by Nika Rhone
Looking confused but grateful, Winnie latched onto the conversational gambit like a lifeline. “What kind of accident? Is everyone okay?”
As Winona—and everyone else around them, no doubt—listened to Amelia tell the story of Zeke’s run-in with the stallion in hushed tones, Daryl watched Kim and his father slide into the pew from the other direction, followed by all of the Circle R’s hands except for Chaz, who had taken Zeke to see the doctor, and Mike, who had stayed back at the ranch to keep an eye on things. He gave each of the men a nod of gratitude.
By the time the priest started the service, it had become clear to everyone inside the little church that the Raintree family and friends stood as a united front alongside Winona. It wouldn’t keep all of the narrow-minded bigots in town from ostracizing her, but it would give a lot of people pause. Hayden wasn’t large enough that it could afford to lose the Circle R’s commerce to one of the neighboring towns.
Daryl didn’t hear whatever words the priest spoke over the next hour. He sat quietly seething, staring down anyone who dared turn and peek at the women sitting at his side. The minutes ticked by so slowly he felt like he might suffocate on the heavy scent of incense if he didn’t get out into the fresh air soon. Or maybe it was just his anger choking him. It was difficult to tell.
When the time finally came for them to leave, he was the first to step into the aisle. As Amelia and Winona followed him out of the pew, he automatically fell in behind them as they walked to the back of the church, Amelia chattering away to his sister as though they’d been best friends for years. Winnie held her head high and ignored everyone around them, but Daryl saw the death grip she had on the arm Amelia had linked with hers.
Once they made it outside, Kim moved up to walk on Winona’s other side while the rest of their group ranged around the women like herding dogs protecting their flock from predators. And there were several. Daryl saw them lying in wait outside the protective walls of the church, nasty old biddies whose sense of morality had been offended by his sister’s obviously no longer secret condition and felt the need to let her know it.
“Some nerve, stepping foot inside a church in her condition.”
“How awful. The girl has no shame.”
“Jezebel.”
Daryl’s temper notched higher as his sister’s shoulders hunched more with every insult, but at the last one, he saw red. Before he could act, though, Amelia peeled herself away from Winona’s side and walked with stiff determination toward the cluster of old crones huddled under the large dogwood tree that had dominated the front of the church since before Daryl and his father had arrived in Hayden.
“ ‘Judge not, that ye be not judged,’ ” she said in a firm, loud voice. “ ‘For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.’ ”
The three women were so taken aback they didn’t respond right away.
“You don’t like that one? Then how about this? ‘And he said unto them, he that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.’ ”
Mouths gaping, the women stared at Amelia like she was some strange new life-form. Daryl knew exactly how they felt. Who was this Amazon?
“No? Then here’s a simple one you should recognize. ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love,” she repeated, stabbing a finger at them that made all three flinch. “Not judge. Not ridicule. Not shun and turn away from in their time of need. And shame on all of you for choosing to use God’s house and His day to serve your own sanctimonious agenda. Perhaps your time would be better spent contemplating your own shortcomings rather than attacking those you so self-righteously perceive in others. ‘Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own?’ ”
Deciding that it was a good time to make a strategic exit, since Kim and the others had managed to hustle Winnie away during Amelia’s diatribe, Daryl took her arm and they turned their backs on the still sputtering women. Walking toward the parking lot through the small crowd that had gathered to watch, Daryl saw more than a few people trying to hide grins. If they hadn’t been on church grounds, one or two looked like they might have broken into applause.
He certainly wanted to.
The ranch truck had already left. Winona stood beside the other truck, shaking her head at whatever her mother said. As soon as she saw Amelia, Winona threw herself at her, hugging her tight. “Thank you.” She pulled back and swiped at the tear that stole down from one eye. “You were…amazing.” She looked at Daryl. “Wasn’t she amazing?”
“Without a doubt.” Daryl was still trying to wrap his head around that out-of-character performance.
“Tell your sister she should come back to the ranch with us,” Kim said, interrupting Daryl’s study of Amelia’s pinkening face.
“Mama, I told you, I can’t.” Winona disentangled herself from Amelia. “I have work in the morning and lesson plans to get ready today.”
“You shouldn’t be alone.”
After what he’d just witnessed, Daryl agreed, but he recognized the stubborn look on his sister’s face. It was the same one that Kim wore. In sheer will, mother and daughter were evenly matched. “I don’t like the idea of you being all alone, either,” he said to Winona.
“I won’t be. Kaitlin is there.”
“And where was she when you needed her here?” Kim asked with a hint of temper.
“She didn’t feel well this morning so she stayed home. Plus, neither of us knew this was going to happen.” When Kim’s worried expression didn’t ease, Winona sighed. “Mama, really, I appreciate your concern, and I’m more grateful than I can say about the way everyone came to my defense, but I’m not going to run away and hide out at the ranch every time someone hurts my feelings. I got myself into this situation, and I’ll handle the consequences.”
She smoothed her hand over her belly in a protective gesture that made Daryl’s gut clench at the reminder that his baby sister had gone and grown up while he wasn’t around to notice. He’d missed it, and he had no one to blame but himself.
