Song for Silas, A (9 page)

Silas stood over the basin in the kitchen and scrubbed at the paint on his right hand with a small brush. It felt as though he were removing more skin than paint. He figured he could take more time tomorrow and use some turpentine, so he put the brush down and finished washing up for supper.

Silas had already helped Grant to the table, and he and Amy were waiting patiently for Silas to sit down. Grant’s spirits, which were already high, soared when Silas told him he had finished the back of the house and would concentrate on the trim the rest of the week.

They talked about the planting which could be started next week if the good weather held. Grant could see that Silas was starving, so he took pity on him and held his conversation for dessert.

Silas was on his second piece of cake when Grant said, “I’d like you to head into town this week, no later than Thursday. There are a few things you’ll need for next week. Even if we get rained out of our plans, I’ll feel better when we have what’s on that list.”

“That’s fine. Amy, do you need anything from town?”

“Yes, about six items if you think you’ll have time.”

“I’m sure I will.” He smiled and Amy smiled back. As the day progressed, the two of them seemed to be back on old terms—warm, friendly, and a bit teasing.

After Silas thanked Amy for the meal and complimented her cooking, he turned to Grant. “Grant, where would you like to be?” Silas asked the older man, able to tell he was not at all taxed from his time at the supper table as he usually was.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Grant said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’d like to go into the living room and listen to my daughter play the piano.”

“Well, do I have anything to say about this?” Amy said with a teasing tone. She, too, could see that her father was in fine form this evening.

“No, you don’t. You just do as you’re told or I’ll see you out to the woodshed.”

“But Dad,” Amy said with a laugh, “we don’t have a woodshed.”

“I know, but we did when I was a kid and that threat always worked on me.”

Silas wondered as he settled back on the couch if he could ever grow tired of hearing Amy play. Not likely, he was sure.

The window near the piano was open, and Silas watched as the breeze lifted a strand of her golden blonde hair. With the lanterns turned high, her hair shone with health and cleanliness.

As he continued to watch her, he remembered how good she had smelled as he’d passed her in the kitchen—like spring flowers and fresh air.

Amy looked up then and smiled at her dad and then Silas. Silas’ breath caught in his throat at her beauty. Even as special as she had been as a child, Silas would never have dreamed she would grow into such a beautiful young woman. Talented,
loving, giving, godly—really all the things a man would want in the woman he lov…

Between one heartbeat and the next, Silas Cameron fell head over heels in love with Amy Nolan. Silas sat frozen as his heart thundered painfully in his chest. “I’m in love with her!” he thought in wonder. Silas, having thought of himself as just a big brother, a friend, and a confidant, sat looking at Amy in stunned disbelief.

He realized it had been coming for a while. He had labeled it protectiveness and the special way a brother felt for his little sister, but it was love.

Now he knew why he could listen to her playing forever— because he wanted to be
with
her forever. He wanted her for his wife.

This joyful realization lasted only seconds. Amy thought of him as a big brother. At one time, this was special beyond words, but a big brother was the very last thing he wanted to be to Amy right now.

Despair quickly set in as Silas remembered Amy had said she planned to never marry. Silas looked quickly away from Amy. He was afraid she would glance over and see in his eyes all he was feeling.

Silas’ heart nearly stopped as he averted his eyes from Amy only to have them lock with Grant’s. Grant’s look was one of compassion and understanding.
He knows
, Silas realized.
He knew even before I did.

Amy ended the number just then and Grant quickly spoke up. “I think I’m ready to turn in now, Amy. Thank you, honey, you played beautifully.”

The two men went alone to Grant’s room and Silas saw Grant settled in for the night. Silas turned to leave, but Grant caught his arm. Silas had been avoiding the older man’s eyes. He wanted desperately to be alone with his newfound feelings. But with Grant’s hand holding him, he had little choice.

Grant said not a word as Silas’ eyes met his. He held the young man with his eyes as well as his hand for a long moment. Whatever he had been searching for in Silas’ face he must have found, for he slowly nodded his head in silent approval and bid Silas good-night.

Silas’ good-night to Amy was hasty. He had to escape to his room. He wasn’t the least bit tired, but the need to be alone was overpowering. It was long into the night before he slept.

“Silas, do you miss your mom?”

“Very much.”

Amy’s mind was four years back in time. Silas had been scheduled to leave for home in two days. They were talking up on the bluff behind her house, seated beneath the big oaks. The spot was Amy’s favorite thinking place.

“Do you think about her all the time?”

“Not so much now, but right after she died I thought about her constantly.”

Amy was silent for a long time. When she turned to Silas, there were tears in her eyes—the first he’d seen. “It’s not fair,” she whispered. “It’s not fair that she’s gone and now you’re leaving, too.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” was all he could say as he folded her within his arms. Amy sobbed then. The arms holding her close and the loving endearment were too much. The tears came in a torrent.

Silas continued to hold her and speak quietly to her, stroking her hair and calling her sweetheart. He told her God understood her pain and that He was there for her.

