The spell was suddenly broken as a loud rumble came from Sara’s empty stomach and she gave a shy smile. With a quick kiss, she pulled away from Sam and turned to the cold food. Within a few minutes she lined a pan with the mashed potatoes, placed the carrots in the bottom, added a bit of flour and flavourings to the broth the canned chicken sat in and placed it in the newly warmed oven. “There … about fifteen minutes and your supper will be as good as new.”
Sam came up behind her, moved one hand around her waist and softly held her just below her breasts, his thumb gently following the curve. With his other hand he pulled aside her long hair and tenderly kissed the back of her neck, then whispered, “What kind of trouble can we get into in fifteen minutes?”
Sara leaned her cheek back against his and answered, “It’ll be at least a couple of weeks before we can get into very much trouble.”
“Two weeks, two months, whatever it takes, I can wait,” he said rubbing his beard against her cheek, but again the shudder ran through her. “Don’t like the beard?” he asked rubbing his chin with his hand.
“I can’t imagine you without it.”
“Neither can I, but if you think …”
“No Sam, I’ll get used to it.” She placed her cheek back next to his and gently rubbed against it. “See, I’m getting used to it already.”
Sam pulled her back over to the bed, “Well, if we have to behave ourselves, I guess we better get to know each other better.” Sara sat down, leaning against the wall and Sam placed his head on her lap. She ran her fingers over his chin, feeling the smoothness of his perfectly trimmed beard.
“What do you want to know, Sam Fielding? What could possibly interest you about a poor peasant girl?”
“I want to learn everything about you.” He took her hand and looked at it closely, slowly running his own fingers over hers, learning each part, her knuckles, joints, fingernails, every tiny scar. He stopped at her ring finger of her right hand, moving the two gold wedding bands around her finger. “Why two wedding bands? Why on your right hand?” He wanted to understand the real reason before any untrue thoughts might occur to him.
“This one belonged to my mother’s mother. When she died, her ring was given to Mama. About nine years ago, when my mother died, my father sent me hers and my grandmother’s. I used to think someday I would give them to my daughter, along with my ring, had there been one.”
“William didn’t give you a wedding ring?” Sam asked, searching the other hand.
“He said we couldn’t afford it. He could spend money on other women, but he thought a ring was of no use.” Again Sara had the look in her eyes showing no emotion. “Oh well, I won’t have to worry about giving any of them to my daughter.”
He wanted to ask about the other women William knew, but thought better of it for now. Well aware her husband was a good patron at his saloon, Sam wasn’t prepared to bring the connection so close to home yet.
Sam took her fingers and kissed the tip of each, one at a time. He thought to himself, ‘we’ll change this … daughters … sons … we’ll change it all.’ But he reminded himself again it was what scared her most.
They sat down for a late supper together. Sam set the table while Sara brought the meal from the oven. He couldn’t walk past her without running his hand over her arm, across her back or finally over her buttocks. She didn’t say anything, but it did make her smile. He set the plates beside each other and pulled two chairs close together.
She looked at everything set so close, “How are you ever going to wait?”
“Don’t worry about me. I could wait a year if it is what you want. As long as I can touch and hold you, I can wait.” He sat down in the chair next to the wall and pulled Sara down beside him, “Besides, we’ll have to be a bit more careful when we are in Brandon. Mary does tend to gossip a bit. I have thought of letting her go, but she is an excellent housekeeper. I’ve learned to be more careful around her, but I would think her imagination will be going wild by now.” He took a bite of his supper. “How did you do this? It’s good … really good,” he said as he placed more food on his fork and offered it to Sara.
“A lot of practice,” she responded before letting him pamper her.
As they ate their supper Sara started to ask, “What am I going to do in town?”
“First, you are going to get back to feeling better. Take it easy … be waited on. Maybe you could work for Doc Brown. He said he asked you before.”
“And where am I going to live?”
“Well, until you are better you can stay in my guest room. You can stay as long as you like. If you feel you want your own place, I own a few houses in Brandon. But we’ll wait and see.”
“I can’t leave my chickens out here. They will freeze when it gets really cold.”
