"The stage was delayed," Stephen put in. "If Sarah is tardy it's only because she was waiting for me."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Rocky sputtered. "My wife tells me she has errands to run, and when she doesn't arrive home in a timely manner and I begin to worry, I discover that she's been keeping company with her former beau."
"Unfortunately, I was never her beau," Stephen put in.
"Of course, it was Iris Winthrop who pointed me in the right direction," Rocky said, ignoring Alden.
"Oh dear," Sarah gasped. "I'm sorry"
"Of course, that was after she informed me she had spotted you at the bank together, making a transaction." It was hard not to sound angry.
Sarah's shoulders dropped. "I can explain all that."
"You couldn't have enlightened me earlier?"
"I didn't that is, I wasn't sure-" She stopped when Jon cleared his throat.
"Uh, I think perhaps I'll be on my way," Jon said. "Miss Emma, would you care to walk with me?" Rocky sensed the invitation had a twofold purpose: one, to escape the awkward situation; and two, to discuss the possibility of taking a room in her boardinghouse.
"Me?" Emma Browning clutched her throat in obvious surprise.
As far as Rocky knew, the young woman had never set foot inside a house of worship, much less associated with a man of the cloth. A part of him wished he could tag along to eavesdrop on the tete-a-tete, but right now, he was too distracted to care much what transpired between the two.
Jon gave a low-timbered chuckle. "Someone tell her I promise not to bite."
"He won't bite," Rocky mumbled.
Emma's brow furrowed. "I guess a bit of fresh air couldn't hurt."
Jon looped his arm for her, but Emma snubbed the offer, sticking her hands in her pockets instead. Another day Rocky might have laughed.
Everyone watched as the two strolled toward town. Stephen broke the silence when he stretched and yawned. "I don't know what anyone sees in this town, but I'm pleased that Sarah seems happy." That said, Alden actually smiled. "I suppose I have you to thank for that, Callahan."
A little of Rocky's anger was defused on the spot. He rested one foot on the first porch step and stared at the man. "You haven't tried to talk my wife into going back East?"
Alden threw back his head and laughed. "You can relax, Callahan. Your wife is staying put. I only came to offer legal counsel and, well, as I said earlier, this is something you'll want to discuss in private."
A wave of relief washed over him, but he refused to show it. "I see." Actually, he didn't see, but he supposed he was willing to listen to reason when the time came for talking. One thing was certain-his wife had a bit of explaining to do.
The return home was anything but pleasant. Rocky had hitched his horse to the back of the wagon and taken over the reins. Sarah sat rigid beside him, waiting for him to speak, noting the set of his stubborn jaw, where every so often a muscle quivered, observing out of the corner of one eye his fixed gaze on the road ahead.
She had expected a tongue-lashing but had received a blanket of silence instead. In her mind, she tried to prepare what she would say when questioned, but she couldn't for the life of her formulate anything that sounded reasonable. Any rationale she may have had for keeping her financial resources a secret now seemed foolish. Surely, her husband wasn't so prideful that he couldn't allow her to use her wealth to help the town and him. Still, as the minutes ticked on and he continued to hold his tongue, she began to doubt herself. Perhaps even now he was wishing Stephen Alden truly had come to take her back East.
Just as the first signs of smoke rising from the cabin's little chimney came into view, Sarah chanced a bit of conversation. "I'm sure the children are anxious to commence with our picnic.
For the first time, Rocky turned his unspeaking gaze on her. A chill ran the length of her as his icy blue eyes drilled straight to her core. "I believe you and I have some talking to do first."
"Can't that wait until afterward?"
He shook his head. "We'll tell them that something has come up and send them out to play."
"But they'll be so disappointed."
His lips puckered with annoyance. "You should have thought of that when you were dallying with Alden."
"Dallying?"
"What would you call it?"
"We had business to conduct."
"On Emma Browning's front porch?" His tone was heavy with sarcasm.
Sarah sighed. "You know what I mean."
