A Match for Sarah

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A Match for Sarah Page 4

by Marlene Bierworth


  The first bedroom she looked into was small, containing only the bare essentials. She noticed men’s clothing hanging on hooks on the far wall over top of a small bureau with three drawers.

  A voice sounded behind her, and she spun around to face Nick.

  “That’s my room.” He nodded to the other side of the house and said, “Yours is over there.”

  “Excuse me,” she said, “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “I won’t be locking the door, Sarah.”

  She sucked in a surprised breath.

  Nick chuckled. “I only meant that I’d appreciate you washing my dirty dungarees and tidying up now and then. Not too good at it myself.”

  “Of course, I will.”

  She watched him drag the chest toward her room and rushed to help him push it the extra distance. From the other side, he noticed her take up position to move the enormous container, and he smiled.

  Sarah loved his smile. It somehow managed to make his entire face come to life.

  “Steady as we go, Mrs. Trafton.” She sensed he was teasing her like he could have done the complete job without her assistance. When he stopped abruptly inside the room, she continued forward, and wound up spread-eagled across the lid of the chest.

  He caught her before she tumbled off the other side.

  When she found her footing again, Nick was inches from her face, and the first thing that popped into her head was that light brush of his lips when they’d sealed their vows at the end of the ceremony.

  “I’m clumsy at times,” she muttered, her breath raspy and irregular.

  “I do appreciate the help, Sarah, but you needn’t fuss about the heavy stuff. I’ll be just a call away. Don’t be afraid to shout.”

  “Thank you, Nick. You have been very kind to me today. I appreciate it.”

  “My pleasure. I’ll get the rest of your things so you can settle in.” He lifted his hat and was gone before she could say another word.

  She pondered at how she might repay him, and thought of his stomach. Rummaging in her chest, she brought out the wedding cake she and her mother had made the day before she’d left Texas. They’d filled it with fruit and nuts. It was dessert best served after sitting for a spell. The train trip had adequately covered that period, and Sarah supposed their wedding night would be the perfect occasion to indulge.

  In the kitchen, she stirred the few embers on the bottom of the cookstove with the poker and then strategically stacked the kindling inside. Without too much effort, her gentle blowing paid off to ignite a flame. While it heated, she found the coffee pot and filled it with clean water she found in a pail and grounds from a tin can on the counter.

  Nick came in as she placed it on the hottest part of the stove. “This is the last of it,” he called out. “I’ll be doing the chores now. Won’t take long.”

  While he was gone, she hurried and found a box full of fresh food, and she wondered if it was a care package from his generous sister. She cut thick slabs of bread and placed it on a plate. Strawberry, raspberry, and apple jelly preserves were in the crate, and she added them to the pile on the table. Knowing how the men upstairs at Cranston Manor loved pickled eggs, she placed some in a bowl and added it to the growing mishmash of food items. In the icebox, she was excited to see slices of ham and a container of prepared potato salad. The meal was beginning to take shape, and before long, she smiled at the results of the first meal served in her new home. If only Mother could see her then, she’d know how happy the move had made her daughter.

  A long whistle sounded from the doorway, and she spun around to face Nick, who was leaning casually against a wall by the door. “I see you know your way around a kitchen.”

  “Of that, you will have no fears.”

  “Sorry—you didn’t have to put something together on your first night. I ate plenty today,” he said.

  Sarah laughed. “You forget that I watched the amount you can tuck into that belly of yours. I’m sure my effort here won’t go to waste.” She filled the cups with the hot coffee. “Wash up now. I have a surprise for later.”

  “A surprise?” he filled the basin with water from the pitcher and scrubbed his hands with the bar of soap. He dried them, went to the table, and looked lost. “Huh—this is where I usually sit.”

  “But that’s not the head of the table,” Sarah said.

  “Suppose not, but it’s a great view of the mountains,” Nick said, pointing to the window.

  She smiled and moved both the plates to the long side of the table so they could both face the large window. I hope you don’t mind sharing the view, Mr. Trafton.”

  He took her hand and kissed it. “How did I get so lucky?”

  “God watches our steps. I give Him credit—Him, Marianne Gordon, and not to forget your sister, Genevieve.” He kissed her hand again and then pulled the chair out for her to sit.

  “Are the animals all tucked in?” she said as they ate.

  “They are. Do you like to ride?”

  “I’m afraid I’ve not had much opportunity. Animals were not boarded in my neighborhood. Hired drivers brought them from the livery when their employers needed to go somewhere.”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” Nick said. “Would you like to learn? I could teach you. I happen to have a rather gentle mare waiting for you in the barn.”

  “You do?” She looked at her lap, unsure of how to respond to such kindness.

  “Has no one ever given you anything?” Nick studied her

  “Oh, yes,” she said hurriedly. “Mr. Cranston, my employer upstairs at the Manor, used to bring books from his library he thought I’d enjoy. I always returned them, but before I left, he gifted me with a novel to read on the train.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  “It was a romance novel, and I’m not certain whether he meant it as a mockery or not. I’ve learned to remain suspicious, as often the kindness shown from upstairs came with a price tag that stole either my time or skills.” She laughed. “Regardless, the main characters in the book were lords and ladies and did not help me answer any questions I might have concerning real-life love.”

