Something Borrowed

Chapter 18

Amelia

"You look fine," Melissa said for the hundredth time, setting a comforting hand on Amelia's arm. Amelia grimaced in answer, smoothing a hand over her belly. It was noticeably round, in spite of the high-waisted, navy blue dress she'd picked in the hopes of minimizing the growth. Her friend had tried to remind her that was the point-- she wanted folks from town to know she was pregnant so that she could reinforce the false truth that it was Josh's child.

What a mess.

It was a surprisingly, joyfully mild day-- mild being a word Amelia never thought she'd use to describe this still, sunny brand of frigid cold. The sun pounded down onto the thick blanket of snow, blinding her. Josh sat up at the front of the sleigh, and she wondered how he could see well enough to guide the horses. She hunched in the back, eyes squinted to avoid the glare. The social was scheduled to start just after six, and they'd left early in order to make the trip during daylight hours. Josh insisted it wasn't safe after dark. Never mind that nine days out of ten he trudged in hours and hours after sunset.

The rules for men and women were as different in the unsettled west as they had been in the city. Maybe even more.

It was odd, but Amelia had entertained a delusional fantasy that she would find freedom out west. She'd read so many dime novels filled with cowboys and outlaws, and she'd always inadvertently placed herself in the role of the men-- wild and untamed and tough, scratching together a living through sheer force of will and bravery and witticism.

She'd also entertained a delusional fantasy that she'd settle out west with a cheerful, adventurous Brent. Now here she was, married to the man's staid, responsible brother and locked into a future as a wealthy rancher's housewife-- destined to live her life between the kitchen and the mantlepiece. A semi-functional display piece.

"Are you ladies warm enough?" Josh said over her shoulder, and Amelia immediately felt awful for the ungrateful, disloyal course of her daydreaming. She liked Josh. He was so unrelentingly good. It was impossible not to like him, and she wanted very badly to be a good wife for him. The problem was she wanted that for his sake, not for hers. In those selfish moments of fantasy she was dreaming of a future she actually wanted, and it was a great and heavy weight on her shoulders that the future she actually wanted still didn't involve him. She wanted to want him. He deserved for her to want him.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she was just cursed to yearn after men not worthy of her love.

"We're fine," Melissa answered for both of them, nudging Amelia in the side. "Wake up," she said beneath her breath, linking their arms beneath the blanket they shared around their shoulders. There was another covering their legs and a deerskin over their feet. They wore thick socks and heavy coats and scarves and hats and mittens. How could they possibly not be warm enough? Amelia felt like a swaddled infant. Warm, yes, but also...

"Josh?" she said, leaning forward to tap her husband on the shoulder. The family's two-horse sleigh had two rows of seats, and he sat in the front, one hand loosely gripping the reigns, the other draped over the back of the seat. He turned to glance at her over his shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, smiling as she folded her arms on the back of the seat beside his shoulder and resting her chin on them. "I was wondering if you'd teach me to drive the sleigh on the ride back."

He frowned at her before turning back to the front. "It's warmer in the back," he said. "Less wind."

"I'm plenty warm."

"Because you're in the back," he said wryly. "Where there's less wind."

She sighed, slumping back into her seat next to Melissa.