by Lucy Evanson
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Sam felt like a teakettle with the spout stopped up, and stepping out onto the porch to find the two of them practically going at it had only made things worse. As he stomped up the hill, he found it difficult to keep himself from screaming in anger and frustration, and his hands shook as he changed out of his coat and shirt collar. There were certain times when he wished that he liked to drink, because he could certainly use something to help him forget about this evening, at least for a while.
It was almost like she had arranged the whole thing just to humiliate him. An invitation to dinner, just to hear the announcement that she was going to marry another man. If she had thought that was something he’d have wanted to witness, she’d been sorely mistaken. But then, she had almost looked shocked when Carter spilled the news. Had she been taken by surprise too? I guess in the end it doesn’t matter. She said yes, after all.
How could she marry Carter? Sam let himself collapse heavily onto the chair and let out a long sigh. What could she possibly see in him? Of course, as soon as the question formed in his mind, he was able to supply several answers. Carter was tall and handsome, rich and well-educated. Sam studied his reflection in a water glass. Not bad, he thought. Just not Carter.
He shot to his feet again and began pacing back and forth in the small room. Well, there was no way for him to beat Carter on money, that was for sure. And although Sam had educated himself just fine, it didn’t match up to Oxford. So this was a fight he couldn’t win. But was that all that mattered? It seemed unlikely. Of course, he hadn’t known Katie all that long, and she definitely came from a different world compared to the frontier, but she had never struck him as the kind of woman who cared only for money and fancy names.
Whether from the emotions of the evening or from all the pacing he was doing, Sam realized that a sheen of sweat had formed on his brow. He stepped outside and plopped down onto the stump, letting the cool evening air flow around him. The porch was empty now, and as he gazed down the hill at the house, it looked almost as it had every other night since Kate had shown up in his life. If you ignored the guests’ carriages parked in front, it could have been any night at all, in fact. It was nearly possible to imagine that the last hour had been a dream—or a nightmare—and that come morning, everything would be back to normal. Sam would go to bed shortly, toss and turn for a few hours and rise bleary-eyed to begin the day, but there would be no bad news hanging over his head, no wedding date ominously approaching on the calendar, no wound in his heart that would bleed afresh every time he saw Kate’s face. It was nearly possible to imagine that, but sometimes nearly possible was a damn sight not good enough.
I never should have let myself even think about her this way. I should have just kept going along, working the plan and plugging away. It was silly to think that I could land a high-class girl like her anyway. We’re from different worlds. Sam let out a long sigh and leaned back against the wall of the cabin. But then…maybe that’s not true after all.
He leaped to his feet again, more out of a need to burn off some energy than out of a desire to go anywhere. He started pacing back and forth again, now creating a ringed path in the dirt outside his door. She may think I’m just a farm boy, but there’s more to me than that. And if I think she’s just a rich girl who only cares about superficial things, maybe I’m wrong too.
He stopped to stare down the hill again toward the house. If he listened closely, he thought he could almost hear laughter drifting up to him. Perhaps he had been too hasty in leaving the party. He ran one hand through his hair, brushing it back and out of his eyes. It was hard to know what to do with women, that was certain. Maybe it was best just to put this whole idea out of his head and concentrate on his business. Things had been going great up until Kate arrived on the farm, and he’d let himself get distracted. Distracted over nothing, as it turned out.
Sam stood up and stepped inside to retrieve his journal, returning to his stump to review his progress. So far, so good. He’d talked to God knows how many men around Mineral Point, trying to scratch up every nugget of wisdom, every piece of information that could help him get his own business going, and he’d finally figured out a way to do it.
With a little luck and a lot of hard work, Sam had calculated that he’d be able to quit his job and start working for himself in only five years. Seems like a hell of a long time, now that I think about it. Still, since I’m starting with nothing, I guess that’s not too bad.
As he looked down the hill at the farmhouse, however, he realized that he had made a fatal miscalculation, one which could destroy his whole plan. Sam’s head dropped, and it was as if a cold wind had filled him up. Ever since his parents had died, he had tried to convince himself that he was strong enough to make it on his own. He had slipped into his father’s position seamlessly, supporting his mother until she died, and then he’d struck on his plan to start his own business. With only hard work and determination, a man could make something of himself. Bill Taylor had said that a thousand times. Hell, Bill had lived that way too.
But staring at his journal, looking at the notes and figures that were telling him that he was on his way, Sam realized that it was all a lie. It didn’t matter how well he did, it didn’t matter how he was progressing if he didn’t have somebody to share his eventual success with. His mother had once passed on some family wisdom, telling him that even in paradise, living alone would be hell. At the time, it had seemed like just another proverb, but Sam felt its truth now.
He stared down the hill again. So you got knocked down a little bit. You gonna lie there in the dirt? Or are you gonna pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start again? Sam stood up and took a deep breath, letting the night’s air rush into his lungs and clear out the chill that had filled him. Nothing’s certain until there’s a ring on her finger, he thought. And who knows, maybe that ring will be mine someday. Stranger things have happened. I just can’t think of any right now.