Sarah's Surrender

by McDonough, Vickie;

  Fierce bidding began for the first lot—not one of his selected ones.

  “Twenty-five dollars,” a man in front of him shouted.

  “Thirty!” A woman in a blue-flowered sunbonnet waved her hand in the air.

  “Fifty!”

  He watched with interest as the amount rose to seventy dollars—quite an astounding amount for a lot on the barren prairie. He couldn’t decide if he should bid on the first of his chosen lots or wait until the end. If he waited, the selling price may be lower because those with more money would have already gotten their land, but then again, prices could rise as there were fewer and fewer lots left and people grew more desperate. No, better to go for the first and hope he got it. He had confidence he would because God had led him here for the purpose of reestablishing his practice. It was just a matter of which lot and how much. The less he had to pay meant more funds for purchasing needed supplies and medicines, so he needed to be frugal.

  The auctioneer hollered out one of the lot numbers on his paper, and Carson’s heartbeat shot up as it had the first time he’d sliced into a live person with a scalpel. He was tempted to shout out a bid but chose instead to watch and wait. If he called out too soon, it could cost him.

  “Twenty!”

  “Twenty-five!”

  “Forty!”

  The bids continued, and with each one, his pulse raced like a runaway train. Sweat poured down his face, but he feared wiping it and having the auctioneer mistake the action for a bid. At least the light breeze helped cool him. The bidding slowed as did the increment of each one.

  “Sixty-two.”

  “—three.”

  “Sixty-four,” A man up front yelled. When no one countered him, he cast a proud grin around the crowd.

  If he didn’t know it was impossible, Carson felt sure his heart would pound clear out of his chest and take wing. Now or never. His hand shot up, just as the auctioneer pointed his finger toward the man up front. “Sixty-five!”

  The auctioneer had his mouth open but swiveled his finger toward Carson. “We have a bid for sixty-five. Any others?”

  The man up front glared at Carson, then his shoulders slumped. Carson tasted victory.

  “Sold!” The auctioneer directed his gaze at Carson while the loser yanked off his hat, slapping it against his trousers. “Congratulations, sir. Make your way up front and pay for your lot.”

  Unmitigated delight surged through him at his success. He blew out a loud breath and cast a quick glance heavenward, knowing that in truth the success had been God’s, not his. Amid slaps on his shoulders and choruses of “Congratulations” coming from all directions, he nodded his thanks over and over as he squeezed through the horde to claim his land.

  The train shuddered as it pulled out of the El Reno depot, taking Sarah, Jack, and Luke back to Guthrie. Sarah relaxed against the seat, watching the town slowly go by, unable to believe how much her life was about to change.

  Sarah glanced at Jack, who sat across the aisle, arms crossed with his hat over his face as he attempted to rest. She felt bad that his name hadn’t been drawn, but he seemed at peace with that and eager to return to his son.

  Luke was another thing. She was happy he would finally own land and could realize his dream of being a rancher, but a part of her resented that he wanted to get land close to hers. On the other hand, having someone she knew nearby would be nice. She glanced at him and caught him staring.

  He winked, creating strange sensations in her stomach. She looked at the closest passengers to see if anyone noticed his antics. Luke shot a glance in Jack’s direction then straightened in his seat and cleared his voice. He leaned sideways, tugging a small package from his pocket. “I had hoped to find some time alone in El Reno to give you this, but that never happened.”

  Her heart flip-flopped. What if it was a ring? Surely he wouldn’t buy one after she’d turned down his proposal. “What is it?”

  He held out the tiny package tied with a blue ribbon. “It’s just a little something to celebrate your getting a homestead.”

  “Lu–uke, you didn’t need to get me a gift.” He’d given her flowers and small things he’d made before but never a wrapped, store-bought present.

  He shrugged. “I know, but I wanted to.”

  She accepted the package. “Thank you. That was very kind of you.”

  “Open it before you thank me. You might not like it.”

  The image of a ring jumped into her mind again. Surely he wouldn’t give her something like that in a public setting. It would make the rest of the ride home awkward. Her cheeks burned. With a shaky hand, she untied the bow on the unexpected gift. She unwrapped the paper, setting it and the blue ribbon on the seat beside her. She held her breath as she tugged off the lid, revealing a beautiful gold flower with a black stone in the center—a black-eyed Susan. She sucked in a breath then gazed at Luke’s hesitant expression. “It’s lovely.”

  Luke ducked his head, looking uncharacteristically shy. “It reminded me of black-eyed Susans—and those remind me of your pretty eyes.”

  Her gaze shot to his, her heart pounding. He thought her black, colorless eyes were pretty? She wasn’t one to wish for things that were impossible, but there had been times she’d longed for pretty blue eyes like his. There’d been a few times he’d said her eyes reminded him of the bright yellow flowers with the big dark center, but she’d thought he’d been teasing her. “This is gold. Why would you get me something so expensive?”

  He shrugged one shoulder, looking more relaxed. “Your life will change now that you have land, and I wanted you to have something special to remember the day you won your homestead.”

  “Luke, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say nothin’. Just put it on.”

  She lifted the flower, examining the details. Instead of a chain, the flower hung from a yellow ribbon.

