Amy's Choice (A More Perfect Union Series Book 2) Read online

  Evelyn descended the three stairs with her maid Belinda's help, calling to the dogs. She wore a dark green day dress with a white apron that drew attention to the presence of the baby beneath it, and a colorful shawl about her shoulders to ward off the November chill. She had been a beautiful woman on her wedding day, but now she stooped slightly and never looked anyone fully in the face. Walter's doing. What had he done to take away her vitality? More importantly, what could Amy do to restore her sister's confidence and poise? Probably the first step required removing Walter from the equation. Not that she had any hope of such an event happening.

  Even from this distance Evelyn looked tall and thin except for the immense bulge as evidence of the child she carried. His child. The child he did not deserve to have, given his mean and rigid manner. What kind of father would he be when he showed so little warmth and happiness in his actions and very attitude?

  Lucille steered the pair of horses into the drive and reined them to a halt. Paul stopped the bay and dismounted, securing her to the carriage. Lucille tied off the reins of the pair of grays, then called out, "You look well this morning, daughter."

  "Better today than yesterday." Evelyn strolled toward where the ladies gathered their skirts before stepping down. "Any trouble on your trip?"

  Amy climbed from the carriage and hugged Evelyn, feeling the woman's bones stretching the skin. The dogs sniffed Amy's skirts and barked once. Evelyn hushed them with a wave of her hand. Amy searched her sister's guarded expression. "How fare you, Evelyn?"

  "Well, thank you." Evelyn cast a worried look over her shoulder toward the front window of the house. "Walter is inside. He—he had some business to attend, or he would have greeted you proper."

  Amy swallowed a doubting sound and gave Evelyn another hug.

  Their mother also embraced Evelyn, pushing back to examine her daughter in silence. She kissed Evelyn's cheek and shook her head. "You need to eat more, darling. You have a child to consider."

  Evelyn nodded. "I know. I try, when Belinda manages to pull something together, but I can't keep it down."

  "Surely Walter has kept his word to provide for you and his baby." Amy peered at her, noting the sunken cheeks and shadows under her eyes. Everyone struggled to put together a meal nowadays, what with the extensive scavenging by both the continental and British armies, confiscating food and other goods to supply their hungry soldiers.

  "Bread helped me when I was first with child," Lucille said. "But you shouldn't be ill each morning at your late date."

  A breeze tickled the hairs on Amy's neck, sending a shiver down her back. She crossed her arms to warm herself. The dogs circled the small group, tongues lolling, eyes watchful.

  "We should go in." Evelyn noted Amy's movements and motioned to the house. "It's chilly out here."

  Lucille looked at Paul. "You can take the horses around to the stable and see to their needs. We will be here a little while."

  "Yes, ma'am." Paul climbed onto the carriage's seat, released the reins and urged the grays to a walk.

  The dogs made Amy's skin prickle. She watched the carriage round the side of the house, and almost wished she had stayed with Paul. Anything would be better than entering Walter's dominion.

  Walking toward the house, Amy imagined she saw a shadow pass by the window. Peering closer, only a curtain hung in place, motionless. What had she seen? Another shiver raced down her spine, one having nothing to do with the chill wind. She mentally shook herself. What hogwash, to be afraid of a house. A bunch of stones and wood held together by mortar could not harm her. She straightened her back and followed her mother and sister inside.

  Amy paused to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim interior of Evelyn and Walter's house. The dogs fortunately stayed outside as Evelyn closed the door behind them. Dark wood and curtained windows created a sense of threat, even in the large entryway. The floors gleamed in the subdued light filtering through the windows. Stairs on her left curved to the upper floor, their elegant spindles and rail in sharp contrast to the sinister spirit of the house.

  Walter emerged from an upstairs bedroom, startling her as she mused on the source of her agitation. His heavy footsteps brought him to the upper railing, where he paused and glared at the three women below.

  "What brings you here today?" Walter descended the stairs, each footfall echoing in the silent house.

