The Strong One (Cutter's Creek Book 2)

by Vivi Holt

  Bill fell silent again, and they rode for several miles that way. The rocking of the horse soon sent Sarah to sleep. She slept fitfully, dreaming of kidnappings, wild horses, and haunted trees that grabbed at her as she ran through the woods. When she next opened her eyes, they were entering Cutter’s Creek. The Todds were standing in front of their house, cleaning out their peddling wagon. Sam stood at their approach, shielding his eyes from the mid-morning sunlight. He said something to Estelle, who stepped toward them, her hands raised into the air as though she were praying a prayer of thanksgiving. Then she ran to them.

  Sarah slipped from Purdy’s back just as Estelle enveloped her in a warm squeeze. Sarah coughed and laughed all at once, as the older woman’s arms wrapped ever more tightly about her slight frame.

  “Estelle, you’re crushing me,” she cried.

  Estelle stepped back, taking hold of both Sarah’s hands. Her eyes filled with tears, which shone under the glow of the sun.

  “I can’t believe it. You’re back. Bill, thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Bill nodded, and stepped away to water and feed his tired horse. The sheriff tipped his hat at Sarah and stopped.

  “Are you all right now, miss?” he asked Sarah.

  “I’m fine. Thank you for everything, Sheriff Brentwood.”

  “I’m takin’ Colt back to the jail with me. No doubt there’ll be warrants for his arrest somewhere or t’other. If there are, he’ll most likely be leavin’ Cutter’s Creek before long.”

  “That’s good to hear, Sheriff,” said Sam.

  “Have a good day, folks.” The sheriff rode off.

  Sarah followed Estelle and Sam into the house. She glanced back once, to watch Bill and Purdy, his head hanging low, disappear around a bend in the road. She wished she could take back the cruel things she’d said to Bill. She had reacted out of fear. She recognized the ugly stirring of it, swirling about in her chest.

  Now that Bill knew the truth, her life was in his hands. Just as Colt had pointed out, Sarah had no one to protect her, no one to take care of her, she was fair game. And anyone who knew that could do what they wished with her, knowing that there would be no repercussions for them. She suddenly felt very vulnerable. If only she hadn’t told Bill the truth. If only things could go back to how they had been before, when the two of them were strangers, sharing a moment of connection.

  “Estelle, Sam, could I speak with you for a moment, please?”

  Sarah sat on the loveseat, and rubbed her hands nervously down the length of her skirt.

  “Yes dear, of course.” The couple sat across from her, beaming with delight at having her back.

  “I want to tell you something, before you hear it another way.” She paused and swallowed heavily. “My full name is Sarah Songan. My mother was Apsáalooke, my father… an English soldier.”

  She watched their faces closely, to gauge their reaction. Neither one of them spoke, nor did their expressions change.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “That’s it. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

  “Oh, all right. Thank you for sharing that with us,” said Sam.

  “I’m going to put some coffee on, would you like a cup?” asked Estelle, standing to her feet.

  “Well, yes I would, thank you.” Sarah furrowed her brow in confusion. Their response wasn’t what she had been expecting. She thought they would have some kind of reaction to her news, but they’d had none at all, that she could tell.

  “Aren’t you angry that I kept it from you?” asked Sarah.

  “No dear, of course not. You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to.”

  Sarah followed Estelle into the kitchen, and tipped her head to one side. “Do you want me to leave, then?”

  “Why would we want that, dear?” Estelle pushed the full kettle onto the stovetop, and bent to light the flame.

  “No reason, I guess. So, you’re fine with it?”

  “Of course. We take you as you are, whatever that involves.” Estelle smiled at her, and reached for the coffee canister.

  Sarah grasped Estelle’s hand, and lifted it to press against her cheek, then excused herself, to find sanctuary in the small bedroom she now considered her own. Lost in thought, she stood and regarded her reflection in the looking glass hanging on the wall.

