A Lady Like Sarah

by Margaret Brownley

  George motioned to Jed with a toss of his head, and the two of them picked up their saddles and headed for the horses. Robert stayed behind and waited until he was alone with Sarah.

  "It's not too late, sis," he said earnestly. "You can change your name. Move to the city. Find yourself a good man,"

  She squeezed Robert's arm. She always felt closest to Robert, who was only two years older. George showed her how to fish and shoot, but it was Robert who taught her to read and write.

  "What would a good man want with the likes of me?"

  "I'm serious, Sarah. Do you ever think about what life would be like if we didn't belong to the Prescott family?"

  "I think about it," she said truthfully. "I think about it as often as a goose goes barefoot. But thinkin' don't make it so. We are who we are, and ain't nothin' goin' to change that."

  Jed called to her. "Ready, Sarah?"

  "Be there in a minute," Sarah called back.

  She was painfully aware that Justin stood a short distance away, staring at her, a world of emotions in his eyes.

  It hurt to think she might never see him again, hurt more than she ever thought possible. A lump rose in her throat, and she closed her eyes so as not to look at him. If she did, she feared that propriety wouldn't have a chance against the overwhelming need to feel his lips on hers once again before she left, this time for good.

  "I guess this is . . . good-bye," she said.

  He took a step toward her. "Sarah—"

  She wheeled around and started toward the horses, but some invisible force prevented her from moving more than a few feet away. Feeling her defenses desert her, she turned. "I can't go," she said, her voice low. "I can't leave you alone with Elizabeth."

  He gave her a worried frown. "Are you ready to return to Rocky Creek?" he asked. "To put your fate in God's hands?"

  "I ain't meanin' to do that," she said. "I'll just stay with you till the Red River. After that, you're on your own."

  He shook his head, but before he could protest, she hastened to add, "I know the territory. I can get you through the Nation safely. If you wander too far away from the reservations, you'll be in more trouble than a Texas twister."

  His eyes dark with appeal, he moved toward her and laid his hand on her cheek. "If you stay with me, you risk getting caught."

  His touch sent tingles down her spine, but it was the concern on his face that made her heart swell. She reached up to place a hand on top of his.

  "We have to think 'bout what's best for Elizabeth."

  She saw the pain in his eyes, the indecision. He drew his hand away and turned to gaze at Elizabeth, who lay on her back, her little legs and arms in constant motion.

  "It won't be easy," he conceded. "I never milked anything, much less a goat, in my life, but I'll learn. I won't let anything happen to her. You have my solemn word."

  "It ain't easy feedin' her," she persisted. "You ain't got a rat's chance in a hawk's nest of managin' on your own."

  "I. . ." The eyes that had moments earlier showered her with tenderness now implored her. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

  "It won't," she said.

  "You don't know that."

  "Maybe not," she admitted. "But I druther take my chances with you than watch my brothers rob another stage." There, she said it. She loved her brothers, would always love them, but she no longer wanted to stay with them.

  Some, if not all, of his objections seemed to melt from his face. "I don't want you with them either. I only wish there was something I could say or do to make them give up their ways."

  "I don't think there's anythin' anyone can say to make them change their ways," she said. "Let me stay with you, Justin. Just for a while."

  "If you're sure . . ."

  She lifted her chin. "Seems like I'm more sure than you."

  A shadow of indecision crossed his forehead. "I want you with me, you have to know that. Not just for Elizabeth's sake, but. . . for my sake as well. It's just—"

  She searched his face, certain he was about to break her heart by making her go with her brothers. "What?"

  "I'm a preacher."

  She tilted her head to the side. "I ain't likely to forget that."

  "The problem is . . . I'm afraid I might forget."

  Startled, she blinked, afraid to believe what she heard in his voice, saw in his eyes, felt in her heart. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? A man of God? A man whom she suddenly realized she trusted with her life? Was such a thing even possible?

