He took another plate, leaned against her shoulder, and sniffed, sending odd tingles racing through her at his nearness. If she turned, she’d be only an inch or two from his cheek. She sidestepped and placed a biscuit on her plate then a small spoon of peaches. “Where’s Jack and Cody? I haven’t seen them.”
Luke laid a half dozen slices of bacon on his plate. “He took Cody down to the creek to wash up. The boy wet himself last night.”
“I wonder if it was the excitement of sleeping in a tent or something else. As far as I know he hasn’t done that in a while.”
“Don’t know.”
“I hope they get back in time to eat. I wonder if I should fix them a plate.”
“You go right ahead and do that,” Mrs. Peterson said. “But do it fast. Here come my men.”
Sarah glanced over her shoulder then handed her plate to Luke and stepped around him, grabbing two more plates. By the time she’d filled them, a herd of Petersons had galloped into camp. The twins smiled at her, tipping their hats in unison. Had they planned that or did they always do things at the same time?
Johnny stopped next to the wagon and smiled at her. “You gonna eat all that?” With his fair hair and hazel eyes, he looked more like Amos than the twins. Mrs. Peterson had warned her that her youngest three boys—as she called the big, strapping men—were looking to marry. Amos had a wife and two daughters living in El Reno. Because the youngest was only four months old, they hadn’t come on this trip.
Sarah sat next to Luke on the end of a bench someone had moved near the campfire. Had he purposely sat in the middle so one of the other men wouldn’t sit beside her? If so, it was a considerate thing for him to do. She laid the two plates on the far end of the bench, liking how he watched out for her and protected her, but did she care enough to marry him? Although she’d turned him down, the idea kept rising to the top of her thoughts like cream in a milk bucket.
Maybe after her house was built she’d feel differently.
Three days after the start of construction, Sarah sat in the buggy next to Luke and stretched her gaze towards town. When she returned, she hoped to see the skeleton of her house rising from the foundation. She was glad she had made arrangements in advance for the Petersons to purchase and bring the wood for the house. With all the construction happening in Anadarko, she might have had a long wait to get her hands on any precut lumber.
As much as she enjoyed watching the progress, she needed this trip to town. She hadn’t planned well enough for the meals she’d expected to share with Jack, Luke, and Cody and needed to lay in some more supplies. It had been a blessing when Zelma—as Mrs. Peterson had asked her to call her—had invited her to join them for meals. Sarah smiled, proud of herself for learning the art of cooking on an open fire, but she still needed more provisions for her and her men. Bacon and fresh eggs were on her list as well as some smoked meat, potatoes, and fresh vegetables, if any were to be had.
The sound of hammering greeted them as they drove into Anadarko. She glanced behind her to see Cody playing in the back with some wooden animals his pa had carved for him last year. With her watching his son, Jack was free to help with the house and not worry about him.
“Your pancakes were real good.” Luke smiled.
“Thank you. I’m so glad Zelma offered to let us eat with them. I’ve learned a lot from her.” She chuckled. “Zelma has told me several times, ‘Hungry men are unhappy men.’”
Luke flicked a glance at her. “I figured as much. I had my mind prepared that all we’d get to eat was pancakes. Pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and supper—and not nearly as good as this morning’s were.”
“Very funny.” She nudged him in the side, not wanting to admit how close to the truth he was. “Zelma said the key to good pancakes is buttermilk. So, what are you going to do while I shop?”
“Check and see if there are any new notices posted of lots for sale.”
“Have you tried looking in a newspaper?”
He turned the wagon, guiding it down another street. “No, but that’s a great idea, if I can find one.”
“Do you know where any general stores are? I haven’t spent enough time here to locate one.”
He nodded. “I saw a sign for one yesterday. It’s up ahead.”
