Cassandra Austin

by Trusting Sarah

  Sarah was about to collapse. Her breath came in lung-burning sobs, but still she tried to pull away from him. She wanted to run and run and never stop. Finally, she realized how fruitless her struggles were and let him pull her against his chest.

  “Damn, Sarah!” He took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to lower his voice. “You scared me.” He smoothed her hair away from her face, soothed the racing pulse at her temple. “There’s no reason to run.”

  Sarah felt the strength begin to return to her legs, only to have them turn to jelly as he continued to caress her. She wanted to surrender to the solace of his arms, to forget there was a damning past and an uncertain future, to pretend there was only here and now. For a moment, she told herself. Only for a moment.

  River felt her relax against him and wondered at her reaction. She never did what he expected. He often scolded himself for thinking he could ever understand her, but it was difficult not to wonder when she constantly surprised him. And equally impossible not to be affected by her body in his arms.

  “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said finally. “I just wanted to warn you that Eli knows. He won’t cause you any trouble.”

  She reluctantly pulled away but refused to meet his gaze. “How do you know?” she whispered.

  River took a step backward, telling himself he was glad the contact was broken. The fact that he wanted to pull her against him again made him angry. He didn’t want her to feel so good in his arms. He tried to hide the unwelcome feeling in resentment toward Eli. His voice was rough when he answered. “The crazy old fool has decided it’s my fault.”

  Sarah looked at him in disbelief. Eli had disliked her from the moment Milburn had hired her. Surely River had misunderstood.

  River watched the brown eyes widen. She looked absolutely innocent. He tried to search her face for any sign of duplicity but recognized the danger in gazing at her for too long. He took her arm and propelled her across the prairie. “Let’s get back to the wagon before somebody steals it.”

  Sarah hurried along beside him, trying to figure out what had happened. One moment she was in his arms, hiding from an uncertain future, the next moment he was telling her nothing had changed and dragging her back to the wagon. The old Sarah in her wanted to remind him he had no reason to be angry with her. She had no influence over Eli. One look at his stony profile convinced her to keep her thoughts to herself.

  The ride back to the camp was passed in silence, each of them remembering the brief embrace and neither daring more than a glance at the other. As they neared the circle of wagons, River noticed the Reverend Fleenor watching them. He looked at Sarah, but her attention was on Rice, walking with the von Schiller girls.

  When he had brought the wagon into line behind Eli’s, he looked again for Fleenor, but he was no longer in sight. He tried to brush away the odd sense of foreboding that had started when he saw the reverend watching them.

  Sarah touched his arm, making him jump. “I should have known Eli would guess,” she said softly.

  River looked at her and was caught in the deep brown eyes. “I guess I should have tried to deny it.”

  “No. I don’t want you to lie to your friend for me. I’m sorry he blames you,” she went on. “I’ll try to explain.”

  It struck River that he could easily fall under her spell again. The thought was both infuriating and frighteningly appealing. He pulled his eyes away. “Don’t bother,” he said, and climbed quickly from the wagon. He turned to help Sarah, dreading the electricity the slight contact was bound to cause. As soon as her feet were safely on the ground, he stepped away from her. I don’t know why I let Fleenor trouble me, he thought as he unhitched the team. Sarah’s the one I need to worry about.

  * * *

  A voice behind Sarah made her jump. “I was hoping I would find you alone.”

  She had walked to the river intending to do the laundry, but the dust kicked up by so many wagons and stock made her wonder what she hoped to gain. She had tried to concentrate on the task, blocking out all thoughts of the future or of River, and had even less success with her mind than she had with the clothes.

  She turned now to discover the Reverend Fleenor standing behind her. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he offered, removing his broad-brimmed hat. “I would like a word with you but Mr...” He waved his hat toward the wagons. “Mr., uh, Eli... well...”

  Sarah nodded her understanding as she came to her feet. She told herself to relax. The reverend had always seemed friendly, but she couldn’t stop her heart from pounding.

