THREE

Amelia bent over the fire as she stirred the pot of beans. The night had come faster than she'd wanted, which meant they had to stop. She was anxious to get to Spruce Hill. All she'd been able to think about since escaping the orphanage, was going to Spruce Hill to see if her grandparents still lived there. For sixteen years, she'd wondered why her grandparents never came to find Amelia and her siblings at the orphanage after their parents had died. Or had they even known their grandkids were without parents?

She sighed and sat back down on the tree stump. Maybe her grandparents were dead, too. Either way, Amelia would start a new life in Spruce Hill with her daughter and Uncle Theo. She could become a teacher, or a seamstress, or she could work at a hotel and clean room. Theo would be a good lumberjack, she was sure. With any luck, perhaps Amelia would find a man to fall in love with – one who loved her unconditionally. One who she could confess the truth to. But right now, she must pretend to be a widow... and a mother.

Gracie's cheerful laugh brought Amelia out of her thoughts as she looked toward the wagon at the girl and Mr. Logan. He was a very attractive man, especially when he smiled. He'd been doing that quite often when he talked with Gracie, and the girl seemed to love the attention. Mr. Logan had found a bunch of hand-size sticks and they were building a house, or at least it resembled a house until Gracie bumped into it, knocking the structure down. They both laughed heartily, but it was Mr. Logan's baritone voice that made Amelia's breath catch.

She still couldn't believe how he'd caught her from falling out of the wagon earlier today. Embarrassment grew inside her again from just recalling the way his strong hands held onto her waist, and the way his gray eyes held her gaze captive. Heat slowly filled her remembering how his wide shoulders were incredibly muscular. His mesmerizing gaze made her heart flutter... and heavens, why she had looked at his mouth, she'd never know – and she'd never do again, for that matter.

Sitting beside Amelia, Theo bumped her arm. She looked at him and he began signing. It's good to see Gracie smile again.

Amelia nodded and signed back. We've only been gone a week, but she acts like she doesn't remember the orphanage.

He sighed and frowned. I'm trying to forget, too.

Her heart twisted. Most everyone who had lived at that place had been affected one way or another. She had been a young girl when she'd heard the rumors that the Stone's had been upset at Theo for breaking the fence, that they repeatedly kicked him in the ear, which caused him to go deaf.

She signed. From now on, let's pretend that place never existed. I want a new life and new memories.

He smiled weakly. Me, too.

She moved off the stump again to stir the beans in the pot, cooking over the fire. Another reason she couldn't wait to get to Spruce Hill was that she was tired of the limited food they had. They'd spent more money on clothes and blankets in order not to look like runaways from the orphanage, which didn't leave them a lot to spend on food. She reminded herself that they were very fortunate to find all of that money on the floor... and that Mr. Stone slept through it.

The beans were soft and steam rose from the pan. Hopefully, they were cooked well enough, because she was hungry and tired... but more importantly, she was ready for tomorrow to arrive.

"I think the food is done," she said loud enough for the laughing pair on the other side of the fire to hear.

Gracie jumped up and rushed to Amelia's side. She spooned a good portion of beans on a plate and handed it to her along with a spoon. Gracie carried her plate and sat by Theo. Amelia lumped the beans on another plate and handed it to Mr. Logan.

She smiled. "I hope you like beans. That's all we have until we reach Spruce Hill tomorrow."

"I'm sure they will taste heavenly." He took the plate from her and sat across the fire.

She fixed Theo's plate and gave it to him before spooning some on her plate. When she took her first bite, she sighed, thankful that the beans were completely cooked. She was also grateful that it was edible.

"Mr. Logan," she said after swallowing her food, "why don't you tell us about yourself."

His gaze lifted to hers. "What do you want to know?"

"Where are you from?"

"California. I lived there since I was a young boy."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Were you there during the gold rush?"

He nodded. "My parents moved the family there to dig for gold."

"Did you find any?"

"Yes, but my parents had it all spent by the time I was eighteen." He took another bite.

"What did you do after that?"

"I worked for a rancher who raised horses."

She rested the plate on her lap, moving her gaze over his physique again. Staring at him as though she'd never seen such a robust man was another thing she needed to stop doing. "You look like just the type of man who would enjoy that."

"Yes, I did enjoy that."

"So, why are you heading to the lumber mill?" She took a bite, hoping he'd talk more than just a few short sentences so she could finish chewing.

"While working on the ranch, I met a man who had been at the lumber mill. He told me stories about his time there, and it fascinated me."

She quickly swallowed. "But why the one in Oregon?"

He chuckled. "I hope this doesn't make me sound like a weakling, but..." He shook his head, grinning. "I've always wanted to see a lighthouse. I've heard there are two lighthouses in the area where we're traveling."

She nodded. "I heard that, too – and no, admitting you want to see the lighthouse doesn't make you weak. It makes you normal."

"Normal?"

"Yes, because now I know you have hopes and dreams, just like the rest of us."

"Is that why you're going? To see the lighthouse?"

