"God sent me here for a reason, Stephen." That buttoned his lip for the time being. "It's difficult to explain, but I feel as if He's put me right here in the middle of this town for a specific purpose. I've felt it from the beginning. Yes, the original agreement I made with Mr. Broughton didn't pan out, but it hasn't discouraged me from staying on. Truthfully, I don't miss the conveniences of city life. Besides, I enjoy Miss Emma's friendship, and there are others..." She wouldn't mention little Rachel and Seth, how her heart had melted upon first meeting them. Their uncle, well, he was another story altogether.
"But that's ridiculous. What would you have people think, that you've become a missionary? `Sarah Woodward Leaves Lap of Luxury to Minister to the Villains of Kentucky."' He harrumphed. "There's a headline for the Boston Globe."
She didn't appreciate his mockery, but then he'd always been good at it. Even as a child, he'd ridiculed her for her uncommon faith. Oh, she believed Stephen was a Christian, but he had always been more passionate about working for the almighty dollar than for almighty God. Where Sarah's heart beat for people, Stephen's beat for money and success.
"Perhaps God's reasons for sending me here are mission oriented," she replied with conviction. "No matter, I'm here to stay, and I don't care what people might think."
His colorless eyes flashed with impatience. "What about your inheritance? Even missionaries need money for accomplishing their goals."
She cringed. "So it comes to that, does it?" He'd always placed great importance on wealth. No doubt, that was the driving force behind his desires for marriage.
"Let us be realistic, Sarah. You cannot obtain possession of your properties until you marry. Your mother clearly stated in her will-"
"That I marry, yes, but she did not state that I must marry you, Stephen."
"No?" He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a folded piece of paper.
"What is that?" she asked, suddenly filled with unexplained jitters.
"Read it and see for yourself."
She took the feather-light paper from his hand and unfolded it. Her mother's shaky handwriting covered the page.
My Dear Stephen,
My days on earth are numbered, and I fear that leaving my only daughter behind will be devastating for her. Please see that she is well cared for, Stephen. I know that I can trust you to wed her when the time is right. You will be doing me an eternal favor if you see to her needs in this manner.
Yours very truly,
Carmen Woodward
Unstoppable tears rolled down Sarah's cheeks as she refolded the missive and handed it back.
When he should have been remorseful, Stephen wore a look of satisfaction. "So you see, Sarah? It is not only necessary that we wed, it is our duty." He leaned in close so that she felt his hot breath on her cheek. "You do want to fulfill your mother's final wish, don't you?"
Sarah's shoulders dropped as anguished emotions tugged at her senses. How should she respond to something like this? Worse, how could she say no to him now?
Rocky stomped purposefully through the mud-spattered streets toward Emma's boardinghouse. He'd fully intended to ignore the finely dressed chap he'd overheard inquiring at the post office as to Sarah Woodward's place of residence. After all, what business was it of his who visited the feisty woman with the burnished red curls who'd turned down his generous offer of marriage? However, curiosity, if not outright suspicion, prohibited him from disregarding the incident.
Something about the stuffy-looking character had disturbed him-his outlandish show of affluence, perhaps. Usually a good judge of character, Rocky had him figured for a finagler, cunning and shrewd as the day was long.
On the front porch, he spotted Sarah through the window facing the weasel directly. Without thought of what he intended to say, he entered the house, knowing it to be a public establishment. As soon as the bell above the door chimed, Sarah and the snobbish fellow both looked up. Sarah's eyes instantly widened, while the man's were indifferent.
"Hello, Sarah," Rocky said.
"Mr. Callahan," she said stiffly.
The ill-mannered lout made a grunting noise. "You know this farmer?" he asked, his eyebrows rising until they nearly disappeared under the hairline on his low-lying forehead.
"We've met, yes," she answered, straightening herself with dignity. "Rocky Callahan, meet Stephen Alden."
Rocky might have stepped forward to offer a hand, but instead he waited to see if Alden would make the first move. When he didn't, neither man moved. They simply nodded stiffly.
