Mail Order Man

by Heather Gray

Published by Astraea Press

www.astraeapress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

MAIL ORDER MAN

Copyright © 2013 HEATHER GRAY

ISBN 978-1-62135-148-1

Cover Art Designed by AM Design Studio

in celebration of my Savior

in memory of my daughter

with pride in my son

with gratitude for my husband

Chapter One

Larkspur, Idaho Territory

April 1878

Sarah had noticed a number of new faces in town over the past few days, and it was beginning to make her more than a bit uncomfortable. The new faces were all men. Sure, men outnumbered women in every frontier town, but Sarah had seen more than a dozen new men and had heard rumors that Mrs. Ginty’s boarding house was full-up, which had never happened before. Larkspur was a small frontier town in a territory sparsely populated, and Sarah had never before heard of Mrs. Ginty having to turn away customers.

New people in town can sometimes mean good news. Businesses certainly like having more customers. It can mean trouble, too, though, when the newcomers start to outnumber the homegrown townsfolk. Sarah had heard tell of towns where ruffians had swarmed in, taking over the town and practically holding the locals prisoner by sheer force of number. A small shudder overtook her at the thought of such brutality.

Sarah’s papa had well trained her how to take care of and provide for herself, but ever since he passed away, she had no one to protect her should the need ever arise. Sighing, she forced her loneliness back down, beating it into submission by sheer force of will.

Keeping her eyes directed down, Sarah walked from the small house she had once shared with Papa. She was heading to the stage office for a long day of work and, with all these new people in town, did not want to make eye contact with the wrong individual. The workday hadn’t even yet begun, but Sarah couldn’t wait for the day to be finished. This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it, Sarah quoted in her mind as she reminded herself to be grateful. She was looking forward to sharing a meal with her dearest friend tonight. Dinner with the Smiths held much more appeal than another long day at the stage office. Visiting with Minnie and her folks was always delightful. Sarah also hoped Minnie’s father, who was mayor of Larkspur, might be able to shed some light on the flood of strange men showing up in town.

Sarah heard a commotion to her left. Before she could even raise her eyes to see what was going on, someone came barreling out from the mercantile and plowed right into her. Sarah’s feet flew out from under her, and she landed out in the street, far from the boardwalk on which she had a moment ago been walking. Before she could take stock of the situation to determine if she’d landed in mud or manure, at least a dozen hands were reaching out to help her up. Frightened by all of the men crowding in around her and not sure of their intentions, Sarah scrambled to her feet and backed up from the growing crowd. She did not recognize a single face from the group that continued to step closer to her.

As she scurried backward, Sarah ran right smack into a wall. She didn’t remember a wall being there in the middle of the street, but sure enough, she was trapped between the wall behind her and the wall of men walking toward her.

“Pardon me, gentlemen, but I think you have frightened the lady here.” Sarah stiffened as she heard the wall behind her speak. Her head whipped back and up. With the sun shining right into her eyes, she couldn’t see the face of her rescuer, but his voice was confidently calm, loud enough to carry to all of the men who had been reaching toward her without actually sounding as though he’d raised his voice. “Miss, are you okay?” It took Sarah a moment to realize the talking wall was speaking to her.

“Y-y-yes, thank you.” Sarah struggled to get the words out past a suddenly dry and scratchy throat.

“That was quite a fall you took. Are you sure you are alright?”

Glancing down at her dress, Sarah saw that, thankfully, she had landed on a dry patch of dirt and, though dusty, was not covered with mud or worse. She knew she would be sore later, but she was still in too much shock right now to feel the effects of her fall into the street. Thank goodness a horse or carriage had not been riding by at the time – she could have been badly hurt!

“Yes, sir, thank you. I am fine and must be on my way now.”

Sarah considered the path up Main Street toward her destination and saw what now appeared to be more than twenty men standing around ogling her. Completely beside herself with discomfort at the situation, she tried to take a step back only to be reminded of the talking wall behind her.

Without removing her eyes from the crowd of men, she spoke to the one behind her. “Pardon me, sir, but could I be so bold as to request your assistance in a small matter?”

There was a smile behind the man’s voice, Sarah was certain of it, as he softly answered, “I will accommodate you if I can, Miss. With what do you need assistance?”

Sarah felt the hint of a shiver she knew could not be attributed to the weather. It was either fear because of the men in front of her… or something else because of the man behind her. Not wanting to dissect her feelings quite yet, she uttered, “I need to pass these men to get to the stage office. I find that…” Sarah tried to think of a delicate way to say she wasn’t sure if she’d make it there safely if she went alone.

Before Sarah could even take a full breath, though, or find the correct words, she felt herself lifted by the waist and placed back up onto the boardwalk. The talking wall immediately joined her and offered his arm to her. Sarah tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, still not knowing the man’s name.

In the shade now, after having been blinded by the sun, Sarah took another glance up at her talking wall but still could not make out any features on the man’s face. She knew he was quite tall, but Sarah could not even identify the color of his hair, let alone any distinguishing features.

“I wonder what all of these men are doing in town. It’s a trifle disconcerting,” she said to the man walking beside her.

“Ah,” he replied. “I believe they are after the same thing most people are after.”

Not sure how to take that answer, Sarah asked, “What, then, is it most people are after?”

“Love.”

Sarah was surprised at the laugh that bubbled up inside of her, for she was the serious one, not prone to outbursts of laughter, or so she had always believed. Not sure what to think of her own laughter, she instead puzzled over the companion’s answer. She would not have associated a fanciful notion such as love with the talking wall that had rescued her.

She heard the smile in his voice again as he went on, “Either that, or someone to raise their children and do their laundry.”

“A wife then?” Sarah questioned. “Why would anyone come to Larkspur looking for a wife? We have no more women than any other town in the territory.” Certain the man beside her was having a joke at her expense, she waited for the punch line, but none was forthcoming. They arrived at the stage office where, without delay, Sarah unlocked the office door, stepped inside, and began opening the curtains.

“Thank you for escorting me. Could I offer you some coffee, Mr….” Hoping the talking wall would provide her with the information she sought, Sarah let her sentence hang. What she got for her effort was a deep-throated chuckle that seemed both sincere and humor-filled, and again she felt the joke was somehow at her expense.

Disgruntled, she put her satchel away and then stood there next to the percolator specifically not making any coffee. She gave him the best Do-As-I-Say look she could muster under the circumstances and made not a single move toward the coffee tin as she awaited his response. Sarah was shocking herself with her own audacity. Something about this man was making her act different, bolder. Sarah quickly decided she liked this new side of herself and that she also liked the man who drew it out of her.

“My apologies, Miss. You reminded me so much there of one of my cousins I couldn’t help but laugh. I sincerely meant no harm.”

Sarah relaxed her shoulders, somewhat mollified by his words.

“The pleasure of escorting you was all mine, I assure you. No thanks are necessary.”

As she continued to look at him pointedly, he held out one hand and began ticking off fingers as he spoke to himself in a voice intended to carry. “Let’s see. She thanked me for the escort, and I responded. When she didn’t like my laughing, I apologized. She offered me coffee… aha!” Looking up at her with a distinctive twinkle in his golden brown eyes, he said, “Why yes, Miss, I would enjoy a cup of coffee if it’s not too much trouble.” Winking at her, he added, “Samuel Livingston at your service.”

Sarah tried to be unaffected, but the way he swept his hat off and bowed as he introduced himself had her heart fluttering faster than a bumblebee in a field of clover. As for his wink, Sarah wasn’t sure which was more scandalous – the fact he winked or the way her heart raced at the sight of it.

****

The moment Sarah got the small stove lit, Cesar Martinez came into the office. “Good morning, Miss Jenkins.” He tipped his hat to her and asked, “What do you need me to do first this morning?”

Sarah instructed Cesar to sweep out the office and the front walk. She was going to send him on an errand, but she didn’t want him to go quite yet. Being alone with the talking wall no longer seemed the wisest choice. As Cesar collected the broom to start sweeping, Mr. Livingston hung his hat on the hook near the front door and leaned against the counter behind which Sarah normally worked. His relaxed posture made him seem less formidable. Without his hat on, Sarah could get a good look at his face for the first time. Casually stepping behind the counter, she hoped to get a better view of her talking wall without being obvious.

“Are you alright, Miss?” asked Mr. Livingston. Sarah nodded and glanced over to where the coffee was not quite ready. He was, by her own design, directly in her line of sight. All hope for an unobtrusive glance at her rescuer quickly fled as she absorbed the sight of him with all her senses. She was stunned to realize how beautiful he was. Never before had she seen a man whose mere presence took her breath away. Her heart no longer fluttered like a bumblebee. It thumped like a herd of wild mustangs.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Sarah allowed his image play across her mind’s eye. He was tall, but she’d already known that. He had intense eyes, chocolate brown at the outer edge and pure glittering gold around the pupil. His hair was cut short but remained just unruly enough to hint at being curly, and it, too, was filled with various hues of gold. He was tan but not the weather-worn dark tan of a rancher or farmer. He had a strong jaw, a straight nose, and lips that curled up in laughter even when he wasn’t laughing. He was dressed like a businessman, only flashier. The suit he wore was a fairly traditional grey, but his vest was bright red. He had a flair about him that Sarah could not quantify. One thing was certain, though. Sarah was sure she would drown in those eyes, forever losing herself, if she stared too long.

“Are you alright, Miss?” Mortified at her own imaginings and wandering mind – something she was definitely not prone to – Sarah tried to control her staring eyes and nodded, then quickly blushed. Feeling the heat of embarrassment climb up her neck and into her cheeks, she quickly turned her back on the man and went back over to where the coffee was percolating. Grabbing two mugs, she filled them both, handing one to Mr. Livingston and taking the other back over to her work counter. As she set her mug down she realized the brew appeared no stronger than what you might give a baby to drink. Groaning inwardly, Sarah hoped the man liked weak coffee. Who was she kidding? It wasn’t weak coffee. It was colored water!

As Sarah was about to apologize for the coffee, Cesar came through the door to tell her the morning stage was approaching. She peeked at the clock and said to no one in particular, “It’s an hour early. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

Cesar put the broom up and went out to greet the stage.

Sarah resumed her post behind the counter. Most all of the stage drivers knew her from when her father ran the stage office, but sometimes there were new drivers or unruly passengers, and so when her father passed away, Sarah had stopped going out to greet the incoming stage. Each driver was directed into the office to meet her there. She provided them with coffee, a kind word, and often a bite to eat, but she did not go out onto the platform if she could help it.

“How old is the lad who helps you?” asked Mr. Livingston.

“Cesar? He is 14, I think.”

“Awfully young to be working here. Shouldn’t he be in school?”

Sarah nodded. “Cesar and his brothers do not attend the local school. We used to have a teacher in town that had a problem with the family, so their mother started teaching them at home. A new teacher came along a few years back, but the family had settled into their routine and decided to keep it. All three of them are well ahead of their school-bound peers in their learning. Their mother does an excellent job with them.”

“Doesn’t working here keep him away from his studies, though?”

“May I ask why you have such an interest in my hired help?” Sarah did not want to sound surly, but she was not used to people questioning business decisions, such as her choice in employees.

“I am visiting town on a business matter and staying with my cousin and her husband. He is the school teacher in town. A person who spends any time at all with John will naturally learn to be attentive to educational matters and sensitive to the needs of rural families. For example, parents sometimes pull their kids out of school because they need the money their labor can bring.” Following an almost imperceptible pause, Mr. Livingston continued, “Larkspur is lucky to have such a caring teacher.”

Sarah gave Mr. Livingston a genuine smile, for she knew the school teacher and his wife well. They attended the same church as she and would, on occasion, invite Sarah over for dinner. They were wonderful people. Sarah remembered they had been praying for safe travel for a relative but could not at the moment recall anything more on the subject.

Nodding at Mr. Livingston, she said, “You can ask Ida and John about Cesar. I am certain you will be pleased with what you hear. John has helped Cesar’s mother obtain books and other materials whenever needed for her boys’ education. He checks in on them periodically, too, at the parents’ request to make certain the boys are not falling behind in any of their studies. Cesar and his two brothers all work here at the Stage Office. As the youngest, Cesar only started a month or so ago and works one day here by himself and sometimes comes in on Saturday to help as well.”

She couldn’t be certain, but Sarah thought she saw appreciation in Mr. Livingston’s eyes. His smile seemed genuine and quite dangerous in its charm. “Who helps you the rest of the week?”

There didn’t seem to be anything amiss with Mr. Livingston’s questions. After all, he knew Ida and John. However, habits of self-protection are hard to break, and her father had taught her from the time she was little that sometimes, when people ask questions that seem innocent, they are actually trying to get information that could cause harm. Sarah’s gut told her it was okay to trust Mr. Livingston, but she could hear her father’s voice telling her to do her due diligence. She would check with Ida and John about her talking wall before she revealed any additional information to him about the stage office, herself, or the wonderful family she employed at the office.

As she made her decision, the front door banged open and Cesar came in carrying a sack of mail and dragging another behind him. “My goodness!” said Sarah as she rushed to help him.

“There’s more,” Cesar said. “Lots more.”

“What on earth! We don’t get this much mail in a month of Sundays, let alone on one single stage.” Trying not to appear as discombobulated as she felt by this influx of mail, Sarah asked Cesar, “Where are the passengers? Does anyone have anything to store or need assistance finding accommodations?”

Cesar’s eyes searched wildly around the room as though seeking an answer in the wood and plaster. He almost seemed afraid to say anything more. Then, looking over his shoulders as if searching for someone lurking behind him, he whispered to her, “There are no passengers. This isn’t even the real stage. The stage will be here on time with passengers and mail. This is all the extra mail they couldn’t fit onto the coach. There’s about six more bags out there, and the driver is fit to be tied. No one planned on an extra trip out here this week, but the mail has been getting backed up at the last stop. Their office is small, and they couldn’t keep our mail there any longer waiting for room on the stages – so they sent it over straightaway to get it out of their office.”

Sarah glanced out the window at the office platform, saw the bags of mail being pulled from the stage and piled up there. “Oh my,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen the likes.”

Chapter Two

“Mr. Livingston, could you kindly help Cesar bring the bags in and pile them behind the counter here please?”

“Will you call me Samuel if I do?”

Sarah could see Mr. Livingston meant the statement in humor, but her humor had fled. Until she confirmed with Ida and John that he was who he said he was, she was not comfortable allowing more familiarity with him than she already had. Add to that the problem of all this mail, which Sarah was still certain had to be some kind of mistake, plus her run-in with the men in town that very morning, and Sarah wasn’t sure what to do.

She finally answered, “Mr. Livingston, I appreciate the invitation, but we have not yet been formally introduced, and I do not think it is proper for me to call you by your given name.”

Samuel certainly wouldn’t need to be a super sleuth in order to notice how uncomfortable Sarah had become. Her experience in town that morning came rushing back to her, and she couldn’t believe how uncharacteristically permissive she had been with him up to this point. Pulling formality around her like a cloak of protection, Sarah took only a small step back but managed to place a gulf between them. Samuel, for his part, nodded respectfully to her and then went to help with the mail bags.

As Samuel went out the door, Sarah could have kicked herself. She knew she sounded stilted but seemed able to do nothing to change. Knowing plenty of work was waiting and that she needed to put her enchanting talking wall out of her mind, she pulled her work apron down from its hook and tied it behind her back in her normal no-nonsense way. Sarah then pivoted around only to see, through the front window, her handsome talking wall dumping out the rest of the coffee she had made. The entire contents of the pot, not simply what was in his mug, went flying. He raised his head, and his eyes widened in surprise. Offering her a crooked grin, he shrugged guiltily, telling Sarah he’d been hoping his actions would go without notice.

Sarah stared at him blankly, not sure what to make of his action. On his face was an expression mirroring that of a little kid who had been caught pilfering candy. Sarah’s eyes fell to the mug of coffee she had set for herself on the counter. Even in a solid-colored mug she could see straight through the coffee to the bottom of the cup.

The door clinked softly as Samuel came back through it. When Sarah didn’t say anything, he spoke up. “I thought I would make a fresh pot?”

The events of the day thus far conspired together in Sarah’s mind. The ludicrous situation with the mail piling up around her, the terribly weak coffee she saw sitting in her own mug, and the way in which Samuel mentioned the coffee – more like a question than a statement – all caused a laugh to bubble up out of Sarah. She was certain she ought to behave in a more refined and serious manner given the uncertain nature of her relationship with Samuel, but she could not hold the laughter in. Before she knew it, she was doubled over in laughter and wiping tears away from her eyes as she gasped for breath.

****

Samuel did not laugh as he stood there watching Sarah. He simply drank in the sight of her. Never had he seen a woman so attractive before. It was apparent she was beautiful when he saw her on the street. When he realized she ran the stage office, he knew she was a good Christian woman, for his cousin had already mentioned her to him. The way she conducted herself with Cesar and defended his parents’ schooling of their boys demonstrated her kindness. Not until she let her guard down and began laughing, though, did he realize how breathtaking Sarah was. Her face shone with joy and good humor, and the fact that she could laugh at herself and her own awful coffee only served to cultivate the emerging attraction he felt for her.

A few curls had worked themselves loose from Sarah’s bun and bounced around her head in a way that made Samuel’s hand itch to reach out and discover for himself if those curls were as soft as they appeared. Her eyes twinkled with merriment. The corners of her mouth tilted up, making Samuel want nothing more than to kiss the laugh lines that now framed her captivating rosy lips. Samuel could not tear his eyes away from her mouth and fought to gain control of himself so he would not frighten her. He had been dealing with matchmaking mamas for a lot of years and had dealt with many a young woman being pushed in front of him for inspection. This was the first time, though, he felt a stirring deep inside of him in response to a woman. The urge to get closer to and know more about the lady before him was nearly overwhelming. What made her grey-green eyes dance with mirth? How would her wheat-colored hair hang down her back once it was out of its bun? Samuel wanted to run his fingers along her delicate jaw and see her eyes darken with the same feelings coursing through him. He wanted… Samuel reined his thoughts in by sheer force of will, not wanting the intensity he felt to be apparent in his gaze.

****

As Sarah settled down and got her laughter under control, she nodded to Samuel and said, “Alright then, Mr. Livingston, you may make a fresh pot of coffee, but I’m warning you, if it turns out as bad as mine did, I won’t try to spare your feelings by sneaking around to dispose of it while you aren’t paying attention. I’ll toss it out while you stand right there watching.” So there would be no mistake and he would know she was jesting with him, she added, “Though that was terribly kind of you,” and gave him a wink. Sarah was shocked by her own daring and quickly pivoted away, busying herself with work so Samuel would not see her own reaction to the wink she’d given him.

****

“This does not make any sense at all,” Sarah mumbled to herself as she sorted through the mail. Letter after letter was addressed to Eligible Female, Larkspur, Idaho Territory.

Cesar had been helping her to go through the mail in each bag, trying to separate it between the pieces for Eligible Female and those for the town’s residents. So far only two pieces of mail had been for residents of Larkspur. The rest were for Eligible Female.

Sarah jotted a note onto a piece of paper and called Cesar over. “Cesar, I need you to take this to the mayor please. Tell him it is not life-threatening but it is urgent.”

The look on Cesar’s face declared his panic to everyone within sight. “Señorita, no hay…”

If his expression of horror hadn’t been enough, Sarah would have known by his lapse into Spanish that he was extraordinarily uncomfortable with her request. She patted her hair back into place as she thought this through. “Cesar, I need to get this note to the mayor, but I cannot leave the stage office. I need you to do this for me. It’s important.”

“Miss Jenkins, if I may,” Samuel, who had remained at the office, interjected. “I was supposed to escort my cousin to the mercantile this morning. I would gladly accompany Cesar to the mayor’s office before going to collect her.”

Worried Cesar might be offended by the offer, Sarah watched him closely. Her young employee, she knew, did not like being treated as a child. The look of relief on the boy’s face was so genuine, though, there was no way Sarah could deny Samuel’s request. She was not entirely comfortable being alone at the office today, in light of the strange mail and her encounter with the men this morning in town, but this seemed a good solution. Sarah paused in her thoughts as she realized she was having trouble with mail and males. There had to be a joke in there somewhere, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure it out.

Knowing Cesar would come back straightaway and she would not be alone at the office for long, Sarah felt comfortable with Samuel’s plan.

“Excellent, Mr. Livingston! I do believe you may be the perfect solution.”

Realizing what she’d said, Sarah stammered for a moment and then quickly corrected herself. “I mean to say, I do believe you may have the perfect solution.” A light blush tinted her cheeks as she waved Samuel and Cesar off. As they left, Sarah returned to her work sorting the mail. She had admonished Cesar to be sure to get back before the next stage arrived, and she knew he would honor that request.

****

Sarah had managed to rescue seven pieces of mail for real live Larkspur residents by the time Cesar returned from the mayor’s office. “The mayor said he would be along within the hour, Señorita.”

Sarah nodded and thanked him for the message as the next stage arrived. A frenzy of activity ensued as everyone became busy with both passengers and more mail flooding into the stage office.

Putting on her best smile, Sarah greeted the passengers as they came into the office to inquire about lodging, luggage, and stage connections that would deliver them to other towns. She noticed two more men arrive who seemed a bit less than reputable and who did not come into the stage office but rather lingered outside in a way Sarah typically frowned upon.

Accompanying the passengers were another three bags of mail. Along with the six bags of mail on the previous stage, these bags set a new record for Larkspur. Sarah had been running the stage office for the past two years. Prior to that, she had helped her father run the office for as long as she could remember. In all those years, Sarah could not recall a single month when they had received this much mail, let alone a single day. This Eligible Female business, whatever it was, was going to be a problem. She could feel it. Somebody somewhere was up to something, and Larkspur was the butt of the joke… or of a sinister plot. Exactly which was yet to be determined.

The mayor walked into the stage office as the driver and guard for the stage came in to get some coffee and visit for a few minutes. “Sarah, it’s good to see you. What is the urgent matter?”

“Mr. Mayor, we have received more mail today than we’ve ever gotten before, and all the letters in those bags,” she pointed to four full bags of mail piled up in a corner of the office, “are addressed to Eligible Female.” Sarah pointed at the floor all around her as she continued, “I’ve also got five bags here I haven’t been able to go through yet, but they’re likely all the same.” She grabbed one of the letters she had most recently been sorting and handed it to the mayor. “I don’t know what to do. Who is this and what is the reason for all of this mail?”

Sarah was only starting to wind up and could have gone on listing all of the questions she had swirling around her head. The guard from the stage pronounced, “Miss Jenkins, we might have an idea of what’s going on here.”

All eyes swung to the guard. The mayor spoke first. “That’s wonderful, Mr. …ah…”

“Mr. Zilner,” Sarah supplied.

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Zilner. What light can you shed on this situation?”

As the mayor finished his question, Samuel walked back into the stage office with Ida Grayson, the schoolteacher’s wife. Sarah was pleased to see Ida and was only half-tempted to immediately go over to ask her about Samuel and see if she could get the formal introduction she sought. Instead, she kept her place behind the counter and swiveled her eyes attentively to Mr. Zilner.

All eyes on him, Mr. Zilner suddenly appeared shy. Sarah had known him for years and had never before seen him so discomfited. He removed his hat and nodded to Sarah, speaking directly to her rather than to the other people in the room.

“We’ve been having a lot of riffraff showing up along the stage line, all, it seems, heading here to Larkspur. A couple of us w’at work for the stage have overheard talk at some of the saloons. These men all seem to be looking for a wife. We couldn’t none of us figure out why they’d think to be finding one in Larkspur of all places, but that’s what it seems to be.”

“But why would anybody think to find a wife here in Larkspur?” asked Mayor Smith.

Remembering his earlier remark, Sarah’s eyes swung to Samuel just as he stepped into the midst of the growing ruckus and spoke up. “I think I have an answer to that, Mr. Mayor. Getting to Larkspur to visit Ida was on my agenda, but not this soon,” he said with a nod toward his cousin. “There were a couple of other stops I had planned to make along the way first. I saw something, though, that caught my eye and told me to head straight here. Trouble is heading to Larkspur, and I was hoping I could get here ahead of it.” Samuel placed a newspaper on the counter. It was opened to the classified section, and one particular ad had been circled in ink. “Take a look at this.”

Seeking Husband

Must be honest, faithful and true.

Must be a good Christian man.

Send inquiries to:

Eligible Female

Larkspur, Idaho Territory

Everyone in the office crowded around to see the ad. The mayor blanched. Ida’s hand went to her throat. Sarah was sure her own face reflected the shock she felt. Samuel was the first to speak. “This would be funny if it wasn’t so dangerous. Mayor, you’re going to need to talk to the sheriff, get some men deputized and have a town meeting to discuss how to handle this. All unaccompanied or unprotected women need to understand the danger they could be in, and they need to have protection provided to them. An ad like this won’t only bring in the good Christian men. It’ll bring in any man who thinks he can profit – either monetarily or physically – from a plethora of eligible women.” After a brief pause Samuel exclaimed, “Exactly how many eligible females are there in this town, anyway?”

Sarah found her voice at last. “Cesar, go get your brothers and your parents, please. I am going to need their help. Run quickly.” Hopeful she would not be pulling them away from important work, Sarah could not shake the sense of urgency she felt as she waved her young employee out the door. She then directed her attention to Samuel and Ida. “Ida, get pencil and paper, and let’s start making a list of the eligible women in the area. Not only in town, mind you, but in the surrounding areas as well, anyone who might be at risk if they don’t have protection.”

Having regained some of his color, Mayor Smith commanded attention with his posture and voice. “Mr. Livingston, I’ll ask you to stay here with Miss Jenkins until Cesar and his family return. She will be safe with them on the premises.”

“Call me Samuel. I had planned to stay until their arrival anyway.”

“Good, Samuel, thank you. When you are done here, please come by the sheriff’s office. I have a feeling we will need every able-bodied man in town. We will have a town meeting tonight at six o’clock at the church, and we will need to make sure all eligible females are safely escorted there and back home afterward.”

“After you announce what is going on, Mayor,” Sarah said, “some of those eligible females may not wish to return home where they will be alone. Perhaps Reverend Green could speak to some of the families in town to see if they would be willing to take in some of the single women for a couple of nights until this is all resolved.”

“Excellent idea, Sarah. When the Martinez family returns, can you send one of the boys to fetch the reverend to the sheriff’s office for me? There is no time to lose here.” With that, Mayor Smith spun toward the door and started walking with purpose and muttering to himself as he walked.

Because the mayor’s youngest daughter Minnie was Sarah’s best friend, Sarah had grown up around the Mayor and knew him well. She knew he was making a to-do list as he muttered. Sarah was certain he wouldn’t forget a single item on that list, either, and wouldn’t rest until the list had been completed. The town was in good hands with Mayor Smith.

As he got to the door, the mayor whirled around and speared Sarah with his eyes. “You will be staying at our house, young lady, until this business is all settled. Have Mr. Martinez escort you home to collect whatever you need when you are done here today, and then have him escort you to my house. Go nowhere unaccompanied. Do I make myself clear?”

Though Sarah’s independent streak rebelled at being spoken to in such a manner, she knew the words were spoken out of love and didn’t take offense. “As a bell, Mayor, but I am going to need to work late. Can I have Mr. Martinez escort me to the meeting tonight instead, and then I can go home with your family after?”

“I have your word you will go nowhere unaccompanied?” the mayor asked gruffly.

Sarah simply answered, “Yes, sir.” She stopped herself from asking if he meant her to be accompanied to the outhouse as well.

The mayor, seemingly satisfied with Sarah’s answer, nodded briskly and said, “That will be fine then.” He and her father had been good friends, and the mayor always treated her as though he had a soft spot for her. Sarah suspected he was more worried about this unfolding situation than he let on.

Mr. Zilner and the stage driver finished their coffee and took their leave. “We’ll see you at the meeting tonight Miss Sarah.”

Sarah nodded at Mr. Zilner’s words. Then the driver added, “I can’t wait to see what this town comes up with. I’m bettin’ the folks o’ Larkspur are gonna be madder ‘n a mama grizzly.”

The Martinez boys arrived and informed Sarah that their parents would be along in about an hour. Sarah sent Carlos, the oldest of the brothers, to find the reverend and let him know he was needed at the sheriff’s office. She asked him to check with the mayor to see if he was needed for anything else before returning to the stage office. She then put the other boys to work going through the remaining bags of mail to make sure they did not miss anything intended for town residents.

Ida had paper and pencil out and had begun making a list of eligible females in the area. Sarah was about to start helping her brainstorm for names when she realized Samuel was still standing there.

“Mr. Livingston, I’m so sorry! I forgot you were here. With the boys here, you are able to take your leave if you wish.”

“Oh Sarah, please forgive me!” spoke Ida. “I should have introduced you. Samuel, this is Sarah. She runs the stage office here in Larkspur, as I’m sure you’ve realized. Sarah, this is my cousin Samuel. He has business in the area and is going to be staying with us for a spell.”

Samuel reached for Sarah’s hand and bowed with a flourish. She saw the twinkle in his eyes as he pronounced, “It is a pleasure to meet one such as yourself. Please, Miss Jenkins, call me Samuel.”

Sarah felt the blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. The attention he gave her was flattery at its best. She had to ask herself, though, if he was always this bold in his behavior, or if this was a show he was putting on for only her. Working to keep her voice sounding normal and not breathless, Sarah uttered, “Of course Samuel, and you may call me Sarah.”

When he made no move to leave the stage office, Sarah felt even more flattered. Then she caught the look Samuel and Ida exchanged and realized he would go nowhere until Ida was ready to leave. Of course he would remain with his cousin as her escort to keep her safe. Samuel was not, it became apparent, staying at the stage office for any reason other than his cousin’s safety. Remaining at the stage office for Sarah’s sake had probably not even occurred to him. Swallowing the hurt that unexpectedly rose in her throat at that realization, Sarah bent back to Ida’s list and got on with business.

Chapter Three

“Here, here! This meeting is called to order!” The mayor’s voice boomed through the crowded church. Every available seat was taken and virtually every square inch of standing space was filled as well. The turnout seemed to indicate everyone in town wanted to know what was going on. Many of the new men who had been showing up in town were putting in an appearance at the town meeting as well, though they had all been relegated to the back of the church to make room for residents closer to the front.

“I need everyone to settle down please!” A hush began to fall as people realized the mayor was trying to speak. With this many people crammed into the church, the noise was tremendous. The mayor glanced over at Reverend Green and nodded.

The reverend then stepped up to the pulpit and raised his arms high in the air as he always did on Sunday morning to indicate he was about to begin the service. As he stood there, a collective stillness fell across the crowded room.

“Let us pray,” spoke the reverend. “Dearest Lord Above, we are gathered here tonight to take care of town business. Help us to go about this business in a godly manner, Lord, and to keep You at the forefront of our thoughts and actions. Please bless the proceedings here tonight, Lord, and may Your will be accomplished in the lives of each person here as well as in the lives of those we are blessed to come into contact with in the coming days. Amen.”

This was a much shorter prayer than Reverend Green’s usual. Sarah supposed it was because this was a town business meeting and not a church business meeting. Nonetheless, she was touched by the prayer. It was true that, while the town was seeing an influx of unsavory characters as a result of this ad, there could also be a lot of good decent men responding to the ad who were likely to have their hearts clean broke when they realized there weren’t any eligible females here in town for them. Some of these men could have spent every penny they had to come to Larkspur in the hopes of winning a wife, not to mention the hundreds of men who had apparently written letters in response to the ad.