  “We all have questions,” Nick said. “I think the answers come as we live every day. Leastways, that’s what I’m hoping.”

  “It sounds like wise advice.” She stood. “Are you ready for my surprise?”

  “Yes. Do I need to close my eyes?”

  “No, it’s just dessert, but my mother and I made it before I left. It’s a traditional wedding cake handed down for generations. My mother wanted me to tell you to enjoy a piece of our family heritage and warn you that my father looks down from heaven, so you’d best take good care of his only daughter.”

  “I shall do my best, Sarah, but I’m far from perfect, as I’m sure you will soon learn.”

  “I didn’t expect perfection, or I’d have married some upper-class noble—they all think they’re perfect.” They both laughed, and she hurried to the counter to uncover the round masterpiece.

  She set the cake in front of Nick and sat beside him. “It is customary for both the bride and groom to cut the cake—will you help me?”

  Nick covered her hand as it held the knife, and together they put the first slice through. She positioned it on his plate, and then the two did likewise with a second cut for her. He laid the knife down and stared at her.

  “I like your custom.”

  “I hope you like the cake. Some don’t—it’s rather heavy, with lots of fruit and nuts.”

  “Like a Christmas cake?”

  “Similar, but there is a special ingredient that sets it apart. A touch of brandy to help the couple relax.”

  He grinned. “Relaxed sounds good.”

  She blushed, and cut a piece of her cake with the fork, and put it in his mouth. His brows lifted, and he, in turn, offered her some of his. “Did I pass the traditional test?”

  “You certainly did.”

  The couple stared at one another, both uncertain as to the aura t
hat hung in the air between them. Nick leaned in and kissed her gently on the mouth. Their eyes remained open as if trying to analyze their responses. At what point the study ended, and the kiss deepened, Sarah didn’t know, but she was aware that her fingers were clutching the edge of the table with nervous fervor. When he pulled away, her eyes misted, emotionally overwhelmed.

  “Have you never kissed a man before?”

  “I’m sorry if it didn’t please you.”

  “That’s not what I asked. It pleased me very much.”

  “I’ve never been courted. My mother was grooming me for a career. She said boys could wait.”

  Nick laughed and hugged his wife. “Thank you, Mother. I am so glad you saved our Sarah for me.” He kissed the top of her head and said, “Let’s get these dishes cleaned. We have a big day tomorrow settling into our new lives.”

  When Sarah laid her head on the pillow alone in the big double bed, she prayed for her husband and thanked God for sending the perfect match.

  Chapter Five

  “What do you mean, you didn’t plant the crops?” Sarah gaped at Nick, confused. He knew it was coming. A view of his dark side was inevitable, but he’d hoped for a few more days with his bride before she’d figure it out. Everything had been going well until he’d suggested a tour of the farm.

  “Suppose I was busy fixing up the cabin, so my brothers did the grunt work.”

  He watched as the explanation sunk in. It sounded good, and it was true. Nick had spent April and May making the cabin livable. He just never elaborated to Sarah that his brothers had done all of the planting for a couple of years now, while he’d been out chasing the bad guys and testing the waters far from home. He’d left Denver and the farm for greener pastures and found it ironic to be back where he’d begun, trying to pick up the pieces.

  “There’s something you’re holding back, Nick,” Sarah said, hands on her hips, her eyes bearing down on him.

  “Your imagination is running wild,” he said, turning to walk away. “How about that riding lesson I promised? I’ll show you the creek where we draw water for the house. I’ve been filling the big crib I keep on the back of the wagon to save trips. It’s only temporary. I’ll get to work on a well closer to the house real soon.”

  “Sounds like a wise move.” Sarah backed off the attack, but he knew the doubt still smoldered in her mind, for her eyes were suddenly cautious. The woman was far too discerning. Apparently, he wouldn’t be able to pass even a little white lie by her and not get caught.

  Sarah seemed to warm up once in the barn when she met Bess, and the brown mare nuzzled her shoulder to greet her.

  “I love this horse, Nick, and I am eager to learn how to ride her. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over the animal’s back. He felt Sarah’s eyes on him the entire time he saddled Bess and answered the questions she tossed his way as to the process.

  “I can do this for you anytime you want to ride. The saddle is heavy for a wee thing like you.”

  “Granted, I am small, but I’m strong. My mother used to say I could toss a twenty-pound bag of potatoes over my shoulder, same as any man.”

  He handed the reins to her. “Wait here. I’ll get Bossy saddled up.”

  “Bossy?”

  “Yeah. The animal’s been a brute from day one, but we get on all right, now that he knows who’s the real boss.”

  “I always suspected there was a difference between bossy and the boss,” Sarah said. “You named your horse well.”

  “Bossy and Bess are pretty tight,” Nick said. “They look after each other and their riders out there on the trail.”

  “That is good to know.”

