A Match for Sarah

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A Match for Sarah Page 10

by Marlene Bierworth


  In the early morning hours, Sarah awoke to the smell of smoke drifting in through her open window. She threw the covers off and ran to look. The fading night sky in the distance filled with swirling black haze, and the daylight crept slowly over the horizon. If her bearings of the area were correct, she’d pinpoint the fire to be close to Nick’s place.

  Sarah noticed Saul rushing toward the family barn, and, a few minutes later, he was racing his horse bareback across the field in the direction of the smolder.

  Sarah grabbed her housecoat, pulled it tightly over her nightgown, and went to the kitchen where she found Sandy, stoking the fire and preparing the coffee. “What’s going on?”

  “Looks like a fire on the land. Saul’s gone to check it out.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous to go alone?”

  “Well, I won’t hear of Jethro going. Saul is a smart man. He’ll run to town for help if he needs it. Besides, Nick’s out there somewhere, and the fire won’t go unnoticed by him. Sometimes, whole fields of crops are burned in the blink of an eye, and that’s never a good thing for the farm.”

  “Do you think it might be Nick’s cabin? It is in that direction, right?”

  “Now, don’t you go jumping to conclusions,” Sandy said. “Saul will be back soon to give a report. Why don’t you take a pan of warm water to wash-up and then get dressed? Breakfast will be ready soon, and we might have some news.”

  Sarah rushed through her morning routine and came back thirty minutes later. Ruth had joined Sandy in the kitchen, and Jethro was seated in an armchair by the window. The salty smell coming from the frying pan sizzled throughout the kitchen and Sarah assumed bacon was on the menu. When Sandy saw her, she clucked her tongue and nodded toward her husband.

  “Stubborn man. He thinks he can do more by sitting up half-dressed than lying in bed healing.”

  Sarah walked in his direction and sat in the chair opposite him. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Could be better,” he growled, but then softened his tone. “If you’re asking about the injury, well, I’m on the mend. Better than yesterday, and hopefully, not as good as tomorrow.”

  Sarah smiled. “That’s good to hear. You realize I feared that if the shooting didn’t do you in, my taking the bullet out would? You were a great patient; barely flinched through the entire operation.”

  “I was definitely out of it. Did you get me drunk or drug me?”

  “It might have been the dribble of antiseptic on the cloth that knocked you out. I don’t generally give alcohol to men.” Sarah grinned. “It’s been my observation that they can find it well enough on their own.”

  “Well, thank you again.”

  “It’s my fault you were there,” Sarah said. “I shall never look at my garden the same way.”

  “Nonsense,” Jethro said. “You will appreciate it more, considering that not only did my sweat wet its beginnings, but my blood did too. And the Trafton blood is a good line. Plants should thrive on it.”

  Sarah appreciated the brother who had set himself against her husband but who had the heart of God thumping in his chest at the same time.

  “You are a generous man, Jethro Trafton, and I will always remember the kindness you’ve shown me.”

  “Well, next year, your husband can do the garden work and get shot in the attempt if need be,” Jethro chuckled; it appeared to be his way of making light of the tragedy.

  Sandy sidled up behind them. “If we have another year to enjoy Nick’s new bride. Did she tell you that she’s considering running?”

  “In passing, but I never took her serious,” Jethro said. “Where would she run to?”

  “Home to Texas. It seems that living with men who choose to estrange themselves from one another is too much to bear. That and your cursed brother’s occupation,” Sandy stated firmly. “I expect you can do something about this mess?”

  “You won’t let me leave the house, woman,” Jethro growled. “My hands are tied.”

  “But not your mouth,” Sandy said. “Tell Sarah what you told me this morning and stop her from leaving us.”

  Jethro looked at Sarah. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought as to what you suggested.” He glanced at his wife before muttering, “Nothing much else to do in bed except think.”

  “And allow time for your body to heal,” Sandy said to end that bit of self-pity.

  “Anyway, Saul and I have managed to keep up with the small farming enterprise our father left us. Never enough money to hire cowhands to expand the business, so we stayed in the making-ends-meet mode, hoping that a plight or a fire doesn’t wipe out the harvest that earns our living.”

