Cricket Cove (24 page)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

A
melia was still stinging from her clash with John when Rachel and Emma brought her birthday cake out from the kitchen, but she was doing her best to set the anger aside. Candles in the shape of a two and three were lit on top of the pink–and-white sheet cake, and everyone sang the birthday song as her sisters placed the cake on the table in front of her.

“Make it a good wish, Pip,” Rachel said as she straightened.

Closing her eyes as she inhaled, Amelia wished with all her heart that things with Logan would work out for the best, whatever that ended up being. She blew as hard as she could.

Cheers and applause met her efforts, and she opened her eyes to see that the candles were extinguished.

Emma settled a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head. “Now that the meal is finished, you have to wear this.” The hat had pencils, roses, tiny rolled-up newspapers, and a miniature Cupid, complete with bow and arrows, arranged around the brim.

As she looked around the table, she saw that even John and Ben had relented enough to smile. She slipped her hand into Logan’s beneath the table. Her family might make her want to pull her hair out from time to time, but they loved her. Of that she had no doubt.

After they’d eaten, everyone went to the living room where Amelia settled in on the floor in front of her parents. She could barely see over the pile of presents on the coffee table.

Logan took a seat on the hearth, next to Archer.

“People, you shouldn’t have.” She shook her head. “What am I going to do with you all?”

Owen put his hand on her head, and she looked up at him. “You’re going to open your presents, let us tell embarrassing stories about you, and have a good birthday.”

“Are you going to start with the snowstorm?” she teased.

He laughed. “That is the beginning, isn’t it?”

Amelia groaned as she accepted the first present from Noah. “Don’t you ever get tired of telling that story?”

Sarah answered. “Not at all. It’s a good story. Who’s this from?”

“This one is from Benny and Ainsley.” She tore the paper off, making a production of the opening. Inside the flat box was a beautiful, soft scarf in a deep, vibrant blue. It felt so buttery soft she couldn’t believe it had substance. “Oh, this is gorgeous. Thank you.”

“So what’s this snowstorm story?” Logan asked.

“That’s the tale of when Amelia was born,” Archer told him. “And it’s a doozy.”

Owen picked it up. “As most of you know, we figured we were finished having kids after Rachel. Sarah had gone back to work at the library and everything. And then she woke up sick as a dog one morning. I knew before she did, I think. I took one look at her that morning and I knew.”

Sarah laughed. “It’s true. He did.”

Amelia turned so she could see their faces, not wanting to miss seeing the obvious affection they still shared.

“So Sarah goes to the doctor, gets the happy diagnosis, and we start preparing for another baby. January rolls around, and it was a rough winter. I kept trying to get her to go into town and stay with Gilly’s parents, but she wouldn’t. ‘I’m fine, Owen. I’ve got four more weeks to go. I’ve had four other children. I know when I’m getting close to giving birth.’ I argued, she stood her ground, and a winter storm moved in.”

Sarah picked up the story. “He was so nervous. I felt bad afterward, but at the time, I really didn’t have any indication that I’d go into early labor. Her due date wasn’t until February seventh, you see. And when the forecasters started talking about this blizzard, I wasn’t worried.”

“So you didn’t go to town?” Logan asked.

“No. I stayed at the farm.”

“She did. And the morning after it snowed nearly three feet deep, guess who woke me up saying ‘Honey, I think my water just broke’?”

Sarah groaned and hid her face. “I was mortified, and so scared. Here we were, no power, no running water since the well pump was electric, and I was in labor. Four children under the age of ten, and our closest neighbor was at the foot of the mountain, snowed in.”

“She was mortified, and I was terrified. I’ve only felt that level of panic a handful of times in my life, and I never want to feel it again. I was sure I was going to lose them both,” Owen said softly, his arm around Sarah’s shoulders.

“I don’t know how you did it, Dad. I remember that day,” John said. “I was old enough to understand there was a problem, but none of us had a clue how serious it was. You all worked hard to keep it that way, too.”

“It wouldn’t have done any good to panic you,” Sarah told him. “Owen was angry, and rightfully so. I should have listened to him.”

