Song for Silas, A (6 page)

“Hello, Perkins. Is my aunt home?” After some moments the front door had opened and Amy was addressing her question to an elderly gentleman with a full head of gray hair and a stately manner about him that he wore like a cloak.

“Of couse, Miss Amy.” The man nodded, his face expressionless. The couple moved into the foyer as Perkins stepped aside and opened the door wide. “I’ll tell Mrs. Randall you’re here.” His manner was so formal that it was almost comical.

After he moved away, Amy looked at Silas. She had to stifle a giggle with her hand as she watched his brows raise and eyes twinkle. Knowing her laughter would only start his own, Silas turned away from her to survey his surroundings.

Dual staircases rose from the foyer to the second floor in a straight, formal fashion. To the right of the foyer was a small parlor with large windows overlooking the porch. In one corner stood a small fireplace.

Another room—appearing to be a library—branched off the parlor, but Silas did not move to investigate. His eyes swung to the left of the foyer and took in a large living room running almost the full length of the house.

This room, as well as the foyer sported huge windows, some accented with colored or ornately etched glass. The living room overlooked the porch and was full of beautiful furniture. Several
doors exited off this room, and Silas felt an urge to explore. He glanced at Amy to find her watching him.

“Were you hoping I’d be impressed?” Silas’ expression was knowing.

“Are you?” Amy’s grin was downright cheeky.

“What if I said no?” Silas asked with an elaborate shrug.

“I’d say you were a poor liar, Si Cameron.”

“You’d be right,” Silas said with a laugh.

“Amy,” a deep, almost-masculine voice called from the living room. Amy turned and rushed into the arms of a tall, reed-slim woman.

Silas watched as the two shared a long hug. When at last they separated, Bev Randall held Amy at arm’s length. The unfeigned concern Silas saw written on her face endeared her to him immediately. “How is Grant?”

“A little better every day, but he’s been in so much pain,” Amy answered in a trembling whisper, and Silas knew without seeing her face that she was fighting tears. Her aunt knew also and pulled her once again into a firm embrace.

“I wanted to come, but…well…” The words died in the older woman’s throat as Amy nodded her head in silence. Once again the two hugged, this time in unspoken understanding.

Silas suddenly found himself the center of attention. Both women had turned to him and Silas stood quietly, studying Amy’s aunt as intently as she was studying him.

The face before him was thin, cheeks nearly sunken. Something about her mouth led Silas to believe she didn’t smile often. Her eyes were shrewd but not unkind, nor did they waver from his own as she began to speak in an almost-stern tone of voice.

“From Amy’s description, you can’t be anyone other than Silas Cameron.” She paused, and the young people in the room were almost tense as they waited for her to continue. But when she did, there was kindness in her rather gravelly voice. “I must
admit that when Amy told me about you four years ago, I believed it could only be a 14-year-old’s imagination that could create such size. But I was wrong,” she said as she stepped forward with her hand outstretched. “You
are
big.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Randall.”

“Please call me Bev and allow me to thank you for coming to help Grant and Amy.”

“Aunt Bev,” Amy broke in, “how did you know Silas was here to help us?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Two nights ago a large, bearded man arrived by train when the skies were dumping rain on Neillsville. He rented a horse and headed in the direction of the Nolan farm.” Bev smiled at Amy, who was beginning to catch on, and continued her story to a still-confused Silas. “You see, Silas, there isn’t much in this town that goes on without my knowledge. Remembering Amy’s description of you and the direction you headed that night along with finding you in my front room… well, you see it didn’t take a detective.”

The three laughed at this logical explanation for Bev’s nosiness, but Amy sobered quickly upon remembering something.

“Aunt Bev, had you heard about the robbery at the Carlton farm?”

Bev nodded silently, and Silas and Amy watched a pained, troubled expression cross over her features. She opened her mouth to speak, but just then the front door burst open and in strode Evan Randall.

Silas spooned soup into his mouth from the most beautiful china bowl he had ever seen. The spoon in his hand was heavy with a large, ornate “R” engraved on the handle. It was obvious even to the most casual observer that everything in the Randall dining room, and probably the entire house, was of high quality and cost.

As he continued to eat, Silas watched Evan Randall converse with his niece. Silas tried to look at Amy, but she was partially hidden by a vase of fresh flowers sitting on the table between them.

Silas found it odd that Evan made no attempt to include him or his wife in the conversation. Still, Silas continued to study the man.

He was slim like his wife and a few inches taller. His hair was a medium shade of brown but his thin mustache and short, pointed beard were nearly black. Silas studied the man’s eyes. They were unsmiling eyes—even when the corners of Evan’s mouth had turned up, his eyes had stayed flat, almost expressionless. Silas remembered the way they had skimmed over him earlier when they were introduced. Silas had the distinct impression he’d been assessed and found wanting.

