Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2)

by Sharlene MacLaren

  "Sarah," he whispered, rocking her gently back and forth.

  He kissed the top of her soap-scented head, and with newly awakened certainty, confessed to himself that he'd fallen head over heels in love. Was it presumptuous to believe she might feel the same?

  They stayed that way for several seconds, her sniffing and sagging into his embrace, arms wrapped loosely around his back, he reveling in her softness until she finally tipped her face upward. He might have kissed her in that very moment had it not been for the pair of gazing eyes they simultaneously sensed.

  "Seth!" Rocky exclaimed at the sight of the lad standing in his bedroom doorway, weak and pale, but standing nonetheless, nightclothes wrinkled, hair a tousled mess. It was the first time since falling ill that the child had ventured two steps beyond his cot. "What are you doing out of bed?"

  Earnest brown eyes studied them intently. "Was you two gonna kiss?" he asked instead of answering Rocky's question.

  On the one hand amused, and on the other disgruntled, by the interruption, for he'd come so close to confessing his love for Sarah, Rocky dropped his hands to his sides and turned toward the boy. Sarah gave one last dab at her eyes and cleared her throat. Seeming self-conscious that Seth had caught them in an embrace, she promptly sidestepped.

  He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "And what if we were?"

  Seth gave a matter-of-fact shrug and leaned his small body against the doorframe, undoubtedly weak. "I just wondered'cause I never seen kissin' before."

  Rocky shook his head and chuckled. "You best get back in bed, young man. You look about ready to topple."

  "I'm tired of sleepin'," he whined. "Can I come out here?"

  Rocky glanced at Sarah, whose face had creased into a sudden smile. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. But you have to promise to stay on the couch," she told him.

  Rocky walked over to the boy and swept him into his arms, then headed for the lumpy couch. Seth gave a weak giggle. "I'm hungry," he announced.

  No question. The boy was on the road to recovery.

  arah could not recall being happier. Although the diphtheria outbreak continued to spread throughout the area, Seth grew stronger every day, having come through the worst of it, and Rachel had returned, making their family once again complete. To top matters, Rocky had been paying Sarah special attention, helping her around the house whenever possible, insisting she take some time to rest, and every so often, giving her a quick peck on the cheek when the children weren't watching.

  Rocky gained strength every day, his cough having all but disappeared, and the burns on his face, shoulders, forearms, and chest healing nicely. Even the pinkish scars were fading fast. With his newfound strength came a desire to finish the bedroom addition. The quicker he did that, he claimed, the sooner he could tackle the job of rebuilding the barn. Of course, the townsmen had promised their muscles whenever Rocky gave the word, so Sarah had no qualms about that. She did wonder, however, where the money might come from, having sneaked a peek at his bankbook when he was outside working and seeing firsthand what his financial situation looked like. There was plenty of money left from the sale he'd made on the fall harvest and the few livestock he'd sold before winter, but that would go toward meeting their personal needs, as well as feeding the animals. He had invested in a small insurance policy some years prior, but it wouldn't come close to covering the entire loss, which included many farm implements, animal feed, horse riggings, and other supplies.

  Once more, she'd offered to provide the money from her private funds, and again he'd refused, saying he hadn't married her for her wealth. "I never said you did," she'd argued, reacting with irritation. "What's mine is yours, remember? When we married, we became partners, did we not? I should think that would extend to our financial matters. If you would allow me to contact-."

  "Your lawyer beau?" he'd finished for her, his tone heavy with sarcasm, brow slanted upward.

  Would he never get it through his head that Stephen Alden wasn't her beau?

  Your man is a stubborn one. Doc's words coursed through her head. Stubborn and proud, she'd mulled.

  Because she hadn't wanted to feed the tension between them, she'd chosen to ignore the jab and go back to the task of scrubbing the heavy kettle she'd been working on.

  "I'm the head of this household, Sarah Callahan. I can manage our finances just fine without your help." He seemed to think this was the end of the discussion.

  The back door slammed shut, bringing Sarah back to the present.