  After a few basic instructions in the corral, Sarah was ready to go. The two horses stayed side by side, and Nick kept their pace to a slow walk. Bess kept looking over at Bossy, and Nick knew that she wanted to let loose despite the greenhorn on her back, but she strode leisurely forward, paying heed to the commands Sarah extended to remain in control.

  “You sure you’re new at this? You’re handling the mare like a pro.”

  “I have a good teacher,” she said.

  Nick avoided speaking as they quickened to a slow trot past the fields sprouting with signs of Jethro and Saul’s hard work having paid off. He understood their hesitation to accept him back into the family fold, but at the same time, their superior attitude irked him. Why couldn’t his brothers just let bygones be bygones? He was back in town, hoping to build a new life for his wife and help the Trafton farm to succeed.

  “Look,” Sarah squealed, “it’s your stream. I love the water the way it ripples over the smooth stones, the flowering shrubs and rocky banks.” She stared at him, and he saw the pure, innocent joy in her face. It was refreshing to view the land through the lens of a newcomer.

  “And you said it’s named Millers Creek, right?”

  “Good memory. It is, but I think we can label the part that runs through our land Trafton Creek.”

  “I agree,” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl. “Can we get down?”

  Nick slid off Bossy’s back and reached up for her hand. “Just scootch your leg over to this side, and I’ll catch you.”

  When she slid off, he wrapped his arm around her waist to soften her landing, and she didn’t flinch once they were standing eye to eye.

  “Do you want to kiss me again?”

  “If that’s what you’d like, I’m game.”

  “Now that doesn’t sound like—” He smothered her words with his lips and felt her relax in his arms. It felt as natural as his next breath to be with Sarah, and although it scared the wanderer in him, it managed to tame the man he wanted to become.

  When they came up for air, he noticed that the horses had roamed a short distance to some delicious section of grassland and were feeding, side by side. He took Sarah’s hand, and as he passed the animals, he wrapped the lines around a branch to keep them in the area. Didn’t need to be chasing horses with a mind to head back for the corral.

  She sat on the ground, pulled up her skirt over her ankles, and started to untie her shoes. “You want to get your feet wet, Nick?”

  “Suppose it might be good. I am feeling a bit heated.” His answer did not appear to throw her, for she continued her task until she’d peeled off her socks and stood.

  “Beat you in,” Sarah said, holding her hem off the ground with both hands as she hurried toward the water.

  He yanked off his boots and chased after her. They plodded through the water, and when he grabbed her wrist, she twirled around to face him. “See where the shadows get darker underneath?”

  When she nodded, he said, “That’s where the bottom falls off, and it’s over your head. Unless you want a full dousing, I’d stay back here on the pebbly shallows.”

  “I do know how to swim. My instructor said I was like a fish in the water.”

  “Pleased to hear that,” he said. “Won’t worry when you come here alone.”

  “Do you worry about me, Nick Trafton?”

  “It’s my job. You’re my wife.”

  “A wife is an obligation to a man?” She scrunched her brows, and he knew the remark had hit a sore spot.

  “Well, yes, in a good way. You’ve read the Bible, haven’t you? God expects me to look after you and my family.”

  “You have a valid point.” She pushed at him playfully. “Do you know how to swim?”

  He was knocked off balance and he fell on his backside.

  Her laugh pierced the air.

  Nick reached out for her leg. When he found it under the layers of her skirt, he pulled. After a shrieking surprise, she landed on his lap, both of them seated in the shallow water. Her laugh was like music.

  “That should cool us both off.”

  “So, are you admitting that our kiss leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy, as well?”

  She avoided the question, wriggling in his lap in an attempt to stand.

&
nbsp; After a moment of untangling, they headed for the horses. They mounted and started for home at a slightly quicker pace. Sarah appeared comfortable for her first ride—she was a quick learner—and he’d enjoyed her playfulness at the creek, even if it had shortened their outdoor adventure.

  At the cabin, he watched her slide off her mount, the same as he’d done earlier.

  Off to the side, he noticed a buggy in the yard. “Tell whoever the company is that I’ll be right in.”

  “Oh, my,” Sarah exclaimed. “I am hardly dressed to entertain callers, dripping wet from the creek.”

  Nick laughed as he took the reins from her. “Surely your sins will find you out, Mrs. Trafton.”

  Sarah watched Nick lead Bess alongside him and Bossy at a canter toward the barn. She glanced at the door and murmured, “Company?” She knew so few people, and none from yesterday had mentioned a casual drop-by. She inhaled deeply and headed inside.

  Sandy, Jethro’s wife, was in the kitchen. “There you are,” she said, spinning around to face her. Her hand flew to her mouth, but the woman could not hide the twinkle of humor in her eyes. “Whatever happened to you?”

  “Nick and I went riding, and I couldn’t resist a little dip in the creek.”

  “It’s not that hot out,” she said. Her grin deepened, as she slid her hand down to her side. “I forgot—honeymooners do strange things.”

  “It was all in fun.” Sarah felt the need to explain. “I think fun is needful at any time in one’s life.” The woman continued to stand there, so Sarah asked, “What brings you out here today?”

  “I was worried that Nick hadn’t gotten in enough supplies—you know how forgetful men can be,” Sandy said.

 

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