Amelia, An Autumn Bride (Brides for All Seasons Book 7)

by Hildie McQueen

  Amelia, An Autumn Bride

  Brides for All Season: Wyoming

  USA Today Bestselling Author Hildie McQueen

  Contents

  Copyright

  Other Works by Hildie McQueen

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  20. Excerpt from Patrick’s Proposal

  About the Author

  Amelia, An Autumn Bride

  Brides for all Seasons: Wyoming

  Editor: Scott Moreland

  Cover Artist: Dar Albert

  Copyright Hildie McQueen 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader.

  If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your retailer and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Created with Vellum

  Other Works by Hildie McQueen

  (In reading order)

  BRIDES FOR ALL SEASONS - MONTANA

  Wilhelmina, A Winter Bride

  Aurora, A Romantic Bride

  Lucille, A Lucky Bride

  Esther, An Easter Bride

  Scarlett, A Summer Bride

  BRIDES FOR ALL SEASONS - WYOMING

  Sarah, A Festive Bride (Novella)

  Christina, A Christmas Bride

  Amelia, An Autumn Bride

  SINGLE TITLES

  Beneath a Silver Sky

  Under a Silver Moon

  Colter Valley

  Patrick’s Proposal (Sensual)

  SHADES OF BLUE SERIES

  Big Sky Blue

  A Different Shade of Blue

  The Darkest Blue

  Every Blue Moon

  Blue Horizon

  Montana Blue

  Midnight Blue

  Montana Blue Christmas

  THE GENTRYS OF MONTANA (Sensual)

  The Rancher

  The Marshal

  The Outlaw

  Chapter 1

  Ranchester, Wyoming 1874

  The sun rose, as did Amelia Fields. Dawn should have been a restful, peaceful time, but it was not. The hours before her aunt and uncle woke were not Amelia’s favorite time.

  There was the fact, however, that this was the time she got much accomplished in order to keep busy. She did not have time to think, ponder or allow her mind to linger on displeasing things.

  Everything had to be just so.

  Amelia assessed the items on the shelf for a moment and then adjusted a small vase to ensure that even spacing remained the same with the other items.

  Out of the corner of her eye, a book sandwiched between two others stood out. It was too tall. She rearranged them so that they were in order by height.

  “There,” Amelia whispered out loud.

  Her hand trembled when she spotted the portrait on the same shelf. This was not the time to think about how much had been lost.

  Everything happened for a reason. That people she loved had been taken from her didn’t matter. What was important was to fill every moment. To keep busy, ensure her days were full and every item she owned be just right and kept safe.

  Her lips curved at catching sight of a cat outside the window. In the garden beside the house, the cat was curled into a ball enjoying the quiet time of day. It could be that one day she, too, could sit in silence without memories and sadness assaulting her.

  How wonderful it would be if the memories would not be so haunting. It could come to be that upon stopping and being quiet, sorrow and guilt would not assail her mind. However, for now, what mattered was each second. To keep moving to ensure things were just right.

  Just right.

  “Good morning,” Amelia said to the cook, Harriett, as the woman arrived at the house.

  The woman carried a huge basket brimming with fresh vegetables and a package of who knew what. In her usual way, she walked in prepared to start the day. The woman was efficient and constantly moving, which often made Amelia wonder how she could maintain such a pace.

  Harriett’s lips curved in a wide smile. “It is a great day.” She motioned to the doorway. “Have you been out there? My goodness, it’s a beautiful morning. I told Milton not to linger in bed. He’d miss the entire morning.”

  Harriett’s husband was the town shoe cobbler. Everyone knew not to go to the shoe shop until late in the morning, as Milton was not one to get up early.

  “Did he get up?” Amelia asked while chuckling.

  “Oh, yes, he did. I pulled the blankets off the bed and brought them with me to wash.”

  The woman hustled to the stove. “I am a bit late. Your aunt and uncle will be down for breakfast any moment.” She lifted a pot cover and sniffed. “I see you’ve already begun cooking.”

  “Yes, I found myself without anything to do, so I am boiling beans for later today. I thought we could add them to the leftover ham.” Amelia loved to cook and often helped Harriett. “I’ve also sliced bacon for breakfast and sliced the bread, so all you have to do is pop it in the oven.”

  Harriett’s mouth fell open. “What time did you get up? At this rate, I’ll be showing up to eat breakfast and not cook it.”

  Not wanting to worry the hard-working woman, Amelia went to the table and sat. “May I have tea please?”

  “No you may not. Not until I get the bacon started and table set.” Harriett picked up a heavy skillet waving it at Amelia. “You need to sleep more.”

  An hour later, her uncle left to go to work at the bank and Amelia remained at the dining table with her aunt, Camilla. Although she itched to help Harriett, it was best to allow the fussy woman to do her job.

