Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) (29 page)

Sarah was happy to see Emma Browning ride in just as she
was making a trip from the house to the barn.

She gave her friend a wild wave. "Hello, Emma! I'm so
glad you stopped by."

Smiling, Emma directed her draft horses to a spot alongside several other buggies and climbed down. "I can't stay,
mind you," she said. "I am expecting a new boarder late this
evening, so I must prepare for his arrival. Still, I did want
to stop in for a brief visit." She looked toward the lantern-lit
barn where folks chattered at the tops of their voices. Every so
often, someone let out a loud peal of laughter. "Sounds like
everyone's havin' a good time."

The blue-eyed woman smiled warmly, revealing a dimple
in her left cheek. Dressed in yellow gingham with matching bonnet and shawl, her blond hair fixed in a loose bun
with several strands fallen to the sides, she was a pretty thing.
Sarah couldn't imagine why she'd never married, unless it
was that she simply wasn't interested. Although Sarah didn't
like to listen in on hearsay, she'd picked up enough in conversations with Emma while she lived at the boardinghouse to know that Emma was a loner and liked it that way.

"Her father is the town drunk," Mrs. Winthrop once stated
when Sarah was buying additional sewing supplies and Emma
Browning had walked past the window.

Not wanting to appear interested in what she had to say
regarding her friend, she couldn't help but raise a curious eyebrow. That was all the encouragement Iris Winthrop needed.
"Ezra Browning is a no-good rapscallion who ought to be
ousted from the town. You'll find him sleepin' on the sidewalk
outside of that-that drinking establishment across the street
most every night."

"You mean Madame Guttersnipe's Saloon and Hotel?"

"Piffle. It's a bawdy house, if you ask me. Such a disgrace it
is. Someone ought to burn that awful building down." Apparently, Mrs. Winthrop preferred living with an arsonist in her
midst. Sarah nearly giggled at the notion.

"Why doesn't Mr. Browning take a room at his daughter's
place?"

Mrs. Winthrop dropped her jaw. "That would never do.
Besides, he has his own place a mile out of town, although it's
a shack. Emma wouldn't allow him in her place, anyway. The
two don't even speak."

Sarah thought that bit of information odd, but since she'd
already learned more than was necessary, she took up her purchases and wished Mrs. Winthrop a good afternoon.

Now Sarah greeted Emma with a gentle squeeze. "Come
inside where it's warmer," she coaxed. "The barn's not heated,
but with the big lanterns and everyone snuggled close, we're
managing just fine."

With that, Emma followed Sarah to a vacant spot on a prickly bale of hay. "It's not much of a seat," Sarah apologized.

"It'll do just fine," Emma replied.

"Well, if it isn't the lovely Miss Browning," came the buttery-smooth voice of the handsome young preacher. Emma
made ready to move to a different spot, but Jon Atkins wouldn't
hear of it, taking her by the arm and seating her before she
had a chance to protest and then quickly squeezing in beside
her. Sarah thought it comical the way Emma blanched in Jon
Atkins' presence. Did his preacher status make her uncomfortable, or was it that the young Reverend Jonathan Atkins was so
charmingly handsome?

Well, no matter-it was time she saw to the rest of the
guests. Smiling at the unlikely pair, she excused herself and
moved along.

Eldred Johansson's square dance call rang through the
rafters, wooing folks to the center of the barn. Several couples
accepted the invitation, and before long, men began handing
off their laughing partners to another at the caller's orders,
dust flying high as boot heels broke up the straw-covered
earth, fancy fiddles blaring into the frosty night.

"Swing your partner, do-si-do,

Round and round, now here we go.

Now trade her off for another girl,

Hand in hand, now give her a whirl."

Sarah looked around for a glimpse of Rocky and found
him standing with several men, most of whom she hadn't met
personally but recognized as the husbands of the women she
knew. As if he sensed she was watching, he turned and met her
eyes. When he tipped his hat at her and winked, she gasped,
wondering if anyone else had spotted the gesture.

Granting him a tiny smile in response, she hastily swiveled
her body, picked up her skirts, and set out toward a group of
women all gathered around the one remaining food table.

