She was expecting their first child. She shared the news with Carrick one evening as they walked the property, inspecting the new growth of spring grass. "Karrick," she said, stopping beside the creek that ran through their land. "I have something important to tell you." He turned to her, concern immediately crossing his features.
"Is something wrong?" "No," she reassured him, taking his hand and placing it gently on her still flat stomach. "Something is very right. We're going to have a baby." Carrick's expression transformed from concern to wonder.
"A baby? You're certain?" Amelia nodded, her eyes filling with happy tears. Martha Brennan confirmed it yesterday. the baby should arrive in late October. For a moment, Carrick seemed unable to speak.
Then, to Amelia's surprise, he lifted her gently and spun her in a circle, his laughter echoing across the open land. "Careful," she protested, laughing with him. "I'm in a delicate condition," he set her down immediately, his hands steadying her. "I'm sorry. I'm just He shook his head overcome.
Amelia, I never thought I could be this happy. The news of their expected child spread quickly through the community, bringing congratulations and practical gifts from neighbors. Martha Brennan promised to knit blankets, while Beatatrice Wilson began planning a gathering to celebrate the impending arrival. As Amelia's body changed with the growing child, Carrick became increasingly protective, insisting she reduce her teaching to two days per week and hiring additional help for the ranch to lighten her workload. "I'm pregnant, not invalid," she reminded him frequently, though she was touched by his concern.
"Humor me," he would reply, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's my first time being a father. Summer passed in a blur of activity. The ranch prospered with the largest calf crop they'd yet produced. The school term ended, giving Amelia time to prepare the house for the baby's arrival.
Carrick built a cradle from carefully selected wood, working on it in the evenings while Amelia sewed tiny garments. As her due date approached, Amelia sometimes found herself remembering her arrival in Willow Creek. the tearful, frightened woman who'd stepped off the stage a coach less than a year earlier. How different her life had become. How much richer and more purposeful than she could have imagined. One evening in early October, as they sat on the porch watching the sunset, Amelia took Carrick's hand.
"You remember what you said to me that first day?" she asked. "When I was crying at the station," Carrick thought for a moment. I said you didn't have to pretend with me. Yes. She squeezed his hand.
I think that was the moment everything changed for me. No one had ever given me permission to simply be myself. Not my parents, not my employers, not even my friends in Boston. I just wanted you to be comfortable. Carrick said.
Seemed wrong to expect a show of happiness when you were clearly distressed. It was more than that. Amelia insisted. It was acceptance. You gave me that before you knew anything about me.