“What is that?” Sam asked, finding the silence very uncomfortable.
“Mostly dried garlic, crushed fine, and a few wild herbs.”
As she replaced the quilt over him, he quickly grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. Immediately her reaction was to go very stiff, the colour seemed to drain quickly from her face. It wasn’t what he had expected as he thought she would fight desperately against him.
“Thank you, Sara,” he said. When she finally looked at his face, her eyes showed terror.
“You’re welcome,” she answered as he released his hold. “I better get the biscuits before they burn,” she said as she turned away. He didn’t see the tear run down over her cheek.
She removed the lightly-browned baking from the oven and placed the pan on the table, again using the towel to guard against the heat. The eggs were broken into a warmed cast-iron frying pan that a small amount of lard had already been added to and they immediately started to sizzle. She didn’t turn to her patient when she asked, “How do you like your eggs?” Her voice trembled a little.
“Any way is fine. Do you think I can sit at the table for breakfast?” he asked. He hoped he could make a quick recovery and leave as soon as possible.
“You can give it a try and see how you feel.” She also hoped this man would soon be on his way back to town and out of her life. “Give me a minute to finish the eggs and I’ll help you.”
Sam sat at the table and despite the fact the breakfast was set in front of him, he waited for Sara.
She filled his cup with the coffee that sent a refreshing aroma into the air and placed a sugar bowl with barely more than a spoonful of brown sugar, beside it. Cautiously, Sara took her place across the table, still not looking at him.
“I’m sorry there is no butter or cream. We lost our only cow in a barn fire this past spring.”
He started to speak but an alarmed expression crossed Sara’s face. She jumped up from her chair and quickly looked out the south window. With a worried glance back at Sam, she grabbed her shawl and disappeared into the next room, quietly closing the door.
It took a moment, but Sam heard the sound of a horse galloping up to the house. He quickly reached for his gun under the pillow. From outside, a man’s voice could be heard as it called Sam’s name and he realized it was someone who worked for him in the town.
“I’m in here,” he shouted back.
The door opened and a man, so tall he had to duck his head, came inside. He cautiously peered around the room as he entered. Eric Hunter, one of Sam’s henchmen, gun in hand, was prepared for anything. He was quite relieved to see the man he had searched for and offered his boss a grin that displayed his tobacco-stained teeth and missing front tooth. Several days’ hair growth covered his face and his clothing appeared rather shabby.
As it was obvious Sam couldn’t ride a horse, Eric stayed only long enough to make sure his boss was safe and returned to Brandon to get a buckboard. A wagon wouldn’t be very comfortable either, but it was important he get back to town.
Sam wondered where Sara had disappeared to as he continued eating his breakfast. He was surprised when shortly after the unexpected visitor left she returned through the front door. Not many farm homes built in the 1870’s would have had a front and back door. He was fairly certain she would not climb through a window in her condition. She was very quiet, and obviously very scared of the man who had just left, or maybe any stranger, he thought.
She brought the pot to the table from the stove and started to refill Sam’s cup to warm the coffee that had gone cold, but her hand shook uncontrollably. He took the pot from her and set it down. He tried to look into her eyes, but still she avoided looking back. She watched only her own hand as she reached to take his empty plate. Sam put his hand over hers, more gently this time.
“Sit for a moment, you look a little pale.” He let his hand linger over hers and felt it tremble, but slowly she pulled away.
She did sit and said, “I’m really not used to having strangers around.”
“You’ll be happy to hear Eric is coming back this afternoon with a wagon to take me home.” He gave her a small smile.
Even though she didn’t return the expression, she was happy to hear her unexpected patient would leave that day. In a small way she liked the company of a person there again. It had been a long time.
It would be a couple of hours until Eric’s return and the time was spent quietly as Sam was still very tired. The willow bark tea helped him to relax as it was remarkable how well it worked at taking the pain away. He felt somewhat at ease in his hiding place. Sara tried to mend his trousers as best she could. She sewed on a patch with one of the needles she used to doctor his wound. Even though the fabric didn't match, she felt the patch would do until he arrived home. The material in the pants was very soft and she knew that only a wealthy man could afford them.
