Sarah's Heart (23 page)

Yours truly,
Jonathan Montgomery

Sarah tossed the
missive on the bed and walked to the mirror. Catching sight of her reflection,
she grimaced. Bonnets might be all the rage, but they certainly didn’t do a
thing to improve the appearance of one’s hair. He’d seen her like this and
still thought her beautiful? Pulling a brush through her flattened locks, she
considered Jonathan’s invitation. She’d enjoy attending the social, but
wouldn’t her acceptance just encourage his pursuit? Did she care? Even as
handsome as he was, his attitude offended her. No one had the right to look
down their nose at others. Maybe she should tell him how she felt.

She nodded at her
image. “That’s exactly what I’ll do. If he really wants to spend time with me,
he’s going have to make some changes.”

Sarah quickly washed
up, changed into a lighter weight emerald green dress and put Jonathan’s
flowers in the water remaining in her pitcher—her first bouquet. She stood
admiring them when she heard Maggie’s voice in the hallway. “This will be your
room, Mr. Duggan, and the one directly across will be yours.”

Opening her door,
Sarah peered into the hallway. Maggie spied her. “Sarah, dear, please come and
meet Mr. Duggan and Mr. Sikes. They’ve just arrived on the afternoon stage and
will be spending the night. Gentlemen, this is Miss Sarah Collins.”

Both men removed
their hats and smiled. Mr. Duggan was nearly bald and perspiration matted the
few hairs left on his head. His bulbous nose made him even less attractive. Mr.
Sikes, middle-aged if his graying hair proved an indication, wore a vest with
buttons that barely met across a paunchy stomach. There appeared nothing
outstanding about his presence other than he carried a carpetbag that reminded
Sarah of her own.

“Very
nice to meet you both.”
She cocked her head and smiled.

Her plans to discuss
Jonathan’s behavior over supper would have to be put on hold. She’d hoped to
have Maggie as an ally, but with two strangers present, it wasn’t the
appropriate time. She excused herself and went downstairs, trying to figure out
a way to broach the subject without being alone with him. It might make him
defensive but with Maggie in agreement about his unfair treatment of Wolf, then
so be it.

* * *

Sarah finished
wiping down the sideboard. Supper was over and the dishes washed. The two
overnighters had gone up to their room, trailed by Jonathan. She’d thanked him
for the flowers but purposely didn’t mention his invitation. Luckily, he hadn’t
pressed her.

 
Maggie sat at the table, taking a
well-deserved break and sipping a cup of tea. It seemed a good time to seek the
elder woman’s wisdom. Sarah slipped into a chair. “Maggie, what can I do to
make Jonathan reconsider trying to outbid Wolf on his land?”

Maggie ran a finger
along her chin. “I’ve seen lots of men come and go during all my years of
runnin’ this place, and if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that when it comes to
business, most males are stubborn. Did you ever own a boy dog?”

The question struck
Sarah as odd; she shook her head. “I’ve never had one at all.”

“Well, let me tell
you they are notorious for pissin’ on their territory.”

“I’m not sure I
understand.” Sarah flashed a raised brow.

“It’s a term some
use, but very true. Male dogs are famous for markin’ what belongs to ‘em. It’s
just a shame that Jonathan and Wolf both raised their leg on the same spot.
Unless your womanly charms work on Mr. Montgomery, I think you’re out of
options to change things. Clearly, he has more money than Wolf.”

Sarah covered a
gasp, and then lowered her hand. “Maggie, surely you aren’t suggesting….”

“No…no!
Of course not! I still believe in morals and
not beddin’ a man until he puts a ring on your finger. I thought perhaps
spending more time with Jonathan might entice him to see things your way. Only
you might consider not ending your next outing with a slap.” Maggie winked at
Sarah.

“Did you have to
remind me?”

“Just remember why
people value bees. It’s for the honey, not the stinger.” Maggie laughed at her
own joke.