The mayor stepped up to the pulpit again and called the meeting to order. He glanced down and shuffled some papers. When he lifted his eyes to the room, he gazed steadily at the people who had trusted him enough to elect him mayor of their town. “Everyone, we’ve got a problem on our hands. I could give you a nice song and dance about what is going on, but I don’t see the point. I’m going to shoot straight with you, tell you what I know and what I am doing about the problem. After that, I will entertain some discussion and will answer whatever questions I can, but if this meeting runs too long we will end it and pick up again tomorrow evening. We don’t want any families out too late tonight. Someone placed an ad in a newspaper. We don’t know how many papers this ad ran in. The ad reads:

Seeking Husband

Must be honest, faithful and true.

Must be a good Christian man.

Send inquiries to:

Eligible Female

Larkspur, Idaho Territory

This ad came to our attention this morning. There have been several unusual occurrences here recently. The town has been inundated with mail addressed to Eligible Female. In addition, we have had a lot of new people showing up in town – all men from what I can see – and not all respectable-looking types. I don’t want to encourage you to judge someone by their looks, but we do need to be aware of what is going on around us. We have always been a peaceful town, and we welcome all law-abiding citizens, male and female. Having our town overrun with people who may be involved in anything that is less than legal, though, cannot be abided. While I’m sure some decent folk will come because of this ad, there will also be some men who mean no good. If too many of those men show up and realize this ad was a hoax or that we don’t have a stable full of fillies looking to get married, we could have a serious problem on our hands.

“Precautions are being taken to protect the citizens of this town. All women living alone need to find someone with whom they can stay until things have blown over. In his possession, Reverend Green has a list of families who are willing to take you in for as long as needed. We believe we have found a place for every eligible female in town. There will be no public announcements with names or locations. Reverend Green has already spoken to most of you. If you are a single woman living in these parts and he has not already spoken to you, please seek him out as soon as we adjourn here, and he will see that your needs are addressed. He probably already has a home for you but simply hasn’t had a chance to speak to you yet.

“Sheriff Spooner is deputizing some local men to help with law enforcement. These men are volunteering their time as we do not presently have funds in the city coffers to pay for several new full-time employees. I am asking all people – both locals and those here from out of town – to respect the authority of all new deputies. Any person acting questionably in this town will be arrested. The sheriff will then review the situation and determine if the person should be held or released. We absolutely will not tolerate men accosting our female residents, married or unmarried. There has already been at least one incident of a female being stopped on the boardwalk and forced into the road. Who knows what would have happened if someone hadn’t stepped in to protect the young woman in question. Let me repeat, any behavior that is questionable or leads us to believe any of our citizens are being put at risk will result in an arrest.

“The mail that has been coming in will be sorted out by Miss Jenkins and her staff. If you are an eligible female in this town and wish to look through any of those letters with the intent of finding a potential husband, please see Miss Jenkins. You will only be allowed access to the letters if you are genuinely seeking a husband.”

That last stipulation was there at Sarah’s request. She hoped it would cut down on the number of women wanting to read through the letters for the purpose of gossiping and laughing about the poor men who had written them. Sarah knew how mean-spirited some people could be and did not want that kind of behavior infecting her stage office. Having skimmed some of the letters, she knew there would be plenty of fodder for gossip if they didn’t put some firm rules into place from the start.

“Men who have come into this town in response to the ad are asked to report to the mayor’s office beginning tomorrow. Volunteers at the mayor’s office will take down your information. A list of the eligible men who are seeking wives will be compiled. We will be arranging some town functions, such as a picnic after church, to help foster a godly atmosphere in which the men and women can get to know each other better. As a man visiting this town, you will not be allowed to participate in any such functions unless you have registered with the mayor’s office. As the ad states, any man whose suit is to be entertained by an eligible female of this town must be a good Christian man who demonstrates honesty, faithfulness, and integrity. If you are in this town to find a wife and behave in a manner contrary to the above requirements, your suit will not be accepted for any eligible female in this town.”

Sarah was certain Mayor Smith was stretching the law a bit with that last part. If God himself could not force the women of Larkspur to marry churchgoing men, then it wasn’t likely that the city officials could either. She understood the mayor’s intent, though. He wanted to do his best to protect both the women of his town as well as the integrity of the town itself.

Though she was listening attentively to the mayor, Sarah’s eyes had strayed to where Samuel sat some time ago and had rarely left his face. Her eyes twinkled as she caught the look of surprise that appeared on his face when the mayor made that last little announcement. It broke up the intensity that had held his features up to that point. Sarah decided Samuel was simply too fine-looking for a woman’s good. Whether it was strength or humor that marked his face, the power emanating from him was sure to capture more than a few female hearts in Larkspur.

When she realized she was no longer listening to the mayor at all, Sarah broke her gaze away from Samuel so she could better concentrate. She heard the mayor say, “That is all of the information I have for you at this time. I want to urge every citizen of Larkspur to be careful and cautious in the coming days. No woman should go anywhere unaccompanied. While I’m sure many of the men who have come into town have honorable intentions, there will be men who do not. Any woman who goes anywhere without an escort will be putting herself at risk. The sheriff and deputies will do everything they can to keep this town and our women safe, but they cannot be everywhere all the time, and you absolutely must avoid putting yourself into dangerous situations. Thank you for your time.”

Henry Johnson, father of three girls who were not yet quite marrying age, stood up and asked, “Mayor, do we know who placed this ad?”

The mayor shook his head. “Henry, we have no idea. I’m sorry. If we knew, the man responsible for this would be speaking with the law, believe you me.”

Sarah had expected bedlam to break out at the end of the meeting. The people of her town did her proud, though. They calmly began exiting the meeting. She could see with which families some of the women went. The families would escort them to their own homes first so the women could collect necessary belongings before taking them on to their new temporary homes. Families from some of the outlying farms had opened their doors to more than one woman and, in two cases, to single women who had children with them. Yes, Sarah truly was proud to see the people in her community showing Christ-like compassion and service to one another.

Chapter Four

Mayor Smith asked Samuel to escort Minnie, Sarah, and Mrs. Smith home after the town meeting. Town business was going to keep him tied up for some time, and the mayor did not want the women to have to wait. Upon arriving at the Smith’s home, Samuel walked through the entire house to make sure no intruders were present. He also made sure all of the windows and doors were locked up tight. The women all waited in the sitting room.

Upon completing his search, Samuel returned to the sitting room. “Everything looks clear, ladies. Please feel free to move about the house. I’ll stay here with you until the mayor gets home.” When he looked at them oddly, Sarah realized that the expressions on her companions’ faces matched the puzzlement she felt.

Minnie seemed nervous, so Sarah tried to reassure her. “Samuel has checked the house out. We are safe here. It’ll be okay.” Turning to Samuel, she said, “I’ve never seen anyone check a house so thoroughly before. It was like something out of a novel.”

Sarah’s words did not have the calming effect she had hoped for. Seemingly even more upset than she had already been, Minnie declared, “I need to lie down,” and left the room in a flurry of swishing skirts and scampering feet. This was not at all like Sarah’s friend, so Sarah followed her up the stairs to make sure Minnie wasn’t feeling ill. When she walked into Minnie’s room, Sarah was surprised to find her dear friend looking white as a sheet and crying.

“What’s wrong Minnie?”

“Oh Sarah, I’ve really gone and done it this time!”

Knowing Minnie’s penchant for doing the unexpected but unable to bear her friend’s distress, Sarah reassured her. “I’m sure everything will be okay. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad, now can it? It’ll be okay. You have wonderful parents who adore you. I am sure whatever it is, they will take it in stride.”

As Minnie’s crying only got louder and began to border on sobs, Sarah’s worry grew into dread. “Minnie, do you want to tell me about it?”

Minnie began to hiccup as her crying took its toll. She sat on the edge of the bed and gave Sarah her attention, sadness draped across her face. “I need to tell Mum and Dad something. I’ll wait for Dad to get home. They’re going to send me away to finishing school for sure this time.”

“For goodness sake, Minnie. You know you’re too old for finishing school. They stopped threatening you with finishing school months ago. Maybe they’ll marry you off instead.”

Sarah’s voice was full of humor as she tried to cheer her friend up. She thought it was a wonderful joke in light of the town’s recent influx of eligible men. Her joke did not go over well with Minnie, though, who began sobbing in earnest again.

As Sarah tried to explain how sorry she was for her ill-timed humor, Minnie spoke, “Go downstairs Sarah. I need a few moments alone. I’ll be down once Dad gets home. Don’t worry – I’m not mad at you. I made such a mess of things this time, and I need a little time before facing what I’ve done.”

Sarah went downstairs as requested, her heart still heavy for her friend. As she approached the bottom step, she paused to pray silently for Minnie. Lord, please ease the heart of my dearest friend. I do not know what she has done, but You do. Please give her the courage to tell her parents and to accept the consequences for her actions. Help me to be as good of a friend to her as she has always been to me. Amen.

“Is everything alright?” Samuel’s voice startled Sarah as she was about to take the last step into the foyer. She ended up missing the step altogether and began to fall as her foot found nothing to land on. Samuel plucked her faltering form up off of the stairs and set her gently down on the firm flooring of the foyer. “Sorry there, Miss Jenkins. I didn’t mean to spook you.”

Trying to regain her composure, Sarah let out a small chuckle. “Oh pish posh. If you call me Miss Jenkins, I shall have to call you Mr. Livingston.”

Samuel’s smile at her words warmed Sarah’s heart. She noticed the straight, white teeth and the dimple in his left cheek. Indeed, he had a most becoming smile. His hands still lingered on her waist from where he had rescued her from her would-be tumble. Sarah had never been this close to a man before, so close that, as she admired the sparkle in his eyes, she could also see the lines at their edges, telling her she stood before a man who smiled often. She had always imagined herself married someday to a man who was calm and patient and kind. Suddenly, though, she found herself wondering what it would be like to be married to a man with a charming sense of humor, someone who liked to laugh.

Marriage! Where had that thought come from? As Sarah fought the blush spawned by her thoughts, Mrs. Smith could be heard coming from the kitchen, likely with a service of tea in hand. Samuel released his hold on Sarah’s waist and stepped back as if he had been burned.

Sarah, so captivated by Samuel’s face, hadn’t even realized his hands were still on her until he’d removed them. Suddenly she longed for him to put his hands back. She felt off-kilter and a bit lost without his hands there to hold her steady. Her reaction to Samuel surprised her. Normally a common sense person who was not prone to flights of fancy, Sarah was confused by her response to Samuel’s touch, a response that was nothing but fanciful. Sarah shook her head as she tried to reign in the whimsy of her thoughts and bring herself back to reality. Clearly Samuel hadn’t meant to hold her that long, and their closeness was not having the same effect on him as on her. He had backed away so quickly… apparently he had no desire to touch her, even chastely.

Minnie remained above stairs, but Mrs. Smith, Samuel, and Sarah kept each other company in the sitting room while they enjoyed some hot tea. Mrs. Smith chatted lightly about the night’s meeting and the strangers in town. Addressing Sarah, she asked, “Exactly how many letters have you received for Eligible Female?”

“I have over four mail bags full of letters right now. That could easily be over a thousand letters. More are likely still on their way here as well. I am terribly surprised all of this mail came in one day. I would have expected some telltale letters to straggle in ahead of the bulk of them. The mail isn’t always predictable in its schedule, though.”

“However will you read all of those letters, dear? I am sure you have thought this all out. Please do tell me what your plan is.”

Sarah had often been made fun of as a child for being so methodical in the way she did things. She never failed to think through her actions. She was the product of having grown up with an inordinately calm and logical father. She inherited her father’s way of thinking, and it had never occurred to her to go about things differently. Mrs. Smith had once admitted to being fascinated by the way Sarah’s mind worked out problems.

“I glanced through some of the letters to get an idea what they are like. I decided to divide them into three categories: letters which are vulgar in some way, letters which are written by educated men, and letters which are written by men that appear uneducated. Then I will…”

“Wait a minute, Sarah,” interrupted Samuel. “Are you telling me you will discard a letter simply because the man does not have proper schooling? Lots of good, honest, Christian men who have wonderful work ethics and would make great husbands did not have the privilege of completing school. Tossing their letters aside hardly seems fair.”

Sarah was taken aback by the tone in Samuel’s voice. Evidently this was a sensitive subject and she had offended him. Sarah’s heart sank, and her stomach flipped. Why did his opinion matter so? Sarah rushed ahead, wanting to rectify his misunderstanding as quickly as possible.

“Of course not. That’s not at all what I meant. As Ida and I went through the list of eligible females in town, we saw two clear distinctions. One was education and one was age. We believed some of the women would only be interested in letters from educated men, and we did not want the letters from the other men to become a source of gossip or ridicule among those women. By the same token, we have some women who are not educated and who, we felt, would not at all be comfortable considering the suit of a college-educated man. Women won’t be forced to select from one group or the other. I want to try to protect and honor the intent of the men writing these letters. Some of them are quite lovely.”

Samuel’s face had a thoughtful look on it as he nodded in understanding. “I apologize if I sounded sharp. I see you have thought this through and that these letters, and the men who wrote them, are in the best possible hands.”

Mrs. Smith jumped in. “What do you mean by vulgar letters?” Motherly concern was written all over her face. Sarah felt her face heat with a blush. Sure that her cheeks were stained scarlet, she said, “Uh, well, some of the letters are not suitable for an unmarried woman, or any woman for that matter…”

“Excuse me,” Samuel interrupted again. “Are you telling me some of these men wrote letters of a nature that…” He could not think of a delicate way to say what he was thinking. “Are you sure it is proper for you to be reading these letters?”

Sarah shrugged and said, “We have to be practical. Someone has to read them, and I can’t allow the women of this town, some of whom are young and impressionable, to read through these letters willy-nilly. In addition to those letters, there are some that sound as though the writer may have a violent bent, and I am including those in the vulgar pile. I will not release those letters to the women of this town. Once I have sorted through them all, I will have to find someone else – perhaps Reverend Green – to take another look at them to make sure I didn’t judge someone too harshly.”

Samuel appeared to be ready to say something more but seemed to change his mind. When he did not speak, Sarah continued, “In any event, once I have the letters sorted into those three categories, I will take the letters from the educated men and the uneducated men and will do my best to divide them by age. Not every letter includes a man’s age, but I think I can get a fair idea. Some of the men are clearly quite young, and some are clearly older. In this way, I hope we can better help facilitate positive matches.” Sarah exaggerated her voice, hoping to lighten the mood. “It would not do if 16-year-old Drucilla falls in love with an 82-year-old man via the post.”

When Samuel and Mrs. Smith both tried to hide smiles of amusement, Sarah held her hands out, palms up, as if in appeal, and added, “It’s not a perfect plan, but it’s the best I could come up with. I am open to suggestions if anyone has a better idea.”

Right at that moment, the mayor arrived home. He greeted his wife with a kiss to her cheek. Mrs. Smith stood to prepare a cup of tea for him. As she came back into the room with his tea, Minnie came down the stairs. To Sarah’s eye, Minnie appeared plumb ready to faint. Sarah was torn, wanting to go to her friend but not wanting to draw undue attention to her. Minnie seemed quite distressed, and Sarah watched her closely. The two made eye contact, and Sarah understood Minnie’s silent signal in the kind of way only a lifelong friend could understand. Sarah remained seated and sent up a silent prayer for her friend. Minnie had something she had to get off her chest, and it might get her in a bushel of trouble.

“Mum and Dad, I have something I need to tell you.” Minnie’s voice was soft, lacking its usual vibrant ring.

“Of course, Minnie. What is it?” spoke Mrs. Smith kindly, her face open and welcoming. Minnie’s father watched her with love, but his face told the story of a life lived as Minnie’s father. The mayor’s expression shared the tale of many such times when his unpredictable daughter had come to him with news of her exploits. Love for his daughter battled with expectant dread for command of his features.

“Everything is my fault.”

Mayor Smith was the first to speak. “What do you mean by that Minnie? What is your fault?”

“The mess in town, all the men. I placed the ad.”

Sarah heard Samuel’s sudden intake of breath. How could she have forgotten he was there? If he spread this news around town, Sarah knew her dear friend would suffer greatly for it.

Mayor Smith placed his teacup in its saucer and set it down. Much to his credit, he kept his seat and did not immediately jump up as Sarah was sure he must have wanted to do. “Minnie, why would you do such a thing?” The mayor’s voice was tight with strain.

Minnie started crying as she tried to explain. Her words came out between gasps and sobs. “I never thought of the unsavory element that would come to town. I only wanted to take care of Sarah. She’s worked so hard, and I know she enjoys her job, but she deserves to have a husband and children of her own, and there aren’t any eligible men in town that have taken her fancy. I only thought there would be a couple of letters, and they would all go to Sarah because she handles the mail. I figured when the letters came, she would tell me about it, and I would persuade her to read them and reply to one of the gentlemen. I meant only good by it, honest! I didn’t realize so many men would reply, or that men would begin coming directly to town without writing first, or that bad men would read the ad. The whole town and every woman in it, is in danger, and it’s my fault!’

Sarah’s mouth had long ago dropped open. When Minnie stopped speaking to gasp for breath, Sarah realized how unladylike she must look and closed her mouth, bemused. Mrs. Smith seemed as though she were about to have a fit of vapors. Samuel stood there, having given up his seat for Minnie when he saw her coming down the stairs. His expression was inscrutable, and Sarah wished she knew what he was thinking.

Mayor Smith was again the first to gather his senses enough to speak. He stood up, walked over to his daughter, and wrapped her in his arms.

“Minnie, you must learn to think through your actions beforehand. I hope this will be a lifelong lesson learned here today.” Setting her away from him, he peered kindly into her eyes and spoke softly to her. “Please go upstairs and ready yourself for bed. I will be up to speak with you in a bit. I need you to wait up for me.”

As Minnie shifted to go upstairs, Mrs. Smith stood and trailed behind. Sarah swung her gaze back and forth between Samuel and Mayor Smith, not sure if she should go or stay. She eyed Minnie’s father questioningly.

The mayor appeared to have aged ten years since coming in the door a few moments before. All of the events of the day had not shown on his face the way Minnie’s confession did. Sarah’s heart went out to him as he stood there, haggard. Moving his eyes back and forth between Samuel and Sarah, the mayor seemed to struggle for words before speaking at last. “Please, both of you, take a seat. I need to speak with you.”

Samuel sat on the divan next to her while Sarah kept her seat. Both faced Mayor Smith as he again picked up his tea and took a sip. Sarah’s heart ached for Minnie. She hoped the mayor would not be sending her friend away.

“Sarah, Samuel, thank you for staying so that I could speak with you.”

He was using his formal mayoral voice, and Sarah realized the mayor didn’t want them to know how upset he was.

“I wish Minnie’s admission had come in private. Since you both heard it, though, I need to ask you for secrecy. As mayor, I can speak to the sheriff and tell him the perpetrator came to me and confessed, and that it was an innocent mistake. The sheriff will trust my judgment. No one need know it was Minnie. If word gets out she caused this, I am afraid I may not be able to keep my wife and daughter safe in Larkspur. Tonight’s meeting went well, but if the visitors in town begin to cause problems for the townspeople, some will seek vengeance.”

Samuel quietly questioned, “If it had not been your daughter but someone else who came to you with such a confession, how would you have handled it?”

Mayor Smith nodded thoughtfully and answered, “I believe I would have handled it exactly the same, as long as I could say the character and intent of the perpetrator were honorable. If I felt someone had malicious intent by placing the ad, then I would do whatever needed to be done to bring that person to justice.” The mayor nodded as though settling the question in his own mind. “Yes, I do believe I would have handled it the same, even if it had been someone other than Minnie.”

Sarah spoke up, “Mayor, if people know you know who placed the ad and you refuse to give them a name, you may never get re-elected here in Larkspur. Your career could be on the line.”

This man, who Sarah had known for years, met her gaze with a tired but peaceful smile. “Sarah, dear, I will do what is right without bending to public demand. That has served me well in office thus far, and I believe it will continue to do so. If I lose my position as mayor, then I will go back to being an attorney and provide for my family in that way. I may answer to the people of Larkspur as mayor, but I have to answer to God as a man, and I need to do what is right in God’s eyes, even if there is risk involved.”

Sarah hurt for the man she had grown to love over the years. She had seen Mayor Smith handle her spirited friend’s sometimes peculiar actions, always with love and grace. While some parents might have lost their temper and yelled at Minnie until her spirit had broken, the mayor and his wife always treated her with tender love, trying to guide her high-spirited nature in the way of the Lord.

Sarah believed what the mayor had said was right. This incident would likely change Minnie forever, causing her to give more careful thought to her actions in the future. Sarah hoped this would be a good thing and that, as Minnie learned from this, she would not lose the impulsive and sometimes impetuous nature so uniquely her own.

“You have my word, Mayor. I won’t say anything. I trust your judgment on the matter. May I go up to check on Minnie?” When the mayor nodded, Sarah rose and left the room. As she climbed the stairs she felt the oddest tingling sensation down her left side. With a shake of her head, she tried to dismiss it. Surely this could not be because she had been sitting so close to Samuel.

****

“Sir, I admire your commitment to your daughter,” spoke Samuel softly. Mayor Smith simply watched him, apparently waiting for whatever else the young man had to say. Samuel had the feeling that more than his words was being gauged by the mayor. “I do not know you well enough to know whether or not I can take you at your word. You seem to be highly thought of, though, and so I will trust you. If you say you would have handled this situation the same, even if it had not been your daughter, then that’s good enough for me. I won’t say anything to anyone. You have my word.”

Mayor Smith visibly relaxed upon hearing Samuel’s statement. He sat back in his chair and said casually, almost too casually, “So what business brings you to Larkspur?”

“I was in the area on business and stopped by to visit my cousin, Ida, and her husband, John.”

“Ah, I see. Are you going to tell me what the business is that brought you into the area, or will you tell me to drop the subject?”

“Are you asking as the mayor or a kindly neighbor?”

A twinkle entered into the mayor’s eyes, “Ah, well, son, I am asking as an adult who cares greatly for one Miss Sarah Jenkins. I think you may have intentions toward her and want to know whether I should allow you some leeway or run you out of town.”

The men talked a bit longer before Samuel left to return to John and Ida’s house for the night. He chuckled to himself as he walked down the moonlit boardwalk. There may have been a lot to deal with that day, but the mayor was still plenty full of spit and vinegar. Samuel had, of course, dodged the question when asked about his intentions toward Sarah. Mayor Smith would have none of it, though. His eyes saw something between Samuel and Sarah that Samuel hadn’t even admitted to himself yet. Samuel was attracted to Miss Sarah Jenkins, no doubt about it.

Chapter Five

Sarah and Minnie had both readied for bed by the time the mayor came up to speak with his daughter. Sarah wasn’t sure if she should stay or go, but this time it was Minnie who told her to remain, saying, “I shouldn’t have kept secrets from you to begin with.”

Minnie was seated on the edge of her bed, and Sarah was a few feet away over on the window seat. Mayor Smith sat down next to his daughter on the edge of her bed and took her hands in his.

“Wilhelmina Abigail Smith, whatever am I to do with you?”

The softness in his voice was Minnie’s undoing. She launched herself into her father’s arms and cried, “I’m so sorry Daddy. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Sarah, by herself on the window seat, choked back sobs of her own. How desperately she missed her father! He had always been such a stalwart part of her life, much like Minnie’s father. He’d been calm and gentle and rarely ever raised his voice. Of course, Sarah had not given her papa the fits Minnie gave hers, but still, Sarah could not remember one time in her life when her father had yelled at her or had raised a hand to her. He’d spoken firmly when needed, but Sarah would have done anything her father had asked of her. She had always wanted to please him for as long as she could remember. It had never occurred to her to do anything contrary to her father’s wishes.

Can you tell me, God, why I am so different from Minnie? Sarah had always thought her desire to please her father had been scriptural obedience. Something about that had always nagged at the back of her mind, though, like a puzzle that needed closer examination. Sarah watched the stars as Minnie and the mayor spoke. Sitting there and watching the wonder of God’s creation, she began to understand why she had never seriously examined her motives for obedience. She had avoided taking a closer look because she wasn’t sure she would like what she might discover about herself. As the conversation behind her continued, Sarah’s eyes were fixed on the stars, but it was inward that she was truly looking. She studied her heart with God’s guidance and realized part of the reason she had always been so compliant with her father was because she’d been afraid of losing him. Having lost her mother at a young age, she had never wanted to do anything to anger her father for fear she would also lose him.

This was a blinding revelation to Sarah. Her mother had died when she was but six years old. For the next twelve years, it had been she and her father. Two peas in a pod, her Papa used to say. He had never remarried, and she’d never had a beau. Thankfully, he’d been a wonderful father who had loved the Lord. Sarah shuddered to think what would have happened to her if her father had been a brute of a man who could never be pleased. What would have happened to her tender and broken spirit then? Sarah’s father had filled up so much of her life that she had rarely stopped to think about the emptiness left by her mother’s death.

Sarah had to admit her father had never given her cause to believe he would ever leave or turn his back on her. Something in her six-year-old mind must have decided she needed to be good or she would lose him too. Unraveling the tangle of memory and emotion buried within her mind seemed too much at present, but Sarah recognized enough of it to know much of her obedience had been from fear rather than love. She realized she had been carrying on this philosophy even after her father’s death. She lived her life in a way that was rather staid and boring. Was it fear that had shaped her? Fear of God abandoning her if He grew displeased? Had she misunderstood and thought obedience to God meant being dull and quiet and never experiencing or giving in to the stronger emotions of life?

Sarah was certain neither her earthly father nor her heavenly father would have ever wanted her to live like that, haunted and shaped by fear rather than love. Not that rebellion was a good thing. Sarah did, however, wonder if she had missed out on some of the joys of life by being so predictable all the time. Perhaps if she had grown up with two parents and without the firsthand knowledge of such a painful loss, perhaps then she would have been more rebellious, more inventive, more adventurous… more secure.

“Is everything alright?” The mayor’s voice broke into Sarah’s thoughts. She saw that he and Minnie had finished talking and that he was looking at her expectantly.

“Yes, sir. I was only contemplating some of the differences between myself and Minnie and wondering about them.”

The mayor chuckled at her statement. “Well, my dear, someday when this present situation is behind us, come and talk to me about that, will you? Your father and I discussed that topic on more than one occasion, and I would be happy to share his thoughts with you.”

“Papa talked about those things?” Sarah wasn’t sure what to think.

“Ah, Sarah,” the mayor said fondly. “Your papa and I had many talks about the wonder of raising daughters. I don’t know why I’ve never thought to share those talks with you before. He was a single man raising his only child, a daughter. And there I was with a houseful of women. There wasn’t much I hadn’t seen or heard. I’d always known and respected your father, but after your mother died, he and I became friends. We found we had a lot in common, not the least of which was daughters.”

The mayor’s eyes took in two young women before him. He gave them both an affectionate smile as he slowly spun toward the room’s exit. “You both get some good sleep tonight. Tomorrow is likely to be a busy day.” The door gave a soft pthunk as the mayor closed it behind him.

With that, the mayor was gone. Sarah was full of questions. She wanted to know about the conversations with her father. She wanted to know what first prompted the two men to become friends. She wanted her father back for one more day so she could hug him fiercely and never let go.

“Are you alright, Sarah?” Minnie asked.

Sarah nodded. “I miss Papa right now is all. I’ll be okay.”

“We are both blessed, you know, to have had two such wonderful fathers. I can’t imagine losing mine. You have always been so brave.”

Sarah swung her gaze to Minnie. “We need to talk about why you placed the ad, but I’m too tired right now. Can we save it for another day?”

Minnie’s relief jumped across the room and wrapped Sarah in a hug, it was so palpable. “It can definitely wait!” Minnie’s smile stretched wide enough to bring out her dimples. Sarah wanted to know why Minnie believed placing an ad was the only way to find her a husband. Not yet prepared for that conversation or what it would reveal, though, she opted for postponement. In light of her minutes-ago revelation, Sarah needed to take some time to figure out who she wanted to be. Once she had a grasp on that, asking Minnie about the reasons behind the ad would not seem so daunting.

The girls extinguished the lantern and climbed quietly into bed. As Sarah drifted off to sleep, she found herself wondering what Samuel would think of her revelation. She wondered if he found her boring and if he liked the adventurous type more.

****

Morning came bright and early for Sarah. She wanted to get to the stage office early so she could get a head start on the mail. Discouragement and a bit of apathy fought for attention as she wondered if her sorting all those letters would even matter. With so many eligible men showing up in town, perhaps none of the women would even be interested in the letters. There was no help for it, though. Something had to be done about all those letters, and the job fell to her. Not normally prone to romantic notions, Sarah couldn’t help but wonder about some of the eligible females in town and the sort of men they might possibly meet through this advertisement Minnie had placed.

As Sarah came down the stairs, she heard voices coming from the parlor. Her heart fluttered erratically in her chest as she recognized one of the voices to be Samuel’s. She was hungry for breakfast but too keen to see what had brought him to the mayor’s house so early in the morning, so she opted for the parlor rather than the kitchen. A smile on her face, she stepped off the final stair and pivoted toward the parlor.

“Ah, my dear, there you are,” said Mrs. Smith. “William asked Samuel to escort you to the stage office this morning and to remain with you until the Martinez boys arrive for the day. He would have escorted you himself, but he was certain he’d be tied up with mayoral business from dusk ‘til dawn over the coming days.”

Mrs. Smith’s cheeks were rosier than usual. Sarah almost asked if the woman was feverish but decided perhaps that wasn’t the sort of question one asked in mixed company. If Samuel hadn’t been present, she wouldn’t have hesitated to ask after Mrs. Smith’s health. Seeing no help for it, Sarah collected her shawl and handbag and headed toward the front door. Worrying her lower lip between her teeth, she stepped through the door as Samuel held it open for her. She moved slowly as they walked down the front steps and headed toward the street.

****

Samuel was about to ask her how she was doing when Sarah blurted, “I’ll be right back.” She then dashed back up the steps and through the front door.

In awe of how quickly she moved with a dress on, Samuel was still deciding whether to follow Sarah and see if something was wrong when she came darting back out the front door and joined him on the walkway again, acting as if nothing was amiss.

“Is everything okay?” he asked congenially.

“Yes, yes, everything is fine. I needed to ask Mrs. Smith something.”

Seeing he was going to get no additional information from his companion, Samuel’s lips curved upward with curiously good humor as he wondered about the puzzle that was Miss Sarah Jenkins. “So tell me, Sarah, how are you this fine morning?”

“Fine, fine. A bit flustered, but fine.”

“Flustered, huh? I don’t hear that word often. What has you flustered?” A soft blush touched Sarah’s cheeks, and Samuel found himself wondering if perchance Sarah was not used to being the center of attention. It was quite a shame. How could such a lovely young woman go about life without getting fawned over on occasion? Samuel could see only one remedy to the problem. He would simply have to shower her with attention. He was, after all, a man willing to make sacrifices for the greater good.

“I am used to my morning routine, and waking up somewhere different this morning disrupted my routine in more ways than one.”

“Would you say, then,” asked Samuel, “you are a woman of habit?”