  Why did Bill come after her in the first place? They’d really only just met, and he risked his life to spend a cold night in the wilderness searching for her. He confronted a criminal to bring her back to Cutter’s Creek. He even prayed for her. Why did he do those things? Surely he must care about her, but no one had ever done anything like that for Sarah before. Only her mother and best friend Ky loved her enough to risk their lives for her. Bill barely knew her. Would he risk his life for any stranger, or just for her?

  It didn’t matter now, anyway. He knew she was Apsáalooke, and she’d seen his face when she revealed her secret to him. She was certain she wouldn’t be seeing him again, and so much the better. But something deep inside her felt the pain of that thought. She groaned and threw herself down on the bed with a sigh, rolling onto her side and slipping her folded hands under her head. She tucked her feet up beneath her, and closed her eyes.

  A gentle knock at the door made her eyes flick opened. Estelle cracked the door and peeked through.

  “Soup dear?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes please. I’m absolutely starving. That sounds delicious.”

  “I know it’s a little early in the day for soup, but I thought it might be just the kind of comforting food you needed.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  Sarah sat up on the edge of the bed and took the tray holding a steaming bowl of pea and ham soup, a chunk of freshly baked garlic roll and a cup of dark coffee from Estelle’s wrinkled hands.

  “Estelle?” Sarah took a bite of bread, and chewed for a moment before continuing. “What is prayer? I’ve heard people talk about it before, but when Bill found me he said he’d prayed for me. He seemed to think that somehow God had guided him to me or something.”

  Estelle smiled and sat beside Sarah on the bed. “Well, God is the creator of the universe. He’s a spiritual being who made us all, and he loves us very much.”

  “Oh, like Akbaatatdia – that’s what we call the Creator.”

  “Yes, like that, but different. We believe that our God is the one true God. And when we talk to Him, that’s prayer. We can pray to Him at any time, and he answers us.”

  “He answers? How?”

  “In different ways. Sometimes we hear His answer in our mind. There have been times throughout history when people have literally heard His voice, but usually it’s more of a still, quiet sound in our own thoughts.

  “He answers in other ways too, like guiding Bill to find you, or providing what we might need at the moment that we need it; or filling us with the love, comfort, joy or peace that we long for.”

  Sarah nodded and ate while she listened. It was so much to take in, she wasn’t sure about God, or whether he was the same as Akbaatatdia, who the Apsáalooke worshipped. She hadn’t really been very impressed with Akbaatatdia over the years, never seeing any impact on her life when she or her family needed anything. But if this God was able to help Bill find her, and bring her safely back to Cutter’s Creek, maybe there was something to what they were saying about Him.

  “Could I pray, do you think?” she asked, her eyes fixed on Estelle’s face. She slurped up a spoonful of soup, then laid the spoon on the tray.

  “Yes, my dear. Of course you can.”

  “What should I say?”

  “What would you like to say?”

  “I really don’t know.” Sarah felt her cheeks flushing with warmth. It was a strange idea to talk to a being who may, or may not exist, but who she couldn’t see.

  “Well, how about you try this for a start? Just say, ‘God, please reveal yourself to me. I want to know you.’ Do you think you could do that?”

  “Yes, I suppose I
could say that.”

  “Just close your eyes, and speak it out.”

  Sarah closed her eyes, and felt Estelle’s hand cover hers. “God, please reveal yourself to me. I want to know you. If you’re real, show me.”

  Her eyes flew open, “Oh.”

  “What is it?” asked Estelle.

  “I just had the strangest sensation rush through me.” She shivered – it was a feeling she’d never experienced before, and it filled her with delight.

  “What did it feel like?”

  “Like happiness, or something. It was peaceful, and I wasn’t worried about anything for a moment. It gave me goose bumps.” Sarah rubbed her hands up and down her arms, smoothing out the small pimples that covered her skin. She beamed at Estelle. “Was that God?”

  Estelle’s eyes glistened with tears. “Yes, my dear, strong girl. That was God, and what you just experienced of Him is only the beginning.”

