Sarah's Surrender

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by McDonough, Vickie;


  Jack stood inside the barn, comforting his son. Carson started forward, but his gaze landed on a barrel sitting out in the open. He was grateful for one thing going right. “Sarah, isn’t this the water barrel?” He lifted the lid and looked in. “It is. Someone must have moved it away from the fire.”

  She eased her head around and nodded. “I think so.” She moved slowly—almost lethargically—toward him. Had the smoke affected her more than he realized, or was the trauma of the burning house responsible for her downheartedness? He’d read in medical journals about doctors studying how traumatic events affected people. Sarah was showing some of the symptoms, but that was certainly understandable.

  She walked over to the barrel and looked in. “There’s still some but not much.”

  He reached down and snagged the tin cup floating in the water. He filled the cup and handed it to her. She took it and stood there, staring into the cup. “Sarah, you need to drink it. Your body has had a shock.”

  She did as told then turned back and stared at the house. “There’s no saving it. I’d hoped at first …”

  He hated the forlorn tone to her voice. He wished he had the right to wrap his arm around her and offer comfort, but all he had to give her were words of encouragement. “It can be rebuilt.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have enough money for that.”

  His stomach tightened. Did that mean she’d leave town? He wasn’t sure when he’d come to care for her, but he realized now that he did. “What will you do?’

  “I don’t know. The land is mine, but I have to live on it for fives years and improve it before I get the official title. If I don’t, I could lose it.”

  “You have years to get that done. Perhaps you could start with a small house and add on later.”

  She shrugged, as if thinking about it was too much.

  “Let me take you to town. Get you something to eat. There’s a new hotel you can stay in.”

  She shook her head. “Thank you, but I need to stay here. I have to prepare lunch for the men.”

  Carson wanted to say the men could fend for themselves, but after fighting the fire, they would be exhausted.

  “I need to do something. I can’t just stand here.”

  “Where do you do your cooking?” There hadn’t been a stove inside the house, so he knew she didn’t cook there.”

  She looked down the hill to her right. “At the Petersons’ camp.”

  “Why don’t we walk down there? You can still watch what’s happening, but the heat won’t be so fierce.” He still had his handkerchief in his hand and longed to wipe the sweat and grime off his face, but he held it out to her instead. “Why don’t you wet this and clean your face?”

  She looked at him and blinked. “My face is dirty?”

  “Just a little soot.” And sweat.

  “Oh. I must look like you do.”

  He glanced into the barrel, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, but the water level was too low.

  “Could you get me some more water, please? I can’t reach it.”

  “Certainly.” He dipped the cup again and handed it to her.

  She poured the water over the handkerchief, dropped the cup in the barrel, and then wiped her face. “That feels good.” When she pulled the soiled hanky away, her dark eyes widened. “Oh my. You weren’t joking.”

  He relaxed his tense stance, glad to hear her sounding closer to normal. At least there was a pitch to her voice instead of the monotone that had been there a moment ago.

  She gazed up at him then stared off in the distance. “A couple showed up this morning, claiming to be Claire’s grandparents. They knew enough information that we believed them.” She swallowed hard. “I gave her to them. Just handed that poor little girl over.”

  “Why wouldn’t you if they were her relatives?”

  She looked at him again, her gaze bleak. “That’s what I thought, too, even though it broke my heart to give her to them. Mr. Powell—the supposed grandfather—started the fire before he left.”

  Carson gripped the edge of the barrel. “Why would he do that?”

  “To keep us from going after him—when we realized they’d lied. I don’t believe they are related to Claire at all.”

  “Oh, Sarah. What are you going to do?”

  “Luke figured it out and went after them.”

  “Who’s Luke?”

  A sweet smile—one he didn’t at all like since it related to a man—softened her expression. “He’s a very good friend of mine. He realized the Powells had said Claire’s mother had green eyes when they were actually blue, just like her daughter’s. I pray he finds them and brings her back.”

