Tracie Peterson (13 page)

Swallowing hard, she took a nervous glance at her pocket watch. “Oh, my,” she declared, brushing off imaginary bits of flour and crumbs, “I must go. I promised I’d wake Margaret by seven.”

Mary nodded. “You go on now. I’ve had a good long rest.”

“Hardly that,” Amelia said and took off her apron. “I have been here three weeks and I have yet to see you rest at any time.”

“I saw it once,” Logan said conspiratorially, “but it was six years ago and Mary was down sick with a fever. She sat down for about ten minutes that day, but that was it.”

Amelia smiled in spite of herself. “I thought so. Thanks for the lesson, Mary. I’ll see you later.” She hurried from the room with a smile still brightening her face.

“Don’t forget,” Mary reminded, “you wanted to start quilting and this afternoon will be just fine for me.”

“All right. I should be free,” she replied over her shoulder.

“Hey, wait up a minute,” Logan called and joined her as she crossed from the lodge to the grassy cabin area.

Looking up, Amelia felt her pulse quicken. “What is it?”

“I was hoping you’d be interested in a hike with me. I thought you’d like to go on a real adventure.”

Amelia’s curiosity was piqued. “What did you have in mind?”

“Long’s Peak.”

“The mountain?”

Logan grinned. “The same. There’s quite a challenging climb up to the top. If you think you’re up to it, I could approach your father on the matter.”

“He’d never agree to such a thing.”

Logan’s smile faded. “He wouldn’t agree, or you don’t agree?”

Amelia felt a twinge of defensiveness but ignored it. She found herself honestly wishing she could hike up Long’s Peak with Logan Reed and to argue now wouldn’t help her case one bit. “Without an appropriate chaperone, Logan,” she said his name hoping to prove her willingness, “it would never be allowed.”

Logan cheered at this. “So what does it take to have an appropriate chaperone?”

“Someone like Mary or Lady Gambett.”

Logan nodded. “I guess I can understand that. I’ll work on it and let you know.”

Amelia saw him turn to go and found a feeling of deep dissatisfaction engulfing her. “Logan, wait.”

He turned back and eyed her questioningly. “Yes?”

“I’ve collected quite a variety of vegetation and flower samples and I thought, well actually I hoped—” she paused seeing that she held his interest. “I was too hasty in rejecting your offer of help. My father wanted me to accept and so now I’m asking if you would assist me in identifying my samples.”

“What made you change your mind?” he asked softly coming to stand only inches away. His eyes were dark and imploring and Amelia felt totally swallowed up in their depths.

“I’m not sure,” Amelia said, feeling very small and very vulnerable.

Logan’s lopsided grin made his entire face light up. “It doesn’t matter. I’d be happy to help you. When do you want to start?”

“How would this morning work out for you? Say, after the others have gone about their business?”

“That sounds good to me. I’ll meet you at the lodge.”

Amelia smiled and gave a little nod. It had been a very agreeable conclusion to their conversation. She watched Logan go off in the direction of the lodge and thought her heart would burst from the happiness she felt.
What was it? Why did she suddenly feel so light?
For weeks she had fought against her nature and her better judgment regarding Logan Reed. Now, giving in and accepting Logan’s help seemed to free rather than burden her.

She approached the cabin she’d been sharing with her sisters and grew wary at the sound of voices inside.

“Amelia is simply
awful.
She gives no consideration to family, or to poor Papa’s social standing.” It was Penelope, and Margaret quickly picked up the challenge.

“Amelia has never cared for anyone but Amelia. I think she’s hateful and selfish. Just look at the gowns she has to choose from and you and I must suffer through with only five apiece. I’m quite beside myself.”

“And all because Papa is trying to see her married to poor Jeffery. Why he doesn’t even love Amelia, and she certainly doesn’t love him. I overheard Papa tell him that he would give him not only a substantial dowry, but one of the Scottish estates, if only Jeffery could convince Amelia to marry him before we returned to England.”

“She’ll never agree to it,” Margaret replied haughtily. “She doesn’t care one whit what happens to the rest of us. She never bothers to consider what might make others happy. If she hurts Papa this way and ruins my season in London, I’ll simply die.”

Amelia listened to the bitter words of her sisters and felt more alone than she’d ever felt before. Her entire family saw her only as an obligation and a threat to their happiness.
Surely there is some way to convince them that I don’t care about the money. All I really want is a chance to fall in love and settle down with the right man.
Instantly Logan Reed’s image filled her mind and Amelia had to smile. She would truly scandalize her family if she suggested marriage to Mr. Reed.

The conversation inside the cabin once again drew her attention when Penelope’s whining voice seemed to raise an octave in despair. “I hate her! I truly do. She’s forced us to live as barbarians and traipse about this horrid country, and for what? So that she can scorn Sir Jeffery, a man in good standing with the queen herself?”

Amelia felt the bite of her sister’s words. She’d never considered her siblings to be close and dear friends, but now it was apparent that even a pretense of affection was out of the question. Hot tears came unbidden to her eyes and suddenly years of pent up emotion would no longer be denied.

“Oh, Mama,” she whispered, wiping desperately at her cheeks, “why did you leave me without love?” Gathering up her skirt, Amelia waited to hear no more. She ran for the coverage of the pines and aspens. She ran for the solitude of the mountainous haven that she’d grown to love.

Blinded by her own tears, Amelia fought her way through the underbrush of the landscape. She felt the biting sting of the branches as they slapped at her arms and face, but the pain they delivered was mild compared to the emptiness within her heart. Panting for air, Amelia collapsed beside a fallen spruce. Surrendering to her pain, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed long and hard.

