Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2)

by Sharlene MacLaren

  Just not tomorrow.

  That particular moment might have been suitable for explaining Stephen's coming in on the early stage, but as soon as she'd opened her mouth, Rocky had already headed for the door.

  "Well, you give it some thought, and when I get home tonight we can discuss it over supper." At the door, he had turned the latch, then swiveled on his heel to face her. "Oh, thanks for packing me a lunch. This will save me a trip in at noon. I expect I'll have the north end plowed by late afternoon." He'd tipped one corner of his battered Stetson upward, awarded her with a wink and generous smile, and then closed the door behind him.

  The children's chatter had brought her back to reality. "Can I help bake the cake, Aunt Sarah?" Rachel had asked. "Where's the broom?" Seth had asked at the same moment.

  And so the morning had gone.

  By late afternoon, Rocky had plowed the north portion of his land and a quarter of the south portion when he decided to call it a day. Grimy with sweat, he wiped his brow with his well-used handkerchief and surveyed his work. At this rate, and provided the weather held out, planting could begin as early as the end of next week. Unhitching the horses from the plow, he led them back toward home.

  The wonderful aroma of roast beef and potatoes greeted him as soon as he opened the door. Dressed in yellow gingham, Sarah looked pretty as a spring blossom. For a moment, he stood in the doorway, whiffing the fine smells and gazing at the woman. How did she manage to look so stunningly beautiful after a hard day's work? If he'd felt more at ease he might have planted a kiss on the back of her creamy neck. As it was, she barely acknowledged his presence, merely giving him a hint of a smile, and then proceeding to dish up the food and issue orders to the children to wash up and help finish setting the table. If anything, she looked as jumpy as a cat in a dog pen.

  Throughout the meal, the children babbled nonstop, losing Rocky in most of their silly prattle. Sarah seemed to take every available opportunity to leave the table, first to dish up more potatoes and replenish the meat tray, then to refill everyone's water glasses, all the while avoiding eye contact with Rocky. When they were finished, she took to clearing off the table, washing dishes, and leaving him to deal with the children's chatter.

  "What do you think, Uncle Rocky?" Rachel was asking.

  "Huh?" he asked. "About what?"

  Rachel scowled. "Weren't you listening?"

  He gave a helpless shrug, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms. "I'm afraid you caught me," he admitted with a smile.

  The girl heaved an impatient sigh. "Me and Seth want to go fishin' sometime. Can you take us?"

  "Fishing?"

  "Yeah, Uncle Rocky. I know you gots some fishin' poles 'cause I seen 'em hangin' on the wall in one of yer sheds," Seth confessed, his eyes big as saucers.

  Rocky's gut twisted briefly when he thought about the few times he'd taken Joseph down to Little Hickman Creek on a fishing spree. At one time, the memories might have kept him from such a venture, but now he marveled at how appealing the whole idea sounded. "Fishing, huh?"

  "Can we?" Seth asked.

  "Yeah, can we, Uncle Rocky?"

  Unsure what Sarah was thinking because she'd failed to join in the conversation, Rocky went out on a limb. "Well now, fishing sounds like a mighty fine way to spend the day tomorrow. What do you say, Sarah?"

  At that, she whirled around to face the three of them, her face a picture of bewilderment. She put a soapy hand to her throat, leaving a trace of suds on her chin. "It's-awfully short notice."

  Rocky pushed back his chair and stood, the soapsuds demanding attention. When he advanced on her, she quickly turned her face to the sink. "Short notice?" he asked, walking up behind her. "Did you forget about my suggestion this morning to take the day off tomorrow?" This he whispered in her ear, drawing close enough to inhale her delicious scent. With a quick swipe of his thumb, he removed the dab of lingering soap and didn't miss the slight shiver his touch provoked.

  Oh, it pleased him that his closeness riled her, and so he put a hand to the back of her neck and played with the fine tendrils that had fallen from their loose chignon. He wished she would wear her hair down as she'd done when he first met her, even though it'd been prone to fly every which way, as abundantly lush and curly as it was.

  He leaned in closer yet, feeling her shoulders go taut. "We could pack a lunch and eat it on the riverbank," he whispered, "provided the weather continues its sunny, mild pattern."

