Amon (19 page)

“Do you two always banter like this?” Nettie asked.

“Naw, usually we fight over pie at the saloon,” Jasper told her with a wink.

“Jasper’s goal in life is to make a pie better than Mrs. Dunnigan’s or Mrs. Upton’s,” Amon said. “Neither one knows that Jasper’s plotting against them in secret.”

Cutty laughed. “Jasper sometimes lets me test his creations.”

“Yes, except he takes the whole pie if he can get away with it,” Jasper groused.

“How’s your coffee?” Amon asked Nettie, interrupting them.

She took a small sip. “It’s delicious.”

He offered her a smile. “Good. I … I was planning on coming into town later, but since you’re here … would you care to take a walk with me?”

Everyone’s eyes darted between the two as they waited for her answer.

“I’d love to,” she said demurely.

“A splendid idea,” Newton agreed, speaking for the first time. “I’m sure you two have much to talk about,” he added, giving his sister a pointed look.

She paled. “Yes,” she said weakly. “I’d love to know how long it would take to build a house. Just this morning I asked Newton about it.”

“I’d be happy to hazard a guess for you,” Amon said with a smile. He drained his cup, stood and held out a hand to her. She took it and he helped her from her chair. This time he offered her his arm and when she took it, they left the cabin.

“Well?” Newton said as he eyed Cutty. “Aren’t you going with them?”

Cutty’s eyes drifted toward the stove. “Um …”

“Tarnation, Cutty,” Jasper groaned. “I’ll save you a loaf.”

“In that case, I’ll see ya two later – I got chaperonin’ to do!” He hurried from the cabin and caught sight of Amon and Nettie over by the barn. Since they weren’t going anywhere at the moment, he plopped down on the porch steps and continued to enjoy the sweet smells coming from the cabin. He closed his eyes a moment …

… and an image of the Baron standing over Nettie with a horse crop in his hand flashed before him. Good grief! Did he ever beat her? Did the poor girl have whip marks on her back? What if he’d locked her in the cellar at night? What horrible details of their lives had they not told him? He shuddered at the thoughts and opened his eyes, trying to focus on the task at hand.

But Amon and Nettie were gone.

Eighteen

Amon and Nettie, on the other side of the barn, were looking at several finished pieces of woodwork, including the head and foot boards for a bed. “Well? What do you think?” he asked.

“My,” she told him, “they’re absolutely stunning!” And indeed they were. The top of each bedpost had been carved into a pinecone, the posts themselves adorned with carvings of the flowers she’d seen in Amon’s meadow. “Who did you make these for?”

He took her other hand and looked into her eyes. “At the time I made them I had no idea who they were for. Usually I do. But these … I just had to make them.”

She blushed, and it warmed him inside. “Do you know now?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice softened. “I believe I do.”

She swallowed hard, tried to look away, but couldn’t break from his gaze. He felt it, sensed it and had to marvel at it. How could he hold her with a mere look? How could anyone? But he knew that was exactly what he was doing.

She relaxed – he felt that too – and watched her take a step toward him. “It’s a beautiful piece of work.”

“I’ve made the frame as well,” he whispered. “It’s in the barn …”

She took another step closer, and Amon could feel his body fill with …
something.
“I’d love to see them.”

He nodded, unable to speak, his senses now lost within their gaze. What was happening to him?
Good grief,
he thought to himself,
am I in love with her?
It’s far too early for that, isn’t it? Land sakes, I’ve only known her for a week at most.
But something in his heart – and deeper – seemed to absorb her company the way a body absorbed nutrients, food. It was the closest explanation he had in that moment.

Or maybe not an explanation, but a
realization.
He’d get a similar feeling when he was creating something, or when he found the perfect tree to create from. For some unexplainable reason, Nettie Whitman made him feel whole, satisfied. And he wanted more of it.

“Tarnation!” Cutty said as he rounded the corner of the barn. “How can I chaperone the two of ya when ya take off like that?”

Amon and Nettie slowly turned their heads, each having a hard time taking their eyes from the other. Amon was able to first. “I wasn’t planning on going much further than this.”

“How’m I supposed to know that?” Cutty groused.

Amon looked over the expanse of prairie beyond and the trees dotted here and there. “Well, it’s not like you’d lose sight of us, now is it?”

“I’m just doing my job!” he shot back.

Amon turned back to Nettie and gave her hands a squeeze. “As am I.” He cocked his head to one side then the other as he studied her. His eyes roamed her face for a moment, then fixated on her lips. “Nettie …” came out a whisper.

