New Beginnings (New Beginnings Series)

by Doreen Winona Logeot

  Sara stood up from the bed and took the tightly-wrapped bundle out of the medicine box. She held the small blue stone and rubbed its smoothness between her fingers before handing it to Sam. “There were not many things I brought back with me, other than the empty medicine box and the stone. I didn't want to take the memories home, but I couldn’t leave them behind.” She sat down beside him, looking at the horseshoe nail. “My father gave me this when William and I got married. He said I would have to be strong like the iron in the nail, but at the right time be able to bend.” She smiled when she added, “He always said I was stubborn like my mother.” She held the cloth to her nose and drew a deep breath, “I have to imagine it now, but I can almost smell Mother's rose water.” Sara took the stone and wrapped her memories into the small bundle and placed them back in the box.

  She refilled the cups with coffee before returning to the bed. Even though he was fully dressed, Sam had the cover over himself and pulled it back so she would lie down beside him. He leaned on one elbow so he could look down at her, gently touching a finger to her lips. She meekly put her hand over his and moved it so it lay on her breast. The kiss they shared was one of intense passion, the urgency surging through them both. They held onto each other tightly not wanting to break the touch for even a moment.

  “I don't understand how I can want something so much that scares me,” Sara whispered to him.

  Sam raised himself so he could see those eyes, which at this moment seemed to plead. “Why does it scare you?”

  “William was not a gentle man,” Sara pulled away and sat on the bed so she faced away from him. “He was the only man I knew in that sense, until … well …” She took the cup of coffee and slowly emptied it, trying to find the right words. With her back still to him she continued, “I never felt the way about William as I’m starting to feel about you.”

  Sam lay back on the bed, placing his hand against his forehead. With a puzzled look he asked, “You were married for what, seventeen years? Did you not love him?”

  Still looking away, she answered, “William and I went to the same school together. He was to be married to a local girl, Heather, when I left to go south. When I came back home from the fighting, I learned about a year after they wed, she and his baby died from scarlet fever. William read in a newspaper about the Red River Settlement and the Métis who lived there. He thought by starting fresh in a new land, he could forget about the past. I joined him to get away from my own memories. I thought a completely new life would help me forget about all the blood and death and I thought I could learn to love him. Everything went well until little Elizabeth died. He started to hate me even then. Sometimes he would leave for weeks at a time to travel to Portage La Prairie, saying he would go for supplies. Or in later years he would travel to Tanner’s Crossing or Rolston’s Colony and eventually to Grand Valley to drown his sorrows. He would come home full of anger and was mean, wishing I could trade places with his Heather.”

  Sam ran a kind hand over her back to tightened shoulders, gently rubbing them as he moved to sit beside her.

  She sat with her head bent forward, but straightened as his hand moved. Tears left dampness on her cheeks, but she continued, “When we received word something was wrong with my blood, he said helping all the black people poisoned it. I don’t understand how he could say such a thing, his own mother was half Abnaki, Algonquin and he knew the pain of discrimination. You don't believe my blood was poisoned, Sam? They are people, like you and I.”

  “Of course, Sara.” He took the cups off the chair, moving them to the table and sat down in front of her. Taking both hands in his own, he touched his forehead lightly against hers. “It sounds like William was a man full of hate and you have kept too much pain inside for too long. I love you, Sara and I’m going to make sure you believe it every second of the day.”

  Still looking down she whispered, “I think, I love you, too,” so quietly she almost couldn't be heard.

  “Marry me, Sara.”

  “I can't, Sam. Someday you will want the family I can't give you.”

  “Look what we have already gone through and in only three weeks. I'm certain we will survive anything. Be strong like your iron nail, but bend a little … for me.”

  She couldn't answer him, but still held on, never wanting it to end.

  It was quarter-past-ten when the sound of sleigh bells could be heard. They both rose from their places and Sara tidied up while Sam went to the door and welcomed their chauffeur inside. “Tom, I didn't expect to see you.”

  Sara recognized him as the bank manager but didn’t know his name. He had the advantage over her, as the file for this particular farm was at this moment sitting on his desk.

  Sam introduced the two and added, “I didn't think you would leave the office, especially in the morning.”

  Tom shook Sara's hand, saying, “Doc Brown said you really weren't well. You must be feeling much better.” After Sara smiled and nodded, he turned to his boss adding, “It is Sunday, Mr. Fielding. You know how people frown on work on the Sabbath.”

  “Sunday?” Sam glanced at Sara, who didn't seem to realize the day either. “I guess I have lost track of the days.”

  “If we leave soon, we will be back in Brandon before Sunday services are out.”

  “Good thinking, Tom.” Turning to Sara he added, “We'll get you to town before the crowds are on the streets and any gossiping can get started. Mary will be visiting her sister until evening, so that gives us the day to get you settled in.”