  "I don't..." At a loss for words, she did not finish her sentence.

  "Can we go fishin' tomorrow?" Seth asked from the table.

  "Shh-can't you see they're discussin' it?" Rachel issued. "If you beg too much they won't take us."

  Rocky noted a tiny smile peek through on Sarah's shapely mouth. "I suppose we could go first thing in the morning, but I'd need to be back by noon."

  "Noon? Why so early?" Rocky asked. "I thought we'd make a day of it." He turned her around to face him.

  Even then, she avoided looking straight at him. "There are-things-I need to tend to," she returned in a soft voice.

  "Things?" He dipped his head to her level, which forced her eyes to meet his. "What sort of things?"

  "Well, I, um, need to make a trip into town, for one thing, some errands to run. It shouldn't take me long, however. You three could keep fishing, and once I returned we could resume our outing, perhaps have a picnic." Her eyes went bright with hope, as if her idea for breaking up the day was the best she'd ever had.

  Still, something in her manner didn't feel quite right. "And I suppose you want to make this trip to town alone-again?"

  When she gave a slow nod, he felt a scowl crimp his face. Not wanting to make an issue of the matter, but puzzled by her sudden yearning for independence, he merely tilted his head and perused her face. "Any particular reason?" he asked.

  She slanted her face upward, and the glow from a nearby lantern mirrored itself in the flecks of her blue-green eyes. "Reason?"

  He shook his head, knowing the children had sharpened their ears to hear every word. "Never mind. I suppose we can work around your schedule. We'll all set out for the creek right after breakfast and see what we can do about getting us a bucket of fish for supper. While you're in town, ahem, running errands, the three of us will pack a mouthwatering lunch. I expect you'll be arriving back shortly after we've finished with that, and then we can all go back out and find a nice shady spot for eating our spread. How does that sound?"

  "Yea! That's perfect," Rachel cheered.

  "Can we play games, too?" Seth asked, jumping to his feet and spinning circles.

  Rocky glimpsed Sarah, whose face had softened withwhat was it? Relief? A smile formed on her lovely lips, and she clapped right along with the children.

  "I don't know why not," he replied, finding it hard to conceal his own eagerness.

  Sarah had something up her sleeve, Rocky decided. Well, he'd let her play her game for now, but, by gum, before the rooster crowed day after tomorrow, he'd somehow cajole her into sharing the big secret.

  "I got me a fish!" Seth screamed early the next morning.

  Everyone gathered around to observe the line on Seth's bowed fishing pole. "Hang on to him, boy," Rocky coached. "Nice and easy now."

  "He's a big one," Seth announced, his little chest puffing out with every twist of the spool. "Am I doing it right, Uncle Rocky?"

  Rocky smiled over the boy's head and steadied him with both hands. "Couldn't do better if I was holding on to the rod myself."

  "Seth's catchin' a fish, Aunt Sarah," Rachel whispered.

  "And a big one at that," Sarah returned.

  As the reeling continued, Rocky lent encouragement. "Don't quit," he urged, just as the fish made a giant leap from the water. It looked to be a good foot long by Sarah's estimation.

  Another five minutes passed while Seth and Rocky worked together to haul the oversized rainbow trout onto the bank, its body flapping and rotating to show its complete dislike for the
outside world.

  "Is it gonna die?" Seth asked while staring at the slimy creature.

  Rocky chuckled. "I hope so. I'm not too fond of fish that move around on my plate."

  Seth continued gawking, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Rocky bent over the fish to remove the hook, then slipped his index finger through the mouth and gill and lifted it up for all to see. "Mighty fine catch."

  "What are ya gonna do with it?" asked Rachel with a somber face.

  Rocky exchanged a smile with Sarah before answering the girl. "Well, I was thinking to put him in this bucket of water. Later, I'll show you how to scale and filet him." Both kids wrinkled their noses. "What?" Rocky asked. "You two aren't going all soft on me, are you? Believe me, he's going to be a tasty fellow." Rocky held the flapping critter high, forcing the kids to examine it more closely.

  Sarah giggled low in her chest, understanding their dilemma. They'd wanted the experience of fishing, but now questioned the notion of actually eating their catch.

