"Perhaps you are right, Martin, but Amy deserves more than we ever had. She's in love with Clay Reno, and always has been. And nothing you do on this earth will change that."
"As long as I'm alive, Clay Reno will never have her." Martin rasped and stared his wife down. "But once he truly dead, she'll have to reconsider her feelings, eventually."
"You're talking like a crazy man."
"She's the one good thing in my life. Pure and sweet, and untouched. I will not have scum like Reno touching her."
Beatrice gasped.
"She's your daughter, not your wife, Martin. She has a life of her own to live. You can't control her like you have me all these years."
"I've given you everything. Everything, you hear me. Fancy clothes, the best carriage, the big beautiful house, everything. You're ungrateful. And I have no use for you any longer. Get out!" Her husband shouted.
"I'm not leaving, this is my home." Beatrice cried.
"It was your home. But, I don't want you any longer. You haven't been a wife to me in years. Even you have to agree on that. Pack your bags and get out. I don't need you anymore." Martin came at her wildly.
She dodged him and ran to her room, locking the door.
"Get out, do you hear me. Get out of my house." He demanded through the door.
Beatrice moved through the bedroom, staring at everything, wondering where she had gone so wrong. Numbness took hold of her. Her happiness was no longer important. But Amy…she had to help Amy!
~*~
"What are you doing here Amy?" Clay rasped as he continued to hold the board for Juan to nail. He could smell the faint fragrance she wore.
"I saw the fire…," she mumbled.
His voice held a steel edge, but the look in his eyes held a yearning that pulled her.
"Yeah, well, whoever did this isn't going to win. This is my home, Billy's home, and now Becca's home, and we aren't giving it up or being pushed off the land. We're here to stay. So now you can let everyone in town know, the Reno's are staying."
His words filled her with relief.
A silence prevailed. Amy finally nodded. "I'm glad."
He jerked about to look at her, and he swallowed hard. Her gaze held his. Her words made him want to take her in his arms and never let her go, but he didn't move. Instead, he planted his feet in the ground and just stared.
His voice was low, almost like velvet and the gleam in his eyes were quickly masked. "You best be getting home…"
"I saw the fire while it was still smoldering. I had to stop. It was too late to do any good. I stood here wondering which one of my neighbors could do this. No matter what has happened in the past…this isn't right." Her voice softened like a whisper.
He turned to look at her, realizing the fragile state she was in, and wishing he could turn it all around for her, he came up to her.
He wanted to embrace her, to tell her how much he needed her right now. But he knew he had no right.
"There are a lot of things that aren't right. This is my home Amy, and no one is pushing me off. Nobody. They burn it down again and I'll rebuild. I'll keep rebuilding. And when I can't afford to rebuild I'll put up a tent and live here. I've fought a war that I didn't like. I lived through that. I can live through this too. Now…go home! It isn't safe for you to be here."
She reached her hand to cover his and slowly looked up into his face. "I'd like to help…"
The touch of her hand sent waves of comfort, and released a tension within him that made him almost take her into his arms again. Again, he refrained with great effort. He wanted her so.
"I don't think you know what that would say to your parents, your neighbors, and your fiancé. Go home, Amy. This isn't your war, it's mine." Clay stared at her long and hard.
He looked down at her hand. The intimacy of that small touch was like a balm to all the old wounds he'd suffered. Just the touch of her hand…
"You're wrong about that. It is my war too, and the town's. This is injustice. I'm here to help you."
Juan turned to look at them. "She's right my friend."
Amy glanced at Juan. "I'm Amy Clark." She extended her hand to him.
"Pleased to meet you Señorita. I am Juan Vega." He took her hand and kissed it.
She smiled, "Now what can I do?"
"We could all use some water." Juan smiled at her gently.
She nodded and went to the well to draw some fresh water. She brought the bucket and the scoop and offered the men a drink.
Clay watched her move about the place as though at home here. He didn't want her in this…but he was damned proud of her right now! So proud he couldn't speak.
