Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2)
Page 27
Rocky forced a smile and tried to appear undaunted. "She said she'd be here, so she will. You need to find something to do while you wait. Why don't you have Rachel read to you?"
Rachel, who sat on the couch, was perfectly content to bury herself in her latest book, one of Rocky's many classics. She glanced up at the mention of her name. "Come here, Seth," she said, patting the place beside her. "I'll read a chapter to you.
Rocky threw the girl an appreciative look. Just then, he heard the sound of an approaching wagon and headed for the window. It would be at least the dozenth time he'd peered out over the landscape, hoping for Sarah's arrival. He didn't know why he couldn't throw off this overwhelming sense of concern. Seth hastily ran to his side. "Who is it, Uncle Rocky?"
Rocky squinted to get a better view. "Looks like your grandma and grandpap."
"Yea!" Seth squealed and ran to the door to swing it wide. Rachel jumped up from her seat, threw down the heavy book, and ran out the door ahead of Seth.
Rocky found himself leaning in the doorway watching as Frank and Mary Callahan exited their wagon, Frank going first so he could offer his wife assistance. His father had grown frailer, Rocky noted, but he still had that glow about him. Rocky suspected it came from living with Mary, always a positive and cheery influence.
On their way to the house, the children flanking them, Rocky's parents waved a greeting. "Hello, son. I hope we're not intruding," Frank said. "Your mother insisted the weather was far too nice for wasting. Talked me into taking her for a drive. Somehow, we wound up here."
"Glad to see you," Rocky said. "Come on in. I can offer you a glass of lemonade."
"We won't stay long," Mary said with a warm smile, pulling her son down to her level so she could plant a kiss on his cheek. "I want to say hello to your pretty wife. I brought her the recipes she's been asking for."
"She's not here right now."
Mary's eyes roamed the house as if she didn't believe him. "Not here? Where on earth is she?"
"She drove into town."
"My goodness! Alone?" The idea seemed to strike Mary Callahan as absurd. All her life she'd depended on her husband to drive her most everywhere, although she had driven the wagon to Rocky's house on rare occasions. Apparently she couldn't abide the notion that some women had a pent-up desire for independence.
"We just came from town, but we didn't see her," Frank said, a frown forming on his already wrinkled brow.
Rocky motioned for them to sit, feigning nonchalance. "That's not so unusual."
"Little Hickman is just that, son-little. Can't very well come away from there without namin' all and sundry's whereabouts and the purchases they made. I can even name everyone's horses I saw hitched today, not to mention whose wagon is whose. Didn't see yours, though. Nope."
Rocky chuckled. His father's narrative of the tiny community was true enough. It seemed a place where few secrets went unshared. It did make him wonder why they hadn't spotted Sarah. Still, he wouldn't let on that it bothered him. He walked to the kitchen, Rachel on his heels. The girl reached for five glasses without his even asking her. Apparently she'd spent enough time watching Sarah to know the ins and outs of hospitality. When she went for the pitcher of lemonade on her own, he decided to let her finish the chore.
"Stage came into town today," Frank muttered half-heart- edly.
Rocky dropped into a chair across the room from his parents. "The stage?"
"Yep. Folks was complainin' 'bout it bein' late. Guess it dropped a wheel midway. Driver had to send a horseman out for help."
Rachel handed glasses of lemonade to her grandparents, then returned to the kitchen. Rocky watched her with pride before turning his attention back to Frank. "You don't miss much, do you, Pa? Bet you can even describe the passengers."
His father grinned. "Only because I heard a couple of 'em complainin' about the finely dressed Boston lawyer who rode in with them. Guess it bothered the man plenty when the wheel come off. Big inconvenience for the city fellow." Frank harrumphed. "Don't know what Hickman needs with a lawyer."
An unnerving thought surfaced then froze in Rocky's brain.
Stephen Alden.
Impossible, he thought. Still, it would explain why Sarah had insisted on going to town alone. If she planned to meet up with her former beau, she wouldn't want her husband interfering. But this was Sarah. Surely, she didn't plan to leave them now, not after all they'd been through together. Hadn't she just confirmed this morning that God had led her straight to him and the children?