  “Have you repented, Miss Tanton?” He didn’t wait for an answer but plunged on. “Whatever sin you committed, God is ready to forgive you.”

  Sarah swallowed hard before she found her voice. “What sin are you talking about, Reverend?”

  “That’s between you and God.”

  “Then isn’t repentance, as well?”

  Fleenor’s fingers began to work their way around the hat brim. “Of course, Miss Tanton. But sometimes we need someone to help us along the road to salvation.”

  “Why, specifically, do you think I need help?” She held her breath. Say you’ve noticed I don’t attend your services. Say you’re calling on all the members of the train.

  “Miss Tanton, I don’t want to betray a confidence, but I’ve been told you served time in prison.”

  Sarah felt the world spin for a second but steeled herself. She was determined not to let his words destroy her; she had already panicked once today. “You haven’t asked me if it’s true. You haven’t asked if I was guilty.”

  The reverend’s voice was soft. “Is it true, Miss Tanton?”

  Sarah straightened her back and tried for a confidence she didn’t feel. “Yes, it’s true. But I was not guilty.”

  “But you were being punished for something. Otherwise, the Lord would have prevented it.” At Sarah’s startled look, he tried to explain. “The Lord does nothing without a reason. At the very least He wants you to learn something.”

  Sarah tried not to let this opinion bother her. But she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if he was right. Had God meant for her to go to prison? And who on the train had told the reverend? It was more than she could sort through while her mind was screaming, Everyone knows! Everyone knows!

  As she tried to retreat to her laundry, he caught her arm. “Please understand, Miss Tanton, decent people on this train will want you to leave. If I can assure them that you have repented and been forgiven...”

  “I suggest you leave her alone.”

  Sarah jumped again, this time with instant recognition. “Daniel,” she whispered.

  The reverend nodded. “Of course, sir. I was only...”

  “Nice day for a stroll, huh, Reverend? But Sarah has work to do.”

  “Of course. Mind what I’ve said, Miss Tanton.” He placed his hat on his head and nodded to River, then turned to walk toward the train.

  Sarah whirled away and resumed her washing. River watched her kneel on the bank for a full minute before he asked, “What did he say?”

  “That someone told him I’ve been in prison.” She scrubbed at a shirtsleeve more vigorously than it deserved.

  “Not Eli.”

  Sarah gave a humorless laugh. “No, I don’t think Eli would run to the reverend.”

  River studied the tense shoulders as he tried to think. “Someone must have overheard,” he suggested.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. We don’t exactly have thick walls around here.”

  River was getting tired of talking to her back. He let himself ignore what she was suggesting, that he should have known there was a chance of being overheard. “Now look,” River said, kneeling beside her. “This isn’t my fault. I didn’t tell Eli anything.”

  Sarah’s hands stilled on the garment. She turned slowly to look at him. “I know,” she whispered.

  River watched her profile as she went back to work. She was becoming quite good at keeping emotions from sh
owing on her face. If he didn’t know better, it would be easy to believe her only interest was the small stain on the sleeve of that shirt.

  After a moment he rose to his feet and walked away. He had work to do, and he ought to dismiss her as easily as she dismissed him. Only he couldn’t. As he made the rounds, he found himself thinking about Sarah, her flight across the prairie and her strange reaction at the stream. The Sarah he remembered would have laughed in their faces, and his.

  He decided it was not a good idea to think about that Sarah. It brought back too many memories, not all of them pleasant.

  Chapter Seven

  A couple of hours after leaving Sarah, River approached the Carroll and Ortman camp. With a glance around the circle, he realized he had left it until last. Natural desire to forget it entirely, he thought.

  Prudence Carroll was viciously attacking a potato when she noticed him. She put down the potato and rolled the knife handle in her hand as she scowled at him. He tipped his hat and tried to give her a cheerful greeting, but she interrupted. “I sent my husband to talk to you,” she informed him.

