Authors: Janet Cooper
The pounding of heavy leather shoes on wood carried into the kitchen
. Wolf stood at arm's length. "Another cup of tea?" he asked.
She looked at him, confusion and disappointment evident in her eyes
. Then she heard the front door open and increased the distance between them. "No, no thank thee," she managed to say.
Straightening her cap, she sought to order her thoughts
. If her father had not returned, how far would they have gone? Would it have mattered? Sarah regretted the interruption. Glancing at Wolf, she wondered if he did also. His eyes revealed nothing. As she struggled with her composure, she asked in a voice totally unlike her own, "May I pour one for thee? Would thee, thou prefer something else?" Sarah quickly corrected herself. She did not want Benjamin to hear her use the informal 'thee' with Wolf.
"Water, thank you
." Wolf sat on the nearest Windsor chair.
As Benjamin entered the kitchen,
Sarah asked, "Was there much damage?"
"A few rails of the fence are broken, but Mr
. Keenan's arrival saved our grain and the livestock. We are in your debt." Benjamin bobbed his head.
"No
." Wolf stood. "What I did only partially pays for the food you delivered to Long Meadow."
Benjamin shook his head and started to speak
.
"Father,"
Sarah broke in, sensing the two men might continue this unresolvable discussion, "would thee like a mug of cider or a cup of tea?"
"Hot cider
." He stopped before adding, "And a thick slice of bread with butter, please."
"Oh!"
Sarah shouted. Suddenly, her father's request reminded her of a forgotten task. She rushed to her beehive oven, pulled off the door and stared.
"What is it?" Benjamin asked
.
Wolf moved closer to her
.
She dragged out a dried-up pumpkin pie
. "Damn that soldier!"
The two men glanc
ed at each another in confusion then at Sarah.
"He spoiled most of my morning's work
." Sarah slammed the pie on the table. The blackened edge of the crust broke off and fell on the oak top. She looked at Benjamin and Wolf, who appeared not to understand her anger. "Thou did not spend all morning baking." She drew the other five pies from the oven, protecting her hands with only the thin material of her apron. Two of the apple pies, while browner than she liked, could be salvaged. All three pumpkins had dried out and shrunk, leaving a wide margin between the crust and the filling.
"They smell good," Benjamin offered, perhaps hoping to lessen the disaster staring at her from the table
.
She glared at him
. His words failed to appease.
Wolf glanced from the pies to
Sarah. "They are not too bad."
"No?"
Her skepticism showed as she raised her eyebrow.
"Mr
. Keenan is right," Benjamin answered. A bewildered look washed over his face. "Thee sounds almost as upset about the burnt pies as thee is about the fighting in our yard."
"I am
." An instant later, she remembered Daniel still lying unconscious upstairs and felt very guilty for creating a scene about overdone pies. "Of course not, but …" she allowed the words to trail off, realizing how illogical her statement sounded. From their expressions, she swiftly perceived that they failed to fathom her emotions. Unable to explain further, she added, "Another woman would understand what I said." Sighing, she went on, "At least the pigs will eat well. "
The men smiled
.
"I will try a slice of pie," said Wolf
.
"Me, too," her father echoed
.
"Pumpkin?" she offered, her lips curving in a curious smile
.
"Apple," they said in unison
.
She laughed, but the sound held little merriment
.
Having served the men,
Sarah began scraping the burnt pieces into a bucket. As she watched Wolf, she realized by returning his kiss and flirting with him, she had complicated her life further. Although the intimacy was limited, the emotion had created a strong hold on her being; one that would be difficult to sever. When she departed the 18th Century, a part of her would remain with Wolf. He attracted her as no other man ever had. She probably should not have returned his kiss, but she had enjoyed his touch. To deny that was impossible.
"After what happened today, you cannot stay here," Wolf informed them, cutting into his piece of pie
.
Her whole body clenched in fear
. She would never leave the inn. This building was the gateway to her own time.
"I must
." Benjamin used his fork to trim off the darkened crust. "This is my home."
Hearing his words, the knots in her chest loosened, and
Sarah could breathe again.
"I'm not suggesting you abandon the inn forever
. You must find a safer place until the raiding stops and peace returns to the area." Wolf took a long swallow of water.
"I will not run away," her father said
.
For the next few minutes, only the clatter of forks scrapping against pewter plates sounded in the room
.
"Hire a few men to protect you," Wolf said
.
"That is not our way
." Benjamin glanced at Sarah. "Mayhap, daughter, thee should visit Philadelphia. Since the British occupy the city, thou will be safe with thy aunt."
The only people who meant anything to
Sarah in this century were in this inn "No," she stated emphatically, "I will not leave either."
"Be reasonable," Wolf said
.
His obvious concern for her safety pleased her, but if his plans included her leaving the inn, she would never accept them
.
Wolf looked at Benjamin
. "Forgive me for my plain speaking." Without waiting for a reply, he turned back to Sarah. His ebony eyes bore into hers. His rage showed. "Following Quaker rules is fine during times of peace, but not when marauders roam unchallenged." Wolf shoved his almost empty plate toward the center of the table, making the fork rattle against the metal plate.
Sarah
feared he might mention her possible rape and sighed inwardly with relief when he did not. If Benjamin suspected what had nearly happened, Sarah would be packed off to Philadelphia. She wondered how Quakers handled violated women. Staying here was her only choice, yet she wished to save her 18th Century father from worrying.