"Are you havin' fun?" inquired a high-pitched, breathless
voice, stopping her midstride. Spinning around, she looked
down into a red-faced Rachel.

"Why, yes I am, sweetie," she answered, patting one of her
red cheeks. "Where's Seth? I haven't seen either of you for the
past hour or more. And why are you so out of breath? Are you
feeling all right?" A number of the children had been sneezing and coughing during the day. She hoped Rachel and Seth
wouldn't catch their cold.

"I'm fine! Kids been chasin' me and Seth." Her voice rang
of pure delight. "It's fun, Aunt Sarah-I mean-Sarah." The
girl looked mortified to have made the blunder, so Sarah
quickly set out to ease her embarrassment.

"It's perfectly fine if you want to think of me as your aunt,
sweetie. In fact, I'd be tickled pink."

"Truly? Me and Seth been practicin' sayin' it in private,"
she admitted. "That's why it slipped out."

She bent so that the girl's face came within eye level. "Well,
I think it's lovely."

"Rachel, come on!" Lill Broughton stood in the doorway,
one hand on her hip, her face a picture of impatience. "We're
gettin' ready to play hide-and-seek. Hurry!"

Rachel looked at Sarah with an impish grin. "I gotta go
play"

Straightening, she gave the girl's hand a gentle squeeze.
"Run along then."

"See you later, Aunt Sarah!" she hollered loud enough that several people turned and smiled. She scampered off into the
starry night, taking no notice when she sailed right past her uncle
on her way out the door. He watched her run off, then, making
eye contact with Sarah, strolled over to where she stood.

"Aunt Sarah?" A wide grin stole across his face on his
approach. "That's something new."

Foolishly, her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his cavernous voice.

Lord above, am I falling in love?

Wanting to hide her emotions, she gazed at the children,
who had formed a huddle. In the distance, she heard the
voice of Lill Broughton doling out instructions and gesturing
with her hands. A born leader, Sarah pondered with a touch of
amusement.

"Rachel tells me she and Seth have been practicing in private."

"Ah," Rocky mused. "Trying it out, huh? Well, I guess it
would make things simpler for everyone, what with me being
their uncle."

She nodded, shooting a gaze at the circle of children again,
trying to locate Rachel and Seth in the midst, relieved when
she did. "They seem happier lately," she remarked.

The last several mornings, Rachel had been rising earlier than usual to help feed the animals with Seth. Although
Rocky had tolerated their tagging along, Sarah had heard
grumblings from him that he wasn't accomplishing his chores
in a timely fashion anymore. "They're more important than
the chores, Rocky Callahan, and they need your influence in
their lives," she'd reminded, giggling softly when he'd harrumphed.

Although she'd heard little mentioned in reference to the
children's real father, Rocky had once told her how worthless
the fellow had been, having deserted his family when Seth was
a baby, then dying shortly afterward in some sort of farming
accident.

Yes, the children required-even deserved-their uncle's
love and attention.

"It appears they've found themselves some friends," Rocky
remarked, his own gaze traveling to the group of children
clustered in the yard.

Since the musicians had announced their need for a short
break, the boisterous lot of dancers began to mill about the
barn, some seeking refreshment at the punch table, others
joining in pleasant conversation with neighbors, the light from
several lanterns reflecting off their friendly, smiling faces.

Earlier sunshine had given way to full-blown dusk and,
with it, cooler temperatures. Peering through the wide-open,
double barn doors, Rocky must have caught his first glimpse of
the full moon just as Sarah had. Without warning, he snagged
her by the coat sleeve and summoned her into the chilly night
air. "Come on," he urged, moving his hand down her arm and
latching onto her fingers.

"What are you doing?" Sarah cried, suddenly finding herself being pulled along, pulse-pounding excitement racing
through her veins. "Where are we going?"

With purposeful strides, he pulled her across the yard and
past the children. "Follow me," he called.

"Do I have a choice?" she asked, breathless, taking care to
hoist her skirts up as she ran, the brisk breezes licking at her
cheeks.

"None that I can think o£"

Surprisingly, no one followed, not even the children, when
he led her to the other side of the house and still several feet
beyond the outhouse. Wading through a clump of tall, dead
weeds, he stopped in a small clearing and turned her to face
him, their hurried, hot breaths mingling.