“That’s a rather personal question, I believe,” Sarah answered with a smile in her voice. “Is being a woman of habit a bad thing?”

Samuel laughed at her question, enjoying the banter that seemed to become easier for her with each step they took. “Depends. What kind of habit are we talking about? For example, are you used to starting each day with a brandy and a cigar?”

“Mr. Livingston! I dare say, such a habit would indeed be a bad thing.” Sarah reacted with indignation, exactly as Samuel had intended. “What sorts of habits are bad for men, then? Do you make a habit of starting each day by poking fun at the local women?”

Samuel did not have to look down at Sarah to see the humor on her face; he could plainly hear it in her voice. My, my, but he was enjoying the company of this woman. She was intelligent, showed potential for great humor and could hold her own in a conversation. He was thoroughly charmed by her.

As they arrived at the stage office, Samuel took the key from Sarah in order to unlock and open the door for her. He picked up their conversation, asking, “So what sorts of habits got disrupted this morning?”

“Well, breakfast for one,” Sarah answered dryly. Samuel found her tone amusing. “Not only did I miss breakfast, though, oh no. That would be too easy. I also forgot to pack my lunch. This is going to be a long day. I shall start the stove and make some coffee.” With that, Sarah pulled her apron off of the hook and got to work.

Samuel took the Closed sign out of the door as he spoke. “Let me get the stove started for you. Why don’t you get yourself organized with all of this mail, and I will help you begin to go through it. Did the mayor speak to you about that?”

Nodding smartly, Sarah answered, “He gave me a list of who was approved by the council to help sort through all this mail. You were on the list.” Then, pointing to the back supply room, she added, “I will start the stove. You go get three crates for me from the supply room. Line them up against the back wall behind the counter. Then haul one of the bags of mail over next to the crates and see if you can find us some chairs back there as well.”

Samuel nodded and went to work, enjoying Sarah’s take-charge attitude but also noticing how she relegated all of the heavy lifting to him. He couldn’t help but tease Sarah as he headed to the supply room. “I don’t like being able to see through my coffee. Just remember that!”

****

Sarah huffed as she got the fire started. A short while later she was distracted by the sight of Samuel walking in, carrying all three crates at once. She was so preoccupied, in fact, she failed to count how many scoops of grounds she put into the coffeepot. Realizing her mistake, she rolled her eyes and hoped for the best.

As the coffee was starting to percolate, Sarah and Samuel settled into their chairs and began to pull letters out of the mailbag and put them into neat piles. Sarah instructed Samuel, “Right now we are simply dividing the letters into three categories. The first crate is for vulgar letters. This second crate here is for uneducated letters, and the last one is for educated letters. If you read one and aren’t sure, put it aside, and I will take a look at it.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be, but I’m still shocked we need a crate for vulgar letters,” spoke Samuel. “Surely no man hoping to catch the eye of a bride would knowingly be vulgar in his letter.”

Sarah shrugged and replied, “I don’t suppose all of these men truly want a wife. I have decided some people find satisfaction in shocking and upsetting others. That is why men write vulgar letters and why they accost women passing on the boardwalk, I imagine.”

Samuel agreed, “Add alcohol to the mix, and you have another whole group of men who will write, say, and do things which reflect an inner character they wouldn’t normally demonstrate publicly.”

Sarah nodded absently as she read the letter in her hands. She burst out into laughter at something the writer had said. She felt Samuel’s eyes on her and peeked up in time to see his raised eyebrow. In answer to his implied question, she said, “He is a funny, funny man. I hope he finds someone who will appreciate that.” She then tucked the letter back into its envelope and placed it in the middle crate.

“Uneducated?” Samuel questioned.

“Yes,” Sarah answered. “Don’t let that fool you, though. Lack of formal education does not mean a person isn’t smart or charming or funny or capable of providing for a wife and children. I believe you pointed that out last evening.”

Samuel continued looking at Sarah as if in expectation. When she said nothing more, he finally asked, “Do I get to read the letter?”

Sarah giggled. “Not a chance! You will find plenty of gems of your own.” Smiling, she quickly whipped out another letter and stuck her nose into it.

The two sat in companionable silence for another several minutes, quickly reading through letter after letter. Not many letters were making it into the vulgar crate; however, content in a few of the letters shocked Sarah. She assumed that Samuel was equally taken aback by some of the subjects covered by the writers.

****

“Sarah, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” Sarah replied.

“The vulgar letters don’t seem to bother you much. Can I ask why?”

“Bother me in what way?” she asked.

“I don’t know exactly. Either they don’t get to you, or you don’t show it. I’m genuinely curious. I’ve been deeply offended on the behalf of every eligible female in the town several times already by some of the letters I’ve read.”

Samuel didn’t even know what kind of answer he hoped to get from Sarah or why it mattered to him, but he knew her answer to this question was important.

“Well, for starters, I say a little prayer before each letter, asking God to give me wisdom. That definitely helps. Then, when I come across a letter that has something vulgar in it, I immediately put it back in its envelope and into the correct crate. I don’t even bother reading the rest of the letter. So that way, if a single letter has ten offensive things in it, I’ve only let myself get exposed to one of those things. It’s easier to get over one offense than it is to get over ten.” Sarah shrugged delicately, an unspoken question on her face.

Samuel smiled at Sarah and said, “I am impressed by the thought you’ve put into all this. I have a compulsion to always finish what I start. It never would have occurred to me to stop reading a letter partway through. I think I’ll do it your way from now on.”

“Reverend Green is going to read through all of the letters that end up in the first crate to make sure we haven’t made any mistakes. So if I do judge someone too harshly on the first read through, I trust him to prayerfully catch such mistakes when he reviews the letters. I believe if God wants one of these men to meet one of the eligible ladies of our town, then He will see to it, even if I accidentally put a letter in the wrong crate. As long as I do my best to make sure I put the letters where they ought to be, I believe God will honor my effort even if I make mistakes, precisely as He will honor yours. When I know I am giving it my best effort, I don’t let myself feel too guilty about mistakes. It would be different if I was being careless or not truly trying to do a good job.”

****

Right then Claudio and Cesar came through the door. Both boys chimed a “Good morning!” in Sarah’s direction as they headed straight for the coffee on the stove. Sarah saw their intent and inwardly cringed. Not only was she not sure about how many scoops of grounds she’d put in, but the coffee had been percolating much longer than normal because she got distracted with the letters.

Samuel had his back to the stove and did not see the boys as they each poured a cup of coffee. Sarah was about to warn them as Claudio, the middle boy at age 16, took a big swig of the hot brew while Cesar, the youngest, opted to blow on his first. Claudio’s eyes grew wide as he swallowed. “Miss Sarah, I do believe that’s the best coffee you’ve ever made. That’s the kind of coffee vaqueros drink!”

Samuel visibly perked up at the mention of coffee. Sarah was sure he couldn’t know a vaquero was a Mexican cowboy and that they drink their camp coffee strong. If he understood what the boys were saying, he definitely wouldn’t be in a hurry to get a cup of his own. Cesar finally took a drink of his coffee. Sarah could see him trying not to make a face as he swallowed the brew. “Vaquero coffee for sure, Miss Sarah. Papa would be proud.”

Sarah had barely started to warn, “Uh, Samuel…” when he took a big gulp of the coffee Claudio had poured for him. She watched the shock on his face as he first paled and then grew red. His eyes flew wide as he tried desperately to swallow the coffee. He finally ran out the front door and spit the coffee out over the edge of the stage platform.

The boys could not contain their howling laughter as Samuel walked back into the stage office, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That has got to be the vilest coffee I have ever had in my life. I know I said I didn’t want to see through it, but that didn’t mean I wanted it so strong it would eat clear through a tin cup!” Embarrassment coiled so quickly through her that it took a bit before Samuel’s teasing tone as he spoke to the boys registered with her. “Is life always such an adventure around here?”

Claudio was the first to answer, “Miss Sarah, she gets distracted sometimes by her job. Anything on the stove is at risk. The coffee is never the same two days in a row.”

Then, in a stage whisper, Cesar spoke, “That’s why we dump the coffee and make fresh when Miss Sarah isn’t looking.”

Sarah was used to the boys’ banter but did not generally participate in it. Determined to turn over a new more lighthearted leaf, she declared, “Oh boys! It’s not as bad as all that.” When Claudio and Cesar only raised their eyebrows and stared at her, she laughed, “Okay, I can’t lie. It is that bad, but still, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Hey!” said Claudio, “I was on your side! I said it was good vaquero coffee, didn’t I? The kind of coffee that keeps you up all night and makes your dog howl for days. It’s these jokers,” he said as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at Cesar and Samuel, “who are raising such a fuss.” To prove his point, Claudio tipped back his cup and drained the rest of his coffee with gusto.

Chapter Six

Samuel left Sarah in the capable company of Claudio and Cesar. He needed to go collect Ida and escort her back to the stage office so she, too, could help sort through the mail. As he walked along the boardwalk, Samuel noticed several of the men staring at him oddly. He suddenly realized he was whistling. His whistling stopped abruptly as he realized how much attention he was attracting. What could he say? Sarah made him happy, and being happy made him whistle.

Tipping his hat to all of the gentlemen who were staring at him, Samuel said jauntily, “Good day, gentlemen.” As their looks continued to follow him, Samuel picked up the pace and rounded the next corner before he got himself into too much trouble.

Arriving back at John and Ida’s house a few minutes later, he knocked twice, and Ida let him in. John had thought it prudent to set up a code so Ida wouldn’t end up opening the door to just any man walking by.

“Well, Samuel, I do say, that’s quite a smile on your face. What has you grinning so?”

Samuel let his eyes wander around the small home Ida shared with John. Every inch of their house reflected the loving care of both Ida and John, from the crocheted doilies on the tables, made through Ida’s talent and hard work, to the tables themselves, a labor of love for John. Samuel grinned at his cousin and drawled, “Well, Ida, it’s like this. Rumor has it there is one amazing eligible female in the town of Larkspur, and I aim to get her for myself.”

“Samuel Livingston! I do hope you aren’t speaking to the ladies like that. You’ll scare all of the eligible ones away, except maybe for Mrs. Wilkinson.”

“Mrs. Wilkinson? You sure she’s eligible?”

Picking up the lunch basket, Samuel decided she must have packed enough food for an entire band of coffee drinking vaqueros. They stepped through the front door out into the sunlight, and Samuel held his arm out for Ida.

As she tucked her hand into his elbow, she beamed impishly at him and said, “Mrs. Wilkinson is a widow. She’ll be 88 years old next month and can’t hear a word anyone says to her.” Samuel hooted in laughter. He had missed Ida and her humor. Contentment settled all the way down into Samuel’s bones as he thought about settling in Larkspur.

“You’re awfully cheeky. Does your husband know you talk to people like this?”

“How do you think I snagged him?” Then, changing the subject, Ida asked, “So tell me, Samuel, how is your business in town going?”

“I know what I want,” Samuel began. “And the mayor knows what I want, but I’ve been asked to put everything on hold until this eligible female business is sorted out, and the town has returned back to a more normal pace of life without so many ruffians around.”

“I see,” said Ida. “Is that going to be a problem for you? Will that make you want to go elsewhere? Surely you want a town that will be more excited about what you wish to do.”

Samuel could hear the hesitation in Ida’s voice and pondered how to answer her. She continued, “We would love to have you settle here, but I understand if you decide you need to go elsewhere.”

“Now Ida, I never said anything about going elsewhere,” spoke Samuel. “I have moved a lot and done business in a lot of different towns. It has always gone well, and I’ve not yet run into any major trouble. A battle here and there with a city council or with outlaws and jealous businessmen, but it’s always come pretty easy to me, including the part where I move on to the next town. I’ve never felt like I needed to stay anywhere, and so a town’s issues never much bothered me, you know? If I wasn’t going to stick around, why get involved, right?”

Samuel glanced down at Ida to make sure she understood what he was saying. She was watching her step, but he could tell by her expression she was following his line of thought and waiting for him to continue.

“I like Larkspur,” he went on. “I would like to live near family again, and I’ve been impressed with the townsfolk I’ve met. Lots of people would have mobbed after last night’s town meeting, but not the folks of Larkspur. A lot of towns wouldn’t have given a second thought to the safety of women living alone, but not here in Larkspur – people care here.”

After helping Ida off of the boardwalk and down onto the street as they approached the stage office, Samuel continued, “I have to respect a city government that will put the safety of its citizens above making money. It’s not that they’re close-minded and told me to take a hike. The mayor likes the idea and wants to talk more. Everyone needs to focus on the present situation first is all. That’s a whole lot better than a town which either won’t do business at all or will throw its own citizens to the wolves in order to make a profit. I’m a patient man, and I don’t mind waiting. I have a feeling the payoff will be well worth it.”

“What payoff?”

Samuel’s eyes widened as his gaze shot up to find the source of the voice. He hadn’t realized Sarah was out on the stage platform. By the look on her face, it was clear she’d overheard exactly enough of his conversation with Ida to be suspicious, and rightly so given the recent business in town.

Before Samuel could defend himself, Ida spoke up, “Sarah, how are you this morning? I brought a basket for lunch later. I don’t know about you, but I plan on working up an appetite this morning!”

Sarah swiveled her look from Samuel’s guarded expression to Ida’s dimpled smile. Suspicion in her voice, she called Claudio over, “Take the basket and go put it in the supply room where it will stay cool. Ida, can I get you a cup of coffee?” She glared at Samuel when he made a sound that could have either been choking or laughing.

“I will get myself some coffee, thank you. Let me go get situated. I’m sure the boys can tell me what I need to know about the letters.” Ida quickly fled the tension.

As she headed to the door, Ida artfully turned to Samuel and mouthed the words, “I’m sorry,” while staying out of Sarah’s line of sight. He winked precisely as he’d done when they were kids and trying to silently communicate with each other. Ida nodded and went indoors. Samuel didn’t feel the least bit abandoned by his cousin. It was better for her to go inside than to remain on the platform. He loved his cousin, but he also knew her well. She knew more about his business than most, and she never handled confrontation well. If she remained outdoors with him and Sarah, it would only be seconds before she began babbling and blurting out all kinds of information in a misplaced effort to ease the tension.

Samuel put his hands in his pockets and began whistling, looking everywhere but at Sarah.

“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Sarah asked. Her voice was harsher than Samuel had heard it before. She didn’t sound cruel exactly, but something was definitely off. He almost thought he heard fear in her voice.

“How much would it upset you if I said I could not tell you quite yet?”

“So you are not going to tell me then?” Sarah’s voice rose in pitch as the conversation continued.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t tell you, but the truth is, I am in town on business, and that business is confidential at the moment.”

“What was the talk about a big payoff? That sounds shady.”

Samuel was glad he hadn’t come right out and answered when she first asked. It helped him to understand how much she had heard and what part of their conversation bothered her. “I assure you, Sarah, there is nothing shady going on. Ida asked me about whether or not the goings on in town over this whole eligible female problem will cause me to want to go elsewhere to complete my transaction.”

“And will it?” Sarah’s eyes drew Samuel in like a bee to honey. He wanted to reach out and run his hand down the side of her face, cup her chin, kiss her. Her eyes were luminous. Luminous and worried. Samuel wanted to put her worry to rest.

“I don’t think so. I was explaining to Ida that I like the way the town has been handling things, and I see a lot of good here in Larkspur. My plans are on the back burner for now, which means I will have to wait a while, but I do think it will all be worth it in the end.”

Sarah stared into Samuel’s eyes. Samuel began to understand the plight of the insect being viewed through the microscope. He wanted Sarah to believe him. With so much going on in town right now, though, he couldn’t blame her for being suspicious.

Nodding to Samuel, she went back to her sweeping and said over her shoulder, “Thank you for explaining. The coffee inside is good. Claudio made it. You should get some before it runs out. I’m making the next pot.” Sparkling laughter danced in her eyes when she mentioned the coffee.

Samuel ran for the door, not sure which had him in a greater hurry – the need to get some good coffee or the need to escape the temptation that stood there sweeping the stage platform. He rushed into the office so quickly he startled everyone inside, causing them all to look up at him expectantly.

“Coffee,” was all Samuel could blurt out. Then, as he hung his hat up on the hat tree and took a deep breath, he went on, “Sarah said Claudio made this coffee and she’s making the next pot.”

Ida and the boys all burst into laughter, “No way, Señor Livingston!” chimed Cesar. “We have a system. We don’t let her anywhere near the pot when it’s getting empty.”

Samuel realized Cesar was being serious and silently wondered how bad it could possibly be. Was he actually this fascinated by a woman who couldn’t make coffee? If she couldn’t make coffee, did that mean she also couldn’t cook? How would her husband and children eat? He shook his head as he realized he saw himself in the role of Sarah’s husband, and that he honestly did not care if she couldn’t cook worth a lick. There were all kinds of ways around that problem, ways that wouldn’t even hurt her feelings.

Sarah came in the door as Samuel was relishing his delicious cup of coffee. She briefly paused by the coffeepot and said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “I think I’ll finish off the coffee and start a new pot. Let me put this broom up first.”

Faster than Samuel could take his next sip of coffee, Cesar and Claudio were at the stove. As Sarah stepped back out of the supply room after storing the broom, Cesar met her with a fresh cup of coffee. He even somehow managed to get cream and sugar into it. Meanwhile, Claudio had dumped the old grounds, put new grounds in, and set the pot – complete with water – on the stove to boil.

Samuel’s head was still swimming as Cesar said cheerily, “Here you go boss, a cup of coffee for you. Now sit down here and read letters. You should rest after doing all that sweeping.”

Sarah accepted the cup of coffee and graciously said, “Thank you, Cesar. You didn’t have to do that. I could have gotten my own coffee.”

As she sat down by the crates and set her cup of coffee within arm’s reach, Sarah peeked at where Samuel stood by the stove. Unable to hide her merriment, she asked, “Is everything alright Samuel? You look bewildered.”

There was clearly a loving camaraderie between Sarah and the boys. Samuel figured it had taken many horribly bad pots of coffee before the boys perfected the art of making sure Sarah never got near the coffeepot. Without saying a word, he walked on over to where everyone else was seated and grabbed himself a stack of letters and went to work reading them.

****

A pattern developed over the following days. Samuel picked Sarah up from the mayor’s house each morning and escorted her to work. Once the Martinez boys arrived, usually Cesar and Claudio, he would go collect Ida and bring her to the office as well. The five of them would read through letters for hours at a time, sorting them into the correct crates. Not having properly anticipated the scope of the job, everyone grew weary as, on each new stage, bag after bag of mail arrived addressed to Eligible Female.

Sarah worried a disservice was being done both to the men who had written letters and to the single women in town. She felt she would never get the letters sorted in time for them to be of any use to anybody here locally and often questioned what good any of them were doing by spending their time going through these letters. She kept at it, though, and made sure everybody else did too.

Reverend Green had already reviewed and burned two crates of letters deemed vulgar. Out of those two crates, there were only two letters he pulled out and gave back to Sarah, saying he felt they deserved another chance. Sarah took that to mean they were all doing a good job and weren’t judging the writers too harshly.

Meanwhile, all of the men who had shown up in town looking for a wife were directed to the mayor’s office where they had to register. More new men showed up in town daily. The locals, it seemed, would soon be outnumbered. Because there were fewer men than there were letters, the process was going much quicker at the mayor’s office.

On an afternoon late in the week Sarah was pointing out the potential for people to get around the registration system. “If somebody doesn’t register, how will we know? There are so many new faces that none of us have been able to learn what their names are.”

“This is the United States of America, Sarah. Do you know what that means?” Taken aback by Samuel’s impassioned tone, she looked at him warily but didn’t answer. After the silence stretched on for a couple of seconds, Samuel apologized. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to snap. This is America, though. We are a free nation. Our citizens are guaranteed certain rights. The government can’t step in and force people to register. People have a right to privacy.”

“What if those people are up to no good, though?” Sarah asked.

Sighing, Samuel ran his fingers through his hair. Then he answered, “Your town is in a difficult position. There’s no arguing that. I understand why the mayor and sheriff are taking the steps they’re taking, and I think so do most God-fearing people in and around Larkspur. The law, though, says that they don’t have a lot of authority over all these newcomers. They can’t even legally force them to register. They can only request it.”

“What can we do then?”

“Stick together,” Samuel answered.

“What about this coming Sunday?” Sarah asked. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

When it had become clear some of the eligible women in town were interested in finding husbands, a church picnic with activities was planned. There would be target shooting, races and other activities for the men while the women had a dessert baking contest, quilt raffle and sing off. Each of the participating men would wear a blue bandana while the women wore pink. Sarah was looking forward to the picnic and activities after a long week of reading letters.

“I think that Sunday is a good idea,” answered Samuel. “I always think a church picnic is great. Food, friends and fun – you almost can’t go wrong. Especially with food.” Samuel winked at Sarah and then went back to the letter in his hand. The remainder of the afternoon passed amicably.

****

On Saturday it was only Sarah, Samuel, and Cesar at the stage office. With everyone gearing up for tomorrow’s festivities, the stage office had remained fairly quiet. The three worked in amiable silence for most of the morning until Samuel jumped up from his chair and shouted, “I can’t take it anymore!” Sarah and Cesar both watched him carefully as if he had gone round the bend. “Don’t you two have any idea what time it is?” Samuel asked them both in a stage whisper.

Sarah had gotten used to Samuel’s antics over the course of the week, but she still couldn’t help but smile and answer, “Why no, sir, we have no idea of the time. Why don’t you look at your watch?”

“Egads, woman! Can you not tell I am wasting away here? Soon to perish from starvation and dehydration and readification?” Samuel lurched toward the counter, leaned on it heavily, and spoke, “Have you no mercy?”

Cesar shook his head, the thought “Crazy gringos!” transparent on his face. He returned his attention to the letter in his hand, apparently ignoring them. Sarah had to admit that she and Samuel had gotten sillier with each passing day. She was sure they were a regular topic of conversation at the Martinez dinner table. She was enjoying the fun she and Samuel shared. If nothing else, it broke up the monotony of such excessive letter reading.

Sarah, still looking at Samuel, arched her eyebrow and asked, “What exactly is readification?”

Samuel shrugged and said, “Reading until you’re too hungry to read anymore. Can I buy you lunch? I was thinking of Miss Martha’s – her food’s always hot and hasn’t killed anyone.”

“Recently. Hasn’t killed anyone recently. You haven’t been here long enough to know more than that.”

“Ah Sarah, ye of little faith. John and Ida told me where to eat.” With an impish grin, Samuel offered Sarah his arm. “Cesar, would you like to join us?”

“No thank you, sir. I think I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet here for a bit. Besides, I brought my lunch today.”

“Cesar, be sure to lock the door behind us and only unlock if it you know the person on the other side. You can pull the curtains, too, if you would like to. We’ve never had trouble before, but I’m not entirely comfortable leaving you here alone right now.”

“Don’t worry, boss, I’ll be fine. Go. Enjoy your lunch.” Cesar got up and made a big show of locking the door and closing the curtains to put Sarah’s mind at ease.

“He’ll be fine, Sarah. Besides, he probably wouldn’t welcome your worry.” With that, Samuel put his hand over Sarah’s where it rested at the crook of his elbow and began walking toward town and lunch.

Sarah’s heart raced as Samuel rested his hand atop hers. She wondered if he could feel her pulse racing. Truly, the stage office and Cesar’s safety were the furthest things from her mind right then.

Chapter Seven

“So,” Samuel started as they walked companionably toward town, “will you be wearing a pink bandana tomorrow?”

“I haven’t quite decided,” hedged Sarah. She wanted to wear a bandana, but only for Samuel. She wasn’t interested in other men noticing her. “Will you be sporting a blue bandana?”

“It’s a beautiful day today, don’t you think? The sky is blue, the breeze is light, and the company is delightful.” He glanced down at Sarah and answered, “I wouldn’t want to mislead any of the women of Larkspur by doing something to appear more eligible or interested than I truly am. Not to mention all those men looking to marry – if all of the women fall for me because they think I’m eligible, I can’t see as how I’d be making many friends.”

“Of course, Samuel.” Sarah wasn’t sure she understood at all. Was he saying he wasn’t eligible? Her mind suddenly went into overdrive. Her long-standing penchant for overanalyzing people and situations was certainly in fine form this afternoon. Could he be married? Engaged? Surely such a thing would have come up already. She wondered these things but wasn’t sure how to ask what she wanted to know.

Samuel peeked down at where she walked beside him.

“Uh, Sarah?” Samuel asked softly.

“Hmm?” was the only response he got.

“Is there something on your mind?” Samuel kept his voice soft and congenial.

“I was only thinking.”

“What were you thinking about?”

They arrived at the front gate to Miss Martha’s. While Samuel opened the gate so she could precede him through, Sarah shifted and looked up into Samuel’s face. She saw only kindness there and even thought she detected a hint of tenderness in his eyes.

“I would like to ask you something if you don’t mind. Perhaps I should have asked it before now, but it hadn’t occurred to me.”

“Of course, you may ask anything you would like.”

“Anything?”

****

“Absolutely anything!” Samuel replied with gusto, glad he finally had her talking again.

After they settled into their seats, Sarah leaned over and asked in a whisper, “Are you married?”

Samuel admitted to himself that he would never understand the inner workings of a woman’s mind. He had no idea what had prompted Sarah’s question and knew he had to have missed something significant. Still trying to puzzle out how this topic had been raised, Samuel answered with a firm, “No.”

Still whispering, she asked, “Are you engaged?”

“No.”

“Dating someone back home?”

“No.”

Samuel was trying to keep a straight face as he answered. How this woman delighted him!

“What is your business in town?”

“I am not able to discuss that.”

Surprise washed over Samuel as he realized Sarah had tried to get him to give up the information he had been protecting from the townsfolk. When he told her she could ask anything she wanted, it never occurred to him Sarah would use trickery to get information he had kept from her.

Sarah laughed in delight. “I had to try.”

Samuel shook his head, trying to look grave, but the corners of his mouth twitched anyway as he tried to withhold his smile. Samuel wondered if Sarah had genuinely expected him to fall for it.

“That, my fair lady,” Samuel said with false gravity, “was not fair play. I will have my revenge.”

“Oh?” asked Sarah with an arched eyebrow. “And how exactly do you intend to take revenge?”

“Very carefully.” Then Samuel winked at her before turning his attention to Lettie, the approaching waitress.

“What can I get for you folks today?” Lettie asked cheerfully.

Both Sarah and Samuel ordered the day’s special of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and fresh bread. Lettie had brought the coffee with her. Eyeing the pot in her hand, Samuel asked, “Is the coffee fresh?”

“Always!” Lettie replied pertly.

“Then I’ll have coffee, too, please. What about you, Sarah? What would you like to drink?”

“Coffee, too, please.”

“You’ll enjoy the special. Martha makes a mean meatloaf. Do you need any cream or sugar with your coffee?”

When Sarah nodded, Lettie zipped quickly away to grab the items. She placed the cream and sugar, as well as their napkins and silverware, on the table before they could even start a conversation.

****

Enjoying her coffee, Sarah sighed contentedly. Reveling in how she felt, Sarah realized she felt more alive when she spoke to Samuel than ever before in her life. Conversations with her papa had always been enjoyable, but he had always been so even tempered. It never would have occurred to her father to say something ludicrous for the sole purpose of making her laugh. She found she liked the banter with Samuel and enjoyed saying ridiculous things back to him, simply to see what he would come up with next. Never before had conversation felt so clever or been such fun!

“What prompted you to ask about my marital status?” Samuel’s tone was casual, though a tensing in his posture made Sarah wonder if he didn’t feel as disinterested as he sounded.

“We were discussing bandanas, and you said you weren’t eligible. It was either spend the rest of the day wondering what you meant or ask you and get it over with.”

“Then ask me,” Samuel said.

“I already did.” Sarah’s look was puzzled.

“You asked me if I’m married, but you never asked me what I meant when I said I wasn’t eligible.” Before she could voice the question, Sarah saw Sheriff Spooner enter the cafe. He glanced around the room then walked directly to them.

“Samuel, can I have a word with you? In private?”

Not looking too concerned, Samuel said, “Pardon me for a moment,” to Sarah and rose to follow the sheriff outside.

Sarah watched intently through the window as the two conversed. Their conversation didn’t appear to be heated, and no one seemed agitated. Everything seemed to be fine, but nonetheless, Sarah was not accustomed to the sheriff interrupting her meals, although most of her meals were normally taken alone and in the privacy of her own home. The sheriff’s intrusion made Sarah uncomfortable, but as she watched the two men speak to one another, they seemed to be agreeing about something rather than disagreeing, so Sarah decided she should let it go.

Sarah was again enjoying her coffee when Samuel re-entered the restaurant and returned to his seat. She was about to question what the sheriff had needed when Lettie arrived with two steaming plates of food and a basket of bread.

“This looks delicious, Lettie,” Samuel said appreciatively. “Please give our thanks to Martha.”

“Sure nuf, Mr. Livingston,” Lettie said in response. “Do you folks need anything else?”

Both Sarah and Samuel shook their heads, and Lettie took her leave.

As had become their custom at the stage office throughout the week, both Sarah and Samuel bowed their heads, and Samuel asked the blessing.

“Lord, thank you for this meal. Please bless the hands that prepared it, Lord, and the hands that delivered it. Thank you for all of your many provisions for us and for the many ways in which you take care of us that we never notice. Help us not to take You for granted. We ask a special blessing upon the town of Larkspur, Lord. There are some things going on here that could use a heavenly touch. Protect both the men and the women of this town in the coming days. Amen.”

“Amen,” echoed Sarah.

Sometimes Samuel would ask someone else to say the blessing, but she always liked it when he prayed. Something about the sound of his voice as he talked to the Almighty genuinely got to her. He talked to God reverently, sure, but he also talked to God as though they were great friends. Sarah liked that. It made her wonder sometimes if there was something missing in her relationship with God. A nudge at the back of Sarah’s mind told her she used formality to keep God at arm’s length. She put that thought aside, though, to exam later when she had time and quiet. Right now there was a meal and a man that both needed her attention.

****

“What did Sheriff Spooner need?” Sarah asked with a shuttered look on her face. Then she took a bite of meatloaf, and her face transformed.

Samuel watched her closely. If the look on Sarah’s face could be believed, the meatloaf was delicious. “Good meatloaf?”

“Mmm,” was all the response Sarah gave as she savored the next bite.

“I’ve noticed something about you, Sarah,” Samuel said as he spread butter on his bread.

“That I like food?” quipped Sarah.

“Well, okay, I’ve noticed a couple of things.” Samuel paused to take a couple of bites of his lunch and then continued. “One, you like food. Two, you can’t make coffee. Three, you mostly have an open expressive face. You get a poker face, though, sometimes. Do you know what a poker face is?”

Sarah swallowed her last bite of meatloaf and paused in her eating, answering his question. “I don’t spend much time in gambling halls. Do I even want to know what a poker face is?”

Samuel chuckled. “Okay, good point. It means you wipe the expression from your face. You keep your face neutral so people won’t know what you are thinking. Poker players find it useful because they don’t want the other people playing to know whether or not you have a good hand.”

Sarah nodded her understanding, but puzzlement puckered her brow. “I don’t gamble.”

