Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2)

by Sharlene MacLaren

  "And I understand she's not alone. We just spoke to Gus Humphrey at Johansson's Mercantile," Sarah said. "I suggested he let his sister know that Rachel would enjoy meeting her. He seemed to think his sister would like that."

  "Oh, Lenora Humphrey is my friend," Lill chimed. "I wish I could see her again, but Papa says he don't have much time for running me back and forth."

  Liza's smile widened even more, this time with sudden inspiration. "Oh, wouldn't it be fun to have a party for the children? It's been a dreary time for them since that awful fire."

  Mrs. Winthrop fiddled with stacking several papers in a neat pile. "If it hadn't been for that heathen, Clement Bartel, why, the school would still be standing," she murmured.

  A deep frown replaced Liza's smile. "It's true. He started the fire-after he tied me to a chair inside the school."

  Sarah gasped. She'd wondered about the details of the fire, only hearing snippets here and there. "I'd heard the young man died."

  Mrs. Winthrop harrumphed. "We're better off without the hooligan."

  Liza pursed her lips and gave the woman a scorching look. "I'm sorry to say he was a very troubled young man. Fortunately, Rufus Baxter, one of my students, entered the building soon enough to distract Clement. A fistfight ensued." Liza's face took on another dimension, as if the simple retelling of the story were painful. "Just when I thought I had breathed my last, Benjamin bounded into the building and hauled me out, chair and all. Then he went back in for Rufus. He couldn't locate Clement, poor boy. They found him later near the back door. He was not much more than a heap of ashes by then." She shuddered and hugged little Molly close.

  Mrs. Winthrop heaved a weighty sigh. "And because of that stupid boy, the town is out a school and a church. Clyde and I put in a good share of money for that beautiful school building, you know." It seemed important to the woman to make that fact known. "I'm not sure we're ready to do that again.

  Sarah's heart leaped at the prospect of being able to help the town financially, but she wasn't sure her husband would approve. He still had no idea of the extent of her wealth, and if she didn't approach the subject with caution, his stubborn pride might very well stand in the way.

  "Well, I'm certain something will work out one day soon," Sarah said.

  Iris Winthrop unleashed another loud breath. "That remains to be seen. Not many folks have offered financial assistance, even though we've held a few fund-raising events."

  "Times are rough in the winter, Mrs. Winthrop. Perhaps when warmer weather arrives, the men will get the fever to start building," Liza said, "and the town can begin talking it up.

  "Spring is planting season," Mrs. Winthrop put in, sticking out her chin.

  Liza nodded. "You're right, of course. I haven't been a farmer's wife long enough to know all the aspects of farming. However, I do know that Benjamin and several other men will be willing to give of their time and energy, even if they don't have a good deal of extra money in their pockets."

  That seemed to silence the gruff faced woman, and so Sarah and Liza took up once more with the discussion of how to go about arranging for a children's get-together. "It could be a winter fair of sorts," Liza suggested with eagerness.

  "Oh boy," Lill cried, "could we have a cake walk and maybe some foot races and other games?"

  Sarah and Liza both laughed. "Why not?" Liza said. "We'll advertise around town. I'm sure other families will be in favor. After all, these children are used to going to school every day. No doubt their restlessness is growing wearisome for the parents."

  Sarah thrilled at the idea of meeting others around the town of Little Hickman, particularly the wives and mothers. "I'll do whatever I can to make it happen," she said, looking from Liza to Lill, and then to Rachel. Much to her delight, Rachel wore a smile. It would do the girl good to make new friends.

  Seth's chatter filled the air on the trip home. He spoke of the horses he'd seen in the livery, all the saddles and tack hanging from the walls, and the assortment of carriages and wagons. Rocky found it hard to refrain from smiling, something about the boy's lightheartedness rubbing off on him.

  On the other end of the wagon seat, Sarah held her widebrimmed hat as the wagon jostled along, contenting herself with listening to Seth, eyes fastened on the miles of farmland on either side of them.

