A Match for Sarah

by Marlene Bierworth

  “That didn’t come out right,” Nick said. “You will notice I am deficient when it comes to communicating what’s on my mind.”

  “Then I shall be sure to ask for confirmation when you make outlandish comments.”

  “That might be helpful,” he said, grabbing her hand and turning to face her. “I need you to know I’m not a pushy sort of fellow who demands his way. I want to put your mind at ease, knowing that marriage is a big step for a woman. We have two bedrooms in the cabin, and I’ll stay in mine until you invite me to yours.”

  Sarah blushed. “That is a generous offer, and I appreciate it more than words can say. And just so you know what I’m thinking on our first day together, I can’t wait to fall in love with you, Nick Trafton, and make our happiness complete.”

  “Now, that’s music to my ears. Sis says love is worth waiting for.”

  Sarah laughed. “I shall have to thank your sister for all the prompting she has given you. I’m quite certain she will be my first friend in this new land.”

  Nick started up the steps, staring at her by his side. Her dark hair, intense eyes, and shapely figure held him captive. Her dress was a simple dark-colored style, which suited how his mind pictured her character; somehow straightforward with an aura of mystique. He could hardly take his eyes off her, and in his preoccupation, he managed to trip on one of the steps.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Did I tell you that you are lovely, Sarah Parkesdale, and that I will be proud to share my name with you?”

  “Thank you, Nick. I’ve been practicing the name Sarah Trafton all the way here on the train, and I’ve grown quite fond of it.”

  Nick took a deep breath before opening the door. His meeting with his brothers had not gone well, especially Jethro. He thought he could win Saul over but not with Jethro spouting his hatred. Nick had no idea leaving the farm a couple of years ago to sow his wild oats would have created such a gulf between them. And now, here he was, getting hitched. Sarah expected that he was a farmer who’d be home every night for supper and not off chasing leads to find the latest thief whose mug he found on a poster at the sheriff’s office. Bounty hunting paid well, but a man could just as easily get a bullet in the head for his efforts. That made farming a better line of work for a married man, still, just the thought of staying housebound left him feeling suffocated.

  It was too late to turn back now. As Nick ushered Sarah into the back cloakroom, Genevieve came rushing over. She grasped Sarah’s hands and beamed. “You must be Nick’s Sarah.” She looked at him and grinned. “Pretty, indeed, big brother.”

  “Pretty on the inside, too, Genevieve,” he said. “Isn’t that the most important?”

  “Touché! Are you ready, or do you need more time to get acquainted with Nicolas? He can be a bit of a handful at times, but his heart is good.”

  “I came all this way to marry the man,” Sarah said, glancing at Nick and keeping up the brave face he admired. “Suppose we best get the deed done. I understand yours was a rather speedy courtship, as well.”

  “It was! All the same day, but I don’t regret it for a minute,” Genevieve said, pointing to her husband across the room. “That’s Trace over there. Isn’t he dashing?” Gen winked at Nick. “Almost as dashing as my dear brother, who should be standing at the front beside Pastor Quinn, waiting for his bride and not back here delaying the proceedings.”

  Nick threw his hands in the air as a surrender. “All right. You’ve made your point.” He looked at Sarah. “See you at the altar, Miss Parkesdale.” He watched her grimace at the use of her surname when they’d agreed to first names. “Last time, I promise.”

  Yes, that would be the last time she’d be addressed as “miss.” Deep in his heart, he felt a peace settle over him. Matrimony might just be the best idea his sister had come up with yet.

  A cheerful song began to play, and Sarah started the march down the aisle, carrying the bouquet of spring flowers Nick had picked fresh that morning and given to Genevieve to pass along. The yellow and white splashes against her dark dress wakened her ivory complexion, changing it to a rosy glow. Her intense eyes sparkled with an excitement he had not seen earlier. When her gaze connected with his, she held him captive, and Nick thought how easy it would be to fall in love with this woman. He swallowed hard, realizing it might turn out to be the best day of his life…or the worst. Of course, only time would tell. He’d only known the girl for two hours.

