Healing Sarah (American Homespun Book 3)

by Lorin Grace

  Sarah shook her head. “It’s late. Your wife can sleep if you’ll just bring in—” Again Sarah had to pause before continuing. If the reverend hadn’t been there, Tim would have taken her in his arms. Sarah needed to be held and to be able to cry. Sarah was as close to Mrs. Wilson as any of her own children.

  A lighter knock sounded at the door. Mrs. Palmer didn’t wait for it to be answered but came in, took one look at Sarah, and pulled her into her arms. “There, there, dear, it will be better soon.”

  Sarah pulled back. “My father used to say problems always looked better in the sunlight.” She turned to the men. “If you would please bring her in. I am sure Dr. Dawes needs sleep worse than I do. He was already out and about when he stopped to help me.”

  Reverend Palmer clasped Tim’s shoulder. “Good thing you did too, I understand we lost Mrs. Wilson but gained two more in her place.”

  Tim really didn’t need the minister to help him bring in the body, but it did solve Sarah’s worries about them being alone.

  Tim left as soon as they were done. He would return the sleigh early in the morning before the remaining ice and snow melted. He looked back to the house to see Sarah in Mrs. Palmer’s arms again.

  How he wished she trusted him enough for it to be his arms around her.

  Twenty-four

  The sun hovered just a pinch above the skyline when Samuel knocked on the door. As soon as Sarah opened it, he pulled her into a hug. “You don’t look like you slept much, pumpkin.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “It’s been a long night.”

  “Did the babies?”

  “They were both fussing when I left. Dr. Dawes brought Mrs. Morton out with him when he returned the sleigh just before dawn. So everyone is in good hands.” Samuel waved toward the wagon, where James sat. The boy climbed down and hurried into the house.

  Samuel walked into the parlor. “Who helped you move all the furniture?”

  “Reverend Palmer moved most of it last night while Mrs. Palmer helped me.” Sarah didn’t tell Samuel she’d rearranged most of it before dawn after an unsuccessful attempt to paint a memorial. She had been unable to sleep. She had not handled the jokes about being in the sleigh alone with Tim well, though she knew they were just something to relieve the stress of the day. Perhaps had she cared for him less, she could have laughed more. Crying in his arms yesterday had been as disturbing as it was comforting. It would do neither of them any good for her to follow the path her heart begged her to explore.

  Two straight-backed chairs stood alone in the center of the room. “If you will hold the door for us …” Samuel and James went back out to the wagon.

  When they returned with the coffin, Sarah adjusted the location of the chairs to hold up either end. She ran her hand over the smooth stained wood and traced the carvings on top. “How long have you been working on this?”

  Samuel pinked. “I started on it the day I built Pa’s. I wanted to use the same wood. Ma was so distraught when Pa died, I thought she might go any day because of a broken heart. Over the years I added to it, either on the anniversary of Pa’s death or when I was worried about Ma.”

  “You truly outdid yourself. Now all the ladies in the widows’ pew are going to beg you to make one just like it for them.”

  “I’ll tell them it took me ten years. I think that will stop them.” Samuel smiled and turned to his son. “Do you think you can help me place grandma’s body in here? I can get someone else …”

  The boy straightened to his full height, causing Sarah to tilt her head up. “We already talked about this, Pa. I can do this.”

  Sarah ran and got Emma’s old wedding quilt to put under her body. It was the one thing Emma would want to take with her.

  When they were finished, Samuel took his leave. “I’ll see you at the church. Lucy wants all the children to come in. What I think she really wants is some silence. Seth runs around the house holding up two fingers and shouting ‘Two!’ every time he sees the twins. Benjamin and Bessie keep arguing over which one is theirs. One of the girls will stay home. Carrie’s and Thomas Jr.’s families should be here by the time church starts. So it will be a crowd.”

  Sarah covered her mouth. “I don’t have anything to feed everyone!”