  It was obvious by Tom's expression he had no idea what was going on, but he also knew unless Mr. Fielding offered any information, it was really none of his concern.

  They quickly loaded Sara's belongings. The crate of chickens was tied onto the back of the vehicle and an old blanket placed over it to keep out most of the cold. Dickens gave himself a good shake as he came out of the small building and eagerly walked to his place behind the sleighs.

  When they were ready to leave, Sam found Sara standing at the gate of the tiny cemetery, her shawl pulled tightly around her. He offered her his arm and together they walked back in silence.

  The step up to the seat was high and difficult for Sara to manage. It tired her greatly and after they were settled together, Sam's arm around her, Tom covered them both with a heavy buffalo robe.

  She quietly asked, “Is he a good man, Sam?”

  Loud enough so Tom could hear he answered, “Don't worry, he won't tell anyone anything he shouldn't. Right, Tom?”

  Their driver turned and smiled at Sara, “Right, Mr. Fielding.”

  It was about an hour and a half ride back to Brandon. The trail from Doc Brown's sleigh was still open and by now was making a good road, at least until the next wind would fill it in with soft snow. Sara slept most of the way, being comfortable under the heavy hide, next to the man she was learning to feel safe beside.

  Sam quietly asked Tom, “How is everything at the bank?”

  “I stopped at Brett Cumming's yesterday. He broke his leg at the new mill last week. He expected to repay the loan the first of the month, but he wants us to carry him, interest-free, until he can get back to work. It could be three months or better.”

  “He knows we can't do that. It is unfortunate, but business is business. He doesn't have much collateral either, the home they are living in and the mill. I guess it will have to be one or the other. How many kids do they have?”

  “Three and one due next month.”

  “Well, I guess it would be better to take the mill. It could be a profitable business.”

  “I'll go in the morning to tell them. There's still the matter of loans to collect. Wednesday is November first and four have no payments made.”

  “Well, we will start proceeding tomorrow. Can't let it go overtime … no exceptions.”

  “No exceptions?” Tom asked, shifting his eyes to Sara then back to Mr. Fielding.

  Sam caught the meaning. “Well …” he hesitated.


  Without opening her eyes, Sara said, so they both could hear, “No exceptions. Business is business. Besides, I have no use for the land anymore.” Her eyes opened and Sam could see the lack of emotion in them again. Whenever she felt pain, he was learning, she could block those feelings, until it came to be too much.

  “This is different, Sara.”

  “No Sam, business is business. I've had bad luck like the others and that is the gamble we take.”

  He half expected her to pull away, but she didn’t, as if she resigned herself to him.

  When they arrived in the city Sara suddenly straightened in her seat beside Sam, a look of shock covering her face. “This can't be Brandon, what happened here?” It was nearly a year since she ventured to the new town and in only a short time, it had grown greatly in size. Sara heard in May when a friend delivered her mail, the population was growing, but she never imagined it would have grown to the extent it had.

  “I'd forgotten you haven’t been to town for so long. It was the railroad that brought the people west. It certainly isn't the quiet town you will remember,” Sam answered.

  The streets were not busy as it was time for the Sunday services, but Sara was assured by the amount of vehicles outside the church soon the streets would be full of activity. The town was quite unrecognizable and the sign that announced Blye's Mercantile hung over the entrance to a new building instead of the tent Sara was in before. Another new building a few doors down from the store housed the saloon and the Fielding residence.

  Sam braced his right leg against the sleigh and lifted Sara down from the seat. He was relieved to see the blue eyes had softened. He felt forgiven. When in the world did it ever matter what someone thought of him? Never, until now.

  Eric walked over from the stable, Toby straggling behind. Sam was quite aware Sara stepped behind him, placing her hand on his back. He knew it was not the time for introductions and quickly instructed his hired hand to take the chickens to the barn. He added he would go later to release and feed them.

  Eric obeyed, but gave his boss a confused glance. “Feed chickens?” he asked Toby under his breath.

  The boy jumped up and down in excitement. “Chick'ns, chick'ns,” he exclaimed wildly, following his friend.

  Sara looked at the six steps up to the front door and slowly started to make her way behind Tom as he carried the small trunk. Sam followed with the medicine case, but had to move slowly with his bad leg. Tom came back and took the case from him. Sara turned, presenting her hand to Sam. “We make a good pair, we move like an old couple.”

  Sam grinned back at her at the mention they could be considered a couple.

  Tom returned, smiling at them, knowing his help would no longer be needed. “I'll take Dickens to the barn and then I best get to the church. Sally will want a ride home.”

  “Thanks, Tom,” Sam shook his employee's hand, “Remember, discretion.”

  “Don't have to worry about me.” He tipped his hat to his boss.

  “I know,” Sam smiled back.

