Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) (21 page)

Sarah had held her breath, wondering how Rocky would
handle his mother's bold offer, but he seemed to take it in
stride with a nod and a chuckle. "I've no doubt you could come
up with a list all by yourself, Ma. Why bother Sarah with such
trivial matters?"

"Well, it's her house, son. She should have a say in such
things." It was certainly true that Sarah had considered inquiring about the need for a few interior improvements, but she
hadn't intended to bring up the matter until they stood on
firmer ground with each other.

To that, Rocky had clearly blushed. "Well then, I suppose
we should leave the matter up to my wife."

"Grandma, what should I do with this?" asked Seth, glaring down at the section of dough Mary had doled out. Sarah
came out of her reverie to watch the banter between grandmother and grandson.

Mary ceased with her work. "Did you wash those hands?"

Seth turned his palms faceup for her inspection. "I knew
you would ask," he said with a gleam in his eye, as if he'd fooled
her with his shrewdness.

"Hmm, clean as a whistle. All right then." She winked
at Sarah, and Sarah winked back, delighted at the chance to
observe the unfolding drama.

"Well then, you first must flour your hands.. .like this," she
instructed, dropping a bit of flour onto his palms and rubbing them gently. "Then you take up your clump of dough and
begin to play with it."

The lessons continued, with Seth mimicking his grandmother's every move until he had worked his doughy sphere
into perfection.

About the time Mary's large loaf and Seth's smaller one,
were ready for the oven, Rachel walked through the door, her
rosy cheeks and wide smile evidence that she'd enjoyed playing by herself down by the creek at the edge of the property.
Accustomed to tending her younger brother, she must have
enjoyed the pleasant reprieve to have a few moments to herself without the responsibility of entertaining him. Not that
anyone had ever forced her to care for him. She'd just assumed
that task all by herself.

"Well, would you look at what the wind just blew in," Mary
declared, all smiles for her granddaughter.

"I just made a loaf of bread, Rachel," Seth cried, his little
chest puffed out with pride.

Rachel shed her winter gear, dutifully hanging up her
coat, scarf, hat, and mittens, and placing her boots side by
side in their assigned place. A smile had etched itself into her
pretty, young face. Sarah reflected on the girl's subtle changes
for good. From being somewhat slipshod and crabby, according to Rocky's observations, the child had seemingly grown to
a new level of maturity. Had Sarah's influence and example
rubbed off on her? She wanted to think that she was making a
positive impact on both her and Seth.

If only Rocky would share her hopes for the children.

"What did you do with yourself, child?" Mary Callahan
asked, wiping her hands on her apron after arranging the loaf
pans in the oven.

"I went looking for pretty stones by Hickman Creek."

Seth raised his head in interest. "Did you find some,
Rachel?"

"A few," she answered, "but none to brag about."

"Where are they?" Seth inquired, his eyes big, as if he'd
never heard of anything so intriguing as hunting for stones.

"I didn't keep any, silly. Next time, maybe I'll find some
worth keepin'."

"Oh." Seth wore disappointment like a bright coat. "Can I
go next time?"

She nodded at her brother then looked at her grandmother.
"Can I help make supper since Seth helped make bread?"

"Gracious me! I've never had so much help." Mary's eyes
glistened silver as she cast Sarah another smile. "Are they
always this ready to lend a hand?"

"They've been very helpful," Sarah said, pulling herself up
from the sofa and waiting for the dizziness to pass, "which is
more than I can say for myself lately."

Mary studied her from across the room, pushing a flourcovered hand through her already white hair. "Now, you stay
put on that sofa, Sarah Callahan."

Sarah shrugged. "But I feel so helpless."

"There is no reason for you to feel guilty for that. You've
had a head injury and the doc says the best thing for you now
is rest."

"That is all I've been doing," she mumbled.

Mary glanced down at both children. "You two go straighten
up your rooms. I see a pile of books and a smattering of toys
on the floor. I'll call you when it's time to start supper." When
neither moved, she added, "Shoo! I want to talk to Sarah."

