Truly Yours Historical Collection December 2014

by Susan Page Davis, Paige Winship Dooly, Connie Stevens

  ❧

  “Tell me ever’thing!” Tallie rushed into Sadie’s arms as soon as the door swung open. “Are you hurt? How’s my Pax? I thought I seen him once, runnin’ to the water trough.”

  “Pax is fine. No one was hurt, unless you count a few scrapes and bruises.”

  “Did you get them two no-accounts? What happened to them?”

  Sadie frowned and led her toward the stairs. “Harry caught Dan Mitchell, but his friend got away on Clipper. We’ve probably lost that horse for good. And the barn! Oh, Tallie, it’s my fault the barn burned. We’re out half our winter’s hay, and the buggy, and all the tools and harnesses that were in there!”

  “No sense cryin’ over it now,” Tallie said. “Tell you what. You come wash up and get dressed proper, and we’ll give this crew a breakfast like they’ve only imagined before. Mm-mm! Bacon and flapjacks, eggs, coffee, hash, doughnuts. . .what else?”

  Sadie laughed, but she was on the edge of breaking down in tears.

  “What do I say to Harry?”

  Tallie paused and looked deep into her eyes. “I expect you’ll know when the time comes. All right now, put on your corset. Can’t let them gentlemen see you like that in the light of day. I’ll lace you up; then we’ll set to work. The chicken coop didn’t get burned, did it?”

  “The men let the chickens loose and hauled the coop over near your cabin. We’ll have to see how many hens come home to roost when things calm down, but I doubt we’ll get many eggs today.”

  “Well, I’ve got a couple of dozen in the springhouse. Good thing. I just wish I could have been out there helpin’ you! Maybe we could have put that fire out.”

  “It spread so fast. . . .”

  Sadie stopped in the doorway, staring in shock at the shambles of her pretty bedroom. The bedclothes had been torn from the bed, and the mattress was askew. The drawers were open, and her clothing strewn about the room. The jewelry box was gone, as was her toiletry set. Her secretary was tipped over, and her stationery scattered over the rug.

  Tallie pushed past her and stood looking at the chaos. “Well, they made a mess, but they left your clothes.” She stepped toward the old spinning wheel in the corner. “Good thing you brought your grandma’s old wheel in from the barn last winter.”

  “Yes,” Sadie agreed. “We’d have lost it for sure.”

  Tallie found Sadie’s foundation garment in the corner behind the old spinning wheel and held it out.

  “They. . .they touched it.”

  Tallie grimaced. “Let’s not fuss now. This is the time to show what kind of woman you are, missy.”

  Sadie swallowed and began to unbutton her dress.

  Nineteen

  Dawn was breaking when the men decided it was safe to leave the smoldering ruins and eat breakfast. They washed at the riverbank and came toward the house in a herd. Looking out the window, Sadie realized that more men had joined them from the town, and Mr. Kauffman and his two sons, her nearest neighbors, were among the crowd.

  She and Tallie had set up a trestle table outside the lean-to, and they had most of the food laid out already.

  “Grab that coffeepot!” Tallie edged past her with a platter of brown sausage and fried potatoes.

  They used every plate Sadie could lay her hands on, from her mother’s fine china to the battered tin ones Zeke and his sons took on hunting trips. The men stood under the singed trees or sat on the grass that was still green near the house and wolfed down the provisions. Harry mingled with the others, and once Sadie saw him deep in conversation with Pastor Richards.

  Wilfred Kauffman came back for seconds and held out his plate, grinning at Sadie. He was the older of Mr. Kauffman’s two sons, and it was obvious he was enamored of her. He was a nice enough fellow and would be a good farmer, Sadie supposed. Tenley used to play with him, but she had never liked him much. He was clumsy and a bit dense, she thought. The whole family had the same blond hair and blue eyes, but Wilfred’s dull eyes were always watching her, and she didn’t like that.

  “I’m so glad you’re all right, Sadie. We came as soon as we heard.”

  “Thank you, Wilfred.” She placed two more flapjacks on his plate.

  Mr. Glassbrenner came back to the table to refill his coffee cup. “Where’s your father?” he asked Sadie with a smile. “Not still sick, I hope?”

  Sadie gulped. “He. . .”