  "I never tasted fish before," Rachel said, her nose still crumpled.

  "Me neither," Seth exclaimed, suddenly pale. "Do we have to eat him?"

  "What?" Rocky's eyes moved from Rachel to Seth then landed on Sarah. They seemed to dance with merriment. "Isn't that why we got up at break of dawn?" he drilled. "So we could catch us some supper?" Rocky put the squirmy creature out in front of him.

  "Don't we have other stuff to eat for supper?" Seth asked.

  At that, Rocky let out a great peal of laughter. "So what you're saying is you want to let this critter go."

  "Well," Seth seemed to put the matter to deep thought, "what if he has a wife?" Rocky's face flickered with interest. "If Sarah got caught by Indians or robbers or somethin', wouldn't you want them to let her go?"

  As if understanding had suddenly dawned, Rocky bent at the waist and peered into the boy's eyes, mouth quirking. "Put like that, it makes a great deal of sense to let this guy go." And just like that, he walked to the river's edge and dropped the creature into the water with a splash.

  Near noontime, the foursome headed home, fishing poles hoisted high, Rocky carrying the tackle box and empty bucket. Along the way, a carefree kind of banter filled the air.

  When they reached a wide-open clearing about half a mile from their cozy farmhouse, Seth blurted, "Let's race to that big tree over there." He pointed to a distant, leafless oak in the middle of a stark meadow.

  Rocky halted his steps and gave the lad a slanted gaze. "How fair would that be? Look at everything I'm left to carry."

  Sarah giggled. "But you have longer legs than we do," she stated. More to the point, they were firm as tree trunks, she observed when he wasn't looking. Furthermore, there was that powerful set to his shoulders, the way the muscles strained against his flannel shirt as he strolled along.

  "Plus, you're big and strong," Rachel supplied. Sarah looked at the child. Had she read her mind?

  "And fast," Seth added.

  Rocky tossed back his head and chuckled. "Why do I suddenly feel like I'm being baited just like that poor fish Seth caught a bit ago?"

  "We let him go, remember?" Seth said.

  "Yeah, but you still caught him, made him look pretty silly hanging from that fishing line."

  "Come on, Uncle Rocky, let's race," Seth begged.

  Rocky flashed all three of them a spirited grin then rested his gaze on Sarah. "Are you up for a good race, Mrs. Callahan?"

  Sheer giddiness coursed through her blood. "Of course. The question is, are you?"

  "Oh," he said with lowered tone, "now there's an appealing challenge."

  In a desperate attempt to escape his captivating grin, Sarah put one bent leg in front of the other, lifted her skirts a few inches from the ground and, with no warning, screamed, "Ready, set, go!" taking off on a run well ahead of everyone else.

  "Hey, wait for me!" Seth yowled. But all Sarah could do was focus on the large oak yards away, her utter resolve to outrun everyone transporting a rush of adrenaline through her veins.

  She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, Rocky's thundering footsteps trailing close behind, gathering momentum the closer she came to her goal.

  Still, she reached the tree ahead of him, huffing and puffing. When she bent over to catch her breath, hand on the trunk to prove she'd won, she sensed his nearness, heard his own jagged breathing and quiet ripple of laughter. "You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" he said, placing his hand on hers. She tried to slip it out, but he wouldn't let her go. Instead, he drew in close, caressing her face and neck with his hot breath, his massive body blanketing her from behind. "I didn't know I married a runner."

  She stood frozen in place despite the beads of sweat that formed on her forehead. Out of the corner of one eye, she glimpsed Rachel and Seth. Both had slowed to a walk, their faces sagging with fatigue. Feeling a little guilty for having tricked them, she managed a weak smile for Rocky. "You let me win.

  "Is that what you think?" he asked, his mouth coming ever closer.

  "You could have easily caught up."

  "But I was enjoying the view from my vantage point." At that, she drew back from him to see into his eyes. He was teasing her, and the gentle sparring made her blush.

  "Aunt Sarah, you didn't give us a chance," Rachel said.

  "I know, and I apologize. I don't know what got into me," she declared with as much innocence as she could muster.

  "Can we have another race that's fair?" Seth asked.

  Sarah laughed. "I don't think I'm up for it, but maybe you two could race each other home. I can see the smoke rising from our chimney up ahead."

