by Tia Siren
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she admonished him, adding as she walked forward with purposeful steps and retrieved the fallen hoe, “We have work to do.”
Soon the pair stood side by side at the center of the rose patch, tending Thomas’ prized crop as he continued to steal cautious looks in Amy’s direction.
“Are you sure you feel like working the fields, Ma’am?” he asked her, inclining his head in her direction as he tended his own corner of the patch. “Wouldn’t you rather head back to the ranch house?”
Tossing aside her hoe with a frustrated sigh, Amy planted her hands on her hips and stared her concerned host straight in the eyes.
“We see here before us a garden filled with flowers,” she told him, making a broad flourish across the land before him as she added with eyebrows arched, “I am not one of them. I’m a strong and sturdy farmwoman, Thomas. I actually like to work. You don’t need to worry about overworking me, as I shall always let you know when and if I need a rest.” She paused here, adding with a slight smile in his direction, “You also don’t need to worry about kissing me either. I like to kiss as well—especially when the individual doing the kissing just happens to be you.”
Thomas exhaled, gracing her with a boyish grin as he considered these words.
“I’m so relieved to hear those words, Amy,” he revealed, adding as he retrieved his hoe and offered her another that lay at the corner of the garden, “And believe me, I’m well aware that you’re not a shrinking violet. You are a woman strong in your convictions,” he paused here, adding as he regarded her with inquiring eyes, “And according to what you said yesterday, you are darned and determined to love only one man for the remainder of your days.”
Amy bit her lip.
“Well Thomas, until the moment we met, I didn’t rightly think that I could love anyone else,” she revealed, adding as she shuffled her feet beneath her, “At one point, though, I may have said the same thing about Vance. I was always independent as a gal, and I had no earthly designs on life as a wife and mother.”
Thomas nodded.
“So what did catch your interest?” he asked her, listening intent as the two set to work at the center of their field.
Amy shrugged.
“I always earned pretty high marks back at the old school house, so I figured I might make a good school marm,” she revealed, adding in a lower tone, “But then Vance swept into my life, just like a Texas tornado. Between romance and marriage and babies, I do believe I kind of forgot who I was. My husband became my world—and until yesterday, I think I just kind of lost myself.” She paused here, adding as she raised a finger for emphasis, “Now don’t be misunderstanding. I did adore my husband….”
“…but he’s gone,” Thomas completed, saying the words he knew she couldn’t. “And you, a young, talented and beautiful woman, remain.”
Setting aside his hoe, Thomas turned in full to face her as he fixed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“You’re still alive, Amy, and you have your whole life ahead of you,” he reminded her, adding as he massaged his agile fingers into the muscles of her slight, work-weary shoulder. “And I’d honored if you chose to spend even a small part of that life with me.”
Covering his hand with hers, Amy graced him with a beneficent smile as she affirmed, “I would like to, Thomas.” She paused here, adding as she rested her hand on her bulging stomach, “First, though, I have to get this baby birthed. This little one has to be my first priority.”
Thomas grinned.
“And once you do, my darling, I would love to court you properly,” he proposed, leaning forward as he graced her cheek with whisper soft lips.
Letting loose with an uncharacteristic giggle, Amy wrapped her arms tight around Thomas’ muscular shoulders and leaned for just a moment against his tall, sculpted frame; relishing the feeling as he drew her body to his in a warm, loving hug.
“It might be a mite difficult to take me about in my current condition and convince folks that you’re courting me proper,” she observed, adding as she graced her host with a nudge of gentle affection, “They might believe that you and I were up to an entirely different brand of reapin’ and sowin, if you catch my meaning.”
Thomas’ eyes flew wide as he considered these suggestive words. Then he started laughing. Hard.
“You’re one of a kind, Amy,” he praised her, gracing her with an affirming squeeze and a warm kiss on the forehead. “And I do mean that in the best possible way.”
Amy let loose with a rain of tinkling laughter that flew free on the breezes above them.