How could he continue to hide his feelings from her when she offered her help? How could he keep silent when what he wanted to do, was take her in his arms and kiss her until morning came. She was his love, his only love and she always would be.
Still, he knew that exposing those feelings could change everything, and not for the better. She was promised to George and she hadn't broken that promise. Therefore, his silence was necessary. It proved the hardest thing he'd ever done…not telling her how he felt. Not telling her of his dreams and hopes. Not giving them any chance for a future. His silence was killing him. How long could he stay here without telling her how he felt?
Chapter Nine
The next week, Billy and Becca returned. They had rented a carriage from the train station in Beaverton and drove home, Billy pointed out places of interest to her, along the way.
It had been a beautiful day and the drive to the ranch was relaxing, since they stopped for a picnic earlier.
However, as they rode up to the house, Billy's eyes went over the place in silent shock. New timber lined the yard, and the new house was nearly finished. Juan's men were working diligently to finish it. Clay was there, helping Juan every step of the way.
Billy looked stunned by the activity and the pile of charred wood he couldn't quite take his eyes from. Anger ran up his back like a streak of lightning. He put his hand on his gun and his hand tightened on it. However, when Becca put a hand on his, he turned his attention to his new bride and tried to smile at her.
Becca stared at the charred wood beside the new house that was nearly finished. She said nothing, not wanting to alarm Billy any more than he already was.
Billy glanced at her. "Something's gone wrong here…"
He helped her from the buggy. She was wearing a beautiful pink gown, with a hat to match with a feather on it. She looked lovely, Billy swallowed hard, still not able to get over the fact that he had married this young woman. Yet coming home to this was not what he expected.
They walked slowly up the steps to the long wrap-around porch. Billy looked around the porch and shook his head. "Man, this is nice…"
Billy went into the house. Becca held on to his arm.
Juan, his men and Clay were all gathering around the new table they'd just built. They were talking and smiling. Billy hadn't expected that.
"Come on in, have some coffee." Juan smiled.
Clay turned around from the stove and stared at Billy.
"What's been going on?" Billy came right up to Clay.
"Had a little fire…" Clay said, his eyes straying from Billy to Becca. "But, everything is under control now, so not to worry."
"Yeah I can see that?" Billy repeated slowly. "Who did it?"
Clay saw the anger inside Billy building and for Becca's sake, he had to squash it and turn Billy's attention somewhere else, just as Juan had done for him.
"Doesn't matter. What matters is, you have a new home, thanks to Juan and his men." Clay smiled. "And I gotta say, it's a better one."
The tension eased shortly.
Billy's mouth fell open. Then he glanced at Juan. "It's bigger and better than the old one. My God, that porch…it's beautiful."
"I remember sitting out on our porch many a time, enjoying the sunrise or sunset, talking with my dad, playing checkers with one of the boys. I felt like
it was my second house."
"Si…it is magnifico. Mr. Sanders always said a porch was the most beautiful and used part of a house." Juan smiled at them both. "So how was St. Louis?"
"Beautiful," Becca gushed. "So many people…and things to see and do." Billy shook his head.
Becca saw the expressions on the men's faces and the anger in her new husband and came to hold on to him. She grabbed his arm and held it close. "The house…it's beautiful…"
Billy took the cup of coffee Clay offered and handed it to Becca, and then he poured himself a cup. He joined the men at the table and motioned for Becca to sit beside him.
"Welcome to the Double R Ranch, Becca." Clay turned a smile on her.
"Thank you. I'm so glad to be here. I think I'm going to love it here."
"So…how was St. Louis? It had to be a little more than beautiful." He asked, distracting Billy once more from his festering anger.
"Big is the word for it. We had a lovely time. There was so much to see, and we dined at the best of café's and walked the streets, shopping. We brought back a lot of presents for everyone, too."
Billy glanced at Clay, and seeing his expression, he tempered himself.