Suddenly, he knew what he had to do. "Ma, Pa-would you mind awful much-um, staying with the kids while I go into town? I should probably see what's keeping Sarah. For all I know she's run into some sort of trouble."
"Didn't mean to worry you none," Frank said. "But it couldn't hurt to check. 'Course we'll stay with the youngins."
"What about our picnic?" Seth protested. "When will you be back?"
Rocky rose and went to the boy, patting him on the head for assurance. "We'll be back before you know it." He could only pray he spoke the truth.
arch fumbled with her handkerchief, swiping every so often at her sticky brow and casting nervous glances in both directions as she and Stephen took the wooden sidewalk to Emma Browning's boardinghouse, where Stephen had booked a room for one night's stay. Oh, she hoped no one had seen her go into or leave the bank with Stephen. The last thing she wanted to do was give rise to false rumors. Bill Whittaker, the bank president and the man with whom they'd done their business, was enough to worry about, his beady eyes bulging with astonishment when Stephen had explained Sarah's financial position, her wish to open an account for the new schoolhouse, and her plan to put the remainder of her assets into multiple accounts using her and her husband's names. Of course, the banker had maintained an air of professionalism, but she couldn't help but wonder how much of it was genuine.
"I should think this will cancel out your husband's need for a loan on that barn," he'd stated from behind the big oak desk that separated him from Sarah and Stephen.
"That is entirely up to him, Mr. Whittaker," she'd replied, annoyed that he should bring the personal matter up in front of Stephen.
The stuffy little man cleared his throat. "Of course, of course."
"Are we done here, Stephen?" she'd asked, anxious to leave the small office, whose windows exposed them to the rest of the bank and its incoming customers.
Stephen closed up his briefcase and stood, extending his hand across the desk. Sarah took that to mean they were indeed finished.
"Thank you, Mr. Whittaker," Stephen had said. "I should think you won't need my services after today."
Mr. Whittaker's chest puffed unduly when he shook Stephen's hand. "I believe I can handle things from here, Mr. Alden."
At that, they'd left the place, Sarah taking care to keep her face pointed downward, unsure of just who was in the bank at the time to watch their departure.
"Thank you for all you've done, Stephen," Sarah said as they climbed the steps to Emma's porch. "You've been a wonderful friend to me. I'm sorry about the grief you had to go through getting here. It couldn't have been pleasant for you disembarking that stage and waiting for three hours along a dusty road while they repaired the wheel."
He gave a casual shrug. "It's the least I can do for someone as special as you, Sarah Woodward Callahan. Hmm, your name has a nice ring to it now that I've grown accustomed to the idea of your marriage."
She couldn't help but laugh. "You'd better say that since you're about to claim a wife for yourself. You're very blessed, you know. Nancy is a wonderful woman."
His face creased into a full smile. "I'm coming to love and appreciate her more with every day. Perhaps I should thank you for that."
"Why me?"
"When I finally reached the conclusion that there was no hope for a future with you, my eyes opened up to other possibilities. That's when I discovered Nancy Belmont. To think she was right there under my nose most of my life!"
His expression stilled, grew more serious. "It's been an interesting journey.
"Nancy is a woman of great faith, as you know. I'm humbled when I think that she would love me in spite of my spiritual weaknesses. It seems I have quite a distance to travel to catch up to her level of spirituality, but I've discovered that God is faithful and patient. Although this may sound odd to you, I've come to lean on both Nancy and God for my spiritual lessons. Imagine me leaning on a woman, Sarah!"
She burst out laughing. "Oh, Stephen, I can't even picture it.
Their laughter mingled for a time before Stephen moved to the wicker swing on Emma Browning's porch and motioned for her to sit beside him.
Sarah wasn't at all sure of the appropriateness of such a move, especially in light of how late the hour was getting. Her family was waiting for her. Her family. It sounded so right. She pulled back her sleeve to look at her watch. "I should be leaving soon.