Like a streak of lightning, disbelief flashed across his face. "No, Sarah, I do not. When you left today, you said you had a few errands to run and some supplies to pick up. You gave no indication that you intended to meet up with Alden. How do you think it made me feel to arrive in town only to discover you had been seen with him? What am I supposed to think, Sarah?"
Realizing too late it was time for to lay things on the table, she sent up a silent prayer for wisdom. "When I took the rig into town on Monday, I spoke to Stephen on the telephone. We made arrangements then for his visit."
He looked frustrated. "I don't see why you couldn't have told me."
She gave a resigned shrug. "I didn't think you would understand."
As they drew nearer the cabin, Sarah spotted her in-laws' wagon. They would want to know where she'd been.
,Just then, Seth sailed out the door and off the front porch, setting off on a run in their direction. "Aunt Sarah, Uncle Rocky!" he squealed with great enthusiasm. "You're back. Can we go on ar picnic now?"
Sarah winced, knowing that Rocky was about to burst the boy's bubble. Worse was the knowledge that it was all her fault.
"Go back to the house, Seth," Rocky said with great control when the boy came within hearing range.
Frank and Mary, along with Rachel, stepped out onto the porch and waved. It was a regular welcoming committee, Sarah mused. Seth spun and ran back to the house, jumping on the porch to join his sister and grandparents, while Rocky maneuvered the wagon down the path toward home.
A knot the size of a boulder lay in the pit of Sarah's stomach, rolling over and over until she felt ill. Lord, please help me explain things so they sound reasonable.
But no great sense of peace followed her prayer.
11%a12e4 .,twew--(-P"ce
rank and Mary Callahan boarded their wagon and left as soon as Rocky thanked them for coming. Something in his expression must have spoken volumes, for they didn't linger, only hugging Sarah and saying they were happy she was safe.
Rocky chased the children outside, much to their chagrin, and announced there'd be no picnic today. He supposed he could have informed them in a less harsh manner, but he wanted to finish his conversation with Sarah, and the sooner the better. The children's feelings weren't first on his mind. Even Seth's tears of disappointment and Rachel's look of despondency hadn't swayed him.
"Are you two havin' a fight?" Rachel asked while yanking a sweater off the hook. The afternoon sun had dropped behind the clouds and ushered in cooler air. Attentive sister that she was, she handed Seth his jacket.
"Sarah and I have a matter to discuss-in private," he added for emphasis.
Rachel looked from him to Sarah, her eyes dancing with apprehension. "Does it have somethin' to do with Sarah comin' home late? Are you mad at her?"
"This doesn't concern you, Rachel," he snapped.
Something wistful and worrisome flashed in her eyes. "My ma and pa used to fight a lot," she confessed.
When he might have responded with reassurance, Rocky instead blurted, "We're not your ma and pa."
Sarah let out a quiet gasp and stepped forward. "What your uncle means is..."
Rachel's shoulders straightened, and her jaw jutted forward. "He means he's not our pa," she declared, "and he's glad of it." When Seth's tears fell harder, Rachel pushed him out the door. "We didn't want to go on some dumb picnic anyway. Come on, Seth; we're not wanted here." With that, she slammed the door, something Rocky clearly would not have stoo
d for any other day.
"Why did you have to say that? You hurt their feelings."
"I didn't mean it the way it came out," he protested. "I just meant we're different from their parents. It came out wrong. I'll set things right with them later."
Out the window, Rocky caught sight of the pair marching toward the chicken yard. He released a loud breath and headed for the coffee pot. "Want some coffee?" he asked, raising the pot to her after filling a tin mug.
"I don't especially-like coffee," she announced.
Temporarily speechless, he stared at her for several seconds, brows arched. "No? You could have told me."
She shrugged, then walked to the window to watch the children. Rocky plunked his mug down on the table, irritated, and pulled out a chair. "Come and sit down, Sarah," he said. "You have some explaining to do."
