by Lucy Evanson
Chapter 14
Sam loves me. Even in her sleep, the thought floated through her mind, refusing to stay put underneath her dreams and eventually bobbing to the surface like a cork upon the waves. She had hardly slept a wink, but she felt rested and excited, like a child on Christmas morning. She felt better than she had in a long, long time, in fact. It was like she could sense Sam even now, even at a distance. The pull that he exerted on her was a special gravity, like an impossibly strong magnet that wanted to bring her close.
Kate rolled out of bed and went to the window. It was an overcast morning, cool and breezy, but it couldn’t have mattered less. In her heart it was warm and pleasant, sunny and bright. The wind rushed over the field before her, making the rows of corn sway as she watched, as if Sam’s cabin were a ship among green waves. Sleep, my love, she thought as she gazed up at his home, dark and quiet atop the hill. She was filled with a sense of joyous calm, knowing that he was safely resting in her sight, that he would soon be better, that she would help him get better. The image of Sam sitting at his window, watching over her the night he’d rescued her from the diggers, flew into her mind. Now it’s my turn to watch over you, she thought.
After finally returning to the house the night before, she’d gotten undressed herself and tumbled into bed, physically exhausted but with her thoughts racing. I never expected to find a man like him out here, she thought as her mind flew back to the previous evening and she remembered herself wrapped in Sam’s arms. The morning chill disappeared as she remembered his lips upon her own, upon her cheek, upon her neck. Just goes to show you, you never know where you’ll find a treasure. Just like Edward said.
Edward. I have to tell him immediately. That would be an unpleasant conversation, to say the least. The cool breeze reappeared, causing goose bumps to form over her arms and shoulders. She hugged herself against the chill. The thought of explaining things to Edward scared her, although she knew that it shouldn’t have. He’s a reasonable, intelligent person. He must understand that our relationship has already been fatally wounded. Still, the bitterness and anger that she had seen in his eyes when they’d last spoken had seared her heart like a red-hot brand. Surely I have nothing to fear, but I still wouldn’t want that fury directed toward me. I’d better take Mark and Jake with me when I talk to him. Kate shivered and rose from the window, quickly getting dressed in the dim light.
As she descended the stairs, she could hear others in the dining room, and she found her father and brothers already seated and having breakfast. As always, the food was delicious, but she hardly noticed. It was difficult to think about eggs and toast when Sam was just up the hill, and every minute she spent at the table meant another minute stolen from him. She raced through her meal as quickly as Jake usually did, earning a surprised look from her father when she pushed her chair back.
“I’m going to check on Sam,” she said. Thomas nodded and turned back to his conversation with the boys while Kate stepped out into the hall. She went to the foyer and quickly put on her shoes before stepping out onto the porch. The brisk air swept away any last remaining shreds of fatigue, and she was again filled with a joyful anticipation, as if yet-unknown wonderful things were about to come her way. She had to laugh as she stepped down from the porch and began to walk up to Sam’s cabin, lifting the hem of her dress to keep it from getting soaked in the dew. How amazing, the difference that one day can make in a life.
His cabin was dark and quiet; she entered silently and turned the chair so that she could sit and watch him sleep. There was a sense of peace that flowed around her, but she almost immediately realized that it was more than that. It was more than a pleasant sense of calm, more than an enjoyable tranquility that watching Sam gave her. She had a feeling of belonging, as if she were truly at home there in the tiny cabin with its worn rug and rickety table.
Sam coughed slightly in his sleep and turned over, revealing his face to her. The bruises still stained his skin, of course, but she didn’t notice them today. It was as if he were flawless in every way, and only her desire to let him rest kept her from rushing over to the bed and covering his face with her kisses.
Another little cough. He might be thirsty, she thought. Kate turned and reached for the pitcher on the table, quietly stepping to the door and easing it open. She went to the well alongside the cabin and lowered the bucket, waiting for the splash as it hit the water and filled itself. When she’d filled the pitcher, she returned to her seat inside, poured a glass of water, and settled back to watch him again.
So many things are going to change now, she thought. A smile grew across her lips as she imagined the things to come. A wedding. Babies. A home of their own. So many things. First, though, I have to tell Papa. In spite of what she’d told Becky about her father’s views on the social ladder, Kate was nervous about telling him about her feelings for Sam. You could never tell how a father was going to react when faced with the prospect of losing his only girl, even to a man as good as Sam. Would he permit it? Would he be happy? Would he truly respect Sam as a man, rather than just a farm boy?
He’ll simply have to. Sam’s as good as any other man. Better, in fact. Her gaze had drifted down to the floor, but now she looked at Sam again and felt a fresh burst of warmth flood through her chest. He’ll be a wonderful husband and—hopefully—father some day. And he’ll always be the knight who rode to my rescue. Even if he’s not sure at first, Papa will grow to love him as well. Yes, first she would have to tell her father.
Well, perhaps not first. Her stomach clenched again at the thought of telling Edward. He’ll be heartbroken. But at least it should be easy for him to find another person to join him in his life. Should be no problem at all. And it probably won’t even be a surprise at this point, given our argument the last time we talked. And he surely can’t imagine that I’d marry a man who might have been involved in that vicious attack on Sam.
A frown clouded her face. Even in the low light, it was clear that Sam’s attackers had been ruthlessly efficient in their beating, and Sam would need a long while to recover before he was feeling like his old self again. No, there’s no way I could marry Edward now even if I felt nothing for Sam. But then, what if he were innocent? What if this was all a coincidence, and I judged Edward too harshly? Am I throwing away Edward’s true and sincere love? Oh, I hardly know what to do anymore.