  “Don’t worry. Maryanna thought of that last night with today being the Sabbath and all. It is only beans and cornbread, but there will be enough for everyone, and you know that once the reverend announces Ma’s passing, food will just start to show up. By tomorrow morning after the funeral, there will be more food in this house than the entire Wilson family can eat in a week.” Samuel hugged her one more time before he left.

  Sarah wandered into the kitchen. It needed a good sweeping. Sabbath or not, she needed to tidy things up. At least cleaning would keep her awake until church started.

  The last bell’s echo faded as Tim slipped into the back of the church. His breeches were splattered with mud, and he was late—two very good reasons to slide into one of the back pews. He should pay more attention. The entirety of Widow Webb’s boardinghouse sat in the row in front of him.

  “She looks exhausted.”

  “She should be. Got in his buggy alone … was gone all day … parlor light on about ten thirty … just the two of … bold as you can be.”

  “ … could be another explanation.”

  Tim tried to discern which women were speaking, but their bonnets hid their identities.

  Reverend Palmer stood. “Before we begin, I would like to announce the death of Mrs. Emma Wilson last night.”

  One of the women in front of him jumped a bit and gave a little squeak.

  “Told you.”

  As he suspected, they had been gossiping about Sarah. Her fears about being alone with him had some foundation. He would try to be more careful. Gossip like this could stain a lady’s reputation.

  Tim missed the rest of the announcements and didn’t remember singing the hymn. These women were supposed to be her friends.

  Halfway through the sermon, Sarah stood with little Stella in her arms and exited the building. Tim waited a few minutes before following, certain no one had noticed since he already sat by the door.

  Sarah stood near one of the privies, rubbing her arms to keep warm.

  “If I were twenty years younger, I would take advantage of finding a pretty girl behind the church.”

  Sarah turned to face him. Judging by the dark rings under her eyes, if she had slept last night, it had been a poor sleep, indeed. The black mourning dress robbed her of all color. “And I would hit you like Samuel taught me. Please go before someone realizes we’re both out here.”

  “Do they gossip about you often?”

  “Who?”

  Tim shrugged. That had been the wrong question.

  “I am a poor spinster teacher. You are a doctor from one of the wealthiest families in town. Of course they gossip. Please go.”

  The tremor in her voice hit him harder than her fist ever could. He heeded her request, but instead of returning to the church, he got on his horse and left. If she returned and he didn’t, the gossips would be less likely to talk. Besides, he needed to change his soiled clothes.

  At least the day warmed up enough that people could move out to the porch to talk. The house was filled to overflowing. Seth came over and asked to be lifted up again. When she complied, he immediately laid his head on her shoulder and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Sarah took him upstairs, where Stella already slept next to John’s children on her bed. Tucking him in next to her pillow, she hoped he had been to the privy earlier. Too late now. She moved her pillow to the top of her trunk.

  Neighbors continued to come in. Considering Emma had probably delivered half of the population under the age of twenty, there would be more to come. Sarah found Louisa in a corner, studying her boots. Her niece had never been one for crowds or talking with strangers.

  Sarah whispered in her ear. “The children are sleeping in my ro
om. You can go up and watch them if you wish. I may have a book you haven’t read on my shelf.”

  Louisa brightened and hurried from the room. Samuel gave her a smile. It wasn’t until Sarah spoke to Mrs. Larkin that she remembered the notes stuffed between the pages of Pride and Prejudice. Hopefully the complete set of Sense and Sensibility Mark had given her as an engagement present would be more enticing. Of all her nieces, Louisa didn’t need more proof that the world could be a cruel place.

  Widow Webb and her boarders arrived together. There were a couple Sarah didn’t recognize. She nodded to each of them and didn’t bother remembering the names of the new women who were going to work in the bindery in town.

  “Oh, you poor thing. It seems like you just got out of mourning. But then, you were not really related, so you don’t need to stay in black forever.”

  Sarah bit her tongue. Parmelia would never understand how close she had been to Emma from her childhood—not quite mother, not quite grandmother, nearly mother-in-law. In Sarah’s mind, coming out of mourning in anything less than six months was disgraceful.

