Big Bad Professor(44)
*****
A month passed beneath the Texas sky; its unforgiving sun roasting the woman who toiled beneath its harsh rays.
A telltale line of sweat beaded Amy’s fair skinned forehead as she struggled to pick just one more ear of corn; her feet heavy and her shoulders heaving as she made her way across the field.
It seemed beyond her comprehension that, just one month before, she had regarded this very field as a place of hope and happiness; joyfully toiling at her husband’s side as they harvested a hopeful future.
Now she worked alone through long, hot days; her only assistant a frail older aunt who resided alone on a neighborhood farm.
Herself a widow, Aunt Grace was a short, petite brunette who worked her own land in addition to serving as an able aide to her beleaguered niece.
Able—if weary and more than a bit cranky.
“Enough, Amy!” she declared one day, straightening herself between two rows of corn as she fixed her tired niece with a cold hard stare. “You must be sensible about this matter before you exhaust the both of us!”
Amy sighed.
“My deepest apologies, Auntie,” she murmured, standing ginger above a tassel of corn as she clutched her weary back with a wan, tired hand. “I simply cannot manage this ranch all by my lonesome, and I know not where else to turn.”
Grace thought a moment, then nodded.
“I know, Girl, and I am more than pleased to help you as much as I’m able,” she told her niece, voice softening as she leaned forward to grace her slender shoulder with a reassuring pat. “It’s just that I cannot tend both your ranch and my own for the duration of the growing season. And you yourself should be resting in bed, awaitin’ the birth of your little one.”
Amy had heard enough.
“I am well and weary of everyone telling me that I am not strong enough to work my own land,” she insisted, adding as she raised a firm finger for emphasis, “This is my ranch, and I plan to tend it. I just need a bit of help, that is all.”
At that moment she felt a slash of pain rip unbidden through her rounded stomach; nearly bringing her to her knees as she gritted her teeth against the agony.
“I wish only that my child would be a bit more cooperative,” she managed through ground teeth, straining to stand upright as her aunt rushed to her side.
“Your child needs a mother who is rested and relaxed,” Grace insisted, adding as she wrapped a supportive arm around her niece’s shoulders, “And as much as I would love to send you to bed and toil in your fields by my lonesome, I simply cannot do so; particularly not when so much of my own work awaits me in my own.”
Amy shrugged.
“Well sadly Auntie, I cannot afford to hire a ranch hand at this point,” she revealed, adding as she cocked her head in her aunt’s direction, “Have you any other ideas?”
Grace looked at her for a long moment, then nodded.
“I do indeed have an idea,” she admitted, adding as she dug deep into the pocket of her soft embroidered denim dress, “You will not like it, but it may indeed be our only hope.”
With these words she produced a weathered newspaper page for Amy’s inspection; unfolding the page to reveal a classified advertisement with an intriguing headline marked mail order bride.
“Ladies,” the ad read, its message conveyed in dark bold letters that shone prominently on the page. “Need you a prince?”
Turning from her aunt in a single bold flourish, a snorting Amy braced her arms before her as she shook her head from side to side in response to these cryptic words.
“I shall not read one more word of that addled fairy tale nonsense,” she declared, adding as she held up a slender hand in the direction of her frowning aunt, “I myself had my own fairy tale—my own enchanted prince.” She paused here, adding as her voice cracked, “Both were fallen and destroyed before my very eyes. Now I have no more need for dreams, Aunt Grace. Dreams die. And so do princes.”
Nodding in tender empathy with these harsh spoken words, Grace placed a gentle hand on her niece’s arm and turned her body towards her; once again holding the newspaper up between them as she told her, “As much as Vance was a very special gentleman, my dear, one that never will be replaced, you must remember that he has left us—never to return, Girl.”
With these words, she squeezed her niece’s shoulder and looked her straight in the eyes.
“You, on the other hand, remain a young woman of great strength and vigor—and, as many have told you, striking beauty,” she praised Amy, adding as she held up the newspaper for her niece’s inspection, “Surely you will not wish to spend the remainder of your days here by your lonesome, with no husband, no lover, no friend or companion. And if you would take only a moment to peruse this gentleman’s advertisement, then you would read of his intellect, his kindness, and his stellar good looks.”