"How are Seth and Rachel?" Sarah hastened. Her eyes held some unspecified emotion, but the evidence of tears was more than clear.
"They're fine," he answered flatly, shooting Stephen Alden a withering glance. "They're with my mother," he added.
"That's nice," she replied, her eyes traveling back to the sourpuss at her side. She appeared distraught, but Rocky knew so little about her that it was difficult to determine what was going on. Suddenly, he had an outrageous idea.
"Of course, Rachel has been her usual obstinate self and Seth is just plain gloomy most of the time, refuses to make a single decision without his sister's say-so. Naturally, neither one of them listens to a word I say."
He gauged her reaction, noting that all-too-familiar look of ire blossom out on her rose-hued cheeks. Satisfied, he continued, "Seth rarely eats a thing, and his sister seems to think I should spoil him by making only what he enjoys. Since that's not about to happen, I think the kid has lost a pound or two."
"What?" Now apprehension accompanied the ire, and he prided himself on his fine tactic. "He can't afford to lose weight, Mr. Callahan. He's such a small boy as it is."
"I'm not given to spoiling the kid," he answered in a harsher tone than needed.
By now, Stephen Alden, whose gaze had trailed back and forth, looked sufficiently perturbed. "Who is this-this brackish boar, Sarah-sweetheart?" Rocky noticed he made a point to add the endearment, almost as an afterthought.
"Someone who proposed marriage to her last week," Rocky supplied for her. "I was coming back to see if she'd had a change of heart."
Sarah looked as shocked by the declaration as he was himself. In fact, until now, he hadn't planned to say it. After all, he wasn't dying to marry the obstinate female, but he couldn't deny his need for a wife, either, and Sarah seemed the most likely candidate. When this cad had presented himself at the post office, the notion that someone else might be vying for her hand had put a regular thorn in his side.
The fellow scoffed and Sarah paled. "Preposterous!" he declared. "Sarah's marrying me, aren't you, Sarah? In fact, all that's needed now is to set the date." Alden drew her up beside him in a possessive clutch, and suddenly Rocky wanted nothing more than to knock the bum on his skinny little biscuit.
"Is that so?" asked Rocky. "Rather sudden, isn't it?"
The fellow gave a hard, cold-eyed smile and hugged her closer yet. "Sarah and I are old acquaintances, so it comes as no shock that we would marry." Sarah offered up a pathetic smile. "Our families traveled together to America from Europe. Of course, the trip wasn't that memorable for either of us since we were mere babes."
Sarah shifted, and Rocky could have sworn she tried to put distance between them, but the shyster's hold on her shoulder kept her cemented in place.
"Strange that she would accept a proposal from you when she traveled all the way from Massachusetts with the intentions of marrying someone else entirely," Rocky stated.
"Yes, well, stranger yet would be the notion that you might consider yourself worthy of marrying her," the fool said, accompanying the remark with a snide laugh.
"Stephen, please..." It was Sarah's first attempt at clearing the mounting cloud of instant dislike between the men.
"Well, it's true, darling, look at him," Alden said, wrinkling his nose. "Imagine-you marrying a farmer." Rocky had all he could do to keep from whacking the little man. One blow would probably do him in, he reasoned.
<
br /> "When is this wedding, Sarah?" Rocky asked, looking to her for the answer.
"I-well, actually..."
"No need to fret over the date just yet," Alden hurried to say. "I'll stop by again later, Sarah-when we can discuss this matter in private."
Just then, Alden pointed her toward the stairs, giving her a little nudge in the back, as if she were his child who needed direction.
"Stephen, unhand me," she ordered, withdrawing from his clutches, clearly perturbed, if the scowl on her face were any indication.
Rocky felt a wave of relief course through his veins. Ali, this was the Sarah he remembered meeting last week, mulish and self-sufficient. "I'm not going to marry you," she announced flatly, folding her arms across her chest in a defensive gesture. "I'm sorry."
The stubby little snoot put his hands to her shoulders, but she promptly disengaged herself from them. "But of course you are, Sarah," he muttered through his tight jaw. "It would be a great disservice to your mother if you-."
