Chapter 17
Elliott Weston blew out a breath before walking into the hotel lobby. A group had gathered and asked him to come and discuss what the plans were for the brothel.
Thankfully, before he could enter, Judge Withers walked up to him. “Seems this bunch won’t give up until we do something,” the older man said, looking up at the sky. “How about you let me handle this and you go up there to speak to the brothel owner. Maybe if the girls stay away for a bit, it would help settle things down.”
“We can’t forbid them from coming into town,” Elliott said in a lowered voice. “I can ask that they not come as often or limit it to one or two.”
Judge Withers smiled. “Good, then I will tell the group here that the girls will not be parading through town and we are in talks to discuss their future plans.” He made a shooing motion with both hands. “Go on now, see about that.”
Not in a hurry to arrive at the brothel, Elliott took his time walking. He even stopped to talk to young Randy who played in front of the apothecary with marbles.
When he turned the corner, Clara, the madam, came to an abrupt halt or they would have collided. Her wide, gray eyes met his for a moment before she looked away. “Sheriff.”
“I was just on my way to see you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Can I have a word with you, Miss Buchanan?”
Clara lifted her chin just enough to let him know she’d not stand for anything from him that was not to her liking. “Yes, of course.”
It made him want to smile, but he maintained a stern expression. “Walk with me please.”
His request seemed to unsettle her, but she nodded and allowed him to take her elbow and guide her down the side street and away from the center of town.
“Judge Withers is at the hotel. A group of people who have been gathering to ask for the removal of the brothel are there. He asked that I speak to you or the proprietor.”
“Baron is gone on business. He won’t be returning for several weeks.”
“I see,” he said, not quite sure why the man would have arrived to open a brothel and then promptly left. “What does he plan for you to do while he’s gone?”
Her brows came together. “Open for business. We have all we need. I’ve just been waiting for word on a couple of...things.”
“Do you have someone that can come to town for any items you and the other ladies may need? It seems your presence upsets the local townspeople enough without...”
“Without actually seeing us.” She let out a breath and stopped walking. “I see. I could send the housekeeper’s daughter to do our bidding.”
“I’m sorry. You are not surprised are you?” He felt bad for her and the other women. However, they’d chosen their profession willingly.
When she whirled around and began walking back toward the hill, he caught up with her. “Miss Buchanan...”
“Don’t say another word. You’re right. I should have expected it. I should be used to it.” There was a hitch in her voice that surprised him.
He took her arm. “Miss Buchanan, it’s just the way things are. No matter how much we try to tell people you mean no harm to them, they are not comfortable with how it will impact the town.”
It was shocking to see a tear escape from the corner of her eye. Elliott was struck silent. He’d never done well with crying women, but to see the beautiful, proud woman shed a tear undid him.
“Don’t cry. Let me walk you home.”
“That is not necessary. I am not crying.” Her sniff told him that she was. Squaring her shoulders, she took a step back. “Now, if you will excuse me, I will return home.”
He stood perfectly still watching her walk away. Her shoulders back, she held herself like royalty. Clara Buchanan’s skirts swung side-to-side. The gentle sway was as mesmerizing as the woman. He’d never seen a woman so beautiful and, since first seeing her, he often wondered how she came to end up in a brothel.
Not thinking, Elliott ran to catch up with her. “I insist on walking you home.”
“And I insist you leave me be.”
“Why?”
“Because you wouldn’t want to be seen with the likes of me.”
“Do you worry about my reputation, Miss Buchanan?”
She gave him a sharp look. “Should I?”
“Not in the least.” He continued walking beside her.
Other than a second look, she didn’t ask him to leave.
“You know, Miss Buchanan, I don’t agree with the group of them about your girls coming to town to get necessities.”
She nodded. “But you don't agree with the establishment.”
“No, I don’t. I think it will mean more work for me. Women shouldn’t be resorting to that kind of work.”
“And how, Sheriff Weston, do you propose we make a living when left alone or forced to support ourselves out here in the west?”
He’d not argue with her. In his opinion there was plenty someone could do. Then again, he wasn’t a woman. Things would be harder for a defenseless woman. “You’re right. I don’t know.”
They continued up the hill in silence until she stopped and faced him. “Sheriff.”
Taking her cue, Elliott touched the brim of his hat. “Have a good day, Miss Buchanan.”
“I don’t think we will speak again,” she said almost absently.
“I believe we will.” He looked toward the large house on the hill. “I believe our paths will cross often.”
Without another word she turned away and headed to the house. This time, Elliott walked in the opposite direction.
Chapter 18
The chirping of crickets from outside the window was the only sound other than Gerard’s breathing. Amelia couldn’t sleep as she’d had a strange feeling all day that something was wrong. Not with her personally, but instead a premonition of foreboding.
In the distance, she heard the sounds of a horse galloping down the street but it was not strange as it often happened now since the brothel opened.
She slipped from the bed and walked out to the front room.
In the darkness, Jessup’s shadow made her stop walking until he turned. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
“No,” Amelia relaxed. “I can’t sleep. I have a strange feeling.”