  “Is that right? I must have missed him. I’ve been around seeing if folks have any problems.”

  “We most certainly do have a problem.” She came to her feet, wiping her hands and the knife blade on her soiled apron. “You must do something about that Tanton woman.”

  River let a smile spread across his face, but his eyes remained cold. “What did you have in mind, ma’am?”

  Prudence glared at him. “I want her off the train,” she stated. “I let the good reverend persuade me to wait until he talked to her before I informed the rest of the train of her abominable reputation.”

  “Abominable?” River quirked an eyebrow at her, trying not to let his rising anger show.

  She shook the knife at him. “The woman’s a convict! Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, either. Ernest got it from your own lips!”

  “From behind my back. Ernest eavesdropped, Mrs. Carroll.” So it was Ernest. He should have guessed.

  “No matter. Doesn’t change the facts.” She tipped her chin a good inch higher.

  River’s eyes narrowed. “Sarah’s past is her own business.”

  Prudence inhaled sharply. “There are decent folks on this train!”

  “I’m sure there are, and if any of them hear about it, they’ll most likely ignore it.”

  Prudence opened her mouth to speak, but River, completely fed up with the woman, turned on his heel and strode away.

  * * *

  Sarah felt numb. If only she could convince herself it didn’t matter; what other people knew or didn’t know had nothing to do with who she was. But it did matter. Some of these people were her friends, and they might not remain so. Rice, Martha, even Eli. It hurt to think how they would look at her now.

  She finished the laundry and gathered the wet clothes into a bundle, barely aware of what she was doing. The reverend had her so confused even the comfort she had taken in her own innocence deserted her. She hadn’t committed the crime she had paid for, but she wasn’t totally innocent, either. She and Daniel had shared a rather wild youth. She could well imagine herself being punished for other things.

  Color rose to her cheeks as she thought about it. She had been Daniel’s lover without benefit of marriage; by most everyone’s standards, that made her as bad as the reverend said. In fact, some would see it as worse than robbery.

  Her feet carried her toward the wagons without any help from her brain. She was aware of a sense of alienation, made more painful because she had begun to think of that circle of nine wagons as home.

  She hung the clothes over the line between Eli’s wagons and tried to pretend she would never have to speak to anyone again. Silence, just like prison, she thought with a shudder. She immediately withdrew the wish.

  Soon the laundry was hung up to dry, and she ducked beneath it to enter the circle. Eli and Dr. Carroll were sitting near the fire, sharing a pot of coffee. “Fetch a cup, and come join us, Sarie,” Eli called.

  Sarah considered facing whatever the men had to say to her without the stimulant, but her hands were cold from the washing, and the warm cup would give her a little comfort. She went to the back of the lead wagon and, with cup in hand, stepped to the fire. Dr. Carroll rose to pour her coffee, and they indicated a seat between them.

  “Doc here’s got a theory,” Eli said. “Sounds a bit peculiar, but it might be worth a try.”

  Dr. Carroll leaned toward Sarah. “I don’t want to alarm you, Miss Tanton, but I’m sure you’ve already heard of cholera.”

  Sarah straightened in surprise. This was not the subject she had expected them to be discussing.

  Eli misunderstood her reaction. “We ain’t got no case of it, Sarie. We was just talkin’ on it.”

  “Back home we’d heard how cholera takes so many travelers, and Eli has seen cases himself,” the doctor continued. “I’ve been reading all I can find on the subject, and several sources, including army surgeons, have advocated boiling all drinking water.”

  Sarah looked from one man to the other, and Dr. Carroll explained quickly, “I can see you’re skeptical, but, as I understand it, it works like this. When the water is boiled, the toxic substances rise to the top and can be skimmed off or strained away through a cloth.” He waited for Sarah’s reaction, clearly hoping for an encouraging one.

  “Kills the bug, too,” Eli added cheerfully.

