She’d just rinsed the washcloth when she heard a low moan. Her head snapped around, and she watched as his eyelids fluttered.
“Nathan? Nathan!” Flinging aside the washcloth, she rushed to his side. “Nathan, open your eyes!” His eyelids fluttered again, encouraging her to continue her efforts. She put her hands on his face. “Nathan, it’s Sara. Open your eyes and look at me!” He groaned again and turned toward her. “That’s it! Come on, look at me.” His eyes opened the tiniest bit and closed again. “Nathan McClain, now you listen to me! I want you to open your eyes this instant!”
It seemed to take supreme effort, but seconds later, tired gray eyes were staring into hers.
“That’s it, Nate. How are you feeling?”
He wet his lips and closed his eyes for an instant. “Thirsty,” he said with a scratchy voice.
“Oh! Here, let me get you some water.” She poured a glass and took it to him. She tried to help him lift his head, but the strain on his stomach caused him to moan. Hetty must have heard the commotion, for she rushed in.
“Hetty, can you help me prop him up?”
Between the two of them, they were able to get two pillows under his head. Sara gave him the water and addressed Hetty. “Do you have that broth ready? The doctor said that would be best.”
Hetty hurried to get it, but Nathan had no sooner rested his head on the pillows again than he fell sound asleep.
eighteen
Sara was eating lunch when Nathan awoke again. She shoved her tray aside and went to him. “Hello there. Do you want some water?”
He nodded, and she helped him drink. His eyes were on her when she returned with more water.
“What happened?” His voice was hoarse from lack of use.
“It was a bull. You don’t remember?”
His eyes shut. “Yeah, I remember now.” His eyes opened again. “When?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“What time is it?”
“Noon. You’ve been asleep twenty-four hours. Are you in much pain?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
Hetty brought the broth in then, and Sara fed it to him while Hetty checked his wound. As soon as Hetty took the bowl, Nathan dropped off to sleep.
❧
Nathan’s condition improved over the next few days. He spent more time awake, and his appetite caught up with him.
At midweek, Doc Hathaway came to check on him and shook his head in wonder at Nathan’s quick recovery. They all attributed it to the many prayers that had been lifted up for him. The doctor warned him that his body would require more time to heal, and admonished him to stay in bed for another week.
Nathan became a testy patient as he headed into his second week of confinement. Sara didn’t take it personally, for she knew Nathan wasn’t accustomed to being idle. His energy had returned and, except for the soreness in his middle, he felt like his old self. However, Sara was determined to follow the doctor’s orders.
Even after all his complaining, she was not prepared to see him sitting on the settee when she came in from the garden. His breathing was labored, and his face was sallow. His mutinous gaze collided with hers.
“Nathan McClain! What in the world do you think you’re doing, coming down those stairs by yourself? Why, to just think what could’ve happened—and me outside!”
She saw amusement flicker in his eyes. “You’re beginning to sound like Hetty!” Sara flushed, and he continued. “Now, there’s no sense in me lying in bed all day. I’m not up to ranching just yet, but there’s no reason why I can’t rest here on the settee. I’m as bored as a man can be up there!”
Sara considered his words, knowing he would find his own way downstairs if he wanted to. “All right. Just promise me you’ll let someone help you up and down the stairs.”
“It’s a deal,” he said, smiling.
She headed upstairs. “I’ll just go get your pillows and book.”
Nathan shook his head and muttered, “A regular mother hen.”
❧
That night Sara lay in her bed with her eyes closed, but sleep would not come. She used the time to talk to God and, after a while, the Lord brought Pete to her mind. Sara’s eyes snapped open when she realized that there was no anger in her heart. She deliberately thought of him again—thought of the awful way he treated her and her mother—and waited for the anger that usually rushed in.
It didn’t come.
She lay staring at the ceiling in wonder. She didn’t know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, her anger had drained away. I forgive him, Lord. Thank You for taking away my anger. Sara’s mouth turned up in a contented smile.
❧
Sara felt a new serenity. Her heart was at peace, and the rift between herself and Nathan was gone. Things were getting back to normal—except Nathan was confined to the house. She secretly delighted in his constant presence, although she knew it wouldn’t last much longer; he was getting stir-crazy.
Friends and neighbors came calling to see for themselves that Nathan was on the mend. Many of the men offered to help Gus on the ranch, and he obligingly accepted. Laura and Mrs. Reed came by, as did Reverend Hill and his wife and, of course, Luke, Caleb, and Elizabeth. Visitors were to be expected at a time like this, and Sara greeted them at the door with a broad smile.
However, the welcome expression fled from her face one evening when Sara opened the door to find Mara standing there. She looked innocent-as-you-please in her fine clothing. She did not wear a hat, leaving her gold-spun hair to spill around her shoulders. Mara’s chin tipped up, reminding Sara of her manners.
“Good evening, Mara. How may I help you?”
Her blue eyes widened. “Why, I’m here to see Nathan, of course.”