After an hour and a half passed, Sara helped Sam dress and prepare for his ride home. She supplied him with extra garlic powder and willow bark tea, saying, “The doctor probably won’t approve of these, but you’ll find how well they will work.”
When the sound of a team of horses could be heard in the distance, Sam thanked her for the items and for all of her help. He started to ask if she would be all right there alone when the wagon sounded too close. Her eyes showed alarm, but being prepared this time she quietly got up and went into the other room. This time Sam could hear the trap door close as she went down into the root cellar. He then understood her method of escape.
As he waited the few minutes for Eric to come inside Sam couldn’t help but wonder how Sara would manage. She was all alone in the countryside, expecting a baby and winter was on its way. In all of his near forty years he had never once considered how anyone else lived. As a young child Sam was abandoned and forced to wander the streets of Toronto. He learned his underhanded, selfish ways there and managed to survive by being somewhat of a con artist. When he moved to Red River in 1874, he found employment at a bank with the intention of embezzling funds. He found it much more profitable when he became somewhat honest and provided loans at outrageous interest rates. Three years later he moved to a new settlement called Grand Valley. It was a week further west via the riverboat steamer, Prince Rupert, where businesses were needed along with some form of entertainment. The little town was one of the first of its kind as the west developed. It provided for the new settlers and what was left of the hunters and trappers, as the forts in the area for the most part had disappeared. It seemed his business and saloon with an attached hotel for those late nights were welcomed. Sam set up two large tents side by side and soon his venture was well underway. Eventually news spread of the town as it grew and the good farmland that surrounded it. The easterners gradually came to settle the wide-open prairies. Sam had found his gold mine, and as the town grew, so did his takings. In 1881, word came that the railway was not to be built near Grand Valley, but instead had been rerouted south of the great river on higher, sandy soil. Sam moved to the new location as he felt certain the railroad would bring with it more opportunity and bought what land he could. Not long after, his perceptiveness turned to income. He knew lumber would be a big business and proceeded to contract for what he could. In time he built himself a very modern home and hotel and several small shops, which he rented out to some of the new town businesses. Many of these people needed loans to get underway. It didn’t seem to matter what happened, if Sam was in the middle of it, it made a profit. He wasn’t well liked by many but that was the least of his worries.
“You ready to go home?” Eric asked as he opened the door without a knock and entered the little house. Again he bowed his head to miss the doorway. Behind him a young man followed, slightly dragging one leg as he walked. He held his left hand awkwardly at his waist and moisture from a continuous drool covered his scraggly beard. It was obvious he had some problems and Sam knew him as the town’s charge. A couple of years before he was left an orphan after a runaway team
overturned a wagon. His father was killed and the accident left Toby severely injured. His mother died a few years earlier during an influenza outbreak before they came west. It was thought that he would not survive the mishap, but only after he pulled through did the true damage show. Sam provided him with a room in the back of the hotel’s stable, where Eric also stayed. The boy cleaned the horse stalls for a little extra spending money. The ladies of the town tried desperately to clean him up, but he fought against it terribly. Occasionally they won the battle and this must have been one of those times. He was rewarded with a wagon ride in the country.
“Hey, Toby,” Sam said. “How are you?”
“I help’n Eric brin’ ya home,” the boy drawled back.
“Good, let’s get going,” Sam said as he tried to stand with Eric’s help.
“Where lady?” Toby drooled, “Eric said lady care you. Where perdy lady?”
“She’s not here right now, Toby.” Sam rubbed the boy’s freshly washed head, “and we have to get home before dark.”
“I want see lady.”
Eric cuffed the lad’s ear, “We’ve got to go, Toby. You help Sam on the other side.”
