Something Borrowed

Chapter 6

Amelia

Amelia sat on the edge of her new bed, wearing a tatty nightgown and brushing her hair absently, thick locks draped over her left shoulder. The sun had long since set, and Brent still hadn't returned from his tour of the ranch. When Melissa had come to bid her goodnight, she'd asked if she should worry.

"Oh no," her new friend had laughed, smiling brightly, her cheeks red from fresh scrubbing, hair braided for the night. "The ranch hands always have a card game going. I'm sure he's just having some fun. You know how he is."

Amelia had forced herself to roll her eyes and smile, as if she was some beleaguered but adoring wife and not pregnant, unmarried, and growing more terrified by the second. And now she was waiting, wondering if he'd already abandoned her... wondering why the thought scared her and angered her but didn't quite surprise her.

She never should have followed him. Life in St. Louis would have been miserable, but at least she knew the city. She had friends. Here, she was alone, with only Brent and his family-- whose help was surely conditional and based upon Brent's presence-- upon whom to rely.

Her hair began to frizz and stick to the brush from the ferocity of her strokes, and she tossed the thing aside with a huff. Plating the freshly-brushed strands into a thick braid, she stood and paced about the small bedroom. She had both lanterns lit, and their flickering light cast a homey, honeyed glow around the sparsely decorated room. The floors were bare wood covered with a smattering of mis-matched rugs. The walls, plaster-coated white, held no adornments but for a lacquered crucifix hanging over the bed.

"You're gonna watch over me then, are you?" she asked the cross, talking to God the way she always did-- mockingly. Only once, long ago, had she opened up her heart and spoken to the heavens in earnest. She'd begged and pleaded with burning tears in her eyes and full-body sobs choking the air from her lungs.

No answer.

God had been pressed upon her from such a young age, she never imagined that He might not be up there somewhere, pulling strings and watching her struggle. He wasn't a very good listener, though, and He damn sure didn't look out for the happiness and well-being of his creations. He answered prayers and mockery alike with cold indifference, and she went about her life with the knowledge that He was there and that he didn't much care for her wants and needs. If she wanted something, it was up to her to acquire it. If she felt pain, it was up to her to heal it.

Melissa had said this had been Brent and Josh's room, but Amelia saw very little evidence of childhood or male presence. It was as if the whole room had been stripped bare, and she vaguely recalled Melissa mentioning that Brent's brother had cleared the room out just three days prior. He must have taken all of his things with him. All the memories and toys and books... all the things that made this a bedroom and not just four walls and some mismatched furniture.

Crossing the floor to the window, Amelia knelt on the bench and cupped her hands around her face to block out the light, peering out at the sleeping ranch. The sky had faded from dusky blue to velvety black and stars were beginning to twinkle at her. Stars were such a novelty, she had half a mind to run outside and stare at them.

Instead, she left the window and walked to the bed, slipping beneath the covers with a shiver and a sigh. She was too tired to worry about Brent and go chasing after stars. Tonight, she would sleep. One of the nuns who had raised her had always said that a good night of sleep made everything better. Sometimes that was true. Sometimes it wasn't.

She just hoped it was true tonight.

Josh

"You're being a spoilsport," Brent complained, wrenching his arm out of Josh's hold and turning back to the card game set up on a rickety table by the stove.