After they disappeared into their room, Mary untied and
removed her apron, tossing it over a straight-back chair. Sarah
slid over when Mary indicated that she was about to sit beside
her.

The first thing she did was place a hand on Sarah's knee.
With a gentle pat she said, "Now then, my son has asked me to
take over the duties for a few days. Please be honest when I ask
you if my presence in your home bothers you."

Sarah tipped her head to see into her mother-in-law's
aged blue eyes, amazed by the compassion she read in them.
"Absolutely not. I'm happy for the chance to get to know you.
It's nice to know that I still have-a mother. It's just that, well,
I'm afraid I'm shirking my duties as a housewife and caregiver.
The children depend on me and they've had such sorrow."

Mary released a deep sigh. "That they have, but then we've
all tasted it of late you included, with your mother's passing."

Sarah appreciated the kind remark. Rocky had mentioned
little about her personal loss. Would he even care that she had
cried herself to sleep more than once since arriving in Little
Hickman?

"You miss your mother, child?" asked Mary, not bothering
to mince words.

To her great dismay, the question triggered tears, and she
fought to hold them at bay.

"Now, now," Mary said, increasing the number of pats she
gave to Sarah's knee. "It's perfectly fine to let it out. I daresay
you've been strong up to this point, and it's time you let go of
those bottled-up tears."

Perhaps it was the way Mary put an arm around her shoulder, or the smile of warmth she offered. All Sarah knew was
that it was just the invitation she needed to free the tears she
didn't even realize she'd been holding back. For the next few
minutes she blubbered into her mother-in-law's shoulder,
taking the handkerchief offered her and blowing hard, as if that would rid her of her sobs the quicker.

When the well of emotion ran dry, she wiped her eyes one
last time and pulled herself up straight. "Well, I didn't mean
to carry on like that."

Mary shushed her with a flip of her wrist. "I will not accept
any apologies. Why, I've sat myself down for a good cry more
than once. Poor Frank hardly knows what to make of me
sometimes. Tears are God's way of cleansing us of our deepest
hurts, so don't you be holding them back when they need to
come, you hear?"

Sarah sniffed and nodded, embarrassed by her outburst.

Mary's eyebrows rose inquiringly. "Has my son been kind
to you?"

The unexpected question gave Sarah pause, but she had
no trouble answering it. "He's been most considerate."

In fact, he'd been more than polite-carrying her into the
house after her fall and riding like the wind into town after
Doc Randolph, insisting that she follow his precise orders.
Even calling on his mother to help with the chores had been a
thoughtful act, though she supposed his reasons for that were
twofold. At least now he needn't waste time checking on her.

"Well, that's good to know. Rocky was always such a kindhearted boy. Never gave his papa or me a bit of grief while
we were raising him. It's just that now he's..." Her statement
fizzled away.

"What?" Sarah urged. "Please, I want to know all I can
about him." As soon as she voiced the words, she realized the
truth in them.

Mary bit her lip before carrying on. "When he lost Hester
he pretty near died himself, but he had Joseph to consider. He wrapped everything around that boy afterward, took him
everywhere, rarely let him out of his sight. Matter of fact, he
wouldn't even allow Joseph to spend much time with us, and
we were his grandparents.

"Looking back, I'm sure it was because Joseph was all he
had, and he couldn't imagine losing him as well, so he clung
as tight as he could. When Joseph died of the fever, Rocky just
rolled up into himself and never came back out."

Mary's eyes took on a distant look. "My, but that Joseph
was a sweet little boy." Then, just as quickly, she turned her
gaze back on Sarah. "He used to love the Lord, you know, my
Rocky. Never missed a single Sunday service, no sir. Now, well,
I just don't know what goes on in his head. I s'pose in a way
he blames God. He and Hester used to pray about everything.
My, she was a wonderful Christian woman."

The older woman shook her head and patted Sarah's arm.
"I don't mean to go on about Hester."

"No, it's fine. Really. I've asked Rocky about her, but he
has told me very little. I want to know about her. Maybe it will
help me understand your son better."