"We haven't had much time to talk, Sarah. Just give me a few more minutes. I want you to tell me more about your husband and these children."
"Oh, well, I suppose a few minutes couldn't hurt, but then I must be going. We're going on a little family outing this afternoon. I'm sure Seth and Rachel are growing anxious for my return. I had told them I wouldn't be long at all, and then with your delay, well, at least I was able to make all my purchases while I waited for the stage to come in."
"You're rambling, Sarah. Come and ramble beside me."
She laughed. "All right, but fifteen minutes is my limit."
He nodded. "Sounds perfectly fair to me."
Rocky dismounted his horse and tied him next to his wagon, which he'd found parked behind the bank. No wonder his parents hadn't spotted it earlier. He could think of no reason why Sarah would have parked the rig back here unless it was to keep out of sight, which he found unlikely. What could his wife possibly have to hide?
He thought about the Boston lawyer his father had mentioned and the absurd notion that Stephen Alden might have returned to claim Sarah for himself. "Ridiculous," he murmured. There had to be some other logical reason for her coming to town alone.
"Mr. Callahan!" He turned in time to discover Mrs. Winthrop lifting her skirts in a hurried approach, a look of consternation etched into her already hard-lined face.
"Mrs. Winthrop, what can I do for you?" Something told him she had plenty on her mind, what with the way she marched across the street, her skirts whooshing to and fro.
"I wondered when you might put in an appearance."
"That so?" Rocky pushed back a wave of irritation. "Why is that?"
"Why, to tend to your wife, of course. Word has it she is cavorting with some dapper lawyer from Boston. I saw them together in the bank myself tending to some transaction or another. Of course, I stayed cleverly hidden."
The bank? "Well, I hardly think cavorting is a fair choice of words, Mrs. Winthrop," he answered in a clipped tone. It annoyed him plenty that the woman seemed to know more about his wife's business dealings than he did.
"Piff!" she scoffed, her wrinkled countenance revealing displeasure. "I should think you would have escorted her yourself rather than allowed her to meet with that smart-looking young man from Boston. Why, I fear the rumors will fly, Mr. Callahan."
"I'm sure you'll see to that," he mumbled between his teeth, lifting his hat and swiping a hand through his hair.
"Pardon?" she asked.
"Nothing. Did you happen to see which way my wife headed?"
"Of course. She and that man have gone to Emma Browning's boardinghouse. Sitting right there on her porch for all to see." Mrs. Winthrop clicked her tongue in disgust. "They might have at least had the decency to conceal their improper behavior."
Rather than qualify her remark, Rocky tipped his hat at the woman and turned on his heel.
Uncommonly bright sunshine filtered through afternoon clouds, lending warmth to the early spring air. Rocky walked along, his boot heels clicking on the wooden sidewalk as he made his way down Main Street. Folks passed him and nodded, withholding their opinions, he was sure, for they weren't their usual friendly selves.
What is Sarah up to? he wondered. Had she indeed connived with Alden to make her way back East? But if that were the case, why hadn't she told him? Weren't they on better terms than that? Or were there things about him that intimidated her? He knew he hadn't always been easy to live with. Still, he'd never forced her to stay; matter of fact, he'd offered to send her back if life in Hickman proved too much of a hardship and had even tried to convince her that she wasn't cut out for farm life. Now he regretted those words. What would he do if she left them?
Suddenly, Sarah's laughter carried over the gentle breezes, followed by Alden's deeper chortle. Rocky stopped short and found himself hunkered down behind the trunk of a budding oak, spying like some scheming adolescent on the two who sat together on Emma's porch swing, acting as if they hadn't a care in the world. Had she completely forgotten about her promise to hurry home? Did it mean nothing to her that Seth and Rachel waited eagerly for her return? A heavy dose of irritation played at his nerves.
Stephen Alden was as Rocky remembered-short and willowy, lacking much of a muscular build, no doubt a result of having spent his days behind a desk pushing a pen. His welldressed manner exuded professionalism and wealth, as did the gold chain adorning his lapels and the fine-looking hat he held across his lap. His slicked-back hair, neatly parted in the middle, had not one strand out of place despite the spring breeze. Rocky hated to think how much grease it must have taken him to set it in place. Rocky raked a hand through his own longish hair and mentally scolded himself for not paying a visit to the town barber.