  He ached to ask about her relationship with this Luke. Who was he to Sarah that in spite of all she’d been through this morning, she’d have almost a starry-eyed look when she talked about him?

  Carson felt as if he were losing the battle to win Sarah’s heart. If this Luke fellow brought the child back, he’d be a hero in Sarah’s eyes.

  A hammering in his head pulled Luke from the blackness. The room swirled. He closed his eyes then slowly opened them, staring up at a brand-new ceiling. As the dizziness fled, he realized the pounding was actually hammers nearby and not in his skull. His shoulder and upper arm burned as if someone had poured lantern oil on them and set them afire, exactly like that man had done to Sarah’s house. Sarah!

  He bolted upright, hissing and grabbing his arm.

  “Hold on there, young man.” A stranger pushed him down. “In case you don’t remember, you’ve been shot. My name’s Dr. Littleton. You are fortunate that the bullet passed all the way through your shoulder, but you’ve lost a lot of blood. You need to rest.”

  Luke glanced around the spotless room. “Where’s Claire?”

  “My wife is seeing to the girl. She was quite upset to leave you, but she settled down once Tillie gave her something to eat. She’s asleep now.”

  The tension eased from his neck a bit. “I appreciate all you’ve done, but I can’t stay here, Doc. When I left this morning to rescue Claire from the folks who’d pretended to be her grandparents and stole her, my dear friend’s house was on fire. I have to get back there.”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do. By now the fire is either out or it will have done its damage.”

  “You don’t understand. I’m going back. One way or another.”

  Dr. Littleton crossed his arms and stared at him with a humorous expression. “I suppose you’re going to hop on that fine horse of yours and hold on to that little girl and ride back to your friend’s place.”

  Luke had to admit the plan sounded less reasonable coming from the doctor’s mouth. He could ride back and leave Claire napping for the time being, but Sarah would have a fit if he didn’t bring her gal home. And he’d promised.

  “If that’s the only way, I reckon I have no choice.”

  Doc shook his head and mumbled something about stubborn men. “If I must, I’ll drive you home in my buggy.”

  Luke smiled. “I’d appreciate that—a whole lot.”

  An hour later, Luke stared at the charred remains of Sarah’s house. Dark smoke still rose up from the ashes, but he saw no flames. There was nothing left to burn. The ache in his gut was far greater than the one in his shoulder. Sarah’s pretty house—her dream—was a total loss.

  Beside him on the seat of Dr. Littleton’s buggy, Claire babbled something and then shoved a gummy biscuit the doctor’s wife had given her into her mouth. At least Claire’s return would help Sarah get over the loss of her home. Would she give up on her dream now and go back to Gabe and Lara’s place? If she did, what would he do? The idea of owning a livery had grown on him, but Anadarko held little draw if Sarah wasn’t here. But at the same time, what was the point of following her back home if she had no interest in marrying him? Sooner or later, he’d have to give up if she kept refusing him. A man had his pride, after all.

  Behind them, from where he was tied
to the buggy, Golden Boy nickered. Luke glanced toward the Peterson camp to see Jack riding their way. As he drew close, he saw the exhaustion on his friend’s face. Jack stopped his horse and frowned. “What happened to you?”

  “Got shot as I played the knight in shining armor. This is Dr. Littleton. He’s the one who fixed up my shoulder.”

  “I appreciate that, Doc, and thanks for bringing this galoot home.” Jack nodded; then his gaze connected with Luke’s. “I’m glad you’re all right. Don’t know what Sarah would have done if she lost you. I’m real glad to see you got Claire. Sarah needs some good news.”

  Claire squealed and waved. Jack smiled and returned her wave, grinning—probably for the first time today.

  “Sarah made lunch. She saved you some. There’s enough for you, too, Dr. Littleton.”

  “Thank you, but my wife will have my meal ready when I get home.”

  “We’re beholdin’ to you. Guess I’ll check again to make sure no more fires have started.” Jack reined his horse toward the debris.