  “I … uh … didn’t have enough money with me to buy the chain. I hope that’s all right.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “It’s perfect. I love it just like this.” The chain would have been too much. She didn’t wear fancy clothes or jewelry. In fact, the only other necklace she owned was a silver cross that Gabe and Lara had given her on her twentieth birthday last year.

  She handed the necklace to Luke. “Would you please tie it on?”

  “If I don’t drop it.” His tanned complexion darkened in a rare blush. “Turn around.”

  She did as asked, not expecting the tingling on her neck that his gentle touch brought as he lifted the hair that had come loose from her bun.

  He fiddled for a moment then patted her shoulder. “All done.”

  She turned on the seat to face him, fingering the flower. “How does it look?”

  His eyes flicked down for a second then lifted to her face. He raised his hand, lightly brushing his knuckle down her cheek. “Beautiful. More beautiful than a whole field of flowers.”

  Rattled, she smiled at him then turned, glancing across the aisle at Jack, who still rested. Had he overheard, or was he really asleep? Across the aisle, the other passengers were engaged in conversation.

  She settled back, attempting to study the new list of supplies—things she’d added since visiting Jo and giving her the original list. There were so many things she needed to purchase, and she only had so much money. Having the house built would be her biggest expense. She’d asked around for recommendations of reliable men to build her house, and she finally made a deal with a man—Mr. Peterson—who had four grown sons who worked with him. The man had even said his wife was willing to come along and cook for the family for a small additional fee that Sarah was happy to pay.

  Her cooking skills weren’t bad, but she’d never had to prepare a meal on an open fire, especially for a herd of hardworking, hungry men. And she more than welcomed the idea of another woman being present while the Peterson men were on her property.

  She stared out the window at the landscape whizzing by and realized that sh
e was fingering the necklace. The ribbon was too short to allow her to see it without a mirror, but it warmed her heart, knowing it was there. What a kind thing for Luke to do. But why had he done it?

  Yes, he’d asked her to marry him and had even kissed her once, but he had never spoken any words of affection. His proposal almost sounded like one of the business deals he made when selling Gabe’s horses to a customer. In fact, at first she thought he’d been joking, like he often did. Could he actually have deep feelings for her?

  How was a woman to know? Half of her life had been spent with just her mother. She’d seen her parents together only a few times, but they’d argued each time. There had been no affection between them, but there must have been at one time. Her mother had always been quiet and never talked about Pete Worley. Had she loved him?

  He was a handsome man, although she’d hated the business he ran. Hated living at the bordello even though she hadn’t been there all that long. Most nights she’d been locked in her room to protect her from her father’s clients. What kind of father put his daughter in such a situation? She’d been frightened at first and missing her mother. She should have been there to take care of her when she was dying, but her mother hadn’t wanted her to witness her death.

  After running away with Jo and moving in with Gabe and Lara, she’d witnessed for the first time a healthy relationship between a man and woman. She’d seen a couple truly in love, a love that grew stronger over twelve years of marriage and the raising of four children.

  She peeked sideways at Luke, who’d followed Jack’s example and was resting with his arms crossed on his chest and his hat hiding his handsome face. He was her dearest friend, and she couldn’t deny that she cared for him. She’d always admired the way he deftly handled a wild horse, gentling it slowly until he had earned the animal’s trust. She trusted Luke with her life, but did she love him? How was a woman to know?

  Though Luke was nothing like her father, she couldn’t help wondering if she were to marry him, would he leave her one day as her father had left her mother?

  On the morning of August 11, Sarah stood near the front of the line of men who’d arrived at the El Reno Land Office to claim land. There were a couple of other women near the end of the line. Sarah shifted her feet, wishing Jack had come along, but he had taken Cody to the livery to shop for a buckboard for her.

  In the days since they’d returned to Gabe’s ranch, she had pored over a map of the land openings, along with Luke, Jack, and Gabe, picking out several choice pieces with good water sources near Anadarko. She prayed that one of them would still be available when it was her turn to choose a homestead.

  She turned and looked to where Luke stood a ways back. His gaze latched on hers, and he waved. She’d finally come to realize that living near someone she knew was wise. One never knew when she would need help, and being close to him meant that she wouldn’t be completely alone on her new land. She had fought the idea, wanting to be independent and self-sufficient, before realizing the wisdom of it. Lara had quietly mentioned more than once how she would worry about Sarah’s safety, and knowing Luke was near would help to ease her concern. So for her friend’s sake—and her own—she’d agreed to work with Luke and try to find land near each other.

  But there were thirty-five claim winners between her and Luke. If they all wanted to be near Anadarko and a water source, the land near hers might all be claimed before Luke got a chance to pick his homestead. At first she’d prayed he wouldn’t pick land near hers, but now she muttered a prayer that he would. The thought of living in a tent all by herself on the wild prairie had kept her awake several nights until after midnight.

  Over an hour after the land office opened and the line started moving, she stepped inside. Two men stood behind a counter, the one on the left beside several stacks of papers and a ledger book, and the other standing near a map that hung on the wall where people looking in the window could see it.

