They wouldn't have understood. Amelia resumed kneading with more force than necessary. After the scandal, they were mainly concerned with how it affected their standing in society. My father suggested I move to his cousin's home in Maine to wait out the gossip, as if one could simply hide for years until people forgot. And coming west as a male order bride seemed a better option.
It offered a fresh start, she said simply. And independence, even if that independence comes through marriage. Something in Carrick's expression softened. Well, I'm glad you're here, even if your reasons weren't what I imagined. What did you imagine, Mr. Montgomery?
The question slipped out before she could reconsider. He leaned against the doorframe, considering. Honestly, I figured you might be running from poverty, or perhaps seeking adventure, or maybe just practical enough to recognize that a business arrangement between compatible people might grow into something worthwhile. And now, knowing what you know about me, now I think you're braver than most men I've known," he said quietly. "Takes courage to leave everything familiar behind, especially alone.
The simple compliment delivered without flattery, warmed something in Amelia's chest. She looked away suddenly flustered." "I should finish this bread," she murmured. "And I should show you around the ranch," Carrick replied. when you're ready. That is, a woman should know what she's potentially agreeing to.
An hour later, they walked together across the property. Rusty bounding ahead through the tall grass. Carrick pointed out the boundaries of his land, explained his plans for expansion, showed her the spring that provided their water. "Creek never runs dry, even in drought years," he explained. That's why this land was worth the risk.
How long have you been here? Amelia asked, trying to keep pace with his long strides. 5 years. Came west after the war with what savings I had. Worked on other ranches until I could afford this place.
He gestured toward a half-built structure near the barn that'll be a larger smokehouse. The herds growing need more space for processing. Amelia noticed how his face lit up when discussing his plans for the ranch. This wasn't merely property to him. It was a vision being brought to life.
"It's impressive what you've built," she said sincerely. Carrick glanced at her as if gauging her sincerity. "It's not what most women would want." "Perhaps I'm not most women," she responded. A smile tugged at his lips, the first real smile she'd seen from him.
It transformed his serious face, revealing a dimple in his right cheek. "No, Miss Foster, I don't believe you are." They continued walking, falling into step beside each other. The vastness of the landscape made Amelia feel simultaneously small and strangely free. No buildings hemming her in, no judging eyes watching from windows.
"Call me Amelia," she said suddenly. If we're to consider marriage, Miss Foster seems overly formal. Carrick nodded. Amelia then, and I'm Carrick. At the corral, he introduced her to the horses his own chestnut geling named Buck, a dappled mare called Penny, and a gentle palamino.