  Pastor Quinn Stephenson performed a simple ceremony, and Nick slipped the gold band he’d purchased the day before on her left-hand ring finger to seal the pact. He was really doing it; marrying a complete stranger. Without a push from Genevieve, such a thought would never have entered his mind. He found a measure of comfort in the fact that he’d have her to blame when things went sour—correction; if things went sour.

  “You may kiss your bride.”

  The decent thing to do would have been to kiss her cheek, but the man in him wanted nothing more than to lay a passionate claim on those naturally red lips.

  The pastor stared at them when they hesitated before complying with his request.

  Nick bent low, plagued by uncertainty, and after a quick check of his intentions, he brushed his lips over hers, barely making contact on the way to her cheek, where he lingered longer than necessary.

  Trace, his brother-in-law, yanked him away to congratulate him by shaking his hand, while Genevieve hugged his bride freely. Nick felt a twinge of regret at his quick decision, for he’d wanted to grab the new Mrs. Trafton in his arms and hug her fiercely, but he dared not. This woman would be a hard one to keep his hands off, but he’d given his word, and his word was his bond.

  Nick’s sisters ushered them into a side room where the congregation enjoyed many social gatherings. He began the formal introductions, grinning when he started with his wife. “This is Mrs. Sarah Trafton from Texas. Sarah, these are my sisters; Genevieve, Grace, and Ruth. And these burly men belong to them. Gen’s husband, Trace Stapleton, and Freddie was the last to join the family—before you—and as you can see by the size of Grace, is providing the first next-generation baby. My little sister, Ruth, is still teasing the boys and taking her time choosing suitors. And this one,” Nick said, pointing to a curly-haired young man, “is my youngest brother Saul, single and available as of yet. And it looks like my dear sister-in-law, Sandy, was not successful in persuading her stubborn husband, Jethro, to come to my wedding.”

  “He sends his apologies, Nick,” Sandy said, both of them knowing that was not the case, “but I would not have missed it for the world. It is so nice to meet you, Sarah. Welcome to this crazy family.”

  Sarah smiled. “It’s so nice to meet you all. I look forward to getting to know everyone.”

  Nick took her by the arm. “Not if I can help it, my dear. I plan on keeping us very busy, setting up the house just the way you want it. I left some details for your opinion and special touch. Wanted it to feel like your home.”

  “That was very considerate.” She looked at her new sisters-in-law. “In my wildest dreams, I had no idea my mail-order groom would be so accommodating.”

  “Yeah,” Saul said in a pleasant voice, layered with enough sarcasm that everyone but the stranger in the group would be sure to pick up. “Nick is full of surprises.”

  “Sandy, did you make those lemon squares I love so much?” Gen asked.

  That was the cue for the group to head to a small table on which were two plates of yummy desserts, some cold fruit punch, and a pot of hot coffee. Plates, cups, and glasses sat to one side, and Nick picked up one and handed it to Sarah. “You are the guest of honor—will you start?”

  “Let me fill the glasses with some punch,” Trace offered, “so we can toast the newlyweds.” When everyone had a glass in their hands, he said, “To Nick and Sarah—may they know the joy this blessed union can bring two people, and protect and cherish their love until their rocking chair years.”

  “Hear, hear,” the cheers went up. />
  Nick could see the happiness on his bride’s face, and he was glad his sister had gotten everyone together under the same roof for the occasion—all except his biggest obstacle, Jethro, with whom he had no idea how he might bridge the gap between them. Nick had only himself to blame. He’d left the family high and dry after his father had died and now reaped the results of his impulsive act. Father’s pride and joy, the one who most loved their little piece of heaven outside Denver, was hostile and had not welcomed Nick’s return to the farm. So far, he’d made no headway gaining a foot back inside the Trafton brothers’ farmstead. Jethro and Saul had it under control and did not want his interference. He had no idea how to tell Sarah he merely lived on the family land as an unwelcome, prodigal son who had returned too late to take his place as head of the household.

