"Yes, there was a bear." He helped her to the sofa.
"What happened?"
"Why don't you rest and let me get you some tea?"
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea."
He hurried and filled a cup. She accepted it and flashed him a warm smile. "Thank you."
Charles settled across from her, and directed his gaze toward the rising flames.
"Where am I?" she asked.
Without hesitating, he said, "In a cabin on Stephen's property."
"Oh."
"It was closer than taking you to the house."
"Of course."
"Do you feel all right? I think you hit your head pretty hard."
Amelia touched her head and grimaced. "I think you're right."
"Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."
He stood, pulled a blanket from a cedar chest, and laid it across her lap. She sighed, her eyes drifted shut and a soft snore escaped her lips. Charles laid her back on the sofa and crouched beside her. Brown hair fell across her face in soft waves. He moved a strand of it behind her ear and studied her face.
Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. Her rosy, full lips puckered into a pout. Incoherent words fell from her mouth. Leaning close to listen, he felt her hot breath. He gulped. He should move away, he really should.
Ignoring his inner voice, he moved an inch closer and pressed his lips to hers. She scooted and rolled off the sofa, sending him backward, and landing on top of him. Gently he rolled them over and held himself above her.
"Kiss me," she begged, tears filling her eyes. She lifted her hand and stroked his cheek. "Soon I'll go home and be an old maid but at least I'll have my memories."
Charles attempted to push away but she grabbed him and pulled him toward her. Desire welled in his center as she rose and placed her lips to his. She deepened the kiss. Exerting all of his strength, he pushed up and moved away.
Amelia's lips turned downward. Tears streamed along her cheeks and dripped from her face. She rose to a sitting position, placed her back against the sofa, and buried her face in her hands.
He handed her a handkerchief.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what's come over me. Maybe it is because my parents are coming. In a few weeks I'll return to Louisiana and my old boring life. Cora will prepare to leave as I prepare to stay forever."
Charles knelt beside her. "You don't have to go home."
She blew her nose. "Yes, I do. You don't understand. I'm the only one who will stay and help them. I'm the only one who will never have a life."
She scooted away and stood up, and he didn't move. He had nothing to offer but heart ache. They would both be better off if he just let her go.
"I want to go back to the house now."
Charles didn't argue. He helped her outside. She attempted to mount her own horse but he wouldn't let her.
Tying their mounts together, he climbed astride his horse then reached down and grabbed Amelia around the middle. She came willingly and settled in front of him.
Comfortable, he kicked the horse's flank and they trotted toward the Green home. Several times he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. Again they'd kissed and he'd pushed her away without explanation.
Sorrow for her life was great. Despair consumed her and her shoulders shook as she cried. He tightened his grip around her, pulling her closer to his chest, and planting a chaste kiss on her forehead.
With each step of the horse's hooves they drew closer to their separation. The desire to stop the horse, carry Amelia off into the woods and find a preacher to marry them, filled him.
As the house came into focus, Charles cringed. The circle drive was occupied. Shoring up his strength, he headed for the front door. This was not his day.
Chapter Eleven
"Amelia!" Millie shouted as she ran and hugged her. She leaned back, her gaze roving the full length of her frame. "Are you all right? Victor heard a gunshot from his property and hastened here. He and Stephen searched for hours but found no sign of you."
Amelia motioned her companion forward. "Charles found me." Millie frowned and Amelia continued, "He took me to the cabin along the edge of your property until he was sure I was fit for travel."
Millie shot a glance at Charles and he looked away. She clutched Amelia's arm. "Come inside. The doctor wants to check you over."
The parlor held several people, their forlorn expressions changed to that of relief as she entered.
Perched on the fireplace mantel, Victor smiled before rushing to her side. He halted abruptly and clasped his hands before him. "You're alive," he said with a heavy breath.
"Of course."
Victor turned his head and nodded, his tone changing drastically. "Charles."
"Victor."
Amelia rested on a long velvet sofa while the doctor examined her eyes and felt of her head. "Ah, there is what I expected to find, a knot. Did you throw up or pass out after hitting your head?"
Amelia struggled to remember.
Charles said, "Yes."
The doctor pursed his lips. "I think it best if you rest for a few days. Mrs. Green, you must keep your sister from any activity."
Millie nodded and patted Amelia's leg.
The doctor left. Walter and Evelyn expressed their happiness over her return and exited. Delia tried to sit close by, but Stephen shooed her from the room. Now only Stephen, Millie, Charles, Victor, and herself remained.
"My sister needs her rest. She will be available for visitors in a few days," said Millie, directing pointed stares at Charles and Victor.
Charles stood, glanced at her, and turned to leave.
"Wait," Amelia said.
He stopped.
Without assistance she stood and walked toward him. She enacted her best smile, put her hands on either side of his face, tiptoed, and placed a kiss on his cheek. She whispered, "Thank you."
He closed his eyes, and nodded. A long sigh rent the air. Time stood still as Amelia anticipated a kiss in return. But it wasn't to be. He turned on his heel and left the room, closing the door behind him with a resounding click.
