Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) (41 page)

More aware than ever that the clock was ticking closer
toward noon and that she'd have to set off for town very soon,
Sarah resumed walking, glad when Rocky didn't impede her
progress. She chose her words carefully. "I-came to Little
Hickman expecting to marry someone altogether differentand found myself in somewhat of a predicament. Your offer of
marriage solved my problem."

"Is that what I did for you? Solved a problem?"

She hadn't wanted to sound indifferent. "Well, yes, but it's
more than that. I believed with all my heart that God had a
purpose for my coming to Little Hickman."

"And do you still believe that?"

She raised her eyes to find him still watching her. There
was a depth to his expression that she'd never seen before. "Of
course," she answered. "Do you?"

A half-smile formed on his lips as he gazed at the children. Seth was squealing something at Rachel, who appeared
to be quite a distance ahead of him. "I'm not sure I did at the
time, but now..." He shook his head in seeming amazement,
"I look at those kids and wonder how I ever doubted that they belonged with me-with us," he amended.

Sarah nodded her agreement. Briefly, she wondered if
they were reaching a milestone in their marriage. Now would
be a good time to speak of her financial assets, she ruled, and
her reasons for making the trip into town. Yet she worried
about breaking the wonderful spell of peace and contentment
that had fallen over them. Surely there would be ample opportunity later, perhaps tonight after they'd put the children to
bed.

"I'll hitch up the horses for you," Rocky said as they drew
nearer the house.

"I appreciate that."

Once again, she felt his eyes. "You sure you don't want me
to drive you?" he asked with quiet emphasis.

Awave of panic rose in her stomach. "I'll be perfectly fine,"
she hastened. "Besides, you promised to pack lunches for our
picnic.

He leaned toward her as they walked. "You best not be
keeping any secrets from me, Sarah Callahan. Secrets don't
bide well in a marriage, you know."

A bitter taste like bile collected at the front of her mouth,
and she loosed a nervous laugh. "I'm merely picking up some
supplies and running a few errands," she said. "It shouldn't
take me long at all." And meeting my lawyer, she might have
added.

"You're not planning to run off, are you?" Something in
his tone drew her up short.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing! That was a stupid thing to say."

Sarah couldn't help but feel relief when she caught sight of Seth's approach, for it would mean an end to their conversation.

"Aunt Sarah, Uncle Rocky," Seth called out, "Rachel beat
me, but I came awful close to catchin' her! Did you see what a
fast runner I am?"

"That I did," Rocky said, dropping Sarah's hand and walking to meet the boy, but not before he lowered his voice and
added in a huskier tone for her ears only, "I suspect you and I
will be talking soon about your streak of stubbornness, Sarah
Callahan."

Rocky paced the floor of the little house, his patience running thinner by the minute. "Where is she, Uncle Rocky? I
thought we was goin' on a picnic," Seth said in a complaining
tone. It wasn't the first such grumble he'd heard from Seth
that afternoon as they'd waited for Sarah's return. "Ar sandwiches are gonna be soggy."

Rocky forced a smile and tried to appear undaunted. "She
said she'd be here, so she will. You need to find something to
do while you wait. Why don't you have Rachel read to you?"

Rachel, who sat on the couch, was perfectly content to bury
herself in her latest book, one of Rocky's many classics. She
glanced up at the mention of her name. "Come here, Seth,"
she said, patting the place beside her. "I'll read a chapter to
you.

Rocky threw the girl an appreciative look. Just then, he
heard the sound of an approaching wagon and headed for the
window. It would be at least the dozenth time he'd peered out
over the landscape, hoping for Sarah's arrival. He didn't know why he couldn't throw off this overwhelming sense of concern.
Seth hastily ran to his side. "Who is it, Uncle Rocky?"

Rocky squinted to get a better view. "Looks like your
grandma and grandpap."

"Yea!" Seth squealed and ran to the door to swing it wide.
Rachel jumped up from her seat, threw down the heavy book,
and ran out the door ahead of Seth.

Rocky found himself leaning in the doorway watching as
Frank and Mary Callahan exited their wagon, Frank going
first so he could offer his wife assistance. His father had grown
frailer, Rocky noted, but he still had that glow about him.
Rocky suspected it came from living with Mary, always a positive and cheery influence.

On their way to the house, the children flanking them,
Rocky's parents waved a greeting. "Hello, son. I hope we're not
intruding," Frank said. "Your mother insisted the weather was
far too nice for wasting. Talked me into taking her for a drive.
Somehow, we wound up here."

"Glad to see you," Rocky said. "Come on in. I can offer you
a glass of lemonade."

"We won't stay long," Mary said with a warm smile, pulling her son down to her level so she could plant a kiss on his
cheek. "I want to say hello to your pretty wife. I brought her
the recipes she's been asking for."

"She's not here right now."

Mary's eyes roamed the house as if she didn't believe him.
"Not here? Where on earth is she?"

"She drove into town."