  “Thank you for your condolences. I will miss Mrs. Wilson very much.” Sarah turned to the next person, who handed her a heavy crockery. Thank goodness—a reason to escape to the kitchen.

  “Benjamin Wilson, get your finger out of the pudding right now!”

  “But, Aunt Sarah, I’m hungry.”

  “We all are, but it would be rude to eat in front of our guests. You know your mother would have you mopping the floors first thing in the morning if she caught you.”

  Benjamin looked at his twin. Purple discolored her upper lip. “I see both of you tested the pudding. Perhaps instead of the kitchen you should go sit in the parlor, where you won’t be so tempted.”

  Bessie looked at her with pleading eyes. “Please, Aunt, we are very hungry.”

  “There is this jar of beets. If you want, you may take them on the back porch.”

  Both children made a face. “We are not that hungry.”

  “Then scoot.”

  A wail came from the parlor, followed by a crash. Sarah and everyone else in the house rushed to see what had happened.

  Amity lay on the floor, shaking and thrashing about. Her father stood guarding her.

  “Benjamin! James! Go find Dr. Dawes!” Sarah did her best to clear the area. “Give her a bit of room.”

  When Amity finally lay still, Mr. Barns looked at Sarah.

  “Bring her in here.” Sarah led the way to Emma’s room. When they gained entrance, Sarah shut the door against any prying eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Marden. When Amity heard Mrs. Wilson passed, she kept asking to come. I didn’t think she would get so upset.” Mr. Barns wrung his hands.

  “Don’t worry. How long does it usually take her to come around after one of these episodes?”

  Mr. Barns shrugged. “Ten minutes. You mean she hasn’t had one here yet?”

  “No, but Dr. Morton told me what to expect. Did she hurt herself when she fell?” Sarah put a light quilt over Amity. Someone tapped on the door. Sarah opened it to find Dr. Dawes. “Doctor, do come in.” Sarah left as he entered. As much as she wanted to know how Amity would fare, being in the room with the doctor and Mr. Barns could lead to another note.

  Several heads turned when she returned to the parlor, but no one asked any questions.

  Twenty-five

  The funeral had concluded hours ago, the neighbors had returned to their normal Monday routines, and the younger children had all been either sent home or out to walk around the green.

  Thomas Jr. stood next to the window. “In all the commotion, we forgot to mention that Dorcas is supposed to be here tomorrow. We were planning on having her stay here with Ma and Sarah. I am not sure what we should do now.”

  “Sarah can’t stay here. It wouldn’t be proper.” John crossed his arms. “She should move home.”

  Carrie opened her mouth, then closed it.

  Samuel rubbed the back of his neck. “With the new babies, there really isn’t room. Besides, it is too far for Sarah to go to the school each day.”

  Sarah waved her hand. “I am in the room. Has anyone considered asking me what I want?”

  Everyone looked at her.

  “I’ll be twenty-four this fall. I still have Amity to help, and as Samuel has pointed out, his house is on the crowded side, which, to be honest, is hardly conducive to grading papers.” She held up her hand. “John, don’t think it, and don’t say it. I am not inclined to marry anyone. I would say I could take a room at Widow Webb’s, but she had new boarders today, and it didn’t work out too well for me years ago. If the intention is to sell this house, it may take a few weeks. I assume from what Thomas Jr. said that his sister-in-law Dorcas has few other options now. Is there a problem with the two of us living here for the next month or so?”

  Thomas Jr. looked around the room. “Sorry, Sarah, I think we forget you are so grown up. I don’t have an objection. Samuel, what about you? This is your house, isn’t it?”

  Sarah looked at Samuel. His house? He just shook his head at her. “Yes, it is, and selling it doesn’t help me much as Louisa and Lettie will be attending Bradford this fall and I rather not pay to put her in a second-rate boardinghouse. Carrie, wasn’t one of your daughters planning on living here too?”

  “I’d hoped to send both Prissy and Cornelia.”

  Thomas straightened. “Our Beth won’t start for another term. But having her live here is better than trying to get one of the boarding spots above the school. Any objections?”