  “He’ll be wanting to rebuild that barn,” said Mr. Thurber, her friend Elizabeth’s father. “You tell him when he’s up to it, we’ll all come help him clean up the mess and raise a new one.”

  Mr. Glassbrenner nodded. “He’ll be needing supplies. You tell him to come by the mill and see me. We’ll work something out.”

  “Thank you.” It was all Sadie could say. She snatched up the empty biscuit platter and dashed into the lean-to.

  Harry was just coming out of the house with a pitcher of milk. “Sadie! Are you all right?”

  She gasped and stepped aside, out of his path. “Yes, I’m. . .” Suddenly she couldn’t stand it a minute longer. “Harry, I’m so sorry! I meant to wait until the others were gone to try to have a word with you, but I can’t. The neighbors are all asking about Father, and I don’t know what to tell them. I can’t go on with this lie. I can’t! Not another minute!” She burst into tears, and in her embarrassment she turned away from him, clutching the platter to her breast.

  Harry set the pitcher down on the back step and came toward her. She felt his hands on hers, gently prying her fingers loose from the platter. He took it from her and laid it next to the pitcher then drew her toward him.

  “Let me handle this for you, Sadie,” he whispered, folding his arms around her.

  Her breath came in a little gasp. “How can you be so. . . kind? Don’t you hate me?”

  He sighed and laid his cheek against the top of her head. “No. I never hated you. Can you forgive me for leaving the way I did?”

  “Oh, Harry!” She clung to him for a moment then stepped back, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so forward.”

  He smiled. “Would you mind if I told the folks about your father? I think it would make things a lot easier for you.”

  “Would you?”

  “Yes. And as to the rest of it, well, perhaps we can talk again later.”

  She made herself meet his steady gaze. His brown eyes were clear and bright, and their tender expression made her heart leap. She nodded. “I’d like that.”

  He picked up the milk pitcher and stepped outside the lean-to. Sadie abandoned the platter and went to stand near Tallie behind the table.

  “Folks!” Harry shouted, raising his hand, and the chattering stopped. “A few of you know me,” he said, “but for those who don’t, I’m Harry Cooper, a friend of the McEwan family.”

  Sadie’s breath went out of her in a puff. He wasn’t angry. He was representing himself to her neighbors as a friend. Thank You, Lord! she breathed. Even if he left now and never came back, she was content. But she realized she hoped fiercely that he wouldn’t go. Not now, not until things were settled between them. We can talk again later, he’d said. Sadie seized the joy that prospect brought her.

  “Several of you have inquired about Oliver McEwan today,” Harry said, and all the men gathered closer, eager to listen.

  Sadie glanced at Tallie. Pax came and stood between them, and Tallie placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Mr. Harry’s goin’ to straighten things out,” Tallie whispered, and Sadie nodded.

  “It grieves me to have to give you the news,” Harry said, “but in order to spare Miss McEwan the pain of doing so, let me tell you that Oliver McEwan has passed away.” A murmur ran through the crowd, and Harry went on. “There’s been a lot of confusion here, with the house being robbed and the fire, but I’m certain Oliver would be glad to know how many of his friends are here to help his family in this time of need. Miss McEwan hasn’t had a chance to make arrangements yet, but I’m sure the word will get
around to all of you soon, and perhaps a small memorial service will be held.”

  He glanced around and found her, a question in his dark eyes. Sadie nodded and pressed her lips together.

  As the men stood staring at Harry, hoofbeats sounded along the road, growing louder, and a lone horse trotted up the driveway.

  They all stared in silence at the empty saddle as Clipper entered the yard and stopped, shaking his head and eyeing the smoking rubble of the barn in confusion.

  “Isn’t that your father’s stallion?” Mr. Kauffman called to Sadie.

  “Yes, it is. One of the robbers rode off on him before you got here.”

  “That must be the man who raced past us when we came to the lane,” Pastor Richards said. “We called out to him, but he didn’t stop.”

  Sadie looked to Harry. He’d left his spot and was walking toward Clipper.

  “That hoss is an ornery one,” Zeke said. “Let me get him, Mr. Harry.” He walked toward the stallion, passing Harry, and held out half a biscuit. “Here now, fella. You’re home now.”