"It's been wonderful seeing you again," Alden was saying.
Rocky's gut twisted into a tight knot. He wanted to march onto the porch and haul the guy away by the nape of his skinny neck. How dare he talk to his wife in such an intimate manner!
"I've felt like such a heel," he said. "It was a nasty way to part in January"
"That's over and done with," Sarah said. "We can be friends from now on."
Just about the time Rocky intended to interrupt the pleasant conversation, the front door opened and Emma Browning appeared. Rocky fitted himself behind the tree once more, worried that Emma would spot him for sure if she planned to leave the boardinghouse.
"Could I interest either of you in a glass of lemonade?" she asked, innocent as you please. Did she not think it strange that a married woman was entertaining a man on her front porch?
"None for me, thank you," Alden answered.
At that, Sarah studied her watch. "Oh my, I must be getting back."
Now there's an interesting thought, Rocky mulled to himself.
Just then, footsteps from behind alerted him to the fact he wasn't alone. When he turned he discovered Jonathan Atkins breathing down his back.
"Spying on your wife, are you?" Jon whispered, highly amused.
"Shh," Rocky hushed, yanking his friend up next to him, miffed that Jon had come across him, yet angrier with Sarah that she'd put him in this awkward position.
"What are you doing, Rock?" Jon asked in a loud whisper.
"I was looking for my wife."
"It seems you've found her. Why are you hiding?"
"She's entertaining her previous beau. Doesn't that strike you as odd?" Rocky hissed.
"Not until I've heard her reasons for it."
"It can't be good."
"Why do you say that?"
"Look at them huddled together on that that fancy swing.
"They're not huddled."
Something caught Emma's attention, for she glanced from the porch and spoke loud enough for all to hear, "Isn't that the reverend hiding behind the tree?"
Rocky squeezed his eyes shut and gave a low moan. All of a sudden, Jon moved into clear vi
ew, pulling Rocky with him. "I wasn't hiding. Matter of fact, I was enjoying my daily stroll when I came upon my friend here." He whacked Rocky in the arm, knocking him off kilter. "Afternoon, folks."
A loud gasp escaped Sarah's throat. "Rocky! What-are you doing here? Where are the children?" Her wide eyes held confusion and shock.
Filled with new resolve, Rocky approached the porch, pure annoyance bubbling to the surface. "The kids are fine. Ma and Pa are with them. As far as what I'm doing here, I might ask you the same question."
"I-I can explain everything."
Stephen Alden rose to his feet. "Well, Callahan-we meet again." The scrawny fellow stepped forward to extend a hand, but Rocky refused to take it, so he turned his attention on Jon. "And this is the preacher?"
"Hickman's one and only," Jon answered, shaking Alden's hand as if they were old acquaintances. "Name's Jonathan Atkins. Jon will do. And you are?"
"Stephen Alden. I practice law in Boston, back where Sarah hails from. She and I are dear friends. In fact, we've just been rehashing old times-all quite innocent, I might add." The man's eyes carried a twinkle that Rocky would have delighted in gouging out.
After offering the shyster a distracted nod, Rocky eyed his wife with suspicion while addressing the lawyer. "Is that so? I can't imagine why she didn't inform me you were in town."
"I'm sure she'll be happy to inform you later."
"What's wrong with right now?" Rocky asked, his temper flaring. He noted Sarah's mouth remained open, her eyes unblinking.
"I believe you'll want to speak in private," Alden replied, his tone surprisingly controlled, throwing Rocky for a loop, considering his initial impression of the fellow had been that he was a hothead.
Rocky gave Sarah his full attention. "Did you forget about our plans for a family picnic?"
A flicker of apprehension flashed in her eyes. "I wouldn't forget something as important as that." She took another hasty peek at her watch as if to reassure herself. "There's still plenty of time."