Amelia (20 page)

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Authors: Bernadette Marie

Tags: #new opportunity, #Bernadette Marie, #loss, #5 Prince Publishing, #Contemporary, #romance

BOOK: Amelia
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Amelia had a great appreciation for a good storm. It was like temper brewing and that was something she understood very well.

When she was a young girl and there was thunder her friends would say it was angels bowling. She, however, thought of it as gun fire—her mother's gunfire.

It made her feel as if her mother were protecting her, no matter where in the world she was. She felt her, just as Penelope felt her grandmother, but neither of them felt Adam.

When lightning would streak the sky with its brilliance Amelia actually smiled. She imagined fairies dancing with traces of light. Even as an adult she could refocus her mind to keep her calm. It was a good thing. This year her calm had been tested.

She pulled up in front of the townhouse she now shared with Sam. She smiled wide. The other townhouse had been available for weeks, she knew that. But Sam hadn't mentioned it and she'd grown so comfortable that she didn't want to leave.

She locked the door to her truck as a thunderous bolt of lightning crashed through the sky and the ground shook with the reply.

The air was full of electricity and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

She hurried up the steps and as she opened the front door a gust of wind blew it out of her hand sending it back and through the wall.

Sam hurried out of the kitchen, a huge knife in his hand and an apron with the depiction of Superman's body covering his own.

"Jesus, are you okay?"

Amelia pushed the door shut and went about assessing the damage where the doorknob had punched through the drywall.

"I'm fine, but the wall didn't fare as well."

Sam walked to her, the knife still gripped in his hand. "Flesh wound."

"Good thing we're becoming experts on home improvement."

He laughed and she examined him with the knife and the apron.

"What are you doing in there?"

"Dinner. Steaks. Potatoes. Salad."

She gave the apron a tug. "What's with this?"

"My sister's humor. Cute huh?”

She pressed her lips together. “I certainly like the Clark Kent look. The Superman is equally as interesting.”

Amelia moved in and laid her lips to his.

“We could hold off on dinner,” he said, his voice deep and resonating with a sexy vibration that had her skin tingle.

“As appealing as that is,” she swallowed hard trying to pull herself back into the moment. “Perhaps you should put the weapon down.”

Sam laughed. “Well if I have to go in there and set the knife down we’d better just eat. Especially since you came home early and if I don’t get this cooked soon I’ll be doing it in a storm.”

Another roll of thunder shook the house. “You’d better take an umbrella out there with you. I’ll help you with that salad.”

 

Amelia thought she’d never tire of cooking with Sam in the kitchen. Nor would she ever want to sleep in another bed. The storm had settled but the air was still thick. She’d opened the window before she climbed into bed and Sam wrapped his arm around her.

He lingered a kiss on her neck. “This bed never was as comfortable as it has been for the past few weeks.”

“Oh, yeah?” She said with her voice airy and soft.

“It needed a woman in it. It needed you.”

She rolled to face him. His arm remained around her. “I was just thinking how I can’t imagine ever sleeping anywhere else.”

His eyes were closed, but he smiled a smile which squeezed at her heart. “That townhouse has been vacant for weeks,” he said.

She bit down on her lip. “It has, huh? I suppose I should think about getting out of here.”

Sam’s arm pulled her in tighter to him, his eyes still closed. “Rent is cheaper here.”

“Food is better here too. In my condo I used to only eat over the sink.”

Sam nuzzled his nose against hers as the curtains began to blow in the breeze. “So did I until you came along.”

“Maybe I’d better stay a while longer then. I mean I’d hate for you to go back to your old ways,” she rubbed her lips against his.

“I don’t run.”

Amelia pulled back from him and studied the humor on his face. “What does that mean?”

He opened his eyes slightly. “Don’t expect me to get up and go running with you. I don’t run.”

“I don’t do yoga.”

“Okay, then we’re set. You’re staying—forever.”

She watched him, but he remained calm and casual, but her body had tensed. Had he noticed? Was he just making small talk?

Why was she worrying about it? Hadn’t she said to herself that she didn’t want to go anywhere else?