He went to the window and looked out. “Does it happen often?”
“No, it’s rare.” She let out a breath. “I’m making some chamomile tea. Would you like some?”
He shook his head. “No, thank you. I’d best get to bed.”
“What has you awake?”
The man shrugged. “Not sure, just one of those nights.” By the hollow expression, she gathered it was an ailment of the heart.
“Very well. Goodnight.” Amelia went to the kitchen and poured water from a pitcher on the counter into the kettle. Perhaps Jessup’s pacing had woken her.
She waited until the water boiled and poured it over the chamomile just as someone banged on the front door. Amelia yelped in fright. Sunny raced into the kitchen, the orange blur flying past her to the far corner where he hissed.
“Who the hell is that?” Jessup said in a gruff tone as if being wakened. She knew full well he’d not been sleeping.
The bangs sounded again. When she peaked from the kitchen, she caught sight of a bare-chested Gerard joining his brother at the front door where someone spoke in hurried tones.
“The stables are on fire,” Gerard told her as he ran to the bedroom to grab his boots.
The brothers were gone in a flash while Amelia stood at the doorway looking toward the stables. A bright orange lit the night sky as she watched, horrified. “Oh my goodness.”
Across the street, not only Sarah and Robert’s house, but the one next to it, showed lights in the windows. Soon, groups of men rushed by toward the stables. There wasn’t much that could be done for the structure. The main worry was to save the horses and any expensive carriages housed in the adjoining area.
“What is h
appening?” Her mother-in-law finally came out of her bedroom. “I smell smoke.”
“The stables are on fire,” Amelia said between prayers for her husband, Jessup and Thomas. “I hope Thomas and the other stable hands are all right. They all sleep there.”
“Oh goodness.” Georgia crossed herself and leaned out. “Should we go?”
“No. We’ll only cause more chaos at this point.”
Bundled in a long blanket, Sarah hurried across the street. “I hope everyone is all right. Can you see anything?” She rose to her toes in an attempt to see better. “Oh my goodness.” She gasped at the flames and smoke. “Everything is going to be gone. I hope the flames don’t fly to the building across from it, because it could possibly keep going and get to my house.”
Although Sarah’s home was quite a distance from the stables, there was a remote possibility. Fires could be devastating.
By the time the sun rose, the men were exhausted. Several were being tended to for breathing too much smoke and another pair for burns.
Amelia had breathed a sigh of relief when Gerard returned covered in soot, but unharmed. Both Jessup and Robert were both unharmed as well.
So far, Thomas was the one most badly burned. A wooden beam had fallen on him as he tried to coax a terrified horse out.
He was currently at Mrs. Wilkes’ in an upstairs room. An older woman, who claimed to be medically trained, was looking after Thomas.
All in all, three horses had been lost and several carriages. All the wagons kept there were gone as were the stables, the stable hands’ rooms and the blacksmith shop.
After helping with baths for the brothers, Amelia hovered as Gerard pulled on a pair of pants. “Are you sure you don’t want to lie down and rest for a bit. There really isn’t much you can do right now.”
He came to her and hugged her close. “And you look about ready to fall from exhaustion. Come on.” Gerard tugged her to the bed and stretched atop the blanket with her snug against him. “Try to get some rest.”
“I was so worried,” Amelia told him. “It was horrible.”
“Still is. We have to start building a barn for the horses before it gets to be winter. They’re going to need shelter. There is also a carriage house to get done, but that can wait.” He kept talking but, soon, Amelia could only hear a murmur as she fell asleep.
When she woke a few hours later, Gerard was gone. He was gone most days for the next week, from dawn until dark, like most of the men of Ranchester.
Life had to go on, but it was hard for Amelia not to worry about her husband. Nonetheless, along with Sarah, they headed to her aunt’s house for a committee meeting.
“It seems frivolous to plan a fall festival, don’t you think?” Sarah asked the group as they sat in Aunt Camilla’s parlor along with her mother-in-law and several other ladies from town.
“Of course not.” Her aunt gave them an incredulous look. “We’ve been planning it for months. The stables won’t be properly finished for another month. By then, it will be too cold to have any kind of outdoor festivities.”
For one, Amelia was glad for the distraction. The men continued to work on the stables, while Gerard and Jessup worked on rebuilding the blacksmith shop. They’d moved everything out a bit further from Main Street, which everyone agreed was a good idea. The charred remains of the old stables, however, remained as a stark reminder of a horrible night.
“Now,” Mrs. Withers interjected. “We have a long list of things to be completed so that we have a successful event this coming Saturday.”
The women continued talking and then broke away in groups to finish projects. Being that the men were busy building new stables and such, they had to improvise to finish stands for the festival. Thankfully, several of the women proved to be handy with a hammer and nail.
Amelia and her mother-in-law would be selling pound cakes and raffling off one of Amelia’s tablecloths. She was excited to be part of the festival for the first time as a married woman. It was interesting how she felt like a more intricate part of the community. No doubt it was because, for a long time, she’d been the only single woman in town.