  "Somethin' smells good, Aunt Sarah," said Rachel, a basketful of eggs under her arm. She wiped her feet on the braided rug, handed the basket over to Sarah, and took off her jacket. With April mere days away, milder temperatures had set in along with bounteous amounts of sunshine.

  "It's the bread in the oven," Sarah answered. "More eggs?" she asked with a frown. "I think you're feeding those chickens too much grain!"

  Rachel giggled. "All the more money we'll earn when we take the eggs to town."

  Selling the eggs for measly pennies seemed ridiculous to Sarah in light of her bursting bank account in Boston, but folks did rave about the rich flavor in the small brown eggs, and there was a certain satisfaction in exchanging goods for profit.

  Sarah placed the basket on the counter. "I'll rinse them off, and you can put them in the containers for me."

  "Want me to set the table after that?" Ever since the girl's return to the little house, she'd bent over backwards to do her part. It seemed her brush with death and Seth's recent illness had matured the girl beyond her years.

  "I'd appreciate that. I just have to take the bread from the oven and see to the stew. Then we'll call your uncle in."

  "Can I call him?" asked Seth from the sofa. He laid the picture book he'd been looking at in his lap. Although he'd gained in strength, the boy's face remained ashen and his voice weak, an indication that the illness had taken its toll on his small body. Sarah's heart overflowed with affection.

  "I'm not sure he'll hear you, sweetie, but you can certainly try," she encouraged with a smile.

  "Why can't I go outside and get him?"

  Sarah gave the boy a stern but loving look. "We've been over this before. When you get stronger you may go outside, but we're taking things very slowly so your sickness doesn't return."

  Seth's face dropped in a pout. "I'll go get Uncle Rocky when it's time," Rachel said, attempting to smooth over the matter.

  Just then, the front door opened and Rocky entered. "Is someone dragging my name through the mud?" he asked, eyes twinkling as they came to rest on each one individually, lingering the longest on Sarah. He slipped out of his farm coat and hung it on a hook, then turned to face Sarah again. A tiny smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. As was usually the case, his large presence ignited a warm flame that ran the length of her.

  "Seth said he wanted to go outside and get you when it was time for supper," Rachel announced, "but Aunt Sarah says he can't go out until he's stronger."

  "And she's right," Rocky said. "Your Aunt Sarah is a very smart woman." He advanced further into the house, taking a moment to tousle Seth's brown hair, then giving Rachel a gentle pat on the shoulder. Both children responded with a shy smile. They were still growing accustomed to their uncle's newfound affection.

  As Rocky moved in her direction, Sarah whirled toward the sink with the basket of eggs and started rinsing each one. Despite her efforts to adjust to her husband's presence, he still managed to jangle her nerves. Thus, when he brushed against her at the sink, she accidentally cracked the egg she held in her hand in two, its gooey yoke slithering through her fingers.

  A low chuckle rumbled from Rocky's chest as he set to pumping water. "Concentrate, my sweet wife," he whispered, taking her hand in his and rinsing it. His blue eyes were humorous yet tender.

  "I am concentrating just fine," she replied, pulling her hand away to regain her composure, but realizing her sense of calm wouldn't be complete until he pu
t some space between them.

  "Here's the egg container, Aunt Sarah," Rachel interrupted, suddenly shoving herself in between the two adults. "Want me to put the eggs in now?"

  "Yes," Sarah answered in haste.

  Forced to move aside, Rocky smiled down at Rachel as she began to place each egg in the small, sectioned container. "Looks like you'll earn a fair piece in town tomorrow."

  "Me?" Rachel asked. "They're not my chickens."

  "Ali, but you've named them all," Rocky countered. "I should think anyone who names a critter ought to lay claim to it. Besides, ever since you came home, you've been tending to the egg collection. Seems only fair you should reap the profits for your labor."

  Rachel's eyes grew double in size as she threw her arms around Rocky's middle, her hands falling far short of meeting at the back. "Oh, thank you, Uncle Rocky! Just think, my very own money!" she shrieked.

  Surprise lit in Rocky's face at the child's gesture of appreciation. Slowly, he put both hands around her shoulders and drew her close. Balmy warmth seized Sarah when she realized it was the first time she'd witnessed the two in an actual hug.