“My, aren’t you just
the town jester tonight.” Sarah chuckled. “First dogs peeing on things and now
comparing me to a bee sting, but I think I get it. Being nice is going to get
me farther with Jonathan, and perhaps I can get him to
mark
another
piece of acreage.”

Maggie tittered.
“Such a quick learner is bound to make a great teacher. We’d better turn in.
You have an appointment in the morning and I’ll have hungry men to feed.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sarah tossed and
turned, tangling herself in the bedcovers. She couldn’t stop her thoughts from
drifting to Wolf. Feelings aside, she owed him her life, so if spending time
with Jonathan helped repay the debt in some way, she’d do it.

Visions of the
upcoming social intermingled with images of Wolf. She envisioned herself in his
arms rather than Jonathan’s. Such a silly notion when the town folks barely
tolerated Wolf riding by them in the street. They certainly wouldn’t welcome
him to a planned event.

Her ‘humph’ sounded
in the silence, “And they consider themselves to be the civilized ones,” she
mumbled. Despite reality, she drifted off, waltzing amidst the startled stares,
held tightly in those strong arms she couldn’t forget no matter how she
tried—until bright sunshine pried at her gritty eyes. Had she slept at all?

She sat and
stretched into a yawn, fighting the urge to slip back beneath the covers and
drift once again into Wolf’s embrace. As much as she loved imagining what
could’ve happened between her and her handsome half-breed, she compared her
dreams to riding a lame horse—going nowhere. Why did she keep torturing
herself?

 
Suddenly, she recalled her appointed meeting
with Judge Lawson about the teaching position and jumped to her feet. Viewing
her washstand, she pulled her face into a pucker. She’d forgotten to get fresh
water, and Jonathan’s flowers were in what remained from yesterday.

The aroma of frying
bacon wafted in the air, making her stomach rumble. She faced a dilemma. She
dared not go downstairs clad only in her nightdress, but she had no wrapper to
cover herself. There was no way to fill her pitcher unless she dressed first.
After all, there were men in the house. Generally one washed up first, but not
today.

Driven by hunger,
Sarah donned her undergarments, stockings and shoes then pondered her wardrobe.
Which dress would be most appropriate to a judge? She elected the brown cotton
with waistline piping that came to a vee in front. The full sleeves gathered
into crisp white cuffs that matched the collar. The paisley print inset added
contrast to the bodice and provided the perfect touch of modesty.

 
The three flounces of her wide skirt cascaded
over her petticoats and draped over her button-top shoes. Sarah stood on
tiptoes and surveyed her midsection with a giggle. Styles had certainly changed
since her simple cotton housedresses in Hannibal.
The flowing skirts definitely enhanced her shape. She spanned her waist with
her hands, expecting the fingers on each to meet. If she’d bought that
contraption they called a corset, they probably would have, but she settled for
a comfortable chemise instead.

If only she’d had
enough money for more than one bonnet. Luckily, hers was neutral and suitable
with most any color dress. The more prim and proper she looked, the better her
chances of impressing the judge. She swatted at an annoying fly. The heat
seemed to drive them indoors.

Sarah pulled her
hair back into a simple bun, her heart pounding with excitement. She’d dreamed
of this job. Raising her eyes to the ceiling, she sought Divine intervention.
“Please, God. I need your help. Just one more time and I’ll...”

Her prayer was
interrupted by a knock. She smoothed the sides of her hair one more time,
crossed the room, and opened the door. She experienced a little catch in her
throat to see Jonathan.

“Sorry to bother
you, but Maggie sent me to fetch you. Breakfast is ready and getting cold.” His
assessing gaze couldn’t have been more obvious. “My, don’t you look lovely this
morning.”

Sarah lowered her
eyes. “Thank you.”

“If I might ask, are
you going somewhere?”

“Yes, I’m inquiring
about a teaching position this morning.”

His eyes widened, as
did a smirking smile.
“Teaching?
I’m not sure I would
have matched you with that particular profession.”

She stiffened.
“And why not?”