  Sandy’s feet shuffled on the floor. The grin bubbling on her face couldn’t apparently stop her mouth from interrupting. “Saul has so many great ideas about breeding cattle, and Jethro, he reads books on horses and studies them far more than any man I’ve known.”

  “Hush woman,” Jethro said. “You told me to spill the beans, and here you are, blabbering your mouth.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jethro. I’ll leave you two. Breakfast is in five minutes, so I expect that will give you time to spill the beans.” She turned and headed back to the kitchen.

  “That woman—can’t live with her, and I can’t live without her. Such a dilemma for a man.”

  Sarah chuckled. The man’s lingering gaze on his exiting wife begged to differ, and that the dilemma was actually quite bearable.

  “Anyway, you heard what she said,” Jethro said. “I know Nick has a way with the soil—it’s like he was born kin to it, both working as a silent team, both fulfilling their purpose together. I believe the Trafton ground hasn’t been nearly as fertile lately—probably missing the skilled hands of not only our Pa but the big brother who deserted us.”

  “So, you think my idea will work? Three men concentrating their efforts in three different areas of growth.”

  “Saul and I want to bring the Trafton farm to the next level. After all, more mouths are arriving that need to be fed and nurtured on our land.”

  “The place means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s my life, the air I breathe. I’d be a shell of a man without it.”

  “Nick will be excited. When will you tell him?”

  “Whenever his cursed troubles end,” Jethro said. “I won’t be inviting danger to our land. It’s bounty hunting or the farm, a decision only he can make.”

  “I’m glad I could manage to do something right during my short stay in Denver,” Sarah said.

  “What are you talking about, woman? I just solved your problem by giving your man a reason to stay home.”

  Sarah stood and stared out the window. “My goal was to see the family reunited, and that appears to be happening regardless of the business part of it. But if I’m not reason enough for him to stay home from bounty hunting, even when I pleaded, I won’t waste my love on a man who secretly pines to be set free. He needs to follow his heart, and I’m not sure where that is.” She faced Jethro once more. “And you forget that if there is one man out there seeking vengeance for their outlaw kin, then there are likely more. I can’t live like that. I hope you understand.”

  “Breakfast is served,” Sandy shouted from the kitchen. “Come and get it, you two.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Nick jolted awake at the sound of hooves beating on the ground, not from the front laneway but at the rear entrance. He grabbed his pistol from its holster and nudged Arne awake. “We got company,” he said, moving toward the back of the house.

  The door burst open. Nick raised his gun to shoot, stopping before he pulled the trigger. “Saul! What on earth? You could have gotten your head blown off.”

  “Riders’ coming in,” his brother said, panting to catch his breath. “Maybe fifteen. Led by Cretis. They look like they mean business.”

  “We’re ready for them,” Nick said. “You should go home.”

  “I’m not going home and leaving you here to die,” Saul sai
d.

  “No sense you dying with me,” Nick argued.

  Arne spoke up. “What’s all this talk about dying? I’m off to the toolshed, like we planned. Remember the plan, Nick?”

  Nick nodded. “Be careful, and only give your location away if necessary.” He turned to look at Saul. “You hide out in the smokehouse, and the same goes for you. Shoot only if necessary. Don’t give your position away except to save your skin or mine if need be.”

  When Saul turned, Nick grabbed his arm. “Thanks for coming, little brother. And for your information, I’m hoping to see at least fifteen from town following behind the gang—if Sam held his end of the bargain.”

  “That would even up the numbers,” Saul said. “It seems we have some powerful praying to do on an empty stomach.”

  Nick tossed him a biscuit from under a towel on the pantry shelf. “Here. Don’t want your rumbling tummy to lead Cretis straight to you.”

  Then he was alone. More than in any of his other exploits, Nick wanted to live through the fight. The bigger battle would be winning the favor of his wife and family back. Nothing else gave him purpose anymore. If regret could wipe away his wandering years, he’d have the victory already, but it seemed there was a price to pay for sin, and the world was dishing out the consequences.