  When at last she found her voice, she asked, "You talkin' about that man and woman stuff?"

  He didn't answer her. Didn't need to. His tormented face told her all she needed to know. Instead, he stared at the fire as if waiting for the dying embers to consume any improper feelings that might have passed between them.

  She took a step toward him, but he stiffened and the all- too-familiar mask of denial fell firmly in place. "You ain't never gonna forget," she said. She didn't know how she knew this, she just did. Just to be on the safe side, she added, "I ain't never gonna let you forget."

  God had saved Elizabeth, He did, and she wasn't about to do anything to displease Him. She would keep a clamp on any untoward musings. No more thinking about manly things or womanly things, and especially not man and woman together things. From now on, she would be as virtuous as an old school marm. Even if it killed her.

  His gaze held hers for a moment as if to determine the sincerity of her promise. After a moment, they both looked away.

  Sarah stared at the ground. "Well, have we got a deal or ain't we?"

  "And what kind of deal is that?" George asked, from behind her.

  Bracing herself with a deep breath, she turned to face her older brother. She'd done her share of rebelling over the years, but she'd never really stood up to him. Not even Robert and Jed had managed that.

  Her brother was quick to pick up a weakness. If she showed the least bit of hesitation, she wouldn't have a hare's chance against a fox of getting her own way.

  She straightened her shoulders in an effort to gain confidence. Refusing to look at Justin, she said, "I ain't goin' with you."

  Thirteen

  For the longest while, no one moved. Even Elizabeth seemed to sense the tension in the air and stared at them with unflinching eyes.

  George impaled Sarah with a steely look and, though her knees felt weak, she matched his demeanor. When she didn't back down, he wagged his finger in her face.

  George spit out a stream of tobacco. "I've had enough of you and your wild ways, Sarah. Every time you strike out on your own you get yourself in trouble. From here on in, you're stayin' with the family—and there ain't gonna be no argument."

  Jed nodded. "Family sticks together no matter what."

  Sarah stood her ground. "I told you, I ain't goin' with you. I promised Justin."

  George's eyes blazed with anger. "You'll do what I say or—"

  "Back off," Robert said, quietly, his thumbs looped around his suspenders.

  George spun around and thrust a finger in Robert's face. "No, you back off. Sarah's life is in danger, and we're the only ones who can protect her."

  Sarah's temper flared. She was tired of her brothers acting like she didn't have a brain in her head. "You know full well I can take care of myself."

  "You ain't done a very good job of it," George bellowed back. "Otherwise there wouldn't be a noose in Texas with your name on it."

  "It wouldn't have my name on it if you weren't so determined on rightin' a wrong done sixteen years ago."

  George's jaw dropped. "Are you sayin' we're supposed to forget what they did to our parents? Is that how you want to honor their memory?"

  "This ain't about our parents," she said with sudden insight. All these years, she'd believed that whatever George said was true. Now she questioned his motives, questioned even their right to lash out at society for the wrongs committed by a misguided
few. Where was the honor in that?

  "This is about what we've done to ourselves," she said. "We're oudaws, George. And that's how we're gonna die if we don't—"

  "You don't know what you're talkin' about." He stabbed his chest with his thumb. "I'm the one who makes the decisions around here. Not you. Not Robert. Not anyone else. Me! Now get your backside on your horse, and—"

  Arms crossed in front, she lifted her chin and boldly met his eyes. "I told you, George. I ain't goin'."

  Grabbing her by the shoulder, George's nostrils flared with fury. "I said, get on that horse!"

  "Leave her alone!"

  At the sound of Justin's voice, George released her, the veins in his neck bulging. "This ain't your business, preacher. This is a family matter."

  "And I believe the matter has been settled. The lady said she's not going."

  Making a fist, George swung around to face the preacher. Sarah gasped, but George caught himself just in time. He slammed his fist into his palm before dropping his clenched hands to his side. He offered no apology. Instead, he glared at Justin, his face red with rage.