Together the three made their way onto the porch before Sam rested a moment.
“You all right?” Eric asked.
“Yep,” Sam gave a slight nod, but the beads of sweat on his forehead showed his difficulty.
They were all taken by surprise to see the black horse tied to the back of the wagon. A rope halter held him in place, the saddle, saddle bags and bridle were thrown into the box. Sam looked around the yard to try to catch a glimpse of his rescuer and felt a touch of disappointment when she was nowhere to be seen.
Being a big man, Eric lifted Sam to the bench seat at the front of the wagon. He walked around the back, helped Toby up in place, and then climbed into the seat beside his boss. He took hold of the reins, flicked them and clucked at the horses. The team pulled ahead and followed the trail past a small grove of fruit trees. The few leaves that remained showed the red and gold colours of fall. Sam noticed for the first time where the barn once stood. Now all that could be seen was its charred remains, and he realized what a loss this could be to someone in Sara’s situation.
In the back of the wagon Toby became excited. With spit flying he exclaimed, “Fire! Big fire! Perdy fire?”
Eric turned and swung at him as he yelled at the boy to be quiet and sit down.
Toby slumped down on the wagon floor. He sulked and muttered to himself, “Perdy fire…”
Chapter Two
The ride back to town started quietly, the slight repetitive squeak of the wagon being the only sound. Toby lay down in the back and eventually went to sleep with the sway and the sound lulling him.
Although it was next to impossible, Eric kept the ride as smooth as possible. As they traveled north from the homestead, the team pulled the wagon over a single large hill. When they arrived at the top, Sam turned back to see the beauty of the land. The settlers claimed their land not far from a small lake with more rolling hills to the south.
“So, everything all right back in town?” Sam asked, trying to break the silence.
“Same as ya left it. Why do you think t’guy bushwhacked you t’other day? Think he knew ya were looking to do business in Plum Creek?”
“I don’t know, but I think you were right, the days of me traveling alone have ended. I’m glad Toby made it back to town safely. I sent him back as soon as I knew trouble was brewing.”
“Ya lucky ya got somewhere for help. Who was this woman anyway?”
“Sara.”
“Man, you’re lucky she didn’t leave ya to bleed to death, or maybe finish ya off herself.”
“Why? You know her?” Sam looked at Eric rather puzzled.
“Ya mean ya don’t?”
“Should I?”
“Must’a bin Sara Gardiner, William’s wife. Thought she’d left the farm last summer and headed back east.”
Sam sat in silence, wondering why Sara Gardiner would help, unless she didn’t recognize him. The rest of the ride back to Brandon went by quietly, both men thinking of the past.
Nearly two years earlier, William Gardiner began coming to Grand Valley almost daily. After being only an occasional customer he suddenly began to frequent the tavern. Sam wasn’t sure why, but knew the man had problems at home and a man wanting to drown his sorrows often proved to be profitable. William had a soft spot for the girls and especially one struck his fancy. The establishment moved to Brandon when Grand Valley started to decline and he followed with his business. Gradually the whiskey and poker games started to interest him more and more. Like most other men avoiding problems, when he was in the tavern he felt like the outside world disappeared. This certainly didn’t bother Sam. After all, the Gardiners held a bank loan to develop their farm. The more time William spent in the saloon, the less likely he would be farming his land and would probably not be able to pay back the money. The collateral being the farm, Sam saw dollar signs whenever the farmer entered his establishment.
During the next winter, William went deeply into debt to the saloon, which often bailed him out of poker losses. Near the end of March, Sam called in the loan the farmer had no means of paying off. They agreed he would bring Sam the team of beautiful Shire mares as payment on the last day of the month. The bar owner was gracious enough to give his loyal patron an additional twenty dollars credit.
Several days went by with no sign of the man or the team and no one was allowed to beat Sam Fielding. The weather was mild on the third day of April and he felt it had been long enough to wait for payment. Eric was sent out to the farm to retrieve the team and although it hadn’t been planned, Toby followed. Eric thought of sending him back to town, but really didn’t expect any trouble, so let the boy tag along.
