Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) (39 page)

Later, Sarah tried to ignore the stone of guilt sitting in her
stomach as she steered the horses toward home.

She'd taken marriage vows to love, honor, and obey her husband, and yet this very day, she'd made an important financial
decision without his knowledge. Furthermore, she'd spoken to
Stephen Alden on the telephone and made arrangements for
his arrival on the Friday afternoon stagecoach, something of which she was certain Rocky would disapprove.

But what of her strong conviction that God Himself had
directed her decision? Surely, that counted for something, she
reasoned. The town needed money for a schoolhouse, and she
had the means for making it happen. How could her husband
possibly dispute that? However, she'd not included him in
the process, and therein lay the problem. Moreover, when he
finally discovered the extent of her assets, would it not drive
an even greater wedge between them, particularly since he'd
made it clear on more than one occasion that he had no need
of her money?

"Are you happy, Sarah?" Stephen had asked toward the
tail end of their hurried conversation.

"More than you can imagine," she'd replied, but heavy
static had kept her from elaborating.

"I'll plan to arrive on Friday," he'd shouted over the lines.
"Shall I hire a driver to bring me out to your farm?"

"No!" she'd replied in haste, unsure whether she would
have completely ironed out matters with Rocky before Friday.
"I'll check with the general store to determine the stage's
arrival time, and I'll plan to meet you in town. From there
we'll walk to the bank."

"Will your husband be accompanying you?"

"Rocky will..."

"We're losing our connection, Sarah," he'd interrupted.
"These wretched telephones lines. I'll see you in a few days
then."

"Stephen-." But the phone went dead. Frustrated with
the temperamental equipment, she'd slammed the thing back
into its cradle.

And when she turned to leave, she discovered Mrs. Winthrop standing in the doorway, mouth agape, beady eyes
assessing her from head to toe.

Sarah had opened her mouth to explain, but closed it
again. She couldn't very well tell her she'd been speaking to
her lawyer. What questions might that stir up? In the end, she'd
pulled back her shoulders, given the woman a pert smile, and
sauntered past, determined not to cave in to her deliberate
attempt to intimidate.

Sarah heaved a weary sigh just as she rounded the final
turn in the two-track road leading home. Home. Yes, it felt
more like home to her than anyplace she'd ever lived. The little
white cabin, now sporting a new addition and sitting proudly
on a grassy knoll, emitted a straight stream of gray smoke out
its little brick chimney. Suddenly, she felt as though she hadn't
truly lived before.

"Dear Father," she prayed, whispering into the cooling
breezes, "give me wisdom in the days ahead, the ability to
discern Your leading, and strength and courage to listen and
obey. And, Lord, help my husband to accept whatever it is You
may be asking me to do. Somehow, may it wind up being a
joint decision."

arah waited for just the right opportunity to talk to
Rocky about her finances and to tell him that Stephen was arriving on Friday to deliver her funds, but as the
days came and went, so did her prospects for speaking to him
on the sensitive topic. Perhaps it was the pervading peace and
happiness that seemed to be on everyone's countenances, including Rocky's, that kept her from it. Why bring an end to
family harmony? Or maybe it was her simple lack of nerve.
Regardless, every time she came close to asking to speak to
him privately, something else took precedence.

On Monday evening, there'd been a thunder and lightning storm that required their attention. Rachel had grown
frightened in her new room and asked to move back in with
Seth. Without a minute's worth of arguing, Rocky had obliged
the child by pushing her bed back into her brother's room, no
easy task by the time he'd maneuvered it through the narrow
doors. "This is just temporary, mind you," Rocky had issued.
While he'd tried to exert his authority in the matter, his eyes
glinted good-naturedly. "Tomorrow morning we put the bed
back." Rachel gave a limp nod as Sarah put clean sheets on
the straw mattress. "I didn't build that addition so we could
move you in and out every time we have a storm." Leaping
onto the freshly made-up bed, both children giggled with glee
to be reunited, making Sarah wonder about the wisdom of
giving in to her. Still, Rocky's gentle handling of the matter
had impressed her.

Rocky had spent all day Tuesday working outdoors, Seth
following on his tail, while Sarah and Rachel had busied themselves with washing clothes, baking bread, scrubbing floors,
and polishing the new silver. She'd only seen Rocky briefly
during the day-when he had come in for lunch and water
breaks. Each time, he'd commented on the delectable kitchen
aromas and rewarded her with a warm smile, the kind that left
her weak-kneed and wanting. But at close of day, everyone had
appeared so tired that after bedtime stories and prayers, they
had all dropped into bed at dusk, Rachel once again settling
back into her new room.

On Wednesday, Rocky had taken the wagon into town for
horse tack and items needed to repair a leak in the roof of one
of the supply sheds, and he'd spent the remainder of the day on
that task. By the time he'd come in for supper, he looked tired
and a bit glum-faced, making Sarah worry that he'd heard
something in town he wasn't up for discussing. Had rumors
started flying about her mysterious telephone conversation?
But when his spirits had lifted toward evening, she had figured her imagination had flown away with her. Still, it hadn't
seemed appropriate to bring up the matter of her finances
then, not when his mood had gone from glum to cheery.

Thursday was a duplicate of the days before, although
this day, as Sarah toiled, she allowed the children more free
time. My, how they've changed from those early days, she thought,
particularly when she recalled having first met them on the
stagecoach back in late December. Downcast and glum, they'd
clung to one another like two frightened bunnies. And it hadn't
helped any when, upon their arrival, they'd met their daunting uncle, big and sour-looking, although handsome (Sarah had noticed) even through that tough and callous exterior.

Because Rocky was spending the day in the fields, plowing
and readying the soil for planting, he'd insisted Seth stay back.
It would be a long, hard day, he'd explained after breakfast.
"Some other time, sport," he'd said, smoothing out Seth's flyaway hair and glancing at Sarah for encouragement.

"Could you help me bake a cake this morning?" she'd hastened to ask.

"That's girl's work," he'd answered.

"Well then, do you suppose you could sweep off the porch
for me, then help us eat the cake?"

To this, his eyes had brightened. "Will it be chocolate?"

"Is there any other kind?" she'd asked, knowing Seth had
a weakness for all things chocolate.

"Yippee! I love chocolate cake," he'd announced in a singsong voice, grabbing hold of Rachel's hand and twirling her
around the house in a silly excuse for a dance. Sarah had
laughed at their antics, and when she'd glanced at Rocky, she
found him watching her. He'd pulled his mouth into a crooked
grin.

"You best save some of that cake for your husband, Sarah.
I'll need my strength at close of day."

"I'm sure you will," she'd answered, keeping her smile.

"I can think of a few other things that might rejuvenate
me besides the cake," he had said with a mischievous twinkle
while moving his face in close to hers and making Sarah's head
swim with delight. Was he implying another kiss perhaps, or
something more intimate? He'd seemed to be peering at her
intently, making her heart turn over in response. "But the
cake should suffice-for now." His normally mellow voice had
taken on a husky edge.

He'd pulled back and gently tapped the tip of her nose
with his index finger. "Perhaps tomorrow we can plan some
time together-with the children, of course. What would you
think of that? A person can't spend every waking minute
working."

Normally she would have agreed, would have jumped at
the chance to go on a family outing. A picnic at the creek perhaps. She could take her red and white checked tablecloth and
pack all her best sandwiches along with their favorite canned
fruits, a freshly baked pie, and jars of milk.

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?"