Victor cleared his throat, and Amelia swallowed her disappointment, straightened her shoulders, and faced the others. "Victor, I appreciate your concern, and you informing my sister of my potential harm, but as you can see, I'm fine."
Victor's Adam's apple bobbed as he bowed low with a sweeping arm. "I'm grateful that is the case." He stood, his dark eyes studying her face. "Next time you might not be so lucky."
Amelia narrowed her eyes and followed his departing form. Worry clenched her chest, but she pushed it aside as Millie led her to her room.
Countless hours passed as she lay upon her bed and studied the ceiling. Intricate swirls covered the white tiles. The barest hint of color coated the outer edges. Rolling onto her stomach, Amelia cradled her chin in her palm. Rest of the body was easy; rest of the mind was not.
The feel of Charles covering the length of her body brought a rush of heat to her face. She could still feel his coarse hands against her smooth skin. Desire pooled in her center as tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. Angrily, she swiped them away.
Maybe on the other side of sleep things would appear differently. She grabbed a feather pillow, wadded it into a ball, and placed it under her head. Her lids drifted as sleep claimed her.
****
"Good work."
"Excuse me?" Charles was on his way to claim his horse when Victor's voice assaulted him.
"You have no intentions of pursuing Amelia, so why don't you leave her for someone who does?"
Charles balled his fists at his sides. "You're one to talk of such matters. Even as we speak Miss Cassidy Kyle spreads rumors of your love for her. The words she uses leave little doubt that you're not a free man."
Victor threw his hand out as if pushing the thought away. "Miss Kyle needs to keep her mouth shut. Matters between she and I are a private concern."
Charles mounted his horse. "If you say so."<
br />
"Where do you think you're going? Our conversation is far from over."
"I disagree."
Charles kicked his mount and left a stuttering Victor behind. The less than sporting action felt good, and he urged the horse faster along the lane.
Unfortunately the speed of the animal didn't erase Victor's words. Hampered by his lack of funds, he could not hope to pursue Amelia. Love only lasted until hunger took over. Without his inheritance, without the Vincent land, he was nothing.
Dwelling on the past wouldn't change the future.
The horse slowed as he approached the turn to the Vincent plantation. Unconsciously he'd directed the beast to his true home.
He raked an unsteady hand through his hair. The tips of the strands stroked his coat. He was in sore need of a trim. Clare, a plantation slave, had trimmed his hair since he was a wee lad. Perhaps if he was careful he could sneak onto the property and–
"Your thoughts betray you nephew."
Victor's sudden interruption jarred him.
"What thoughts are those, uncle?"
"The thoughts that if you reacquire your land it will assist in winning the girl."
Charles chuckled. "What makes you think I want it back? I'm finally free. No responsibilities, no one I have to take care of. Why would I ever want to go back?"
Victor drew his brows together. "You can continue to lie to yourself, but you forget that I know you."
Victor whipped his horse and shot forward causing dust to billow along the road and strike Charles in the face. Waving it away, Charles tugged on the reins and turned the horse toward his new home.
Approaching the cabin, Charles shifted in his saddle. He closed his eyes and inhaled the crisp air. What he'd said to Victor was half true.
The life of the land flowed through his veins. Tireless hours he had worked alongside his father growing the plantation. As he aged and matured his father had ordered him to leave home and gain experience. Charles had protested vehemently but his father had refused to relent.
Approaching his mother had brought no change in opinion. As he stared at the land memories flooded him…
"But Mother I don't wish to leave home. Everything I love is here. Why must I go?"
Grace, his mother, placed her hands on either side of his face and stared lovingly into his eyes. "You must leave otherwise you will never know what a blessing home truly is."
Reluctantly, Charles gave in. He traveled to the South Carolina coast and booked passage to Europe. Ample funds for the journey jiggled in his pocket yet he determined in his mind not to avail himself of them. He would make his own way.
Workers liberally scattered the docks. Ship captains were in constant need of help on long voyages. Gaining employment was easy and Charles boarded a vessel bound for Europe.
Travel across the ocean with a band of miscreants taught Charles things he never thought to know. Pirates raided them and the crew fought back. A third of the men perished during the battle. Those left struggled against dysentery from a lack of adequate food and water.
When they landed on the English coastline, Charles vowed to never step foot on a ship again. It took but a few weeks to break that promise. The channel crossing was much less eventful and he found himself enamored with the countries he visited.
France to Italy hosted a variety of cultural temptations for Charles to imbibe upon. He wrote home often describing his experiences. As each letter left his fingertips, the longing to return with the parchment grew.
Cities, known for their romantic interludes, were passed by as Charles had no desire to find love only to leave it behind. And behind it would be, as he had no intentions of spending the rest of his life somewhere other than South Carolina.
With each passing day, Charles grew wearier. Lights, buildings, fancy parties, finely dressed women, nothing garnered his attention. Time to return home fell upon him with a vengeance.
Using funds from his still full purse, Charles purchased passage home. Instead of working his way back, he chose a luxury liner filled with rich patrons. He wined and dined across the Atlantic Ocean arriving in South Carolina precisely one year after he'd departed.