“But you didn’t. And it worked out in the end.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We had walkie-talkies and I raised Jack on it. He and Gilly bundled up their kids, who were still pretty young at the time, and they headed up the mountain on foot. It took them nearly an hour to get there, the snow was so deep. Jack took all the kids to the studio, and Gilly and I set up a birthing suite as best we could.”

Sarah touched his chin. “None too soon, either. About thirty minutes after they got things ready, I was pushing. It was the fastest labor I’d ever had. She was here before we knew it, screaming her head off.”

“Oh, now,” Amelia teased, feeling misty. She laid a hand on her mother’s leg, and Sarah took it with hers, holding tight. “Surely not.”

“You just about brought the house down,” Owen insisted. “As harrowing as that day was, I’m glad I was there for the delivery. You all are lucky,” he said, looking around the room at her siblings. “Back then, they didn’t allow the fathers in with the moms, and we didn’t have ultrasounds or any of that stuff. We had to pace in the waiting room until the nurse came out to tell us the results.”

“Yeah, and as soon as Dad saw they’d had another girl, he put his foot down. No more little Campbells unless they were boys,” John joked.

Everyone laughed, and Sarah nodded. “He did. Since I couldn’t guarantee the results, we stopped at five. It’s a good number.”

“It is a good number,” Owen agreed.

Amelia opened the bulk of her presents after the tale was finished, frowning when she saw the large box from Rachel. “What in the world? There isn’t a kitten in this box, is there?” It was certainly large enough to hold one.

“No, silly. Open it and see.”

When she lifted the lid, she drew in a breath. “Oh, Rachel. Where did you get this?” Inside the box was yard upon yard of folded fabric. There were all kinds, but mostly silky, satiny blends. “It’s gorgeous.”

Rachel’s smile was pleased. “There’s a lady over in Wise who sets up at the flea market. I was in there a couple of weeks ago, and when I saw what she had, I snatched it up. There are three more boxes back at my house. I’ll get them to you when you come home.”

Amelia was humbled. She exchanged a long look with her sister. “Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.”

“I know. I’m looking forward to seeing what you do with it.”

She already had some ideas, starting with a crazy throw quilt for Rachel’s couch. The velvets and brocades she’d seen would be perfect.

Logan’s gift was the last one she opened. The box was small, about the size of a man’s wallet. Inside, an ornate, intricately worked metal bookmark was nestled in cotton. It depicted fairies frolicking near a pond.

Amelia traced the lines. “Thank you.” She let her eyes speak for her and hoped she managed to communicate just how much the gift meant to her. If the way his cheeks flushed was any indication, she succeeded.

“You’re welcome.”

Archer looked askance at his brother for a moment, then shook his head as though doubting what he’d seen. But when he looked back at Amelia, she grinned and winked. Archer froze, staring at her like she’d stood up and said she wanted to become an astronaut.

As she watched, his jaw literally dropped, and he smacked Logan’s arm. Hard.

“Ow! Damn it, what was that for?”

“You… you lousy, rutting bastard!”

“Archer Vale Gibson, watch your tongue!” Eliza scolded.

He flushed and apologized but quickly turned back to his brother. “Outside. Now.” Without waiting for Logan’s response, he stood and stalked from the room.

Logan slowly rose from the hearth, heaving out a sigh that carried the weight of the world. Amelia started to get up, but he shook his head. “I have this. Excuse me.”

There was stunned silence in the living room as everyone took in what had just happened. Emma was the first to speak.

“Do you think we should leave them alone, or do we need to make sure they don’t kill each other?”

“Let them get it out of their systems,” Owen suggested. “They can either hash it out now, or let it fester until it does real damage. I hope we won’t have to interfere.”

Amelia stood and started gathering her gifts. Her heart was hammering in her throat, and she strained to listen for any noises coming from outside that might indicate a fight. She didn’t realize she was crying until Emma came over to her, holding out a tissue.

“Come on. Let’s get some air.”

She let her sister lead her from the room, and they went the opposite direction from the men, toward the back door.

“I just wanted to have a nice birthday party,” she told Emma tearfully. “I guess expecting that was stupid of me, given the circumstances.”

“No, it isn’t. Come here, kid.” Emma wrapped her arm around Amelia’s shoulders and walked through the backyard with her. “What happened?”

