The big cat watched her with its enormous eyes as it lay at the foot of the bed. Suddenly it yawned, revealing white teeth and a red mouth, then got up, stretched, and leaped off the bed. It came over to her and tapped at her calf, saying, “Wow!”
“‘Wow’ yourself,” Sabrina said. She picked the cat up, tucked it over her shoulder, and stroked its fur. “I haven’t got time to fool with you today.” She put the cat down, finished dressing, and left the room. The stairs creaked ominously and sagged as she went downstairs, and for a moment she was afraid the whole structure would collapse. But she reached the first floor of the inn safely and found the dining room, where she saw Sion eating his breakfast.
When he saw her, he rose and said, “Good morning. The food’s good here, miss.”
Sabrina sat down and thought, This may be the first time I’ve ever sat down with a servant. She gave Sion a brief good-morning, and when Mrs. Fredrickson brought her a plate, she began to eat hungrily. The breakfast consisted of thick slices of bacon with a strong flavor, spiced bread with a large bowl of butter, and battered eggs. The coffee was so strong it was bitter, but she had eaten little the day before and knew she needed all the strength she could get.
Sion spoke of America cheerfully as she ate. “The people here are rough, but some of them are helpful enough. I met a man last night named Nate Strother. He’s been west.”
Sabrina asked, “Did he tell you anything about the best way to get to my land?”
“He said the best way would be to take the stagecoach, but it doesn’t go all the way. After Nate and I had dinner we ran into Mr. Satterfield—remember our driver from yesterday? He said the stage leaves at ten o’clock this morning, and there’s still room on it. Nate says the thing to do when the stage gets to the end of the line is to buy a wagon and some horses.”
“But we don’t know how to get there.”
“He said there’d be plenty of people headed that way, and the best thing would be to join ourselves to a group already going. That way,” he added, “it would be more protection from Indians.”
The two finished their meal, and as Sabrina tried to think of what to do next, a big man entered the room. He was wearing buckskins and had on a strange-looking cap with a ringed tail hanging down from the back. He had a full set of black whiskers and a pair of bold black eyes. He spotted Sabrina and came over to say, “Well, howdy. My name’s Zeke Thomason.”
Sabrina could not speak, she was so surprised. She gave the man one look, then coolly returned her gaze to Sion.
“Well, ain’t you a pretty one,” the man said. He moved around the table so she would have to face him, and at that instant Sion stood up. He was not as large as the American, and the loose clothes he wore disguised the muscular strength of his body.
“Best move on, I suppose, friend,” he said quietly.
Thomason stared at him. “You tellin’ me to leave?”
“I think it would be wise.”
Thomason laughed. “You don’t know who you’re talkin’ to. I’m Zeke Thomason. Half man, half alligator. Most men with half a brain wouldn’t be talkin’ to me like that. I reckon I’ll just carve myself a steak out of you, fancy man!”
“All right, Zeke, that’s enough.”
Thomason turned to see the innkeeper, who was wiping his hands on his apron.
“Sit down and eat or git!”
Thomason seemed to be weighing the alternatives in his mind. Then he laughed. “Sure, Fredrickson. No problem. I just wanted to pass the time of day with these two limeys.”
As the man left, Sabrina turned and smiled. “Thank you. He was beginning to be a bore.”
“He’s a rough one,” Fredrickson said, “but he won’t bother you anymore.”
“The food was very good. Tell your wife I enjoyed it.”
“I’ll do that. You two are headed out, I take it?”
“We’re thinking about it.”
“You’ll see lots of his kind out there if you head west. They’re a pretty rough bunch, those hunters.”
Fredrickson turned and left, and Sion took his seat again. As he sat down, Sabrina was thinking of what she would have done if he had not been there or if Fredrickson had not come.
Without meaning to, she blurted out, “I can’t make up my mind.”
“It’s a hard choice for you.”
“What if we get all the way out there and find out there’s something wrong with the title and I can’t get the land?”
Sion shrugged his shoulders. “Then we’ll have to do something else.”
“But I don’t have much money, and I don’t have a living soul there who cares for me.”
Sion tilted his head to one side the way he sometimes did. “You will have two who care what happens to you, miss.”
“Two? What do you mean? I don’t know a soul.”
“Well, you’ll have God. He knows about you. And then, of course, you’ll have me.”
Sabrina felt strangely comforted by this. The sense of loneliness that had built up in her for weeks was a dark specter that always stood close. And now this kind man who was really a stranger to her had brought comfort simply with a few words. She looked across the table at him and considered his appearance as if seeing him for the first time. She guessed his height at six feet, and although rough and durable, he was very attractive and had a gentle face. He had brown eyes and he always kept his wavy light brown hair pulled back neatly behind his head. She remembered how smooth and strong his muscles had looked when he had been stripped for the fight in the ring. She sensed there was a strength in the inner man of Sion Kenyon, and it gave her comfort to know that she had chosen well when she had decided to help him.
“That’s kind of you. You really believe that about God caring for each one of us, don’t you, Sion?”
“Why, of course I do!”
“I’m glad you do. I hope you always will.”
“Don’t you believe it, Miss Fairfax?”