"So you named it the Double R?" Billy found himself smiling.
Clay shrugged. "Hope you don't mind. I thought that appropriate, but I have to give credit to Juan for thinking of it." Clay acknowledged.
Juan stood up. "I will bring your things in for you."
Billy got up. "Oh…I'll help you."
Billy was anxious to catch up on what happened and he knew that Clay was shielding Becca of the news. He was grateful for that.
When they went outside, he rushed to ask Juan. "What happened here Juan?"
"We came…and found it in ashes. Your brother looked almost stricken. He was angry. Almost to the point of out of control. So I distracted him, by building a new house, a better one. I realized we had to do something. We began rebuilding. And it is bigger and better than the other one, for you and Becca."
"My brother thinks of me, before he does himself. Do you know who did it?" Billy asked his frown burrowing into his face.
"No señor. We do not know. We thought it best to worry over rebuilding, rather than who did this. There will be a time for it, but that time is not now. Your brother was very upset over this, because he knew you'd be coming home and find it in ashes. So to prevent a needless killing I turned his attention to rebuilding, instead. He wanted things to be nice for you and your bride." Juan smiled. "It is important to remember now that you are married and that she must come first. You do not want to make her a widow first thing, Si?"
Billy thought about that. "I guess you are right."
"Si. Becca looks very happy." Juan said. "Mr. Sanders will be so pleased."
"We both are…" Billy smiled at Juan. "I think being married agrees with me."
"Good, now, for your brother's sake, let us not speak of who did this. As I said, there will be a time for it, later." Juan cautioned. "For I fear, this is not over. And the boys and I have talked it over and we're staying as long as you need us. We'll send a telegram to Mr. Sanders, explaining. He still has a full crew without us, so we are not needed at this time."
Billy nodded. "I see why Mr. Sanders sent you here, now Juan. I guess, in times like this, we need a level head around, don't we."
Juan laughed, "Yes my friend. You do."
Inside Becca suddenly stood up and walked over to Clay. "Let me make some lunch." She insisted.
"Oh but you just got home. I didn't want you to think you had to go to work the minute you got here." Clay insisted.
"Nonsense!" She took the spatula out of his hand and began preparing things. ”This is my home too, now. And I'm afraid you men will have to get used to the idea that I'm the cook and housekeeper here, among other things. I'm not a pampered woman I'll have you know. I can pull my weight." She smiled at him.
Clay couldn't stop the smile from spreading. "Yes, ma'am you are."
"Good, glad we got that settled. At home, I did most of the cooking, cleaning and helped dad too. I intend to do the same here. And just so you know…I love it here already. This new place is more than I ever expected." Becca smiled at him. "And we're going to build onto this ranch until it surpasses my father's and he's pea green with envy."
Clay had to laugh at her spunk.
"Well by golly, I’m all for that." Clay glanced at the others who were smiling.
Billy and Juan came through with the luggage and deposited into the bedroom that Clay showed him. "I gave you two the biggest bedroom, since there are more of you than me."
Billy glanced around at all the little touches of home they had created. A shelf, a homemade dresser, a bed big enough for two.
"I can't believe you got the place looking so grand…in so little time." Billy looked amazed.
"With Juan and his men, it was easy. They are all hard workers. So you like it?" Clay asked.
"Like it? It's more than I ever thought it would be." Billy smiled and glanced at his brother.
Clay knew his curiosity was getting the best of him and that the questions would begin. "Who did it, Clay?" Billy asked when he shut the bedroom door for a minute.
Clay bowed his head, trying to figure out how to be tactful. "Look Billy, I don't know. I guess they'll show their hand sooner or later." Clay stared at Billy. "I figure it is someone that has a grudge with me, and I’m sorry I've brought this on you and Becca."
"We're a family, remember?" Billy asked coming up to him and staring in his emotionally drawn face. "And families stick together."
Clay nodded unable to speak for the moment.
"We're in this together Clay. Whatever comes, we are together. Understood?"
