Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) (43 page)

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.

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 stood 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.