Amelia's Journey (10 page)

After dinner, Mr. Carlyle and Grandpapa retreated to his study, more than likely to enjoy a pipe and coffee. Ben followed with his heart in his throat. He needed to know exactly how he stood with Mr. Carlyle. Ma, Grandmama, and Mrs. Carlyle disappeared into the parlor, and Mary Beth led Amelia to the library.

“Mr. Carlyle, may I have a word with you?” Ben grabbed the back of a chair to support his wobbly legs.

“Does it concern my daughter?”

The pinched expression on his face didn't bode well, but Ben plunged ahead. “Yes, sir, I would like your permission to call on her next time I am in Boston.” Ben's chest tightened and his breathing halted.

“Because you live in Kansas, I don't believe that is a good idea. Therefore I must say no.”

Ben's breath escaped in a puff of disappointment, but the set of Mr. Carlyle's jaw warned Ben not to argue. He blinked, gulped once, and nodded. “Yes, sir, I understand.” He didn't really, but he turned and left the room. In the hallway he slumped against the door until stubbornness washed over him. He pulled himself up to his full height. Somehow he'd find a way to change Mr. Carlyle's mind. In the meantime, he had this last afternoon with Amelia, and he didn't intend for it to go to waste.

He strolled into the library, his emotions now under control. Amelia and Mary Beth sat on the sofa, chatting. He rubbed his hands together. “I hate to interrupt, but what shall we do this fine afternoon?”

“I was just telling Amelia that Grandpapa informed me at dinner that he has given permission for Andrew Farnsworth to call on me this afternoon. I'm sure he'll be here momentarily, and then we can enjoy the stereopticon in the library.”

Amelia's eyes sparkled with delight. “Isn't that wonderful, Ben? Andrew is a lucky young man.”

Ben's eyes opened wide. If Mary Beth had a young man here, that may mean she wouldn't be coming back to Kansas. Pa would never allow her to stay here permanently, would he? She'd be too far away from her family. Then a painful jolt of realization struck his heart. He wanted Amelia to do that same thing to her own family! How could he ask her to leave behind everyone she loved?

The butler appeared with Andrew behind him. “Mr. Farnsworth is here to see you, Miss Haynes.”

“Do come in, Andrew,” Mary Beth said. “You remember my brother, and of course you know Miss Carlyle.”

Ben shook Andrew's hand, taking note of his perfect grooming. Not a hair of his blond hair was out of place, and his blue eyes lit up when he spoke to Mary Beth. Ben smiled in greeting. This young man was indeed smitten.

Andrew returned the greeting then turned to Mary Beth. “I consider it a great honor to spend time with you this afternoon.”

Mary Beth grasped his arm and led him to the library where they settled into two chairs by the fireplace to look at the stereopticon. Amelia sat on the sofa and glanced his way. What could he possibly say to her?

He stood by the window and stared out at his grandparents' garden, now in full bloom with the colors of fall. Yellow, gold, and bronze chrysanthemums filled the flower beds, and the roses burst forth in a last blaze of color. So alive now, but soon frost would come, and the garden would go dormant for the season. Would his love for Amelia have to do the same?

Movement caught his eye. He turned his head to find Amelia standing next to him.

“The worry lines in your face trouble me. What has happened to cause such woe? We have so little time left that we must put aside our worries and savor the minutes.”

His throat tightened. “Amelia, I have been hasty in stating my feelings for you. I should have waited to discuss them with your father. I see now that asking you to come to Kansas is more than I should have done. It wasn't fair to bare my soul to you knowing that your father wouldn't approve, and now that he has officially said no, I don't want to come between you and your parents.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, and he wanted to reach out to hug her close and wipe them away, but he must stand firm.

She blinked her eyes and moistened her lips before speaking. Her brown eyes became deep pools in which he could very well drown. He turned away, but she grasped his arm.

“Ben, I know Papa doesn't really approve our seeing each other as anything but friends, but did he say you could not write to me? Could we not at least write and get to know each other better?”

Her words gave him hope, and he reached for her hand. “I think we can do that. For now, let's not think about my leaving, but enjoy the time we have. Whatever happens in the coming year will be in God's hands.”

“Yes, and we must hold on to that.” Amelia squeezed his hand and grinned up at him. “Now, let's confiscate that magic lantern from Mary Beth and Andrew and look at the pictures.” She pulled him toward the couple now sitting and staring at each other.

Ben gulped and jerked his head. The way Andrew now gazed at Mary Beth reflected Ben's own feelings for Amelia. God sure had a strange way of doing things. If He could take one girl out of Kansas and plant her in Boston, would He then turn around and replace her by transplanting a flower of Boston into Kansas? He could only hope it would be so.

Chapter 10

T
wo weeks since the cotillion, and still no letter from Ben. He had warned her that this was a busy time on the ranch, so she'd have to be patient and wait for him to write. Mary Beth had received a note from her mother just this week letting the family know she and Ben had arrived safely back in Kansas.

At least Papa had said nothing about Ben since the Sunday they'd been at the Haynes's home for dinner. He expected her to be courted by Philip Barlow and to follow through with marriage, just as her sister had done before her.

This evening she would please her father by allowing Philip to escort her to a play at the Globe Theater. Some of the finest names in the theater played there, or so she had been told. Theater had never been one of her major interests, and she hadn't recognized the names even after Philip explained who they were. Perhaps she should have shown more interest in such things, but literature and music were more to her liking.

A knock on the door announced Maeleen's arrival. “Mr. Barlow has arrived. He is waiting in the parlor.”

“Thank you, Maeleen. You may inform him that I'll be down momentarily.”