  Chapter 14

  The next day Bill knocked solidly on the door of the Todd’s small house. Smoke wafted from the chimney, and the house buzzed with the muted sounds of activity within its walls. The door opened and Sam stood on the threshold, an enormous grin splitting his round face in two.

  “Bill, so good to see you. Won’t you come in for a bit and have a drink?”

  “Thank you, Sam.”

  Bill stepped inside. He slipped his Stetson from his head, and held it awkwardly in front of him, spinning it about in place.

  “So nice to see you, Bill.” Estelle called from the kitchen. She hurried into the living room and handed Bill a tall glass of ice-cold lemonade, and a plate holding a thick slice of chocolate cake.

  “You too, Estelle. Thank you, this looks tasty.”

  Sam and Estelle seated themselves on the sofa, and Bill lowered himself onto the remaining love seat. He balanced the plate on one knee, letting his hat sit on the other knee, freeing up his hands to eat.

  He took a bite of the cake, and nodded at Estelle. “Wow, that’s fantastic. What is your secret?”

  “Butter,” Estelle’s eyes twinkled.

  Bill swallowed, and felt his cheeks color as he asked, “Is Sarah home?”

  “Yes, she sure is. I’ll just go and get her.” Estelle stood and rushed from the room, calling for Sarah. Bill heard her knock on the bedroom door down the hall, and the door clicked opened, then shut behind her. He heard the two women murmuring together for a few moments, then Estelle returned, a smile plastered to her face.

  “Well, well. It seems Sarah has a headache and wishes to stay in bed. But never mind, Bill. I’m sure she’ll be better by tomorrow.”

  Bill nodded. She didn’t want to see him. He felt terrible about how things had ended between them the day before, when he’d returned her to Cutter’s Creek, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

  He knew when things had gone wrong, because her demeanor changed the moment it happened. It was when she told him her last name. But why that would bother her so much was beyond him. It certainly didn’t trouble him, and he hadn’t made a fuss about it. So why was she so upset with him?

  And now she refused to see him. There must still be something she wasn’t telling him. It was true that there were folks who would have reported her and had her dragged back to the Apsáalooke. But he had no intention of doing that, and if she didn’t know that about him by now, after all he’d done for her, then he didn’t know what he had to do to get her to trust him.

  Bill finished his slice of cake and chugged down the rest of his lemonade.

  “Well, I’d best get going. I have a lot of work to do back at the ranch. I just thought I’d stop in to see how Sarah was doing. She’s had quite the scare.”

  “Oh, don’t you fret. She’s fine. She’ll recover no doubt, thanks to you,” said Sam, standing with Bill as they made their way to the front door.

  “That’s good to hear. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “We’ll be here.”

  “Bye then.”

  “Goodbye, Bill.”

  ***

  The following day, Bill arrived on the Todds’ doorstep with a bunch of freshly plucked wild roses in his hands. But Sarah still wouldn’t see him. Sam and Estelle apologized profusely, but Bill could see that all of his attempts to get through to her were just pushing her further away. He wasn’t making any progress like this.

  There had been a connection between them. He’d felt it, and he was sure she’d felt it too. Why was she putting up these walls between them? He wanted to get to know her. There was something special about her, something that drew him back to the Todds’ doorstep. Something that made him think of her while he was working on the ranch, or hunting for game. Something that he couldn’t shake, no matter how he tried. And yet, the exasperating thing about it all was that she wanted nothing more to do with him.

  Bill shook his head as he swung up onto Purdy’s back. He pushed Purdy into a gallop and they headed out of town. He needed to do some hunting. It helped to clear his head and he was hankering for some rabbit stew. After years of torment, fighting in the war down south, Bill finally felt as though he’d found some peace in life. All he wanted was to share that with Sarah. He just wished she would stop fighting it, and admit what he already knew – they belonged together.

  He grabbed his rifle from the handy hold on his saddle and slung it over his shoulders. Then he jumped from Purdy’s back and flicked the reins around a branch on a nearby yew tree. As he made his way into the woods, his eyes flitted about, looking for signs of game. He lifted his rifle from where it hung across his shoulders, balanced it in front of him, and crept forward. As he aimed at a group of rabbits sitting around the hole to their warren, he said a quick prayer.