“See, you’re doing it right now,” Samuel said. “A minute ago you were eating meatloaf, and it was clear as day you were pleased and enjoying yourself. Now suddenly your face is blank, and there’s no expression on it at all. You did the same thing when you asked about Sheriff Spooner. I want to understand what makes you put on your poker face.”

Sarah no longer felt hungry and put her fork down. “I don’t understand. Must I always show every emotion on my face? What if I wish to keep some emotions private? Is that wrong?”

Samuel could see he had upset Sarah. He could have kicked himself. Without meaning to, he seemed to have become an expert at hurting her feelings, and he didn’t know how to change that. “Sarah, I’m sorry if I upset you. Will you hear me out for a minute?”

Sarah nodded but still did not pick up her fork.

“If Minnie says something hurtful to you, what do you do?”

“She would never say anything hurtful.”

“But if she did?” persisted Samuel. “Would you get upset with her?”

“Minnie would never say anything hurtful on purpose. If she said something I thought was hurtful, I would know I had misunderstood her and taken it the wrong way.”

“Okay, that’s great. That’s the answer I was looking for.” Samuel could see he was losing her, so he tried to hurry to make his point. “You would assume you misunderstood because you know Minnie well enough to know she would never intentionally say anything hurtful, right?”

Sarah nodded, and Samuel continued, “You don’t know me well enough to give me the benefit of the doubt like that, do you?”

Samuel felt like he had Sarah’s attention now, so he continued. “I would never intentionally say anything to hurt you. I’m a pretty open guy. When I have questions, I ask them. If someone doesn’t want to talk about it, they tell me. My questions aren’t meant to be hurtful or make people uncomfortable. Because I care enough to want to understand the person with whom I am speaking, I ask questions. People who know me give me the benefit of the doubt when I ask or say something that could seem hurtful because they know I’m not a mean-spirited person. You don’t know me well enough to know that, though, and I seem to keep putting my foot in my mouth with you. I say things that hurt your feelings even though I mean them innocently. There has to be a way to get past that, but I haven’t found it yet.”

“Oh,” Sarah said softly and then picked up her fork again. Her eyes fell to her plate where she pushed the food around. Samuel wasn’t fooled into believing she was eating.

“See, like right now,” Samuel said. “I want to ask you what you are thinking, but I’m afraid if I do, you will think I am saying or doing something wrong and will get upset with me again.” When Sarah kept her head down, Samuel said, “Sarah, please look at me for a moment.”

Sarah took her time but finally lifted her face to meet his gaze. “I like you, Sarah, and I want to understand you. Sometimes I get pushy and try to get into other people’s minds and lives so I can understand what makes them tick. That’s the way I am. No harm is meant by it, and I’m sorry if I’ve been too pushy with you or have said things that hurt you. My only goal in doing so is to get to know you better.”

When the only response Sarah gave was a nod, Samuel picked up his coffee to drink. He was frustrated beyond anything he could remember feeling in a long time. Forcing the issue or trying to make her speak to him would get Samuel nowhere, and he knew that. Leaving her alone, he decided, was the best option. Maybe he’d done too much damage. Samuel had seen hints of this before from Sarah, but never quite so much as today. Maybe she was simply too closed off and private, so much so that she couldn’t possibly be the right person for him. He had believed he was following God’s will in spending time with Sarah. Committing to spend his life with someone who kept her heart so closely guarded that she could not be open with him, though, was not an option. Samuel began questioning everything he had been thinking and feeling over the past week.

Sarah and Samuel stood to exit the restaurant. As they walked down the front steps and Samuel stopped to open the gate for Sarah, he thought he heard her say something. “What was that?” he questioned.

“I think about things. When I get quiet, it’s because I’m thinking.” Sarah’s words were almost whisper quiet, and Samuel had to strain to hear them. When she added, “You gave me a lot to think about,” his heart soared. Maybe there was hope yet. She was sharing something of herself with him, not bantering or joking, but sharing a part of herself that told him something about the way her mind worked.

Samuel knew his response to Sarah’s comment was important, and he needed to get it right. Feeling blessed beyond measure, he said softly, “I can respect that, Sarah. Thank you for telling me. If I’m ever talking to you about something and you get quiet on me, I’ll know not to feel hurt. I’ll assume you are thinking and will give you the space you need. Does that sound alright with you?”

Sarah nodded as she said, “That sounds fine.” Then she graced Samuel with a timid smile that went straight to his heart.

He knew he had his work cut out for him in the days and weeks to come. How could he have guessed he would fall so hard for someone in such a short time? Samuel wasn’t certain yet if he could call this feeling love, but he knew for certain what he felt for Sarah was more powerful than anything he had ever before felt for another woman.

Wanting to answer her earlier question but without raising the tension level again, Samuel said conversationally, “Sheriff Spooner was asking me to stop by the office later today to get deputized. He wants some extra men around for tomorrow’s event at the church. Dividing staff up between town and the church tomorrow to maintain a strong presence in both places has gotten a little tricky, so he is bringing in a few more men to deputize.”

****

“Is that normal?” Sarah asked, her interest piqued.

“Deputizing extra men when needed? I guess it depends on the sheriff, but I have seen it done before,” replied Samuel.

“No, no, not that. I mean, is it normal to deputize someone who is visiting from out of town?”

“I suppose that, too, depends on the sheriff. In this case, John vouched for me, and Sheriff Spooner cleared it with the mayor. Every town does things a little bit differently.”

Samuel’s attention never seemed to waver from Sarah as he answered her questions, so she was surprised to realize he wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were on the path they were taking through town and on the people they passed. Sarah thought back over the time they had spent together. She had never noticed before, but it had always been like this with Samuel whenever he would walk her to or from the stage office. He might occasionally glance down at her, but his eyes were normally taking in the area around them.

Sarah was stunned she hadn’t realized this sooner. Samuel was an intelligent and capable man who had never failed to look after her safety without making her feel like she was in any danger to begin with. “I think you will make a fine deputy.” Then, some of the tease back in her voice, she added, “Perhaps you will find you like it so much you choose to make a career of it.”

Though she could not see his eyes, she was certain they contained a sparkle of humor. She could definitely hear the laughter in his voice when he told her, “I wouldn’t go jumping to conclusions if I were you.”

Chapter Eight

Sunday started bright and beautiful. The sky was a crisp blue, the air was warm but not too hot, and a nice comfortable breeze was blowing. Sarah was pleasantly anticipating the day at church. She rolled her eyes as she stood before the mirror, admitting only to herself that she was more excited about seeing Samuel than she was about hearing Reverend Green’s sermon. Trying to school her features into a somber and hopefully serene expression was hard work, and Sarah eventually gave up. The smile that broke across her face was anything but reverent. Shaking her head, she walked away from the mirror and headed down the stairs.

How Sarah wished she had a mother to talk with! She wanted to ask what it felt like to fall in love and whether it was wrong of her to be thinking more about Samuel than the upcoming sermon. Her mother’s advice would have been precious to her. She was certain her mother would have given her wonderful counsel. Unlike some other girls, Sarah had never been one to fall for lots of boys in school. Having never had a crush, she wasn’t sure what it felt like. Were her growing feelings for Samuel just that, or were they something more?

Samuel challenged Sarah on so many fronts. She had not realized how set in her own ways she had become until he came along and started asking her questions and speaking to her in ways that made her feel off balance. It was apparent she did not always handle those situations with him well. The realization of how used to her set routine in life she had become was rather startling for her. Sarah recalled something her papa used to say to her when she would help him at the office and something would go wrong.

“Begin your day by dedicating the entire day to the Lord.” Papa had a whole speech. “Then when things seem to go haywire, you will remember that whatever the problem is, it’s there because God allowed it and you will see it as simply another way to glorify Him, another opportunity to praise Him. When you take responsibility for the day yourself, though, and things go wrong, you get upset and bent out of shape and start looking for people to blame.”

Her whole countenance brightened as Sarah recalled her papa’s words. He spoke them to her so often she wondered if it was a written speech he had memorized. Even then Sarah had always been intent on things in life being done with orderliness and in a certain fashion. Papa always counseled her to give up control and let God be God. Since Papa’s passing, she had been trying to control her life and everything in it even more than normal.

Sarah descended the stairs as she mulled these things over. Samuel seemed organized and intelligent, but he was also carefree. She had always equated carefree with careless, but it didn’t seem that way with Samuel. Perhaps it was, in fact, possible to have fun and enjoy life but still take responsibilities seriously. Gratitude in her heart, Sarah prayed.

Thank you, Lord, for bringing Samuel into my life. None of us knows what the future holds, but I do believe I will be a better person for having known him. Help me to honor you in all the things I do, say and think. Give me wisdom so I will remember to glorify you while helping others to see that faith in You does not mean we all have to be dreary and dull. Please help me to keep my focus on you when, in truth, my feet feel like they want to float. I want to be the person you would have me to be. You know, Lord. You know my heart. Forgive me for missing the mark so much, and give me the strength to see the things about myself You would have me to change. Amen.

“Is everything alright?”

Sarah lifted her head in time to see Mayor Smith watching her with worry etched into his brow.

“Oh yes, everything is fine. I was merely… praying. There were some things on my mind.”

Sarah wasn’t sure how that would sound. Some people felt you should only pray at certain times – meals, church, weddings and funerals. She knew Mayor Smith wasn’t like that, but she wondered for a moment if he would think her disrespectful of God for praying as she was walking down the stairs. The smile that lit the mayor’s face immediately put her concerns to rest.

“The best time to pray is when you have something to talk about, eh?”

With dancing eyes, the mayor offered Sarah his arm and escorted her to the table for breakfast. Everybody else was already there.

Everyone filled their plates, and then the mayor asked Minnie to say the blessing. Minnie jumped slightly, surprised. They often took turns praying at mealtime, but Minnie had placed herself into a self-imposed exile since her confession. Nonetheless, she bowed her head and folded her hands.

“God,” she began, “thank you for this bounty. Please bless it to our bodies. We ask a special blessing on Reverend Green today, Lord. Fill him with Your Spirit so he may deliver a fine message. Be with all of the families and people and festivities today as well. Amen.”

Sarah eyed Minnie with concern. Because she had been working such long hours this week, there hadn’t been much time to spend with her friend, even though they were sharing a room. Minnie’s voice was clearly strained during her prayer, though, and as Sarah took a closer look at her, she could see Minnie was pale and seemed to have lost some weight. Determining to speak with her later today when they had a chance to be alone, Sarah decided to leave things be for now. Minnie was either ill or upset. Given the current situation in town, Sarah felt certain Minnie was letting guilt get the better of her.

“Ladies,” began Mayor Smith. “I have some things I would like to discuss with you this morning before we head over to the church.”

Sarah fixed her eyes upon the mayor expectantly as he continued.

“Minnie asked if she could remain at home today, but I fear that would send the wrong message to the people of Larkspur, so I have told her she must come with us. If I keep my family home today, the assumption will be that I didn’t think it was safe for them to be out, and that’s not a message I want to send. People will be watching to see how we react to the situation in town. We need to show confidence, but we also need to remain cautious. Sarah, I would like you to please stay with Minnie today. After church there will be a lot of events going on, and I will be expected to speak to the crowd. I will have to tell the crowd I know who placed the ad and that it was not intended to be malicious. Some people may get upset. With all of the newcomers in town, there may be trouble. Because it is likely I will get caught up with town business, I have asked the sheriff to provide a deputy to remain with the three of you at all times. In fact, I asked he deputize Samuel for that purpose. Samuel is already spending a lot of time with Sarah, so no one will give it a second thought if he stays with the three of you today.”

Sarah thrilled at the thought of being near Samuel all day.

“Minnie,” the mayor continued, “if there is any trouble at all, Samuel has strict instructions to get the three of you home and to stay with you until I arrive, however late that is. You may think it will help things if you stand up and confess to the town what you did. I am telling you now that I forbid you from doing so. Under no circumstances are you to say anything. Speaking up would draw attention to yourself and put you, your mother, and Sarah here at risk.

“Sarah,” the mayor said as he turned to her now and gave her a pointed look. “I am counting on you to stay with Minnie and alert Samuel immediately if you sense any danger at all.”

Sarah listened to what wasn’t said and knew the mayor was worried about Minnie’s wellbeing as well as what Minnie might say and do if she became overwrought.

Taking in all three of the women at his table, Mayor Smith concluded by saying, “I hope there is no trouble today, I truly do. I cannot gamble with your lives, though, and so I have taken precautions to keep you safe. No matter what happens in town, you do as Samuel says, whether you agree with what he is saying or not.”

Sarah hoped it was just her imagination that made her think the mayor was staring pointedly at her as he added, “No matter how much I may trust him to keep all of you safe, he can only do his job if you allow him.”

****

Reverend Green’s sermon was well received by some of the parishioners and not so kindly received by others. Clearly the reverend knew what he was up against with the crowd this morning. He preached on chaste behavior among men and women.

Sarah thought her blush might be permanently stained to her cheeks by the time Reverend Green was halfway through his message. Nothing he said was inordinately offensive, and Sarah had even heard him preach on this exact subject before. Never before had it applied to her, though, and she suddenly found herself feeling mighty uncomfortable as she sat in the pew and listened to him admonish women not to behave or dress in a way that would lead men into temptation. Her conscience was fairly well pricked today.

On the bright side, Sarah found she had no trouble concentrating on the message. At least that was one sin she wouldn’t have to confess next time she prayed. With a chuckle, Sarah admitted to herself that she didn’t want to think about all the other things she was going to have to confess following the morning’s sermon. Sarah grinned cheekily as she thought of her own silliness. Whether he intended to or not, Samuel was unmistakably having an impact on the way she thought and acted. She rather liked some of the light-hearted changes she was seeing in herself.

As soon as Mrs. Smith, Minnie, and Sarah stepped out into the sun following the morning’s church service, Samuel was there to greet them. He led the three ladies over to a shady area under a tree where he had already spread their blanket for them. Their basket was already there, as were their parasols, bonnets, and everything else they had packed into the buggy that morning. The food they had brought for the picnic meal had even been delivered to the tables set up to hold the food.

“You’ve certainly been busy!” Sarah exclaimed. She had been looking forward to having something constructive to do outside. Now that all the work had already been done, she found herself feeling at loose ends and wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Typically one to do for others rather than having others do for her, Sarah found her new lack of direction to be somewhat disconcerting.

****

Still not looking her best, Minnie spoke up, “Please tell us, Samuel, that you did not do all of this work solely to escape hearing the good reverend’s message this morning?”

Samuel wasn’t sure what to think of Minnie’s tone and swung his gaze to Sarah for help, only to see her blushing brighter than he’d ever seen her blush before. Turning his attention back to Minnie, he answered, “I would have loved to hear the sermon, but these things needed to be done. It couldn’t be avoided. I was hoping the three of you could tell me about Reverend Green’s message once we have our food and are settled back down here in the shade.”

Joining in the banter, Mrs. Smith mischievously declared, “I think, kind sir, that Sarah would best be able to tell you about Reverend Green’s message. Don’t you agree, Minnie?”

Looking back and forth between the three women, Samuel wished he knew what he’d gotten himself into. He felt like he was in the middle of a children’s game without anyone having told him the rules. Consequently, he was trapped with no way out.

Trying to convince himself the women meant no harm, even though their expressions left him wondering, Samuel swallowed a couple of times and finally said, “Well, ladies, I recommend we go get ourselves into line, or I fear the food will all be gone before we have a chance to eat.”

“I doubt it will all be gone anytime soon,” Sarah finally spoke. “We always have so much food left over after these gatherings.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Samuel said with a shake of the head. “You don’t realize how much food a bunch of roaming bachelors can eat. I think you will be surprised at how quickly the food goes today.” With that, Samuel swept out his arm and indicated the ladies should precede him toward the tables of food.

As the women gathered up their plates from their basket, Mrs. Smith gave Samuel’s plate to Sarah so she could pass it to him. Mrs. Smith led the way, followed by Minnie. Sarah was right behind Minnie, but she paused long enough by Samuel to hand him his plate. When he took it from her, his fingers brushed across hers. Sarah jumped back as though she, too, had felt lightning dance between them at that passing touch.

Looking into her eyes, eyes that reminded him of the greenest lake kissed by grey clouds, he saw something that made him want to sink into her expression. Taking him entirely by surprise, though, a flash of shame crossed her face, and then she averted her gaze. Puzzled, he walked with the women toward the food tables. Shame was not a word he would have ever thought to associate with Sarah Jenkins.

Following behind the women, Samuel arrived at the tables of food in time to realize he was going to be standing in line for a good long while. Not only had Samuel not expected a line to form this quickly, but he had also forgotten Mrs. Smith’s role in the community. He was accompanying the wife of the mayor. Everyone wanted to ask her what she knew and what she thought about the goings on in town, from the placement of the ad to the topic of this morning’s sermon.

“Shameful, I tell you!” one woman screeched at Mrs. Smith as Samuel stood by. “I cannot believe Reverend Green would speak on such an unseemly topic. That man is getting too old for the pulpit. That’s my opinion. He’s not thinking right anymore!”

Mrs. Smith gave a stiff smile as she disentangled herself from the woman’s grasp. She took two more steps toward the tables of food before another woman clamored for her attention. “Such a wise choice the reverend made this morning, wouldn’t you say? Brave of him to speak on such a topic with today’s crowd in attendance.”

Samuel found that Mrs. Smith made a wonderful politician’s wife. She nodded, her smile solidly in place, and replied, “It’s good to have a reverend who seeks God’s will about his sermon topics.”

While being completely truthful, Mrs. Smith said not a word in favor of the sermon or a word against it. Samuel’s interest was piqued. He was definitely going to have to find out what this sermon had been about.

As they made their way through the food line, they could not take two steps without somebody else stopping the mayor’s wife to speak to her. While Samuel had expected most people to be asking about the ad and if they knew yet who had placed it or to express concern about the still large number of men in town, that did not turn out to be the case. Over three quarters of the inquiries and remarks directed at Mrs. Smith were all about this morning’s sermon.

Samuel saw Reverend Green standing to the side as they neared the end of the food tables. While keeping an eye on his charges, he stepped over and spoke to the reverend.

“I’m hearing a lot about this morning’s message, Reverend, but nobody is mentioning what it was actually about. I was setting up outside and helping with security and missed the sermon. Can you enlighten me?”

Reverend Green answered with humor. “Yes, I imagine you are hearing quite a bit about it.” The reverend grew somber as he made eye contact with Samuel. “Do you sincerely wish to get to know Sarah Jenkins better?” The reverend’s penetrating look made Samuel feel that the man could see straight into his soul.

“Yes, sir, I do,” he answered honestly.

Seemingly pleased both by the words and by whatever he saw in Samuel’s eyes, the reverend continued softly, “In that case, I recommend you ask Miss Jenkins about this morning’s sermon.”

Stunned, Samuel felt his eyebrows hitch higher up onto his forehead. Clearly the reverend did not know Sarah all that well.

As if speaking in answer to his thoughts, Reverend Green continued, “Sarah is not always an easy person to get to know.” The reverend paused as Samuel chuckled and then continued, “If you want to get to know her better, though, in the ways that truly count between a man and a woman who want to build something lasting, then you need to ask her about this morning’s message. It is important for two people who are considering courtship to be able to have open discussions about difficult topics. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Samuel was trying to gauge how to respond to the remark about courtship when he realized the three women he was supposed to be guarding were standing nearby watching him. They were ready to head back to their blanket in the shade, and his conversation was delaying them. None of the women appeared impatient or put out, but Samuel felt he needed to get them back and settled with all due haste.

The reverend placed a hand on Samuel’s arm and said, “It is not a conversation you should have with her in private. I think Mrs. Smith would be a good chaperone for such a topic.”

Samuel nodded his understanding as he started to step away. In truth, though, he understood little of what the reverend meant. What sermon topic could be so volatile that even the mere conversation about it required a chaperone? Just what kind of preaching was done out west?

A woman shouldered her way past Samuel to get to the reverend and began gushing about what a wonderful sermon the reverend had preached. Samuel did a double-take as he realized this was the same woman who had moments ago described the sermon as shameful. Shaking his head in sympathy for the reverend, Samuel escorted the women back to the blanket in the shade. They may have had to stand in line a long time to get their food, but he felt certain that as the afternoon wore on, this spot in the shade would be a welcome relief for all three of the women in his charge.

Chapter Nine

As the group arrived at their blanket and settled down to eat their meal, Minnie asked Samuel, “So tell me, Samuel, are you in actual fact a deputy?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a flourish, removing his hat and bowing. Then he gave Minnie an impish grin and added, “For today anyway.”

“Why aren’t you wearing a badge?” Minnie asked as she poured lemonade from the canteen into tin cups for everyone.

Samuel laughed. “Well, it’s like this,” he began. “I didn’t think it matched my nice, fancy, Sunday-best suit, so I asked the sheriff if I could skip the formality.”

Samuel winked at Minnie as he accepted his cup of lemonade. The truth was that the mayor had asked him not to draw attention to himself, and the sheriff had run out of badges long ago, making it a moot point. More men were deputized right now than ever before in the history of Larkspur. Tensions were running high all over town, but he didn’t think the women here needed to be apprised of that. Besides, the mayor had asked him to especially downplay any danger for Minnie’s sake. She already felt so badly about everything, and the mayor was afraid her conscience would get the best of her and put all of them in an even more precarious situation.

Little was said for long minutes as everyone ate their fill. Samuel had been so busy watching everyone around him he hadn’t put enough food on his plate to feed a sparrow, let alone a grown man. Done long before any of the ladies, hunger still gnawed at his belly. Eyes focused on the crowd, Samuel was constantly scanning faces as well as the actions and behavior of people within the vicinity of their tree. He couldn’t stop himself from one last, longing glance at his empty plate.

Before Samuel could even lift his eyes back to the crowd, another plate of food appeared in front of him. Samuel inclined his face to see Sarah handing him her plate, heaped much higher than his plate had been with tasty looking samples from the food tables.

“Minnie and I both took more than we could eat. We don’t want the food go to waste. I’m going to help Minnie finish what’s on her plate. Could you possibly eat the rest of what’s on mine?”

Looking back and forth between the two friends, Samuel finally asked, “I’m starving, and I’m not going to turn down an offer of food, but I have to know, did you plan this?” Samuel knew he’d hit his mark. Sarah couldn’t lie, and she averted her face to try to avoid answering.

Minnie, on the other hand, had no compunction about speaking freely. “We could see you were too busy doing your job to properly fill your plate, and I felt bad because Mum told me to bring two plates for you, but I forgot, so we made do with what we had.”

“Well, I must say thank you. I won’t let a single morsel go to waste.” With that, Samuel began devouring the delicious home-cooked fare. His eyes still scanned the crowd, but his heart felt light. It pleased him that Sarah had thought of him and, in addition, was trying to spare his feelings by saying they’d taken too much food. Had she been up front about it, his feelings would not have been hurt. Nonetheless, her choice to try sparing him any hurt feelings touched him.

Samuel enjoyed his food, did his job, and listened to the girls chat conversationally with each other. It gave him an insight into Sarah he’d not seen before. When she spoke with him, Sarah was sometimes open and sometimes guarded. At times she seemed so guarded as to be completely closed off. Speaking with Minnie, though, she was completely open and unreserved. There was no shadow of caution on her face, no hesitation in her words. All the walls she had built up around herself seemed to be down. Samuel enjoyed this view of her fully at ease. It was a delight to behold, and it reminded him she was worth the trouble. They might have the occasional awkward conversation, but if it helped the two of them to reach a point where she could be as comfortable around Samuel as she was around Minnie, then it would be well worth it.

“Did you see Mrs. Winchel when you put the pot pie on my plate?” Minnie asked.

Sarah chuckled and answered, “I never knew a person’s eyes could get that big! We must have been a sight!”

Minnie continued, “My plate was so full by then I couldn’t hold it one-handed and scoop my own food. And the elder Mrs. Johnson,” Minnie said referring to Mrs. Johnson’s elderly mother-in-law who had come to live with her son a couple of years ago, “seemed to be gearing up for a lecture on decorum. Thank goodness Samuel finished talking with Reverend Green when he did!”

Samuel’s eyebrows rose in question, and Sarah answered his inquiry before he could voice it.

“The elder Mrs. Johnson is from back east. Moved out here a couple of years ago to live with our Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, her son and daughter-in-law. Everyone refers to her as ‘the elder Mrs. Johnson’ so they don’t get the two women confused. She is used to fancy tea parties and social events from the big city. Making friends did not come easy when she first moved here. She was harsh with most of us. Our country ways didn’t suit her, and she took it upon herself to correct every single one of us. Our etiquette was not up to her standard.”

When Sarah paused to take a bite, Mrs. Smith stepped in to finish the story. “Mr. Johnson was hurt about eight months ago. He broke several bones and was laid up for quite a while. He’d been felling trees and got trapped. It was terrible. Many weeks went by after the accident before we even knew whether or not Mr. Johnson would survive. Everyone in the community stepped in to help work his land. People took care of his farming, his animals, everything. The elder Mrs. Johnson had never seen kindness like that before. She was shaken when she realized how harshly she’d been judging those same people who had poured out so much love on her son and his family. One Sunday in church, she stood up, asking everyone for forgiveness and another chance. Anyone can see how hard she is trying to get to know people better now. It’s been a beautiful thing to watch.”

If the girls’ expressions were any indication, there was more to this story, but Samuel would not be hearing about it today. Mrs. Smith gave both Minnie and Sarah a look that made it clear they should not be telling tales on other people.

Minnie couldn’t resist adding, “She still feels the need to lecture the young ladies on decorum now and then, though, and when she decides you need a lecture, there’s no escaping her!”

Sarah put her hand on Minnie’s arm and stepped back into the conversation. Looking at Samuel, she said, “Now, though, when she lectures you, she does it with kindness. A lot of us young women who grew up out west don’t understand the way citified folks do things. In these last months, the elder Mrs. Johnson has taught me something important.”

Minnie gawked at Sarah as if she’d sprouted wings and was about to fly away. Demurely sitting with her back ramrod straight, Sarah adjusted her skirt. She let the anticipation build a bit, knowing both Minnie and Mrs. Smith wanted to hear what she had to say, though Mrs. Smith was too much of a lady to show it outright.

“It is far easier,” Sarah spoke with the false authority of a child pretending to be a teacher, “to get others to see things your way when you speak to them with kindness.”

Mrs. Smith hid a smile behind her hand while Minnie laughed outright. The expression on Samuel’s face gave nothing away.

Mrs. Smith gathered everyone’s plates to put back in their basket. The foursome decided to sit back and relax a bit. Some of the locals, as well as the church choir, were taking turns singing hymns to entertain the crowd before the competitions began.

****

“I have decided to go to college,” Minnie said suddenly.

As Sarah’s gaze swung toward her friend, she took in Mrs. Smith’s shocked expression and could tell this was the first Minnie’s mother had heard of this as well. She couldn’t read Samuel’s blank expression but could tell that his eyes appeared to be focused on the crowd.

“Mum, I know it’s the right thing. Sarah is right. People listen to kindness. In all these months, I didn’t even figure that out. There is so much for me to learn, but I don’t feel like I can learn it here. Making better choices is important, but I can admit that’s not my only problem. I need to learn how to be an adult. Going somewhere…” Minnie waved her hands in the air, at a loss for words on how to finish her thought.

Sarah reached out and took her friend’s hands in her own. “Are you sure?” Minnie nodded, and Sarah squeezed her hands encouragingly. “I think I understand. Do you know what you want to study?”

College had been a dream of Sarah’s for much of her childhood. Her father had spoken of it with such awe. He had always wanted to go, but his parents could not afford to send him. From the time Sarah was born, he and Sarah’s mother had started putting money away so she could go to college if she wanted to. Together, she and her father often talked of college and what it would be like. It wasn’t common for women to go, but it was becoming more acceptable.

When Sarah had arrived at the age where she could have gone, she’d prayed long and hard about it. Feeling pulled in two directions but unable to explain why, Sarah ultimately had decided not to go away to further her education. Heartbroken by her own decision, she’d remained in Larkspur.

A couple of months later, Sarah’s father died unexpectedly. She was so grateful she had stayed home with him. She never again thought of leaving for college, and she never regretted not going. Though a wonderful, kind, loving person, Minnie did indeed need some direction in her life. Excitement coursed through Sarah as she thought about the adventure awaiting her dear friend.

Minnie shook her head. “I’m not cut out to be a teacher, that’s for sure. There are a lot of options I still need to explore.” Her face simultaneously radiated uncertainty and peace.

Sarah understood. She knew what it was like to be at peace with God but still uncertain about your circumstances.

“If Dad says it’s okay, though, then I want to start with the next term.” Minnie watched her mother and told her in a voice strengthened by confidence but lacking the obstinacy that normally rang through her tone, “This is the right thing for me.”

Mrs. Smith nodded to her daughter, tears misting her eyes. “You are growing up before my eyes. We will speak to your father at the first opportunity. You are my last child at home. The other girls have all married fine men and moved away. It will be difficult to see you go, too. I will endeavor not to worry about you, but it will be hard. My love for you has never been conditional, and it never will be. If this is what you truly want, then I will support you, but I want you to understand we are not pushing you out of our nest.”

“I know, Mum,” Minnie answered the unspoken question. “I’m certain.”

Sarah sat quietly watching mother and daughter. The longing for a loving relationship like the one they shared washed through her. At times like these, she missed her parents even more than normal. She often wondered why God took them home when He did. Whenever those doubts assailed her, she chose to believe God knew what was best and to trust that one day she would be in His presence where it would all become clear to her.

Sarah thought she understood why Minnie chose to bring it up here, in public. At home, emotions would have taken over, and Minnie might not have been able to express how certain she was. It would have ended up sounding like she wanted to run away from her mistakes. Sarah couldn’t exactly relate to that, but she had enough experience to know people sometimes listen so closely to our words that they fail to hear what we are saying with our heart. Here, in this setting, Minnie was able to keep her emotions from tangling up her words so that she could express her heart more clearly. After a couple minutes of silence, Samuel moved himself around a bit to lean up against the base of the tree. This put the three ladies between him and the rest of the people gathered on the church lawn. “So Sarah,” he said, “I’m mighty curious about this morning’s message. Not a single person has given me a straight answer about it.”

The blush did not delicately creep up into Sarah’s cheeks. Of course not. This blush shot up Sarah’s neck and face faster than a deer fleeing a hungry mountain lion.

“Perhaps you should ask Reverend Green about it,” she offered as she moved her eyes about everywhere except in Samuel’s direction.

“You know, I think that’s a mighty fine idea,” Samuel said with a grin. “In fact, I did that very thing. Want to know what he told me?”

Not sure she actually wanted to know, Sarah asked anyway, “What did the good reverend say?”

“He told me to ask you about the sermon.”

****

As Samuel said the words, he watched the three ladies. Mrs. Smith picked up her fan and hid her face, but her eyes told the story of laughter barely held at bay. Minnie spit out the drink of lemonade she’d taken before she could swallow it. Sarah, meanwhile, went from blushing a nice healthy pink to turning a pasty white, her hand clutching at her throat as though her fingers could dig out the right words for her to say.

Buoyed by the laughter he saw in Mrs. Smith’s eyes, Samuel continued, “So, are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to go around asking everyone else that was in the congregation this morning?”

“You really don’t want to go around asking people about the sermon. Besides, you’re supposed to stay here with us.” Sarah’s voice held triumph as she said the last part.