  Sarah looked from one to the other and didn’t know what to say. Disease on the trail had been something she had tried not to think about. She didn’t see how her opinion would matter to either of these men, anyway. Finally she echoed Eli’s words. “It’s worth a try.”

  The doctor smiled at her acceptance. Thanking Eli for the coffee, he rose to his feet. He murmured a goodbye to Sarah before walking away.

  “Nice sort,” Eli said.

  Sarah turned cautiously to look at him, wondering if he had been waiting for the doctor to leave before bringing up the subject uppermost in her mind. Instead he stretched and said, “I reckon it’s time to start supper.”

  * * *

  River was still fuming from his encounter with Prudence Carroll when he saw her husband leave Eli’s fire. He couldn’t help but worry what the man might have said to Sarah. The doctor hurried toward him and, signaling for quiet, motioned for River to follow him out of the circle.

  River didn’t bother to hide his irritation. “Your wife said you wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yes,” Carroll began. “I wanted to warn you for the young lady’s sake. The wife’s got a bee in her bonnet, you might say.”

  “So I understand.”

  Carroll looked at the younger man and sighed. “I can see you know all about it. It will be hard for the lady, but eventually Prudence will find something else to interest her.”

  River gaped at the doctor. “Your wife wants Sarah thrown off the train!”

  “But if you and Eli support Miss Tanton, there’s not much Prudence can do even if she gets some others behind her.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to just curb your wife?”

  The doctor looked taken aback by River’s temper. “Well—no,” he said finally. “You can’t really blame Prudence. It was the way she was brought up, you understand. She and all her family are pretty secure in the knowledge that they are right.”

  “Then tell her she’s wrong!” River strode back to the wagons. He knew that venting his anger on the doctor was an effort to deny his own responsibility for the situation.

  Just before he reached his camp, he stopped to watch Sarah. It was hard to tell what she was feeling. She worked the same as she always did, quietly and efficiently. His conscience urged him to go to her, but he wouldn’t know what to say. He clenched his fists in frustration then shoved them into the pockets of his jacket.

  One pocket wasn’t empty. He pulled out a small paper-wrapped parcel and stared at it a moment before recognition dawned. H
e had bought this on a whim at the Hollenberg Ranch and had forgotten it.

  He unwrapped it now to reveal a length of bright red ribbon. He fingered the satin surface, remembering how foolish he had felt after he bought it. But then, as now, he had pictured the ribbon in Sarah’s chestnut hair and remembered how her eyes used to sparkle at every gift he gave her.

  The memory of a special gift intruded. Sarah sat in the middle of the bed, laughing with delight. She was dressed only in her chemise, petticoats and corset. A very charming outfit, he recalled. Her hair tumbled freely around her shoulders, catching the lamplight. He stood and watched as she opened the box, flinging the paper aside impatiently. He could still hear her soft gasp of surprise before she turned her smile on him. “Red, Daniel?” she teased.

  “Of course.”

  She scrambled off the bed and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek. “You’re so sweet to me, Daniel,” she whispered, before returning to the gift and lifting it out of the box. A bright red dancing dress.

  The red dress.

  He quickly rewrapped the ribbon and tucked it into his pocket. He had far too many memories of Sarah. Why he even thought of giving her gifts was more than he could understand. She wouldn’t want them anyway, not from him.

  * * *

  To Sarah, it felt like the calm before the storm. Eli moved about the fire with less conversation than usual, failing to criticize even her most awkward cooking techniques. River joined them, took a bridle from his gear and began to mend it without speaking to either of them.

  The fish on the spit were nearly ready, and Sarah had begun to relax, when Rice hurried into camp.

  “Is it true, Miss Sarah?”

  Sarah looked up from the potatoes she was testing. She didn’t need to ask what he was talking about.

  “The old bat didn’t waste any time,” River said, laying the bridle aside and coming to his feet. He had some thought of moving close to Sarah to offer his support before he stopped himself.