  Luke pointed the doc where to go, and as they drew near, he noticed Sarah, one of the men he’d passed earlier, and the Peterson men sitting around the campfire. He didn’t like the way the stranger sat so close to her.

  Sarah lifted her gaze then shot to her feet. She threw down her plate, hiked up her skirts, and raced toward him. His heartbeat kicked into a higher gait. If only she was running to him and not Claire.

  He picked her up with his good arm. “Lookie there, sweetheart. Your mama’s comin’.”

  Doc stopped the buggy as she drew near. Her yellow dress was blackened with soot, but intriguing wisps of her hair had tugged loose from the long braid that hung down her back. Tears glistened in her black eyes. “Claire! Oh, thank You, God.”

  Claire bounced on his thigh and shrieked, holding out her arms. Sarah leaned against his leg and snatched her. She hugged the girl so hard, he thought she might break something. He smiled seeing how happy he’d made Sarah.

  Doc leaned toward him. “Now I understand why you were in such a hurry to get back.”

  Luke couldn’t help the sad smile he gave him. Too bad Sarah wasn’t as happy to see him. He looked at her again, and her smile dimmed.

  “What happened?”

  “He got shot rescuing that little girl,” the doctor offered.

  Sarah shifted Claire to her hip. “How bad is it?”

  “Nothing a few weeks of rest won’t help, as long as the wound stays clean.” Doc eyed him to make sure he understood. “Be sure you come back to my office so I can check it in two days.”

  Luke grunted. “Too much to do to rest.”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes. “I’ll see that he follows your orders.”

  Luke kind of liked the sound of that, even though it probably meant he’d be in bed for days. What he didn’t like was that the stranger from camp had followed her. Nor did he care for the expression on the man’s face as he gazed at her. Just who was this interloper?

  The man glanced at Dr. Littleton. “Nice to see you again, Clem.”

  “You, too, Carson.”

  “Doc, this is Sarah Worley. Too much squealin’ goin’ on to tell you sooner.” Luke rose, hating the weakness in his limbs. He managed to climb down without embarrassing himself. Sarah walked up to him, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. Instant strength rushed through him, and he straightened.

  “I can’t thank you enough for bringing Claire back. Are you hurting badly?”

  “You can talk later,” Dr. Littleton said. “Mr. McNeil lost quite a bit of blood and may be weak for a few days. You’d best help him find a seat before he falls down. I wanted to keep him until tomorrow, but he was more than a little insistent that he needed to get back to you.”

  Luke glared at the man. He wouldn’t have minded his speech if not for that Carson fellow. But a man shouldn’t have his weaknesses aired in front of strangers.

  Jack rode back, dismounted, and then untied Golden Boy. “C’mon, Luke. I’ll help you up. It’s a bit far for you to walk.”

  He nodded his thanks, even though Jack practically had to shove him up into the saddle. His arm blazed like a prairie fire, but he did his best not to grimace. He hated the fact that his bed sounded like a good place to be, but he wouldn’t head for it until the stranger left. The man needed to know where things stood with him and Sarah. Too bad he didn’t know.

  Chapter 21

  Sarah smiled as she carried Claire back to the campsite. The girl jabbered, as if retelling her adventurous story. Jack rode alongside Luke then helped him to dismount, but instead of heading to his tent, the stubborn man dropped onto Zelma’s chair. Amos and Johnny smiled at Claire as they headed toward the barn.

  Cody ran to her. “Hi, Claire. Are you glad you’re back?”

  Concerned for Luke, she handed the toddler to the boy. “Can you play with her for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” He lugged her to a spot near Luke then sat her on the ground and joined her.

  Carson stood two yards away. “Walk me to my horse? I probably should get back to town.”

  Sarah glanced behind her then nodded.

  “I’m real sorry we didn’t arrive in time to save your house.”

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Without rain, I doubt fifty men could have stopped the blaze.”

  He smiled. “I know this is a terrible time to ask, but I was hoping you might join me in town for supper one evening. I’m happy to ride out and pick you up.”