Jonathan sobered. “I
didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just that most teachers I recall were… well…
homely, for lack of a better word… and rigid. You know what I mean—afraid to
laugh and relax? You don’t strike me as the teaching type.”

“And, in your
opinion, which kind of employment best suits me?” She adjusted her cuffs and
waited.

“Sales,
perhaps.
I know you could
sell me
anything
.”

Feeling her cheeks
heat, Sarah cleared her throat. “Please tell Maggie I’ll be right down.” She
closed the door and crossed to the mirror. Staring at her image, she tucked a
stray wisp into her bun. “Damnation, that man and his improper insinuations…
but perhaps he’s right,” she grumbled, then laughed. “I’m certainly going to
have to sell him a load of horse manure if I want to help Wolf.”

Sarah picked up her
pitcher, flowers and all, and headed downstairs. She paused on the bottom step
and took a deep breath. Sometime today she aimed to tell Jonathan she’d accept
his invitation to the social. Despite wanting to experience the event, her
palms dampened at the thought of another outing with him. She fixed a smile on
her face and sauntered into the kitchen.

All eyes turned when
she entered. Jonathan’s piercing blue ones bore into her more so than the
others. “Good morning, all.”She stopped at the head of the table.

The two overnighters
nodded in response but continued eating as if it were their last meal.

“My goodness, what
beautiful flowers,” Maggie exclaimed, a curious arch to her brow.

“Yes, aren’t they?
They’re from Jonathan. Do you have something I can put them in besides my
pitcher.”

Maggie rose and
fished in the cupboard beneath the pump.
“How about this
jar?”

When the flowers
were arranged in fresh water, Sarah set the bouquet on the counter and moved to
the table. Jonathan jumped to his feet and pulled out her chair. “Allow me.”

She sat across from
Mr. Sikes who seemed unaffected by the goings on around him. Accepting the cup
of coffee Maggie offered, Sarah blew on the steaming contents and waited for it
to cool.

“Did you sleep
well?” She purposely kept her eyes trained on the two travelers, but sensed
Jonathan’s continued stare.

Duggan rapidly
chewed and swallowed. “Yes’em. A right nice evening it was. It felt good to get
out of that coach for a while. I only wish we could tarry a day or two to take
in the sights, but Mr. Sikes and I are catching the early stage.”

“Pity.
The early fall social is a week from
Friday.” She turned to Jonathan. “And speaking of, I’ve considered your
invitation and I’d like to accompany you… that
is
if
you still want me to.”

His face dimpled as
a smile emerged.
“Of course.
I’d consider it an
honor.”

Maggie set a filled
plate in front of Sarah. “I don’t mean to put a damper on your festivity
plannin’, but you’d best hurry and eat and get on over to see Judge Lawson. You
never know how many others are vying for that teachin’ position.”

Jonathan covered his
mouth in a futile attempt to stifle a laugh. Sarah squinted and cast him a
disapproving glare. He straightened in his chair and took a bite of egg yolk,
his face sober, his gaze focused on his plate.

Homely and rigid,
indeed! Looks had nothing to do with how a body fared in their calling. She
turned back to Maggie. “I’ll just have bacon and a biscuit. I’m too excited to
eat much. Do you really think I have a chance?”

“As good as anyone,
I imagine. But it’s a smart filly who lines up at the gate before the rest of
the competition.”

Sarah chuckled at
the woman’s continued comparisons to animals. She quickly finished her buttered
bread, washing it down with two large swallows of coffee, then stood, smoothing
her dress. “Then I guess this thoroughbred mare better gallop off to Judge
Lawson’s office. Wish me luck.”

“May I drive you?”
Jonathan dabbed at his lips with his napkin.

“I appreciate your
kindness, but no. The walk will do me good and give me time to clear my head.”
The last thing she needed on her mind today was Jonathan Montgomery and trying
to figure out how to sway him from his mission. With squared shoulders and fake
determination, she left the boarding house for her interview. Morning dew still
glistened on the rooftops and some shopkeepers were opening their doors for
business. The air was pleasantly cool.