She drew close, their gaze deepening. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't. Amon knew that feeling well.

“Uh, Jasper's got cinnamon bread,” Cutty announced, turning to leave. “Nothin’ better than hot cinnamon bread fresh outta the oven.” He stopped when he got no response and glanced over his shoulder. Nettie and Amon’s bodies were touching! Cutty yelped in alarm and headed straight for them. “Now see here, Cotter!”

Amon’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowed slightly and a low growl escaped him.

Cutty stopped dead in his tracks. “Well, ya don’t have to get snippy about it! It’s just cinnamon bread!”

Amon’s face relaxed, and his eyes went wide. “Good grief!” He shook his head. “I don’t know what happened to me. I’m sorry, Cutty. That wasn’t a very nice thing to do.”

“Ya get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or what?” Cutty walked over to Nettie, grabbed one of her hands and pulled her away from him. “Come on, let’s go get some bread.”

Nettie, still unable to speak, let herself be yanked back to the cabin. Amon stood and watched them go, still puzzling over his automatic – and visceral – reaction to Cutty’s approach. Some primal instinct had risen up out of nowhere, its only intent to claim and keep what was his. Nettie …

He shook his head again. May be there really
was
something wrong with him and he needed to pay another visit to Doc Drake. He’d caught himself doing more than a few strange things around this woman, and was having feelings he’d never experienced before. Was this how love worked?

Still, how could he be falling in love with someone he barely knew and had hardly spent time with? But … their day in the meadow had been one of the most wonderful of his life, and it had all stemmed from doing a few simple things with her. What would happen, he wondered, if he did something fantastic? Though what that would be, he had no idea …

He shook himself from his reverie, got his feet moving and headed back to the cabin. The others were already inside, and who knows what Cutty was complaining about to Nettie’s brother. He really should speak with someone more versed in affairs of the heart, but who? Newton wasn’t married, and neither was Cutty. There was always Seth and Ryder …

The note! Amon stopped and searched his pockets. He found it and pulled it out. He needed to get it to Seth or his brother, and to do that he’d have to go into town –

An image of a church flashed before him, he and Nettie standing before Preacher Jo, taking their vows. But for some reason, it didn’t seem right. Something was missing. But what? He let his mind wander in hopes the image would come again, and tried to memorize the scene before it disappeared …

… oh, that was it. In his mind's eye there were no other people – only he and Nettie – and it wasn’t Preacher Jo officiating. He couldn’t see the preacher’s face, but his clothes were in tatters, his skin dark. “What?” he said aloud.

He rubbed his eyes to erase the image, but it wouldn’t go away. “What did I eat?” he muttered. Maybe something at breakfast had affected his mind – either that or this love business was driving him around the bend. He shook his head again, then went up the porch steps and into the cabin.

“Sit down, Amon,” Jasper instructed. “Just took the bread out of the oven a few minutes ago.”

Amon sat and watched as Cutty slathered butter over a hot slice. He took a generous bite, smiled, closed his eyes and shivered with pleasure. The man did like his food.

He watched as Nettie and her brother each took a slice and did the same, sans the shaking. He picked one for himself as Jasper sat. “Well?” the old man asked. “What do ya think?”

Cutty smacked his lips. “It ain’t the same as that harpy Dunnigan’s. Different flavor. But I like it better. Heavy on the cinnamon.”

“It’s quite good,” Newton said with a smile. “You’ll have to give Nettie the recipe.”

Nettie froze, her hand halfway to her mouth to take a bite. “Me?”

“You can handle cinnamon bread, I’m sure,” he said.

Amon stared at her, wondering if he’d be able to look at anything else. “I thought she didn’t bake.”

“I bake a little,” she told him haltingly. “I can hold my own.”

“She can do more than hold her own,” Newton said and reached for his coffee cup. “Ow!”

Nettie sent her brother a glare along with a tiny shake of her head. “Let me do it in my own time,” she whispered.

What was she talking about?
Amon wondered. She’d obviously just kicked her brother under the table, but why? And what did bread have to do with it?

“Very well, but I suggest you do it soon,” Newton told her then took another slice.

“Do what?” Amon asked.

“Nothing,” she was quick to say. “At least, nothing to discuss this very moment. Let’s enjoy our bread and coffee while we can.”

Cutty looked up as he licked his fingers. “While we can? Ya mean there ain’t no more?”

“Sure there’s more,” Jasper informed him. “Stop your bellyachin’.”