  Those thoughts were for another day. He figured he could keep his bride in the dark for at least the first week of their marriage while they settled in and spent some honeymoon time alone, even if his promise had put a certain level of boundaries on what most men expected on their wedding nights. The only advice the pastor had given him about how to honor his new wife was to be a man of his word and treat her as God did His church, which was a huge undertaking, one he felt uncertain he could attain.

  When the newlyweds left the church, his family threw rice in the yard as he helped her board the wagon. She waved as he released the brake and pulled onto the road that headed to the train station. Once there, he lugged her large chest and two heaping bags onto the back, dismantled the noisy contraptions his family had tied to the rear of the wagon to announce the newlyweds’ departure through the town, and climbed back in beside Sarah on the front bench seat. He’d been the center of attention longer than he liked, and he couldn’t wait to get back to the cabin.

  “Is that everything?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Sarah said. Almost apologetically, she added, “I started to fill my hope chest with the odd gift and some embroidery pieces I managed to do when I was not working. Still, I’m afraid I sadly lack the bounty of treasures a bride might bring to garnish her first home.”

  “Not to worry,” he said. “I’ve put money aside. Thought I’d give you a day to take inventory of all the things I know I forgot, and then I’ll bring you back into Denver for a shopping day.”

  “I see you have given careful consideration, as to what it takes for two strangers to settle into a house together.”

  “We’re not strangers anymore, Sarah, and I refuse to think of you that way. And, if it was a house this morning when I left, it will become a home the moment you enter. Our home.”

  Sarah grinned. “You are spoiling me with kindness. It appears the Lord has heard and answered my heart’s prayers.”

  “Good, then, let’s be off and finish your day on a good note, Sarah Trafton.” Nick hit the lines on the back of the team, and they sprung into motion. Soon the shops and city streets were behind them, and as they traveled along Pine Road, he explained passing details.

  “The original Trafton homestead, where Jethro and Sandy live—and Ruth until some lucky chap whisks her off—is down that lane about a quarter of a mile. I broke a new entrance for us a little farther down. The cabin is close to Millers Creek, and the spectacular view of yonder mountain is out your back door.”

  “I love mountains,” Sarah said. “It reminds me how puny man is amongst the splendor of such majesty and how great is our God.”

  “Pleased to hear that,” Nick said. “I’d have a lot of trouble moving that obstacle from your view.”

  She laughed. “I love your sense of humor. Do you always ease through new situations using comic relief?”

  “Dear, no! I am a pessimist who uses humor to hide his jitters.”

  “Do I make you nervous, or is it the expectations you deem necessary to keep your fragile wife happy?”

  He stared at her. “You ask a lot of questions I haven’t even considered.”

  “Live life by the scruff of your pants,” Sarah stated, rather than asked, as she reached to cover the hand that clutched the lines tightly. “I can live with that, so, relax. I do believe you are the most nervous bridegroom I have ever seen.”

  “And what makes you so cool?”

  “I happen to have married an understanding man who is bringing me to my own home, the very first I have lived in my entire life. I have much to celebrate.”

  “You never lived in a home with your parents in Texas?”

  “We lived in an elite mansion upcountry among the wealthiest Texans.” Sarah glanced at Nick, whose eyes bugged out with astonishment. “Settle down—my mother and I had rooms in the servant’s quarters and managed the kitchen.”

  “The kitchen! Now I know why I liked you the moment I met you.”

  “Did you, Mr. Trafton? Are you saying I look like a kitchen maid?”

  “No, not exactly.” He squirmed on the seat, and she laughed.

  “It so happens I did notice that you like to eat,” she said, “although I can’t imagine how you stuffed down so many pastries and cookies after the meal we ate at the diner. It will give me great pleasure to feed you in the days to come.”

  “Can’t believe my luck. Two of my…” Nick stopped mid-sentence. Telling her that his only wish had been for a girl who could cook and one that didn’t look like a dog did not seem fitting at the moment.

  “Two of what?” she asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” he said, backpaddling. “I was about to put my worst foot forward again. Best left unsaid.”

  “The fear in your eyes is back. Do I intimidate you?”

  “No, I merely want your day to be perfect,” he said. “Rather you get acquainted with the dark side of me in small doses, later, rather than sooner.”