  Her aunt studied her for a moment. “It seems strange not to have bible study today. We should plan for it this afternoon here at home. After the fiasco of Robert’s wedding, Pastor Miller hasn’t been as trusting of people using the church when he’s out of town.”

  “If I remember correctly, he said they are building a new small hall for meetings and such,” Amelia offered.

  Outside the window, the wind picked up and the tall, flowering, pink Camellia bush swayed side to side. A few people walked by, probably headed to the mercantile. Amelia liked living in the center of town where she could watch the comings and goings.

  It would be another warm day as summer came to an end. “The orange cat has made its home in the garden. He or she is quite content to sleep in the sun all day,” Amelia told her aunt as she reached to refill their tea. “We should name it.”

  The fact she’d been feeding it and had set up a sheltered area for it to sleep was best kept to herse
lf at the moment.

  “I had a cat when I was a child. It was such a smart animal,” her aunt said, surprising Amelia. “Her name was Sunflower.”

  When her aunt sighed, seeming to be lost in the past, Amelia once again peered out. “I should get started on the weeding. The best time to do so is while the day is young. I may even coax the cat to allow me to pet it.”

  “After you do that, please go to the mercantile and fetch the thread and yarn I ordered. It should be there.” Camilla let out a dramatic sigh. “I do not plan to go outside today. I have so much to do with winter coming up and all.”

  It was useless to point out winter was months away and her aunt had more than enough shawls, hats and mittens already made. They’d have a charity event in a few weeks and warm clothing would be given to the poor in the area.

  “I will ask Harriett to accompany me.”

  “Sorry, dear. You’ll have to go alone. Once I finish here, I have to hurry over to Olive’s house,” Harriett said as she rushed in, picked up the plates and headed back out.

  Camilla’s mouth formed a tight line. “Who all is going to be there, Harriett?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. Probably just me, Eudora and Mrs. Withers,” Harriett continued while walking away.

  “I see.” By her aunt’s snappy response, combined with an indignant huff, Amelia could tell that something was amiss.

  Instead of being pulled into whatever falling out her aunt had that week, Amelia pushed back from the table. “The sooner I finish weeding, the faster I can go run my errands. I’m going to the mercantile and the apothecary. I may go by and visit Sarah while I’m out,” she said, referring to her cousin Robert’s wife. Robert was her aunt and uncle’s only son.

  By the time Amelia left the house, there were more people about. She’d spent longer than expected in the garden since the cat was there to greet her. After weeding, she took her time changing from her soiled dress into another serviceable one. For the most part, she preferred to dress in subdued tones. No use in getting more attention than necessary.

  Likewise, her hair was always parted down the center and pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. For one like her, whose destiny had been predetermined by fate, it was best not to give into illusions or expectancy. There would be no husband, no children and definitely no other place to live than with her aunt and uncle, who’d graciously extended the offer for her to move west.

  Her life would be one of companion and assistance. Once her uncle and his wife, Camilla, grew too old to care for themselves, she’d be there to help them.

  “Excuse me Miss Amelia.” Randy, a young boy, appeared, his freckled face scrunched up as he looked at her. “Ma said to tell you to stop by.” He ran off before she could answer.

  The boy’s mother, Charlene, worked at the apothecary. It was just as well since she did plan to stop by and see about peppermint for whenever her monthly courses came. She’d always suffered from pain during that time and it took strong tea and a hot brick to help her get through it.

  “Good morning, Amelia,” Pearl Sullivan, the mercantile owner’s wife, called out when she walked into the large store. “I was wondering if you or your aunt would be by. I’ve had her yarn for a few days.”

  The interior of the establishment always fascinated Amelia. Every shelf was replete with all kinds of items organized by type and grouped together in a way that made the most sense. The front portion had fresh produce, grains and beans. In the center of the store were household items such as fabrics, notions, pots and items used for everyday life. Toward the back, the Sullivans kept bags of flour and rice. There were also shelves of personal items such as razors, powders, soaps and brushes.

  Sullivan’s Mercantile had a distinct smell, the mixture of spices and perfumed soaps. The air was pleasing and although the interior was not bright, there was plenty enough light to see from the front windows.

  While making small talk with Pearl, Amelia browsed her favorite shelf. The shelf was to the right of the counter.

  A dainty box decorated with realistic-looking flowers caught her attention. “Frivolous,” she whispered. Some pampered woman who received the tiny box as a gift would be thrilled of course. However, in Amelia’s opinion, it was wasteful to spend money on things that had no purpose.

  “Anything else for you, Amelia?” Pearl asked, her eyes moving past her to a man who entered. “Gerard, good morning.”

  “Mornin’, Mrs. Sullivan,” the man replied and went directly toward the back of the store.