He guided the horses to the side of East Oklahoma Street in front of the Anadarko General Store—a store in a tent—then stopped and set the brake. He jumped down and hurried around to help her descend the wagon. She bent and reached for his shoulders as he cupped her around the waist then easily lifted her to the ground. They locked eyes, and she smiled her thanks, momentarily stunned by the affection in his gaze. Then he stepped back, breaking the brief moment. Rattled, she turned to Cody. “Ready to do some shopping?”
The boy looked less than enthused.
“You want me to take him?”
Cody’s blue eyes brightened and he jumped up. “Yeah, can I go with Luke?”
His excitement to join Luke instead of her was a disappointment, but it would allow her to focus on her task and finish quicker. She loved going into a store and smelling all of the fresh scents and seeing the new fabrics and what all was available. “Of course, if that’s what you prefer.”
The boy shrugged, looking serious. “Shopping is for ladies.”
Luke chuckled, and she shot him a glare. “Men shop for things, too. In fact, Luke is shopping for land, but it’s fine for you to accompany him.”
“Yippee!” He leaped from the wagon, forcing Luke to adjust his stance and catch him in midair.
“I shouldn’t be too long. If I’m not here when you get finished”—she waved her hand in the air— “check the stores nearby. I won’t go far, but I’d like to see what’s available here in case I forgot to order something I need for the house.”
Luke tipped his hat to her, and he and Cody headed down the street. Anyone who didn’t know them would assume Luke was the boy’s father. He’d make a good father—a fun one—someday. She swallowed a lump in her throat at the thought then turned her attention to shopping. Nothing like a long shopping list to get a woman’s thoughts off of a man.
At the store she paused at the entryway to inhale the scents of spices, coffee, leather, and so many other things. As she wandered the aisles of the tent, she checked to see what the place had to offer, as well as the prices. She’d read in the newspaper that in some start-up towns, storeowners were charging inflated prices, but this one seemed to be fair.
After studying the list of smoked meat available that was posted at the counter, she ordered a large ham and two slabs of bacon.
The clerk, a man she’d guess was in his fifties, marked it on a piece of paper then looked up. “A woman traded me some full-grown hens this morning if you’re in the market for some.”
She tapped her lip, thinking. Plucking a hen wasn’t her favorite task, but they made for good eating. “I hadn’t thought to buy any until my henhouse was built, but they would taste good for supper. Do you have a cage for them?”
“Got some wooden crates with enough holes for air but not so many that they could escape.”
“Good. I’ll take six then, and just enough feed to last a week.” That way they could enjoy another chicken meal later in the week. Three hens for tonight and three for next time. “Do you have any fresh eggs or milk?”
He removed his wire-framed spectacles and wiped them with a rag he pulled from under the counter. “Got a couple dozen eggs that came in this morning, but I’m plumb outta milk.”
“Do you have three dozen?”
“Just barely.”
“Good. I’ll take them, too, and a hunk of that cheese behind you.”
The man nodded then walked into the back of the store. Sarah strolled the aisles, making sure there wasn’t something she’d forgotten. It amazed her that with the town being so new, the storeowner had had time to get all these supplies sent to Anadarko and set up so quickly. She paused at the canned foods, carried several cans of applesauce,
peaches, and apples to the counter, then returned for some green beans. She much preferred them fresh, but canned would do in a pinch.
She needed to show Zelma her cornfield, and she probably should water it and pick the new ears that were ready. Muttering a prayer for God to bless the people who’d planted it, she walked to the bins that held the fresh food. If she got more ears than she could use, she could bring them and trade for other things.
The store had a supply of carrots, onions, and turnips. After carrying what she wanted to the counter, she added a bushel of potatoes to her list.
“I should’ve introduced myself,” the clerk said as he strode back into the store, carrying her ham and bacon in a box. “My name’s Theodore Moore. My wife, Betty, helps me at times, but she’s doing the washing today.”
“A pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Sarah Worley. I’ve got a homestead not far from town.”
“Is there a Mr. Worley?”
Her cheeks warmed. “No, there isn’t.”