  "Hey, what about me?" Seth complained from the couch. "I want a job so I can earn some money."

  Rocky glanced at the boy and chuckled, his hands still resting on Rachel's shoulders. "Well now, you're a bit young for earning money. Seems to me you'd do well to concentrate on regaining your strength, young man. That's job enough for you right now." Leaving Rachel's side, he sauntered across the room and sat down next to Seth. Just like that, the boy snuggled in close.

  Sarah continued to watch, glorying in the precious moment. As if sensing her silent assessment, Rocky glanced up and winked at her. More warmth trickled down her spine.

  Quickly, she turned her attention back to her chores.

  Moments later, as Rachel was reaching for the usual mismatched dishes with which to set the table, Rocky announced from the couch, "This seems like a fine night for the new china."

  Her back to him while she sliced fresh bread for the evening meal, Sarah felt her breath catch, but her better judgment told her not to react. "That would be nice," was her simple reply.

  At Sarah's nod, Rachel moved to an entirely different cupboard where Sarah had stacked the new dishes. Not since Rocky's verbal display in front of family and friends had she used them. "They're so pretty," the girl cooed as she carried a stack of plates to the table. One by one, she placed each plate in its appropriate spot, then returned to the cupboard to pull out the drawer that held the tub of old, tarnished dinnerware.

  As she was counting out mismatched spoons, Rocky stopped her. "Use the new silver, too. It's in that wooden chest on that lower shelf behind the curtain," he said, pointing. The girl froze in place, obviously remembering the stir the new dishes and silver had earlier created.

  Barely able to contain her own gasp of surprise, Sarah ceased with her bread-cutting to snag a look at Rocky. At the same time, Seth angled his head upward to get a better view of Rocky's face. "Aren't them the weddin' presents from Aunt Sarah's beau, Uncle Rocky?"

  Surrendering to embarrassment, Sarah cleared her throat, picked up the platter of bread, and carried it to the table. "As I've said before, Stephen Alden was never my beau," she stated, forcing calmness. At some point Rachel had retrieved the silver and was even now arranging each brightly shining utensil in its proper place.

  Rocky eased the boy off his lap and stood. Sarah watched his approach out of the corner of her eye. Parking his hands on the back of a chair, he fixed his eyes on her. "Guess it doesn't matter much where they come from. Seems a trifle imprudent not to use them."

  When their gazes met and held, he winked at her for the second time that evening.

  Rocky couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face as he finished the flooring in the addition. He rose to admire his handiwork, thankful that he'd finally regained his physical capabilities. The addition nearly complete, all it needed was a fresh coat of paint on the plaster walls and ceiling and a few scatter rugs for the hardwood floor. Standing back, he determined it was the nicest room in the house. If he'd been thinking, he might have designated the new room for Sarah and him and given the older bedroom to Rachel. But what was he thinking? He didn't share a bed with his wife now; what made him think a new room would make any difference?

  Stretching taut muscles, he thought about his next major project rebuilding the barn. He'd paid a visit to Bill Whittaker, Hickman's bank president, to see about a loan. Thankfully, his credit was good, although Bill had questioned why the loan was necessary considering what he'd heard about Rocky's wife. "What are you talking about?" Rocky had asked.

  "Why, I heard tell she comes from money, son. Been waitin' for her to make a hefty deposit." He'd lifted pointy brows, his shifty eyes putting Rocky in mind of a predatory fox.

  It annoyed him to no end that folks seemed to know things concerning his wife about which even he had no real details. Just how much money did she have? He'd be lying to say he wasn't a bit curious. Apparently, it was at least enough to rebuild his barn. Beyond that, he couldn't imagine she had much more, and he wasn't about to drain her of all her funds. Besides, he was the man of the house, meant to be the sole provider. He'd be hanged before he'd start relying on her money for survival. He could provide just fine for this family, and he would prove that fact after life returned to normal.

  "Every one that is proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord: though hand join in hand, he shall not be unpunished." The verse came from the sixteenth chapter of Proverbs; he'd read it just two days ago. It irked him now that the verse slammed itself into his thoughts like an irate bull. Pride? How did that play in?

