They laughed together and Luke went on.
“Ma turned around and gestured for us not to say anything. All the way to church we talked and kept using expressions like ‘let the cat out of the bag’ and ‘cat got your tongue’! We finally just lost it, and Pa figured out what was going on when Ma pointed to his back.” He shook his head, still laughing. “Amos had to stay in the wagon during church, but he must’ve liked it, because every Sunday after that, he tried the same thing! Never did see such a cat!”
“I had no idea cats were so clever,” she said as she stroked the tiger-striped feline. “My dog Blackie is the sweetest thing, but he’s nowhere near that clever.”
And so their conversation was steered toward animals. Sara was glad they weren’t going to talk about Luke’s parents, because she didn’t want to make him sad. Hetty had told her that his folks had died two years earlier, leaving Luke, Caleb, and Elizabeth to run the ranch on their own.
Sara was developing a headache, but she enjoyed Luke’s company while they ate. He praised her cooking and made her laugh over and over. The meal passed surprisingly quickly, and when Sara consulted her timepiece, she was surprised to see that it was after 1:00. Luke helped her gather the plates and utensils and thanked her for the meal. They parted ways, and Sara looked about for Hetty. Her head was throbbing, and she hoped Hetty was ready to go home. When she spotted her under a shade tree with Gus, she made her way over to them.
“Having a good time, Sara?” Gus asked.
“It was a lovely time, but to be perfectly honest, I’ve developed a wretched headache, and I was wondering if you would mind if we left now, Hetty.”
“Not at all, dear. In fact, I was just waitin’ for you and Luke to finish up.”
Gus carried the baskets to the wagon for them. As they walked, Sara was relieved to see Nathan talking to Mrs. Reed. At least he wasn’t with Mara anymore.
Hetty must have noticed how quiet Sara was on the way home, for she began to talk to her about it. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine, I’m sure. I just need to lie down a while.”
Hetty pressed on. “It sure is a shame you didn’t get to share your lunch with Nathan. I know you worked real hard on it.”
“Yes, well. . .Luke was good company and very appreciative of the food. Besides, I’m sure Nathan ate well, also.” This last part was said with ill-disguised sarcasm.
Hetty, who was nothing if not perceptive, picked up on it.
“It was an accident, you know. At least on Nathan’s part. Now Mara, on the other hand. . .well, I wouldn’t put it past her to do somethin’ so underhanded. She never made her feelings for Nathan a secret.”
Sara was skeptical of Hetty’s explanation. Her heart was in the right place, but she didn’t have all the facts. She let the matter drop and watched the scenery go by. The clouds had multiplied since morning, and the temperature felt a bit cool now that the sun was veiled. The trees were waving in rhythm to the beat of the wind.
Sara drew in a breath and let out a sigh. She was deeply troubled over this thing going on between Nathan and Mara, and she didn’t understand how Nathan could carry on in such a manner. He was a Christian, after all. There was a lot she didn’t know about the Bible, but she did know that a man ought not give affection to a woman other than his wife.
She couldn’t figure him out. He had been so kind to her lately, and the kiss at Willow Spring had been wonderful beyond words. At least for her.
A thought burst into her mind, causing an ache in her gut. What if she had been the only one enjoying that kiss? After all, he was the one who had ended it. And there hadn’t been a second kiss. Perhaps he was only trying to make the best of their situation, and she was making too much of it. These thoughts discouraged her. She didn’t want to fall in love with her husband if he was not going to love her in return! How awful to spend the rest of your life married to a man who didn’t love you! Oh, please, God—don’t let that happen to me!
Once they were home, Sara lay down and napped for a short time. When she awoke, she noted that her headache had dulled and the house was quiet. She went downstairs and found she was alone. The afternoon was spent in rare leisure, reading and quilting.
Hetty came in when it was time to get supper ready. They began eating when the men weren’t home by a quarter past six, and they were still eating when Nathan and Gus came in. The ladies served up the plates, but it was Hetty who carried the conversation throughout the meal.
Sara knew she shouldn’t be so withdrawn, but she was still smarting from the social that afternoon. No, it was more than that. She was hurting from this whole business between Nathan and Mara. Whether or not Nathan’s bid on Mara’s lunch was an accident didn’t really matter.
She understood that Nathan would have married Mara if that were possible. But it didn’t work out, so in order to save his ranch, he’d married Sara. She could accept that if it had ended there. But it hadn’t. He’d married Sara—committed himself to her in the eyes of God—and now he was being unfaithful to her. He shouldn’t have married her at all if he was unwilling to keep his vows.
Sara excused herself from the table and began washing the dishes while the others finished. She didn’t see the look of concern that passed among the three at the table.
Hetty and Gus left shortly after, and Nathan settled himself in the main room with a book. The last thing Sara wanted was to be alone with him, so she decided to have a bath. She started the water heating on the stove and collected her nightgown. The kitchen door shut, she stripped off her clothes and sank into the large tin tub. She soaked for an hour, washing her hair and stalling, and when her skin was wrinkled and drawn, she emerged from the water. She hoped Nathan would be in bed. However, when she left the kitchen, she saw that was not the case.