Not able to resist needling her, he said, “I could always invite people over to our blanket so I can ask them.”

“It was a message about propriety.” Sarah blurted, still not making eye contact.

“That’s a broad term. Was he talking about propriety in business or in church?”

Samuel knew he was pushing and that it could backfire. In addition to Reverend Green’s valid argument, though, Samuel simply delighted in seeing the way Sarah squirmed. He had dealt with a lot of different people in his life, not all of which had been savory. It warmed his heart to be reminded there were people left in the world who were good and honest and sheltered from the darker nature of man.

Sarah, looking as prim as she could under the circumstances, answered, “Propriety in relationships.” Sarah then clarified, “Between men and women. Propriety in relationships between men and women.” It seemed to Samuel that Sarah might actually be choking on the words.

“Ah,” he said with a smile. “Now we’re getting somewhere. So what sage advice did Reverend Green have for the gentlemen in his congregation today?”

Sporting a perpetual blush now, Sarah answered, “I didn’t particularly hear that part of the message.”

“Miss Sarah Jenkins, are you telling me you were not paying attention to this morning’s message? You weren’t daydreaming in church, were you?”

“Of course not!” Sarah’s incredulous response drew the looks of people from a couple of other blankets nearby. Quieting her voice, she continued, “I was reading some verses Reverend Green had pointed out when speaking about a woman’s role. I was so caught up in the message he had for the women that I failed to hear the message he had for the men.”

“Then tell me about the message he had for the women. I am mighty interested in that.”

Samuel was determined to push through this conversation until Sarah would look up at him and make eye contact. Whether it was shyness or embarrassment, she needed to overcome it enough to look at him when she spoke about these things if they were going to have a future together. At least that’s how Samuel saw it. He chose not to acknowledge that Sarah may not have realized yet he was planning a future for them.

****

Sarah was certain Samuel was tormenting her on purpose. Getting him to drop the subject altogether seemed to be out of the question. The verses from this morning’s sermon swam around in her mind. There had been verses about chastity, modesty, and behaving honorably. Other verses had been in there, too, verses about submitting to your husband. Samuel was not her husband, so those verses did not apply to her. There had been other passages, though, about recognizing and respecting authority.

Because her father was no longer living, Sarah’s situation was more complicated. She was staying with the Smiths right now, and she felt God had put her under Mayor Smith’s authority while she was residing in his home. The mayor cared for her and had her best interests at heart, though, so she did not mind. In turn, though, the mayor had placed her under Samuel’s authority for the day. Discomfort assailed her at that thought, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

****

Now knowing the silence from Sarah did not mean she was upset but rather that she was thinking some things through, Samuel did not mind the quiet. He respected the fact that she didn’t generally respond rashly to people or situations. When she did finally answer, he knew it would be an honest, well-thought-out answer. Samuel was not disappointed.

Sarah finally raised her eyes from her lap, gave Samuel a piercing look, and asked him, “Why do you wish to know about the reverend’s council for women?” Her tone was kind but serious.

Samuel knew this was not a time for jesting. “I know what the Bible says on the subject, but I want to hear what you got out of the sermon because I would like to understand you better.”

“Why?” Sarah responded earnestly.

Samuel cast his eyes around, as though looking for help in formulating an answer. Finally he shifted back to the woman before him.

“Sarah, I want to answer your question, but I don’t know how. I gave my word to the mayor. He asked me to keep some things to myself until the situation in this town has settled down. Being a man of honor is important to me, and part of that includes being a man of my word. The answer to your question kind of falls under the umbrella of those things he asked me to keep to myself. That’s not a satisfying answer, I know, but it’s the only one I can give you right now.”

It was clear that Sarah agreed about how unsatisfactory his answer was. Nonetheless, she forged ahead with answering Samuel’s question. Samuel was so proud of her. Sarah had pluck, that was for sure and certain.

“Reverend Green covered a lot of topics. Primarily, a woman is to be chaste in her behavior and dress. She should not dress, speak, or act in a way that will lead a man to have impure thoughts about her. Women are to submit to their husbands, but in the absence of a husband, they are to submit themselves to the authority God has placed in their lives, whether it is parents, guardians, employers, or church leaders. Of equal import, women must guard their thoughts, because when a woman has thoughts about a man which are not appropriate, it will show on her face and in her body language, and it will give the man ideas.”

Samuel let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot to cover in one morning. And that was only the women’s part of things? I’ll bet a lot of men were itching to get out of there by the time Reverend Green was done with them.”

Surprise on her face, she asked, “What makes you say that?”

“In my experience,” Samuel spoke, “when a man of the cloth shoots it straight like that, the men get the worst of it.”

“I find that hard to believe. He was hard on the women.”

“Is Reverend Green a fair man?”

When Sarah nodded, Samuel continued, “Trust me when I say then, that whatever he dished out to the women, he dished out equally as much, if not more, to the men. That would be the fair thing for him to do, right?”

“I’ve never known the reverend to be unfair,” Sarah conceded.

“So,” Samuel continued, “what did you personally get out of the reverend’s message? You’ve told me what it was about but not what you got out of it.”

The look on Sarah’s face told him plenty. It shouted out her conflicting emotions. Samuel’s training in interrogation served him well as he watched the woman whose answer he awaited. Wanting to give her a break, he returned his eyes to the church grounds and began scanning the crowd again, avoiding a direct gaze at Sarah. As soon as he turned his eyes away from her, he was rewarded with her answer. “I mostly got confusion out of the sermon.”

Samuel glanced back at Sarah momentarily, surprised by her answer. As soon as he returned his attention to the crowd again, she continued, “I’ve always thought it was okay to converse with the people around you, be they male or female. In my line of work, I talk to all kinds of people, most of whom are men. Since this morning’s sermon, I find I am replaying many situations in my head and asking myself if I behaved in a way or said something that could be considered unchaste.”

“Such as?” questioned Samuel.

“You and I went to lunch together, alone, unchaperoned, yesterday. Was that okay, or in so doing, was I putting sinful ideas into your head about me?”

Mrs. Smith looked ready to jump into the conversation at Sarah’s question, but Samuel’s words came first, “No. You did not put sinful ideas into my head. The thing about ideas is that you can’t put something in someone else’s mind that’s not already at least a little bit there. If a man has impure thoughts about a woman, it is likely because he has behaved impurely with a woman in the past. Knowledge and thoughts of that behavior are in his mind because he has first-hand experience with it. From that point on, things can happen which remind the man of his past behavior. A woman who is completely chaste and upright may say or do something innocent to its core, but for whatever reason, it brings up memories in the man’s mind of his previous immoral acts. It leads him to have sinful thoughts about the woman before him, the woman who is chaste and upright and who did nothing at all wrong. In that situation, it is not the woman’s fault the man is having these thoughts. The fault lies with the man.”

Seeing he had the attention of all three women and that Mrs. Smith was not skewering him with her eyes, Samuel continued. “There are other situations in which a man has impure thoughts about a woman, sure, but I think that’s the type of situation you’re asking about. A woman’s responsibility is to behave in a way which honors God. At the end of this day, you are not going to answer to me, or even to the mayor, for your behavior today. You are going to answer to God. If you can stand before Him unashamed, then you have nothing to fear.”

Minnie spoke up with a question of her own, “If a woman does not know what sorts of things make a man have impure thoughts, then how can she guard against such behavior?”

“That’s a good question, Minnie.” Samuel mulled the question over for a moment and then spoke directly to Minnie, hoping Sarah was listening. “Have you ever heard of art forgery?”

“Of course.”

“How do you think forgeries are discovered?”

Minnie shook her head and said, “I don’t know.”

“Some people,” began Samuel, “think the best way to find forgeries is to study how forgeries are made. The truth is, though, the experts know the only way to detect a forgery is to have examined the real thing. If you know the original work of art well, you are much more likely to be able to spot a fake.” Minnie nodded in understanding. Samuel could see, though she wasn’t responding outwardly, he still had Sarah’s attention as well.

“It’s the same with us. We need to study the original correct way of living so we can live righteously. Spending all of our time studying what we should not do will only serve to distract us from the path God has for us. Sometimes people think being a believer is all about a lot of dos and don’ts, but it’s not. If we, as Christians, spend our time learning the dos of our faith, then we will naturally avoid the don’ts.”

Sarah remarked, “What you are saying makes sense, but how do we do that?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Samuel said with a smile. “I was raised by a good, upstanding man, and he taught me right living by example. My mama, though, she taught me to study God’s word and to make my faith a real thing in my life. One of her favorite verses was Philippians 4:8. It says, ‘Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.’ See, Paul is telling us there to think about the good things, the things that are true, honest, pure and that hold virtue.

“Don’t get me wrong. The don’ts of our faith are important. Don’t commit murder. Don’t commit adultery. Don’t steal. Those are all good. I believe, though, if we spend our time focusing on and doing the right things, then we won’t be nearly as tempted by the wrong things. If I am thinking about things that are pure and just and honest, am I going to rob someone? No. If I am thinking about the things that are virtuous and true, am I going to lie or murder? No.”

Suddenly stopping, Samuel said, “Sorry, ladies. I didn’t mean to go on like that. Hope I didn’t bore you.”

****

Sarah wasn’t sure she had ever seen a man look embarrassed before. The look was so charming on Samuel’s face she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Briefly, she wondered why he didn’t refer to the man who had raised him as his father. That thought drifted away, though, as Sarah concentrated on the continuing conversation.

“Mr. Livingston?” spoke Mrs. Smith.

“Yes ma’am?” he answered.

“I think you did a fine job of helping us all to understand a few things, not solely about right living, but about you as well. Thank you for sharing your point of view with us. I applaud your position and think we could all do a little bit better in life if we remembered the dos.”

Mrs. Smith looked like she was about to say something more when one of the deacons stepped up to the podium to announce the dessert auction would begin.

Everyone in the crowd was looking forward to this. Sarah had counted ten women today wearing pink bandanas and more than thirty men wearing blue. Her eyes widened in surprise as she realized some of the men from Larkspur were sporting blue bandanas right along with the out-of-towners. She’d never have known any of these men were looking for a wife. Perhaps it hadn’t occurred to them to do so until this whole Eligible Female business came about.

The women wearing pink bandanas ranged from young Mary Fitzgerald to Mrs. Alice Jones. Mary must be around seventeen years old. Her daddy was a widower who liked the bottle and didn’t treat his kids right at all. Both Sheriff Spooner and Reverend Green had tried to talk to him more than once to no avail. It was no wonder Mary wanted to get married and leave home. Sarah was surprised, though, because she’d always thought Mary had remained at home to help protect and take care of her younger siblings.

Seeing Mrs. Jones with a pink bandana was also a bit of a shock for Sarah. Mrs. Jones had been a widow for nigh on thirty years. Sarah sighed at her own shortsightedness. Just because someone had been alone a long time didn’t mean they weren’t lonely, and it certainly did not mean the person truly wanted to be alone.

Sarah was glad she had not put on a pink bandana or entered a dessert in the auction. The sheer number of men in the crowd was daunting.

As the auction began, Samuel stood up and leaned back against the tree in a casual pose. Imagining that this gave him a better vantage point, Sarah still asked, “Why did you stand?”

Samuel hesitated a moment before answering, “I can see better, and I can react more quickly if needed.” Not sure if his answer made her feel safer or in more danger, Sarah said, “Oh.”

The women sporting pink bandanas lined up at the front. A chocolate cake so tall it looked like it would topple over at any minute was the first dessert to be auctioned. Sarah had tasted that same cake before at a different church picnic. Whoever won this particular auction, if he had any sense at all, would be down on one knee proposing before the day was over. The cake was that good.

Sally, the woman who made the cake, was in her late thirties. Her two children were already grown and married. Gold fever had shanghaied her husband off to Alaska some years back. It was hard for the family, but she and her boys had managed. Word had come a year or so ago that her husband had been killed in an accident up north, but by then he had already been gone from their lives for a good half-dozen years or so. She and her boys had worked their farm by themselves all those years, but as the boys married, both had ended up moving away, leaving her alone with the farm. Sarah hoped Sally would be choosy as she sought a mate. A lot of men might marry her only for the farm she now owned.

Bidding for Sally’s cake started at five cents and quickly climbed to two dollars. As some of the men dropped out of the bidding, it came down to two. The remaining men were polar opposites. One appeared to be about Sally’s age, was dressed in a suit and gave the impression of being the perfect gentleman. The other couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, had shaggy hair and, if the wear and tear his clothes showed was any indication, was used to hard work. Sally seemed nervous as the bidding continued to climb.

When the bidding got to two dollars and fifty cents, the man in the suit bowed out, and both Sally and her triple layer chocolate delight cake went to join the young man at her blanket. If Sarah hadn’t been privy to the goings on in the mayor’s house this week, she might not have noticed the deputy who casually positioned himself near Sally’s blanket.

The next three desserts were all auctioned off in quick succession to local men, and the women who accompanied the desserts appeared delighted. Mrs. Jones was up next. She stood at the front of the crowd, back ramrod straight. She had cleaned houses, done laundry, mended clothes and more for many of the people in this crowd. It wasn’t always easy for a woman alone to make it out west. Hard work had allowed her to scrape out an existence here, but the years had not always been kind to her. Sarah guessed Mrs. Jones to be in her fifties, but she came across as much older. When no one immediately bid on Mrs. Jones’ peach cobbler, Sarah felt her throat close in pain for the woman. Mrs. Jones could seem severe, but she was always respectful of others and had only ever been kind to Sarah.

All of the desserts had started with an opening bid of five cents. An opening bid for Mrs. Jones’ dessert was not forthcoming, though, and it became apparent the auctioneer was going to have to drop the bid, which had not been needed yet today and would be an embarrassment for the older woman.

A jolt went through Sarah as she heard Samuel’s voice confidently call out, “Fifteen cents!”

No emotion flickered across Mrs. Jones’ face, but the deacon who was heading the auction was visibly relieved. Nobody made a fuss about Samuel’s bidding without wearing a blue bandana. The blacksmith, whose wife had passed away two months ago, bid next, offering twenty-five cents. He was not wearing a bandana either, and Sarah was certain his bid was out of kindness rather than matrimonial intentions. When Samuel countered with thirty cents, though, the crowd finally seemed to come to life, and men began bidding furiously, both those with bandanas and those without.

Once the pace of the bidding picked up, both Samuel and the blacksmith bowed out. An older out of town gentleman, probably close to Mrs. Jones’ age, finally won the cobbler and her company with a bid of one dollar and ninety-five cents.

Sarah twisted to face Samuel and silently mouthed the words, Thank you. He nodded his acknowledgement of her words and winked at her, then returned his eyes to the goings on around the churchyard.

As the next desserts were all quickly auctioned off to out of town men, Sarah noted a deputy going to sit in the vicinity of each woman whose dessert went to anyone not locally known.

When Mary Fitzgerald stepped up next to the deacon with a beautiful strawberry pie, Sarah heard Samuel say, “Something’s wrong.”

All of the women on their blanket stared at him, but his eyes were riveted on Mary. Sarah wheeled back around to look at Mary and saw fear on the young girl’s face. She began scanning the crowd to find the source of the fear. Her eyes fell on Mary’s blanket where her four younger siblings sat, two boys and two girls.

The boys were known for getting into trouble, but Sarah was hard pressed to blame them, considering what their home life was like. She had been privy to a couple of conversations between Ida and John and knew the teacher and his wife prayed for this family often. As Sarah watched the children, nothing seemed amiss. Then she saw that same look of fear come over the younger girls’ faces, a stark reflection of Mary’s expression.

As the deacon was about to start the bidding, Mr. Fitzgerald bellowed from the back of the crowd, “That’s my young’un and ain’t nobody bidding on her pie! I ain’t raising no harlot to get paid for her favors!”

The crowd fell into shocked silence as his belligerence washed over them. Most everyone knew Mr. Fitzgerald had a drinking problem and was hard on his kids, but even then no one had expected a public spectacle of this kind. As Mr. Fitzgerald weaved his way up toward the front of the crowd, it became clear he was inebriated. He could barely stay on his feet, and if the pinched look on the women’s faces was any indication, his odor was none too pleasant as he passed.

Reverend Green approached the man, “Now Charles, there’s no need to yell. We can sort this thing out.”

When Charles Fitzgerald lunged at Reverend Green, one of the newly-appointed deputies jumped in and grabbed him from behind. The young deputy was no match for Mr. Fitzgerald’s fury, though. Fearlessness fed by anger and drink allowed the older man to throw the deputy to the ground and make another move toward the reverend. Fury and rage emanated from him like heat off the ground during a long summer day.

Samuel kept his post, closely watching the drama unfold but staying where he could protect the ladies in his charge if needed.

Reverend Green held up his hands to placate Mr. Fitzgerald as the man continued to yell obscenities. Sheriff Spooner quickly moved up behind Mr. Fitzgerald.

Sarah could hear Reverend Green saying, “I understand where you’re coming from, and we’ll take care of that, but I need you to control your language. There are ladies here, including Mary, and they shouldn’t be subjected to this kind of language or behavior.” Reverend Green had now been backed all the way up to the podium and had nowhere else to go.

Sarah couldn’t take her eyes away from the scene unfolding up front. Mary was clearly terrified, rooted to the spot and unable to escape.

Sheriff Spooner was about eight feet away when Mr. Fitzgerald whipped his attention back around to Mary, who was now within arm’s reach. He began cursing at her and pulled his arm back as though to punch her. As he began to swing, though, Reverend Green dropped to a crouch, rolled his shoulder in toward Mr. Fitzgerald, and rushed straight into the yelling man’s midsection. Mr. Fitzgerald was not prepared for the attack and went flying backward, straight into Sheriff Spooner’s arms, who then dropped him onto the ground, twisting around until the inebriated man landed belly first. The sheriff then placed his knee onto Mr. Fitzgerald’s back.

Wanting to run to Mary, Sarah jumped up, but Samuel put a hand on her arm and restrained her. “You have to stay here,” he said firmly.

Sarah stood there, helpless, as she watched Mary take her pie and run over to her siblings. The four younger ones had already folded their blanket and gathered their few belongings. Mortification was painted across Mary’s face as clearly as anger colored the faces of her two brothers. The five of them hurriedly left the gathering. Reverend Green called the church choir up to sing again and rushed after the family. Before he could reach them, though, a young man Sarah did not recognize pulled a wagon in front of Mary and her siblings.

Tears began to seep out of Sarah’s eyes as she watched the scene continue to unfold. Mary’s brothers looked ready to fight. The young man on the wagon was not wearing a blue bandana, and Sarah did not know if he had been at the church or simply driving by.

Reverend Green finally caught up to the family. Sarah could see him speaking to Mary and to the young man from the wagon, who couldn’t have been more than nineteen or twenty years old.

As she watched them continue to talk, she saw Mayor Smith approach the group as well. It appeared most of the people on the church lawn had returned their attention to the front of the crowd. The choir was belting out a song as loudly as they could, probably hoping to cover up the different commotions that were still carrying on. Riveted in place, though, Sarah couldn’t tear her eyes away from Mary.

The Fitzgerald kids all climbed up into the wagon. The young man got in as well and pulled away before Mayor Smith reached them. Reverend Green the mayor stood together for a spell before both made the move to return to the church crowd.

Sarah’s hand went to her throat as she imagined what that must have been like for Mary. Her heart went out to the girl, who had been two years behind her in school. Mary had never been overly outgoing, but she had always been nice to people. After her Ma had died when she was barely fourteen, Mary had stopped coming to school. Responsibility for cooking, cleaning, and mothering the entire family had fallen to her ever since then. She was about the only person to whom those two brothers of hers showed any respect.

Chapter Ten

“I had no idea,” Sarah said to no one in particular.

“About what?” asked Samuel.

Reverend Green chose that moment to stop the choir and announce the day’s festivities had concluded. The remaining contests and competitions would be completed next Sunday after church. He thanked everyone for coming out today and enjoying the food and fellowship. It was almost a relief to have the whole affair called to an end, as the crowd had definitely abandoned the festive mood.

“About what?” Samuel repeated.

“I had no idea how little I know my neighbors. I thought I knew the people in Larkspur, but in actual fact, I have no idea what is going on in their lives and hearts,” Sarah answered him. “Mrs. Jones is considering remarriage. It never occurred to me she might be lonely. Or Sally, for that matter. And I certainly never realized what an unkind man Mr. Fitzgerald was. I attended school with Mary and her brothers and sisters, and I never realized how bad life at home was for them. He was going to hit her, for pity’s sake.”

Samuel gave her a measured look and then asked, “Why do you think you don’t know your neighbors better?”

Sarah scanned his face, “My own life, my job, my family, my friends – that’s all I think I’ve ever cared about. Truth be told, I’ve never bothered to look beyond my own little world. I’ve been terribly selfish and, what’s more, didn’t even realize it.”

Samuel’s expression was nothing but kindness as he considered Sarah and said softly, “It’s a good thing you’ve figured this out now. Can you imagine how many regrets you would have if you hadn’t worked this out until you were fifty years old? God’s power is mighty enough to help you see people the way He wants you to see them. I reckon when God looks at people, He doesn’t look skin deep. He looks soul deep. We could all stand to be more like that.”

“I have so much to ask forgiveness for,” Sarah replied, sadness still in her voice.

“Of course you do,” Samuel said easily. “We all do. You’re not the only one who gets it wrong. All of us fall short. You have a teachable heart, though. God is teaching you things about yourself, and you are listening to Him. Recognizing the things about yourself you want to change is great. It won’t do you any good, though, to be so down on yourself that you end up being no use to God. That’s nothing but a different kind of selfishness.”

“How can that be selfishness?” asked Sarah.

“If all you think about is how awful you are, then you’re still only thinking about yourself. Your focus is still wholly on you. You can’t fall into that trap. Trust me. It’s an ugly place to be.” Having said that, Samuel winked at Sarah and directed his attention to Mayor Smith, who was approaching.

“Samuel,” the mayor said. “Go get the buggy ready. I’ll stay with everyone for now.”

With a nod, Samuel headed off to the family’s buggy. Getting it ready would be no small task. Sarah could see it was hemmed in on every side by other wagons and conveyances.

“Well,” Mayor Smith said, “today did not exactly go as planned.”

Minnie linked her arms with Sarah and announced, “We are going to go visit Mary tomorrow when Sarah gets off work.”

Sarah shot a look of relief at Minnie. That’s exactly what she’d wanted to do, but she was feeling too timid by far and probably would never have spoken up.

Mayor Smith nodded sadly at the girls and said, “I think that’s a fine idea. Pack a basket with provisions but don’t overdo it. The family has their pride. Your mother will help you with that. We’ll see if Samuel can accompany you. I don’t want you going out there alone. And I don’t want you going out there at all if Mr. Fitzgerald has returned home. So we’ll want to make sure he’s still in jail before you make such a trip.”

“Yes, sir,” Minnie said pertly.

****

Monday morning came all too soon, and Sarah headed off to work escorted by Samuel. “You have a fine mind,” she told him as they walked.

“What makes you say that?” he spoke curiously.

“We’ve talked about a lot of different things in the time I’ve known you, but yesterday was the first time we’d ever talked of spiritual things. I am fascinated by the way you think about God and how you relate to Him. It’s different than anything I’ve seen before.”

“Different isn’t always bad,” Samuel said conversationally.

“No, not at all. I am finding that sometimes different is good. Getting stuck in a certain way of doing or thinking seems to be quite easy. It’s easy for me, anyway,” she added.

“Sometimes we do things out of habit, and sometimes we do things out of commitment, right?” asked Samuel. Sarah nodded, and he continued, “When we do something solely out of habit, then we need to ask ourselves why we got into the habit in the first place. Do we pray at mealtime because it’s a habit we’re used to, or do we pray at mealtime because we love God and want to thank Him for all He’s given us?”

Samuel paused to help Sarah down off of the boardwalk so they could walk the last little dirt stretch to the stage office.

“If we’re in the habit of praying because we love God, that’s one thing. But sometimes we get into a habit of doing something – even something that’s good and right – and then we forget why we wanted that thing – whatever it is – to be a habit in the first place. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” said Sarah. “It’s okay if our heart is in the right place. If we are doing something habitually, though, and don’t even remember why we got into the habit to begin with, then we need to stop and think about what we’re doing.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” said Samuel cheerily.

****

When Sarah and Samuel arrived back at the mayor’s house that evening, they learned Minnie had taken ill during the day. She had a fever and a terrible stomach upset. Mrs. Smith shooed Sarah and Samuel out the door, telling them to go ahead and take the trip out to the Fitzgerald farm. So, loaded down with a large crate of miscellaneous foodstuffs and other surprises, Samuel took the mayor’s buggy and escorted Sarah.

As they pulled up to the house, it became apparent the farm had long been neglected. Paint was badly peeled, the front porch sagged, the fields were nowhere near ready for planting, and the mule and goat penned outside the barn resembled scarecrows that a strong wind could blow over.

Sarah still felt guilty about not having reached out to Mary before, but she was not letting guilt be her motivator today. She had spent a long time the night before talking things over with God, and she felt certain this was a change He wanted to see in her – a willingness to put others first even when it made her uncomfortable or was a situation she would rather avoid.

Samuel helped Sarah down from the buggy and followed her up the steps. Knocking on the door garnered no answer. The door didn’t appear to be latched, but Sarah wasn’t sure they should barge in.

Samuel offered, “Let me go take a look out in the barn and see if anyone is out there, okay? Wait right here.” With that, he loped off toward the barn. Sarah didn’t want to stay on the front porch, though, so she walked around to the back of the house to take a look around. She saw a large garden that was obviously well cared for next to laundry hanging on a line. Upon closer inspection, Sarah could see the laundry was dry and ready to come down.

A few minutes later, Sarah heard Samuel calling her name. “Around back!” she yelled back. Samuel walked quickly around the edge of the house but stopped in his tracks when he saw Sarah.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

Sarah had already taken half of the laundry down, folded it, and placed it in the basket she’d found nearby. Samuel shook his head in resignation and helped Sarah get the remainder of the laundry down. Sarah had no intention of leaving until she had done something for this family.

Working together, the two took care of the laundry in quick order. Samuel carried the basket back around to the front porch where he tried the front door. The door opened easily.

“It’s not uncommon for people to leave their doors unlocked around here,” Sarah told him when he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I understand, Sarah, but this door doesn’t even have a lock on it. They couldn’t lock it if they wanted to.”

Since her father passed away, Sarah always made sure to lock her doors and latch her windows when she went to bed at night. The mayor had given her strict instructions for her safety, and she had promised him she would do those things. She understood people not locking their doors when they trusted their neighbors, but she couldn’t fathom a door not even having a lock on it.

When they stepped into the house, Sarah was surprised by what she saw. Everything surrounding her was neat and tidy. The wallpaper was peeling, and the furniture was older than time itself, but everything was clean. There was no dirt or clutter or filth like one might have expected based on the outer condition of the farm. Sarah nodded her approval.

“Mary takes good care of her home, doesn’t she?”

Samuel grunted in reply, still not convinced nobody was home.

“Put the basket here,” Sarah said, indicating the large kitchen table. Samuel set the basket down and then waved Sarah toward the door.

“Not yet. You have to bring the crate in.”

Mrs. Smith had gone above and beyond. Packing a mere basket of goods for the family would have been too simple. Instead, she had packed an entire crate, and Sarah couldn’t have been more thrilled. It might have been a hard sell had Mary been there. Pride sometimes made people act in ways not in their own best interest. With no one there, though, no one could reject the gift.

Having retrieved it from the buggy, Samuel set the crate on the table and said, “Okay, let’s go.”

He seemed impatient, and Sarah couldn’t figure out why.

“Not yet, please?”

When Samuel simply stood there considering her with a raised eyebrow, she continued, “I want to empty the crate. Mary might be tempted to not accept some of the gifts, but if they’re all laid out on the table when the family comes home, then everyone will see them and she’ll have no choice but to accept them. And I kind of wanted to start dinner for the family.”

****

Samuel stared into Sarah’s pleading eyes and didn’t have the heart to crush her spirit by telling her no. Worry that someone might come home and be upset to find them in the house uninvited wouldn’t leave him. He had no desire to be on the business end of somebody’s rifle should that happen. Sarah so badly wanted to do something nice for this family, though, and he did not want to squelch the enthusiasm she was showing. In an uneasy position, Samuel was glad law enforcement was no longer a part of his daily life. Objectivity was not easy to achieve when the people involved were those who you held close to your heart.

“Here’s the thing,” Samuel began. Sarah’s expression shouted her certainty that she wouldn’t like what he was going to say. “You cannot start dinner for the family.” When Sarah started to protest, he held up his hand. “Hear me out.” Sarah crossed her arms over her chest and gave him quite a stare. He continued, “You don’t know how this family has been surviving. If you brought them a whole side of bacon and decided to make beans and bacon, you might think it was okay to put the whole side of bacon in. For this family, though, an entire side of bacon could be two weeks’ worth of meat. You don’t know their situation, and you need to let them best decide how to use the provisions Mrs. Smith sent. Secondly, if you fix dinner, you will want to leave it warming on the stove or in the oven, and we can’t take such a risk. We don’t know when somebody will be back, and you run the risk of the food getting ruined or, even worse, a fire starting.”

As Samuel’s words got through to Sarah, she uncrossed her arms and instead clutched her hands together in front of her.

“Can I at least unpack the crate?”

“Don’t you think it would be more fun to let them unpack it? It would be a lot like Christmas, right? And with that big of a family, it’s unlikely Mary would be able to hide the crate or convince all of her siblings it can’t be accepted. Besides, if they don’t know where it came from…” Samuel intentionally let the sentence hang.

Sarah’s eyes lit up. “If they don’t know where it came from, they can’t return it, now can they?”

Glancing around the room as though looking for something specific, Sarah moved quickly toward the crate and removed the lid. She tore off a piece of paper from the protective wrapper covering a jar of jam and circled to face Samuel. “Can you fetch my reticule for me please?”

Still in a hurry to get Sarah out of there before any trouble arose, Samuel hurried out to the buggy and grabbed her reticule. When he returned with it, she quickly dug through until she triumphantly pulled out a pencil. “Never leave home without it!” she declared. Sarah made quick order of the note and tucked it under the edge of the crate where it could be clearly seen and would not be likely to blow away.

Samuel glanced at the note before shepherding Sarah toward the door. Please accept this gift and know you are in our prayers was all she had written. He hoped the struggling family accepted the gift in the spirit it was intended.

After ushering Sarah out the door, Samuel stood in the threshold of the house with his hand on the door. He pivoted to look at the house, including the folded laundry and the crate of goods. Samuel had no proof to support it, but he had the oddest feeling someone could hear them.

“God be with you,” he spoke into the silent house. Then, shaking his head at his own fanciful notion, he closed the door firmly and moved to help Sarah up into the buggy.

Chapter Eleven

Samuel and Sarah rode back into town in relative quiet. Lush trees coming to life with spring lined this stretch of road. The sky was a brilliant bright blue. A light breeze kept the air from getting stale or overly hot. When they were about halfway to town, Sarah shifted to Samuel and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Samuel answered.

“It’s rather personal, and you might find it intrusive. I should tell you that up front.”

“How about this?” Samuel spoke amiably. “You ask me, and if I find I don’t wish to answer, I will tell you so.”