He rubbed his chin. “I heard some females won land, but you’re the first I’ve met. Mighty brave of you to set up housekeeping in such a rugged place.”
She smiled. This part of the territory didn’t seem all that much rougher than where Gabe and Lara lived, except that she had no home, well, or other basics she needed, but they would come in time. “Here’s the list of the rest of the things I need. Could I leave it while I visit some other stores?”
“Sure can. I’ll have it ready in a short while, providing I don’t get overly busy with customers.”
“Thank you. I’ll return shortly.” She smiled and walked out the door. Looking to her left and then her right, she wondered where to go next. She couldn’t afford to buy much, only things absolutely necessary, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t browse. She took a step to her right and noticed a handsome, well-dressed man and a young boy walking toward her. The man smiled and tipped his hat, but the boy stopped suddenly, staring at her with wide eyes and open mouth. Suddenly his eyes sparked and he ran toward her. “Mama!”
Chapter 10
Sarah braced herself as the boy collided with her skirts and hugged her. She lifted her stunned eyes to his father’s. The man hadn’t moved a step, and the color had fled his tanned face. His confused gaze locked with hers.
Not knowing what to do, she reached down and patted the boy’s head. He’d held on to her as if she actually were his mother and he hadn’t seen her in weeks. Where was his mother? Why would he think she was her?
The man finally escaped his stupor, walked over to them, and then knelt beside the boy, pain etched on his handsome face. “Phillip, you know this woman isn’t your mother.”
He grasped her tighter. “She is. She is!”
The man gently laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder then attempted to pull him away.
“No!” The child jerked free and buried his face deeper in Sarah’s skirt.
The man stood, removed his hat, and ran his fingers through his dark, neatly cropped hair. He opened his mouth then shut it and turned his head, staring into the distance as if he could find the words there to explain his son’s odd behavior.
“I’m Sarah Worley.” She smiled when he looked at her again.
He cleared his throat. “My deepest apologies, Miss Worley. I’m Stephen Barlow, and this is my son, Phillip.”
Sarah glanced at a bench in front of the store. “Maybe we could sit for a minute and clear things up?”
He nodded. “Of course. Come on, Phillip. Let’s have a seat on this bench.”
“Is she coming too?”
Sarah smiled at the boy. “Yes, I am.”
He wiped his dark eyes then took hold of her hand, stealing a piece of Sarah’s heart. Again, Mr. Barlow flashed an apology.
“It’s fine. Honestly, I don’t mind.”
“You’re very kind, Miss—or is it Mrs.—Worley?”
Sarah sat, and Phillip scrambled up next to her, leaving his father standing. Not wanting to stare up at the tall man, she scooted over, pulling Phillip with her. Judging by his small size, she guessed he was a little younger than Cody, around five years old. “It’s Miss Worley.”
Mr. Barlow sat on the very edge of the bench. His right knee bounced. He flicked a quick glance at his son, who leaned against her arm, his left thumb in his mouth. The man’s lips pursed in obvious concern, probably for his son as well as her. “I …” He cleared his throat. “My wife, Rosalia …” He looked away again then sighed loudly. “She died almost two months ago.”
Phillip started humming and swinging one foot.
“She had gone back east to visit her parents and suddenly took sick. I’ve taken Phillip back there, but he’s having a difficult time believing she will not be returning.”
The poor child. She ran her hand down Phillip’s cheek as he gazed up at her adoringly. This wasn’t good. Surely he could tell she wasn’t truly his mother. She glanced up at Mr. Barlow and mouthed, “What do we do?”
He shook his head and shrugged. “This never happened before.”
Holding her hand gently against Phillip’s ear, she whispered, “Do I truly look like your wife?”
Mr. Barlow’s dark brown eyes warmed. “Actually, you do. Her eyes weren’t black like yours, but they were brown, although I’d say her hair was a shade or two darker—and curlier. Rosalia was almost full-blooded Italian. Very beautiful … as you are.”