Knowing Nathan was on the settee, Sara had no choice but to step aside and allow Mara to enter.
Upon seeing him, Mara gushed, “Oh, Nathan! I’ve been so worried about you! You poor dear. How wretched you must feel!”
Knowing it was the height of rudeness but not caring, Sara exited through the kitchen door without even offering tea. Mara had made it obvious that she felt Sara needed some lessons in etiquette anyway.
Sara walked in the woods beside the house. She was accompanied by Blackie, who ran ahead, then stopped and turned toward her abruptly, his tail waving in the air. He was in the mood to play, but Sara wasn’t.
Things had been going so well. Nathan had resumed his nightly pecks on the forehead, and she was beginning to think he cared for her. She knew she cared for him—loved him. She had realized it while he was lying so close to death. Her heart ached at the thought of Nathan and Mara in the house alone.
She suddenly stiffened her back. That woman had no right to be in Sara’s house alone with her husband!
She marched back to the house and was just about to yank open the side door when she heard the front door opening. She paused on the step, relieved to be avoiding Mara altogether. Her heart froze when she heard Mara’s parting words.
“I’ll see you next Friday evening then, Nathan. Good-bye until then.”
Sara drew in a sharp breath. It couldn’t be what it sounded like! It just couldn’t! But it is, she thought as she sank down on the cool step. He was meeting her next Friday. Numbness flowed through her veins, mercifully filling the hole that had been gnawed within her.
She sat there until long after the carriage had clattered away. Darkness had descended upon the valley and Sara knew Nathan would want to go to bed soon. The tears had long since stopped flowing, but she wiped away any evidence of them with the hem of her gown and went inside.
There was a single lamp burning on the table beside Nathan. He turned toward her when the door clicked shut, and she saw that the light reflected off one side of his face, producing a warm glow. The shadows enhanced hi
s angular jawline and, even from a distance, she could see the flickering of his eyes.
“I was beginning to worry,” he said.
She moved into the room and stopped a good distance away from him. “I went for a walk.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Is something wrong? If it’s about Mara coming—”
“No. No, nothing’s wrong. I just lost track of the time. Would you like some help upstairs?”
“Sure. Yeah. Think you could help me up?”
Sara walked to stand in front of him and took his hands when he held them out. This had been her method of helping him stand since the accident. She would lean back with all her weight and thus lever him up to standing.
Tonight, however, when she leaned back, Blackie passed behind her and she lost her footing. Nathan, who was nearly upright, pulled her toward him to keep her from falling backward. Their bodies came together with a thud, and Nathan brought his hands around her back to steady her.
The impact caused him to grunt, and she searched his face. “Are you all right?”
His smoky eyes fixed on hers, and she trembled under his heated gaze. “I’m fine,” he whispered.
Sara watched in a daze as his head lowered. His eyes remained open as he brushed her lips with his own. Never had she experienced anything as moving as this.
His lips returned to hers, desperate, like a starving man at a potluck supper. She feasted with him, savoring every crumb, until doubts slowly began to creep in. He was kissing her, but was he loving Mara? Was he imagining she was Mara even now? Tears gathered behind her lids, and she choked back a sob as she pushed against his shoulders.
Her eyes were trained on his shirt, but she felt his reluctance to withdraw.
“Sara?” he said, tipping her chin up until he could read the misery in her eyes. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head, dislodging his hand. “No. I–I’m just tired, that’s all. It’s been a long day. . .” Making an effort to collect herself, she lifted her lips in a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’d best get you up to bed.”
She helped him up the stairs in silence. When they reached the landing, she bade him good night and made a hasty retreat to her room.
❧
Nathan watched in confusion as she scuttled away. Some-thing obviously was troubling her. He thought through the events of the evening and realized she’d been fine until Mara arrived. He’d been surprised that she left the house without offering tea or coffee, as she had with all the other callers. Not that he cared one way or the other if Mara was made to feel welcome. In his opinion, she’d overstayed her welcome, and he certainly hadn’t wanted to be alone with the woman. He’d even been irritated when Sara left him to deal with her alone. The less he saw of Mara, the better.
Ever since that lunch-box social, he’d suspected that Sara was bothered by Mara. Tonight just confirmed it. Regardless of her denial, he was sure there had been some kind of misunderstanding.
He considered clearing it all up in the morning, but he didn’t want Sara making an issue of Friday night. Nathan had promised months ago to help Mr. Lawton install a new water closet in their house, and there was no honorable way out.
No, this would just have to wait. Friday was only six days away. He’d have to bide his time until then.
nineteen
For the first time in two weeks Nathan was able to attend Sunday services. Sara had a difficult time keeping her mind on the sermon, for Nathan was sitting very close, his leg pressed against hers.
She had awakened that morning feeling disheartened. It seemed there would be no end to this relationship between Mara and her husband. The woman wasn’t in church today, but next Friday loomed in Sara’s mind like a menacing cloud.