"I'm sure my mother had her reasons for writing that letter, but I'm also certain that in the end she would have wanted me to be happy." Her eyes regarded him carefully.
Shoulders dropping a fraction, he shook his head. "Give me one good reason you should decline my offer."
"Because..." Sarah's gaze drifted from Alden to Rocky, as she hauled in a monstrous breath. "I'm marrying Mr. Callahan," she announced, pointing one long finger straight at Rocky.
"What?" Stephen's face bulged red with pent-up air, his tone just short of a polecat's screech.
Rocky felt his jaw drop as the impact of her words registered. On the one hand, he was relieved; on the other, beside himself with panic.
A wife? She was going to marry him after all?
Did she know what she was saying, or should he give her time to reconsider? No, Alden could snatch her up in the interim. Besides, Alden didn't deserve her. Not that he himself was much of a catch.
Hm. More than likely, neither one of them deserved her.
e has two children desperate for a mother," Sarah said in hushed whispers to the harried Stephen Alden. "I can be that person."
"Sarah," he hissed through his teeth, craning his neck forward so that his head came within an inch of her own. "If it's children you want, I'll be more than happy to provide them." Stephen's hands fairly trembled when he squeezed her upper arms, and some part of her actually ached for the man she couldn't bring herself to love wholeheartedly. She'd always appreciated him as a friend, but unfortunately, her feelings stopped there.
Not that she carried any torch for Rocky Callahan, mind you. No, it was his niece and nephew who touched her heartstrings.
Stephen ranted while she tried to catch her bearings, grasping only the tail end of his musings when he said, "I'll be tied to a fence post before I'll allow you to go through with this sham, Sarah Woodward. Good grief, you don't even know this-this gullet' jumping hayseed."
"I'll let that remark pass, Alden," Rocky stated, stepping forward, "-except for maybe that part about your being tied to a fence post. Now that I wouldn't mind dwelling on for a bit."
Sarah's back straightened with the knowledge that she'd nearly forgotten he was in the room, so bent had she been on explaining her position to her childhood friend. One corner of Rocky's mouth shifted upward. He'd removed his hat some time back and now held it in both hands, spinning it slowly. His gaze traveled from Stephen to her then back to Stephen. Clearing his throat, he looked Stephen square in the eye.
"I'm not an ogre, Alden, as much as you'd like to think I am. I'm a farmer, yes, but not destitute. I have need of a wife, and since Sarah came here with the intentions of marrying, and her intended married another, I have given her an offer of marriage. I believe Sarah has stated her wishes. You'd do well to leave it at that."
Stephen glowered with anger. "Oh, you'd like that. I don't know what game you're playing, Callahan, but you'll not have the woman that our parents intended should go to me."
"You make her sound like a piece of property," Rocky stated coolly, his ice-blue eyes flashing.
A grunt emitted from Stephen's throat. "I traveled a great distance to locate Sarah, and I don't intend to return to Massachusetts empty-handed. She's coming with me."
Rocky continued his approach, stopping within inches of Stephen, his face slanting downward since he was considerably taller and brawnier. "Perhaps you didn't hear the lady. She doesn't want to marry you," he emphasized, his staunch look enough to make Sarah rethink her decision.
"Oh, stop it, both of you," she intervened, coming between them and putting one hand on each of their chests, instinctively noting which of the two had the sturdier one.
Lord, give me a clear head, she prayed.
Her future was vague at best, but something had told her from the start that coming to Little Hickman would unlock the mystery. Trust was the key, despite the fact she didn't entirely trust Rocky Callahan. "It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man," the Lord reminded.
"My mind is made up," she issued, preparing herself for Stephen's next outburst. "I know what our parents' wishes were, Stephen, but I cannot in good conscience marry you."
"You would marry a man you don't even know in favor of me? How does your conscience allow for that?"
"It is what God is saying I should do," she replied, straightening.
"That's hogwash! God would not have you marry someone you don't know."
"How can you be so sure? Have you been asking for God's direction in your life, Stephen, studying His holy Scriptures?"