  Clipper stretched his neck out and delicately took the biscuit with his lips. Zeke snatched the trailing reins, and the horse immediately threw his head back and tried to pull away.

  “Here now.” Zeke spoke softly to him until Clipper let him stroke his neck. He led the horse to the hitching rail near the house and unsaddled him. Harry followed and ran his hand down Clipper’s sweaty shoulder.

  “I don’t know as we want to turn him into the pasture, Mr. Harry,” Zeke said. “He’s been known to jump a fence or two. The small paddock will hold him, but I’ve got Star in there. Wouldn’t want two stallions in such a small pen.”

  Harry nodded. “I guess we’ll have to tie him up someplace until we sort things out, Zeke.” He turned and looked toward the barn. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Zeke smiled. “Yes, suh!”

  The men had gone back to eating and talking to each other. Harry shot a sidelong glance at Sadie, and her pulse accelerated. He smiled, and she tried to smile back, wanting him to know how much she appreciated all he had done. But her lips trembled. Her love for him surged up, taking her breath away.

  She didn’t deserve Harry Cooper! He was too fine for her. She’d deceived him all that time, and then she’d brought this new calamity on them all by letting Dan Mitchell in the house. And she had burned the barn down to save a little money and a few trinkets! Something in the far reaches of her mind told her that wasn’t accurate. She’d been trying to save Zeke, too, when she’d thrown that horseshoe and caused the fire, but she couldn’t quite piece it together and make sense of it. She was so tired!

  She hurried in through the front door and up the stairs.

  ❧

  “You’re needed down below, Miss Sadie.”

  Sadie wiped her eyes, rolled to the edge of the bed, and sat up. “I’m sorry, Tallie. I shouldn’t have left you alone with all that work.”

  Tallie shrugged. “I was hopin’ you’d rest, but I see you been feelin’ sorry for yourself instead.”

  “I’ll come now and help you clean up.”

  “We got all day to clean up. Most of them men are gone. They took that thief Mitchell with them. But they’s two gen’lemen waitin’ in the parlor to see you.”

  Sadie swallowed. Her throat still hurt, and the smell of smoke was still in her nostrils. “Two?”

  “Uh-huh. Pastor Richards and Mr. Harry.”

  Sadie stood up. Her legs didn’t feel strong enough to hold her, and she grabbed the corner post of the bed.

  “Please tell them I’ll be there shortly.”

  Tallie’s expression softened. “Let me help you freshen up a little, child.”

  Sadie looked in the mirror. Although Tallie had helped her scrub away the soot earlier, her face was still dirty with smudges where her tears had smeared. Her eyes were red from the smoke and weeping, and the skin beneath them was puffy.

  She washed her face, patting the cool, wet cloth against her swollen eyelids. Then Tallie insisted she sit down and let her comb out her matted hair.

  “Mr. Kauffman and Mr. Thurber both say they’ll come over tomorrow to help Zeke and Mr. Harry, and their wives will send some food.”

  “That’s kind of them,” Sadie said.

  At last Tallie stood back and said, “There. You still smell like smoke, but I expect they’ll understand.”

  ❧

  Harry stood at the side parlor window, carefully removing the shards of glass from the frame with his handkerchief. At least Tallie hadn’t splintered the sash. Harry had spotted the broken window when Tallie asked him and Pastor Richards to wait in there for Sadie, apologizing for the state of the room. Harry thought there might be an extra pane left in the lean-to. He’d check on it later. Meanwhile Pastor Richards gathered scattered papers and accessories from the floor, returning them to the oak rolltop desk.

  Sadie came to the doorway, and Harry turned toward her. She had been weeping, and he didn’t blame her. He wished he could take her into his arms again, but with Pastor Richards present, he couldn’t do that. He smiled at her.

  “Sadie, I’m so sorry you had to go through all this.”

  The pastor stepped forward and took Sadie’s hand in his. “Yes, my dear. Mr. Cooper has explained some things to me, and I must tell you how my heart aches for you. You’ve been a very brave girl.”

  “No,” she said, blinking back her tears. “I wasn’t brave at all, Pastor. I was a coward, and so I did the cowardly thing. I let Harry think. . .” She pulled in a deep breath then looked directly at Harry. “I let him think Papa was alive, and that was a lie.”