It isn’t fair.
It wasn’t right that she should have to bear such a thing alone. Her mother had been the only person to truly care about her and now she was forever beyond her reach. A thought came to Amelia.
Perhaps a spiritualist could put her in touch with her mother’s spirit.
Then just as quickly as the thought came, Amelia banished it. In spite of the fact that spiritualists were all the rage in Europe and America, she didn’t believe in such things.
Life ended at the grave—didn’t it?

“I don’t know what to believe in anymore,” she muttered.

She was suddenly ashamed of herself and her life. She wasn’t really a snob, as Logan had presumed her to be. Her upbringing had demanded certain things of her, however. She didn’t have the same freedoms as women of lower classes. She wasn’t allowed to frolic about and laugh in public. She wasn’t allowed to speak her mind in mixed company, or to have her opinion considered with any real concern once it was spoken. Amelia found herself envying Mary and her simple but hard life here in the Rocky Mountains. The men around Mary genuinely revered and cared for her. Her husband had no reason to fear when he took a party out hunting, because everyone looked out for Mary.

I wish I could be more like her
, Amelia thought, tears pouring anew from her eyes. She’d not cried this much since her mother’s passing. Mother was like Mary. Amelia could still see her mother working with her flowers in the garden wearing a large straw bonnet cocked to one side to shield her from the sun, and snug, mud-stained gloves kept her hands in ladylike fashion. Amelia traced the fingers of her own hands, realizing that she’d forgotten her gloves.
Oh, Mama, what am I to do?

Looking up, Amelia was startled to find Logan sitting on a log not ten feet away. “What are you doing here?” she asked, dabbing at her eyes with the edge of her skirt.

“I saw you run up here and got worried that something was wrong. Generally, folks around here don’t run like their house is on fire—unless it is.” He gave her only a hint of a smile.

Amelia offered him no explanation. It was too humiliating even to remember her sister’s words, much less bring them into being again by relating them to Logan.

Seeming to sense her distress, Logan leaned back and put his hands behind his head. He looked for all the world as though he’d simply come out for a quiet moment in the woods. “There’s an old Ute Indian saying that starts out, ‘I go to the mountain where I take myself to heal, the earthly wounds that people give to me.’ I guess you aren’t the first person to come seeking solace, eh?”

“I’m not seeking anything,” Amelia replied, feeling very vulnerable knowing that Logan had easily pegged her emotions.

“We’re all seeking something, Amelia,” Logan said without a hint of reprimand. “We’re all looking to find things to put inside to fill up the empty places. Some people look for it in a place, others in things, some in people.” His eyes pierced her soul and Amelia looked away as he continued. “Funny thing is, there’s only so much you can fill up with earthly things. There’s an empty place and a void inside that only God can fill and some folks never figure that out.”

“You forget, Mr. Reed,” she said in protected haughtiness, “I don’t believe in the existence of God.” The words sounded hollow even to Amelia.

Logan shrugged. “You’re sitting in the middle of all this beauty and you still question the existence of God?”

“I’ve been among many wonders of the world, Mr. Reed. I’ve traveled the Alps, as well as your Rockies, and found them to be extraordinarily beautiful as well. What I did not find was God. I find no proof of an almighty being in the wonders of the earth. They are simple, scientifically explained circumstances. They are nothing more than the visual representation of the geological forces at work in this universe. It certainly doesn’t prove the existence of God.” She paused to look at him quite seriously. “If it did, then I would have to counter with a question of my own.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, if the beauty of the earth proclaims the existence of God, then why doesn’t the savagery and horrors of the world do as much to denounce His existence? This God you are so fond of quoting and believing in must not amount to much if He stands idly by to watch the suffering of His supposed creation. I’ve seen the beauty of the world, Mr. Reed, but so, too, have I seen many of its tragedies and injustices. I’ve been in places where mothers murder their children rather than watch them starve to death slowly. I’ve seen old people put to death because they are no longer useful to their culture. I’ve beheld squalor and waste just as surely as I’ve seen tranquility and loveliness, and none of it rises up to assure me of God’s existence.”

“Granted, there’s a lot wrong in this world, but what about the forces of evil? Don’t you think evil can work against good and interfere with God’s perfect plan? When people stray from the truth, the devil has the perfect opportunity to step in and stir up all kinds of chaos.”

“Then your God isn’t very strong, is He?” She lifted her chin a little higher. “As I recall, the devil you believe exists is a fallen angel named Lucifer. Is not your God more powerful than a fallen angel? Don’t you see, Mr. Reed, these are nothing more than stories designed to make mankind feel better about itself and the world. The poor man trudges through life believing that even though he has nothing on earth, he will have a celestial mansion when he dies. A rather convenient way of bolstering spirits and keeping one’s nose to the grindstone, don’t you think?”

Logan shook his head. “You’re talking about something you obviously know very little about. An eternal home in heaven isn’t all the repentant sinner has to look forward to.”

“No?” She looked away as though studying the trees around them. “I suppose you will tell me that he can pray and have his desires magically met by a benevolent God who wants His children to live in abundance and earthly wealth.”

“Not at all. God isn’t in charge of some heavenly mercantile where you step in and order up whatever your little heart wants. No, Amelia, I’m talking about living in truth. Knowing that you are following the path God would have you travel, and in knowing that, you will find the satisfaction of truth, faithfulness, peace, and love.”

“Oh, please,” Amelia said meeting his eyes. “This is all religious rhetoric and you know it. The fact of the matter is that truth is completely in the heart and mind of the person or persons involved. I see the truth as one thing and you obviously see it as another. Do not believe I’m any less satisfied for the things I believe in, because I assure you I am not.” She bit her lip and looked away. She could hardly bear to meet his expression, knowing that deep inside, the things she believed in were not the least bit satisfying.

As if reading her mind, Logan sat up and said, “I feel sorry for you Amelia. You are afraid to consider the possibility that there is a God, because considering it might force you to reckon with yourself.”