Amelia's smile slowly drooped as memories returned. During her year of mourning after her parents never returned from their trip across the ocean, Amelia had wondered if going to the lighthouse would help her find her parents. After all, wasn't that the purpose of a lighthouse? To help bring ships safely into port?

"As a child, I had silly dreams of what I thought a lighthouse could do. However, I'm mainly going to see if I can find my grandparents. I know they used to live in Spruce Hill."

"Then I hope you find them."

She smiled again. "And I hope you find your dreams there too, Mr. Logan."

"Please, call me Duke."

Duke? She'd never heard that name used as a Christian name. Then again, she'd spent most of her life in an orphanage. There probably many names she would never know. "Then you must call me Amelia."

"Amelia," he sighed. "What a pretty name for a pretty lady."

She blushed again. Another thing she wasn't used to was having men compliment her. "Thank you."

"Amelia," Gracie tapped on her arm. "I'm tired."

Sucking in her breath, Amelia realized what name Gracie had called her. She shook her finger at the girl, trying to act like any mother would. "Although I've given Mr. Logan permission to call me Amelia, I'm still Mother to you, little missy."

The girl's face turned red. "Sorry," she mumbled and pressed her hot face against Amelia's arm. "I'm just tired."

Amelia set their plates aside and lifted Gracie in her arms. Duke jumped to his feet and held out his hands to help.

"Thanks, but I'll get her to bed now," Amelia told him, walking past him.

"Goodnight, Gracie," he said.

"Nite." Gracie waved.

Amelia was able to get them in the wagon and she assisted the girl with undressing and putting on her nightclothes. The wind outside picked up and blew against the canvas covering the back of the wagon. Gracie sobbed and cuddled against Amelia. The poor girl's eyes widened as she looked around.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. It's just the wind."

"Will the wind tip us over?"

"No." Amelia caressed Gracie's cheek. "There's nothing to worry about. I won't let anything happen to you."

"And Duke? Will you make sure he's fine, too?"

Amelia wanted to laugh, but at least Gracie still admired her as a mother figure. Gracie's first month at the orphanage was hard, and Amelia understood it well. The other kids teased her, and the older servants – and the Stones – ignored the poor frightened girl. Amelia took it upon herself to be the girl's mother... or at least an older sister. Gracie snatched on to Amelia like a ragdoll, and she loved every minute of the girl's attention. Amelia had needed Gracie just as much as the girl needed her.

"Now, lie down and close your eyes. Let the wind lull you to sleep." Amelia prepared the bedroll.

Gracie climbed inside and pulled up the blanket to her chin. "Will you sing to me as you used to when I was afraid?"

Tears burned behind Amelia's eyes. She was happy that Gracie hadn't forgotten those times. As a child herself, Amelia recalled when her own mother used to sing her to sleep. She'd been so comforted just hearing her mother's voice.

"Of course, sweetheart."

Amelia brushed the girl's hair back away from her face and started singing a song she'd known for years. Three more songs later, Gracie's eyes closed and her breathing grew heavy. Amelia leaned over and kissed the girl's forehead before moving to the end of the wagon to climb out. Just as she moved the canvas aside, she gasped. Duke was sitting on a rock very close to the opening. Amelia was sure he'd heard her singing.

He quickly stood and held out a hand to help her out, and as she let him assist her, he slid an arm around her waist, lifting her out until her feet touched the ground. Heavens, he was too close... and why had she let him put his hands on her like that again... and why was she staring at his face as though she'd never seen anything so incredibly handsome in her life?

"Mr. Logan," she said in a low voice that almost sounded like a sigh.

"Duke."

She nodded. "Yes, I mean... Thank you, Duke. However, I can climb out by myself."

He shrugged. "I was right here, and I would have felt guilty for letting you do it on your own without my help. My pa taught me to treat women like a fine piece of glass, because they have hearts that break easily."

She wasn't sure if he was being humorous or not, but she couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, and I'd heard that most men don't have hearts at all."

"Only the best of us do." He winked.

Her heart fluttered. Heavens, she really needed to stop acting this way around him. She also needed to find the strength to push his arm away from her waist and step back. "I'm happy to know that."

Finally, his arm dropped and she stepped back. Her breathing needed to calm down before Duke noticed. She didn't want him to know she was breathless around him.

"I heard you singing to the girl."

Inwardly, she groaned, preparing for his insults. At the orphanage when the boys heard her sing – or when she grew older and the men heard her sing – they always ridiculed her voice. She tried not to let it bother her, but it had.

"You have a voice like an angel," he said softly.

Her thoughts tripped, and she narrowed her gaze on him. Had she heard correctly? That didn't sound like an insult at all. "Pardon me?"

"I hope you don't mind me commenting on your singing voice. When I heard you singing to the girl, I remembered when my mother was young. She sang to us when we were ill. I believe her remedy for curing our illness was much more productive than what the doctors could do."

Her heart softened once more. If he kept saying things like that to her, she'd make sure she was back in his arms again. And that she could never do again! It wouldn't be wise for him to find out what kind of woman she really was.