” at this Amelia’s head snapped up and Logan chuckled and continued, “I thought that might get your attention. How can you look around you or wake up in the morning to breathe the air of a new day and believe there is no God?”
Amelia scowled at the black flies hovering around her fork. “Should there have been a God, surely He would not have allowed such imperfect creatures to mar His universe.”
“You don’t believe in God because flies are sharing your breakfast table?” Logan’s expression was one of complete confusion. He hadn’t even started to eat his own food.
“Mr. Reed, I believe this trip will go a great deal better for both of us if you will merely mind your own business and leave me to do the same. I fail to see where my disbelief in a supreme being is of any concern to you, and therefore, I see no reason to discuss the matter further.”
Logan hesitated for a moment, bowed his head to what Amelia presumed were his prayers of grace, and ate in silence for several minutes. For some reason, even though it was exactly what Amelia had hoped for, she felt uncomfortable and found herself wishing he would say something even if it was to insult her.
When he continued in silence, she played at eating the breakfast. She’d hoped the wind would send the flies further down the prairie, but it only seemed to have driven them indoors for shelter. As the gales died down outside, she could only hope they’d seek new territory.
“I guess I see it as my business to concern myself with the eternal souls of mankind,” Logan said without warning. “See the Bible, that’s the word of God. . .”
“I know what the Bible is perceived to be, Mr. Reed. I wasn’t born without a brain, simply without the need for an all-interfering, all-powerful being.”
Logan seemed to shake this off before continuing. His green eyes seemed to darken. “The Bible says we are to concern ourselves with our fellow man and spread the good news.”
She put her fork down and matched his look of determination. “And pray tell, Mr. Reed, what would that good news be? Spread it quickly and leave me to my meal.” Amelia knew she was being unreasonably harsh, but she tired of religious rhetoric and nonsensical sermons. She’d long given up the farce of accompanying her sisters and father to church, knowing that they no more held the idea of worshipping as a holy matter than did she.
“The good news is that folks like you and I don’t have to burn in the pits of hell for all eternity, because Jesus Christ, God’s only son, came to live and die for our sins. He rose again, to show that death cannot hold the Christian from eternal life.”
Amelia picked up her thick white mug and sipped the steaming contents. The coffee scalded her all the way down, but she’d just as soon admit to the pain as to admit Logan’s words were having any affect on her whatsoever. The pits of hell, indeed, she thought.
She tried to compose herself before picking the fork up again. “I believe religion to be man’s way of comforting himself in the face of death. Mankind can simply not bear to imagine that there is only so much time allotted to each person so mankind has created religion to support the idea of there being something more. The Hindu believe we are reincarnated. Incarnate is from the Latin incarnates, meaning made flesh. So they believe much as you Christians do that they will rise up to live a gain.”
“I know what reincarnation means, and I am even familiar with the Hindu religion. But you’re completely wrong when you say they believe as Christians do. They don’t hold faith in what Jesus did to save us. They don’t believe in the need for salvation through Him in order to have that eternal life.”
Amelia shrugged. “To each religion and culture comes a theory that will comfort them the most. In light of that, Mr. Reed, and considering the hundreds of different religions in the world, even the varied philosophies within your own Christian faith, how can you possibly ascertain that you and you alone have the one true faith?”
“Are you saying that there is no need for faith and that there is no such thing as God?” Logan countered.
“I am a woman of intellect and reason, Mr. Reed. Intellectually and reasonably, I assure you that faith and religion have no physical basis for belief.”
“Faith in God is just that, Lady Amhurst. Faith.” Logan slammed down his coffee mug. “I am a man of intellect and reason, but it only makes it that much clearer to me that there is a need for God and something more than the contrivances of mankind.”
Amelia looked at him for a moment. Yes, I could believe this barbaric American might have some understanding of books and philosophies. But he is still of that mindset that uses religion as a crutch to ease his conscience and concerns. Before Amelia could comment further, Logan got to his feet and stuffed two more biscuits into the pocket of his brown flannel shirt. Amelia appraised him silently as he thanked Emma for a great meal and pulled on his drifters coat.