Out of nowhere, Sara heard Reverend Hill say the word “peace,” and her attention snapped back to the sermon, for peace was exactly what she needed. He asked the congregation to turn to John 16:33. Sara followed along in her Bible as he read. “These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”
Sara was still pondering these words when Reverend Hill turned to Romans 5:1–2. “Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.”
Sara made a conscious effort to memorize the locations of these verses. She wanted to commit them to memory and read the verses near them.
During the benediction she prayed that God would help her find peace in this marriage of hers. A peace that passes all understanding. Were those words in the Bible? They sounded very familiar. There was so much she didn’t know.
The next day, Nathan began doing light work, with the doctor’s approval. Sara and Hetty got back into their familiar routine. There was work to be caught up on: weeding, mending, groceries. Sara was grateful for the busy workload since it kept her from dwelling on her troubles.
Late that afternoon, as Mr. Parnell loaded some items into the back of the wagon, Mrs. Leighton from the post office came running toward her, waving an envelope.
“Mrs. McClain! I have a letter for you!”
Sara stepped away from the wagon and received the envelope. “Thank you, ma’am. You didn’t have to trouble yourself.” Sara peeked at the writing and recognized Helen’s swirly script.
“Well, I didn’t know how long it’d be before you stopped in. It’s not every day you receive a letter, after all!”
“No, ma’am. And thank you.”
After Mrs. Leighton went on her way and Mr. Parnell had finished, Sara climbed up into the wagon and tore the envelope open. Patience had never been one of her strong points, and Sara couldn’t help but wonder why Helen was writing her when they’d agreed to cut off all ties for a while.
Sara unfolded the paper and began reading.
Dear Sara,
Oh, how I’ve missed you! It seems years since we’ve seen one another, and I for one am glad to break the silence!
I know if I write any more gibberish you are simply going to skip down to the part where I tell you what’s going on, so I’ll just put you out of your misery right now (wonderful friend that I am!).
I read in yesterday’s paper that an unknown man had stepped in front of a wagon and was killed. The description fit Pete’s (they even said the man had been drunk), so of course I checked into matters. I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know that the man was, in fact, your miserable stepfather, and you need not ever worry yourself about him again! Apparently he’d been coming from a saloon and just walked out into the street without a care. He was dragged for a ways before they could stop the horses. My only regret, dear friend, is that this didn’t happen months ago! Now, here you are hundreds of miles away.
Sara sagged back on the bench. The news left her feeling numb—not at all how she would have thought she’d feel. There was even something more. Pity. Yes, she was certain it was pity she felt for this man who had no one to grieve his passing. What a wretched way to die. She continued to read.
Enough about me! How are you and your new husband getting along? I do hope that your life there is everything you deserve! Please write, as I am so very curious!
I went by your old house and left your landlord a note saying that I would remove your belongings. I’m sure there are things you miss and things of your mother’s that you would like to have. I will have them sent to you as soon as you write and let me know you are still there (maybe a little longer, since I need my next paycheck for food and rent).
I’m looking forward to your letter, so be quick about it, please!
Your dearest friend,
Helen
Sara reread the end of Helen’s letter and a smile formed on her face. She’d mi
ssed her friend’s wit, and now they could write one another. And she would be able to get her belongings back! She had thought they were gone forever. She made a mental note to send Helen the money to ship them.
She carefully tucked the letter into her apron pocket and set off for home.
When she returned to the ranch, Hetty was on her knees in the garden, weeding. After unhitching the team, Sara left the parcels in the wagon and took her letter to Hetty.
“Did we get a letter?” Hetty sat back on her heels.
“I did. It’s from my friend, Helen. I’ve mentioned her to you a time or two.”
“That’s wonderful! But I thought you two agreed not to write, given the circumstances.”
Sara gave a rueful smile and handed Hetty the letter. “It seems the circumstances have changed.”
Hetty removed her gloves and began reading. She was quiet and thoughtful as she read it, except for when she punctuated various parts with exclamations of surprise and dismay. When she finished she handed the paper back to Sara.
“She sounds like quite a gal, your friend.”
“She is. I’ve missed her.”
“You must have mixed feelins’ about this news.”
Sara stared off toward the hills. “You’re right, I do. Mostly I feel, I don’t know, indifferent. But I also feel a little sorry him. His life was so empty. He didn’t know what it was to care about someone. Am I making any sense?”
“You’re not only makin’ sense, I’m right proud of you, Sara. Most folks would feel that he done got what he deserved. You’re learnin’ about God’s ways mighty fast.”
“Don’t give me too much credit. I do feel a bit relieved that he’s gone.”
“Well, I reckon that’s natural. ’Specially if you was worried he might find ya. Your friend’ll be glad to hear your marriage has turned out good.”
Hetty talked on for a while, but Sara’s mind wandered on to her marriage problems. Things were not as good as Hetty thought they were. Sara needed to do some searching, both in the Bible and within herself.
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