  Ever since the episode in which he'd embarrassed her in front of the Broughtons, things hadn't been quite the same between them. Oh, he'd apologized profusely the next day, but since then most of the smiles she had doled out had been for the children.

  "There's going to be a town party." Rachel interrupted Seth's nonstop prattle to make the announcement.

  "Party, you say?" Rocky asked, curious. "What sort of party?"

  "Don't know exactly. Mrs. Broughton and Sarah were talking about it."

  "That so?" Rocky asked, angling his head at Sarah.

  The chilly breeze toyed with her hair, sending strands of it flitting across her cheek. She lifted a hand and tucked them back behind her ear. Rocky coaxed the horses into a faster canter, waiting for her to speak. "Liza and I were discussing that it'd be nice to plan something for the children," she said with a touch of excitement. "Most haven't seen each other since the fire, and it will give Seth and Rachel the chance to meet some children their own age."

  It sounded like a good idea. Rocky wondered if Rachel would join in the festivities or hang back. Lately, Seth had grown more independent of his sister, somewhat lessening Rachel's role as caregiver, and he wondered if that didn't contribute to her morose state of mind. Not for the first time he admonished himself for his lack of sensitivity where the girl was concerned.

  "When is this so-called party?" he asked.

  Drawing in a breath, Sarah said, "Just before planting season." Then, eyeing him with particular care, she added, "I volunteered our barn. I hope that meets with your approval."

  The announcement set him back a bit. It'd been a good long while since he'd hosted any kind of gathering. Hester used to enjoy inviting folks over, but since living on his own, he'd pretty much kept to himself. He valued his privacy. Now his wife was planning a town get-together on his property, and he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that.

  Slowing the horses at a bend in the road, then veering them toward the final leg of the journey, he set his gaze on Sarah's hopeful expression, and just like that, he had his answer.

  Casting her a smile, he said, "Now that I think about it, Mrs. Callahan, I'd say it's about time we hosted a shindig."

  n the weeks that followed, Sarah and Rachel worked on the new curtains, Sarah instructing Rachel how to stitch a simple hem in one panel of curtains while she cut out material for another pair. Rachel delighted in learning the craft, and Sarah thrilled at watching her dive into an activity apart from reading. At least she couldn't hide behind her sewing in the same way she could a book cover.

  Midway through stitching curtains, Sarah stopped to make the tablecloth. It was large enough to cover the entire rectangular table and still hang almost to the floor, its colorful, flowery pattern standing out against the hardwood flooring and spindle-back chairs. If there were enough material, she would make fine matching cushions for each of the chairs as well.

  Together, Sarah and Rachel decided where to place the new rag rugs-one in the doorway, another in the kitchen, and yet another in front of the entryway to the children's bedroom. Pretty new towels graced the hooks over the kitchen sink, and matching potholders hung near the stove and to one side of the fireplace beside the oven.

  All in all, the little Kentucky farmhouse had begun to feel more and more like home to Sarah Callahan.

  Not one to interest himself in girlish matters, Seth busied himself running in and out of the house, his latest adventures feeding the two hogs at the far corner of the backyard and tending to the mewing barn cats. Sarah noticed that Rocky had taken to spending more time with the boy and was not so quick to complain anymore when Seth asked to tag along, even occasionally invitin
g him. It was a joy to watch their relationship develop, and she marveled at how the boy seemed to flourish under Rocky's attention.

  Rachel remained mostly sullen, but even she had taken to smiling more, especially during those times that Sarah included her in preparing the meals, gathering up the laundry, sewing the curtains, or watering the houseplants. The girl enjoyed staying busy, so Sarah did what she could to hold boredom at bay. Thankful for Rocky's wonderful collection of books, including many of the classics and a few history books and geographical studies, she read often to the children, creating mini-lessons whenever possible. She'd decided that the school's closing was no reason to deprive the children of an education.

  It was odd how she was beginning to think of Seth and Rachel as her own. In fact, she doubted she could love them more if she'd birthed them.

  Rocky came to the door just as Sarah and Rachel had finished hanging a set of curtains and were standing back to admire their handiwork. They'd completed three pairs, with one to go. Rocky gave a smile of approval. "Looks mighty nice, if I do say so," he complimented.