  He lifted a prayer heavenward for Saul and Arne that they would not suffer because of his neglect. He had no right to ask for himself, but for Sarah, and the chance that she’d stay, he’d ask for himself too. She was not ready to become a widow before they’d even fully discovered their love for one another. The future held such potential, and he desired more than anything for the opportunity to make amends. He’d spend the rest of his life, making right the wrongs he’d inflicted on her.

  Nick pushed the curtain aside to see the dust in the air from the thundering hooves of horses shaking the ground as they turned off the road and started up the laneway. Cretis was on a mission, and he was close enough for Nick to view the cold eyes fixated on his cabin.

  A distant cloud of dust drew his attention, and Nick sighed with relief—Sam had been true to his word. The posse was on the chase, and unfortunately, the final showdown was about to take place on his property.

  Fifteen horses lined themselves across the front yard below the porch. They sat there, exhibiting cocky faces of glowering intimidation for the men they suspected were either hiding or just waking up inside—if Sam had relayed the message correctly.

  Cretis took a long rope that was hooked on the side of his saddle. “Rise and shine, Nick. It’s time for you to meet your Maker. And if your buddy knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay put and not interfere with justice.”

  “Hanging the outlaw Clancy was justice,” Nick yelled. “Murdering me will put a noose around your neck, too. Is that what you want? To join your brother in the hereafter?”

  “Time for talking is done,” Cretis shouted. “Say your prayers and come on out, peaceful-like. No need for anyone else to die today.”

  Nick could agree with that. He didn’t want to see anyone else die because of him, either. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Make it quick or we’ll come in after you.” Cretis’s sadistic laugh roared into the clear early summer morning. “My hired man says your wife was mighty obliging. Have me a few fellas could use a woman’s attention.”

  Nick hated how loosely they talked about Sarah. “She isn’t here.”

  “Now, that’s mighty disappointing.”

  “Afraid your man got her character mixed up with the whores he hangs out with at the saloon. He wouldn’t know a respectable woman if she arrived wearing a halo on her head.”

  “Enough chatter.” Cretis passed the heavy rope to the man beside him, who proceeded to ride to the closest tree. He tied one end of the line to the saddle knob and threw the other over a foot-wide-thick limb, looping a secure knot to create a head-sized circle. The man mounted his horse and backed up to tighten the slack before waving to his boss.

  “The hanging tree’s ready, Nick,” Cretis hollered. “Time to pay for your crimes against my family.”

  Nick wondered how close the sheriff was to the cabin. The dust from their ride had settled, and he hoped they’d dismounted and were closing in.

  Cretis slid off his gelding and waved a large, heavy stick with a rag tied to it in the air. “Don’t make me burn you out, Nick. Got nothing against your brothers. Only you.”

  Nick couldn’t let them set his cabin on fire. It wasn’t a palace, but Sarah had worked so hard to make it their home.

  He took a deep breath and walked out on the porch.

  “Drop that gun belt before you come any closer,” Cretis said. “Don’t need any heroics today.”

  Nick unbuckled it slowing, dropped it to the plank floor, and looked at the bunch that had gathered to kill him. “I know some of you chaps. You all right with obeying orders from a man bent on vengeance?” No one answered, but he did see some of them squirm in their saddles. “You realize that just being here makes you all accomplices, and you’ll hang the same as your boss.” Still, no one spoke, but he did see a few men move their hands away from their guns and look at Cretis.

  “Don’t listen to him, boys. You all knew Clancy. He was a good man—just a bit off his game—but he’d have turned around given time. Time this no-good bounty hunter took from him.” He peered at Nick. “Did you enjoy spending his blood money? Hope you toasted him with a drink.”

  Nick stayed put, hoping the sheriff would make his move before he stepped off the porch and was separated from his guns.

  “Well? What are you waiting for? Come on down to meet your Maker. I don’t have all day.”

  A voice sounded from a row of bushes that lined the laneway. “Put your hands in the air, boys. You’re surrounded. There’ll be no hanging today.”

  Nick dropped to the ground to grab his pistols and slipped in behind a half barrel that Sarah had filled with seeds to grow flowers. Next to it, the post holding up the verandah’s roof also offered protection from flying bullets, in case Cretis did not surrender easily.