"My goodness! Alone?" The idea seemed to strike Mary
Callahan as absurd. All her life she'd depended on her husband to drive her most everywhere, although she had driven the
wagon to Rocky's house on rare occasions. Apparently she
couldn't abide the notion that some women had a pent-up
desire for independence.

"We just came from town, but we didn't see her," Frank
said, a frown forming on his already wrinkled brow.

Rocky motioned for them to sit, feigning nonchalance.
"That's not so unusual."

"Little Hickman is just that, son-little. Can't very well
come away from there without namin' all and sundry's whereabouts and the purchases they made. I can even name everyone's horses I saw hitched today, not to mention whose wagon
is whose. Didn't see yours, though. Nope."

Rocky chuckled. His father's narrative of the tiny community was true enough. It seemed a place where few secrets
went unshared. It did make him wonder why they hadn't spotted Sarah. Still, he wouldn't let on that it bothered him. He
walked to the kitchen, Rachel on his heels. The girl reached
for five glasses without his even asking her. Apparently she'd
spent enough time watching Sarah to know the ins and outs of
hospitality. When she went for the pitcher of lemonade on her
own, he decided to let her finish the chore.

"Stage came into town today," Frank muttered half-heart-
edly.

Rocky dropped into a chair across the room from his parents. "The stage?"

"Yep. Folks was complainin' 'bout it bein' late. Guess it
dropped a wheel midway. Driver had to send a horseman out
for help."

Rachel handed glasses of lemonade to her grandparents, then returned to the kitchen. Rocky watched her with pride
before turning his attention back to Frank. "You don't miss
much, do you, Pa? Bet you can even describe the passengers."

His father grinned. "Only because I heard a couple of 'em
complainin' about the finely dressed Boston lawyer who rode
in with them. Guess it bothered the man plenty when the wheel
come off. Big inconvenience for the city fellow." Frank harrumphed. "Don't know what Hickman needs with a lawyer."

An unnerving thought surfaced then froze in Rocky's
brain.

Stephen Alden.

Impossible, he thought. Still, it would explain why Sarah
had insisted on going to town alone. If she planned to meet up
with her former beau, she wouldn't want her husband interfering. But this was Sarah. Surely, she didn't plan to leave them
now, not after all they'd been through together. Hadn't she
just confirmed this morning that God had led her straight to
him and the children?

Suddenly, he knew what he had to do. "Ma, Pa-would
you mind awful much-um, staying with the kids while I go
into town? I should probably see what's keeping Sarah. For all
I know she's run into some sort of trouble."

"Didn't mean to worry you none," Frank said. "But it
couldn't hurt to check. 'Course we'll stay with the youngins."

"What about our picnic?" Seth protested. "When will you
be back?"

Rocky rose and went to the boy, patting him on the head
for assurance. "We'll be back before you know it." He could
only pray he spoke the truth.

arch fumbled with her handkerchief, swiping
every so often at her sticky brow and casting nervous glances in both directions as she and Stephen took
the wooden sidewalk to Emma Browning's boardinghouse,
where Stephen had booked a room for one night's stay. Oh,
she hoped no one had seen her go into or leave the bank
with Stephen. The last thing she wanted to do was give rise
to false rumors. Bill Whittaker, the bank president and the
man with whom they'd done their business, was enough to
worry about, his beady eyes bulging with astonishment when
Stephen had explained Sarah's financial position, her wish
to open an account for the new schoolhouse, and her plan to
put the remainder of her assets into multiple accounts using
her and her husband's names. Of course, the banker had
maintained an air of professionalism, but she couldn't help
but wonder how much of it was genuine.

"I should think this will cancel out your husband's need
for a loan on that barn," he'd stated from behind the big oak
desk that separated him from Sarah and Stephen.

"That is entirely up to him, Mr. Whittaker," she'd replied,
annoyed that he should bring the personal matter up in front
of Stephen.

The stuffy little man cleared his throat. "Of course, of
course."

"Are we done here, Stephen?" she'd asked, anxious to leave the small office, whose windows exposed them to the rest of
the bank and its incoming customers.

Stephen closed up his briefcase and stood, extending
his hand across the desk. Sarah took that to mean they were
indeed finished.

"Thank you, Mr. Whittaker," Stephen had said. "I should
think you won't need my services after today."

Mr. Whittaker's chest puffed unduly when he shook Stephen's hand. "I believe I can handle things from here, Mr.
Alden."

At that, they'd left the place, Sarah taking care to keep her
face pointed downward, unsure of just who was in the bank at
the time to watch their departure.

"Thank you for all you've done, Stephen," Sarah said as
they climbed the steps to Emma's porch. "You've been a wonderful friend to me. I'm sorry about the grief you had to go
through getting here. It couldn't have been pleasant for you
disembarking that stage and waiting for three hours along a
dusty road while they repaired the wheel."

He gave a casual shrug. "It's the least I can do for someone as special as you, Sarah Woodward Callahan. Hmm, your
name has a nice ring to it now that I've grown accustomed to
the idea of your marriage."