  "So help me God, if you weren't a preacher—"

  Justin nodded. "I understand your frustration." He pressed his own fist into his hand. "If you weren't Sarah's brother—"

  Jed laughed out loud, and George glowered at him before turning back to Sarah.

  "Please, George," she pleaded. "Soon as I know the baby's safe, I'll. . . I'll catch up to you." It pained her to make such a promise, but the truth was she didn't know what else to do. The few times she'd struck out on her own, she'd failed. A single woman with no formal education and a rope hanging over her head had no future except with her brothers. "It will just be for a short time. I promise."

  "No!"

  Toe to toe and practically nose to nose, she and George continued to argue, each trying to outshout the other. Robert and Jed watched with slackened jaws. Justin picked up Elizabeth and moved her out of earshot.

  Not knowing where she got the strength or courage to stand up to her brother's obstinate ways, she wore him down with sheer determination.

  "Drats, Sarah, when did you get to be so stubborn!"

  "I reckon I take after you," she shouted back.

  George appeared conflicted, but at least the obstinate scowl had left his face. He rubbed his chin and fumbled with his tobacco pouch. A man used to giving orders and having them obeyed was clearly out of his element.

  "I don't like leaving you. It's dangerous. A woman alone . . ."

  He waved his hand toward the overturned wagons in the distance. "You saw what can happen."

  "I'll be careful."

  "Careful?" He mouth twisted in mock laughter. "When have you ever been careful? You wouldn't be in this mess if you'd been careful and done what I told you. Have you even got a weapon?"

  She nodded and reached into the waist of her pants, fumbling as she drew out the six-shooter.

  George's scowl grew more menacing. "You better be a lot quicker on the draw than that." He called over to Jed. "Give her your gun belt."

  Jed protested with a shake of his head. "Ah, come on, George. What am I gonna use?"

  "I'll get you another." To Sarah, he said, "Meet us in Fort Smith." He pointed a finger. "If you know what's good for you, you'll be there."

  She gaped at him. Fort Smith, Arkansas? Home of the famous hanging judge? She wouldn't have been more surprised had George told her to meet him at the Rocky Creek gallows. Judge Parker's relentless determination to hang every outlaw in his jurisdiction was enough to make her want to run in the opposite direction.

  "Are you serious?" she gasped.

  George stiffened at the question. "The last place the law will look is under its very own nose," he said curtly.

  "I told you, I ain't leavin' that baby till I know she's safe."

  Justin moved to her side. "Sarah, I can take the train from Fort Smith to Texarkana. From there, I'll catch the stage to Rocky Creek."

  "Is that what you want to do?"

  "I don't have much choice, do I? I've got to do what's best for the baby, and right now, the faster I can get to Rocky Creek, the sooner I can find a proper home for her."

  She nodded, but her heart wasn't in it. As much as she detested the idea of traveling to Judge Parker's territory, the thought of saying good-bye to Justin left her feeling bereft and desolate.

  A satisfied look crossed George's face. "You'll be okay till we get there, providing you lay low. Stay at the Ferris Hotel. You know how to check in. Don't show your face." His voice hardened. "I mean it, Sarah!"

  "I ain't doin' nothin' but what you say," she said.

  George's eyebrows quirked upward. "I guess there's a first for everythin'." His voice softened. "You should be able to reach Fort Smith in two, maybe three days."

  "It'll take us longer 'cuz of the baby."

  George scowled and she braced for another argument, but instead he issued a list of instructions about which trails to avoid. "It'll probably be closer to a week before we get there. You just lay low and wait for us, you hear?"

  "I said I would."

  "You take care, Sarah. If anythin' happens to you—"

  "It won't." She threw her arms around his neck, knocking him off balance.

  He hugged her back, then mounted his horse. Astride, he stared at her, his mouth tight with disapproval. "Stay out of trouble."

  "I will," she promised.

  "I mean it, Sarah." George leveled a warning glance at Justin. "I better not live to regret this. I hope none of us do."