  “Good morning, ma’am.” The man by the papers, wearing a black suit with a string tie nodded at her. “I’m John Simons, and this is Mr. Meed. And what is your name?”

  “Sarah Jane Worley.” She slid the paper with her information toward him. “My claim number is 512.”

  He checked the ledger and several other papers, causing Sarah’s heartbeat to pick up speed. What if a mistake had been made? She wished Luke was here in case she had a problem, but he needed to keep his place in the line.

  Finally, Mr. Simons nodded. “Everything is in order. Move on over to Mr. Meed and pick out your homestead, Miss Worley.”

  Excitement unlike she’d known before made her hands sweat and her limbs weak. Mr. Meed eyed her then smiled. “Haven’t seen too many women pass through. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Sarah stared at the map, trying to make sense of the Xes.

  “Do you know which town site you want to live near?”

  “Anadarko, if there’s still land available.”

  Mr. Meed scratched his chest. “There’s plenty of sites still open. The land’s been split into three counties: Caddo, Comanche, and Kiowa. A county seat has been established in each one at Anadarko, Lawton, and Hobart. All of the homesteads immediately surrounding Anadarko have already been taken, so just look over the map and see what you want. You get one hundred sixty acres, in the shape of an L, T, Z, a mile strip, or a square.”

  Sarah opened her list of claims, most of which lined the Washita River, and searched for them on the map. Several had already been chosen. What made things difficult were the odd shapes of some of the homesteads. Why in the world would someone want one shaped like a Z or even a T? She preferred a square plot.

  The man was correct in that all the homesteads butting up to the town site had been picked, but there were several plots next to those still available. A large section of land north of the Washita had been reserved for the Riverside Indian school. She pointed to a lot between the river and the town. “Is that a pond there?”

  Mr. Meed leaned over, squinting at the map. “Yes’m. Appears to be a small one, and you can see here” —he tapped the map—“that the river crosses that patch of land, too.”

  She nodded but looked at lots closer to town. On the north end of Anadarko, there was a homestead in the shape of an L butting up to the town that had been claimed. If she chose the plot next to it, she’d have a short ride across her neighbor’s homestead to reach town, and a reliable water source. It seemed the perfect spot. And besides, there was plenty of available land for Luke to the north of hers, if someone didn’t beat him to it. She bounced on her tiptoes, unable to hold back her excitement, and tapped the spot on the map. “I would like that one right there—in a square shape.”

  Mr. Meed studied the map then drew a square along the land belonging to a Mr. David Robertson and then placed an X inside of it then wrote her name across the square. Mr. Robertson’s L-shaped land partially hugged two sides of hers. She hoped he was a friendly sort.

  Mr. Meed sorted through a stack of papers on a table along the back wall and pulled one out. He wrote her name, the date, and the location of her homestead on a document. “Sign here, Miss Worley.” He blew on the paper and then presented it to her with a smile. “Congratulations on owning a homestead.”

  Chapter 8

  Luke tapped his hand against his pant leg, keeping his eyes glued on the land office door. What was taking Sarah so long? Had she been able to get land close to the Anadarko town site as she wanted? He muttered another prayer—something he was getting in the habit of doing—that she would get the land she desired. The closer the homestead was to town, the safer she would be. At least that’s how he figured it.

  The thought of her in the middle of nowhere, days from a town, sent a chill up his spine. What if she got hurt? Or what if a group of troublesome rabble-rousers attacked her place? She knew how to shoot, but he wasn’t sure she would, even to save her life.

  The relentless sun heated his back and shoulders, sending trickles of
sweat down his temple and spine. What he wouldn’t give for a cloud or breeze or even a tree to stand under. He yanked off his hat and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. Doing nothing grated on his nerves. This time of day he ought to be working, not just standing around.

  He shifted his gaze back to the doorway. Sarah should be out any minute. As grateful as he was that his name had been drawn close in number to Sarah’s, there were still thirty-five people ahead of him. If they all chose land near Anadarko, his homestead might end up being miles from hers. He blew out a sigh.

  His heart bolted as Sarah stepped outside, smiling widely. Her gaze shot past the other men to him, but a man near the front of the line stopped her. Several others gathered around. She talked to them for a few minutes then stepped aside. The men tipped their hats then huddled together. Luke relaxed as she headed toward him, looking prouder than he’d ever seen.

  Holding a paper in one hand, she stopped in front of him, beaming a smile that quickened his pulse. “Can you believe it? I’m a landowner.” Her grin was contagious.

  “I’m happy for you. I know it’s a dream come true.”

  “Oh, it is.” She leaned forward and embraced him in a quick hug.

  He rested one hand on her arm, relishing the rare moment. “So, were you able to get a homestead in one of the areas you wanted?”

  Her black eyes gleamed with delight. “I did. There’s only one homestead between mine and the northern boundary of the Anadarko town site, and that one is L-shaped. That means I’ll only have to ride across a narrow strip to get to town.”

  Thank You, God. “That’s perfect. So there were plenty of lots still available in that area?”

  “At this time there are, at least on the northern and western sides. Most of the claims to the south and east of the town site had already been taken. It will all depend on what the people in line choose.” She turned and gazed at the long stretch of men in front of him.