  No welcome at all. Amy stiffened. He never failed to make her feel as though she intruded. His massive hand, strong enough to choke a man, slid down the banister with each step. In a state of undress, his open shirt revealed a dark tangle of hair reaching for freedom from the loosely fitted garment tucked into dark trousers. Shaggy black hair caught into a queue made his large features even more prominent on his face.

  Lucille stepped closer to Evelyn, a protective arm going around her daughter's waist. "I wanted to make sure Evelyn has all she needs as the baby's time approaches."

  Walter frowned, coming to a stop in front of the small group, his fists propped on each hip. "I do my best to provide for her. You need not fret."

  "I'm a mother, Walter." Lucille squeezed Evelyn's waist and kissed her cheek. "It's my job to worry about my children's welfare."

  Amy detected a hint of defensiveness in her mother's tone. No wonder, when Walter tended to scowl. Their parents once believe he'd be a good husband, but did her sister actually enjoy living with a man so judgmental and unkind? Did she still love him after the bruises he'd left on her? Obviously she should ask her sister that very question.

  Walter dropped his fists, flexing his enormous hands as he sauntered toward Evelyn and Lucille. Amy remained in place with an effort. The house closed in on her. She couldn't breathe in the suddenly still room, watching the scene before her as though watching a play, a tragedy mayhap, unfold. He towered above the others in the room, his shoulders straining the fabric of his shirt. Her breath hitched seeing his threatening posture, leaving her a touch light-headed.

  "Your daughter is in no danger from me." Walter stopped in front of the women. He kept his hands to his sides, though his shoulders remained tense. "I cannot say as much for the marauding bands of soldiers frequenting our property. Indeed, we have little left for them to take."

  Evelyn went to her husband, laying a hand on his arm. "We have enough to get by."

  Walter brushed her hand away. "I promised to provide for you, and you have a child on the way. I built this house for us, our children. I mean to die defending it, in the event. Between the embargoes and the British cutting off trade across the area, I cannot even earn an honest living."

  "The peace-treaty negotiations are going well," Lucille said, "so hopefully that situation will change ere long."

  Amy looked around the room, noting the worn fabrics and scarred wood of the furniture and pillows. She could only imagine how little they must have to eat. Food was scarce in Charles Town, but with the British in charge, food supplies remained available. At least in town some semblance of order continued under the British military rule. The countryside received far worse treatment without the routine protections found in town. The militia tried to defend the rural inhabitants, but they could not cover every square mile, and indeed, some believed the militia exacerbated the problem.

  The war's consequences reached far from the battlefield. Many families suffered deprivation from raids for food, supplies, and horses. Or worse, the rapes that occurred frequently by British and even American soldiers. With husbands, brothers, and even fathers away fighting, the lack of protection left women vulnerable, though not entirely defenseless. In town Emily's father had insisted Frank accompany her for fear she'd fall victim to a certain loyalist who threatened their lives. She'd rebelled at this restraint, of course, until Frank ultimately ended the threat once and for all. Amy thanked the stars her parents had taught her how to protect herself and thus resisted the urge to place such restrictions on her activities.

  Lucille clapped her hands lightly as if to dispel sad, or mayhap evil,
thoughts. "Enough about dying. This is a happy time in your lives. What can I do? May I bring you something?"

  "I need no help from a woman," Walter said, his voice resembling a cornered bear. "The forest provides all we need."

  Amy shivered. At least she needn't venture into such a dark place. "Surely we could bring you some provisions. We have enough to share for the sake of the child. We brought only a few items to welcome the little one."

  Walter glared at Amy. "No. It would shame me to accept charity."

  Glaring back, Amy held her ground. "It's not charity when it comes from family. That's what families do for each other."

  Lucille considered him before huffing out a disbelieving snort. "There is greater shame in letting your pride cause your wife to starve. Look how thin she's grown while great with child. She needs to eat more."

  "I'm fine, Mother." Evelyn patted her protruding belly. "The baby moves within, so I know she is alive and well."

  "She?" Imagine the fun she would have with her niece. Assuming Evelyn had some secret method for discerning the baby's sex. Not possible, of course. "How do you know?"

  Walter frowned behind his wife. "Yes, how?"