As Winnie was hugging her parents goodbye, Daryl met his father’s gaze over the women’s heads and gave a small nod to the unspoken request. After Winnie had given Amelia another bone-crushing hug, she went into Daryl’s embrace and whispered against his ear, “Don’t let this one go, Mato. She’s a keeper.”
Shaken by the words, so similar to the ones spoken by Chaska the night before, Daryl helped Amelia into the truck with a little less finesse than usual, all but tossing her up into the high seat in his haste to minimize contact. Maybe he should just tell everyone why he’d brought her to the ranch rather than have them keep jumping to all the wrong conclusions.
“We’re following Winnie home?” Amelia asked after they’d made the second turn that kept them trailing behind his sister’s dusty little Honda.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
The rest of the short trip was made in silence. Daryl pulled to the curb in front of a ranch-style house in a slightly shabby neighborhood. His sister parked under the carport on the side and walked to the front door. She was too far away to see, but he was pretty sure she rolled her eyes at him when she waved, before disappearing inside.
Daryl didn’t pull out right away. Instead, he stared at the house, wondering if he’d done the right thing in not trying to convince his sister to come out to the ranch. For all that her personality was practically a force of nature, she still had the tender heart of a child. How long had people been treating her the way they had today? What other slights and recriminations had she been subjected to that no one knew about because she was too damn proud to say anything?
He turned off the ignition. The hell with it. She was coming back with him whether she liked it or not. Which she wouldn’t. Which meant they’d probably fight, and she’d get upset all over again, which couldn’t be good for the baby.
“Dammit,” he muttered, restarting
the truck and pulling away from the curb before he changed his mind again.
“I didn’t expect to see that kind of animosity,” Amelia said after a few minutes. “Pregnancy outside of marriage has become almost commonplace these days.”
“Not in a small town like Hayden. People here aren’t the open-minded sort.”
“Surely you can’t paint the whole town with the same brush like that?”
“No, I suppose not. But all it takes is a few sharp tongues to cause a wound that bleeds.” He glanced over at her. “The words you used to set those women down before were perfect. What do you do, sit around memorizing Bible quotes for fun?”
“For fun?” Amelia uttered a harsh noise that wasn’t quite a laugh. “No. For my father. He liked to be able to pepper his speeches with the appropriate religious flourishes when he was speaking to certain groups of constituents.” She sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have gone after them like that, though.”
“Are you kidding? Those three witches were long overdue for a taste of their own sanctimonious medicine.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a story there?”
Maybe because there was. He hadn’t remembered them right away, which was surprising, since they figured so prominently in the earliest memories he had of living in Hayden, none of them pleasant. Twenty-two years was a long time, but they hadn’t changed much except to get older and nastier. And to shift their animosity and prejudice onto a different Raintree offspring.
Only this time, they weren’t going to be able to drive their chosen victim away so easily. He hated to admit it, but his little sister was made of sterner stuff than he’d been at her age.
“Not going to tell me, huh?” Amelia shrugged, a small grin on her lips. “That’s okay. I can wait.”
It wasn’t until they’d turned down the long dirt road that led to the ranch that Daryl said, “I just realized this time it’s me who hasn’t said thank you. For what you did for Winnie.”
“You don’t have to. I like your sister. Besides, anyone would have done the same.”
Damn. The woman didn’t take praise any better than she did a compliment.
“But anyone didn’t. You did. So, thank you.”
“But—”
“You’re welcome, Daryl.” He singsonged it over her protest.
Amelia sputtered for a second before laughing. “You’re welcome, Daryl,” she parroted back. “But really, if you think about it, you’re helping me and I helped your sister. I’d say we’re even.”
Even? Not by a long shot. What she’d done for Winona had been personal. She’d put herself forward, not once, but twice, when he knew for a fact that she despised being on display.
His helping her was less altruistic. It was his job, plain and simple. He’d only gotten involved in her situation in the first place because Doyle had asked it of him. But all of that had changed the second she’d gone from church mouse to avenging angel, taking on the Hayden Harridans for a girl she’d only met less than a day before.
Like it or not, Amelia Westlake had just earned herself a champion, and come hell or high water, Daryl was going to slay her dragons for her. The only question was just how singed he was going to get in the process.
Chapter Fourteen
Amelia had forgotten how much she loved riding.
Tilting her head back and taking a deep breath of the warm, fresh air, she closed her eyes and let the sun beat down on her face, trusting the sure-footed animal beneath her to find her way. Cleo hadn’t seemed to need much direction during their lazy ramble over one of the huge grazing fields. She was too enamored with Daryl’s mount to do anything but follow where he led.
As if to prove it, Daryl drew Casper to a halt and Cleo took the opportunity to reach over and lip at Casper’s neck and mane. Amelia gently tugged the reins, earning an annoyed snort and foot-stamp. Another tug and the horse relented, swinging her large head downward to crop at some grass.
Amelia grinned and gave the lovesick mare’s neck an affectionate pat. “I think she has a thing for Casper.”
