Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) (22 page)

It was impossible not to laugh full-throttle at that point,
even though Sarah did cover her mouth in a stifling attempt.
"You paint a vivid picture," she said. In the background, she
heard Mary chuckle to herself.

"You want more?" he asked, his own laugh low and
throaty.

"Yes!" she cried.

He threw a large stocking-clad foot over his knee and held
his ankle with one hand. Sarah noted a hole in the middle of
his sock and made a mental note to find the darning tools and
make some repairs. Of course, she would have to wait for her
aching head to allow for the extra eyestrain.

"Armed with pitchfork, I tackled all the stalls. I muck them
out pretty much every day so the animals stay warm and don't
get sick. Once done with that, I throw in fresh straw. I usually
only do this during the coldest period of winter. Otherwise,
they stay outside, and the mucking isn't a daily chore."

"I'm sure they appreciate all you do," she said, meaning it
sincerely.

His head tossed back in a fit of laughter. Even Mary looked
up as if quite unaccustomed to the rich sound. She winked at
Sarah and went back to her puttering.

"Well now, if they do they've never let on," he said. "If you
ask me, they're all pretty demanding of my time and attention.
That's why I came inside. I needed to find a bit of warmth, and
to take a load off."

Sarah smiled. "It's good that you did."

All of a sudden, he dropped both feet to the floor, leaned
forward, and lowered his voice. "I'd have to agree."

She met his eyes without flinching. "Your mother has a
fresh pie cooling in the lean-to. If you are extra nice she might
offer you a piece."

He grinned and turned his head. "That true, Ma?"

"Is what true?" she asked.

"Don't give me that innocent act," he teased. "You heard
every word. You got pie coolin' out back?"

"Go see for yourself," she ordered.

He stood up and pushed his hands deep into his pockets. From where Sarah sat, he looked massive, but the sudden
warmth she glimpsed in his expression told her he was harmless. "You want pie?" he asked in almost a whisper.

Her stomach took an unusual turn. "A small piece would
be nice," she replied.

One eyebrow arched in mischievous fashion as his lips
gave way to a smile as intimate as a kiss. He bent over her
until his face came within inches of her own. "I hope you're
not growing too accustomed to all this service, Mrs. Callahan."
His voice seemed to caress her ears, setting her pulse to racing.
"A wife could get downright spoiled."

"What? No," she said, sitting back from him, suddenly
unsure.

He chuckled privately. "You worry too much" was all he
said before he stood back up and sauntered past his mother to
the lean-to at the back of the kitchen. About that time, Mary
set to humming some unrecognizable tune.

Midway through their pie and coffee, the sounds of
horses' hooves filtered through the cracks of the windows
and walls.

"Someone's coming!" Seth announced with a shout, suddenly abandoning his pie in favor of jumping from the table
and racing to the window.

"Seth, don't yell," scolded Rocky, placing his napkin on the
table and pushing his own chair back for a look.

When Rachel slid her chair back in noisy fashion, Rocky
glared at her. "Sit," he ordered. "No point in everyone jumping up at once."

The girl slumped back in disappointment while Sarah winced at his harsh tone. What had happened to her husband's
former easygoing manner?

"Who is it?" Mary asked.

Rocky hovered over Seth's small frame in the window.
"Looks to be Benjamin and Liza Broughton and their two
youngins.

Sarah's heart leaped with joy. They had visitors!

The men had excused themselves to the barn while the
women worked companionably in the kitchen. Liza talked a
mile a minute about the events at the Broughton farm and
the awful ice storm, asking Sarah for details about her bad fall
while she trimmed beans.

Mary threw together a salad while Sarah sat at the table
peeling potatoes. She wasn't about to admit that her head ached.
She was just thrilled to have found a useful job, even if it was
simple and Mary had insisted she perform it while sitting.

Seth and Rachel were busy entertaining their newfound
friends, eight-year-old Lill Broughton and baby Molly, who was
coming up on her second birthday. Sarah could hear Rachel
asking about school and Lill explaining how the building had
burned when her stepmother was the teacher. "Now I just
get my teaching lessons at home," she said, "even though I'd
rather wait till school starts up in the fall. Liza keeps sayin' she
doesn't want me to get behind, but how can I get behind if no
one else is goin' to school neither?"

"Either!" Liza corrected from across the room. Sarah giggled when she realized that Liza had also been eavesdropping
on the youngsters' chatter.

"It must have been so scary for you," Liza said, turning her
attention back to Sarah, "falling in the dark like that, with no
one about."

"I hardly remember it," Sarah admitted. "And Rocky came
along before I knew it. I had passed out, so I don't know exactly
how long I lay there before he found me."

Liza shook her head. "Oh dear. Well, we can all be grateful
to God for watching over you."

"Amen to that," Mary said.

"He does look out for us," Sarah said, finishing off the last
potato and arranging it in the kettle.

Mary walked over and took the pan from her before she
had the chance to announce she had finished. Sarah smiled to
herself at the way the woman doted. It made her wonder if she
hadn't come to Little Hickman as much for her mother-in-law
as for Rocky and the children. The older woman seemed to
have latched onto her as if she were her own daughter.

"Well, I'm just glad that Frank drove over to tell us about
the mishap, or we might not have heard about it for some time.
Of course, we'd have found out eventually. I've been pestering
Ben to bring me out for a visit, but he wouldn't allow it. He
kept saying the newlyweds needed their space," Liza said, her
eyes twinkling.