“I’d like to, but it’s hard sometimes.” She shook her head, trying to shove away the doubts, and said, “Tell me more about Nate Strother and what he said.”
Sion leaned forward and for the next ten minutes told her the essence of Strother’s information. He finished by saying, “It’s not my place to say so, but from what you’ve told me about yourself and your past, I’d say God’s opened up a door for you. There’s nothing for you in England, is there?”
“No. There isn’t.” Sabrina knew she was at a juncture in her life. It was as if she had come down a path and arrived at a fork in the road. Now she would need to choose the best way. She kept her eyes fixed on Sion. He seemed to be a good man, but who could tell? What would he be like when they were away from civilization?
Finally, in desperation, she made the decision. “All right, Sion, we’ll go.” But even as she spoke, fear came over her.
Sion said cheerfully with a nod, “That’s fine. We’d better get ready. The stage leaves in two hours.”
Sabrina didn’t like making such an important decision so quickly, but she knew she couldn’t delay making the choice. “All right,” she said quietly, “I’ll make sure there’s still room on it.”
“U.S. Territory South of the River Ohio. The name sounds pretty, doesn’t it? I bet it’ll be a pretty place, too.” Sion smiled, and as always, the smile lightened his face. “I’m thinking you’ll like it there, miss. It’s a good, new land. It may be a little hard, but we’ll make it.”
Sabrina was encouraged by Sion’s use of the word we. She knew it would have offended her back in England when she was a lady of property to have a servant enjoin himself with her, but now she took a deep breath and said, “I hope so, Sion—I surely hope so!”
Chapter Eleven
New Acquaintances
Whatever pleasant anticipation of the journey Sabrina had entertained did not last longer than an hour after the stagecoach left the station. The driver, a tall, taciturn man with a droopy mustache and a pair of sad-looking e
yes, had watched as they all boarded. There were eight passengers, and when she got aboard, Sabrina found that the accommodations were of a spartan simplicity. Three benches without backs were fastened to the floor, and she chose the backseat so she could at least face forward. The other passengers quickly filled the seats, and a very fat man put himself down beside her, saying, “Good day for travel.”
Sabrina murmured her agreement and noted that Sion had chosen a middle seat. His back was to her, and he seemed relaxed, which she was not.
No sooner had she gotten settled than she heard the stage driver call out to the horses, and the coach surged ahead. The three passengers on the middle seat were caught off guard so that they all tumbled backward. Sion tried to catch himself, she saw, but the start was too powerful, and he was thrown back against her knees. The other passengers on the middle seat sprawled backward also, and one of them, a short, muscular man, began to curse.
“Sorry, miss,” Sion said. He laughed and winked at her. “A spirited beginning to our journey, isn’t it?” Sabrina wedged herself against the side, for the large man was spilling over against her. It was not intentional, she knew, for the seat was barely long enough to accommodate three average-sized individuals. I’ve got to spend at least two days, maybe three, in this awful coach. The thought pressed against her and was so depressing that she simply sat there looking out the window for the next two hours.
The scenery that flowed by was not spectacular and soon became very boring. The coach was passing through mostly farmland, where the fields stretched away on either side, broken only by farmhouses and barns and fields fenced in for cattle.
It had been a dry spring, evidently, for the horses and the wheels of the coach stirred up dust, which boiled around the coach. She leaned out the window just enough to see that the wheels were lifting the dust in ropy, dripping sheets that rolled up into gauze clouds that finally settled over the trees that lined the road. Most of it was left behind, but the residue from the horses ahead drifted in through the open windows, leaving a fine but gritty dust on all the passengers and everything inside the coach. From time to time Sabrina tried to clean her face with her handkerchief, but it was almost a hopeless task.
There was only one other woman on the coach, who sat in the front seat facing backward. She appeared to be in her sixties and must have been a workingwoman, for the discomfort of the journey did not seem to trouble her. She chatted amiably with her husband, who sat beside her, the two often laughing. Once, she saw the man reach over and hold her hand. How nice. I hope when I’ve been married as long as they have, my husband will still want to hold my hand. She smiled at the thought, and at that moment Sion turned around and caught her smile. He turned to see what she was smiling at, and when he saw the couple holding hands, he twisted in his seat and leaned backward to whisper, “There’s still a little romance in the world, isn’t there.”
At that moment the coach hit a deep hole, throwing all the passengers roughly to the left. The fat man’s weight nearly crushed Sabrina, and he shook his head and apologized. “Sorry about that. These roads are terrible.”
The horses pulled the coach steadily, and as the morning wore on, Sabrina was beginning to think she could not stand much more of this. Her legs were stiff, and her seat was numb from the pounding of the unpadded bench. Even though it wasn’t hot outside—it was actually quite comfortable—the sun was beating down on the carriage, and she was absolutely miserable. In despair she wiped her face and blew her nose, for the fine dust crept into her nostrils and lungs. There was no avoiding the rolling of the stage. It seemed almost as bad as being on board the ship. The stage rolled along, striking holes and occasionally the rocky bottom of a creek, which tilted upward, throwing the passengers violently around. By noon everyone’s face was slick with oil, and the smell of the coach had become rank as the odors of stale sweat mingled in the small space. She steeled herself and tried to ignore the discomfort.