Uncomfortable for the first time, she glanced down the street, hoping to see Luke returning. How was she going to untangle herself from Phillip without wounding the poor boy emotionally? He’d been through so much already.
Mr. Barlow held his hat in front of him. “May I ask what you’re doing here in Anadarko? Do you have family that won a claim or bought land in the auction?”
She smiled again. “Actually, I won a claim. It’s not far from town.”
His mouth dropped open, but he quickly recovered from his surprise. “Congratulations. You sure don’t look like a farmer or rancher. What do you plan to do with all that land?”
“I haven’t decided yet. My first order of business is to get my house built.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “Surely you’re not constructing it yourself?”
Sarah shook her head. “I know my limitations, sir. I hired a crew to work on it.” She glanced down at Phillip. His leg had stilled, and he felt heavy against her arm. “I do believe your son has fallen asleep.”
Mr. Barlow heaved another sigh. “He’s had trouble sleeping since Rosalia’s death. He wakes up screaming quite frequently. He hasn’t adjusted to living in a tent here, but I don’t want to send him home with my aunt, who cares for him while I’m working. I can’t leave, either. I’m the engineer tasked with overseeing the construction of the depot.”
Her heart ached for the father and son. “I will pray for you both.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” He stood and bent down. “Let’s hope he doesn’t awaken until you make your getaway.”
“What will you tell him?”
He lifted his gaze to her, and her heart pounded at the intensity in them. It had to be because he was only inches away. She could feel his warm breath on her face. “The truth,” he said softly. “But if you would consider joining us for a meal in the tent for railroad workers, I’d be truly grateful.”
A meal? Was he asking for Phillip’s well-being or his own? “To what end, sir?”
“To help my son, Miss Worley. I believe seeing you again will help him adjust to his mother being gone, and knowing that he will see you again will make my discussion with him go much easier. It was our good fortune to cross paths with you today.”
She searched his gaze, looking for an ulterior motive. Surely a man who’d so recently lost his wife wouldn’t be looking for another one. He seemed like a nice gentleman, but she learned from her own father that men could easily wear masks when they wanted to impress someone. Knowing they would meet in a public place and that Phillip would be there eased h
er concern. Maybe she should bring Cody along so the boys could play with one another. “All right. For Phillip’s sake, I’ll meet you for lunch this Friday at one, providing your aunt will be there.”
Stephen Barlow’s eyes twinkled, and a smile lifted one side of his mouth. Her heartbeat kicked up its pace. He certainly was a fine-looking man. He finally nodded and picked up his son. “For Phillip’s sake.”
“You’re in for a surprise, Zelma.” Sarah helped the older woman down the incline to the river. “Cody, you stay there until I can help you.”
“I can cross by myself,” the boy shouted.
“No, you wait.”
“I wouldn’t mind a soak in the water,” Zelma said as she stepped to another flat rock, “if I didn’t know I’d just get sweaty all over again later.”
“Be careful crossing on these rocks. It’s not deep here, but the surface of the rocks is a bit slippery because of the moss on them.”
“All righty. Don’t worry about me. A dunkin’ won’t hurt a thing.”
It wasn’t the dunking Sarah was concerned with but rather that the heavyset woman might twist her ankle or hurt some other part of her body if she fell. There was no way she could get Zelma out by herself.
She blew out a pent breath as they drew near to the farside. With a not-so-graceful leap, they made it onto the other bank of the river. “Be right back.” She crossed the river again, thankful for the low water level, snagged Cody’s hand, and then returned to the other side. What she needed was a bridge, especially if she decided to plant corn in this plot of land next spring. Tonight she’d tally up her money and see if she could afford to hire the Petersons to build one while they were here.
They walked about ten feet when Zelma stopped suddenly. “Land sakes! Is that a corn patch?”
Sarah smiled. “Surprise! Didn’t you wonder where the corn came from that we ate the other night?”
“I just assumed you traded for it in town.” Zelma turned toward her, eyes still wide. “How did it get here?”
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