Amy could not remember anything after that. The next day Silas had told her she had cried herself to sleep in his arms. Silas had carried her all the way back to the house and delivered her
into the arms of her anxious father who had been watching them from the house.

What Amy did not know, since her father put her to bed and she slept through the night, was that Silas had retired to his room to let his own tears fall. Tears for the 13-year-old boy he had been while watching his mother’s body being lowered into the ground. Tears for the 14-year-old girl who had had no siblings with which to share her grief. This young girl who was lonely and scared, who was having to say good-bye to him now that their friendship had become so special.

Amy came out of her reverie when she heard the team and wagon in the yard. For a moment she stood at the kitchen window and wondered what had brought on her memory. She loved it when Silas called her sweetheart. He was the only person who did, and it gave her a special feeling inside. Maybe that was what she wanted—that special feeling. Silas had been so distant for the last few days. Amy told herself he must be homesick. But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true. As Amy watched out the window, she thought she saw some white paper in Silas’ shirt pocket. She hoped he had gotten a letter from home. That was sure to cheer him up.

Silas spotted Amy at the window, but he kept his face turned away. He had received letters from home, but he hadn’t even looked at them. He had also seen Bev Randall in town, and she had given Silas a verbal message for Amy. It was not a happy message and, along with trying to keep his feelings for her hidden, he had the starting of a headache. It looked to be a long evening.

Silas was sure he should wait until tomorrow to deliver his message to Amy, but when Amy said her dad wanted a tray in his room, Silas knew the time was now.

He knew he was acting oddly from the looks Amy kept sending him. She had been eyeing him curiously for the last few days. He was not succeeding in his act, wanting her to believe nothing between them had changed.

The signs of love—watchfulness, the need to be close, wanting to touch—were new to Silas and, because he had to hide them, painful.

Silas had worked at not reaching for her hand or touching her hair more than once in the last few days. The times when Amy had casually touched his arm as she spoke had been torture. Silas wanted to take her small hand in his own and hold it for hours.

Last night Amy had teased him and flicked water in his direction while they were doing the dishes. When she had turned to him, her face wreathed in smiles and laughter, Silas had gripped the dishcloth tightly to keep from grabbing and kissing her.

“Silas, did you hear from home?” The silence between them continued to lengthen as they ate, and Amy could no longer stand it.

“Now, Silas,” he said to himself as he faced Amy across the table. “I did get letters from home, but I haven’t read them yet.” Amy’s brow rose in questioning surprise, but she stayed silent.

“I saw your aunt while in town. She sent you a message.” Silas’ somber tone frightened Amy. “There will be no summer wedding for Thomas Blane and Debra Wheeler because they were married quietly on Monday. She said to tell you that it’s not town gossip. She spoke directly to Thomas.” Silas paused and his voice dropped low. “Thomas told your aunt that Debra is pregnant; the baby is due in the fall. Mr. Wheeler insisted
they move the wedding up and Mrs. Wheeler insisted they live with them until the baby is born.

“Your aunt said she wanted to tell you herself, but felt a message from me was better than waiting and having you possibly hear the news through the gossip lines.”

Silas watched as dismay and sadness showed in Amy’s eyes. Silas knew that any emotional pain he had previously felt was minimal compared to the pain he felt in knowing the woman he loved was in love with another man.

“I’m sorry, Amy.” Silas’ voice was husky with raw emotion.

Amy looked at the big, gentle man across from her and knew she had to clarify things for him. He was hurting for her, and she knew that in a few words she could lessen the pain. “Si, I’m not in love with Thomas. In fact, I’ve begun to wonder if I ever was. I’m sorry for both Thomas and Debra. In fact, a part of me can understand how easily it could happen. But as painful as Thomas’ rejection was, I’m glad we’re not married. It obviously would have been a mistake.”

Silas felt as though the weight of the earth had been lifted from his shoulders. But his feeling of euphoria didn’t last.

“You see, Si, I feel that my dad needs me here. This is my home. My decision not to marry has nothing to do with Thomas breaking off with me. I feel this is God’s way of showing me this is where I belong—here, taking care of my father. And even if I had doubts about my feelings, Dad’s accident confirmed them. He needs me here.”

“Amy, does your dad know you feel this way? Somehow I think he would want you to have a home of your own.” Silas made no attempt to hide the distress her words caused him.

But Amy didn’t take his words personally. “Oh Silas, I know you mean well, but this
is
my home. You’re going to think it’s silly, but whenever I’m away even for a trip into town, as soon
as I spot our farm my heart begins to sing. I know this is where I belong.”

“Well, Amy, your aunt will be glad you were not overly upset.” The statement sounded inane even to his own ears, but he couldn’t possibly tell her what he was really thinking.

Amy noticed Silas’ surprise upon hearing her beliefs, but she knew she was right. In fact, so sure was she that her mind had already moved back to Thomas and Debra. She didn’t even notice when Silas refused dessert and quickly excused himself to check on the cows.