  "Thank you," Sarah said, appreciating the accolade. "Rachel helped. She is going to be a fine seamstress some day." Sarah put a hand around the child's shoulder and gave a squeeze. "She's a quick study."

  Rocky nodded and stepped through the door, wiping his feet on the new rug. "Am I supposed to use this rug?" The guilty look on his face nearly made Sarah laugh.

  "That's what rugs are for, Rocky," she said.

  He inclined his head at her and made a sheepish face. "I know that, but this one looks too good for wiping my muddy shoes on."

  "This is your house, Rocky," she said. "You should feel at home in it."

  Lately it seemed to Sarah he'd been bending over backwards to keep the peace with her. She appreciated it, but it made her wonder what she'd done to deserve it. Was he still worried about the scene he'd made at the dinner table when the Broughtons had visited?

  He finished wiping his feet, then walked to the kitchen, picked up a tin cup, and poured himself some fresh drinking water. After gulping down the entire cupful, he set the cup down and turned to face her. "I plan to start the addition tomorrow morning, bright and early," he announced. For days, he'd made several trips to and from the sawmill. Behind the barn, he'd stacked boards, roofing shingles, and a variety of other supplies.

  Sarah heard the little gasp of air that came from Rachel. "You're really doing it?" she asked, her voice not much more audible than a whisper.

  Rocky eked out a grin for the girl. "Did you think I'd forgotten?"

  She shook her head. "No, but-I-never had a room to myself before. Mama never had..." That's where she stopped.

  Sarah glanced at Rocky, whose face had clouded over. "Well," he said, "it won't be anything fancy, mind you, but it'll afford you some privacy from that scalawag brother of yours." To this, he smiled, stepped closer to the girl, and dipped his head at her. Then, patting the top of her head in a tender sort of gesture, he added, "A girl your age should have a room of her own."

  It was the first time Sarah could remember him touching the child in any way but indifferently, and speaking in so gentle a tone. Had Rachel noticed as well?

  Oh, Lord, it seems You've heard my prayers.

  Rachel managed a shy smile and shrugged. "It will be nice to have a place to read my books."

  "Just don't think of your room as a place to hide from the rest of us," Sarah hurried to say.

  "That's right," Rocky said. "You should be playing outside more, maybe keeping your brother company down at the creek."

  Instantly, her blue eyes went bright as a summer moon. "Could I help feed the animals-like Seth's been doin'?"

  Rocky's brow furrowed, as he glanced from Sarah to Rachel. "I expect Sarah needs you in the house for the womanly chores." The girl's expression dimmed.

  "I see nothing wrong with her learning the outside chores as well," Sarah chimed.

  "After all, I'll be tending to the barn chores myself once planting season arrives. You said so yourself. Maybe we should both spend time with you in the barn-so you can show us what to do."

  He gave her an inquiring look. "I didn't think you'd actually stay around long enough to..." Now a flickering gaze led to the beginnings of a smile. "Never mind." Then to Rachel, "I guess I could use some help feeding those critters. We'll start tomorrow morning."

  Rachel clapped her hands in delight, as if she'd just been handed her first bouquet of roses. Giving Sarah one last undecipherable glance, he headed for the door. "Seth and I'll be back at suppertime."

  Sarah advanced a step, suddenly intent on extending his stay. "Where is Seth?"

  Rocky chuckled, hand on the doorknob. "Out behind the barn fashioning himself some kind of doodad with a piece of wood, a hammer, and some nails."

  Sarah gasped and covered her mouth. "But-he could get hurt. Isn't he too small for... ?"

  "How will he learn if no one teaches him, Sarah?" Rocky cut in, his face sobering with the private memory of her earlier words. Set back, she stifled a smile, and Rocky shook his head at her. "Don't worry. It's a small hammer he's working with, one I bought for-my son."

  His son. "Oh."

  Opening the door in haste, he stepped into the chilly air, then paused and turned. "By the way, you set a date yet for that party you're planning with Liza Broughton?"