  He was right on that point. Cretis spun around and aimed his gun at the trees. “Come out here, Sheriff. Do what the good folks of Denver pay you to do and what the Good Book declares is a fitting end; a life for a life. You’re a Christian man, right?”

  “I am, but I’ve sworn to protect folks, and this is not legal what you’re doing here today. I am the law in these parts, so put that gun down and let’s talk this out.”

  “I’m done talking!” Cretis yelled and fired a shot into the bush before pivoting on his heels to take aim at Nick. He was still focused on the porch when the bullet hit him from behind. The man in charge crumpled next to his horse’s feet, and all his employees raised their hands. All, that is, except one; the hangman. He threw down the rope, kicked his horse, and sped off.

  Nick heard the rifle shot and saw the man tumble from his mount.

  “We surrender, Sheriff. This isn’t our fight,” one of the men from the lineup shouted.

  A dozen or so men emerged from the trees, and Nick joined them in the yard. Sheriff Bewdley came and slapped Nick on the arm, buddy-style. “Well, this played out pretty good,” he said. “Your biggest threat decided to join his brother in the hereafter, and these hired men don’t carry a grudge. It looks like this part of your past has been cleaned up.”

  “Thanks for coming, Pike.”

  “Thank that Sam fellow you spared in the middle of the night. You scared the crap out of him. He came to me before he went to tell Cretis, so we had a heads-up and was watching for them to pull out this morning.”

  Before the men departed, Sheriff Pike addressed the one’s that had ridden with Cretis. “Since you fellas are temporarily out of a job, I expect you all to visit the mill and spend some of that ill-earned pay on supplies to rebuild the Trafton barn. I want it built bigger and better than ever. Seems Nick here has some catching up to do on the home front, and it’s right neighborly of y
ou all to pitch in for a barn-raising.”

  One by one, they filed meekly by to shake Nick’s hand. Some of them said, “Sorry,” while others confirmed they’d be at the barn raising. The neighbors Nick recognized were the most ashamed of all.

  When they’d all pulled out, Nick said, “Strange what a man will do for money. These are mostly good men who got tied up with the wrong rancher.”

  “Some fellows are just followers in search of leadership. You might think of hiring a few to keep them on the straight and narrow. The Traftons have a big spread, one that is not nearly used to its full potential.”

  Saul moved in beside his brother. “Me and Jethro both agree. The brothers have some planning to do.”

  Five days later, Sarah and Nick watched the wagons roll in. They were filled with boards, tools, supplies, and food, but what blessed Sarah most was the men’s merry spirits. Women came along with their husbands, carrying crates of food into the house to feed the eager workers while they built the new barn. She’d never seen such hospitality, and she wiped away happy tears with her free hand.

  Nick squeezed the other hand that lay limply at her side, and she bit her lower lip, fearful that he read her response wrong. In as kind a voice as she could manage, she said, “This doesn’t change anything between us, Nick. I’m still leaving next week.” Sarah turned and was soon overrun with chatty women preparing food and working on squares they’d give to Sarah as a homecoming gift. It was a wonderful tradition, neighbors supporting each other, and all day long, she struggled with emotions that threatened to weaken her resolve to leave. If only she could be sure danger would never revisit her doorstep; if only. But that was something no one could guarantee—not even Nick could recall the details of every man he’d brought in during his time bounty hunting.

  “Is something bothering you today?” Genevieve asked as she cornered her in the pantry.

  Sarah looked at the woman who had orchestrated the whole mail order bride trip to Colorado. She’d encouraged her brother that a fresh start was what he and all the eager available ladies needed. Marianne had chosen Sarah to answer Nick’s call. It had been nearly three weeks since she’d stepped off the train to begin this marriage adventure, and it had progressed well, for the most part. Her pulse still quickened upon recalling the horror that had put her, Nick, and his family in harm’s way. Why did it monopolize her mind to the point of her dismissing all the good times? There were so many warm feelings that only home could bring to a woman’s heart, not to mention the never-ceasing emotions that erupted within her just from being in the same room as her husband.

 

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