“Why thank you kindly, Thomas,” she returned, adding as she glanced sideways in his direction, “I think.”
The couple continued on much in this light, animated fashion for the next few weeks; working side by side amongst their beloved roses by day and retiring to their comfortable ranch house in the evening.
Amy marveled at the way that Thomas insisted on preparing every meal by her side; and she simply had to admit that, though she’d never breathe a word of this notion to him, Thomas’ culinary skills exceeded her own.
“What is the meaning of this?” she asked him one day, talking between bites of a succulent Texas steak that he had prepared for their dinner. “My dear departed husband, God rest his soul, nary knew the difference between a ladle and a lentil.”
Thomas laughed.
“I do love your way with words,” he praised her.
More than willing to share her own gift—one that involved a love of reading, teaching, and learning—Amy read to Thomas each night by the fire, reciting classics such as Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” to “Les Miserables” by Victor Hugo and explaining their deeper meanings and contexts to a fascinated Thomas.
“I cannot thank you enough, Ma’am, for introducing me to all of these wonderful books,” he told her one evening, clutching her hands between them one night before a raging fire, “Oh I did my share of reading in school, to be sure, and Ma read me her poetry; but we never did peruse the classics. And I love the way that you interpret each story, coming up with so many bright ideas about each and every one of them.” He paused here, adding as he leaned forward to erase all distance between them, “You’re a whole new world, my lovely—one I long to explore.”
Amy froze, setting her beloved copy of “Pride and Prejudice” aside as she discovered a gentleman even more handsome and captivating than her beloved Mr. Darcy—and, she had to admit, far warmer and kinder.
“And did I mention more handsome?” she mused now, admiring the way that Thomas’ carved, bronzed face shone radiant in the light of the fire—along with the long silken mane of golden hair that likened him to an angel.
With very good reason, she figured.
She did not resist as he covered her lips with his, his full soft lips massaging hers in the sweetest of kisses.
For a moment the couple lingered close, their lips smacking together as their arms clasped between them and he drew her closer to him.
Sinking contented in his big strong arms, Amy relaxed and succumbed to the feeling of being loved and cared for; their bodies writhing together as his hands ran like warm water down the length of her work-weary back, coaxing and massaging as she allowed herself the luxury of truly being loved.
“Heaven help me, Amy, but I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered against her lips, adding as he cradled her to him, “Suddenly I don’t remember much of what my life was like before you came along.”
Amy froze, pursing her lips as she struggled to conjure an image of the man who had given her the child now growing in her belly.
Then, after summoning only a fading, scratchy image of her late husband, she excused herself and retired to bed.
*****
He hated himself.
Again.
Standing once again at the center of his prized rose bed, Thomas paused in his morning duties to once again reflect on a romantic evening gone awry.
“I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loves me too. I can see it in her eyes, I can feel it in her kiss,” he mused, adding with a sigh of deep frustration, “I can give her everything that my world has to offer: the love of a good man who—in her eyes, at least, I ain’t no judge—is passing good looking as well. A beautiful home. Good food and roses.” He paused here, adding as he kicked some errant dirt beneath his feet, “Even so, every moment I’m with her, I’m competing with a ghost. I can’t be her first husband.”
He fell silent then as he felt her behind him; her presence haunting him as always as the wild Texas winds blew fierce around them.
Turning slowly to face a (for once) silent Amy, he spread his arms between them as he declared, “Amy, I swear I had no intentions of hurting you last night, or of being too forward. As I have told you, you are never required to do anything with me that you are not prepared to do.” He paused here, adding as he lifted his chin to proud effect, “I do need to know, however, just where I stand with you Darlin’. Are we business pardners here at the ranch? Are we the best of friends?”
With these words, he stared deep into her eyes, which at this point reflected no discernable emotion; making no move to walk closer to her, even as his heart reached out to her.
“Are we in love?” he entreated her, voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me true, Amy.”