  She'd been waiting for the right opportunity to broach the subject. "March first, Sunday after next." He seemed to ponder that. "We ladies will do most of the work," she hastened to add. "All that's needed from you are some bales of hay for sitting on, and perhaps some boards for tables. Of course, you'll want to clear a place in the middle for the dancing."

  His mouth twisted into a full frown. "Dancing? You mean with music?"

  She could barely control her burst of laughter. "It's a might hard to square dance without it."

  Failing to see her humor, he said, "I thought this was supposed to be an event for the children."

  "It is, silly. There'll be plenty of games-cakewalks, egg tosses, relays, and a three-legged sack race. And for the adults, square dancing." When he still looked doubtful, Sarah added, "And plenty of good food, of course."

  He nodded. "I don't dance." The statement came with a wooden expression.

  She suppressed another spurt of giggles. "I wouldn't expect you to-unless the urge so overpowered you that you couldn't hold back." When he remained glum-faced, she hastily added, "Liza tells me that Eldred Johansson is a square dance caller from way back. Ben told her they used to have barn raisings followed by square dances. Apparently, Elmer Barrington is good with a fiddle."

  "I'd forgotten all about that," Rocky said, fumbling with the doorknob. Cold air snapped at Sarah's ankles. "The first time I ever set eyes on my Hester was at a barn raising." One side of his square-cut jaw flicked slightly.

  Just what could she say to that? Her spirits suddenly sagged. Would he never stop mourning his first wife? Moreover, would having the hoedown in their barn stir up old memories, perhaps even demolish their already fragile relationship?

  Oh, Lord, please help me show my husband that it's all right to enjoy life again.

  Sleep did not come easily that night. Images of the day's events replayed in Rocky's head... Seth trying to construct something with that piece ofwood and Rocky coming alongside to offer suggestions... a simple birdfeeder? a toy boat? a handy doorstop? Every time he turned around, the kid was asking for his time-and he was giving it.

  Then there was the matter of Rachel. How her face had lit at the prospect of her very own room, as if he'd just offered her a handful of gold. The kids had had so little in their short lifetime. Regrets assailed him. He should have stepped forward to help when his sister was still living, and he would have, had he not been so wrapped up in his own selfish needs.

  Chilled, he yanked a blanket over his shoulder and rolled over on the lumpy couch, wincing with pain when he landed on the one protruding spring, and letting go a mild curse. He
missed the comfort of his own bed. Quickly, he relinquished the thought, for to get his own bed back would mean sharing it with Sarah, and he doubted she would go for that. After all, they'd agreed on a marriage in name only.

  Still, there was that part of him that had started imagining more.

  Yes, his wife attracted him, but sorting out his feelings was another story. Hester had been pretty, but in an unsophisticated, earthy way. Sarah, on the other hand, was beautiful, her ramrod-straight backbone, fussy hairstyles, finely chiseled face, and fancy mannerisms putting her in an altogether different class. Lately, he'd found himself entering the house at all hours of the day, just looking for an excuse to lay eyes on her.

  She was too refined for the likes of him-forget that she seemed anxious to learn everything there was to know about the farm.

  I'll be tending the barn chores when planting season gets here. He lay there scoffing at the notion of her mucking stalls in her velvet skirt or maybe that green satin getup, the one with the shimmery buttons that traced a straight path down her bosom.

  Pfff! Best not to let his mind wander where the woman was concerned. She would be gone by April, he told himself, just as soon as she realized the work was too much for her. Moreover, he would send her off with his blessing.

  But then he'd be back to square one with the kids!

  He growled into the covers.

  "I can't do this," he finally muttered, punching a large dent in his feather pillow and turning over his bulky body for at least the dozenth time. The beginnings of a headache knocked at his temples. "I can't allow myself to love her-or anyone for that matter. Too much risk."

  "Abide in me, and I in you." He squeezed his eyes shut in the hope of blocking out the words. He used to be familiar with the Bible and had recited whole passages of it from memory as he plowed the fields. But that was before... Why did they fight their way back to the surface now? "I am the vine, ye are the branches.. .for without me ye can do nothing."