  Seth squinted to get a better view. The little house and the hodgepodge of storage sheds, chicken yard, and fenced-in corrals looked warm and inviting nestled amidst an assortment of trees and shrubbery. Horses and cows roamed freely on the hillside, nibbling at new grass. "I see it. Want to race, Rachel?"

  "Sure," she said, suddenly all full of enthusiasm. "Tell us when-um, not you, Aunt Sarah. This time Uncle Rocky will say, `Ready, set, go."'

  "That seems only right," Rocky said with a wink.

  Once the children set off, Rocky surprised Sarah by taking her hand. For a time neither spoke. They just strolled and watched as the children ran through the open field.

  "They seem happy as two larks."

  "Don't they?" Sarah said.

  "You've made it so, you know," Rocky said, giving her hand an extra squeeze. She sensed his eyes moving over her face but kept her own gaze on the children.

  "You've played a bigger part than I. They love you very much."

  "You made a home for them-for all of us," he said, ignoring her attempt to give him equal praise. "I don't know as I've ever thanked you for that."

  She dared to look at him then and found his eyes full of warmth. "No need," she said simply. "I should be thanking you.

  "Me?" He pulled her to a stop. "Why me?"

  More aware than ever that the clock was ticking closer toward noon and that she'd have to set off for town very soon, Sarah resumed walking, glad when Rocky didn't impede her progress. She chose her words carefully. "I-came to Little Hickman expecting to marry someone altogether differentand found myself in somewhat of a predicament. Your offer of marriage solved my problem."

  "Is that what I did for you? Solved a problem?"

  She hadn't wanted to sound indifferent. "Well, yes, but it's more than that. I believed with all my heart that God had a purpose for my coming to Little Hickman."

  "And do you still believe that?"

  She raised her eyes to find him still watching her. There was a depth to his expression that she'd never seen before. "Of course," she answered. "Do you?"

  A half-smile formed on his lips as he gazed at the children. Seth was squealing something at Rachel, who appeared to be quite a distance ahead of him. "I'm not sure I did at the time, but now..." He shook his head in seeming amazement, "I look at those kids and wonder how I ever doubted that they belonged
with me-with us," he amended.

  Sarah nodded her agreement. Briefly, she wondered if they were reaching a milestone in their marriage. Now would be a good time to speak of her financial assets, she ruled, and her reasons for making the trip into town. Yet she worried about breaking the wonderful spell of peace and contentment that had fallen over them. Surely there would be ample opportunity later, perhaps tonight after they'd put the children to bed.

  "I'll hitch up the horses for you," Rocky said as they drew nearer the house.

  "I appreciate that."

  Once again, she felt his eyes. "You sure you don't want me to drive you?" he asked with quiet emphasis.

  Awave of panic rose in her stomach. "I'll be perfectly fine," she hastened. "Besides, you promised to pack lunches for our picnic.

  He leaned toward her as they walked. "You best not be keeping any secrets from me, Sarah Callahan. Secrets don't bide well in a marriage, you know."

  A bitter taste like bile collected at the front of her mouth, and she loosed a nervous laugh. "I'm merely picking up some supplies and running a few errands," she said. "It shouldn't take me long at all." And meeting my lawyer, she might have added.

  "You're not planning to run off, are you?" Something in his tone drew her up short.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Nothing! That was a stupid thing to say."

  Sarah couldn't help but feel relief when she caught sight of Seth's approach, for it would mean an end to their conversation.

  "Aunt Sarah, Uncle Rocky," Seth called out, "Rachel beat me, but I came awful close to catchin' her! Did you see what a fast runner I am?"

  "That I did," Rocky said, dropping Sarah's hand and walking to meet the boy, but not before he lowered his voice and added in a huskier tone for her ears only, "I suspect you and I will be talking soon about your streak of stubbornness, Sarah Callahan."

  Rocky paced the floor of the little house, his patience running thinner by the minute. "Where is she, Uncle Rocky? I thought we was goin' on a picnic," Seth said in a complaining tone. It wasn't the first such grumble he'd heard from Seth that afternoon as they'd waited for Sarah's return. "Ar sandwiches are gonna be soggy."