"There now. We can watch it in peace."

Gaping open-mouthed at him, she snagged a much-needed
breath and asked, "Watch what in peace?"

Chuckling low, he cocked a thumb upward. "That," he
said, his upturned gaze indicating the moon, round and luminous. Stars flickered, still faint in the slowly darkening sky.

She caught her breath. He wanted to share the moon with
her? "It is a spectacular sight, isn't it?" she whispered, tilting
her head for a better view.

"Quite," he answered. "The loveliest sight I've ever seen, in
fact." But when she looked back, it didn't appear he was talking about the moon at all, for his eyes had come to rest on her
face.

A wild exhilaration ran through her veins at the notion
that he found her attractive, followed by an unnerving sense of
insecurity. Was he teasing again? She would not let him goad
her as he'd succeeded in doing that morning. Glancing in the
direction of the barn, she cleared her throat and said, "Folks
will wonder where we've gone."

"Will they now?" The moon's soft glow reflected faint
touches of humor in his vibrant blue eyes. "I should think most
would think it downright ordinary for a man to haul his bride
away for a minute or two of seclusion."

Several words of warning whispered in her head. You mustn't let him plant a seed of false hope in your heart. There'll be no
more kissing, no touching. This is a marriage in name only.

"We should go back," she announced.

"You've been avoiding me all day, Mrs. Callahan. As a
matter of fact, ever since that kiss a few days back, you've been
trying to make yourself scarce."

He touched a cool finger to her chin and drew her face
around until she was forced to meet his gaze, creating in her a
jumble of shivers. "Can you blame me?" she asked.

A faint line of confusion creased his brow. "What do you
mean?"

Shaking his finger off her chin, she set her spine straight
and spouted, "You understand perfectly what I mean. You
provoked me this morning just to get a rise out me, and now
you're at it again. You're a-a bully, Rocky Callahan!"

The smile in his eyes spread to his mouth, his warm breath
creating a cloud of steam as it met with cold air. "A bully, you
say? Because I questioned why I make you nervous? Can you
blame me for my curiosity?"

Her chin went out in opposition to his playfulness.

"It was that kiss, wasn't it?" he challenged, coming close to
whisper in her ear.

Tiny shivers zoomed straight up her spine, creating a kind
of panic. She took a step back. He was doing it again, trying to
break her down, catch her in a giggle or a smile.

As if finding the chink in her armor, two rough, workworn hands went to both her cheeks and held tenderly. "Well,
all right then, I confess," he whispered. "I'm a bully, and right
now this bully would very much like to kiss you."

Ripples of excitement curled through her, creating more quivers. "But -I thought we agreed..."

He chuckled in husky tones as he lowered his face within
inches of hers, his warm, moist breath spreading itself across
her cool cheeks like feathery rose petals. "Ali, the arrangement, yes, that is a problem." He kissed the tip of her nose
before moving to her temple and kissing its tiny indentation.
"What say we discuss that silly agreement later?"

Silly agreement? But...

Reluctant to encourage him, yet powerless to stop herself,
Sarah moved into his strong embrace, her arms spreading the
wide expanse of his muscular back, his encircling her much
smaller frame.

"Sarah," he muttered, dropping tiny kisses on her earlobe,
then moving to her cheek to do the same.

After a time, he pulled back slightly to link gazes with her
and, giving her a hangdog grin, asked, "Whose idea was it
anyway-that ridiculous marriage-in-name- only pact?" Not
giving her a chance to respond, he lowered his face again and
met her lips with his.

The kiss might very well have gone on forever had it not
been for an unusual amount of shouting coming from the
other side of the house. At first, both were oblivious to the
shrieks and squeals of children and adults alike, wrapped up
as they were in the pure sweetness of it all.

But then one word drew their kiss to an abrupt end-a
word feared by every farmer for miles around.

"Fire!" came the fierce warning. "Barn's on fire!"

At first confused, Rocky dropped his hands to Sarah's waist
and turned his eyes toward the barn. A ring of smoke floated
over the house, filling the starlit sky, the stench of burning wood already clogging the air.