  “Sit down, Sadie, dear,” said the pastor. “From what I hear, most of this deception was Zeke’s doing, not yours.”

  She shook her head. “It may have started with Zeke, but I let it go on. I could have stopped it at the very beginning, but I didn’t. And after a while I joined in it. Harry begged me to tell him what was wrong, but I wouldn’t.” She looked down at her hands and sighed. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

  “I told you, Sadie—that’s forgiven.”

  Sadie pulled her handkerchief out of her sleeve and wiped her eyes.

  Pastor Richards cleared his throat. “Perhaps when you feel better, you could show me your father’s grave.”

  “Yes, of course.” She sniffed. “We could go out there now, if you wish.”

  Harry hung back, letting Richards walk with Sadie, and followed them into the front hall.

  “I think Mr. Cooper’s suggestion is a good one,” the pastor said. “If you’d like, we can have a brief graveside service. Perhaps on Wednesday. There would be no need to tell folks how long your father’s been gone.”

  Sadie sobbed and put her handkerchief to her lips for a moment then whispered, “Thank you, sir. I’d like that.”

  They stepped outside and were heading for the path that led to the burial plot when once more a horse came up the drive. Zeke came from the lean-to, looking toward the approaching horse.

  Harry recognized the rider as Mr. Ferguson.

  “We found that fellow!” the innkeeper shouted.

  Sadie, Harry, Zeke, and Mr. Richards walked toward him, and Ferguson dismounted.

  “You found the second robber?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, a great big man with a scar.” He touched his left cheek.

  Sadie said, “That’s Moe, the one who rode off on Clipper. I’m sure of it.”

  “What happened?” Harry asked.

  “He was lying in the road beside the bridge between here and town. I beg your pardon for being indelicate, Miss McEwan, but. . .well, his neck’s broken. Looks like the horse threw him.”

  “Don’t surprise me none,” Zeke said. “That hoss would buck if the least little thing hit him back of the saddle.”

  “They’re taking him into town in Glassbrenner’s wagon,” Mr. Ferguson said. “Oh, and these were in his pockets, Miss McEwan. We thought perhaps. . .”

&nbs
p; He held out a wad of folded bills and a gold pocket watch. Sadie stared down at them. “The watch is my father’s. There was some money taken, too.”

  Ferguson pressed the items into her hand. “I’ll be going now. See you later, Mr. Cooper. Breakfast for your dinner tonight?”

  Harry said, “Oh, well, I may be dining here this evening.” He looked at Sadie with a question in his eyes.

  “Please do,” she said.

  “You’d best stay right here, Mr. Harry,” said Zeke. “Iffen you want, I can go get your things from in town.”

  Ferguson laughed as he mounted his horse. “You want your stuff, Mr. Cooper? Because I can still rent your room out. Big wedding tomorrow, right, Parson?”

  Pastor Richards nodded. “Yes, Sarah Murray and John Hofstead.”

  Harry hesitated. “Well. . .” He glanced at Sadie again, and to his consternation, felt his face flushing.

  “Please stay, Harry,” she said, not looking at him, in a voice so low only he could hear her.

  It was all he needed. “All right then, Zeke. I’d appreciate it if you’d do that for me.”

  Zeke’s grin made everything seem right again. “Yes, suh, Mr. Harry! I’d be pleasured to do that thing! I’ll get me a horse to ride and be back in an hour with your things from the inn.” He turned and trotted toward the pasture gate.

  Harry walked with Sadie and Pastor Richards as far as the fence surrounding the burial ground. He left them there together and walked on to the river, taking his time, and went along the bank to the place where the McEwans had a boat landing. He circled back by another path to the barnyard and stood looking at the remains of the barn. Here and there a wisp of smoke escaped the charred ruins. Harry tried to figure when they could begin the cleanup and how long it would take to get the materials and raise the new barn. If all the neighbors pitched in, they ought to be able to do it before winter set in.

  The circuit rider and Sadie came back from the graveyard, and Sadie slipped into the big house through the lean-to. Mr. Richards joined Harry in the barnyard.

  “Is she all right?” Harry asked.

  “She’s been through a great deal,” the parson replied. “She’s a strong woman, though. With loved ones to support her, I’m sure she’ll get through this.”