“Okay,” Sarah answered softly. She was quiet for a moment. Samuel figured she was gathering her thoughts, which couldn’t have been truer. “There seem to be a lot of things about you I don’t know, a lot of unanswered questions, if you will. Would you say this is an accurate statement?”

Not sure where she was going with this, Samuel felt he needed to be candid. “Yes, I would say that’s accurate.”

“Can you tell me why it is you won’t tell me more about yourself? You explained why you can’t tell me about your business. I get this feeling, though, that there’s more to you. I’m not sure if that makes sense.”

“I think I understand, and I’ll do the best I can to answer,” Samuel uttered somberly. “The mayor asked me to keep my business to myself for the time being. You already know that. There is also something in my past that I’ve not shared. Even though it has nothing to do with my business here, it could cause problems for the town right now. It’s not anything illegal or nefarious. Some things, though, no matter how innocent, might exacerbate the current situation in Larkspur. If it weren’t for this whole Eligible Female business, it wouldn’t be an issue. With so many unknown people in town, though, I need to keep some things private for the safety of John and Ida as well as others.”

“Does the mayor know all of these things you won’t tell me about?”

“Yes. I am not a secretive or dishonest person by nature. Mayor Smith knows about my business here as well as the things in my past which could potentially cause problems. I haven’t kept any secrets from him.”

Samuel took his eyes from the road and let them settle on Sarah for a moment, concerned her feelings might be hurt because he had told the mayor things he had not told her. The look on her face was open, though, showing no hurt. Relief flowed through him. It appeared Miss Sarah Jenkins had been doing some growing up. Samuel’s heart swelled with pride in the beautiful enchanting woman sitting next to him.

Some women would be satisfied with who they were and would have no desire to better themselves. Not Sarah, though. She truly wanted to be the woman God desired her to be. Without a doubt, she was an exceptional woman. Samuel knew he was well beyond the point at which he could change the state of his affections. Watching the changes in Sarah, witnessing her desire to grow and to confront things about herself that she did not like, knowing she desired to be less inflexible in her habits and thoughts… if he had been at all hesitant about his feelings for Sarah, watching these changes in her had unquestionably sealed the fate of his heart.

“Will you ever tell me about your past and what you are doing here?”

“Absolutely,” was Samuel’s emphatic answer. “Sarah,” he said, glancing over at her to make eye contact before returning his eyes to road ahead. “I care about you, and I want you to have a chance to get to know me without any secrets so you can decide if you care about me, too. I have not pressed my suit because I know there is a lot left unsaid between us right now. As soon as the mayor gives me the okay, though, I will come courting, and I will tell you everything you want to know.”

A blush rose up in Sarah’s cheeks at Samuel’s words. “C-courting?” she asked.

Samuel slowed the horses to a stop so he could turn to Sarah and give her his full attention. “I am a man of my word, and the only reason I haven’t answered all your questions is because I gave my word. You deserve to know where I stand, though, even if I can’t tell you everything yet. Would you be opposed to my courting you?”

He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until Sarah gave him a shy smile. As Samuel pulled in a long draught of air, Sarah said softly, “I would like that.”

“Good,” was the only word Samuel could get past his lips, and the effort it took to get that single word out was enough put quite a strain on him. Sweat trickled down his back as he held himself still, resisting the urge to lean in closer to the woman sitting beside him. He wanted to kiss Sarah more than he’d ever thought possible. She was stunning and Samuel knew for sure and certain he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side for all his days.

The trust radiating from her eyes stopped Samuel from taking liberties he knew he shouldn’t. Much as he felt himself being pulled to those beautiful smiling lips, Samuel resisted. It took all of his willpower, all of his self-control, but resist he did. There was a lot about him Sarah did not know. Kissing her would be amazing. An electric current thrummed through him at the thought of such a shared intimacy. Until he could tell Sarah everything, though, he needed to hold back.

When he kissed her for the first time, he planned on it being the kind of kiss that staked his claim for all time. He didn’t feel he could do that, though, until she knew everything there was to know about him. Then, if she was still interested in spending time with him or being courted by him, he would kiss her for all he was worth. And if it ended up that he couldn’t persuade her with words, then a couple of honest, well-placed kisses would have to do the job for him.

With a firm nod of admonition directed at himself, Samuel put the buggy in motion again. The sooner they got back into town, the safer it would be for both him and Sarah. Samuel had always thought of himself as a man with above average self-control. Sitting in the buggy with Sarah, outside the realm of prying eyes, though, was melting his self control faster than ice cream in July. His brain was turning to mush, to boot. He needed to get some distance between them so he would stop thinking about kissing her. As long as they remained in the buggy together, he was certain kissing Sarah would be the only thing on his mind.

****

Sarah was relieved when Samuel put the buggy into motion again. The look in his eyes had been… intense. Every bone in her body had begun to soften and melt. His gaze, hot against her skin, would have sent her up in smoke had it lasted much longer, she was sure. She didn’t know how to explain the sensations coursing through her, but she knew one thing for sure – Reverend Green had never mentioned feeling like THAT when he’d preached on propriety!

****

The remainder of the week moved by in quick order. Sally, the maker of the triple layer chocolate cake, was staying with the Peterson family. Word in town was that the young man who won her cake at the auction had been by to visit every evening. Sarah estimated he was about twenty years younger than Sally. Men often married women significantly younger than them, of course, so it shouldn’t matter. It seemed odd, though, for a young man to take an interest in a woman that much older than he. More than a few eyebrows in town had been raised as the gossip was passed from one person to the next.

As she stood in the stage office Thursday morning looking at the flood of mail that had been sorted by age and education, Sarah began to question the amount of work she’d put into it. Not one woman from Larkspur had been by to look at the letters, and it was clear from the smile she’d seen on Sally’s face the day before that age did not have as much impact on successful matches as Sarah had first thought.

As Sarah was mulling over the idea of mismatched ages in relationships, she heard the door behind her open. Knowing the Martinez boys had stayed home to help their dad today, Sarah shifted around to greet her customer. Alice Jones, the older woman whose cobbler Samuel had bid on, stood there.

“Mrs. Jones, it’s so nice to see you today. What can I do for you?”

Mrs. Jones glanced over to where Samuel sat, engrossed in a newspaper, and then back at Sarah. She approached the counter and asked softly, “Might I have a word with you in private?”

Before Sarah could even think of a reason to ask Samuel to leave, the man stood up and yawned. “I’m going to fall asleep if I sit here any longer. Think I’ll go take a walk about outside and stretch my legs. The fresh air will do me good.” He was out the door as fast as if Mrs. Jones and Sarah had begun discussing what it was like to birth a baby.

Sarah chuckled and said to Mrs. Jones, “Well, I guess that takes care of that. What can I do for you today, ma’am?”

Mrs. Jones gave Sarah a steady look square in the eyes and asked, “Can I count on you to keep this conversation confidential?”

“Yes, ma’am, absolutely.” Sarah thought for a second and then added, “Unless you are telling me you are about to do something illegal. Then I’d have to tell the sheriff. And if you confess to murder or robbery, I’d have to tell him about that too.” Seeing impatience flair on Mrs. Jones’ face, Sarah reigned herself in. “Sorry. I don’t know what you’re going to say, so I’m afraid to promise in case it’s a promise I can’t keep. I’m overthinking again. Please forgive me. Go ahead. What can I do for you?”

“Sometimes I think your mind is simply too big for this small town, Sarah.” Shaking her head, Mrs. Jones continued, “A nice gentleman bought my cobbler at the auction. The thing is, we didn’t suit well.”

Sarah remained quiet, her hands folded and resting on the countertop, waiting for Mrs. Jones to continue.

“He was a perfect gentleman and kind, too.” Mrs. Jones seemed to be searching for the right words in vain.

Sarah watched Mrs. Jones and tried to decipher what the woman was not saying. She realized there could only be one reason why the older woman would come all the way to the stage office to tell her, someone she normally spoke to only in passing, about her romantic woes. Trying to be as professional as possible to save them both from embarrassment, Sarah asked, “Are you here about the Eligible Female letters?”

When Mrs. Jones nodded, Sarah continued, “I have the letters divided by approximate age of the writer and education level – some men are clearly college educated, and others are clearly not. If you can tell me which group you would like to look at, I can let you go through the letters. There are in truth hundreds of letters.”

Suddenly looking panicked, Mrs. Jones whispered, “I don’t want to read all of those letters with men telling personal things. I only want a couple of letters.” Leaning on the counter in a way that would probably not be considered ladylike, Mrs. Jones asked, “Could you go through the letters for me? You know me well enough. Pick out five letters you think might be of interest to me, and then I can look over those and decide who to write to.”

Several days had already passed since Sarah had reached her fill of reading letters. She dreaded the idea of going through any of the letters again. The expression on her face must have relayed some of her feelings to the woman standing across from her, for Mrs. Jones stood tall again and said, “It’s okay Sarah. Never mind. I… I had a nice time on Sunday, and even though we did not suit well for romance, it made me realize how lonely I’ve been. Made me think it might be nice to have someone to share my life with again. Ain’t nothing but a silly notion. I am neither young nor genteel. No one would be interested in marriage to someone like me.”

Sarah’s heart sank and her stomach rose. “No, Mrs. Jones, please don’t say such a thing! You are a wonderful person with so much to offer, and there are many truly kind men in these letters. I’ve read so many letters that I reacted badly when you asked. Please forgive me. It would be an honor to go through and select some letters for you. I will have them by tomorrow. Come back by, and I will have five letters for you to choose from. I promise.”

Since Sarah had such a short time ago gone on about not wanting to make promises she couldn’t keep, Alice Jones raised an eyebrow at the young woman before her. “Sarah, you don’t have to. It truly is okay.”

“Please let me do this for you, Mrs. Jones. I have read the hearts of many men in the pages of these letters, and I know there are several in there that would be suitable for you. There are good, kind men to choose from who truly seem sincere in their desire to find someone with whom to share their lives. A lot of them are lonely, and they deserve a chance to find someone, too, I think. So much attention has been shown to all the men who arrived in town here that the men who wrote these letters haven’t even had a chance.”

Mrs. Jones nodded her permission and said, “Very well, Sarah, and thank you. Can we keep this quiet, though?” Sarah nodded, and the older woman added, “I’d like the men to be near my age if possible, but I don’t care about education, although I’m sure the educated men would not be interested in the likes of me.”

****

Sarah was waving goodbye to Mrs. Jones as Samuel opened the door to enter the office. Tipping his hat, he held the door for Mrs. Jones. He then returned to his chair and newspaper. Getting comfortable in his seat, Samuel noticed Sarah staring at him. “Did you need something?” he asked amiably.

Looking flustered, Sarah asked him if he could possibly move the chair outside and sit out on the stage platform for the afternoon. “I could, but why would I?” Samuel asked.

Sarah stammered, “I…I need you to.” Staring at him defiantly, she added, “Don’t ask me why.”

Not used to having the tables turned on him like this, Samuel said, “I thought I was the one keeping secrets.” When Sarah’s chin raised a notch higher in the air, Samuel conceded victory to her. “Alright then. I shall sit out on the platform. Will that be acceptable?” The look of relief on Sarah’s face was almost comical as she swiftly nodded. “You’re not used to confrontation, are you?” Samuel asked with a smile.

“No, not really. Was I terribly rude?”

“Not at all,” Samuel answered with a laugh. Then he added, “Do me a favor, will you?”

“Of course.”

“If the pot runs dry, come get me so I can make the coffee.” Samuel ducked out the door, chair and newspaper in hand, barely dodging the crumbled up ball of paper Sarah launched at him.

Once settled on the platform, Samuel surreptitiously watched Sarah through the front window of the stage office. He didn’t mean to stare. He sincerely intended to continue reading the newspaper. The opportunity to watch her without making her self-conscious, though, was too much to ignore. He watched as Sarah moved something heavy behind the counter – the crate of letters, he assumed. Then Samuel followed her with his eyes as she folded her hands and bowed her head. She stood there like that for quite some time. She had to be praying for God’s wisdom about the letters.

When Sarah settled down into a chair with a handful of letters and Samuel could only catch sight of the top of her head, he decided to return his attention back to his newspaper. That didn’t stop his eyes from occasionally – frequently, he corrected himself – straying back to Sarah’s form.

****

As the day wore on, Sarah read through letter after letter for Mrs. Jones. Knowing the older woman was a somewhat reserved person, Sarah tried to pick men she felt would suit well with that. Sarah discarded several men who seemed to be a little too open about their feelings and wanting to find love. She didn’t think such letters would garner much respect from Mrs. Jones. Much as before, some of the letters made Sarah laugh, some made her sad and others made her wonder what would prompt someone to write such things. Sarah was bewildered as she looked over the letter presently in her hands.

Dear Ma’am,

I am seeking a wife and would like to make your acquaintance. I am a widower. My first wife died giving birth to our child. The baby died too. My next wife died of pneumonia during a bad winter. The next wife plumb went crazy and took her own life. I decided after that not to get married anymore, but then I saw your ad and thought maybe this time it would work out.

While Sarah didn’t claim to know all there was to know about relationships, she was fairly certain telling a woman each of his previous wives had died was not the best way for a man to start a courtship. Shaking her head, she returned the letter to its envelope. She would not be passing that one on to Mrs. Jones.

****

Saturday morning dawned bright and warm. Sarah bounded down the stairs, wanting to catch Mayor Smith before he left. She burst into the dining room with little thought for decorum only to find the mayor kissing his wife. Embarrassed from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair, Sarah quickly backed out of the room. The two must get very little privacy, she realized, especially since she’d moved in with them. Even though her presence was temporary, she was sure it had to feel inconvenient to the couple at times.

“Come sit down and join us for breakfast,” said the mayor. “I’d like to have a word with you.”

Sarah meekly re-entered the room and sat down.

“You know you have no reason to be embarrassed,” said the mayor kindly, his eyes on Sarah.

She kept her eyes downcast and said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt such a private moment.”

When the mayor burst out laughing, Sarah gawked at him, surprised he would laugh at her discomfort. She saw true mirth in the mayor’s eyes and was so dumbfounded she could do little more than nod as Mrs. Smith handed her a cup of coffee.

“Sarah, dear,” began the mayor, “you might not realize this, but married people kiss all the time.”

When Sarah’s blush intensified, the mayor forged ahead. “If your mother had lived, I’m sure you would have walked in on many such private moments between your parents, and then you would know it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” In a conspiratorial whisper, the mayor added, “It’s a normal part of married life.”

She was still uncomfortable, but Sarah was finally able to raise her eyes to look at the mayor. Instead of laughter, she saw sympathy in his eyes.

“We don’t always realize what our children miss out on when they lose a parent. Some of the normal ways between husband and wife, for example, are things you don’t know about because, quite simply, you never got a chance to witness it. That’s okay, and certainly you want to respect a couple’s privacy, but when you do accidentally walk in on a husband and wife sharing a kiss, it’s okay. There is nothing shameful in Mrs. Smith and I kissing one another, but when you act embarrassed by our behavior, it seems that you find something shameful in our behavior. Does this make sense?”

“I never thought of it that way.” After a brief pause, Sarah added, “I don’t know if I can choose not to be embarrassed, though. Some things embarrass me. I can’t help it.”

“I understand perfectly,” said Mrs. Smith as she sat down at the table with her husband and Sarah. “The difference between behavior that is ladylike and that which is not, though, is in your reaction. You can be embarrassed without acting like it, right? Control your reaction, and, even if you are embarrassed, you will manage to behave in a way that does not cause further embarrassment.” Mrs. Smith studied Sarah until the young woman acknowledged her words.

“Yes Ma’am, I think I understand,” Sarah said.

Mrs. Smith’s words did make sense, and she did tend to get skittish in situations that made her uncomfortable. She had this very week been committing those kinds of behaviors to God and asking for His help to overcome those selfsame problems.

Sarah said, “Thank you,” nodding at both the mayor and his wife.

“Someday, Sarah, you will be married. If you choose your husband well, I wager you will find it perfectly acceptable to kiss him at the breakfast table.” Sarah blushed at the mayor’s good-humored words. In truth, when she contemplated the notion of kissing, Samuel’s face was the only one that came to mind. Such thoughts, when she let her mind wander there, were generally accompanied by a light case of the collywobbles, a racing pulse and weak knees.

The mayor blessed the meal, and the three began eating. Minnie was feeling much better but had stayed up late reading a book the night before and was still asleep. Sarah had rushed down the stairs because she wanted to ask the mayor something, but they had all gotten sidetracked because of how she had reacted to the mayor kissing his wife. Shaking her head, Sarah ruefully considered her own folly.

“So tell me, Sarah, what do you think of Minnie going off to college?” The mayor’s question was asked lightly, but Sarah was sure he wasn’t making casual conversation. The man sitting at the table with her was not one prone to idle chit chat.

“I think it is the best thing for her. Minnie’s mind is always at work. Her mind longs to do great things, and the normal womanly pursuits here in Larkspur don’t quite seem to be enough for her. This has led her into trouble more than once. She always means well, but I think it would do her a world of good to experience some of the bigger things in this world,” Sarah spoke confidently.

While Minnie’s announcement had been a shock at first, Sarah had given it some thought and truly believed it was the right choice for her friend.

“What if she does not find what she is looking for at college?” asked the mayor.

Looking at husband and wife, Sarah put down her fork and took a sip of coffee as she gathered her thoughts. She loved these people dearly and so wanted to impress them with her maturity.

“I believe all decisions should be made prayerfully. If, prayerfully, everyone agrees college is the right thing for Minnie, then whether it turns out the way we expect it to or not, she has to go. We all need to learn to submit to God’s will, even when we don’t understand it or when the outcome is uncertain.”

“Well said, Sarah,” the mayor’s voice rang with approval. “I still think of you and Minnie in pigtails with dolls in hand, but you aren’t a child any longer, are you? We’re going to have to start thinking of you as an adult before too much longer.”” A smile and wink accompanied the mayor’s words.

The three ate in silence for a few moments before Sarah ventured, “Could I borrow the buggy today?”

“What are your plans?” asked the mayor.

Sarah explained that she would like to take another trip out to the Fitzgerald farm to try to speak with Mary and to make sure the kids were all okay.

“I’m afraid not,” said the mayor firmly. “Mr. Fitzgerald is back at home, and I cannot have you going out there.”

Sarah was daunted at the thought of Mr. Fitzgerald being out there. Perhaps if Samuel was to accompany her?

She began to voice the question when the mayor raised his hand, “Sarah, not even with Samuel, okay? There are some things going on that you don’t know about, and I need you to trust me on this. The sheriff is making sure to patrol out by their farm, and deputies are checking in now and again on the family. So far everything is fine, but I cannot let you go out there.”

“But,” began Sarah.

Before she could even complete the thought, the mayor held up his hand again to stall her and firmly declared, “You can ask me about it again next week, but until then, not another word on the subject, okay? You need to trust me and respect my judgment on the matter.”

“Yes, sir,” was Sarah’s less than enthusiastic response. Sarah felt more than a little disgruntled. In what would have been considered a pout had she been a younger woman, Sarah crossed her arms. I am tired of the men in my life telling me they can’t tell me anything! So much for being humble and respectful. Sarah barely restrained herself from stomping her foot.

Chapter Twelve

Sunday looked to be another lovely day. After last week’s scene with Mr. Fitzgerald, though, it was hard not to be skittish about the upcoming events. The same sense of excitement and anticipation that captured Sarah’s imagination last week was absent this week as the town prepared for the picnic after church.

Determined not to be the wet blanket in their party, Sarah put on a smiling face and selected an attractive dress to wear. She chose a moss green dress with small blue flowers on it. It wasn’t her newest dress, but she liked the way it made her eyes stand out. Compliments always followed whenever she wore it. As a boon, since the dress wasn’t new, she didn’t mind sitting on the ground in it.

Sarah stopped often during the morning to offer up a prayer on behalf of the Fitzgerald family. She knew the mayor was a man of his word, and if he said the sheriff was keeping a close watch, then she believed him. Nonetheless, her heart longed to reach out to Mary Fitzgerald, and Sarah felt hemmed in by the constraints of being a woman.

The Smith family and Sarah headed off to church after breakfast. They had a quilt to sit on, their plates and utensils, and the food they were bringing for the picnic. Sarah noticed Mayor and Mrs. Smith also seemed a bit more somber this morning. Minnie chatted on happily, talking about different schools she was considering. She liked the sound of Vassar with its high educational standards, but New York seemed so far away. Lindenwood College for Women sounded lovely and was closer, being in Missouri, but it was still rather small, and she wasn’t sure it would challenge her the way she wanted. Mills Seminary was in San Francisco and sounded wonderfully exciting.

As they pulled up to the church, Mr. Smith helped the ladies down from the buggy. He then reminded them a deputy was assigned to them for today’s picnic and they needed to do much as they had the week prior.

“Stay out of the fracas as much as possible.” Then, turning to Sarah, he added, “Samuel will not be your deputy today. He’s been assigned elsewhere. You’ll be in good hands, though, so don’t worry.”

Sarah wasn’t certain what to make of Samuel’s being assigned elsewhere. She wondered if he would be watching another family or protecting another single young woman, an Eligible Female perhaps? Though she tried to prevent it, jealousy surged through her midsection followed by a flurry of butterflies doing somersaults. Minnie took Sarah’s hand, and the two followed Mayor and Mrs. Smith into church.

Sarah heard nary a word of Reverend Green’s message this day. She desperately wanted to turn around and look for Samuel, but as they were sitting toward the front of the sanctuary, it would not be at all fitting for her to sit there craning her neck around to see everyone behind her. Even if she found herself unable to pay any attention to the sermon, she knew better than to cause a distraction for everybody else in the congregation.

When the reverend completed his message, everyone rose to sing “Just As I Am.” Once the hymn was over, families exited outside.

Young Arty Paulson stepped up to give Mrs. Smith a hand at the bottom of the church steps. “Hello, Ladies. I’ll be dining with you today per the sheriff’s request. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“Arthur Paulson, as I live and breathe, you must have grown a foot since I last saw you,” said Mrs. Smith amiably.

“Yes, ma’am” The young man blushed and bobbed his head. “I did have a bit of a growth spurt there. My ma about gave up keeping me in pants that fit.”

“Arty, it’s nice of you to join us. Did you set our blanket and basket out anywhere in particular?” asked Sarah.

“Oh yes, Miss Sarah. Mr. Livingston gave me instructions on where to put you and how to stay at attention. I’m new to being a deputy, so I was glad for the direction. I want to do right by the sheriff. It was awful kind of him to give me this job. It don’t pay much, but I’ve been wanting to be a deputy for as long as I can remember.”

With that, Arty led the ladies over to where their quilt was spread. It was exactly where Samuel had placed it last week. Minnie busied herself getting out their plates, and then the foursome headed up to the tables for food.

Unlike last week when everyone was content to take their time and wile the afternoon away with idle conversation, Sarah felt a sense of urgency in the air this week. She wanted to be done with the niceties of church and back at home as quickly as possible. Home. Sarah missed her own home. It wasn’t much, but it was all hers, and she missed it. More than her home, though, she missed the feeling of safety and security she had prior to all this Eligible Female business. Would Larkspur ever return to a place that felt peaceful and calm? Praying it would be so, she longed to feel restful within her own hometown again. Sarah chuckled as she realized that she longed for what she once might have referred to as boredom.

There was less joking around this week as the family made their way through the food tables. Arty carried his own plate and piled it high like a growing young man would. Neither Minnie nor Sarah felt they needed to take extra food for him. In fact, they even remembered to give the young man two plates, and he filled both until they were heaping. As they returned back to their quilt and settled in, the ladies sat on the ground, but Arty sat on a crate he had situated there against the tree. This allowed him to sit above the ladies so he could easily see what was going on in the crowd while still allowing him the comfort of sitting down to eat.

“My goodness, Arthur, that’s quite a lot of food you have there,” Mrs. Smith said as she finally noticed what the girls had been smiling about.

“Yes, ma’am. Ma says growing boys need their food, and I’ve been growing plenty,” Arty answered with another blush.

“Tell me, Arthur, how is your family these days?” asked Mrs. Smith.

“Ma’s strong as ever and doing the best she can with all the work on the farm. My brothers help a lot. Pa took sick a few months ago. He’s doing a lot better now, and Doc says he’ll make a full recovery, but it’s been a hard couple of months. My work as a deputy lets me bring home a little extra money to help out. ‘Sides, I never did like farm work the way the rest of the family does.”

Sarah read between the lines. She’d known Arty long enough to know there was probably a lot he wasn’t saying. Things were likely worse at home than he was letting on. He got embarrassed easily and didn’t like drawing attention to himself. Knowing that about him, Sarah supposed he might be an odd fit for a deputy’s badge. Then again, maybe that would be exactly the thing he needed to give him confidence and help him not to be so shy.

“Does Doc know what’s wrong with your pa?” Sarah asked compassionately.

Arty shrugged. “He wrote a specialist in Chicago and got some information. It was a lot of big words I can’t remember none, but Doc followed that specialist’s instructions, and it helped a lot.”

Minnie spoke up, telling Arty, “I’m glad you got the deputy job and can help out. That’s got to be a real relief to your Ma. I’m sure both your folks are right proud of you.”

Arty, of course, blushed and ducked his head. “Ah, thanks Miss Minnie. That’s right nice of you to say.”

With that, the foursome returned to their meals. Sarah noticed Arty sat up taller after Minnie’s compliment, though, and began to look more like a man of the law and less like the young man she’d gone to school with.

****

While everyone was still eating, the mayor stepped up to the podium in front and began to speak. “Thank you everyone for coming out today. There are a couple of brief announcements I want to make, and then I will hand everything over to Reverend Green for the festivities. Many of you have stopped into my office to ask about whether or not we’ve found the person who placed the Eligible Female ad. I wanted to let everyone know the person who placed the ad did come forward...”

Before he could continue any further, the mayor was interrupted by the crowd. The huge uproar was completely unlike the respectful way the townspeople had acted when the mayor first told them about the ad at the town meeting.

Sarah lost her appetite as she heard people yelling out, “Who was it?” “Are they in jail?” “We want justice!” If she was this upset, Sarah knew Minnie must feel awful. A quick glance at her friend showed a ghostlike pallor.

Mrs. Smith gathered up the girls’ half-empty plates and said softly, “I think I’ll leave this for the dogs.” She went behind the tree and scraped the food off of their plates and then put some leaves over it so it wouldn’t be immediately obvious to anyone what she’d done.

Arty had moved the crate so he could stand up and lean against the tree, keeping the women and all the goings-on in his line of sight the way Samuel had taught him. Sarah could see he’d also unsnapped the strap on his holster so he could get to his gun more quickly if needed. Even with that preparation, Arty stood there, plate in hand, continuing to eat. He made such a comical sight Sarah had to smile. She had no brothers, and her dad had been a light eater, so she’d always been amazed when she’d seen how much food the boys at school could eat and how nothing ever seemed to come between them and their food.

Returning her attention to the front, she could see Mayor Smith moving his arms to motion the crowd to settle and quiet down so he could be heard again. “Everyone, I understand your desire for justice, but I need to tell you that no laws were broken.”

There was another uproar, and this time it took more time to calm. Henry, who had asked about the perpetrator at the first town meeting stood up and declared loudly, “Mayor, you promised us whoever did this would have to answer to the sheriff.” After the crowd loudly agreed, he asked, “Why are you going back on your word?”

More yelling from the crowd ensued. Finally the mayor continued, “The person who placed the ad did so innocently, not realizing the full import of what they had done. They came to me and admitted the part they had played in our town’s current predicament. The person is terribly remorseful for what has happened. I give you my word the person who placed the ad had no malicious intent and is not in cahoots with any criminals. Had the person placed the ad for the purpose of causing trouble in Larkspur, that would have been illegal, and the sheriff would be taking action against the person. As it is, though, placing the ad was simply a demonstration of bad judgment. No harm was ever intended.”

Again, the crowd yelled its displeasure. Clearly everyone wanted some form of justice. They wanted someone to pay for what was going on in their town. One man yelled, “I can’t leave my wife and daughters alone because of all the unseemly men suddenly in town, which means I can’t earn my living, and you’re going to let this person off without any punishment? Someone needs to pay!”

Sarah prayed for the hearts of the people and for the mayor as he again tried to get everyone to quiet down so he could speak. Each time the crowd got angry, it took longer and longer to get them settled.

By this time Arty had finished his lunch and was standing, back against the tree, hand resting on the butt of his revolver. Without taking his eyes off of the crowd and the mayor, he spoke, “Mrs. Smith, I need you to kindly pack up the basket and get everything ready so we can leave quickly if the need arises.” Mrs. Smith quickly gathered the last few items that remained on the blanket. All three women could see their buggy. It had already been positioned for a quick exit, should the need arise.

“Should I go put the basket in the buggy?” Sarah asked.

“Not yet. I need you all to stay close,” Arty replied.

Sarah missed Samuel and wondered where he was. She had not seen him with any other families or in the crowd at all. Arty meant well, and with each passing moment he seemed like more of a lawman and less of a young schoolboy, but Sarah still longed for the comfort she felt whenever Samuel was there.

The crowd finally began to quiet again, but the mayor still had to strain his voice to be heard above the din of those who continued muttering to one another.

“Everyone, I need you to listen to me. You are right. Justice must be served. Justice must be brought to those who deserve it, though. If anyone in this town breaks the law, including all those men who are passing through right now, then justice must be brought to bear. As a town, we need to stand together so we can fight against any criminal element that may be trying to infiltrate our town. There is someone in this town that made an innocent mistake, though. Though it was certainly a mistake made in poor judgment, it was not intended to harm and was not illegal, and to that individual I believe we must extend grace. For that reason I will not give you the name.”

The people, sounding more like a mob by the minute, began to bellow out their displeasure again. The mayor no longer waited for them to quiet down but instead exclaimed over their sound, “I urge every one of you to be vigilant so we, the citizens of Larkspur, can be strong to fight the true criminals that might come into this town now and in the future!”

All sense of festivity had left the gathering. “Let’s move now, ladies,” Arty spoke quickly.

Sarah leapt up and grabbed the basket, while Minnie picked up their quilt. The two of them, along with Mrs. Smith, hurried toward the buggy with Arty right behind them. The attention of the crowd was still on the mayor, and it didn’t appear that anybody noticed their exit. It was clear some of the people in the crowd had forgotten they were on church grounds, though, if the words being spewed were anything to go by.

The women were not even fully seated before Arty leapt up and grabbed the reins, taking them away from the gathering.

“Shouldn’t we be going faster?” asked Sarah when Arty led the horses in a slow walk.

“Samuel said to make a slow exit so we don’t draw too much attention and only to rush escape if we were in imminent danger.” Arty answered.

Knowing Arty was following instructions given by Samuel again made her feel better.

“When I get you home, ladies, I am going to need everyone to wait with me while I unhitch the horse, and then we will go into the house together. I will make sure no one is in the house and then the three of you are going down to the root cellar.”

“The root cellar?” gasped Minnie. “But why?” Sarah knew Minnie was not fond of small spaces and could understand her discomfiture over the order.

Arty gave a quick glance to Minnie before turning his eyes toward the road again. He answered, “There are some things going on you don’t know about, and you, simply put, need to do as you’re told without question. I can’t explain it right now. Don’t mean to be high-handed here, but those are the facts.”