No horse and carriage awaited his arrival. Word of his homecoming would be a secret until he stepped onto the manse's porch and announced himself. Giddiness filled him over the prospect.
Acquiring a suitable horse took longer than he liked and his return journey fell to the following day. Rain slicked the muddy roads and the normally sure-footed beast slipped and slid. Not wishing to lose another day of travel, Charles walked and led the horse.
Lights glowed from the large windows as Charles crested the hill leading to the manse. The well kept grounds were filthy from the inclement weather. The white house appeared dingy in the outside gloom.
Dark clouds covered the sky as Charles tied his horse to a post and sloshed up the porch steps. The brass knocker gleamed and he reached for it as the door flew open.
"Charles?" gasped his mother.
"Mother!" he shouted as he wrapped her in his arms and lifted her off the ground.
The entire household greeted him. He spent days in the study describing his travels in great detail. With the rains gone, work ensued. His father urged him to rest for a time but Charles was tired of lying about and ready to resume his familial duties.
Two weeks of family bliss passed. His parents decided to take a trip into Charleston. He watched from the study window envious of their relationship and hopeful that his return home meant he could settle down and find his own mate.
The carriage pulled from the driveway, his smiling happy parents inside.
A crow cawed and Charles sat straighter in the saddle, returning his focus to his new home.
After the carriage had pulled away from the house, he never saw his parents again. Along their journey, the carriage had thrown a wheel. It rolled down a ravine and crashed upon a pile of jagged rocks. A passerby had seen the ruined carriage and reported it to the closest plantation owner. Three weeks had passed before their identity was discovered.
Charles had been beside himself with grief. His uncle, Victor, had arrived posthaste and as the caskets lowered into the ground he had demanded his share of the plantation.
He had yelled, "The estate belonged to my father. It is my birthright not yours!"
Charles had ordered Victor removed from the property.
Two years passed and Charles desired to make amends with his only living relative. He sent letters asking Victor to visit. But his uncle steadfastly refused. No matter how many times Charles offered the white feather of peace, his uncle turned him down. When the time came for him to travel to New Orleans with Stephen, he offered Victor one last chance. He could come and stay at the house and watch over things while Charles was away. He needed the help and in his heart he knew Victor needed to be a part of the land as much as he did.
In his normal sullen manner, Victor had said yes and the agreement had been struck.
Now he sat on a rock outside a tiny cabin. Everything he'd once used to define himself belonged to another. Powerless to change things, he'd spent months in a drunken stupor. Only Millie's forceful nature and Stephen's willingness to follow his wife had helped him overcome his melancholy.
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, he pushed off the rock and entered the cabin. Change came at the least expected times and Charles realized the wind reeked of it yet again.
Chapter Twelve
Pale yellows and greens decorated the nursery. Two small beds hugged the wall, and toys littered the floor.
Millie strutted around the room like a mother hen, picking up toys and thrusting them on shelves. As if Natalie and Nathan didn't keep her busy enough, she tried to control Amelia's life as well.
"You heard the doctor, you need to rest."
"True but he said a few days, not a fortnight!"
"Better to be extra cautious. I remember when…"
The words faded as Amelia stared out the w
indow. Her hot breath hit the icy pane and the glass fogged. She used her finger and drew a snowflake.
"You're not listening."
"No, I'm not," she said, finishing her artwork before facing her sister. "Mother and Father will arrive within the week. Do you not understand what this means?"
"I'm sensing that I do not."
"Once they arrive I'll be bound by decorum to remain by their side."
"They will not expect–"
"Will they not? I'm unwed and unbetrothed, and of the age to generate interest among some."
"Two I know of for sure." Millie combed Natalie's hair and grinned broadly.
Amelia restrained her frown as she continued. "I'm meant to live in Bayou Sara, whether alone or wed remains to be seen. But for as long as I'm here, just imagining I'm free to do as I please has been liberating."
Millie released Natalie and the girl crawled away. Millie clasped Amelia's hands and squeezed. "They would be shamed to hear you speak this way. They only want for your happiness."
"As I do theirs," said Amelia.
Millie released her grip, stood, and drew the curtains back. "Maybe you're right. This day is too beautiful to be spent inside. If I'm pleasant enough I might convince Stephen to take us for a ride. Would you like that?"
"Very much so. In fact I would love to tour the Vincent Estate. When Charles visited us in Bayou Sara he promised to show me around his home."
Millie's face altered into a deepening frown. "I was thinking more like a trip to Walterborough."
"Oh, if you think that best."
Millie nodded and left to find Stephen.
Amelia drew her knees up to her chest. Why did everyone in this house clam up when she spoke of the Vincent Estate? Their expressions darkened and their temperaments changed. Amelia felt like an ostrich needing to hide her head in a hole. Perhaps the notion of visiting the estate should be cast aside along with all those other firsts she would never experience.
Pookie entered, and Amelia quit the nursery and headed to the parlor. She plopped onto the sofa and leaned her head back. The pattern on the ceiling matched the one in her room. One of these days she would find other things to fascinate her. Behind her someone cleared his throat.
Amelia (Southern Hearts Book 2) Page 6