In lieu of offering Thomas a verbal reply, Amy ran forward into his arms; letting loose with a deep, heartfelt sob as she sank resigned in his encompassing embrace.
“Yes,” she released on a belabored breath, clutching her new lover closer than close.
Even as he cradled his beloved with strong, loving arms, Thomas shook his head in a show of blatant confusion as he considered her cryptic answer.
“Yes,” Amy repeated, adding as she drew back to grace him with a soft beneficent smile, “Yes, we are ‘pardners’—the roses that we grow are beyond beautiful, and I love this land just as much as my own. Yes, we are friends—you understand me in a way that no one ever has, not even my husband. You perceive me as smart and funny, not just pretty. You actually listen to me when I speak, and you encourage me to share what I know and teach you things. Most men, they cannot be taught.”
With these words she seized his sumptuous lips in a passionate kiss; conveying her love in an affectionate gesture that he returned with the greatest love.
“And yes, I do love you,” she declared in a whisper, adding as she took his chiseled face in her loving hands and memorized every flawless feature with the gentle stroke of her fingertips, “More than I can say, Thomas. And I promise never again to run from you. Never, my darling.”
She took in her breath as a besotted Thomas fell to his knees before her, clutching her hands in his as he bent low to kiss her slippered feet.
“I love you,” he returned on a sob, adding as he stared up at her with adoring eyes, “And I promise never to leave you. Never, my darling.”
With great reluctance, the couple pulled away from one another and returned to their work; pausing throughout the day to steal kisses, share jokes and secret smiles, and clasp hands even as they tended the roses that both so adored.
Taking things a step further, Thomas gathered a rich assortment of fresh golden blooms, radiant as they shone in the light of a bright Texas sun, and gathered them in the form of an ebullient bouquet; holding the luminous arrangement behind his back as he approached her with a teasing smile.
“I have a surprise for you, my lady,” he told her, adding as his hand sprang forth with his ebullient nature made gift, “Although their beauty does not rival your own, I do hope that you’ll still accept and enjoy them.”
Staring at the bouquet with wide eyes, Amy let loose with a sharp gasp as her gaze focused on its fresh golden beauty.
“So I take it you like the bouquet?” Thomas asked with a chuckle. “I sure am glad, Darlin’.”
His eyebrows shot upward as she took the flowers from his offering hand, clutching their stems with unseeming tightness as she let loose with a low sharp moan.
“So it seems you REALLY like the bouquet,” her suitor observed, adding as he cocked his head in what seemed a show of keen curiosity, “Its beauty, in fact, seems to have stunned and left you speechless beyond the point of reason.”
Doubling over with a loud, sharp shriek, Amy gasped as she kept a fierce hold on the erstwhile stems of her rich rose gift.
“Now Amy,” Thomas observed, softening his next words with a gentle smile, “You don’t have to exaggerate your enthusiasm for my benefit—the roses are hardly culled from real gold, you know….”
“Could you shut your dang smooth talkin’ mouth for 10 seconds or so? I’m in pain here!” Amy bellowed, adding as she dropped her flowers sharp to her side and grabbed her bulging stomach with clutching hands. “The baby is coming! Now, if not sooner!”
Gasping outright, Thomas rushed forward to scoop his wailing lady up in two sheltering arms and run for the house with feverish steps; not stopping until he had lain her trembling body in the sheets of her whisper soft bed.
“I’m going to run into town and get Doc Adams, the man that birthed me and has taken care of our family for years,” he told her, identifying the kindly silver-haired physician who had brought him into the world as well as helped to ease his parents’ transition out of it. “Don’t move from that spot, Amy!”
Rolling her eyes heavenward, his irritable patient pitched her head backward and let loose with a howl that betrayed her pain.
“Rest assured I won’t,” she promised him, adding as she shook her head from side to side, “I mean, where would I go exactly?”
Thomas thought a moment, then nodded.