Mary nodded. "Well, there's not much to tell, except that
she was a fine woman, hardworking, loved farming. Pretty little
thing too. That girl spent more time outside than she did in,
I think. She loved her garden. Of course, it's all but withered
away by now. Rocky never tends it. He's too busy in the fields
raising crops for income.

"When Joseph came along, she took him outside every
chance she got. He was just a few days old when she laid him
in a shady spot next to the garden so she could weed." Mary
shook her head and smiled. "Don't get me wrong, she was a fine mother, very doting, but she wasn't much for staying put
inside these four walls."

Sarah frowned. She was nothing like Hester, and it worried her that Rocky would always regret that about her. Had
he been looking for a substitute for Hester when he'd married
her? If so, he surely must be disappointed.

Mary fixed her eyes on the front window overlooking the
open fields. "Rocky comes off as harsh, especially with those
kids, but the truth is I think he's scared to death of ever loving
another living thing. Seth is right near the age that Joseph
would've been.

"I know it's rough for you now, you losing your mother
and all, marrying a man you didn't even know, moving into
a strange household, taking care of someone else's kids, but I
can't help but feel you're right where God wants you."

Sarah patted the woman's arm and nodded. "Thank you
for that. I didn't come to Little Hickman on a whim. I prayed
in earnest about it, and I've no doubt that God led me here.
I just had no idea how it would turn out. I came to town to
marry one man and wound up with someone altogether different. But I believe I did the right thing in coming."

Mary smiled and nodded. "I believe it as well. Those children need you and so does my Rocky."

As if he'd heard his name mentioned, the door opened
and in came Rocky, bringing a harsh burst of cold air with
him.

"Land, it's cold outside," Mary said. "Close that door."

For a moment, Rocky just stood there watching the two
women, most likely wondering why they huddled so close on
the sofa. "Everything all right?" he asked, eyeing Sarah in a peculiar way before closing the door.

He looked so handsome standing there, his dark eyes
searching Sarah's, his cap nearly covering his thick, brownishblack eyebrows. When he took the cap off, his eyes flickered
with a gleam of awareness. Not knowing what to make of it,
she averted her gaze.

"Of course everything's all right," Mary said, pushing herself up with a slight groan, her plump, round body slowing her
efforts. "Why wouldn't it be?"

He shrugged. "Just curious. You two look awful serious."

Mary laughed. "Women have a right to talk about things,
son," she said, shuffling to the kitchen, her back to both of
them.

Rocky slung off his winter coat. A long-sleeved blue and
white flannel shirt stretched across firm shoulders, ones Sarah
recalled being rock solid when he'd carried her into the house
and she'd leaned her head against them. His black hair fell in
disarray, and he quickly finger-combed it before stepping all
the way inside.

Powerful legs led him directly to the chair beside the sofa.
With a sigh, he dropped into it.

"How is your day going?" Sarah asked.

"Fine," he murmured.

"Tell me what you've done so far," she urged, tucking bare
feet under her.

He seemed to watch that particular movement with interest, his eyes going from her feet back up to her face. "It wouldn't
interest you."

Eager to hear him talk, she countered, "Try me."

One corner of his mouth pulled up. "You serious?"

She nodded and caught Mary watching, a smile creasing her face as she bent over the oven to observe the baking
bread.

"Starting around six I milked my cows and then gathered
nine warm eggs from under some cackling hens," he began in
practiced monotone. "Then I made a few trips from the shed
where I store my hay and other animal feed and saw that the
horses, cows, and hog got their breakfast. Once they were fed I
saw to my own stomach." There were touches of humor around
his mouth while he talked.

"If you recall, I ate in a hurry."

She nodded. "You barely took time to finish your coffee."

He looked casually amused. "After breakfast I took a few
more scraps out to Fester because he never gets quite full
enough."

"Fester?"

"The hog."

She giggled in spite of herself. "I haven't met him yet."

"Your loss," he said as serious as you please. "After that, I
carried several buckets of fresh water into the barn and filled
the troughs. Then I went back to the chicken house to repair a
bit of barbed wire that one of my roosters has been pecking at
in a desperate attempt to reach one of his many mistresses."