Her long hair hung down her back in damp curls—wetting the thin white gown—as she padded barefoot to the stairs. She hoped she could go to bed without being noticed. She made it to the second step.
“Sara?”
She stopped on the step, but didn’t turn around. “Yes, what is it?”
“I’d like to explain about this afternoon. . .”
“There’s really nothing to talk about.”
“You’ve been so quiet tonight. I’m sorry I didn’t get to share your lunch. I want you to understand—”
“I understand perfectly, Nathan!” she shot out. “Good night.”
She ascended the stairs quickly, leaving Nathan to stare after her with a familiar crease between his brows.
seventeen
The next week passed quickly. Hetty and Sara invited Luke, Caleb, and Elizabeth to supper one night. The brothers were entertaining company, to say the least.
Luke was a storyteller, whereas Caleb was the charmer. His looks were boyish compared to his older brother’s, but he had a way of making people feel special. Sara imagined the young ladies were drawn to his chivalrous manner.
Little Elizabeth was a chatterbox. Her brown hair was plaited down both sides of her face, and her skin was browned from playing outdoors. Esther, the lady who watched Elizabeth and took care of the house, was given a rare evening off.
They had such a good time that Sara and Hetty promised to have them over again soon.
Nathan and Sara had fallen into their old pattern of avoiding one another. Sara was hurt over his betrayal, and she asked God every night to help her deal with her feelings. She didn’t care to spend time with him and risk coming to care for him more. Therefore, each evening they went their separate ways.
If Hetty noticed the dissension between the two, she didn’t say anything about it. The tension wasn’t obvious when they were all together, at any rate. When Sara and Nathan were alone, however, strained silence loomed around them. Sara busied herself with a book or sewing in the evening, and Nathan usually read. He did try on several occasions to restore the
harmony between them, and Sara recognized those attempts for what they were.
By the end of the week she wondered if her detachment was a good idea. Nathan had begun to sit on the porch in the evenings, and Sara knew she was only driving him away—probably straight into Mara’s arms.
She was pondering this possibility the next day as she rode Jenny through the pastures of bluestem grass. It was her first ride since she and Nathan had gone to the spring, and the fresh air was clearing her mind. She longed for the companionship she had shared with her husband such a short time ago.
She prayed as she rode back to the house that God would mend the rift between them and cause Nathan to end his relationship with Mara. She also thanked Him for the freedom she had from her stepfather.
Sara would remember with startling clarity the swiftness with which God answered the first part of that prayer.
The next day she and Hetty worked in the garden. Sara knelt down to extract a particularly stubborn weed. The ground was dry, and the dust had settled in her throat, hair, and clothes.
The garden required almost constant care, but the fruits of this labor were becoming evident with each new lime-colored plant that pushed its way through the warm soil. Soon there would be potatoes, peas, onions, and many other delicious vegetables. Sara’s mouth watered at the thought, dampening her parched mouth. She needed a nice cool drink.
She had just pulled herself up to a standing position when the pounding of horse’s hooves drew her attention. The rider was coming in at a fast pace. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hetty rise to her feet and shield her eyes from the sun.
As the rider drew nearer, Sara identified him as Gus; but to her horror, she also saw a body draped across his lap.
“Dear Lord,” she whispered, running to meet Gus at the front of the house. Her heart bottomed out as anxiety kicked in. She uttered an unintelligible prayer and knew dread when she recognized the heap on Gus’s lap.
“What happened?”
Gus pulled back the reins and was dismounting before the horse halted. “He got gored by a bull. Open the door!”
Sara rushed to comply as Hetty rounded the corner. “Is he all right?”
“I don’t know.” Gus staggered up the stairs under the weight of his load.
Hetty gathered towels and set some water to boil while Sara followed Gus. He laid Nathan on top of the quilt, and Sara saw for the first time the extent of Nathan’s injury. His shirt was saturated with blood and ripped where the bull’s horn had torn into his flesh. She stood trembling while Gus placed his fingers on Nathan’s neck to check for a pulse.
“He’s alive. Pulse is faint. I’m goin’ after Doc Hathaway.” He rushed past a rigid Sara and stopped in the doorway. “It doesn’t look good, Sara,” he said gently before clamoring down the stairs and out the door.
Sara rushed to her husband’s side and removed the shirt. Blood was flowing from the wound. Helplessness and despair closed in upon her like fog smothering a deep valley.
“Hetty!”
She heard footsteps bustling up the steps, and then Hetty hurried into the room with an armload of towels.
“I don’t know what to do! He’s bleeding, and I don’t know what to do!”
Hetty put a towel over the wound and pressed against it with steady pressure. “Here, keep pushin’ to stanch the blood flow.” She left the room, and Sara pressed on the towels with most of her weight.
Please, God, don’t take him from me. He doesn’t even know how I feel! Please!
Sara didn’t know how long she pressed on the wound. When the blood soaked through, she added another towel and kept pressing. Hetty came in with a jar of liquid, and a pot of boiled water, then scurried away after checking the wound. She soon returned with nearly every lamp in the house and had just finished lighting them when Gus came in, followed by Doc Hathaway.
