by Nann Dunne
Leah's eyes were glistening, too. She reached for Sarah's neck, pulled her head down, and kissed her cheek. "You go right ahead, darlin'. I don't care if I don't see you for a week."
Phillip reached past Leah and clapped Sarah on the shoulder. "Looks like we'll have a deed transfer to take care of. I couldn't be happier, Sarah." He looked toward Faith. "I'm happy for you, too, Faith."
"Thank you, Phillip, Leah. You keep showing me why Sarah loves you both so much."
"Come on." Sarah gave Faith's hand another tug. "I want to catch Schmidt before he leaves."
They reached the front of the room just as a group who had surrounded Schmidt had dispersed. Sarah held out her hand and Schmidt shook it. "Thanks, Sheriff. We owe you a debt of gratitude."
"I only did what I thought was right, Miss Sarah. Morton Blanton made this town turn against you, and I knew most folks wouldn't have if given the right information. We have a pretty good bunch of people in this town."
Faith shook his hand, too. "You did a wonderful job with your talk. Thank you."
"Yes," Sarah said in a teasing tone, "I've hardly heard ten words from you before. I didn't know you had it in you."
Schmidt leaned closer and dropped his voice. "I got outstanding grades in Rhetoric class at school. First time I've had a chance to use all I learned." The three of them chuckled together.
"We'll never forget this, Sheriff," Sarah said. She looked at Faith, and a silent signal passed between them. "Right now, we want to go home. Together."
"You do that." He shook hands with them once more.
"Thanks again," Faith said, and they left.
Faith moved through the door ahead of Sarah. She hung her bonnet and coat on the rack, walked to the kitchen table, and turned up the wick on the oil lamp Benjamin had left burning for her return.
"Do you want some tea?" she asked Sarah and gestured for her to sit down. "I'm parched."
"Sounds good." Sarah hung her hat and jacket next to the bonnet. She waited for Faith to wash her hands at the sink pump then took her turn. While Faith stirred the coals in the stove and filled the kettle, Sarah set out the cups, saucers, and spoons. Faith placed the kettle on the stove and collected the sugar bowl.
"Do you want anything to eat?" she asked.
"Not yet," Sarah said with a mischievous grin.
Faith poked her in the arm. "Sit down and behave yourself. Time for play later."
They sat cattycorner to each other at the small table. "Where's Paddy?" Sarah asked.
"He sleeps in Benjamin's room. I heard a short bark when I came in, but he must have recognized us and quieted down."
Sarah reached for Faith's hand and brought it to her lips. "I have to take care of the horses," she said and gave Faith's hand a squeeze.
"Go ahead. I'll fix your tea. By the time the kettle boils and the tea gets fixed, you'll be finished and can relax."
"All right, then." Sarah squeezed Faith's hand once more, stood, and left.
Ten minutes later, she was back. Faith cocked her head. "You must have set some kind of record."
"Maybe so." Sarah grinned and washed her hands once again. She tugged one of Faith's curls as she passed her on the way to sit down. "I had good reason to hurry."
They both quickly and silently drank their tea.
Afterward, Faith lifted Sarah's hand and slowly outlined it with her index finger. "I can hardly believe everything that's happened. First, it was all bad, and now it's all good." She placed Sarah's hand back on the table and looked down. "I know I caused you a lot of grief and anger. I'll always feel guilty about that."
Sarah put two fingers under Faith's chin and lifted it up. "Look at me," she said softly. When Faith's gaze met hers, Sarah lowered her hand and said, "Part of that was my own fault. It took me awhile to grasp that Benjamin's still a boy, and as his mother, you had a fierce need to protect him. You tried to tell me that, but instead of understanding, I withdrew inside myself and stomped off."
"And I got mixed up with Joel Litchfield." She rubbed Sarah's forearm and gazed into her eyes, remorse showing on her face. "I'm sorry. It took me awhile to grasp that my misplaced fondness for him couldn't come anywhere near my love for you." She hesitated. "There's something I forgot to tell you. Joel said he overheard some men threaten to kill you if you didn't stay away from me."
"And you believed him? He was probably just trying to keep us apart."
"I realize that now. At the time, all I could think of was getting you out of town."
"Ah, yes. I was puzzled—and distressed—when you looked relieved that I was leaving."
"One more way I hurt you. I truly didn't mean to."
Sarah took a deep breath then changed her mind about what she was going to say. "Let's forget about the past. It's not important anymore. What's important is now and the future." She slowed the hand that continued to rub her arm. Keeping hold of it, she said, "If we ever get sidetracked again, if our thoughts or desires veer off in different directions, let's give ourselves time to cool off and then discuss it. We're a team, a couple, and I want us to stay that way. Forever."
Looking serious, Faith nodded. Then her lips curled into a smile that made Sarah's heart lurch.
"I'm sure, of course," Faith said, "that we'll never ever clash again."
"You are so right, redhead," Sarah said in a joking tone, and they both chuckled. Sarah turned down the lamp, stood, and pulled Faith up into a kiss. When they stopped, breathless, Sarah said, "Right now, I'll settle for our desires not clashing." She loosened her embrace, guided Faith's arm into hers, and led her to the bedroom.
About the Author
A professional editor for many years, Nann Dunne began writing fiction in 1996. She has a number of published novels and short stories, her latest novel being "The Clash Between the Minds," the sequel to "The War Between the Hearts."
She publishes a free ezine on the craft of writing called "Just About Write" (JAW) at http://www.JustAboutWrite.com that includes articles on writing, editing, and promotion, as well as reviews, new releases, poetry, humor, featured authors, and publisher announcements. Because of her work with Just About Write, the Golden Crown Literary Society presented Nann with the coveted 2008 Directors' Award in recognition of her "outstanding contribution to lesbian literature."