Sarah shifted nervously, embarrassed by the insinuation
and trying to think of a way to change the subject. "Well, I'm
glad you chose today to come. Things have gotten dull around
here, right, Mary?"

"It was high time we received callers," Mary answered,
bringing down the dishes from the cupboard and walking to
the table.

"Oh, what beautiful dishes," Liza exclaimed. "Were they
your mother's?"

Sarah regarded the dishes she'd received from Stephen,
realizing she'd promptly forgotten them in the aftermath of
her fall. She wondered now what Rocky would say to eating
from them since he'd made such a scene about them earlier.

"Actually, they are a wedding gift from a dear friend.
The dishes came from his mother."

Liza looked faintly confused but didn't question; she
merely smiled, then picked up one of the plates for her own
inspection. "They're lovely. What a pretty pattern."

"They come from the Netherlands," Sarah told her. "I
admired them so much as a child that my friend's mother
insisted they be given to me as a gift."

"How wonderful," Liza said.

"They sure are nice," Mary added, staring at one of the
plates as if to study her own reflection.

"Uncle Rocky don't like 'em," said Rachel. She came up
beside her grandmother to make the announcement, followed
by Seth, Lill, and baby Molly. "He says ar cabin wasn't made
for china and silver."

Both of the women gawked at the little girl then stared at
Sarah, awaiting some sort of reply.

"Well, it's not that he doesn't like them," Sarah stated.

"Uncle Rocky says he won't eat off 'em," chimed Seth.

"Whyever not?" asked Mary.

"Well, I suppose he will if he's good and hungry," Sarah
said, feeling a smile creep across her face. She still thought
it odd that her husband had reacted so irrationally over the
gift.

As if on cue, the door opened, and Rocky and Ben walked
in. Although Ben wore a friendly smile, Rocky's expression
dulled at the first sight of the beautiful blue dishes.

The dinner was delicious and the conversation stimulating.
So Rocky wondered why his appetite had dwindled to almost
nothing when he'd been forced to spoon his food atop the blue
windmill-patterned dishes.

Not wanting to risk making a scene, he'd merely given
Sarah a disapproving look, which she'd promptly cast off. She
knew how he felt about the wedding gift, he mused. Couldn't
she have insisted they use the everyday dishes and saved these
others for some special occasion? Of course, if this didn't qualify as a special occasion-entertaining unexpected dinner
guests-he didn't know what did.

To make matters worse, the silver flatware, a personal gift
from Alden, accompanied the dishes. Further, to give the table
a particular flair, Sarah had produced a linen tablecloth and
matching napkins, something she'd had tucked away in her
trunk, she'd said. It made him wonder what other ceremonial
finery she had stowed away in that massive crate of hers.

Ben had said Rocky was a lucky guy-no, blessed was what
he'd actually used to describe the new marriage. They'd been
standing in the barn looking at some of Rocky's farm supplies. "God had His hand in this one, Rock. Who would have
thought that it would turn out so well? I felt so guilty inviting
Sarah to Kentucky to be my bride, and then announcing to
her after she'd traveled all that way that I meant to marry Liza
instead."

Rocky had nodded his head, thinking that it was all quite
a coincidence. Yet, to call it a coincidence wouldn't have set
well with Ben, so Rocky hadn't mentioned it. Truth be told,
he wasn't even sure himself anymore about such things. Was it
coincidence or God's providence?

"Hm, I haven't been this full since," Ben sat back and
rubbed his belly, "since..."

"Last night?" his wife asked. "After you finished off the last
of the roast beef and potatoes?" Liza picked up her water glass
with exacting finesse and sipped, eyeing him over the rim.

Everyone laughed while Ben conceded her point with a
humble nod and a sheepish grin, still rubbing his stomach with
a look of satisfaction. "Okay, I'll admit I enjoy mealtime. Can
I help it if my wife spoils me by trying out all her best recipes
on me? And then to come here and be treated with a meal of
equal caliber is a treat indeed."

"Oh Poo," Mary cut in. "Wasn't anythin' more than a regular meal."

Ben picked up a glistening knife. "Served with the finest
dishes and silver, I might add. I saw my reflection in this before
I slathered it with butter. Never knew you to eat off such finery,
Callahan," Ben teased. "Were these a wedding gift?"

The remark and question that followed were innocent
enough, but they ruffled Rocky's feathers, reminding him of
how un-befitting and out of place the dishes and silver were
in his humble farmhouse. He would never have the resources
to satisfy Sarah's earthly desires. A woman like her deserved
far more than he was capable of providing. Had he been a
smarter man, he never would have interfered with Alden's
proposal.

"Yeah, well, I tried to tell Sarah how foolish it was to
put the stuff on display," he said, "much less use it. I mean,
look around, folks. Does this cabin look suited for silver and
china? I have a door in need of new hinges, a cracked front
window, peeling plaster, a floor with mismatched boards,
and a house too small for four bodies. But we have china
and silver."

Ben looked at Rocky as if he'd suddenly grown an extra
head. It only made him more determined to continue. "Yeah,
it was a gift from her wealthy beau, no less."

"He wasn't my-beau," Sarah corrected, laying her napkin
alongside her plate, pursing her lips together in a tight line.

"He wanted to marry her," Rocky explained to the openmouthed onlookers, as if it were his duty to divulge the fact.
"But I saved her from the rich clod. Imagine that. I thought I
was doing her a favor." To this he chuckled, noting he laughed
alone, save the baby, who giggled when she pounded a rattle
on the hardwood floor.