Finally the coach slowed, and Sion looked out the window. “A station,” he said. “It looks like we’re going to make a stop.”
The coach did pull up, and the driver called out, “Thirty-minute stop!”
The passengers disembarked, and Sion was there to help her to the ground. They were at an abandoned house, but there was a well, and Sion went at once to it and primed it. He filled a tin cup with water and offered it to Sabrina. “Wash a little of the dust down,” he said gently.
Taking the cup, Sabrina drank thirstily. She drained the contents of the cup twice and then handed it back, saying, “I’ve never felt so grimy in all my life.”
“It’s rough going. We’ll just have to hold on.” He drank a cup himself and then handed the cup to the big man. He turned to Sabrina and said, “Let’s get a little exercise. It may be night before we stop again.”
Sabrina nodded, and the two walked alongside the back of the house. A large grove of trees banked the small field, but there was no stock grazing. They walked silently along the edge of the field. Sion finally said, “This is a little rough right now, but I think it’s a little exciting.”
Sabrina laughed without joy. “Exciting! I don’t know how you can say that. It’s miserable and uncomfortable.”
“It is for you, miss. You’re used to the finer things.” He reached down and picked a small flower. “This is pretty, isn’t it?” He studied it as if it had some great meaning before letting it fall to the earth. “It’s not so bad on me. After being down in a coal mine, anything is comfortable.”
“I suppose you’ve had a very hard life.”
“Not as bad as some, but I’m glad to be out of the mines. And I’m glad not to be fighting anymore.”
“You say you did that to help some friends of yours who were in trouble?”
“Yes. Very good friends.”
“What are their names? How did you meet them?”
Sion glanced at her with surprise, then quickly told her of how he had met the Grufydds. As he spoke, the sun was putting fingers of light through the trees. The taller trees were shouldering the sun out of the way, and a breeze was blowing, which was refreshing after the heat of the coach. A bird with a blue back, white belly, and pointed head appeared before them, and they both turned to watch it. “What kind of bird is that, I wonder? We don’t have those in Wales.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know much about birds.”
Finally they stopped and looked back and realized that they had walked quite a distance; the coach and the houses seemed to have shrunk. The passengers were all walking around stretching their legs. As they started back, Sabrina asked, “Do you have any good memories, Sion?”
“Why, of course I do. Lots of them. Mostly my head’s stocked with good little things. It’s kind of like a picture gallery. When I want to think of something pleasant, I go into the gallery, and I take out a picture and look at it.”
Sabrina was intrigued at his poetic imagination. “I’ve never heard anything like that. Can you really do that?”
Sion turned to her and lifted one brow. “Aye, that I can. For example, I remember once when I was passing by a confectionery store with candy and pies and things like that in the window. There was a little girl standing there staring at the candy trays, and I stopped and looked with her. The look on her face touched me, maybe because I’d stood in front of windows myself and wanted something very badly.”
“What did you do?”
“Oh, I went inside and bought a sack of candy and gave it to her. She was very shy, but I pressed it on her. She smiled at me and held the candy to her breast as if it were some great treasure of diamonds or gold.” A smile turned the corners of his lips upward. “The candy only cost a few pence, but every time I think of that I get my money’s worth again.”
“That’s nice,” Sabrina murmured.
After a moment of quiet, Sion said, “I wish you wouldn’t worry so much, miss. I know it’s troubled, you are. Things will be all right.”
Sabrina turned to glance at hi
m. He was a very intuitive man, she had learned. A small gust of expression crossed her face as she said, “I’ve had things too easy.”
“Well, I’ve had things too hard, so I suppose we make a good average, don’t we?”
Sabrina laughed, and some of the weight lifted from her. “My mother told me that when I was a baby she would take me outside at night when the moon was full and lay me on my back on the grass. She said I always reached for the moon, as if I could reach up and get it. That I never learned any better.” She shook her head and added quietly, “I’ve learned that you can’t reach out and get things like that.”
“Sometimes you can. I know life gets hard, but things work out sometimes. Why, look at me. I was headed to jail for ten years of misery, but along came Miss Sabrina Fairfax. And now I’m in America, where a man has a chance. I’m strong and healthy, and I’ve got the most agreeable, attractive employer I’ve ever had in my life. You should have seen some of the ugly ones I had.”
Sabrina quickly glanced at him to see if he was flirting, but there was only a pleasant smile on his face, and she knew it was merely his way. “I’m glad you feel like that, Sion. I’ll try not to burden you with my gloomy ways.”
“Not blaming you, I am,” Sion said quickly. “I think you’re learning to catch grace.”
“‘Catch grace’? What does that mean?”
“Why, I think a man—or a woman—catches grace in the same way a man fills his cup under a waterfall. God’s grace is all around us. We just have to hold our cups out to catch it.”
The two returned to the coach and drank some more cold water from the well before the driver called out, “Time to move out!” As she took her seat, Sabrina thought, What in the world would I do without Sion? I’d be lost. She braced herself as the coach started and tried to forget about the hardship of the next few hours.
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