“Oh, I’ve thought of that too, so there are no excuses to stay here. I set your crates out. I’ll catch them in the morning. They can stay in the stable, I like fresh eggs.”
“I guess I can’t say no, can I?”
Sam pulled her closer and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “I’m not going to let you go, Sara Gardiner, each excuse you can make, I’ll find an answer for it.”
“And what do we tell Mary and all the other busybodies in town?”
“Someone must have really hurt you.”
“When your husband starts visiting the ladies of the night and you can’t keep your babies alive, mix that with a knowledge of herbs and such with healing powers … well, let me say I’ve heard occult mentioned several times. That’s why I stopped going to church regular.”
“Oh Sara, no one believes in sorcery anymore.”
“I don’t know. They sure like to talk.”
“You worked magic with this supper, anyway,” Sam rubbed his full stomach. “Maybe you could work for me,” he added with a playful raising of his eyebrows.
Sara’s only answer was a shy smile. Never before would she consider being a mistress but under these circumstances, she understood why a woman might do it. She never wanted to feel lonely again, yet she could not risk another pregnancy. She stood up and went to a cupboard to find a package Sam brought with the other supplies. She emptied some of its contents in a dish and placed it on the table.
He took a piece of the dried fruit and looked at it, “You were supposed to eat this, not save it.”
“I thought ... maybe …if the baby lived … I would need it more then.”
“So the thought did cross your mind.”
“Just for a second.” She sat down next to him and he pulled her close. She ate a couple slices of apricot, “Nearly as good as fresh Saskatoons … not quite, but almost.”
Sam started stacking the dishes after a look at his pocket watch. “These can wait ‘til morning. You better get some sleep. We’ve got a long trip to make tomorrow and it is going to three in the morning.”
Sara went into the next room to change, but quickly came back into the kitchen carrying her nightclothes. “It’s too cold in there.” She placed the gown on top of the warming oven for a few minutes while she proceeded to remove the top dress she put on earlier to go outside. Sam had already shed his outer clothes and lay down in the bed, watching her. She turned down the lantern and with her back to him removed the top of her dress, guided the nightgown over all, then pulled the dress out from underneath.
Sam turned back the covers as she climbed in beside him, “You’re pretty good at hiding, too!” He placed his arm around her as she put her head on his shoulder. “I could get really used to this,” he whispered.
“Me, too,” she gave his cheek a quick peck, “Goodnight, Sam.”
He drew her a little closer, wanting to stay awake so their time alone could last longer, but they were both exhausted and sleep was inevitable.
Sara awoke with a start the next morning, suddenly aware she was alone in the bed. From the south window she could see the night was starting to give way to a clear day. She stepped out onto the porch in her bare feet a
nd flannel gown, the fear of once again being left alone creating a sense of urgency.
A glow of light came from the small hen house and Sam unexpectedly appeared through the door on his way back to the house. He was astounded to see her standing there, so inadequately clad. “What are you doing out here?” he asked rather sternly as he opened the door and ushered her inside. She didn’t speak but he could see her eyes were filled with tears threatening to spill. “When are you going to believe I am not going to leave you here alone?” He opened his coat, pulling her inside with him for warmth and held her, not expecting an answer.
After their breakfast, Sam thought it would be best to prepare for Sara’s move to town. They both went into the next room, leaving the door open so the heat from the kitchen could warm it. She started with the closet, removing her dresses one by one, handing them to Sam and he sorted them into two piles on the bed. As they finished, a small stack held only three dresses, the other held the rest. Sam picked up the three, “These will do until we can go shopping. There are lots of new shops in town.”
“Sam, you don’t need to buy me new clothes, I’ve lots right here.” She pointed to the discarded dresses.
“I don’t need to, I want to. You won’t be doing any field work in Brandon and if you really want to come back here, these won’t leave on their own.”
Sara shrugged her shoulders and started to hang the other dresses back in the wardrobe. She realized Sam never left her room to make excuses for anything. Saying she could come back when she wanted gave her no reason not to leave.