"Daughter, although I disagree with what Mr
. Keenan has said about the Society, as thy father thee is my concern. Thou will be secure with thy aunt."
The idea of closing her doorway to the future sent goose bumps racing down her spine
. Sarah would never agree. "No, I will remain here."
At my portal.
she added silently. A small voice whispered in her head, where a certain good-looking Lenape occasionally stops by to visit.
Pushing back his chair, Wolf stood
. "The trail grows cold while we sit and argue uselessly."
Benjamin rose
. He appeared older, tired, and exhausted. "Though I am no longer accepted at Meeting, my principles have not and never will change, I cannot approve of thy desire for vengeance. As a father, I understand.
His words surprised and comforted
Sarah.
How difficult for a Quaker or for one following their principles during times of war,
she thought.
"Thank you," Wolf replied
.
Walking Wolf to the door, her father said, "Again, I thank thee and will pray for thee
." They grasped arms.
Wolf nodded his head in acceptance
.
Sarah
picked up the bucket that held the scraps of her pies. She wanted an excuse to be alone with Wolf, for she had no idea when or if they might meet again. She could not let him leave without giving him one more kiss. "I will walk thee to thy horse before I feed the pigs."
"And I will check on Daniel," Benjamin said, turning and heading toward the stairs
.
Sarah
and Wolf strolled down the steps and around to the back of the tavern. "I thank thee for not mentioning my fear to my father."
"You mean the plans the corporal had for you?"
She blushed. "Perhaps he only meant to kiss me," Sarah said, not believing her own words.
He raised one eyebrow revealing his disbelief
. "I do not understand you. A Lenape woman would obey her father."
She kicked at a pile of leaves, scattering them in all directions
. "I must stay here."
"Why?"
"Daniel and my father need me."
"Do you really believe that?"
He examined her closely.
His forthright inspection sent shivers speeding along her arms
. Lowering her eyes for fear he would see that was not her sole reason, she gazed at the slop bucket. "Yes."
He lifted her chin and surveyed her, disregarding her attempts to hide
. Blood rushed to her face. The heat from his fingertips burned her skin. "There is more that you are not telling."
Wolf dropped his hand, but she kept her attention focused on him
. For an instant, she considered revealing the truth, but suppressed her thought as foolish.
As he prepared to mount his horse, she sat down the wooden pail and reached for him
. She would not allow him to leave without giving her one last embrace. "May I have a kiss before thee departs?"
Without waiting for him to respond, she took a step nearer
. Pressing her body against his, she placed her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe.
Slowly, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth
. Warmth flowed through her as his kiss drew the breath from her. His fingers grazed the side of her breast. She had no way of knowing if his touch had been intentional or not, but she could not keep the pleasurable moan from escaping her throat. Everything about this man's physical body drew her to him. She molded herself to him, wanting to burn the memory of his touch into her very existence.
Finally freeing her mouth, Wolf caressed the side of her forehead with his lips
. "You are unlike any white woman I have ever known."
His words galvanized her
. Had her forwardness given away her disguise? Had her facade slipped? Would she betray herself to Benjamin? Daniel? "I’ve told thee that," she said, trying to make light of his comment. Lightly, she brushed his ear lobe with her index finger. For temptation continue to stir within her at his nearness. "And thee is unlike any man." Her fingertips slid down his jaw to his firm chin. She must stop this. She dropped her arm and forced herself to regain control of her emotions. "Thank thee for stitching Daniel's head."
He captured her hand
. "Even if I had not, he would have stopped bleeding eventually." He rubbed the inside of her palm with his thumb.
Pushing cautio
n behind her, she pressed their hands against her heart.
"I must leave
."
Although his voice spoke the words,
Sarah detected regret in his tone. The dichotomy warmed her. She released him, reluctantly.
Wolf leapt onto his horse
. Before he rode off, he gazed at her. "Arm yourself. Those raiders will come back."
"I will do what I must
."
He nodded, perhaps remembering the pitchfork
.
Sarah
watched him ride away. A wave of longing washed over her as she acknowledged her fierce attraction for Wolf. Was it possible to desire a man who was from a different century? If the time warp opened again and she slipped through to her own time, what would happen to the emotions that she experienced regarding this man? Would they disappear? Would she remember them?
Th
ese thoughts triggered another; her anxiety about being stuck permanently in the 18th Century. One thing she knew, her only hope of returning to her own time rested on maintaining her ties with the inn. This bond must never be severed. To do so might break the law of time. At least that was what always had happened in the science fiction books she had read, and that was her only source of information. She could not survive and be mentally normal if she stayed inside the building forever, but she would monitor her trips outside. Since her 'journey' had occurred after dark, she would make sure she always returned home by dusk. Having resolved that problem as analytically as possible, she focused on the road Wolf had taken. The clump of trees, near the bend in the road, sheltered him from her sight.
Feeling out-of-sorts,
Sarah could not face going back to the inn just yet. If Benjamin saw her, he would prescribe work as the answer. He might be right, but she was not ready to plow into any project. Slowly, she headed toward the pigs' pen. She poured the dried pumpkin chunks into the trough. As she sauntered around the rest of the yard, she watched the chickens scratching the ground for grain and saw the goats gleaning the harvested field.