She reached for the glass, the outside slick with condensation, and took a long drink. How odd, she thought. Her mouth was filled with the taste of… something not quite right. The water, usually so fresh and clean, had tasted strange. Bitter, almost. She raised the glass to her nose and sniffed. Nothing. I must be imagining things. Or maybe the glass needs to be washed. That must be it. In that way he’s a typical man; would rather drink from a dirty glass than wash it once in a while. She took another cool sip, trying to ignore the bitterness.
Sam’s blanket rose and fell with his breath, and she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have him close to her in the night, to feel his body against her own as he slept. Or before he slept, she thought, and a smile appeared on her face as she remembered the barely restrained passion she had felt the day before. And that’s when he’s recuperating from a beating; when he’s well again, there’ll be no stopping him. She was tempted to crawl into bed with him even now, but decided not to disturb him.
Instead, she turned her thoughts back to their future together, to the unexpected new life that was laid out before them. She snorted a bit thinking about the letter that she’d be sending to her friend back in Boston. Dear Laura. I’ve married an Indian, it would start. What she wouldn’t give to see her reaction! Soon she would be able to trade married-woman stories, instead of getting lectured.
Where will we live? The cabin certainly wouldn’t do, especially if they started to have babies. And she definitely wanted to have babies. The thought of her children confined in the tiny one-room cabin made her shudder. It would have to be the house, then. Of course, it wou
ld be a bit uncomfortable living as a married woman alongside her father and brothers, but it would also be temporary. A man like Sam won’t be content living off the largesse of his father-in-law, she thought. He’ll keep working on his five-year-plan and I expect he’ll be successful in much less than that. I’m sure we’ll have our own home fairly soon, in fact.
She could already imagine their own cute house. Perhaps they would even build here on the hill so they’d be close to her family. It’ll certainly be different from the Boston brownstone I might have imagined a year ago, but there’s no place I’d rather be. The heat of the room seemed to be growing, and she took another sip of water.
And then we’ll have our own family someday. Someday soon, I hope. She smiled at the thought of a chubby-cheeked toddler running around the farm, chasing after Sam in the yard, playing hide-and-seek among the cornstalks. I hope he has Sam’s hair and my eyes. He’ll be a beautiful boy. Or perhaps we’ll have a little girl and she’ll have braided hair, as dark as a moonless night. I’ll have Becky make some cute dresses for her and she’ll be just the prettiest thing ever.
She looked around for something to fan herself with, and her eye alighted on the slim leather-bound journal that Sam had left on the table. His plan. She glanced over at him to make sure that he was still sleeping and gently pulled the book toward her. I shouldn’t, she thought, running her fingers over the cover. On the other hand, it’s not his diary, it’s a business plan.
She opened the journal and began to flip through, finding page after page covered with Sam’s handwriting. His calculations had been detailed and extensive, and as she read she began to understand the thought and care that he had put into his planning. One page had all the meticulous details that would need to be considered if he were going to try his hand at wheat farming, only to come to the conclusion that the cost of renting the land and hiring help would leave him only a tiny profit. Another page was filled with line after line of figures regarding corn, and running up against the same problem. Sam’s notes to himself came back to the same theme again and again: if he was going to do everything all by himself, he was going to have a hell of a time.
So hot in here. I don’t know how he can sleep under that blanket when it’s this warm. Kate took another drink of water and turned back to the journal. Sam had seemingly considered every possibility—he had run numbers on every crop she’d ever heard of and some she hadn’t. He had considered renting land versus saving up money to buy it. There was even a page that showed his likely income if he were to take a job in Mineral Point instead of staying here on the farm. Nothing seemed to work out; page after page showed a final note at the bottom reading simply “no”.
When he’d finally hit upon a business that he could run single-handed, his writing, usually so neat and compact, had seemed to swell with excitement. The printing grew larger, sloppier, and less controlled as he had neared the bottom of the page. If he set up a cheesemaking shop he wouldn’t need a lot of land. He wouldn’t need to hire help. He just needed to start with a cow. Several lines of figures added up to a nice profit at the bottom, and the final note was now an exuberant “YES!!”
As Kate looked more closely, however, she could see that a large X had been lightly drawn in pencil across the page, as if to obliterate the entire plan. She turned the page and found a few lines written there:
Regardless of the profit, no plan will be a success while I remain alone. Concentrate on the real gains to be made.
Kate closed the journal and looked over to Sam. You’re not alone anymore, my love, she thought. And you’d better make room for me in your plans. She couldn’t guess what might be waiting for them together, but at the same time she didn’t even care. With Sam at her side, she would be ready for anything. She could feel the blood pounding in her veins, either from the excitement of starting a life with Sam or from the heat of the cabin, and took another sip of water to cool herself.
A cough in his sleep made Sam tremble, and the excitement faded away as she remembered the long recovery that he had in front of him. I should check on him. As Kate stood up, the glass leaped out of her hand, landing with a thud on the rug. The water poured between the floorboards and all she could do was stare mutely at the mess. It was as if she had shrunk inside herself; Kate felt like some gauze had descended over her, making it harder to see and even hear. What’s happening to me? She ran a hand over her forehead and was surprised to find her skin slick with perspiration. Something’s not right. I feel sick.
“Sam,” she called out, but the voice she heard was not her own. It came out in a whisper that floated away without being heard. The room felt as if it were spinning, and Kate dropped down to one knee. I just need to get to him and everything will be all right. He’ll save me. He always does. “Sam,” she said again, her voice a paper-thin croak, but he remained motionless in the bed, fast asleep. She reached out toward him, but he was entirely too far away. Come on, Katie, just get over there, she thought as she gathered all the strength she had and struggled to her feet again, swaying like a cornstalk in the wind.
She took one step toward the bed, then another. Everything faded into darkness around her as she then collapsed onto the floor, and the room was silent again.