“Is there anything else you want to take?” he asked as he came back into the kitchen, where a small trunk was set to hold her possessions.
Sara went to the dresser, opened a lower drawer and removed a folded quilt, a bundle of letters tied with a blue ribbon and a leather-bound bible which was rather worn. “I think this is everything in here. I would like to take the clock on the shelf in the kitchen.” She carried her collection into the main room and closed the door tightly behind her after taking a quick look back at many memories.
Sam took the items from her and placed each carefully into the trunk. As he took the bible he asked, “Do you believe in God?” It seemed a most unusual question as in this area Christianity seemed expected in some form. Sunday was a time for worship and strictly a time of rest. Although there was no law to it yet, only “heathens” conducted business, or participated in commercial entertainment on the Sabbath.
Sara hesitated before she answered, “I used to believe with all my heart, but I’ve seen so many things, asked for help so many times, that I don’t know any more. Besides, if it means being one of those busybodies who go to church to see what everyone is wearing, well, it doesn’t seem right.” She looked back at Sam, as he appeared to absorb every word she spoke. “What about you, do you believe?”
“I’ve never really thought about it. I guess when your main business is loaning money, gambling and dancing girls … I never really thought about it.”
After the lot was packed, Sara thought for a minute and went into the other room again. She bent to pull something from under the bed but made a painful sound. Sam immediately went to the bedside and helped her pull out a large wooden case.
“You are still very sore.” It was more of a comment than a question.
“I never felt like this before, Sam. I’ve given birth to six other babies and it never was as bad as this.”
Sam placed his hand on her cheek and turned it so those blue eyes looked into his own. “You nearly died, Sara. You’ve got to take it easy so you can get better.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “What would I ever do without you?”
“You didn’t know me three weeks ago. What difference would it make?”
He leaned forward and kissed her gently before saying, “Have you never wondered why Dickens happened to bring me into your yard? Doc Brown said I could have lost my leg had I gone to anyone else but you. I should have come here sooner, but if I’d been much later, you could have either frozen or died giving birth. I don’t remember ever saying a prayer before, but that day I did, for you to live and God answered.”
By now they were both sitting on the floor. Sara felt uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going and looked down at her hands. She tried to get up, but again the soreness was too much and Sam quickly rose and helped her.
He didn’t let go after she was standing. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and gave a tight hug. He quietly said into her ear as if someone else might hear, “I always told myself I would never fall in love, but I am, Sara.” He wanted to say more but felt her stiffen in his arms and knew he said too much already.
She quickly responded, “Don’t Sam … someday you will want more than I can give you.”
They pulled away from each other, their eyes both searching for answers. He could see hers showed a longing that tried to stay hidden.
“I’ll never expect any more than you can give me.” He picked up the wooden box then turned to take it to the kitchen. With his back to her he continued, “I can wait, Sara. For you, I can wait.”
She hesitated before going into the other room. From a top drawer in the dresser she removed a delicately embroidered handkerchief. She opened it to find a small blue stone, which had been carefully polished and an iron horseshoe nail. She bundled them back up tightly, held them in her hand and walked into the kitchen.
Sam was putting the coffee pot on the stove when she returned. Opening the box set on the table, she tucked the bundle down into a corner. The case contained many small compartments, practically all of which held a jar or package. Sara went to the cupboard for the willow bark tea and returned it to its cubicle.
Sam turned to watch and looked amazed at what the box held. He lifted a jar which read, “Hornwort”.
She could almost read his mind and said, “It’s the name of an herb.”
“No ‘eye of newt’?” he asked with a slight chuckle.
“No dried bat wings either,” she smiled as she closed the lid. “Have to be careful with this. A few of these things are quite lethal.”
Sam ran his hand over a stamped mark in the lid, which read, The United States Army, Medical Supply. “Why did you go down to the States to be a nurse?” The pot started to steam and he poured coffee into two cups, adding a pinch of sugar to both.
Sara also ran her hands over the wood, thinking of the many memories it held. “That is definitely a ‘sit-down, have a cup of coffee’ kind of story.”