  "I don't, of course, Walter." Evelyn swallowed, vertical depressions forming between her brows, and forced a smile. "How could I?"

  Amy held her breath. While most folks had long ago stopped believing in witchcraft, a few people continued to fear magic and spells. Even prominent men who practiced alchemy fell under suspicion of black magic. She didn't know Walter well, but as he looked at Evelyn with open suspicion, she could tell he believed in witches. Amy folded her arms across her chest, waiting for what seemed the inevitable disaster to follow.

  "Then why call the wee one a girl?" Walter's pupils darkened, his glare verging on hostile.

  Evelyn attempted to shrug, but the motion was stiff and awkward. "It's nicer to think of our child as a girl than an unknown, a thing."

  "Be careful, woman." Walter gripped Evelyn's elbow with a punishing hand. "I'll not have you talking magic."

  Evelyn's smile drooped. "No magic, Walter. I promise."

  "Next time we come out here, I'll bring a few more things for you and the baby." Lucille hugged her daughter, forcing Walter to release his grip. "It won't be long now until you'll need the midwife called."

  Evelyn rubbed one hand over her elbow. "Soon, for sure." She looked at Amy. "Will you stay with me in my confinement?" She waved a thin hand around the huge, empty house. "There's plenty of room."

  Her comment made Amy think of the crowd of friends and neighbors who'd attended Elizabeth's confinement. Evelyn had no friends so far from town. But stay here? Amy swallowed her protests, though a tremor of fear flowed down her spine. Walter scowled, evidently opposed to having other women reside with Evelyn. His objection alone made it a good reason for her to agree. She stiffened her quavering spine and lifted her chin, pasting a smile on reluctant lips. If her sister needed her to help with the birthing and with the baby afterward, then so be it.

  Despite her trepidation, she agreed. But she wanted some support of her own. "I'll let Samantha know you'll need her before long. She can come with us."

  "Samantha McAlester? The daughter of that Scot, Aaron McAlester?" Walter deepened his scowl, if that were possible.

  "Her father is a well-respected man, a friend of my father's, in fact." Amy clasped her hands before her. Better that than to contemplate how good it would feel to slap the man for his offensive remark. "Samantha is well respected for her talents, as well."

  "Folks talk about Cynthia McAlester's failure as a midwife, too. Why trust the daughter of such a woman?" Walter glared at her as though he addressed an imbecile.

  "Samantha is a fine woman and midwife." Amy bristled at the man's tone and deprecation of her friend. "She has assisted many women being brought to bed with child."

  "Perhaps." Walter raked a hand through his black hair. He squinted at Lucille. "Do you trust her skills? You trust her to assist your daughter?"

  Lucille nodded without hesitation. "Absolutely. Women have the best chance of surviving childbirth and the many possible complications with an experienced midwife in attendance, and Samantha is one of the most gifted I know."

  Walter paced the room, rubbing one hand over his chin. Despite his gruffness, he apparently did care for her sister. How deeply he cared remained a matter for debate. But mayhap hope for him glimmered like a flickering candle on a windy night.

  "Fine." Walter stopped and pinned each woman in turn with his eyes. "You and Samantha may attend my wife, but I will provide the other things she needs. Understood?"

  "But—" Amy shut her mouth at the stern look he leveled in her direction.

  "Understood?" Walter crossed his arms over his chest, looking down his long nose at the ladies standing before him. "I do not want you bringing 'provisions,' as you so quaintly put it. I will take care of her needs."

  Evelyn shot a hold-your-tongue look at Amy. "Yes, we understand. Right, Amy?"

  Amy nodded slowly though her mind spun with ideas of how to smuggle some things to Evelyn when she returned. She would find a way to make sure her sister received proper care, with or without Walter's help.

  "I brought a picnic basket for our noon meal," Lucille said. "May we share it with you?"

  "Of course, Mother." Evelyn's relief appeared on her face. "We'd be happy to share."