She turned from the window and faced him, her expression a picture of newfound resolve. This was the stubborn woman he remembered meeting that first day in Winthrop's Dry Goods. "I'd rather stand," she retorted, her pert little chin jutting forward, her green eyes glinting with ire.
Gritting his teeth, he sought to settle the turbulence. He wagged a finger at her in invitation and pointed at the chair again. "Come on. It'll be much easier if we both sit. I promise to listen with an open mind."
Looking like she didn't believe him, she slowly unfolded her arms and walked to the chair he still held for her. Once she finally sat, he plopped into a chair on the other side of the table. "Start at the beginning," he said, leaning forward, elbows on the table. "Why'd you send for Alden?"
She chewed on her bottom lip for at least a full minute while Rocky set to tapping lightly on the tabletop. Finally, she inhaled deeply and lowered her lashes. "I am a very wealthy woman," she more or less whispered.
He didn't know why her confession made him want to laugh outright. Maybe because he'd expected something a bit more enlightening. "I gathered that much."
His teasing remark made her lift her head, meet his gaze. "No, Rocky, I'm quite serious. I am the sole beneficiary of my parents' estate."
"Okay."
She made a clicking noise with her tongue and grimaced. "We're talking-about a lot of money-and property." Again, she lowered her eyes, then drew an invisible pattern in the tablecloth.
He sat up straighter. "Your wealth aside, I asked you about Alden. What made him come all the way to Hickman? Couldn't you have conducted your-your business dealings-whatever they amounted to, over the telephone?"
She drew in a long, measured breath. "He preferred to meet with our banker in person when the transfer of funds took place, and to aid me in any financial or legal questions I may have had."
It took great concentration not to interrupt her, not to ask why he hadn't been included in this important matter. But then he could guess her reasons for excluding him. She'd pretty much been living with a bear these past months-an unreasonable, quick-tempered one at that.
"When my mother died she left a will that stated I must marry before I could collect on my inheritance. When Stephen came in January, he handed me a letter my mother had written him before she died. In it she stated her wish for him to marry me. He thought it would be enough to convince me, particularly when he learned I hadn't married Benjamin Broughton." She gave a sullen smile. "My mother thought the sun rose and set on Stephen Alden. I don't think she realized that Stephen loved my money more than he loved me, the person."
Rocky shook his head as if to rid himself of his building confusion. "So you married me in order to claim your assets? Is that it?"
She blinked. "Certainly not. My marrying you had nothing to do with that. In fact, earthly possessions hold little value for me personally. I grew up in utter affluence, Rocky, and have since learned that it is no substitute for peace and happiness. No, my marrying you went far deeper than any desire I might have had for claiming my inheritance. As soon as I met those children, I-well, I saw a need that I could help meet."
A tremor touched her smooth, full lips, and suddenly he remembered what it felt like to kiss them. He pushed the memory aside and asked, "So why lay claim to your fortune at all if it means nothing to you?"
Her shiny eyes took on a life of their own, glistening with a sheen of purpose, while a few strands of her burgundy hair fell loosely about her neck, creating in Rocky a river of need to reach out and touch it. "Although I am not interested in my money for what it can do for me, I am aware of what it can mean to others."
Instantly filled with curiosity, he urged, "Tell me what you mean.
She swallowed hard, then nervously fingered a few stray curls. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"I wouldn't have asked otherwise."
Bracing herself, she blurted, "I would very much like to provide financial backing for the new school."
Unsure how to respond, he gaped wide-eyed. Seconds must have turned to minutes. "Is that right?"
Nervously, she shifted in her straight-back chair. "I happen to think it's a good idea," she asserted, drawing back her shoulders. "It's not as if the folks of Hickman are rolling in money right now, Rocky. I daresay life is a struggle for most of them, but I've come to appreciate their diligence.
"When I discovered that Reverend Atkins had decided to sell his home to erect a new church building, I was flabbergasted by his generosity, not to mention his passion for Hickman's dear citizens. I knew at that point that if he could make such a sacrifice, surely I could do my part. I know that I should have consulted you on this matter; we are, after all, in this marriage together."