“We trust you Arty,” said Sarah.

Trusting the young man didn’t make the situation any less bizarre, though. The root cellar. Sarah could think of no good reason for the three of them to need to retreat to the root cellar. She could only think of bad reasons, none of which made sense. A tornado couldn’t possibly be in the offing.

The foursome made their way back to the Smith house in quick order. Arty got the horse unhitched and settled. He led the women to the back door of the house and then drew his gun before entering. He reappeared at the door a short time later and quickly escorted the ladies down to the root cellar, making sure they each had a place to sit. Before they knew it, Arty was back up the stairs, leaving them in the cellar.

Sarah admired that Arty was taking his job so seriously, but she had to chuckle as he told them to open the door for no one except him. When Minnie asked her what she found so funny in this horrible situation, Sarah said, “This door doesn’t lock from the inside. We don’t actually have any say over who can get into the root cellar.”

While Sarah found this funny, it was clear Minnie did not. Her friend’s dislike of small dark spaces seemed to be affecting her sense of humor. Sarah went to sit by Minnie and said soothingly, “I’m sorry dear. I forgot how you feel about the dark. Would it help if we played a game or sang a song?”

When Arty returned to the cellar, his arms were full. His return interrupted the chorus of “Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee.”

As soon as they saw he was back, the girls stopped singing and jumped up to help with his burden. Balanced in his arms were a couple of canteens of water, more ammunition than he probably needed, some quilts, and a sack of apples. Explaining each item, he said, “I brought quilts in case anybody got cold or damp. Don’t want nobody getting sick down here. Water if you’re thirsty, and apples… well, apples because they were there, and who knows how long we’ll be down here. Might get hungry.”

With a shrug and a grin accompanying his last remark, it was clear who would likely get hungry before their time in the cellar came to a close.

Chapter Thirteen

After everyone settled back down into their seats Sarah began asking the questions on her mind. “Why do we have to hide in the cellar?”

Arty’s answer was, “All I know is I was given strict instructions, and I aim to follow them.”

“The cellar seems kind of odd, don’t you think? If someone was going to try to break into the house, we’d be sitting ducks down here. And surely the sheriff doesn’t expect anybody to break in. While the townsfolk are angry right now, I can’t see any of them doing something as violent as that.” Looking over to Mrs. Smith, she asked, “Can you?”

Before Arty could answer any of Sarah’s hurried questions, Mrs. Smith spoke up, “Sarah, dear, sometimes we have to trust, even though we don’t understand everything.”

Sarah nodded in agreement and waited for Mrs. Smith to continue. When the older woman said nothing more, Sarah could not let it rest. “That’s faith, right? Trusting and obeying even when we don’t understand?”

A smile touched Mrs. Smith’s face as she answered, “Yes, dear, though I’ve not heard it put quite that way before, I think faith is a good way to describe it. So the question of doing as Arty says is a question of whether or not you have faith in his superiors, the ones who gave him the instructions he is following.”

Sarah mulled this over for a moment and then asked Arty who had given him his orders.

Arty was happy to answer. “Sheriff Spooner appointed me to keep an eye on you three ladies. After he appointed me, Mr. Livingston pulled me aside and gave me instructions on exactly what I was supposed to do. He was thorough, even told me to remember water and extra ammunition.”

Puzzled, Sarah asked, “So, it was Samuel who told you to keep us in the cellar?”

Arty nodded and said, “Yep, sure was. Even told me I could knock you unconscious to keep you in the cellar if’n I had to.”

Shocked to her core and not entirely certain if Arty was being serious or pulling one over on her, Sarah asked, “But why? I don’t understand.” The whole thing seemed surreal to her, everything from sneaking out of the picnic to hiding in a dark cellar, let alone the part about knocking them out if needed.

Minnie was becoming more agitated. The light was dim, but everyone could hear her breathing become increasingly ragged. She was trying to keep calm and control it, but Sarah could tell Minnie was reacting badly to the situation.

“Miss Minnie,” Arty spoke up, “would you like me to light a candle? If we’ve got any down here, I’d be happy to. We need to stay down here, but we don’t have to sit in the dark if’n you don’t want to.”

In the darkness, it was unlikely that anyone had seen Minnie nod her head. Sarah, sitting close beside her, though, could feel the nod and answered for her, “Arty, yes, please, Minnie would love to have a candle lit. Perhaps that will help us all to feel better in this strange situation.”

“Here, Arthur,” said Mrs. Smith as she quickly found a candle and handed it to him with matches. Once the candle was lit, Minnie’s breathing settled into a more normal rhythm. The panic was evident on her face when the room first brightened but began to fade as the moments wore on, and the candle remained lit.

Like a dog holding onto a nice meaty bone, Sarah was not willing to let the previous topic die. “I still don’t understand why we need to be in the cellar. Can anyone tell me that?”

“Sarah,” Mrs. Smith said with iron in her voice, “you will not be told. There are issues you do not understand that we shall not get into at present. You will accept the mayor and sheriff have your best interests in mind, and you will trust that Mr. Livingston has properly instructed Arty in what to do. You will not question our deputy’s authority again, do I make myself clear?”

Mrs. Smith had never spoken to Sarah with such firmness before, and Sarah was cowed. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. Then, to Arty, she said, “I’m sorry, Arty. It wasn’t right of me to question you like that. I am cursed with a perpetual need to understand things.”

Arty nodded to acknowledge Sarah’s apology. Sarah noticed how he seemed to soak in the words of Mrs. Smith much as he had taken in Minnie’s praise earlier. He clearly appreciated being treated like a man and not a young boy. Knowing Arty was a good person, Sarah felt she needed to say more, but she wasn’t sure if she could say anything without again asking questions she’d been told not to ask.

Minnie came to Sarah’s rescue saying, “You are a fine deputy, Arty. Sarah and I have known you since we were all little tykes, though, and we both keep forgetting you are now a grown man. I think your folks should be mighty proud of the fine job you are doing.”

Before Sarah could speak up to agree with what Minnie had said, they heard gunshots. Everyone jumped. Arty rose from where he’d been sitting on the floor and turned his back to the ladies. He told them all to move so they would be against the side walls of the cellar and not in front of the door. They moved quickly. Being in town, the Smiths had a small cellar. With the cramped quarters in the cellar, there wasn’t room for all three ladies to gather on one side. Mrs. Smith stood against the wall to the left of the cellar door, and both Minnie and Sarah quickly moved to stand against the wall to the right of the door. Arty kept his position centered in front of the door, drew his weapon, and stood at the ready.

Sarah felt fear slither through her body like a snake on the water. Her stomach clenched, her heart raced, and her mind drew into sharp focus. She and Minnie held hands and stood close against each other. Gunfire sounded as though it was coming from everywhere. With the sound so great, there was no way to determine if there were shooters inside the house, outside the house, or both. The cellar caused the sound to bounce around and create confusion, making it difficult to pinpoint the source. Even knowing that, though, Sarah was certain there were many shooters, far too many.

After several minutes of shooting, the ferocity of the gunfire eased off, and soon shouting could be heard interspersed with the gunshots.

Mrs. Smith could be heard from across the small space, “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.” Minnie and Sarah both joined Mrs. Smith in reciting the Psalm.

Sarah knew reciting scripture should bring her peace or, at a minimum, calm. Fear continued to move through her, though, in waves. Even as she spoke the words of the Psalm, she began to ask God why she was so scared, why she didn’t have the fortitude both Mrs. Smith and Minnie seemed to be demonstrating. Then it suddenly struck her.

Sarah was not afraid for herself or for her companions in this cellar. She was, however, terrified for Samuel. He was up there. With a gun. As a deputy. Whatever bedlam was occurring in the town, he would no doubt be in the middle of it. Once she recognized the source of her fear, Sarah dropped to her knees and began to pray. Minnie slid down the wall beside her and hugged her tight as she petitioned the Father on Samuel’s behalf.

“Lord, I am so scared for Samuel. Please keep him safe. Please don’t let anything happen to him. Help him and all other men out there to do their jobs. Please protect the people of Larkspur. Lord, please, please, please keep Samuel safe. It’s a selfish prayer, but it’s all I can think right now. I am so scared for him. Give me the strength to be brave and to trust You, no matter the outcome.”

By the time Sarah was done praying, the sound of gunfire had completely ceased. She knew he would say no, so Sarah didn’t even bother asking Arty if they could leave the cellar. He had a job to do, and that job was to keep her and the Smith women safe, and he would do that job at all costs. Sarah had thought everyone was overreacting and that it was so silly to have put them in the cellar, but she saw it now with crystal clarity. They were in the cellar because it was under the house and had earthen walls. The rest of the house was made of wood, and there was no place in the house above where they would be safe from stray bullets. Obviously the sheriff – and Samuel – had known there was going to be a gunfight. Samuel had made sure Arty would get them to a place where they would be safe.

The foursome in the cellar waited. Many minutes had passed since the gunfire stopped. Arty never said a word, but Sarah could tell by the way he began fidgeting that he was getting impatient. Was he waiting for a signal of some sort? By his expression, Sarah could tell Arty was getting worried. He probably had much more information than she had about what was going on in town. With the look of concern on Arty’s face, Sarah’s worry for Samuel grew exponentially.

Without a watch, Sarah could not tell what time it was or how long they had been in the cellar, but as the candle burned down to almost a nub, Sarah began to believe it had been hours. When Minnie’s stomach growled loudly enough for everyone to hear it, Sarah knew for certain it had been much too long. Minnie caught the apple that Arty, with a sympathetic smile, tossed to her. Mrs. Smith got another candle out and set it next to the stub that had begun to flicker. Arty kept his post and continued to watch the door intently.

Sarah had been holding herself so tensely her muscles began to ache. The ache metamorphosed into pain, and the pain began to grow in intensity when, with a soft word to Arty, Mrs. Smith bustled over and told Sarah to sit down. Sarah shifted her position with no small amount of discomfort. Crouching on the ground now, Sarah leaned against Minnie. Mrs. Smith covered the girls with one of the quilts and then returned to her position against the opposite wall. Continuing her silent prayer vigil, Sarah kept asking God to keep Samuel safe.

As the quilt began to collect the heat from Sarah’s body and radiate it back to her, she felt lethargy begin to creep into her bones. She couldn’t imagine what she would do if anything happened to Samuel. The intensity of her feelings told her she cared for him much more than she had admitted, even to herself. Despite his secretiveness, she ached at the thought that something could have happened to him. He could have been hurt, or worse yet, killed. At the mere thought of Samuel dying, Sarah’s breath caught in her throat, and her head began to swim. Her last conscious thought was a prayer. Lord, he has so much to offer. Even if it’s not meant to be between me and Samuel, please don’t take him now. He’s the type of person who will make the world a better place. Please let him be okay.

****

Sarah woke with a start to the sound of a thousand fists banging on the cellar door. Her heart jumped into her throat, and she and Minnie staggered to their feet. As they stood, Sarah realized the cellar was distorting the sound, creating an echo that wrapped around them until it sounded like an onslaught.

“Arty, it’s me. You in there?” came the words from the other side of the cellar door.

Samuel’s voice, the one Sarah had hoped to hear, was not the source of the words coming from the other side of the door. Even Arty seemed confused.

“Sheriff, that you?”

Without answering, the sheriff replied, “Samuel sent me with a message. He said mockingbird.”

Arty jumped up and opened the door in a hurry when he heard the sheriff’s message. “We’re mighty glad to see you, sheriff. The shooting stopped a long time ago, and Mr. Livingston never came like he said he would.”

Helping the ladies up out of the cellar and into the kitchen, Sheriff Spooner spoke in a soothing voice, “Everything is under control now. Everyone involved in the robbery has been apprehended and is in jail. Some of the men who came because of the ad have since high-tailed it out of town. When they saw how quickly we dealt with the commotion and the outlaws, they took off. And good riddance.”

Mrs. Smith asked urgently, “The mayor? Where is he?”

“Over at the jail, ma’am. He’s got a long night of work ahead of him. He got a little knick in the arm, but he’s fine. Said to tell you he wouldn’t be home until after dark, but he’s taking all of tomorrow off to make it up to you.”

Mrs. Smith visibly sagged with relief at the news. “What about the church? The people at church? Are they okay?”

Sheriff Spooner nodded. “Most everyone followed instructions and made their way out to the designated location. Went real smoothly, all things considered. A couple of the men were right angry and were spoiling for a fight, but as soon as the first gunshots started sounding, they got all serious-like. Some of them took their families and fled, and some of them took up positions around the church to help defend that particular exit route from town so the church folk would have a safe escape. It was a mighty fine plan.”

Mrs. Smith appeared satisfied with the answer. Sarah, having held it in for as long as she could, blurted out, “Where’s Samuel?”

The look on Sheriff Spooner’s face sent arrows darting through Sarah’s heart. She could feel it being shredded within her chest. When he took his hat off the way men do only when they are delivering dire news, she grabbed onto Minnie for support, afraid that her legs would not hold her.

“He’s been shot. It’s bad. He’s at Doc’s now.”

Before any of them could stop her, Sarah raced out the door. “Arty, stay with her!” was shouted somewhere behind her, but she did not stop or turn around. She fled to the doctor’s office as though fire were chasing her, threatening to lick at the hem of her gown. Sarah burst into the doctor’s office only to find the waiting room empty and silent. Samuel must be in surgery, she surmised. Frantic to see him, she knew she couldn’t go crashing into the operating room.

Trying to figure out what to do, Sarah started to backpedal when she ran into Arty who, as he’d been told, had stuck with her. They exchanged an awkward “Excuse me” and “Pardon me”. It was clear from the look on his face Arty had no idea what to say. He held his hat in his hand and rolled the brim of it in every possible direction, worry engraved into the planes of his face. Sarah would have laughed at the sight of what he was doing to his poor hat if she weren’t so worried about Samuel.

Sarah was deciding she might go on through to the doctor’s inner office anyway, nice and quiet-like, when the inner door of the office opened, and Doc Billingsly stepped into the waiting room where she and Arty stood.

“How is he? Is he okay? How bad is it?” Sarah sucked in a deep breath and made herself hold it for a moment so she wouldn’t continue peppering the doctor with questions.

“I’m fine today, Sarah, and how are you?” Doc Billingsly asked Sarah with a lilt in his voice and an aged twinkle in his eyes.

Sarah knew he was trying to joke with her, but she was frozen to the spot, her hands clenched in front of her. She wanted to plead with him for answers.

“So that’s how it is, eh? Mr. Livingston has caught the fancy of our Miss Jenkins. Apparently, I need to get out more. I had no idea. Sorry to have teased you.”

“Please,” was all Sarah could utter as her heart raced and her head swam. In the back of her mind, she knew Doc Billingsly wouldn’t be carrying on if there was bad news. If it was bad, he’d get right to the point. That was the only thing keeping Sarah from an all-out panic.

Doc had just begun to speak when the outer office door opened again. In came Sheriff Spooner, Mrs. Smith, and Minnie from the street. Doc was not a man who liked to repeat himself. He waited for everyone to enter and then told them all what they were anxiously waiting to hear.

“Three bullets. Two went clean through and only hit the fleshy part of his arm. Those ones are cleaned and stitched. As long as infection doesn’t set in, they should heal fine. The third one went into his chest here,” said the doctor as he indicated his upper right chest. “I had to dig it out before I could stitch him up. It will be a few days before I know how much damage was truly done inside, but for right now it looks like our biggest problem is going to be infection. There’s no telling where those bullets had been or what they’d come into contact with before they went into his body, which is one of the reasons infection is such a risk and shouldn’t be taken lightly. He needs a lot of prayer.”

“Can I see him?” Sarah asked in a whisper.

Doc Billingsly looked at Mrs. Smith, who nodded in his direction. He then said, “I’ll take you back to see him. You can stay a short time. It’s important he get his rest. He probably won’t wake up while you are in there. And Sarah, he looks poorly. Be prepared.”

Sarah knew the doctor meant well, but she did not wish to be coddled. The second she stepped into the room, though, and saw Samuel, she knew the doctor had not said nearly enough to prepare her. Samuel was paler than she’d ever seen anyone before. Color had almost drained away from him, bled out like a watercolor with too much water and not enough paint. His skin had the appearance of wax. His lips were an unnatural shade, a hint of a likeness of the color lips ought to be. More lifeless than anything she’d ever seen, his limbs merely lay there. She should have been shocked by his naked torso, but all she could see were the bandages. Being white, the bandages should have stood out in stark contrast to his skin, but they instead blended one to another with almost no variation in shade. So pale was his skin, she almost could not tell where his body ended and the bandages began.

Regaining her sense of equilibrium, Sarah directed her attention to Doc Billingsly and asked, “What can I do to help?”

“There is nothing that can be done right now. Just pray.”

Sarah shook her head emphatically at him, “Doc, you’ve got to let me help. I will sit here and read to him, sponge water into his mouth, bathe his face if he gets a fever, anything. Please let me help. If he doesn’t make it,” she choked on the words and had to pause, taking several shallow breaths to try to push through the pain. “If he doesn’t make it,” she repeated, “I need to know I did everything I could to let him know how much I care. How could I possibly live with myself otherwise?”

The doctor’s sympathetic gaze rested on Sarah, but when he continued to say nothing, she added, “You cannot send me away.”

Doc Billingsly finally nodded. He pointed to a chair in the corner. “You can use that chair,” he said. As he left the room he added, “I’ll be back a bit later with a Bible. The good Lord is the only one standing between Samuel and death right now, the only one who can heal him from the inside out and keep infection away. If you want to read to him, that’s what you ought to be reading.” Sarah nodded her gratitude, though she wasn’t sure if the doctor saw it. He was already closing the door.

Sarah could hear voices coming through the door and assumed Doc Billingsly was telling everyone she would be staying with Samuel. A short while later she heard the outer door open and close. Glad everyone had gone, she wanted to be left alone with Samuel. He might not survive this. She understood that. If he died, her heart would never be the same. All the light and laughter she had recently discovered in life would be in danger of abandoning her as well. Leaving was not an option; she needed to be here. If something happened to Samuel, her place was by his side. They might not be married… yet… but she could not leave him and spend the rest of her life haunted by regrets.

“Samuel?” she said softly. “Samuel, can you hear me? It’s Sarah. I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere. If you need anything, ask. I’m not leaving you. You can’t die on me either. That would be ungentlemanly of you. I don’t care how hard it seems. You need to tough it out, be a man, and get through this.” Sarah heard the words coming out of her mouth and gave a watery smile. “Okay, maybe I’m not the best at pep talks, but you know what I mean. You’re going to get through this if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Make it easier on all of us. Cooperate and get better.”

Holding Samuel’s hand in her own, Sarah bent her head, resting her forehead against his clammy, limp hand. Her hair, in disarray from her run over to the doctor’s office, cascaded forward, putting a protective shield around her face. It gave her the feeling of privacy. As she sat there, tears trickled down her cheeks, and her chin quivered uncontrollably. Pain was no stranger to Sarah, but the breed of agony coiling through her soul was new, different somehow.

Sarah understood death. She had lost both parents. She also knew life went on after death and that if Samuel died, she would survive, and her life would continue forward. Even knowing all these things, her heart was frozen, stuck beating the same rhythm over and over again. Please-don’t-die-please-don’t-die-please-don’t-die.

Dear Lord, you know my heart. You know my pain and my sorrow. You know Samuel’s heart, too, far better than I do, in fact. He is such a good man, Lord. Please don’t take him. His time here isn’t done yet. He has so much to offer, so much to give.

Like a whisper on the wind, words were spoken in Sarah’s heart. As do you, my beloved child. Will you trust me?

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. She almost cried in shock as she felt, more than heard, those words. I don’t have anything to offer, Lord. I’m too timid and serious and stuck in my ways. Samuel is so much more worthy than I am. Take me instead. Let him live.

You are beautiful to me. Will you trust me? The words wrapped Sarah in a warm embrace, causing her heart to open like a tender spring flower.

Tears no longer trickled down Sarah’s cheeks; they poured down. She doubled over in the pain, gasping as sobs racked her body. Lord, how can you love me? I am nobody. I am nothing. I matter not in this world.

It wasn’t until she expressed those words to God that Sarah realized what she had thought of herself all these years, the way she had viewed her role in the world. She was neither the pretty one nor the one people sought out at gatherings. There was nothing remarkable about her. Boring and dull, someone who did her duty and made sure things got done but who had no sparkle about her when she did so – that was what Sarah saw when she looked in the mirror. Her life was merely an existence, living day to day, surviving. Her only true friend was Minnie, and even then, Sarah never openly shared her inner self with Minnie. Minnie was vivacious and always getting into trouble, and that made Sarah feel a thrill, made her feel alive, which is why she so enjoyed the girl’s company.

Have I always been so ungrateful, Lord? You’ve given me so much, yet I’ve never really taken joy in this life. I thought I was doing my duty by not complaining. That’s not enough, though, is it?

A verse came to Sarah. Long ago in church she had learned John 10:10. “The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” Is that what I’ve been doing all this time, Lord? Letting Satan steal my life? Steal my joy? Jesus came so I could have life abundantly. My life has never been more enjoyable than these past weeks since meeting Samuel. For the first time I think I understand what it could mean to have an abundant life. I’m so sorry I never understood before.

Pausing, Sarah took a couple of deep breaths. She raised her head so she could look right at Samuel’s face, his pale lifeless face. Looking directly at Samuel, Sarah spoke out loud to God, “I trust You. No matter what happens to Samuel, I trust you. I trust You with Samuel’s life, and I trust You with mine. I will not let Satan win. I won’t let him steal my joy again.”

“Bravo, Sarah,” came the soft words from behind her. Sarah spun around to see Mrs. Smith standing there. “You are growing up child.” She didn’t know what to say to her dear friend’s mother, the woman who had been so kind to her all these years, who had offered motherly advice whenever Sarah sought it, but who had never pushed her way in and tried to run roughshod over Sarah’s memories of her own mother. That wonderful, kind woman simply handed Sarah her own Bible and said, “Doc Billingsly said he was going to get a Bible for you. I thought you would appreciate having your own. Here are,” she said, indicating a basket at her feet, “some refreshments. We are going to give Samuel a little bit of time to recover from surgery, and then we will be moving him. Minnie and I are setting up a bed in the sitting room at home.”

“But..? How..? Why..?” Sarah could find no coherency to translate her battered thoughts into understandable words.

Mrs. Smith kindly interrupted, “You can’t stay here with him without a chaperone. Doc is without a nurse right now and has other patients that need him and this room. This is the best solution for everyone.”

As Mrs. Smith rounded to go, Sarah got to her feet and reached out to touch the woman’s arm. Mrs. Smith faced Sarah with gentle inquiry in her eyes. Sarah pulled the woman into her arms, giving her the tightest hug she could remember giving anybody in many years. Holding the older woman close in her arms, Sarah whispered into her ear, “Thank you. For everything. For years of everythings.”

As Sarah released Mrs. Smith, who had been holding her equally as tight, the woman backed away a half step, put her hands on either side of Sarah’s face and peered directly into her eyes. “Sarah,” she said clearly, “it has always been my pleasure. I love you, dear, and don’t you ever forget it.” Having had her say, Mrs. Smith let go of Sarah and stepped out the door, closing it softly behind her.

****

Hours passed. Sarah sat right beside Samuel the entire time. She read to him from her Bible, looking through and finding passages she had marked at different times, telling him about why those passages had mattered to her at the time. As she journeyed through her own Bible, she witnessed her personal transformation. This Bible had been a gift from her father upon her fourteenth birthday. Passages she had marked as an adolescent were quite different from passages she marked later in her life. Her Bible markings were a visual representation of the change in her attitude. At one point the scribbled comments in the margin were full of wonder and awe. As her script matured, though, there appeared to be less awe and more order. How placid she had become! Even her relationship with God and the way she understood His word had changed from something exciting and vibrant to something dull and ordinary, bordering on lifeless.

Sarah began chastising herself only to remember she’d already committed to change her ways. Okay, God, I know you can see me. I am going to torment myself with my past mistakes if I don’t give this over to you soon. I know I already gave it over once, but it appears I decided I needed to worry over it some more. Please take this burden from me. You’ve already forgiven me. Help me to remember you have placed my sins as far as the east is from the west. Give me excitement about my relationship with You. I want to dance with joy at the thought of my eternal salvation. Help me to embrace the freedom I have in Christ. Give me the courage to be Your child completely, wholly and everyday from this point forward. And please heal Samuel.

Sarah heard a moan coming from the bed. Her eyes shot to Samuel’s face in anticipation, only to be disappointed to see he still appeared to be sleeping. His face was no longer the pale death mask it had been before, though, and she found encouragement in that.

The outside office door opened, and a moment later a group of men quietly shuffled into the room where she sat with Samuel. Doc instructed the men in the careful movement of his patient. They all washed their hands with hot water and soap before approaching the sickbed. The sheet beneath him became a gurney as the men lifted it to move him. Working slowly and carefully, the group didn’t want to cause any harm to the man they had been entrusted to move. Sarah recognized all of the men and realized every single one of them had been recently serving as a deputy. They all nodded to her as they filed out, carrying the precious cargo gently between them.

Sarah followed the procession down the street. It was evening by then, and many folks were already home for the night. Some people peeked out from behind curtains as they trudged by. Thankfully it wasn’t far to the mayor’s house, and the men were able to get Samuel settled onto the bed in the sitting room in fairly quick order.

The men did not immediately leave when Samuel was settled. Sarah watched them, not quite sure what to say. She had already said thank you many times. Surely these men did not expect her to pay them? Hadn’t they done this out of the kindness of their hearts? Apparently at an impasse, she was about to speak up when Isaac, one of the men, stepped forward and removed his hat.

“Miss Sarah,” he began, “we all jist want you t’ know we’ll be prayin’ fer Samuel. He saved all our lives today, prob’ly saved th’ whole town. It’s not right he’s the one got hurt. We jist want you t’ know you got a fine man there, is all.”

Isaac’s heartfelt words stopped her from hollering at them all to get out so she could see to Samuel. “Thank you,” she said humbly, taking the time to shake each man’s hand as he shuffled out the front door. Though touched by their words, she didn’t understand how her mysterious Samuel had saved the town today. She wanted a future with this man, and she stood taller knowing he was well regarded by others in Larkspur.

When she turned back to the bed where Samuel lay, she saw his color had again faded. He wasn’t as pale as he had been before, but the jostling of being moved appeared to have caused a fair setback in him. Arty, who had arrived as the men were shuffling out, settled himself into a chair in the corner of the sitting room. Doc worked to make sure Samuel was comfortable and settled and then left with instructions for Arty to come get him should the need arise during the night.

Settled in next to Samuel, her Bible in hand, Sarah picked up reading to him where she had left off. Before long, her arm grew tired, and she set the Bible in her lap. Sometime after that, she nodded off, and the Bible slipped to the floor. Sarah had no idea how long she had been asleep, but she woke to the sound of Arty’s urgent voice.

“Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah!”

Sarah jumped up, accidentally stepped on her fallen Bible, lost her balance, waved her arms wildly to regain her balance, and eventually fell backward into the chair she’d presently vacated. She fought to give Arty her attention as she tried to wake up enough to focus on what he was saying. Words like fever, hot, and red, swam through her mind in Arty’s voice. As she perused Samuel’s face with her eyes, she saw that sure enough, his cheeks bloomed with color, and his lips looked as though he’d painted them as some women were wont to do. The biggest risk was infection, and fever was a sign that it had come. Samuel couldn’t have gotten an infection and fever this quickly, though, could he have?

With panic lacing her voice, Sarah sent Arty to go fetch Doc Billingsly. While he was gone, she picked up her Bible and tried to set the room back to rights. Pacing and praying, she finally stopped to rest her hand on Samuel’s cheek only to pull it away as she felt burned by the heat. Her panic rising minute by minute, she jumped when she heard the front door open.

“Doc Billingsly!” she yelled much too loud for the small sitting room. “Something’s wrong!”

“Quit your hollering! You’re going to wake the whole block if you don’t stop!”

The doctor’s words caused Sarah to look toward the windows where she saw nothing but inky blackness. Had night already fallen? She had lost track of time as she’d sat there with Samuel. She had no idea what time it was. Doc Billingsly took the final steps to Samuel’s bedside. Jacket thrown on over a nightshirt tucked into his pants, Doc was a sight to behold. His hair was jutting up and out in every direction giving him the look of a mad scientist. “It’s two o’clock in the morning, Sarah. No more yelling, okay?”

Sarah was so caught off guard by the doctor’s appearance she could do nothing more than mutely nod.

Doc Billingsly took one look at Samuel’s flushed appearance and muttered, “Fever.” He put his hand to Samuel’s forehead and cheeks to feel the warmth and then examined all of the surgical sites from the bullet wounds. When he returned his attention to Sarah, she was still staring at Samuel, mouth agape as though words were fighting to come out but found the way blocked. “Sarah?” he said to get her attention.

Though her eyes had been hazy and out of focus, at the sound of her name, Sarah snapped to attention and zeroed in on Doc’s face. “What can I do?”

Doc Billingsly sent Sarah to get some freshly pumped, nice, cold water and some clean linen strips. When she returned, she saw that, in her absence, Doc Billingsly had rolled up Samuel’s pant legs to right below his knees. He had also removed the sheet that had been previously draped over Samuel’s upper body. All business, the doctor took the items from her and spoke crisply.

“This is what we are going to do, Sarah. We have fresh cold water and clean linen. Dip the linen in the cold water, wring it out, and then place it over his skin and leave it there. Avoid putting the cloth directly on any of the areas I stitched. Do not cover his mouth or nose, either. Aside from where he has stitches and what he needs to breathe, though, you need to cover every square inch of his body with wet cold cloths. As soon as you are done, go back and start over. Remove each cloth, one at a time, re-dip it in the cold water, wring it out, put it back. Do you understand?”

Sarah nodded and began to do as Doc Billingsly had instructed. While working, she asked, “Why do we leave the cloth there?”

“Your folks might have rinsed your forehead with a cool cloth when you had a childhood fever. That’s okay. Nothing wrong with that. This is a lot more effective, though. Cools the skin down much faster and allows the inside of the body to release its heat quicker. The kind of fever you get from surgery or from infection is a whole different thing than the type of fever children get from a cold. We have to treat it more aggressively.”

She wanted to ask more, if only to keep her mind occupied, but Sarah wasn’t sure it mattered right now. Knowing why this method was supposed to work better wouldn’t help Samuel in the least. Sarah worked quickly and efficiently, following the doctor’s instructions. Never had she touched a man so intimately before, nor had ever seen so much bared skin on a man. She knew she should be scandalized, but her concern for Samuel overrode all of her genteel instincts.

Sarah was shocked at how hot the linen strips felt as she removed them from Samuel’s body. When she asked Doc Billingsly about it, he explained, “The fever is high. His insides are hot, and his body is releasing the heat through the skin. By cooling his skin down, we allow his body to release more of the heat it’s holding on the inside. As we bring his temperature down and the fever becomes less severe, you should find that the cloths heat up slower and slower. Not everyone will agree with my method, but I’ve found it to be most effective over the years.” Sarah worried her lower lip as she continued to work. Doc Billingsly had been right. This fever was something altogether different than anything she’d ever dealt with before.

Arty came in from an errand the doctor had sent him on. He saw what they were doing and went to get more fresh water for them. Then he settled back into his chair in the shadowed corner of the room and left Sarah and Doc to their work.