  Gerard Cullen was tall, wide shouldered and muscular. He walked with confidence that took people’s attention. With long hair to his shoulders and a thick mustache and beard, it was hard to see what he looked like.

  He weaved through the items displayed, moving with assuredness through the tight spaces.

  Amelia went to the opposite side of the store where the fabrics caught her attention. “You have some wonderful new colors since I was here last.”

  “Ah, yes. Just came in the day before yesterday. I am particularly fond of the blue.” Mrs. Sullivan bustled to the table where she’d displayed the new reams of fabric. “What do you think?” She unfolded some of the fabric and spread it across the others.

  The pale blue was, indeed, beautiful. Amelia couldn’t help but looked toward Gerard Cullen. He had blue eyes, which the fabric would bring out. “It is a very nice color. I will take some.”

  With her purchases finalized, Amelia decided to pay a young boy who stood outside to deliver them to her house. Once the boy rushed off with the parcels, she was free to continue on to the apothecary.

  She turned just as Gerard walked out of the store and they collided. Amelia grabbed his shirt to keep from toppling over and knocked his parcels from his hands, causing them to land around them with thuds.

  For a moment, neither said a word, their gazes colliding in shock. His hands were locked on to her upper arms and her fingers remained grasping his shirt.

  “I apologize,” he said, not releasing her. “I didn’t see you.”

  Finally, common sense kicked in and Amelia released his shirt. She attempted to smooth the wrinkles only to gasp again at the familiarity of touching his chest.

  “Oh goodness.” Amelia pushed away. “It’s quite all right. I wasn’t paying attention myself.”

  It would be best to help him pick up his parcels, Amelia decided as she’d knocked them out of his arms. Unfortunately, he decided to do the same, and they bent at the same time and knocked heads.

  “Ouch,” Amelia exclaimed stumbling backward as he reached for her and once again held her by the upper arms.

  “I--I’m fine. Thank you,” she stuttered and took a step back.

  Hat askew, a frown on his face; he looked about ready to say something not quite nice. He held both hands up signaling for her not to move. “I’ll get my things...thank you.”

  After straightening his hat, he bent to gather his parcels. Gerard Cullen was hard to describe. He was taller than most men. And since he was the town’s blacksmith and used to hard work, his body seemed to be well-toned. His face was mostly hidden, both by long hair and a bushy beard that covered the bottom half. He wore his hat low on his brow, making it even harder to distinguish his features.

  From what she knew about him, he rarely spoke to anyone much less visited.

  Other than the men who came to seek his services, he kept to himself in the house across the street from where Amelia’s cousin, Robert, and his wife, Sarah, lived.

  “Have a good day, Mr. Cullen,” Amelia said as she rounded Gerard and she headed toward the apothecary. It was best to get away from him before she caused him to run in front of a wagon or something. When he walked behind for a few yards, she finally turned. “Are you going to the apothecary as well?”

  “Yes,” he replied and went to where his horse was tethered next to them. He began to stuff his packages into the saddlebags.

  Unsure of what to do, Amelia hurried away. Hopefully, she cou
ld grab her peppermint and be out before he got there.

  The first noticeable thing when walking into the apothecary was the strong aroma of different herbs. Chamomile mixed in the air with lavender and other herbs and medicinal powders and plants. Jars of different colors lined shelves, each filled with different items. The sunlight through the two large front windows reflected off the jars bringing a magical appeal and there was the tinkling of small bells that the owner hung in front of the door adding to the atmosphere.

  “Good morning, Amelia,” Charlene Parker, the pretty shopkeeper called out. Her bright smile was always welcoming.

  “Randy stopped me and delivered your message,” Amelia told her. “He is growing up so fast.”

  Charlene beamed with pride. “For now, he’s still an obedient little boy. I know in a few years, I’ll have to beat him over the head to do as he’s told.” She pointed to a large jar. “Just got fresh peppermint.”

  When the bell over the door jingled, Amelia let out a breath. Her stomach flipped which she didn’t quite understand. Why would her body react to a man she barely knew?

  “Your wagon wheel is fixed, Mrs. Parker. I brought it around the back,” Gerard Cullen informed Charlene without greeting.

  Seeming unfazed, Charlene smiled as she pulled open a drawer. “Thank you, I appreciate it. How much do I owe you?”

  A couple years earlier, Charlene’s husband had fallen off a horse and broken his back. The man did what he could and helped with packaging herbs and such, but it was a well-known fact that the financial loss of his work had taken on toll on the Parkers’ income.

  There was a silence that stretched and, finally, Amelia turned at the sound of the bells sounding. Gerard was gone.

  “He’s such a good man,” Charlene said with a sniffle. “Always refuses to charge us for things.”