Sam rolled her to her back and looked down at her. “I just said, we’re set and you’re staying forever.”

“I heard you. I’m wrapping my head around that. It’s exactly what I want.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” He reached his hand under her pillow.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for this,” he said as he pulled out a ring and held it up in the dim light.

Amelia tried to sit up, but he was on top of her. Okay, she wasn’t trying hard enough. It wouldn’t take but the slightest bit of a shove upward to send him flying. But she looked at the shimmering object he held between his fingers which caught the moonlight.

“Sam, what is that? What are you doing?”

“I bought you a gift.”

“That’s a ring.”

She could see the white of his teeth as he smiled. “You’re right. It is.”

“Why? Why do you have that?”

“I wanted you to wear it.”

“I said not to propose. I said I loved you, but you said you wouldn’t propose.”

“I don’t think I did.”

Now she moved. She locked her legs tightly around him and rolled him onto his back.

He let out a grunt. “What? You don’t like it?”

“I don’t want to like it.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

She rose up and looked down at him pulling the ring from his hand. “You bought me a ring and want to know if I like it?”

“And I want to know if you’ll stay forever.”

“That’s two questions.”

“Yes, but I didn’t propose.”

He was grinning. Damn it—he was grinning.

“You want to marry me?”

Sam sat up to meet her and wrapped his arms around her. His hands pressed against her back and his breath skimmed her skin as he brushed a kiss against her neck.

“You drive a hard bargain, but I’ll marry you.”

“What?”

“You just asked if I wanted to marry you. I do.” He kissed her again as the wind blew through the room and the curtains snapped. “You just proposed to me.”

“Sam! You…you…tricked me.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. Don’t you want me to marry you?”

“Yes I want to marry you…”

“Good. Then this is settled—again.” He took the ring from the hand where she gripped it and slid it on her finger. “Much better.”

She was fuming. She felt it. It was about to burst out of her just like the roll of thunder outside the window. But the ring caught the moonlight. It shimmered.

Amelia looked down at Sam who, bright eyed, smiled at her. “It looks nice on you.”

“Sam…”

“Now don’t go crying.”

It wasn’t the emotion she thought would burst through, but it was. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “You didn’t propose.”

“Nope, you did.”

Now a laugh broke through as the curtains blew harder in the window. “I did.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You’re going to marry me. And not because it’s just something to do. You love me.”

“Oh, honey, I do love you.”

“Well then,” she lowered him to the bed and moved her mouth against his. “I’m glad you agreed to marry me.”

Sam pulled her closer and opened his mouth to her kiss. His tongue moved to dance with hers and her breath began to grow thick like the air in the room.

The curtains slapped into the room and against the wind. Hail began pelting the house with an abusive force. Amelia sat up and moved off the bed.

As she reached the windows the tornado warning sirens in town began to blare.

She looked toward Sam who jumped from the bed, grabbed her hand, and his cell phone. He hit the flashlight on the phone and pulled her though the hall, down the stairs, and to the basement.

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Sam pushed through the boxes he stored in the basement and pulled Amelia under the staircase.

“Get down! Cover your head!” he yelled over the freight train sound as he crouched down next to her and covered her with his body.

He could hear the wind pick up and he was fairly sure he could hear the patio chairs being thrown against the outside of the house.

Amelia covered her ears and Sam kept his body atop of hers.

The noise was horrific, but Sam knew they weren’t in the midst of the major part of the tornado. He’d been through more warnings, sirens, and actual tornados than he’d like to count.

He could smell the upturned earth just outside, but the air suddenly stilled.

Sam eased off of Amelia slightly.

“Is it over?” she asked.

He could feel her tremble beneath him. “Sounds like it, but we sit here for a few more minutes.”

She nodded raising her head slowly. Sam sat back on his heels and listened. The air had gone still and the night was quiet and dark. There were no sounds in the house.

“Power’s off,” he said in a whisper.

“Did it touch down?” Amelia sat back on her heels.