  John opened his mouth, but Samuel glared at him, and John sat back with his arms folded.

  Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She could not endure another halfhearted proposal. “It sounds like I am running a boardinghouse. I hope Dorcas can cook.”

  “I can’t guarantee she will stay very long once the rest of the siblings find out our need for her is no longer dire. Someone is likely to claim her to come help at their house.” Thomas Jr. frowned. “I feel a bit sorry for her—always passed from house to house. Well, I had better gather my family. I’d like to get home before sunset.” He hugged each of his siblings, as well as Sarah.

  Samuel left last. “You can come with me if you’d rather not be alone tonight.”

  Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve slept more than two hours since I woke up Saturday morning. At least here I will get some sleep.”

  “Anna and Emma don’t cry loud enough to keep anyone awake.”

  “Maybe so, but Lettie kicks in her sleep. Why do you think Louisa volunteered to share a bed with Bessie?”

  “Ah, that makes sense now. Bye, pumpkin.”

  Once everyone was gone, Sarah looked around the empty house. How should she rearrange it with so many nieces coming this fall? She didn’t want to give Dorcas Emma’s room, but it felt wrong to take it for herself just yet. The bed would need new ticking. If she emptied the mattress, that would be a good enough reason to put Dorcas in the room Maryanna and the other girls had used during their stays at the house.

  Sarah had the old straw out before she realized she didn’t have any new. She would need to get word to Samuel or John that she needed some.

  Hunger finally drove her to stop her preparation of the rooms. The bottle of beets sat on the table in the same spot as yesterday. Sarah wondered how many times the bottle had been gifted at a funeral or birth. She lifted it to move it to a side shelf, and a paper fluttered to the floor.

  Your secret didn’t die with Mrs. Wilson.

  Sarah sunk to the floor and cried.

  Twenty-six

  “I can’t believe it snowed here two weeks ago,” Dorcas Smith said as she fanned herself. “Today it is hot enough for the devil himself to come dance on the street.”

  “I think you have it just about right. I don’t think I have ever lived in such an upside-down year.” Sarah pulled at the fabric of her dress and bent back over the silk she was painting. Af
ter seeing the memorial Sarah had painted for herself depicting the story of Ruth and Naomi, Samuel had requested one for himself. She couldn’t resist portraying Hannah leaving Samuel at the temple.

  Amity continued sewing her nine-patch squares. Already she had enough squares for a child-sized quilt. Her seizures had come frequently over the past two weeks, but Sarah didn’t send Noah after Dr. Dawes unless Amity hit her head. Mr. Barns asked if she could stay with Sarah until the baby came. Amity was a welcome addition, and putting her in Emma’s room seemed natural.

  Unlike the heat.

  Amity found a scrap of paper to fan herself with. The writing looked familiar.

  “Sweetheart, can I trade you my fan for that paper?”

  “Fan-n.” The smile on Amity’s face told Sarah the fan would never be hers again.

  I gave you two weeks to mourn.

  But I grow tired.

  Who shall I tell first?

  Two weeks ago, Tim had worried about his littlest patients dying because they were too cold. Today he worried about his oldest patients dying due to the excessive heat. Fortunately, most of them had family to dampen their clothing and keep them in cooler parts of the houses or out in the shade. He worried about the farmers out in their fields, desperately trying to make up for the crops lost in the snowstorm.

  His rounds were taking him past the Samuel Wilson farm. Sure of his welcome and of water for his horse, Tim rode into the yard.

  Lucy and several of the children were working in the garden. Everyone shouted, “Dr. Dawes!” at once. Benjamin came for Tim’s horse and led the beast in the direction of the barn.

  “Come, sit.” Lucy told him. “James has already gone to get a fresh bucket of water. I think we are all tempted to jump in the well today. I told the children if they helped me for a half hour they could go play in what is left of the creek. You rode up at the twenty-five-minute mark. Thank you. I couldn’t stand out here another minute.” Lucy fanned herself. Summer had come with a vengeance, and despite the late snow, the crops still didn’t have enough rain to see them through.