Now the only single women were Lilah, the schoolteacher, and Laddie, Mrs. Wilkes’ helper. Amelia supposed she could count Clara, the madam. It was said she didn’t prostitute. However, it was doubtful that any man would marry her. And she’d probably never be accepted into the fold if it were to happen.
By the end of the day, everyone was exhausted, but had accomplished a great deal. Along with her mother-in-law, they entered the house and sat at the kitchen table barely able to lift the cup of tea to their mouths.
“I don’t know that I can gather the strength to cook an egg, much less a full meal,” Amelia said. “I think I’m going to see what Laddie has cooked and get some for supper.”
“That means walking.” Her mother in law shook her head. “I don’t have the strength left to walk another step.”
Through the window, Amelia watched Sunny stretch in the sun. “He seems to have adapted well to the move. Every once in a while he goes back to the other house but seems to have developed an attachment to me.”
Her mother-in-law smiled. “He is a handsome cat.” Georgia’s eyes widened. “Here comes Harriett.”
Her aunt’s cook came to the kitchen door and, after a couple of knocks, walked in. Hands on her ample hips, she looked from Amelia to Georgia. “You look about as tired as Camilla. I’m so glad not to be involved in all your shenanigans. I wanted to let you know I’m making extra for supper.”
Amelia wanted to cry. “Oh, Harriett, you are a life saver. Thank you.”
The woman waved away her appreciation.
That night with only moonlight streaming through the window, she curled next to Gerard. “I’m happy to hear the shop is almost open.”
He chuckled. “It’s been open. While trying to build, people keep stopping by needing this or the other. Jessup is glad to see there is so much work. He’s keeping Michael on to help,” he said, referring to the young man who’d been working with him for several years.
Gerard kissed her temple. “So there’s a festival on Saturday?”
“Yes. Do you think you will make time to accompany me for a bit?”
“I’ll try,” he replied with a yawn. “The town certainly needs to celebrate.”
“I’m so happy no one was killed. But sad that Thomas is still suffering.”
Her husband was silent for a beat. “His face is burned pretty badly on the left side and part of his shoulder, too. He’s lucky to have made it out alive.”
Amelia preferred not to consider the falling beam could have collapsed on Gerard.
“Goodnight, love.” Amelia kissed his jaw as he yawned again. “Sleep well.”
It wasn’t long before he was asleep and she looked up into the darkness. They’d not been intimate since the fire. Gerard had been so exhausted at the end of each day, he’d barely stay awake through bathing. Several times, both his and Jessup’s head bobbed during dinnertime.
Now as he slept, she prayed for a quick completion of the building and for autumn to end on a better note than it began.
Chapter 19
Thankfully, the day of the festival was sunny, barely a cloud in the sky. Although the wind was a bit chilly, no one seemed to mind.
People from the outskirts of town arrived in wagons and on horseback to take part in the festivities.
Fiddlers played happy tunes. Both children and adults danced along with the music, enjoying a day of frivolity.
Amelia laughed when an older man tugged Georgia to where others danced. It was comical to watch her mother-in-law attempt to dance while keeping the man at a safe distance.
Sarah, a master at planning social gatherings, hurried to and fro, instructing people on how to set up displays and such. Her friend came to where she sat next to her cake display. “This is much larger than I expected. Look.” She pointed to the street. “There are more people coming.”
“I think everyone is looking for an excuse to get away from home and enjoy good company,” Amelia replied. She looked over her shoulder toward her own house. Gerard had left right after breakfast, claiming he had to check on the building and would try his best to be at the festival before it ended.
“Is something wrong?” Sarah asked.
Amelia felt horrible when she sniffed. “It’s just that Gerard has barely been home at all in the last couple weeks. I know there is much to be done. I understand it, but I miss...us.”
“Why isn’t he here now? Jessup and the others are here.” Sarah huffed. “Do you think he’s having a hard time accepting his shop is gone?”
“I don’t know. I suppose. But most of his tools survived and he’s been working.”
Of course, Sarah couldn’t offer any advice other than to rub her shoulder. Amelia had been worrying for several days now that there was something more to Gerard’s absences than just the fire. Had their marriage been too hurried and he was now sorry about it?
Or perhaps the fact his mother and brother living there made it hard for him. She wasn’t sure what to think. The same thoughts ran through her mind over and over and, every time, she couldn’t figure out what had brought about the change in her new husband.
The music flowed all the way to the new shop as Gerard sat with a hammer in his hand looking through the open doorway toward the center of town. He took a deep sigh and tried to dispel the heaviness that had settled on his chest.
For days now, he’d tried his best to get rid of the sadness that had taken over since the fire. His horse had died in the fire and no one had made any mention of it. Once again, he was reminded of how things held dear could be gone in a flash.
Amelia was the most important thing in his life right now and he battled a constant fear of something happening to her. Like his horse, she, too, could be gone from one moment to the next.
On one level, he understood nothing was guaranteed in life. However, the stark reminders of it were enough to shake a man.
Amelia, An Autumn Bride (Brides for All Seasons Book 7) Page 12