Amelia took a minute to gather her thoughts and clear the lump from her throat. “He wrote me. The man writes damned good letters, Em. And I wrote back. Things grew from there.”

“Apparently he does. How serious are you?”

She admitted the one thing she’d been afraid to say out loud. “I don’t know. I… I’m not sure he’s after anything more than a fling. Not really, not when it comes down to the nuts and bolts of things. From what I’ve learned about him over the years through Archer, I know he doesn’t want kids. I do. And no matter how much we care about each other, assuming we do, that’s a chasm we can’t cross.”

Emma tightened her arm. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I could say you’re misinterpreting things, but I just don’t know. He seems to like kids well enough. Maybe he’s not so hardnosed about it as we think?”

Amelia laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be so lucky.”

“Well, I’m holding out hope that we’re wrong.” They’d reached the back of the fenced-in portion of the yard, and Emma moved her arm so that she could lean against the wooden fence. “So are you okay? I mean, I’m assuming you are, but if you have any questions…”

This time, Amelia’s laugh felt more natural. “I don’t have any questions, no. And yes, I’m okay. He was very considerate, very gentle and patient.” She felt her cheeks heat, and she pressed her hands to them. “Is it always so explosive, Em? I mean honest to God, I expected it to be pleasant, but it was so far beyond that…”

Amelia was extremely grateful that she had the kind of relationship with her sister that she could ask her anything. She was close to Rachel, but she never would have been comfortable discussing certain things with her the way she was with Emma.

Emma sighed. “No, it isn’t. I’ve not been with that many men, Pip. Just two before Archer. And you know I thought I loved the sperm donor,” she said, referring to Sydney’s biological father. “But what I feel for, and with, Archer? It so far eclipses what I had with the others, I can’t begin to describe the difference.”

“I think I might be falling in love with him,” Amelia admitted. “And that terrifies me. I wish you could tell me that I’m being paranoid, like I did with you and Archer, but I know you can’t.”

“If it helps any, I do believe Logan is a good man.”

Amelia smiled. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t really help. I know he’s a good man, Em. I just don’t know if he’s the right man. If he wants to be the right man. I guess I’m just going to have to wait and see how things turn out.” She sighed. “Maybe I’m just letting John and Ben’s negativity get to me. I got pretty snippy with John. Kind of took his head off, if you want the truth.”

Emma’s surprise showed. “I’ll bet that threw him for a loop. I can’t remember you ever getting snippy with him.”

“He started it.” They both laughed. “Seriously, though, Em, I hit him below the belt. Brought up that woman he worked with, the one who kissed him in front of Zanny? I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll have to apologize.”

Emma whistled low. “Damn, kid. That is pretty… harsh, I guess is the word I’m looking for.” She studied Amelia closely for a few seconds. “What did John say to make you lash out like that?”

“That I was vulnerable right now and wasn’t thinking straight. He basically implied that Logan had taken advantage of me. Or that I was too addled to see the truth.”

“Pip, if you’re willing to pull out those kinds of fighting words over Johnny clumsily expressing concern, I think you’re already in love with Logan. You wouldn’t be so aggressive if you weren’t. Either that or you know John’s right.”

She thought of how unhappy Logan had been to see her go Friday morning. “He isn’t—” she started to say heatedly, then realized how strident her tone was, and dialed it back. “He isn’t right.”

“No?”

Now that she’d had a few minutes to calm down, she was regaining her equilibrium. “No. I don’t know if Logan and I will end up in a happily ever after, but whatever we have, it’s real.”

Emma’s smile lit up her face, and she touched Amelia’s bangs to brush them back, much like she would with Sydney. “I kind of figured you might come to that conclusion. Like I said, I can’t guarantee you anything, but the way he looks at you is pretty telling.”

“And just how is that?” Amelia asked as they headed back inside. The kids ran past them, no doubt eager to get outside while the weather was warm.

“Like you’re the last cookie on the plate, and he’s going to have you one way or another.”

Amelia blushed, remembering the days she’d spent with Logan. “You might be on to something there. I need to have a talk with everyone about some things that probably won’t go over very well. Wish me luck?”

“Of course. Always.”