Placing a chair by the bed, Sam placed the cups on it, then sat down with his back against the wall and placed a pillow on his lap, patting it with his hand. “Lie down for a while and tell me about it.”
Feeling tired, she didn’t have to be asked twice. Sara put her head down, pulling the duvet over herself. He brushed the hair from her forehead and listened as she started to tell the story of a completely different life.
Chapter Eight
“Back in the ’40’s my father and mother went to New Brunswick from New York State. He was a Methodist minister and wanted to help with the Underground Railroad. He settled near the border so they could help relocate the escaped slaves. I was born there and it was part of our lives. Sometimes the people would arrive with bad injuries and I started to help Doctor Hughes in his hospital. By the time I was sixteen I had watched all kinds of procedures and wanted to be a doctor. Of course being female, I wasn't encouraged. Everyone thought being a nurse would be sufficient, so I stayed at the clinic instead.”
“Then in ’61 the ‘War of the Rebellion’ started and the progress of the railroad ended. I wanted so much to help, especially when the matter of slavery was announced. I decided to go south and help in the hospitals. As much as I was glad to be of aid, my experience made it so I was asked to go to the places where need was the greatest. My first real encounter near the battlefront was in July, in northern Virginia near a small river named Bull Run. I remember how hot it was and we worked
quickly with the wounded. They really didn't have enough doctors and I took it upon myself to amputate a corporal’s leg. I was only sixteen.” Sara closed her eyes for a moment and ran her hand over her forehead.
Sam was certain she could see the whole procedure in her mind, as if it happened recently. He took her hand and held it tightly, running each finger in between hers, as she continued.
“I had helped with several and fortunately at the time there was a good supply of morphine, although later sometimes we didn't have enough. The hospital was set up in a town called Manassas Junction. At the time I was in serious trouble for going ahead with the surgery and was banned from being a nurse. After inspection they found it was the only thing that could have been done. His leg was severely decayed by the time he was brought in. The surgeons found they were quite satisfied with the job and with so many wounded he may have been beyond help if I didn’t go ahead. After that I was asked to go to the field hospitals, near the fighting.”
“How could they let someone so young go to the field?”
Sara looked back into Sam's dark eyes, a hint of moisture starting to show in her own. “I told them I was nineteen and they never questioned it. They were so short of medical help near the battlefields and I felt obligated to go. I worked my way through several states and was in Tennessee when word came of the Battle of Shiloh. It was on a Sunday, April 6th, of the second year, and I remember the sky being as red as blood that morning. We were at the hospital station near Chattanooga. It felt so strange to be living in the states we were against, but after a while all the soldiers started to look the same to me. Their blood was all the same colour. I arrived at Pittsburgh Landing on Monday and that same night went out to the battle site. In only two days there were about twenty-three thousand dead or dying and so many wounded … and they all looked the same.” A tear fell over Sara's cheek and Sam wiped it away with a tender touch.
“You don't have to tell me, Sara. I know it hurts you very much.”
She took a deep breath and continued with the story, as if it had to be told. “I don't think I ever remembered seeing so many people in one place before. The bodies seemed to cover miles of land. And the noise … nothing else could ever sound like it. It was nearly impossible to know where to start. Tents were set up for surgeries and soldiers who were capable brought the injured. It seemed to go on for days. The grey dress I wore was completely soaked with blood by the time I could wash it in the Tennessee River. It turned the water red around it. When I turned to leave the river I found another soldier hiding behind a fallen tree. I could have saved him, Sam, but I was too late. He must have been there for at least two days by the time I found him. He was Negro and I couldn't help but think he could have been safe in New Brunswick, but instead he was fighting for his freedom. All I could do was hold him. He told me how lucky he was to die in the arms of an angel. He said only angels could have eyes as blue as the heavens. In his hand he was holding onto a polished blue stone. He said it was a lucky one and wanted me to have it. After he died, I went back to the camp. General Grant was there and he thanked me and the others. When we did all we could, I walked away ... I couldn't do it anymore. It took almost six months to get home, but I did and never went back.”
New Beginnings (New Beginnings Series) Page 7