  Yes, he'd taken to reading his Bible again in privategoing out to the shed in the wee hours of the morning and sitting on a stool. Some mornings he even saw his breath while he sat there in the quiet, devouring the Word once more, looking for clues as to why God had chosen him to go through hard times, wondering if he'd ever find the answers he sought. Even though he felt closer to the Father during those times, he had yet to yield his life and heart completely. Something held him back. Was pride indeed a factor?

  "Sarah said I'd find you out here," interrupted a deep voice from behind, familiar for its resonance.

  An instant smile found its way to Rocky's lips as he whirled around. "Well, if it isn't the Reverend Atkins." He extended a hand. "How are you, Jon?"

  "Never better, especially now that the diphtheria outbreak seems to be moving on." His face darkened briefly. "You heard about the James family?"

  Rocky nodded. "Yeah, I understand they lost their youngest. A year old, was she?" The family had several other young children who had suffered milder cases, but the infant hadn't been strong enough to fight the disease. They lived on the other side of the creek, a couple miles outside of town. Since hearing about their loss, Rocky's heart had ached for them, perhaps perceiving their pain better than anyone.

  ,Jon nodded, then said, "Little Molly Broughton came through okay, as did the rest of Hickman's children, thank the Lord. Glad to see Seth is growing stronger. He even had a smile for me when I came through the door."

  Rocky nodded, grateful that the ugly claws of disease had not reached Rachel and that Seth had come through them relatively unscathed. "He's a fighter, that boy."

  "He's seen his share of grief for one so young," Jon said with a thoughtful air. "These are tough times."

  Rocky felt a sigh rise to the surface. "That he has, and I'm afraid I haven't always been there for him-or Rachel, for that matter."

  "Don't beat yourself up, Rock. You and Sarah have done the best you could. Besides, there's always tomorrow. Look on the bright side; Doc says the worst of the sickness is over. Only a few new cases have popped up around Jessamine County in the past week, and that's something to cheer about."

  Rocky had to agree. "What brings you out here?" he asked, feeling the need to change the subject.

  "I had to see how my old pal was far
ing since the fire. Given that the outbreak has slowed down, folks are moving about more now. Church services will resume on Sunday. I wanted to let you and Sarah know." Rocky's lifelong friend scanned his surroundings. "Nice bedroom addition, Rock. You do fine work. This to be for you and Sarah?"

  Rocky felt unexpected heat creep up his neck. He gave a quick turn of his body and bent to pick up his hammer and a bag of nails. "It's for the girl. She's been sharing a room with her brother."

  "Mighty unselfish act, you giving her a brand-new room and all."

  "It's the least I can do."

  Jon inclined his blond head. "You and Sarah make a fine couple, Rocky. You two doing all right now that some time has passed?"

  "Sure," he replied in haste. As usual, Jon seemed to read him like a book.

  "Remember when you tried to convince Ben and me you'd seen a bear out on Sunset Ridge? We were what, ten or eleven maybe? You had Ben fooled, but not me. I saw right through that red, lying face of yours." Jon's eyes twinkled.

  It irked Rocky that he'd never been successful at fooling Jon. Perhaps it was Jon's spiritual training or his fundamental capacity to read others' thoughts. "So what's your point?"

  Jon shrugged. "You and Sarah started out on shaky ground. Getting to know someone intimately doesn't happen instantly, even while living under the same roof. Give it time."

  Rocky laughed amiably. "And what makes you the expert along those lines?"

  Jon chuckled. "I suppose it did sound presumptuous coming from a bachelor."

  "Not that I think you're entirely innocent when it comes to women, Atkins. I've seen you turn a few heads."

  Jon gave an impatient wave. "Naw."

  Rocky stepped forward and gave his friend a goodhumored smack in the arm. "Don't act so surprised. You've been charming women all your life, and you know it."

  Even though Jon was a man of the cloth, he had an amiable way about him that attracted most womenfolk. Even the married ones ogled over his charismatic personality. It amazed Rocky that no woman had managed to snag him in marriage.