“I…I wanted to ask him about the herd they are rounding up for market.”
“You’re finally taking an interest in the ranch?”
“Yes. Is there something wrong with that?”
Summer shook her head sadly. “Do you know what hurts the most, Melly? We used to be friends, sisters. Not strangers. Not enemies. You never used to lie to me.”
Amelia winced, and for a moment, her gaze looked anguished. But then she stiffened, straightening her shoulders. “I am not your enemy, Summer.”
“No? You are doing your best to drive my husband out of the county. I think that makes you my enemy.”
“If I am…it’s only because he shouldn’t be here. Lance Calder doesn’t belong.”
Pulling herself up out of the rocking chair, Summer rose slowly to her full height. “You’ve made yourself believe that, but he does belong here, Amelia. Lance has every bit as much right to stay here as you or I. He owns this ranch now, my part of it anyway—”
Amelia shook her head bitterly. “What would Papa say if he heard you?”
Summer raised her chin, holding her sister’s gaze unwaveringly. “I don’t care what he would say. Papa is dead—and I can’t honestly say I’m sorry. While he lived, he was too blinded by hatred to give Lance a fair chance.” She ignored the shock on her sister’s face. “Just as you are blinded now. I warn you, though, Amelia. I mean to stand by him, no matter how difficult you and Prewitt make life for us. If I must choose between the two of you, then I’ll choose Lance. Without question.”
“You would turn your back on your own family?”
“Not entirely. Lance is my family now. He’s my husband. And the father of the child I’m carrying.”
Shock turned to horror as Amelia stared. “You’re…”
“Yes, I am going to have his baby.”
“Oh, God…a Comanche…”
Summer’s jaw hardened as she stepped close to Amelia. “Yes, Comanche. Feel this, Melly.” She grabbed his sister’s hand to press it hard against her stomach. “There is a life growing inside me! My child and Lance’s. And yours, too, in part. You are going to be this baby’s aunt.”
“No…”
“Yes. He is your family, your flesh and blood, whether you like it or not.”
“No!” Amelia recoiled, jerking her hand away.
Summer smiled coldly, relentless in her scorn. “I’d even go so far as to say you share responsibility for his conception. In order to save you, Lance married me—and this baby is the result. This child will be born because of you.”
Amelia covered her mouth with her trembling hands.
Summer’s fierce glare softened. “I don’t think you mean to be so cruel, Melly. I can’t believe you would condemn an innocent child to the terrible life of an outcast.”
Amelia’s eyes filled with tears, but her only response was to turn and grope blindly for the door.
Summer’s quiet voice stopped her from leaving, however. “Don’t do this to Lance, Melly. Please…I’m begging you. Don’t hurt him any more than he’s already been hurt. I love him, Melly. It may not have started out that way. I resented him at first, for forcing me to marry him. But that’s all changed now. I want Lance as my husband. I want him as the father of my child.”
With a choked sob that was almost inaudible, Amelia pushed open the door and fled.
When Lance faced Amelia some ten hours later in the front parlor of the Weston house, she looked pale and subdued. In the deceptive lamplight, he found it hard to tell whether sleeplessness or weeping had caused the dark circles under her eyes.
Amelia wouldn’t meet his gaze, although now and then she risked a fearful glance at him. Lance watched her with similar wariness as he stood inside the parlor door.
To say that he had been surprised by her peculiar summons would have been an understatement. Calvin Stapp had found him out on the range just before dusk and told him that Miss Amelia wanted him to come to the house, that she had something to show him. She wouldn’t say what it was, though.
His first reaction, absurdly, had been hope. The irrational, foolish hope that the woman had somehow relented in her attitude toward him and was willing to take the first step toward making amends.
A stupid hope, obviously, he realized as he recognized that look of fear and contempt twisting her features.