When they arrived no one appeared to be at the Gardiner homestead. Eric went directly down to the barn, expecting the team to be in their stall, when he met William at the door, shotgun in hand.
“Hey, hold on.” Eric held his left hand up toward the farmer. “We don’t want any trouble, but Mr. Fielding wants t’team today.” Behind his back his right hand held the Frontier 44 he often tucked into the back of his jeans under his jacket.
William leveled his rifle toward the collector’s belly. “I need the team, or I can’t put in this year’s crop.”
“Hey, I’ve got no say in t’ matter. I have ta take ‘em today. Maybe you can rent ‘em back from Mr. Fielding.”
“I can’t let you take them,” he cocked the trigger.
But Eric was much more experienced at gun fighting and before William’s gun discharged, the bullet from the 44 hit the farmer in the chest. The man fell back against a small pile of hay and as he lay dying, Eric simply walked past him to find the horses.
Toby watched the commotion, getting so excited he jumped up and down and screamed wildly.
As he walked back past the boy leading the team, Eric suggestively told him a lantern hung in the barn. Several times Toby started fires in the town and everyone was well aware any flames needed to be watched closely. Fire fascinated him in a dangerous way. Eric told Toby to follow shortly and left the farm, leading the team behind his horse. As expected, soon flames could be seen a mile away, black smoke funneling toward the sky.
Eric was back to town before Toby caught up to him. He delivered the horses to the hotel’s stable when the boy, excited and flushed, rushed into the barn. Jumping up and down he tried to tell Eric something but between the mumbled words and lack of interest, the man couldn’t understand what the boy tried to say. He left Toby to brush his horse and went to tell his boss what happened.
Sam was only a little disappointed at the news. He lost one of the saloon’s best customers, but the prospects of a farm payment not being made this fall pleased him. He thought William had a wife, but he never mentioned any children. She certainly wouldn’t have anything to stay here for now and probably would go back home in the
east.
When they arrived back in Brandon, Eric drove the team to the back of the saloon where Sam’s home was located. As soon as he pulled back on the reins and called “Whoa” to the horses, Toby sat up in the back, exaggeratedly rubbing his eyes.
“We here already,” he yawned, “we must’ a flied.”
“Yeah, right!” Eric turned to the boy, “Help me get Sam out of the wagon.”
It was about four feet to the ground from the seat and the ride was a long and painful one. Although he tried not to, a loud groan escaped Sam as he reached the ground. Eric tried to lift his boss to carry him, but was met with a demand not to, as no one was to see Sam Fielding not in control. They helped him up the six steps to the door, which suddenly opened and the housekeeper, Mary Benson, met them.
She took Toby’s place at Sam’s left side, sending the boy away. “Go and get Doc Brown. Tell him Mr. Fielding needs him right away.” She sent him scrambling, waving her hand at him.
Toby took off on the run, tripping over his feet, almost falling flat on the ground.
“Take it easy kid, get there in one piece!” Eric yelled.
As they stepped inside Eric hoisted Sam into his arms, refusing to listen to any protest, which was not quite as demanding this time. Mary led the men into the sitting room, adjoining the large entrance. The room was decorated to show off the owner’s wealth and the settee Eric was heading for came from France. Mary quickly covered it with a blanket as Mr. Fielding’s clothing was greatly soiled from the dusty ride home and the tragic activity of the day before. Sara had patched the trousers but they were still covered with blood and dirt.
After making Mr. Fielding comfortable, Mary went to his bedroom to get a robe. She was a smaller woman, a touch on the heavy side, but she moved quickly up the stairs. After returning with it, she dismissed herself to go prepare a pot of tea for after the doctor’s visit. Eric helped Sam change, throwing the soiled clothes in a pile for the trash.
New Beginnings (New Beginnings Series) Page 2