  With one last lingering look at her, George galloped away.

  Robert shoved a wad of money into her hand.

  "I can't take that," she said, handing it back. "It's not our money. It's stolen."

  He studied her, a look of sadness in his eyes. He nodded but, nonetheless, pressed the money into her palm. "Take it for the baby's sake," he said, nodding toward Elizabeth asleep on a bedroll. He winked at her. "A well-placed bribe can get you—and your little orphan—out of a heap of trouble."

  Forcing a smile, she tucked the money into her pocket. He was right; it might come in handy at that.

  Robert pecked her on the cheek and mounted his own horse, touching a finger to the brim of his hat. "Good luck, Sarah."

  Jed handed her his holster and gave her a big hug. "Take care, you hear?"

  She nodded. "See you soon." Her spirits sank as she watched the three men gallop away. "I love you all," she called after them, waving until they were mere specks in the distance.

  Justin put a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for staying," he said, his voice low.

  She turned to face him, soaking up the warmth of his eyes like flowers in the sun. "They raised me. Taught me everything I know," she said, her voice hoarse. "I love my brothers. I know what they do ain't right."

  "Forcing you to be part of that is also not right."

  "I never actually robbed a stage," she said. "George said I was a girl and girls have no business on the front lines. He told us we were only takin' what was ours." Her voice broke. "We believed him. I believed him."

  "You were a child when your parents died," he said simply. "You had no choice but to believe what he told you."

  She bit her lip, determined to hold back her tears. She loved her brothers with all her heart, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to defend them, even to herself. Still, old habits die hard, and though she hated what her family had become, she couldn't bring herself to turn her back on them. Not completely.

  "My brothers, they would do anything. . . anything in the world for me." Feeling at once embarrassed and ashamed, she lowered her lashes. "All these years they've cared for me and protected me."

  He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Sarah." The touch of his fingers sent warm shivers coursing through her. "You have no idea what it means to be cared for," he said, his eyes soft. "Or protected."

  Something in his voice
, in the way he made her tingle when he said her name, in the way he gazed at her, found a need so deeply buried that she hardly knew it existed.

  She rested her head on his chest, dizzy with the scent of him. Suddenly—inexplicably—she found herself sobbing. Hot tears spread across the bib of his shirt in a widening circle.

  She cried for the little girl who had lost her parents and who, at the time, had not been able to shed a tear. She cried for her brothers whom she feared she would never see again. She cried for the past she despised and the future she dreaded.

  But most of all, she cried because she was twenty-two years of age—an old maid by some accounts—and she had never before been held like Justin was now holding her.

  Fourteen

  They traveled across the southeast corner of Kansas and into Indian territory, the boundaries dotted with government signs. It was now June, and the farther south they traveled, the hotter it got. Sarah's clothes clung to her body, and rivers of sweat trickled down her face. Despite the difficulties of travel, she was greatly relieved to leave the horrors of the wagon train behind.

  Justin carried Elizabeth in a sling made from one of his shirts. Tied around his neck, the carrier cradled the baby next to his chest. This left his hands free to hold the reins. From time to time, he waved a kerchief up and down to fan the child.

  He preferred carrying the baby to dealing with the goat, and Sarah let him. At times, it was a battle to get Mira to do what she wanted the goat to do, but she was better at it than Justin.

  Elizabeth grew fussy, and Sarah was convinced it was because Mira's milk supply had dropped. She stroked the goat's side, trying to get it to relax. "I think Mira's plumb worn out from all the walkin'."

  "Let's try strapping the goat onto your horse," Justin suggested.

  "She ain't gonna like that much."

  Justin lifted Mira by her front legs and Sarah grabbed the back, but it was all they could do to hold on to the struggling animal. They finally managed to force the goat on top of Blizzard, belly-down in front of the saddle. Forelegs dangling on one side, back legs down the other, Mira's bleats turned into high-pitched screams.