  Chapter Nine

  Once inside the house, Sara removed her oversized boots and placed them on the mat at the door. Sam took off his outdoor clothes and hung them in the closet near the entrance, then placed her boots there as well. Taking her shawl from her shoulders he hung it up.

  Sara stood in awe, looking at wealth she had never seen before. “Now, I really can’t say ‘yes’ to you.”

  “Why, love?” he asked, taken aback.

  “Because you will think it is your money I want,” she still looked around the room.

  “Somehow it doesn’t seem to fit your description,” he took her hand to show her his home. “I think that is the least of my worries and the greatest is to get you to say ‘yes’.”

  Sara was quite delighted by the kitchen, complete with a wood-burning stove with a water reservoir to keep a supply of warm water on hand and a modern icebox nearby. A sink had its own pump next to it and a drain so the dirty water didn’t have to be carried outside. It was a large room and Sam noticed she looked to be in awe. “I must warn you, Mary is quite possessive of her kitchen. She really isn’t one to share this room.”

  Sara looked disappointed, but said in thought, “Maybe I could make you a Sunday dinner sometime?”

  “Sounds good, but not today. I’m going to get you settled into your room so you can rest.” He pulled her close and gave her a quick kiss. “After we have a bite to eat.” He went to the icebox and pulled out a baked ham, placing it on the large preparation table in the centre of the room. He opened the breadbox and put the previous day’s loaf beside it. “This is just about all Mary trusts me with and only when she is away.”

  As they ate their sandwiches Sam pointed to the door off the kitchen where Mary lived. “She has ears like a fox too, so I can’t sneak around here at night.”

  Another door off of the kitchen went to a small storage room that held a washing machine which ran by the turn of a crank, with wringers to push the extra water out of the clothes. “I saw a picture in a newspaper once of one of these new machines. I’ve never used anything other than a scrub board and a bucket.”

  Sam opened another door in the storage room which led to the saloon. It was dark except for the rays of light coming from the two windows at the front. “The girls will be up later in the day. No doubt they were up late last night.” They went into the room, which echoed each step on the hardwood floor. “Edward, the bartender, lives in one of the rooms too, but Sunday is everyone’s day of rest around here.” In the darkness he couldn’t read her eyes and started to think for a moment this might not be the place to impress her.

  “I’ve never been in a saloon when it was so quiet before.” Sam looked at her rather puzzled, until she added after a mysterious pause, “they set one up as a hospital one time down south. Whiskey is good for a lot of ailments. I maybe shouldn’t admit to it, but I’ve had the occasional glass myself. Does that surprise you, Sam?” she asked with a slightly impish glint in her eye.

  “Nothing seems to surprise me about you, Sara. It just makes me love you more.” He pulled her to him kissing her hard and deep and she returned it with every ounce of strength she had. “Marry me, Sara?” he asked again and before she could answer, he again covered her mouth with his, slowly dotted kisses up to her ear and in a breath whispered, “Bend for me, love.”

  Her breathing was heavy against him but still she said, “I can’t.”

  “I’ll keep asking you until you can.”

  He took her hand and led her back into his home. They went to the entrance where the trunk and medicine box sat on a small table. Sam carried the trunk and Sara followed with the box, over to a small door next to the kitchen. He opened it and revealed a set of ropes. “This is an elevator called a ‘dumb waiter’, he said as he started to pull on a rope. Gradually, a wooden box with a front opening lowered itself into sight. Sara stood spellbound and looked up into the shaft. Sam put the trunk and then the box onto the floor of the small compartment and reversed the direction of the ropes. As she watched, her possessions made their way to the second floor. He closed the door when they were in place and led Sara to the long flight of stairs which made a graceful curve up to the top storey.

  As she looked up at the long flight of stairs, then back at Sam, her eyes still glimmering, she asked, “Think I would fit in your dumb waiter?” a gentle laugh following the question.

  “That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh. I think it is the sound a twinkling star would make if you could hear it.”

  Sara reached for his hand as they started to ascend the stairway, “What are you trying to do? Melt my heart?”

  “Is it working?”

  Without an answer they slowly continued in anticipation of what the days ahead could give them together.

  It took a while for them to get to the top of the eighteen steps to the lavishly decorated second floor. It was every bit as beautifully completed as the lower floor and showed a more personal
ized choice of decor. Sam opened the door to the first room, which obviously was his, decorated in solid colours of various blues.

  A large fireplace graced one wall and over the mantel hung several native trinkets. Sara went over to them, running her fingers over a piece of leather which displayed intricate beadwork, then to a carefully carved pipe. “These are beautiful,” she said, admiring the delicate work.

  Sam smiled back at her and walked over to a door on the other side of the room saying, “Let me show you your room.” A skeleton key sat in the keyhole and made a slight click as he turned it. Without a sound the door opened to the next bedroom decorated in a feminine style of flowers and birds.

  “I would guess I am not the first woman to use this room and possibly walk through the door in the middle of the night.”