The question must have rankled, for a huffing sound spewed from his chest as he suddenly took up his coat, stuffing his hands into the sleeves and then wrapping his woolen scarf about his neck, his actions jerky and rough. In one final move, he plunked his bowler hat on his small head. "Studying the Scriptures is the job of ministers, not the layfolk," was his curt response.
Avid learner that she was, Sarah could not agree, but this was not the time to argue. "Where are you going?"
"I'm heading into Lexington. Do you think I would stay in this godforsaken town?"
"And then?"
"Then I shall go back to Massachusetts. If you are so bent on marrying this fool, there's not much I can do to stop you, is there?"
Rocky cleared his throat and something like arrogance skittered across his face, making Sarah want to give him a swift kick in the kneecap. "But what about the fence post idea, Alden? I was looking forward to that," he had the gall to jest, his upturned lip adding fuel to the fire between the two men.
"Now, see here," Stephen started.
"Would you excuse us, Mr. Callahan?" Sarah quickly interrupted, fixing Rocky with a stern look.
At once, he snapped to attention. "Oh, no problem. You two say your good-byes. Nice meeting you, Alden," he said, grinning from ear to ear and heading for Emma's front porch, plopping his wool cap securely in place as he walked across the room.
Once the door shut behind him, Stephen mumbled, "Dingblasted country boy."
"Will I see you again?" Sarah asked, ignoring the remark. Although Stephen Alden could be snobbish, he was still a lifelong friend, and she hated ending matters on a sour note.
He gave her a hard look that also contained the tiniest measure of tenderness. "We'll see." Snatching up a tiny strand of her hair, he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. "You can contact my assistant, Herbert Austin, if you need anything, Sarah. Your mother's documents are in safe hands. I will dispense them and your assets upon your request." She could see he was making every effort to hold his wounded emotions intact.
She shrugged, and he dropped both hands to his sides. "I don't have need of them just yet," she replied. "I'm not marrying so that I may obtain my properties, Stephen. I'll let you know when I decide to lay claim to them. In the meantime, they may sit there and collect interest-or dust, for all I care."
He shook his head in disbelief. "You're really something, Sarah Woodward. You have al
l that money, and no place to go with it. Look at you, holed up in some filthy, dust-ridden town, about to marry a farmer you don't even know, all because of some penchant to carry out an assignment from God. All I can say is I hope you know what you're doing."
His words stung, but she recognized them as a cover-up for his disappointment. After all, he'd thought his trip to Kentucky would be sufficient to convince her to marry him. Little had he known it would only drive her in the opposite direction.
"Thank you for coming to see me," she said, granting him a weak smile. "Try not to worry about me."
Wistfulness stole into his expression. "I could have made you happy, you know."
"I know you would have tried," she replied.
Leaning close, he brushed her cheek with a light kiss. "Good-bye, Sarah."
"Good-bye."
And just like that, Stephen Alden walked out the door and out of her life-and Rocky Callahan walked in.
The wedding was a small affair, attended only by Emma, Sarah's witness, and Benjamin Broughton, who stood as witness for Rocky. Besides the witnesses, a small crowd of guests made up the informal gathering. They were Liza Broughton, Benjamin's new wife; Rocky's mother and father, Frank and Mary Callahan, whom Sarah had not met until just before the ceremony; and, of course, a grim-looking Rachel and an inquisitive Seth. Mr. Callahan's living room, small though it was, served as the meeting room. Although she'd had little time to peruse her surroundings, Sarah's first impression of the house was that its stark appearance reminded her of a flowerless garden. She decided a few rugs, some cheery wall hangings, and bright new curtains would add a pleasant, cozy touch. Perhaps she could enlist Rachel's help in decorating.
After some persuasion, Jonathan Atkins, the new minister, had agreed to wed the couple on short notice. His argument that a courtship should precede the marriage would have made sense to anyone else, but to Rocky and Sarah his advice fell on deaf ears. Both had determined that the marriage should go on. They had to think about the children. The time for getting to know each other would naturally follow.
Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) Page 5