“Too bad for her Casper’s a gelding,” Daryl replied.
“Oh, dear. Poor Cleo.” Then she laughed as the mare shifted so she could get to the grass right next to where Casper was eating, practically touching noses with him. The gelding blew through his nostrils but didn’t push her away. “Ah, well, I guess it doesn’t matter to her. The heart wants what the heart wants.”
And, like the Egyptian queen she’d been named for, Cleo wanted the attention of every male that came near her. With a glossy dark brown coat and a black mane that came down over her forehead like the bangs Cleopatra was usually depicted as wearing, the mare was one of the prettiest horses Amelia had ever seen. She’d been drawn to her immediately when Daryl had brought her to the stables to pick their mounts. She’d been willing to beg if she had to. Thankfully, Daryl had judged Cleo a good match for Amelia’s rusty riding skills.
Not that she’d ever ridden a western saddle before, either. Shifting her seat, she still wasn’t sure she liked it. The English saddles she’d learned on and used in dressage were smaller and lighter, making her feel more connected to the horse beneath her. The first ten minutes or so on Cleo’s back had been an awkward learning curve, but slowly her muscle memory had started to adjust to the different seat and style of stirrups. Once Daryl judged her sufficiently proficient on Cleo that she wasn’t going to fall off and kill herself, they’d headed off across the open fields of the Circle R’s land.
“This is absolutely gorgeous.” Amelia looked out over the expanse of grasses and gently rolling hills in awe. Off to their left she could see a small copse of trees, the glimmer of water showing just to the north. If that was the stream Daryl told her they were heading for, that meant they’d nearly reached the ranch’s westernmost property line.
“Yeah, it is.” Daryl rested his wrists on the saddle horn as he stared out over the land. “You should see it in the spring when all of the grasses and wildflowers are just starting to come alive. It’s like being inside a painting.” Then, as though uncomfortable with his own observation, he clicked his tongue at Casper. “We should keep going. You must be hungry by now.”
Falling into place behind the big, white horse and his big, dark rider, Amelia realized that, yes, she was hungry. Starving, in fact. Which, considering what she’d eaten for breakfast just a few hours ago, was as shocking as it was gratifying.
After they’d loosened the girths on both horses and tied them so they could graze, Daryl and Amelia settled onto the blanket he spread across the springy grass that lined the stream bank. Amelia unpacked the sack of food Kim had given her, keeping one sandwich and one apple for herself and passing the rest to Daryl.
Unwrapping the wax paper around the sandwich, she took a satisfying bite. Her mother’s chef might have won enough culinary awards to wallpaper the kitchen with, but she’d never enjoyed a single thing he cooked as much as she did that simple ham sandwich. She devoured it with dainty greed, almost wishing she hadn’t been quite so hasty in giving the rest of them away.
Then again, Daryl needed the extra fuel more than she did. He was bigger than her. A lot bigger. She watched as he took a bite out of his apple, white teeth slashing through the fruit’s crisp flesh with a loud crunch. For the second time that day, she felt all of the moisture vanish from her mouth as she watched him chew, swallow, and take another large bite.
Oh, my. If it wouldn’t have been too obvious, she would have fanned herself. What the heck was going on? She’d seen the man eat before, for Pete’s sake. So why was she watching him devour that piece of fruit like it was the most fascinating thing on the planet?
Embarrassed by her strange fascination, she looked away, taking a large bite of her own apple and praying he hadn’t noticed. She brushed at the juice that trickled down her chin with the back of her hand, smiling at the thought of her mother’s horrified reaction to that uncouth gesture. Then again, her mother would be horrified by
any number of things her daughter had been doing lately.
And I don’t care one bit. Amelia gleefully snapped another bite. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. Obviously, she still cared a little if she was even thinking about what her mother would think. But she was trying her best not to. That had to count for something, right?
Just like she was trying her best not to think about how angry her parents must be right now. Or what was going on back in Connecticut with Charles and his parents and all of the hundreds of guests who, according to Daryl’s last conversation with Doyle, were still expecting a wedding at the end of the week.
Rinsing their hands in the stream, Amelia was reluctant to let the lazy afternoon end, but once they let the horses have a long drink, there was nothing left to do but pack up the remains of their lunch and start for home. As each mile passed, Amelia felt more and more at peace. The fresh air and repetitive thud of the horses’ hooves were like some kind of magic elixir, draining all of the tension that held her paralyzed for the past few weeks and leaving her…free.
“You are so lucky to have been born in such a beautiful place.” She hoped she didn’t sound as jealous as she felt.
“I wasn’t.”
The short answer drew her gaze from the scenery over to the man riding next to her. “I’m sorry?”
“I wasn’t born here.”
“No? Oh, were you born in Pine Ridge, then?” She remembered Winona mentioning that the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation where she was a schoolteacher was only about a fifteen-minute drive west of Hayden.
“California.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. The clipped response pretty much shut the door on any further questions.
“Dad was a Marine,” Daryl finally said into the growing silence. His tone made it clear he begrudged giving up the information. “I was born while he was stationed at Pendleton. We didn’t move back here until…after.”