After seeing that the bleeding had almost stopped, he asked the others to leave the room while he examined Nathan. Leaving her husband at that moment was one of the hardest things Sara had ever had to do.
Hetty grasped her arm. “Come on, dear. You’ve done everything you can do. Let Doc do his job.” She guided Sara into the hallway. Gus shut the door behind him, and upon seeing Sara’s tear-streaked face, he withdrew his handkerchief and offered it to her. She just stared at it, her mind too muddled to understand. Hetty took it and mopped the tears Sara had been unaware of.
They huddled together on the top stair, where they prayed and talked but mostly sat in silence, waiting for a word of hope. The doctor seemed to be taking forever.
At last the door opened, and the doctor emerged with a grim face. They all rose to their feet and looked at him with such desperation that he appeared to find his next words difficult to say.
“I’m afraid things don’t look very good. He lost a lot of blood. Fortunately, the lungs weren’t punctured. I fixed him up the best I could. But as I said, he lost a great deal of blood. The next twenty-four hours are critical. Try to force him to drink if he wakes. He needs to replace the blood he lost. The sooner he regains consciousness, the better.”
“Isn’t there more we can do?” Sara’s glassy eyes pleaded.
“Pray. Pray that he hasn’t lost too much blood, and then pray that infection doesn’t set in.”
“May I sit with him?”
“By all means. In fact, someone should be with him round-the-clock. If he awakens, give him liquids—broth and such.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” she whispered before entering Nathan’s room.
Nathan lay unnaturally still on the bed. The doctor had put a blanket over him, and it was tucked under his chin. The harsh lighting made his features appear pasty white. It reminded her of her mother’s appearance when she lay dead in her coffin. She pushed the thought from her mind and concentrated on the shallow rise and fall of his chest that reassured her of the life in his body.
She walked to his side and touched his face with hands that trembled. His skin was warm to the touch, and for the first time she allowed herself to caress the face she’d come to love.
“Nathan, you have to fight,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me now. Not when I’ve just realized. . .” She broke off as a sob burst forth.
Please, God, help him! Give him the strength to come through. And if You should desire to take him home with You, help me to bear the pain!
Sara pulled a chair up to the large bed, not wanting to jostle him, and sat holding his hand for a long time. Hetty brought lunch in to her, but she couldn’t eat. She just talked to him, hoping he would somehow hear her and open his eyes, but her hope began to wane as the sun set and darkness fell. She had turned down all the lamps but one, and it seemed to cast an eerie glow on the room.
Hetty came in quietly and touched her shoulder. “Why don’t you go lie down for a while, Sara? I’ll sit with him.”
“Thanks, Hetty, but I don’t want to leave him.” She looked at her with pain-filled eyes. “I have to be here in case he wakes up.”
Hetty nodded. “I understand. I’m gonna sleep on the settee. I’ll be downstairs if ya need anything.”
“Thanks.”
Sara dozed off and on that night, her hand resting on Nathan’s. At one point she thought she felt him move and she bolted upright, studying his features. When nothing happened after several minutes, she leaned back and drifted off again, thinking she must have imagined it.
Hours later, the patter of rain against the windowpane roused Sara from a deep sleep. Her head was cocked to the side at an awkward angle, and she grimaced as she straightened her body.
Morning light flooded through the window, enabling her to see that Nathan’s face had regained some color. She let her hand stroke his jawline, and the prickle of whiskers teased her fingers.
“Nathan?” she said.
Disappointment settled inside her at his lac
k of response. She had hoped a full night’s rest would restore his body.
A clap of thunder sounded, and Sara praised God for the rain they’d all been praying for. She knew if circumstances had been different, the sound of rain would have sent the four friends laughing and dancing. As it was, the event no longer held such importance.
There was a quiet knock at the door, then Hetty entered with a tray of food.
“Any change?” Hetty asked.
“He hasn’t awakened, but I think his color is better.”
“Yes, it is. That’s good.” She laid the tray on the desk. “I know you prob’ly don’t feel like eatin’, but you need to keep up your strength if you’re gonna be tendin’ to Nathan.”
“I am hungry, thanks.”
Hetty handed her some bandaging supplies. “Doc left these. He said to change the bandages in the mornin’ and evenin’.”
“I will.”
Gus stuck his head in the door. “How’s he doin’?”
“His color’s better, but no change other than that,” Hetty said.
“You holdin’ up, Sara?”
“I’m fine. Your wife’s taking good care of me.”
“Good. I’ve got chores waitin’. . .better get to ’em.”
Hetty left shortly after Gus. Sara’s rumbling stomach sent her to the plate of pancakes Hetty had brought. It had been twenty-four hours since her last meal, so she made quick work of the food. After eating, she went about changing Nathan’s bandage. The doctor had cleaned the wound well, and Sara could see the line of tiny stitches that closed the skin. There was dried blood in the area surrounding the injury, so Sara used water from the pitcher to clean him gently. This was the first time she’d seen her husband without his shirt, and she admired his well-muscled chest as she worked.
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