“That’s just it,” Cutty said. “Your bread keeps my belly from achin’. Heck,
I’d
like to learn how you make it.”

“I’d teach ya just so ya’d stop bothering me!”

Nettie giggled. “I never thought I’d see two men arguing over bread baking.”

“Well, now you have,” Cutty said.

“Maybe you should have Mrs. Dunnigan and Mrs. Upton teach you a recipe or two,” Amon suggested.

“When I’m done with this chaperonin’ business I might just do that.”

“And,” Nettie said, drumming her fingers on the table, “when will that be?” She gave Amon a pointed look.

Amon was caught off-guard. “Well … when would you like it to be?”

“I …” Nettie looked down at her lap. “I apologize. I did not mean to rush us.”

“There’s no rush.”

“Of course not,” she said nervously. “Why would there be?”

Amon sat back in his chair and stared at her a moment. “Would you care to go for a walk?”

“I thought that was what we were doing earlier,” she said, then looked at Cutty. “Before we were interrupted.”

“Well, ya did get to try some of the best bread in the state, didn’t ya?” Cutty countered.

Nettie smiled and nodded, then turned to Amon. “I’d love to go for a walk.”

He got up, took a deep breath, then went around to her side of the table and offered her his hand. As soon as she touched it, a shiver ran through him, and he had a sense that something deep down inside of him was coming to life. He noticed it was stronger this time, and wondered if that would be the case each time he touched her. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling by any means – but it certainly was when the contact was broken.
I am in so much trouble
, he thought to himself as he escorted her toward the door. What if he
was
in love?

Cutty wiped his mouth, stood and grabbed one last slice of bread. “I’m a-comin’, I’m a-comin’ – don’t leave without me.” Amon, already on the porch with Nettie, waited for him to catch up. “Okay, you two, let’s go!”

Amon began to walk, not caring where they went so long as Nettie’s hand was in his. The odd sensation he was somehow merging with the beautiful creature next to him began to grow. Somewhere in his mind he thought it impossible, but it felt so natural. He had so many questions, and no experience with women to answer them - what was he going to do?

* * *

They strolled across the prairie, the trail barely noticeable. Amon led the way, Nettie alongside him, still holding his hand. His pace was quick and it would probably be easier if he’d let go, but she didn’t really want him to, so she did her best not to stumble. She wondered if he was trying not to look at her.

Cutty shuffled along several yards behind them, happily munching his cinnamon bread. She made a mental note to at some point cook their chaperone an enormous dinner one day, just to see if he could eat it all. Or at least a few loaves of her own cinnamon bread recipe. Jasper and the cooking matrons of Clear Creek weren’t the only ones who could turn out a good batch of the stuff …

But that led back to her greatest dilemma. She knew she was going to have to tell Amon about her past and what she’d been. But she felt better about it after seeing Cutty’s reaction and hoped Amon, like Cutty, would be surprised rather than appalled.

“It’s not much further,” Amon informed her.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a tree I’d like to show you. I’m considering it for a piece.”

“A tree?” She practically panted as he picked up his pace even more. “If it’s a tree, then it’s not going anywhere, is it? Do you have to walk so fast?”

He stopped, yanking her back. “It’s not just any tree. I can tell it’s special.”

Her brows rose at that. She gazed past him at the landscape. “They all look alike to me. What makes this one so special?”

He smiled. “You’ll see.” He continued on, at a slightly slower pace, but by the time he stopped again she was still gasping for breath. “There it is!” he said proudly, waving toward it like it was some priceless Greek sculpture.

Nettie stared at it for a moment before she looked around again. “I don’t understand. It looks like all the rest.”

“Oh, but it isn’t,” he said and finally, carefully let go of her hand.

She studied him, caught the faraway gleam in his eyes and noted he was looking at the tree much the same way he’d been looking at her out behind the barn. She wondered which he was more attracted to – her or the prickly shrub in front of them. He fingered the branches, touching them almost lovingly. Why was he acting so strangely? “What kind of a tree is it?” she asked cautiously.

“Juniper,” he sighed.

She looked at the tree, then him. “It’s rather small, isn’t it? What can you possibly make out of it?”

He turned to her, one hand still on a branch. “Nothing now, but in ten years it will be a beauty. Who knows what can be created from it then?”

She glanced around again. “Amon, the trees all look the same to me. What makes this one different?”

He caressed another branch just as Cutty joined them. “I can just … feel it. This one
wants
to be made into something.”