"Yeah…yeah, I do understand. Just wish I could change things for the better, Billy." Clay frowned. "I've had so many hopes and dreams since the war ended and my leg mended."
Billy twisted his head in question. "You and Pa always said anything worth having was worth fighting for, right?"
Clay nodded slowly, and a smile broke across his face. "Yeah…we did say that. For now, let's concentrate on building this place up and getting the work done. If we have to fight, wait until it comes. And we can't jump to conclusions about who did this, Billy. We got to use our heads. Juan taught me that."
"He's good at that." Billy smiled. "He fancies himself a teacher."
"That wife of yours is a gem, too. I think we better keep her." Clay smiled.
"Let's go eat." Billy broke into a chuckle.
Chapter Ten
"Mother!" Amy cried when she saw her mother carrying a suitcase from the house and walking down the street.
Her mother looked haggard and her hair wasn't fixed, her dress looked rumpled. When she saw Amy coming, she looked ashamed.
"Oh…Amy." Beatrice gasped and went to hug her. She set her cases down and hugged her tight.
Just from the way she squeezed her she knew something was very wrong. "I'm so glad you are here."
"W-where are you going?" Amy looked into the worried eyes of her mother.
"I don't know yet. But away from here." She replied choking out the tears.
"What's happened?" Amy begged her to tell her.
"A lot, Amy. A lot. Your father kicked me out of my own house." Beatrice cried.
"He what?" Amy's face was ashen with disbelief.
"I'm sorry to tell you like this. To just blurt it out. But it's the truth. I'm leaving him…," her mother said.
"Why? What happened?"
"I'll tell you all about it, but first I've got to find a place to stay." Beatrice cried. "Oh…Amy, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm just so upset. But I know leaving that house was the best thing for me to do. I won't be going back, either."
"Oh mother…" Amy cried, glancing at the big three-story house. From the distance, it looked cold and unfeeling. She'd never seen it from that point of view, but seeing the distress on her mother's face, made her grimace.
"I guess I'll get a room at the hotel for a few days and figure out from there." Beatrice said, her hair coming down from her perfect coiffure.
Amy wasn't sure what to say to her mother at this point. She didn't know what went on. Still, the fact that her father demanded her mother leave was enough to be upset about. After twenty-four years together, it was hard for Amy to imagine them separated. Something had been lacking for a long time in that house; she just never put her finger on what it was. Until now, it was a lack of love.
At the hotel, the manager was at the desk and shocked to see Mrs. Clark there with a suitcase. "Are you going somewhere, Mrs. Clark?"
"Yes, I will need a room. Amy, do you want to stay with me?" Beatrice asked.
"Of course I do." Amy rushed to say.
"Then we'll need a room with two beds, please."
"You're staying here?" Leon the hotel manager twitched his mustache. He'd known Amy's parents for decades and to see this was a tongue-wagging event.
"Yes, that's right. I'm staying here." Her mother repeated. "Now quit asking me foolish questions and get me a room."
"Of course…" Leon looked hurt. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry," Beatrice saw the insult she inflicted on his face. "I didn't mean to snap at you, but I've had a trying day."
"Yes ma'am." Leon smiled now. "Room 224, it has two twin beds, it's very roomy and you'll be more than comfortable there. How many days are you staying?"
"I'm not sure, Leon. But I will tell you as soon as I know." She asked him how much a week's rent would be and paid the bill ahead of time. She paid for a week. That would give her time to sort this out and figure out where she was going from there.
Leon smiled. "I hope you'll be comfortable here. If you need anything, just let me know. Extra towels, clean sheets, anything."
Beatrice nodded.
"Very well, here's your key. It's up the stairs and to the right." He instructed.
Amy helped her mother up the stairs and carried her luggage.
As they entered the room, Beatrice gasped at the starkness of the room. "I shouldn't have expected so much."
This Side of Forever (Book Five of the Brides of the West Series) Page 7