  "I don't like it. But since Evelyn agrees I'll permit it. This once," Walter said with measured words. "I'll go hunting later to replenish what the bastards took. But it's difficult this time of year to find much more than a squirrel or two for stew. With so many mouths to feed, I'll have to travel farther from home as a result."

  Amy sighed with heartfelt relief when Walter permitted them to help after they'd lost so much in the last raid on their pantry.

  Lucille approached Walter, a thin smile in place. "Walter, I know you are doing your best in these very difficult times. But you must understand Evelyn needs her family now more than ever to see her through her confinement."

  "I'm her husband, Miss Lucille." He locked eyes with her. "She's my responsibility to care for."

  "As much as you can, I agree." Lucille grasped his arms in her small hands, and Amy tensed, prepared to defend her mother. "You're a good man, Walter. We know that. But you need to realize we will always be part of her life, always care about her well-being and safety."

  Emotions tracked across Walter's face. He seemed to soften, then hardened again before her eyes. What thoughts occupied his mind? Did he not hear the underlying concern in her mother's speech?

  "Do not think that you can supplant my efforts on her behalf, Miss Lucille." His voice deepened as he spoke, roughening on the edges with his pent-up emotion. His eyes darkened to green marble. "She's my wife and belongs to me alone. Nobody will ever change that fact."

  Lucille jerked her hands away as though they burned from the intensity of his feelings.

  Tremors raced down Amy's back to her legs and hands. Evelyn apparently walked a fine line. Like the line Benjamin often walked between the patriots and the loyalists, and between truth and deception. A line between conflicting desires and approaches.

  Bracing herself, she vowed to return as soon as she could gather her things. She'd insist on staying to see the child thriving before she'd leave her sister alone with this man. Having Samantha along would bolster her own courage and give both women an ally. The same way her mother lent her courage when dealing with the soldiers.

  After they polished off their relatively paltry meal of fresh-baked bread, hard cheese, and apples, washed down with cider, Amy sat back and looked at Evelyn. Fatigue haunted her sister's eyes, her pallor apparent in the soft afternoon light. She caught her mother's eye and saw her comprehension as well. Walter shifted in his seat, scraping his chair back from the table. Amy blinked at his almost friendly expression. Perhaps a good meal was all the man needed. Still, Evelyn needed her rest, and the day waned.

 
"It's late." Amy broke the spell of silence between the foursome by gaining her feet. "We must go before it grows dark and we're still on the road."

  "Yes." Evelyn stood and briskly hugged them. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

  Lucille gave Evelyn a questioning look.

  "Please, I'll be fine." Evelyn bobbed her head twice in quick succession, her lips forming a smile that failed to reach her eyes.

  "I'll send word of my return." Amy avoided looking directly at Walter though she sensed his gaze resting on her.

  Evelyn hugged her again, whispering "thank you" in Amy's ear before ending the embrace. "You can imagine how glad I am to know there will be another woman here to help me, and I'm grateful that it's my own sister as well."

  Amy followed Evelyn's glance at her husband. Walter opened his mouth and closed it again without speaking a word. Good man. At least he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

  "I'll return as soon as I can." Amy addressed Evelyn, but Walter's brows furrowed as he pinned his inscrutable gaze on them. She pictured him with devil horns and black wings, a long, pointed tail swishing as he gazed steadily at her. She blinked at Walter's glowering face staring at her, waiting. Time to leave.

  As they drove away, Paul riding behind as usual, Lucille shook her head. "I often wonder what changed him."

  "Perhaps he always carried darkness inside but hid it from you and Father." Not all men of her acquaintance buried their emotions so deeply. Many shared friendly embraces in greeting each other. Like Ben and Frank. They had feelings, yet this man seemed to prefer the negative kind: jealousy, hate, fear. Indeed those were so closely linked Amy had difficulty separating one from the other. Perhaps his problem stemmed from confused emotions so tangled as to no longer make sense.

  "Walter has the law on his side as her husband. She must obey him. But if he seriously injures my daughter, he'll have me and your father to answer to." Lucille slapped the reins on the horses' backs, urging them into a brisk trot. "We need to hurry or we'll be caught out after sundown, and who knows what trouble we'd scare up then."