“We leave in ten minutes. I’ll bring the horses around to the front.” He stalked out of the room like a man with a great deal on his mind, leaving Amelia feeling as though she’d had a bit of a comeuppance, but for the life of her she couldn’t quite figure out just how he’d done it.
Emma cleared Logan’s plate and mug from the table and returned to find Amelia staring silently at the void left by their guide.
“I hate to be a busybody, Lady Amhurst,” Emma began, “but your family ain’t a bit concerned about Mr. Reed’s timetable and I can tell you from experience, Logan won’t wait.”
This brought Amelia’s attention instantly. “I’ll tend to them. Are there more of these biscuits?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Please pack whatever of this breakfast you can for us and we’ll take it along. As I recall, Mr. Reed said there would be a good six miles of prairie to cross to the canyon.”
“I can wrap the biscuits and sausage into a cloth, but the rest of this won’t pack very good.”
Amelia blotted her lips with a coarse napkin and got to her feet. “Do what you can, Emma, and I’ll retrieve my wayward family.”
Ten minutes later, Amelia had managed to see her family to the front of the hotel. Penelope and Margaret were whining, still struggling to do something with their hair. Upon Amelia’s threat to shear them both, they grew instantly silent. Lady Gambett cried softly into a lace-edged handkerchief and bemoaned the fact that her nerves would never stand the jostling on horseback. Her daughters were awkward and consciously concerned about their lack of corseting, and Amelia had to laugh when she overheard Margaret tell Josephine that Mr. Reed was no doubt some kindof devious man who would do them all in once they were far enough away from the protection of town. A part of Amelia was beginning to understand Logan Reed’s misgivings about her people.
Logan repacked the mules with the baggage and items brought to him by the party, but Amelia noticed he was unusually tight-lipped. Light was just streaking the eastern skies when he hauled up onto the back of his horse and instructed them to do the same.
Amel
ia allowed Jeffery to help her onto her horse and winced noticeably when the softer parts of her body protested from the abuse she’d inflicted the day before. She said nothing, noting Logan’s smirk of recognition, but her sisters and the Gambetts were well into moans and protests of discomfort. Logan ignored them all, however, and urged his horse and the mules forward.
It wasn’t yet ten o’clock when Logan first heard Amelia’s sisters suggesting they stop. He couldn’t help but cast a smug look of satisfaction toward Amelia when Penelope suggested they should imbibe in a time of tea and cakes.
He watched Amelia’s face grow flush with embarrassment, but she said nothing, choosing instead to let her mount lag behind the others until she was nearly bringing up the rear of the party. Chuckling to himself, Logan led them on another two hours before finally drawing his horse to a stop.
Dismounting, he called over his shoulder, “We’ll take lunch here.”
It was as if the entire party sighed in unison.
Logan quickly set up everything they would need. He drew cold water from the mountain river that they’d followed through the canyon, then dug around in the saddle-bags to produce jerked beef and additional biscuits.
“You surely don’t mean this to be our luncheon fare,” Jeffery Chamberlain complained in complete disgust.
The earl looked down his nose at the pitiful offering. “Yes, Mr. Reed, surely there is something better than this.”
Logan pushed his hat back on his head. “We’ll have a hot meal for dinner this evening. If we’re to push ahead and reach our first camping point before dark, we’ll only have time to rest here about ten, maybe fifteen minutes. It’ll give the horses a well-deserved break and allow them to water up. The higher we go the more water you’ll need to drink. Remember that and you won’t find yourself succumbing to sorche.”
“I beg your pardon?” Lord Amhurst questioned.
“Mountain sickness,” Reed stated flatly. “The air is much thinner up here, but since you’ve traipsed all over the Alps, you should already know all about that. You need to take it slower and allow yourselves time to get used to the altitude. Otherwise, you’ll be losing what little lunch you get and dealing with eye-splitting headaches that won’t let you go for weeks. It’s one more reason I insisted the ladies dismiss the idea of corsets.” Shudders and gasps of indignant shock echoed from the now-gathered Gambett and Amhurst women. With the exception of Amelia. She stood to one side admiring a collection of wildflowers, but Logan knew she was listening by the amused expression on her face.
Logan's Lady Page 4