“I don’t know.” He stood and held his hand out to her. “Let’s go upstairs and see if we can see anything.”

As they crested the stairs he couldn’t see any immediate damage. He walked slowly toward the back door and confirmed that the grill was across the yard and the furniture had been thrown. That, he thought, was pretty lucky.

He could see flashlights in the neighborhood as people began to move about assessing damage.

“Do you have your phone?” he asked.

She looked around. “I set it on the kitchen table.” She walked across the dark room, illuminated only by his cellphone light. “I have it.”

“Check the news channel feeds. See what it says.”

Amelia pulled up her phone’s browser and typed in the local news channel.

The warnings, the weather—the touchdown.

“It did. It touched down.” She scanned the story. “It stayed out of town, but touched down on the northwest side of Parson’s Gulch.”

Her head rose and he knew that moment that they were thinking the same thing.

“Call. Get them on the phone. Get your shoes. We’re heading over there,” he said, heading to slip on his shoes and get his car keys.

 

Amelia jumped into Sam’s truck and pushed the contact button for Penelope for the third time. And for the third time it went to voice mail just as Vivian’s had done the four times earlier.

Sam backed out of the driveway and started toward Vivian’s.

There were downed power lines and trees. A few houses had blown out windows, but there didn’t seem to be a path of where the tornado traveled. At least in the headlights of Sam’s truck they couldn’t see anything—that was until they were within a mile of Vivian’s house.

Trees were uprooted. Cars had been tossed. The church on the corner was missing part of its roof.

Amelia’s heart began to pound in her chest. “Oh, God. Hurry. Hurry.”

“I’ll get there. Just keep trying them.”

The air was thick and smelled of mud. Amelia tried to suck in as much as she could with her shirt pressed to her nose.

As Sam turned down Vivian’s street he slowed. “I don’t think it touched down here, but it was close.”

Debris covered the street and he had to stop the truck. “We have to go on foot.”

He pulled a Maglite flashlight out from under his seat. He stepped out of his truck. Amelia followed.

They walked down the dark street. There was a car on its side. Every trash can and lawn chair had been blown out of the yards.

As they reached Vivian’s corner, Amelia gripped Sam’s arm. “Oh, God!” She took off running and he kept up right behind her. The light from his flashlight and the slightest sliver of the moon shined down to illuminate the house.

A tree had collapsed into the side of it. Amelia knew that it was the kitchen and living room which were damaged and all she could hope for was that if they were in that house they were in the bedroom.

“Vivian! Penelope! Emma! Ava!” She screamed as she made it to the front of the house and up to the door. “It’s locked! It’s locked!” She turned to Sam. “Go around back.”

They carefully made it around the house yelling for the four of them with no response.

Amelia had nerves of steel, but when she saw the sliding back door smashed in she felt sick. “We have to get in there.”

“We will,” Sam said as he looked around the yard with his flashlight. He shined it against the fence. “There’s a chair. Hold this.” He handed her the flashlight and she shined it so he could get through the yard.

“Hurry.”

She yelled for them again. But still there was no answer.

Sam hurried back with the chair. “Move. Cover your eyes.”

He took the chair and gave it a mighty swing through the glass. Shards flew into the house and the bigger pieces that were already broken crashed to the ground.

Sam took his foot and kicked in the rest so they could climb through.

When they were both in the house he shined the light around. “Are they even home?”

“It’s ten o’clock at night. They have to be home.” She felt her way through the dining room. The furniture was thrown through the house as if someone had ransacked the place. Pieces of the ceiling hung in the kitchen, but she knew they hadn’t been in there.

“Vivian! Penelope!” She headed down the hall. “All of the bedroom doors are open. The beds are made.”

Sam moved to the window. “Penelope’s car is outside. Against the neighbor’s.”

Amelia yelled again and this time when she did her phone rang in her hand.

“Vivian! Where are you? Are you hurt? Where are the girls and Penelope?”

“Jesus, Amelia. We’re fine. We’re at the old house. We were working on it.”

“You’re okay? God,” she said to Sam. “They’re okay.”

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