  God, please help Sarah to see me for who I am. I just want her to give me a chance. Help her to feel safe enough to let me into her heart.

  He pulled the trigger, and watched the rabbit fall. Before his hunting trip was over, he’d collected four rabbits. He trotted back to town with the kill slung across the pommel of his saddle with rope. When he reached the Todds’ house, he knocked on the door and handed two of the rabbits over to a surprised Estelle, who thanked him profusely. Then, he jumped onto Purdy’s broad back and headed out of town again, this time to the ranch.

  Mrs. Gilmore would be pleased with the other two rabbits he’d shot. Bill’s stomach growled at the thought of the fine stew they would make. He urged Purdy forward, leaning over his neck. The horse galloped along the winding track, kicking up a trail of dust behind them.

  ***

  The chapel loomed tall in front of Sarah, and she stumbled backward.

  “Are you all right, my dear?” asked Estelle, putting her hand on Sarah’s arm. Her face was blanketed in concern, and she frowned at Sam.

  “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just the first time I’ve been back to the church since… since it happened.”

  “I know, my dear. But you’re quite safe. Colt’s in prison, nothing’s going to happen to you, we can assure you of that.”

  “Yes, of course. I know that. I’m fine. Really I am.”

  Sarah felt her world spinning, and she leaned on Estelle’s arm for support. They walked up the stairs and through the front door, and Sarah had a flashing memory of Colt’s scowling face as he flung her over his shoulder, rushed her through the doors, and carried her away. She gasped, and threw her hand across her mouth.

  “Perhaps we should sit near the back,” suggested Sam.

  “Good idea. Let’s sit, my dear,” said Estelle.

  They sidled into a pew and sat down, while Sarah breathed slowly and deeply to calm her racing heart. The church was almost completely full. Families, dressed in their Sunday best, with shiny faces and wet-combed hair, all sat side-by-side down the length of the chapel, which was filled with rows upon rows of timber pews.

  Children, running and squealing down the aisles, were shushed and pulled into seats by blushing mothers. Men talked solemnly with other men, and women w
hispered to each other through earnest smiles. The pastor made his way to the pulpit, and the room grew quiet. Just then, Bill Hanover slid into the pew beside Sarah. He glanced at her with a grin, his hat in his hands, and his dark hair slicked down on either side of his face. He turned to watch the pastor.

  Sarah studied Bill’s face for a few moments. There was something very attractive about his chiseled features, the curve of small lines around the sides of his lips, and his sun-kissed skin. She felt something deep inside of her shift as she watched him. As though a gate had opened, and some of the tension she’d been storing in her stomach drifted away and was replaced by a feeling of security she’d never experienced before.

  “…and we can pray, and ask our Father in heaven for anything in His name, and He will give it to us,” the pastor’s voice rang out through the chapel, echoing into the vaulted ceilings and bringing Sarah out of her reverie.

  “He is good, and a good Father knows better than to give a stone to His child when the child has asked for bread. A good Father gives good things to His children. The Bible tells us in the book of Matthew, Chapter Seven, verses seven and eight:

  Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.

  Sarah listened, her brow furrowed. She wasn’t entirely sure what the pastor was talking about. Was he saying that the God they worshiped would give her anything, if she only asked for it? Surely, that couldn’t be true. She scanned the room, and saw heads nodding in agreement as the townsfolk listened to the pastor’s words.

  Go ahead and ask.

  The thought came to her head suddenly, and Sarah wasn’t sure if she’d thought it, or it had been spoken to her. What would she ask for, if she could have anything? She had to think about it for a few moments. There were so many things missing from her life. So many things she longed for. But without a doubt, the one thing that she wished for more than anything else was to be loved. To have someone to love, and to be loved by someone in return. That was her heart’s greatest desire. She decided to put this God, who the pastor was speaking of, to the test. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands together in her lap.