Silas’ thoughts were interrupted when the soup bowls were removed. He met Amy’s blue eyes just over the top of a red rose when the butler announced the serving of roast duck.
Those eyes twinkled at him before Amy turned to answer a question posed by her uncle.

The meal progressed, and by the time dessert arrived Silas was a bit antsy. He was not used to taking so much time over a midday meal, and especially when he had not been allowed more than two sentences’ worth of conversation.

Amy also must have been aware of the time. Not more than ten minutes passed after the end of the meal when she said they had to be leaving. She hugged her aunt good-bye and promised to return soon. Silas stayed in the house a moment longer to add his thanks to Bev Randall as Evan walked Amy to the wagon. Once outside, he caught part of their conversation as he approached.

“Please, Amy, don’t reject the idea out of hand. You’ll always be welcome in this home. If you don’t feel good about leaving your father in someone else’s care, then plan to come when he’s back on his feet.”

Amy opened her mouth to speak, but Evan held up his hand to forestall her. “Don’t give me an answer now. Just think on it and know the offer I made before your father’s accident still stands.”

“Alright, Uncle Evan, I’ll talk to you later.” Amy’s voice sounded almost sad.

Silas had boarded the wagon and was surprised when Evan reached across Amy to shake his hand. His smile was almost warm. His words were even more surprising. “I’m glad you’re here, Silas. I hope with your help Amy’s father will be up and about soon.” He didn’t wait for a reply but turned and walked back to the house.

Silas sat for a moment and stared at the woman beside him. When she did not look at him, but sat staring somewhere beyond the horse’s ears, he spoke. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me what that was all about?” He watched Amy frown
and bite her lower lip, telling him she’d heard his question, but she made no move to answer.

Just as silently, Silas urged the team forward. Amy still had not spoken at the edge of town and Silas left her to her thoughts even though his were racing. He had not liked the bit of conversation he’d heard or the unexpected words directed to him from the town banker. Something told him Evan Randall never acted unselfishly. Silas shook his head slightly over his judgmental attitude. The last thing Evan Randall needed was Silas’ condemnation. What he really needed was prayer, and Silas was suddenly thankful for Amy’s silence as he began to pray silently.

Amy, sitting so quietly on her side of the wagon, was praying also. Not just praying, but begging God for wisdom in this impossible situation that was bound to bring pain to someone she loved.

A few weeks before her father’s accident, Evan had approached her about coming to live in town with him and Bev. Amy had been so surprised that she had not known what to say. She had rarely seen her uncle so excited. “You have no social life when you live so far out of town. Bev and I have more space in this house than we know what to do with. I know you would never make this move without talking to your father. But I’ll say this much, Amy,” and here his voice grew very stern, “if your father really loves you he won’t stand in the way of your happiness.”

Amy had been dumfounded by his words. She had never expected to receive such an invitation from her uncle, and she wondered where in the world he got the idea she was unhappy on the farm. Amy was still reeling from shock when her uncle spoke his first insensitive words to her. “I don’t have to remind you, Amy, that Debra Wheeler is a town girl. Now I think Thomas Blane is a fool to give you up and obviously not good
enough for you, but the truth is that the most eligible men are from town and they would naturally want wives from town.”

Had Amy not been so stunned by his words, she would have burst into tears. She was well on her way to getting over Thomas. In fact, she was doing so well she wondered if indeed it had been love she felt for him. But these words coming so cruelly from her adored uncle, that somehow her being from the farm had made her not good enough, were almost more than she could bear. Even now they caused a sharp pain in the region of her heart. It didn’t help that Amy thought Debra Wheeler very beautiful and her pride had suffered a severe blow at being tossed over for one of the most attractive girls in Neillsville.

Suddenly she wanted to talk it over with Silas. But after the way she had treated him in front of her uncle’s house, she wasn’t sure he was speaking to her.

“Silas, are you angry with me?”

“No, should I be?”

“Yes.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well, you asked me a question in town and I wouldn’t even look at you.”

“That’s true. But did you stop to think that I asked you a question that was none of my business?”

Amy shifted on the seat to look at Silas and he pulled the team to a halt. They were still about a half mile from the house.

“Oh Silas, I wasn’t offended by your question—never think that, but I’m in a terrible mess and I really need someone to talk to and it can’t be my dad. If he ever found out, he’d be just crushed.”

“Found out about what?” Silas asked, his eyes leveled on her face. Had she not said a word he would have known something or someone was playing havoc with her heart. For an
instant he thought it might be the man she had been engaged to and wondered why this idea bothered him so much.

Amy was unaware that her face was a mask of confusion and grief as she answered. “Before Dad’s accident, Uncle Evan asked me to come and live with him and Aunt Bev. Today he assured me the offer still stands.”

Amy spoke the words quietly, and Silas understood almost instantly the dilemma she was in. She had long been an envoy of peace amid these two families, and now she found herself between the kettle and the coals. No matter what her choice, someone she loved was going to be hurt.