"That we are," Rocky answered, enamored by her explanation.
"And we should have made a decision of this magnitude jointly," she added.
He nodded. "Again, you're right."
"I don't know how the townsfolk would react to a newly arrived citizen making such a donation," she rambled, "so for that reason I'd like this offer to remain anonymous, if possible."
"The town will no doubt speculate where such a hefty donation came from," Rocky replied, "but I'm sure we could arrange for Bill Whittaker to keep his mouth shut, particularly once he discovers that a mere slip of the tongue could land your account in State Bank of Lexington. Bill's too fond of his money to nourish rumors that might jeopardize his future."
Biting her lip, she looked out the window toward the vacant space where the barn had once stood. "I know I've said it before, but there is more than enough to put up a new barn. A grand barn," she tacked on. He revealed a hint of a smile. It amazed him how much he'd mellowed since inviting God to regain control of his life. Still, he wasn't quite ready to let her off the hook.
"And I told you before I don't need your money."
"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" she asked in a rush of words. "It doesn't make sense to borrow from the bank when we have enough to build a hundred fine barns."
Rocky's eyebrows shot up of their own accord. "A hundred?"
"More than that," she answered with no emotion.
"Just how much money do you have, Sarah?"
A shamefaced look moved across her face. "I'll show you my financial papers if you're interested."
Rocky sat back in his chair to stretch out his long legs and cross his arms over his broad chest. "File the papers away for now, Sarah. I'll study on them later when I'm more in the mood."
"Are you very angry with me?" she asked, voice dropping to a hoarse murmur.
Angry? There were emotions to sort through, of course, but he wouldn't say they involved anger. Awe, maybe. Naturally, it surprised him to discover just how wealthy a woman he'd married, and it pleased him to learn how willing she was to give up a portion of that wealth to erect a schoolhouse for the citizens of Hickman. What surprised him most, however, was his own reaction to the news. Shoot, he was even envisioning a fancy new barn-paid for in full.
If he were honest with himself, he'd have to admit to having harbored some resentment, perhaps even outright hostility, when it came to Sarah's wealth. Deep down he
'd feared it would drive a wedge between them, particularly once she grasped the vast differences in their backgrounds and realized that life in Hickman was a far cry from Boston. He'd been certain that when she came to terms with their dissimilarities, she would jump the next train back East. That hadn't been the case, though, and as if to prove him wrong, she'd seemingly grown accustomed to the tough and taxing way of life, making him love her more than ever.
"I'm not angry, Sarah. Just a little puzzled."
She cleared her throat and stirred. "Puzzled?"
He pulled in his long legs and pushed back his chair. Rising, he walked around the table and extended his hand to her. Placing her palm in his, she slid gracefully out of her chair, their bodies facing. "I still can't quite believe you chose us, Sarah, but I'm grateful," he murmured, hands now on her slender waist. "I'm beginning to believe God really did send you to Hickman." He leaned close and whispered. "I'm a slow learner."
He loved the sound of her lighthearted giggle.
"God has been working on me, Sarah. I was a bitter man after losing my wife and son, but I have a new family now, and I don't want to blow my chances at that. Yes, there've been a few setbacks-the fire, almost losing Rachel, and then Seth's illness-but who am I to question God's plan? I'm determined to lead this family by example, and I'd appreciate your help." He bit his lower lip until the pain gave him courage to continue. "There's something else."
"Yes?" Her misty, sea-green eyes explored his face.
Eager to kiss her completely, he moved his hands to her shoulders and locked gazes with her. "You've come to mean a great deal to me in these past months. I know I've been remiss in showing you just how much." At a loss for words, he bent at the waist and kissed her briefly on the mouth. Pulling back, their eyes met again, hers warm and forgiving, lending him courage. "My feelings go much deeper than friendship, Sarah."
"They do?" she asked, a smile growing on her rosy mouth.
He cupped her cheeks with his hands, and a kind of joy, like a freed eagle, threw wide the door to his heart.
Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) Page 28