“Right, good point,” he answered, adding as he raced for the staircase, “I love you!”
*****
In all of his years practicing medicine, Dr. Calvin Adams never had seen a patient in greater distress; one whose obvious degrees of pain and exhaustion were painful to regard.
“Are you sure you don’t want to lay down a while?” he asked, squeezing the hand of the stricken soul who now kneeled motionless beside a convenient bed.
Jumping to his feet with a sharp grunt of protest, an indignant Thomas Wyatt balled his fists at his sides as he considered these patronizing words.
“I’m absolutely fine, thank you very much,” he informed his concerned physician, adding as he made a broad gesture in the direction of the bed before them, “And, for that matter, so are Amy and Amelia.”
Letting loose with a mighty shriek that would do her mother proud, the blue-eyed, porcelain skinned baby Amelia jumped into the sheltering arms of her mother, who opened her eyes to regard her beloved with a sweet, gracious smile.
“This isn’t even your baby,” she reminded him, adding as she reached forward to take his hand in hers, “Yet you stayed here by my side as we brought her into the world together,” she paused here, adding as her eyes widened in what seemed a show of sheer wonder, “And you didn’t even pass out cold!”
Thomas laughed, bringing her hand to his soft lips for a warm affirming kiss.
“As far as I’m concerned, Ma’am, you both belong to me now,” he told her, adding as she met these words with arched eyebrows and a side-eyed glance, “While still remaining strong individual types, of course. And, furthermore, I belong to the two of you as well. Although I never shall venture to replace your daughter’s father, in your memory or her heart, I aim to be the very best father and companion that I can be for our odd little family here.”
Amy frowned.
“Father and…companion?” she repeated, adding as those feathered eyebrows shot up to an all-time high, “Could you perhaps think of a better word to define your relations with me, Cowboy?”
Thomas pursed his lips, getting the sinking feeling he’d just said something wrong—and how.
“Pardner?” he suggested.
Amy shook her head.
“Nope,” she insisted, pursing he
r own pearl pink lips in a show of distaste as Thomas shuffled his feet beneath him. “Try again.”
Thomas paused, keen awareness dawning in his eyes as—fully and finally—he caught the lady’s meaning.
“Husband?” he suggested. “Could this be the word you mean?” he paused, here, adding as his azure eyes flew wide with the dawning of awareness, “You mean you’re finally ready to become my bride?”
Without awaiting Amy’s reply, an elated Thomas turned to the doctor who in all likelihood just birthed the first of many babies in this house and told him, “Hear that, Doc? You’re my witness. This fine lady here just said she’d marry me.”
Then without hesitation, the groom to be dropped to his knees beside the bed. And this time, the doc noticed as he gathered a gurgling baby Amelia in his arms, Thomas looked once again like he just might faint as he took Amy’s hands in his.
“Miss Amy,” he declared, adding as he stared deep into her eyes, “I love you so true, more than life itself. Would you do me the honor of being my bride?”
Amy smiled.
“Thought you’d never ask,” she cooed with a playful wink, adding in a softer, sincerer tone, “I would be honored, Thomas, to be your bride.”
Surging forward across the bed, the couple’s lips collided in an impassioned kiss; one whose ardent tenderness seemed binding in nature. Thomas seized Amy’s mouth with the fondest ardor, his full soft lips massaging hers as they murmured with contentment.
For just a moment Amy felt their surroundings dissolve around them; leaning hard into Thomas’ kiss as they drew closer together.
Then suddenly she remembered that they were not alone. Eyes flying open in a single smooth flourish, she broke their kiss as she pointed a not so subtle finger in the direction of their family doctor.
“Sorry,” the couple mumbled in synch, averting their gazes to the physician who now shaded Amelia’s eyes as he let loose with an affectionate chuckle.
“You certainly do have two insane parents,” he informed a gurgling Amelia, adding with a wink, “And I do believe that I’ve never met a more fortunate child.”