  Sarah shot a glance at Luke and caught him scowling at them. “Thank you, but I don’t know what’s going to happen now.”

  “I hope you’ll consider rebuilding.”

  She shook her head. “I really don’t know. It’s too soon to make a decision.”

  He pursed his lips then nodded. “I understand. Please let me know what you decide, and the dinner offer stands—anytime you’re available.”

  “Thank you. I probably should go. Luke will sit there all day if I don’t make him go to his tent.”

  Carson frowned. “Do you and he have an understanding that I should know about?”

  Dr. Worth was interested in her? How had she not noticed? She avoided his gaze as she searched her mind. How could she explain Luke to him? “He’s a very close friend.”

  “That’s all? A friend?”

  And the man who rescued Claire. “It’s hard for me to put my feelings for him into words.”

  “I see. I should be going.”

  Sarah reached out and touched his arm. “Thank you again for all your help.”

  He nodded once more then turned and strode toward his horse. She hated the thought that she’d disappointed him. Why couldn’t men simply be friends instead of wanting more? She knew how to be a friend, but it was the wanting more part that scared her.

  She walked toward Luke. He definitely wanted more. Though thrilled at having Claire back, she had nearly dropped her when she first caught site of Luke’s pale face and fresh bandage.

  “Who is that man?” He asked as she drew near.

  “I’m sorry for not introducing you.”

  “I’m not.”

  She almost smiled at his pouty, little boy look. “Dr. Worth is the man who checked out Claire when we first found her.”

  “He sure seems friendly.”

  Jack chuckled as he poured a cup of coffee. Luke glared when he handed him the cup. “That hole in your shoulder sure has made you crabby. Why don’t you go lie down and do us all a favor?”

  “It isn’t the wound.”

  “Then what is it?” Sarah asked.

  Both Jack and Luke looked at her like she’d suddenly lost all of her hair. She reached up to touch it, wincing at the silly thought.

  “He’s jealous of the doctor,” Cody said.

  Jack spewed his coffee, and Luke choked on his.

  Sarah’s face grew warm. Luke was jealous? “There’s nothing between Dr. Worth and me.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. “How can you be so
naive?”

  She shoved her hands to her hips. “What does that mean?”

  Jack picked up Claire. “Cody, c’mon. Let’s tend to the horses.”

  “Why? I was havin’ fun with Claire.”

  Jack shot his son a look. “She can help us.”

  Cody fell into step with his pa. “Aw … she’s too little to help.”

  Sarah focused on Luke. His face was even paler than when he first sat down. “You need to rest.”

  He attempted to stand but fell back down. “I hate bein’ so weak and useless.”

  Sarah hurried to his side. “You are not useless. I wouldn’t have Claire if not for you.” She leaned down and reached for his good arm. “Come on. Let me help you to your tent.”

  Luke grimaced as he slowly forced himself up. Concern washed through Sarah. She’d never seen him like this. He was always so confident and strong. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she helped support him on the walk to his tent. As they reached it, she paused, unsure whether to go in or not.

  “I hate saying it, but I don’t think I can move another step without your help.”

  “All right.” She struggled to pull open the flap with one hand but managed.

  They stepped inside and moved straight toward Luke’s cot. She couldn’t help looking around the tidy tent. For some reason, she’d expected it to be messy. She helped him onto the cot, and he sat there breathing hard. He reached down and attempted to remove his boot but failed.

  Sarah knelt in front of him. “Let me help.” She tugged and tugged, and finally the boot came loose and she fell onto her backside. Luke chuckled for the first time since his return. “Don’t laugh or I’ll leave the other boot on your foot.”

  He smiled at her, the emotion shining from his eyes making her mouth go dry.

  Disconcerted, she rose onto her knees. “Give me your other foot.”

  He stuck it out, and thankfully this boot came off easier, allowing her to retain her dignity. She set them under his cot.

  He smiled up at her. “I’m much obliged for your help.”

 

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