The young woman left, and Amelia checked her appearance one last time. She must not let thoughts of Ben interfere with tonight, but that would take much effort and a great deal of attention paid to one Philip Barlow. This may be only the second time he'd called on her, but even so, leading him on to believe he may have a chance at winning her hand seemed rather cruel to her. Papa insisted that she give Philip a chance, and she would, but after a few more weeks, the relationship must be ended. Any one of the other young ladies would welcome his attention.

Once again after dinner Ben retreated to the stables. Blackie snuffled and snorted when Ben drew near the stall. He reached out his hand and stroked the horse's forelock. “Hey, boy, it's just me come to visit for a while.”

A pitchfork hung on a nail near the stall, so Ben picked it up and began redistributing the hay around Blackie's feet. “Don't know why I can talk to you and say all the things I want to say to Amelia, but I have a blank mind when I try to write anything down.”

He paused and leaned on the handle. “I love her so much, and I know she'd love it here in Kansas. We could ride across the range with the wind in our faces and see God's beauty all around us. She'd make our home a wonderful place to live and bring up a family.”

For the past five days he'd tried to put on paper his thoughts and feelings, but nothing came. Yet, here in the stables, he could talk to Blackie like an old friend. He ground his teeth and attacked the hay with his pitchfork. His anger at himself and frustration with the situation shortened the time it usually took to muck a stall.

He hung the tool back on its hook and decided to ride Blackie out to the north range and check with the boys standing guard tonight. The cows were at a good winter weight, and all of the new calves had been weaned and moved with the others to winter grass fields where they'd have water and feed to last through the cold season. He'd be on duty tomorrow rounding up a few strays, checking on the cows expecting calves in early spring, and generally keeping an eye out for any problems.

After he saddled Blackie, Ben shoved his arms into his heavier jacket. The nights had grown colder, and a hint of frost filled the air with a bite that cut through his usual apparel. He mounted his horse and headed out. The cloudless sky meant colder temperatures for the night, but it also meant the stars sprinkled the sky like the sugar coating on Ma's cinnamon cookies.

He drew near to the old mill on the stream running through the ranch. The weathered boards gleamed like silver in the moonlight. This was his favorite spot on the ranch. As a young boy he'd ridden out here several times a week during the summer to read, think, and contemplate his future.

That future had always included the ranch, but not until his trip back to Boston had it involved a girl. All that had changed in one brief visit to his grandparents' home.

The land he wanted for a ranch house was just up the hill from the mill. It'd be a great spot that looked out over the range lands and plains of Kansas. Amelia would love it as much as he did. He pictured her now standing in the yard waiting for him to come home. Flowers filled beds around the porch with vivid color, and a vegetable garden added to the scene with its produce ready to be harvested.

A dream maybe, but one he hoped would become a reality by this time next year. The murmuring of the water as it passed the paddle wheel filled the night air with a peaceful sound that calmed and quieted Ben's soul. This place always had that effect on him, and he welcomed the peace it brought. Some day he'd have that wheel turning again just for the beauty of it.

Doubt replaced the peace and shrouded his heart. He loved Kansas and couldn't think of living anywhere else. Boston was Amelia's home, and now he expected her to leave and journey west. What if it was the other way around? Could he leave Kansas? Confusion once again filled his heart. How could he ask her to do something he wasn't willing to do himself? With no answer to that forthcoming, he headed for the range.

Ten minutes later he arrived at the cattle site. Steve Harris, one of the ranch hands, rode up to greet him. “Evening, Ben. What brings you out on this cold night? Don't you have watch tomorrow?”

“I do, but I need to clear my head and figured a ride in the cold would do it. How are things here?” He glanced over to where a fire had been built. Several other men sat around the flames warming their hands and drinking coffee.

“Quiet so far. Hope it stays that way.”

Ben followed him a little ways, his breath frosty in the chill of the air. Thankful for his sheepskin coat, he pulled the collar higher on his neck. “How soon do you think we'll have snow?”

“Hard to tell. It's only mid October, but I've seen frost in the early mornings, so the temperature's getting lower every day. Don't think it'll be here before Thanksgiving. That should give us time to birth a few more calves. That extra feed your Pa bought will help fatten them up for winter.”

Ben only nodded and remained quiet, listening to the night sounds of the herd. A coyote's mournful howl sounded in the distance, and the wind rustled the grasses. “Steve, what do you think about that piece of land by the old grist mill for a house?”

“That's good land there, but if you want a house, build it high so the flash floods along that creek don't wash it away.” He paused a moment and peered at Ben. “What do you want to build a house for anyways?”

“Pa's making me a partner next year, and I'm thinking it's time for me to find a wife and settle down as a rancher. With all the talk about how the Kansas Centennial exhibit in Philadelphia is gonna bring in more settlers, I want to get my piece and get it ready. Pa bought that land when the Grahams moved away after the grasshopper plague killed all their crops.”

“You planning any crops for yourself?”

“Don't know about that. I like ranching and working with the cattle.” With the new barbed wire now being used for fences, he could probably set aside a piece to grow crops for provisions like Ma and Aunt Clara had done.

“Who's the little filly you have in mind for a bride?” Steve turned his horse back toward the campfire. “Is it that pretty little dressmaker's daughter in town?”

Ben rode beside Steve and waited a minute before answering. “No, it's nobody here. I met up again with a girl I knew as a kid back in Boston. Her parents and mine grew up together. She was almost thirteen when I last saw her until this past August. She's turned into a mighty pretty young woman.”

Steve's long, low whistle echoed in the night air. He pushed his hat back on his head and turned to stare at Ben. “You planning on getting a Boston girl to come out here and live on a ranch where she won't have servants and others at her beck and call?”