  Sarah looked at the fields stretched out on both sides of them. “Tell me about your farm—do you have animals?”

  “Sure. Wouldn’t be a farm without animals,” he said. “But most of the meat and dairy for family use are kept over at the homestead. Reckon we should house our own stock, so we don’t have to bother them.”

  “I’d love to have laying hens and chickens to roast. Do you like pork? I have wonderful recipes that require bacon and ham. Of course, beef is a staple. I’ve not had the opportunity to cook with wild meat. I suspect I can learn easily enough.” She took a deep breath and carried on. “And a garden—oh, tell me you’ve planted a garden.”

  Sarah must have read the “no” in his expression. “Never mind. It’s not too late. We’ll get the ground dug up this week and plant the seeds. Can we buy seeds in Denver when we go to town?”

  “I see you’ve started on that list I spoke about earlier, and you haven’t even seen the place yet,” Nick said. “It’s not what you’re used to after living in a big fancy house.”

  “I never expected it to be. I left Texas for a home and family of my own. I am not looking for a rich man, Nick. A hard worker is more than enough.”

  When they topped the next hill, Nick watched her reaction at the sight of her new home, about as far from a mansion as one could get. Two months ago, the cabin had been in dire condition, and he was proud of the repairs he’d done when not chasing villains.

  Sarah did not disappoint Nick. Her face beamed at the sight of it. When she leaned over to hug him with gratitude, he finally understood the pleasure in providing someone their dream come true.

  Chapter Four

  Nick stacked all of Sarah’s worldly belongings on the ground next to her before continuing toward a small barn to unhitch the team. She stood fixed to the spot, staring at her future. Without any words, Nick seemed to understand the need for her to somehow wrap her being around this new adventure. Her husband had made a feeble attempt at a flower garden, for a few colorful bushes bordered the front porch, which ran the entire length of the house. She climbed the three steps and stood on the wooden planks, imagining herself sitting on a rocker, sipping her tea, and listening to the gentle rain patter on the roof overhead.


  She turned to drink in the landscape. The perfect outdoor space provided a view of fields as far as the eye could see, rich soil with new shoots of plant-life sticking out of the ground—a bountiful feast. The fenced-in grassland close to the barn housed horses and cattle. A few smaller buildings were in the same vicinity but looked empty and rundown and in definite need of repair. Of course, Nick would have been busy planting crops that time of year, and he had mentioned he’d done some work on the cabin. A man could only do so much. Sarah was pleased to come alongside this hard-working man to make a home that would make them both proud.

  Sarah circled again to face the front door of the cabin. Should she wait for an invitation into his home, or would he expect her to wander in alone and nose around? She squinted her eyes against the sun and noticed that the barn door was closed, and not seeing hide nor hair of him, she decided to continue touring alone.

  The front door opened into one large room comprised of a kitchen and sitting area. The blacktop stove lured her to inspect it first. It appeared new, and she ran her hand along the smooth, cool surface. She would spend much of her day there, and it gave her joy to think of all the baking sensations she’d create in its oven. The wooden counter was worn and needed a thorough scrubbing deep into the grain. Shelves on the wall held dishes—mostly odds-and-ends—but they were serviceable. Pots and cast-iron pans hung by nails on one wall. In a small room at the back, she found shelves with food supplies and noted that she would return there with paper and pencil to start the list for their shopping trip.

  Back inside the kitchen, she chuckled at the sight of the table, long and rectangular, with eight chairs around it; and she wondered if her husband expected her to fill them with his children. It was bare, except for one small bunch of flowers, similar to the ones Nick had picked for her wedding bouquet, sitting in the middle.

  He was a considerate man—either that or he’d followed his sister’s instructions to the letter. Her first impressions of him that day were encouraging, and Sarah felt lighthearted. The matchmaker had made the right choice—so far—and Sarah especially appreciated that he was allowing her time to settle in before demanding his marital rights. Not that she would have refused Nick, for she knew the duties required of married women, but at the same time, she yearned to look upon her man with that same dreamy expression her mother wore when speaking of the husband she’d lost in a hunting accident when Sarah was six.