Doc Billingsly and Sarah labored side by side for more than an hour. When the doctor yawned for the fifth time in three minutes, Sarah told him to go back home and get some sleep.

“I can handle this. You need to get some rest so you can take care of your patients, including Samuel, tomorrow.”

The doctor asked if she was certain, and Sarah assured him she was. With a twinkle in her eye and a smile lighting her face, she said, “Besides, if something comes up I can’t handle, Arty here will drag you back for me.”

The doctor chuckled, placed his hat on his head, and slipped out the front door.

Glancing at the clock, Sarah saw it was approaching four in the morning. The town would start to wake up in another hour and would be wide awake within two, she figured. Minnie would probably come check on her at first light, maybe even spell her for a bit. Vibrant irritation coursed through her body at the thought, taking her by surprise. As she continued to change out the linen strips draped across Samuel’s body for fresh cooler ones, she saw the source of her irritation. While she had not given much thought to Samuel’s body during this time, the thought of Minnie ministering to the half-naked man in the same way she was currently doing filled her with possessiveness.

“Well, Samuel, that settles it. You need to get better quickly because I don’t think I can let any other women in here to help take care of you.” Sarah blushed at her own words.

Her eyes darted the corner where Arty was sitting, and Sarah saw that he appeared to have dozed off. What a relief! Whether he was actually asleep or faking it, she wasn’t sure. She was simply glad she didn’t have to meet his eyes after what she’d said. Talk about mortifying!

Sarah became aware of the apparent intimacy of the situation for the first time since everyone had gone to bed. Understanding dawned as Sarah realized one of the reasons Mrs. Smith had insisted Samuel be brought here must have been so Sarah could care for him without giving the town gossips too much fuel. Whether it was fatigue or familiarity, though, the longer Sarah cared for Samuel, the more she became aware of his body laying before her. Guilt nipped at her like an unseen foe in the dark.

“You’re sick, and I’m helping take care of you. That’s all,” she muttered to Samuel’s still form, not sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. “I’m here to see to your care and well-being, not to get distracted by how attractive you are.” Sarah bit her lower lip as her gaze shot again to where Arty appeared to be sleeping.

“It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong. Just because you’re a handsome man, that doesn’t mean I’m going to automatically throw myself at you. Let’s face it. You’re unconscious. Even if I wanted to throw myself at you, there’s not much you could do about it.”

Despite her self admonition, Sarah was coming to look at Samuel more as a man and less as a patient in need. Giving voice to her thoughts did not cause them to dissipate as she had hoped. Sarah noticed a scar on his left bicep. And another on his right calf. What stories did those scars tell? Sarah wondered. There were small scars littered across the backs of his hands, clearly old and not so prominent that she’d ever noticed them before. Were they the result of rambunctious trouble he had gotten himself into as a young boy? Next, her eyes noticed the shape of his lips, kissable and strong. She reached out to smooth his eyebrows, which had become mussed from all the wet linen applications. Then her fingers slipped down to his ear, tracing its outline as she wondered what the future held for the two of them.

Chapter Fourteen

Feeling as though she’d been burned, Sarah snatched her hand away from Samuel. Holding her fingers to her lips, she stared in wonder at the man before her. Not understanding her own reaction, she closed her eyes and pivoted away from him.

She paced around the room a couple of times before she decided she needed to change the cold linen strips again. Forcing her mind to focus on the task at hand, she quickly removed and reapplied all of the cloths she had previously draped across Samuel’s body. When she started over again to repeat the process, Sarah noticed the linen was much cooler than it had been previously. Did this mean his fever was breaking? Doc Billingsly had warned her about applying the cloths after his fever broke, telling her it could lead to him getting the chills if his temperature was already down. He’d headed back home and to bed with strict instructions for her to wake him if Samuel worsened.

Sarah made quick work of removing all of the cloths and covering Samuel with a light blanket. She was still deciding what to do when Minnie, who had come quietly down the stairs, entered the sitting room. Arty, it appeared, was truly asleep. His soft snores filled the room as Minnie asked what she could do to help. Sarah was about to send her for Doc Billingsly when there came a soft knock at the front door.

Hoping it would be the doctor, Sarah went to answer the door. With surprise, she took in John and Ida standing there on the front porch. She invited them in, and John quickly explained, “Ida has spent so much time with you at the stage office these past few weeks, she has this notion that, between her and Minnie and the Martinez boys, they can probably hold the fort down for you at least for a few days so you can see to things here. I wanted to escort Ida, though, and make sure the Martinez boys were there before I left her alone. The town’s supposed to be cleaned up and safe now, but…” he shrugged, as though expecting everyone to understand his concern.

Sarah fought to focus on John, Ida, and Minnie and nod her head. She felt fatigue pulling at the features on her face. “Thank you, Ida, Minnie. Anything you can do to help at the stage office is welcome. I’d completely forgotten I have a job that needs doing.”

Ida was the first to speak up, “You do have a job that needs doing, Sarah. Take care of my cousin and make sure he gets through this – that’s your job. He was raised by my parents, you know, and he’s more of a brother than a cousin. All those years as a Secret Service agent, and I never realized how dangerous his job was, never realized how worried I should have been. Now that he’s out of law enforcement and working as a plain old businessman, I suddenly get to witness how much he put his life on the line to protect people, and it’s left me a bit shaken. He’s a special man, Sarah.”

Sarah stared at Ida, flabbergasted at what her friend had said. “Secret Service?”

Kindness marked the gentle smile on Ida’s face as she reached her hand out to touch Sarah’s arm. “Samuel didn’t want to keep secrets from you. It tore him up, but he felt he needed to honor the mayor’s request. I made no such promise, though, and plan to stop by today after we close the stage office so I can tell you all about my cousin Samuel. From his childhood to his career to his favorite foods and ticklish spots.”

Sarah was moved by Ida’s kindness. “I would like that,” she offered in a soft whisper.

Minnie grabbed her wrap and a couple of apples before John ushered her and Ida out the door. Before closing the door behind him, he winked at Sarah and told her, “You are in for quite a treat. Ida retelling the life of Samuel is more entertaining than any dime novel you could find. Make sure she tells you how she discovered that ticklish spot.”

Sarah sank into one of the seats and said out loud to no one in particular, “Secret Service? I don’t even know what that is.”

A short while later another knock came at the front door. This one was louder and roused Arty from his slumber. “Some chaperone I am,” he muttered as he shook the cobwebs from his brain and stepped out of the sitting room to answer the knock. Arty was speaking to someone out in the foyer, but Sarah was distracted from the voices as soon as the doctor walked into the room.

Turning her attention to Doc Billingsly, Sarah said, “The linen is staying cooler. I took all the strips off and put a blanket on and was deciding whether I should come get you so you could examine him again.”

The front door could be heard opening and closing again seconds before Mrs. Smith entered the make-shift sickroom.

“Sarah, I’ve sent Arty home to get some sleep, and you need to do the same. Off to bed with you now.”

Exhaustion licked at Sarah and gained in ferocity, trying to pull her down much the way a fire would slowly climb and then consume and topple a lone tree. Everything seemed hazy and far away. She wanted to argue with Mrs. Smith and say she was perfectly fine and could take care of Samuel, but she couldn’t make her mouth move to form the words. Instead, she did as Mrs. Smith bid her. Before she knew it, she was sinking down into a mattress that felt divinely soft and welcoming to her fatigued mind and body. Sarah was barely aware of Mrs. Smith moving about the room. The woman might have said, “Sweet dreams,” or “Sleep well,” or something along that line, but Sarah couldn’t be sure.

Sarah’s last coherent thought as she drifted off to sleep was, Joy, Lord. I want to have joy.

****

The sun was high in the afternoon sky when Sarah woke. The bedroom door was closed, and Sarah could hear nothing coming from below. She felt grimy all over. Simply knowing she could change into a fresh dress brightened her outlook. Thank you, Lord! Sleep had done wonders for her and her determination to see the good in the current situation.

Quick work was made of her ablutions, and then Sarah changed into that fresh dress and pinned her hair up in her customary bun. She made her way down the stairs and found Mrs. Smith working on some quilting squares as she sat in a chair at Samuel’s bedside.

“Samuel’s fever returned, and the doctor is worried about him,” Mrs. Smith said matter-of-factly.

Sarah’s heart skipped a couple of beats and then raced ahead. She knew she couldn’t have done anything different from Doc Billingsly to prevent the return of the fever, and she knew she would have collapsed if she hadn’t gotten some sleep, but nonetheless, Sarah felt guilt move through her in waves. Help me, Lord, to hold onto what I know and not to be swept away by what I feel.

The doctor, whom Sarah hadn’t realized was in the room, startled her when he said, “I’m pleased to see you up and about, dear. Do you feel rested?”

“Y-yes sir, I do,” she stuttered in surprised before regaining her composure. “What can I do to help?”

“I am perfectly willing to let you take over the task of trying to keep Samuel’s temperature down. I have some patients I need to see to that are outside the city proper. Will you be okay while I’m away?”

Smiling with bravado, Sarah said, “Of course, Doc. We’ll be just fine.”

Mrs. Smith showed Doc Billingsly out. When she returned to the sitting room, she settled into a chair back by the wall, presumably leaving the chair by the bed for Sarah. Resuming her sewing, she said, “Don’t mind me, dear. You go right about your business.”

Sarah did indeed get right to work but had to ask, “Do I need a chaperone?”

Mrs. Smith put her sewing down and gave Sarah a direct gaze. “People in town don’t fully understand Samuel’s role in what happened yesterday. There is some talk, especially since my dear William hasn’t revealed who placed the ad. I am taking precautions to try to protect you both as much as possible.”

Chaffing at the perceived restrictions, Sarah felt her face heating, not with embarrassment over the need for a chaperone but rather with irritation. She could tell by the look on Mrs. Smith’s face that she was not hiding her reaction well.

“Sarah, dear, you’ve been on your own long enough to have gotten used to making your own decisions. I understand and know you don’t want me telling you what to do, but please trust me when I say this is for your own good and for Samuel’s own good.”

Sarah reigned in her irritation and simply asked, “Was anybody else besides Samuel injured?”

“Not many, and they’re mostly minor injuries.” Sarah was thankful that Mrs. Smith didn’t fight the subject change. “To be honest, I think everyone else that got injured is now locked up in jail with the exception of my husband, who only had a small graze.”

“Mayor Smith!” Sarah said louder than she’d intended. “He was going to take today off to spend with you. I’m so sorry you’re stuck here chaperoning me. You should be with your husband.”

Mrs. Smith waved Sarah’s concern away and said briskly, “Not to worry, dear. He would have spent the day with me without hesitation, but he truly was needed at work. I did the best thing by telling him I was needed here. Now he can take care of city business without any guilt. Once I saw he was fine – tired, but in good health – then I, too, was fine.”

Chapter Fifteen

As the afternoon wore on, Sarah noticed that Samuel’s temperature came back down. She wasn’t convinced this would be a permanent change, but she was thankful nonetheless.

When Minnie and Ida arrived that evening, Minnie whisked her mother away to go discuss a new wardrobe for college. Ida remained with Sarah, saying that her husband would be by to pick her up later in the evening. With Samuel’s sleeping form between them and the house relatively quiet, Sarah and Ida chatted.

“Was the stage office busy today?” Sarah asked.

“Not at all. After yesterday’s shootout, everyone seems to be staying pretty close to home. Minnie and I mostly talked fashion and girlish daydreams all day.” With a twinkle in her eye, Ida added, “And drank good coffee, of course.”

Sarah didn’t quite have it in her to laugh, but she did appreciate her friend’s attempt to lighten the mood and relieve some of the worry that permeated the room. “Nobody here lets me make coffee either. Apparently I have a reputation.”

After a few more minutes of idle conversation, Ida spoke up, “I said I would tell you more about Samuel. I can do that now if you’d like.”

Sarah felt like she’d been awaiting this conversation for days. She leaned forward in her seat, anticipating Ida’s words, desperate for anything that might help her to understand this man. Sarah knew he might still die, but if she could feel closer to him, even if only for this brief period of time, then that is exactly what she wanted.

“You know that Samuel is my cousin, right?” When Sarah nodded, Ida continued, “His mother and my father were brother and sister. Samuel’s mother was shot and killed during a bank robbery when he was seven. Thankfully, he was in school. Otherwise we might have lost them both.”

Sarah gasped and sat back in her chair, feeling the blow of Ida’s words. Samuel had lost his mother too? Why had he never said anything to her about it? Her heart always went out to any child who lost a parent. She imagined, though, that it must be doubly hard for him to have lost his mother in such a brutal fashion.

“I have few memories of Samuel’s father before the shooting.” Ida folded her hands in her lap and watched Sarah for a moment, her eyes distant, before picking up the tale again. “I remember him as being jolly. That all changed when his wife was killed, though.” Ida looked at Sarah, the pain of remembering etched on her face. Though Sarah was glad that Ida had continued, her heart continued to ache for young Samuel and the tragic violence that had affected both him and his father. “My uncle did not handle his wife’s death well,” Ida said in a ghost of a voice.

Sarah reached for a nearby glass of water and took a small sip, hoping to ease the sudden tightness in her throat. Nodding, she said, “Go on.”

“Samuel’s father began drinking and acting erratically. I didn’t know much about what adults did during the day back then, but I knew that Samuel’s dad worked for the government in Washington, DC, and I had heard my parents say that he had a high stress job.”

Ida paused long enough to unclench her hands and flex them a couple of times. She looked past Sarah, a faraway expression again on her face. Her eyes came back into focus and moved to the man lying between them. Ida tenderly enfolded one of Samuel’s hands between her own before continuing. “It was more than that. I would sneak down the stairs and listen to my parents talk at night. They believed that Samuel’s father was losing control.” Ida again looked around the room. When her gaze returned to Sarah, her eyes were anguished. “You have to understand. Samuel and his family went to church with us every Sunday. We spent time together at each other’s homes. We were extended family, but we were a part of each other’s lives. After his mother died, though, we didn’t get to see Samuel anymore. His father cut us off. He began blaming everyone in his wife’s family, including us, for everything that was going wrong in his own life. His grief was intense, but it was also fueled by alcohol, a drink I don’t think he’d ever touched before his wife’s death.”

Sarah could not tear her gaze away from Ida’s face. Ida, who had never been good at hiding her emotions, told the story of what Samuel had been through with more than just her words. The emotions that flitted across her face told of greater woe and heartache than mere words could ever convey.

With a deep breath, Ida continued, “Samuel’s father virtually cut us off. He still brought Samuel to church each Sunday, and we got to see him there, but that was it. It stayed like that for a couple of years. My folks talked to an attorney to see if they could take Samuel by force but were told they had no legal grounds. The attorney told them that all they could do was pray.” Sarah reached up to brush her fingers along Samuel’s forehead. She told herself she was checking his temperature but knew deep down that her need to touch him was much more. Ida, meanwhile, rose from her seat and went to stand by the window. Arms wrapped around her middle, she looked like she might not finish the story.

Sarah returned her hands to lap and leaned forward in her seat. Anticipation and dread both coursing through her, she asked, “Why couldn’t they take him?”

Her eyes on something outside the window, Ida answered, “There was no proof that Samuel was being harmed. Laws protect families. Most of the time that’s a good thing. In this case it wasn’t.” She turned away from the window and gave Sarah a sad smile. “So we prayed. We prayed for Samuel everyday as a family. He may not have been allowed in our home anymore, but he was still a part of our family, and not a day went by that we didn’t pray for him. Then the unthinkable happened.”

“What?” whispered Sarah, taking another nervous sip of water.

“Samuel didn’t come to church. In all that time, he had never missed a Sunday. I think I must have been too young to understand what that meant, but everyone in my family was terribly distraught over his absence. I was too, but not in the way that my parents and older brothers were. It’s the only time in my life that I can remember seeing my father afraid.”

Ida raised one hand to the neck of her blouse and grasped the locket that lay there among the folds. “It was years before I learned what happened that afternoon. It was truly awful.” A distance look in her eyes, Ida continued, “Samuel’s father apparently got fired from his job earlier that week. He got drunker than he’d ever been before. Samuel avoided his father all week, waiting for Sunday to come so he could see us. On Saturday, though, he didn’t get away fast enough. Samuel must have said something. Whatever it was, it set his father off. His father became violently angry. He lashed out. He beat Samuel so badly that he was almost unrecognizable. His face was swollen, bruised and bleeding. The backs of his hands were covered in open cuts, many of the bones in them broken. His back, his legs – every part of him was covered in bruises.”

Sarah willed herself to breathe evenly as she waited for Ida to continue. She wondered if it was as painful for Ida to retell it as it was for her to hear it. Sarah watched a shudder run through Ida’s body as she began to speak again. “My father left us at church to go check on Samuel. When he saw Samuel’s condition, he put him into the wagon. My uncle was supposed to be passed out drunk, so my father went back into the house to hurriedly collect some of Samuel’s belongings. It turned out that Samuel’s father wasn’t passed out after all. He pulled a gun. There was a struggle. My father got shot in the arm.”

Ida visibly relaxed, but her expression remained somber. “The story gets better from here,” she said. “Someone had already called the authorities, so the police arrived and took Samuel’s father into custody. He was tried for his crimes and sentenced to three years in prison but hung himself after only one.”

Ida returned to her previously vacated seat next to Samuel’s bed. She again picked up his hand and held it gently between her own. “The doctors said that not only had Samuel suffered brain damage, but also that he’d probably never be able to use his hands again.” With a chuckle, she added, “They clearly didn’t know him very well.” A genuine smile now lighting Ida’s face, she told Sarah, “Samuel came to live with us. I was young enough to think he was there just for me to play with, and he didn’t seem to mind. We became fast friends. It was years before I realized he played with me because he didn’t feel threatened by me. Most of the physical scars healed within a year, but the emotional scars took longer. After a few years, he began smiling again. Eventually he started laughing. Samuel flourished in our home and found himself again.” Sarah picked up the glass of water then put it back without taking a drink. She smoothed her skirt, only to realize her hands were trembling. Folding them stiffly in her lap, she willed herself to remember that Samuel’s story had a happy ending.

Ida didn’t seem to notice Sarah’s turmoil as she continued, “He always had a great sense of humor, strength and confidence. He just needed a chance to remember. He eventually became the biggest prankster in the family. We’re a family of pranksters, so trust me when I say that’s a big deal.”

Heart still heavy for all Samuel had been through, Sarah wanted to grasp and hold onto the optimism she now heard ringing in Ida’s voice. “You said something about the Secret Service this morning. What’s that?”

“Samuel is the best one to answer that, but I’ll tell you what I know,” Ida replied. “Samuel studied business in college. After graduating, he joined the Secret Service. He wanted to help protect people against bank robbers, like the one who had taken his mother’s life. He ended up getting assigned to the illegal gambling unit instead. He spent four years in the Secret Service, mostly working undercover.

“Samuel was good at what he did and was highly decorated for his work. Eventually, though, the job became too routine for him. He didn’t feel challenged anymore.” Shrugging, Ida added, “He’s an adventurer at heart, I think. So Samuel left the Secret Service and bought a hotel. He told me in a letter that he wanted to spend more time around good, honest folk and less time around crooks and criminals.”

Curiosity getting the better of her, Sarah blurted, “So he owns a hotel?” Startled by how loud her voice sounded in the still room, she stood. Needing something to do, she began fidgeting with the blanket, making sure Samuel’s covering was straight and wrinkle-free.

Ida gave Sarah an odd look before answering. “He fixed up that first hotel and then sold it for a profit. Then he bought another and did the same thing. And then another. He purchased hotel after hotel, fixing each up, improving them to no end, and then selling them. After John and I got married and moved out west, though, something changed for Samuel. He started to talk about wanting to settle down. I didn’t take him seriously at first, but after a while I began to think he meant it. I got a letter telling me he’d be arriving in about a year and to have a bed ready for him. His plans changed, as you know, and he came to town much sooner.”

“But Larkspur doesn’t have a hotel. What’s his interest in being here?”

Ida stood and brushed the hair from Samuel’s forehead. Her eyes were on her cousin as she answered Sarah’s question. "He wants to build his masterpiece here, the first hotel he’ll have built from the ground up. Then he plans to settle in and run the place and put down roots.”

Sarah mulled that over for a moment, wondering if Samuel’s roots would include her. Not sure how to continue that subject without revealing too much, she asked, “How did he get involved in the shooting yesterday?”

“Samuel heard some things around town. His background with the Secret Service made him believe there was a plot being hatched to rob the bank. He brought his suspicions to the mayor. The mayor had him coordinate with Sheriff Spooner to try to thwart the robbery. You pretty much know the rest.”

“How exactly did Samuel get shot? Shouldn’t he be experienced at this sort of thing?” asked Sarah.

“I don’t rightfully know the answer to that. Sheriff Spooner could probably tell you, I suspect, but he’s mighty busy down at the jail and won’t likely be making social calls anytime soon.”

Mrs. Smith stepped into the room with a tea service in hand. She set it on the table and said, “I thought you ladies could do with some refreshments. A nice bracing cup of tea always does wonders for me.” Mrs. Smith stepped out just as unceremoniously as she’d arrived.

Sarah poured tea for them as Ida looked over the treats that had been included on the tray. “Are those lemon scones?” she asked, pointing to a particularly delectable looking treat.

The heaviness of the previous conversation seemed to evaporate from the room as the two sipped their tea and tasted the various delights that had accompanied it. They continued to visit, but neither of them brought up Samuel again. They compared sewing techniques, talked about John’s job at the school and even discussed politics a bit.

By the time Ida and Sarah finished talking, the sun had set and darkness was settling over the town of Larkspur. The doctor returned to check on Samuel as John showed up to take Ida home. Even though she’d slept during the afternoon, Sarah was more tired than she could ever remember being. She had learned so much about Samuel today. She couldn’t reconcile the sad and broken boy she’d learned about with the laughing man she’d come to know. She wondered if that young hurting boy was still in there somewhere. As she pondered the differences between the man she knew and the young boy Ida had described, she realized they never got around to discussing his ticklish spot or how Ida had discovered it. With a smile, Sarah filed that away. She would let Samuel tell her about it someday.

The remainder of the night was uneventful after John took Ida home. Samuel showed no more sign of fever, but neither did he wake and smile at Sarah. By the time the sun rose the next morning, Sarah sat in her chair, barely able to keep her eyes open. Mrs. Smith sent her off to bed with the promise to wake her if there was any change.

****

Sarah awoke after having slept straight through for ten hours. She quickly dressed, stopped in the kitchen to scarf down a bite to eat in a most unladylike fashion, and then stepped into the parlor-cum-patient-room. As she entered, she saw Doctor Billingsly was already there. Doc met Sarah with a smile.

“Our patient is doing well this afternoon,” he said in answer to the question in Sarah’s eyes. “In fact, I think he might be waking up.” Before Sarah could get around the doctor and to the bed, he added, “I need to go make my rounds at the jail. Afterward, I will be at my office or upstairs in my quarters. Come get me, wherever I am, if he does actually wake up. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet. Let’s call it a hunch.”

Sarah nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, Doc Billingsly, oh yes, I’ll come get you. Don’t you worry about a thing!”

Mrs. Smith and Doc shared an amused look as Sarah rushed the doctor out the door and returned to where Samuel lay. Her Bible was still in the room, and she sat down to read to him. She decided the Psalms would be a wonderful place to pick up.

After Sarah had been reading about twenty minutes, she heard a groan from the bed. Her gaze flew to the source of the sound, but she saw no change in Samuel’s face, nothing to indicate he was waking. Returning to her reading, she hoped he enjoyed the Psalms because she wasn’t planning to stop until his eyes were open! Right as that thought entered her head, Sarah glanced up to take a peek at Samuel.

The breath whooshed out of her as she found herself gazing into the gold-flecked brown depths of his eyes. He was awake! He looked glorious. Despite the injuries and the inactivity that had followed them, Samuel’s eyes sparkled, looking more alert than she had expected. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him.

Common sense caught up with her before long, and she realized how parched he must be. She rushed to get him a drink and then ran out the door yelling, “I told Doc I’d get him as soon as you woke up!”

****

Samuel closed his eyes as soon as Sarah left the room. He was sorry she’d gone. It had been good to look at her, to drink in the sight of her, whole and healthy. Worry for her had ridden him hard as he rose into consciousness. Dreams should not be that vivid. As he had started to wake, all the sights and sounds of her death came rushing in, causing him to relive Sarah’s brutal end, the terrible details of which he had witnessed dozens of times in his dreams. Floating up toward the edge of wakefulness and hearing her voice had convinced him he had died, succumbing to his injuries. He had been certain when he finally opened his eyes he would find himself in heaven. Sarah disabused him of that notion, though, when she went running out the door.

Samuel shook the visions of death in his mind’s eye, determined to believe Sarah was alive and that the invasive mental image he was battling was not real, had never been real. Surely Sarah wouldn’t have gone running after the doctor if they were in heaven. His joy at finding Sarah whole and hearty overwhelmed him. Thank you, Jesus. With that heartfelt prayer, he drifted back off to sleep, certain Sarah would have a thing or two to say about it when she returned and found him sleeping again.

****

When Sarah came bursting back through the door, practically dragging Doc Billingsly along by his arm, Mrs. Smith quickly jumped up from the seat she had taken and hushed them both. Having difficulty obeying, Sarah twisted her hands together and shifted anxiously from one foot to the other.

“He’s asleep again,” Mrs. Smith whispered to them.

Sarah felt instantly deflated. “Are you sure? He was awake when I left.” As if he’d heard the question, Samuel let out a loud snore. Doc and Mrs. Smith chuckled at the evidence.

“Oh bother!” Sarah was so frustrated she wanted to stomp her foot. She refrained, though, and chuckled. “Does this mean he’s out of the woods, Doc?”

“It’s hard to say yet, but it certainly looks better for him now than it did a day ago. Infection and blood poisoning are dangers for anyone with injuries like Samuel’s. Once he is awake enough for me to talk to him, I’ll have a better idea of how he is doing.”

“Why do you need to talk to him to gauge that?” inquired Sarah.

Standing tall under Doc Billingsly’s scrutiny, Sarah met his gaze. She wanted to know what the doctor was thinking, and she did not intend to back down. Eventually he spoke, “High fevers can sometimes harm the brain. I need to talk with Samuel so I can determine if there was any obvious damage to the brain. If he can speak coherently and answer questions, though not completely conclusive…” Doc seemed to be searching for words and finally finished, “…it would be good.” The doctor shrugged then, as though apologizing for not finding a better way to explain.

Sarah found herself truly looking at Doc for the first time in days. She saw the dark circles under his eyes and the fatigue written across every line of his face. Feeling a bit guilty for demanding so much of his attention lately, she asked, “Were you done at the jail when I found you? Perhaps you should go get some rest. I’ll come get you if Samuel wakes again.”

Relief in his voice, Doc said, “That’s an excellent idea. I was indeed done and wouldn’t mind getting some sleep. Do me a favor, though.” When Sarah looked at him expectantly, he went on. “Cook some broth for Samuel and try to get him to drink it when he comes to again. If he falls right back to sleep, don’t bother waking me. Come and get me when he can stay awake for more than fifteen minutes.”

As the doctor left, Sarah directed her attention to Mrs. Smith who said, “I’ll go start a broth to cooking. I intend to mention to the mayor, though, that this town needs a nurse. There’s too much work for the doctor to handle alone, and there needs to be a chaperone at his office when he sees patients – or when a loved one wants to sit with a patient. It would save a lot of trouble and inconvenience, and give the gossips in town a lot less to fuss about. I’ll mention it over dinner.” Mrs. Smith went on to say, “I’m not saying you or Samuel are a bother. I can’t help but wonder, though, what might have happened if we hadn’t been able to provide a room for Samuel.”

Sarah knew Mrs. Smith didn’t mind sitting with her or making the broth or giving up her parlor, but she did have a valid point about the need for a nurse. Not everyone in the doctor’s care had someone who was willing to sit with them non-stop, giving the doctor a break to get some sleep, and not everyone who came in to help with a patient was going to be married. A nurse would indeed be a good idea.

“Perhaps we should place an ad,” Sarah said lightly.

Mrs. Smith’s expression could have peeled paint. “I dare say, an ad is the last thing this town needs to be placing!”

The absurdity of the moment got the better of both women, and they laughed wholeheartedly.

Chapter Sixteen

Samuel could feel movement around him, which seemed strange. Shouldn’t he be hearing movement instead of feeling it? He could feel pain, burning hot and pulsating throughout most of his body. It was especially concentrated, though, on the right side. Samuel tried to get his bearings. He couldn’t tell at first if this was real or a dream. He used to have nightmares much like this when he was a kid.

A fragrance floated about him. He couldn’t quite place the smell, but it reminded him of home. As he worked to identify the odor, his brain began to untangle the other sensations in his body. He was able to pinpoint the origin of the pain to somewhere in his upper body. His legs didn’t hurt at all. He was silently taking inventory of his different limbs to determine the extent of the damage when he felt an entirely different kind of discomfort.

He wondered how long he had been laying here. He assumed he was at the doctor’s, or laid up somewhere in bed. Had he seen Sarah alive? Intense images of her death flashed brightly through his mind, but he could not sort them out enough to tell which were real and which were from his dreams.

Fighting to open his eyes, Samuel tried to remain still and focus his energy on getting his eyes opened. After what felt like an interminable stretch of time, he finally had his eyelids at half-mast, barely able to see out beneath his lashes at the space around him.

What he saw warmed his heart. Sarah sat there beside him, head bowed, either asleep or praying. But she was well. The nightmare images of her death could be purged from his memory. He doubted he’d ever fully forget those mental pictures, but as long as he could take an equal number of her, alive and well, he was certain the terror that had accompanied those deathly images would eventually fade in intensity.

Wanting to lay there and drink in the sight before him, Samuel again felt the pressing discomfort of his bladder and questioned how long he’d been laying there. “Doc,” was all he managed to croak from his painfully dry throat.

Sarah’s head shot up, and her eyes shone with joy. “Oh Samuel, we’ve been so worried. I’ve been so worried. Let me get you a drink.”

She quickly bustled and brought him a cup of fragrant broth, identifying for him the smell he’d caught a whiff of earlier. Samuel took a couple of sips with Sarah’s help, hoping that getting some fluid into him would make it easier to speak.

“I need Doc,” he said more clearly this time.

Sarah looked like she was going to argue with him for a moment there. As she looked at Samuel, though, her expression softened. Resting the back of her hand on his cheek, she said, “I’ll go get him straightaway.” Then she rushed out the door, yelling to Mrs. Smith that she was going for Doc.

As Samuel lay there waiting for Sarah to return with the doctor, Mrs. Smith stepped in to check on him. “Well, look at you,” she said with a smile. “We’ve all been so worried about you,” she said, warmth in her voice.

“Is Sarah really okay?” Samuel croaked, his voice raw.

Mrs. Smith looked at him oddly for a moment before replying. “Sarah is just fine. A little overtired from staying up with you so much, but she’s unharmed.”

“I thaw she gaw hur in the shooing,” he said, his words not entirely clear, even to his own ears.

Mrs. Smith looked puzzled for a moment before understanding dawned on her face. “Arty kept us in the cellar like you’d told him. We stayed there until the sheriff came for us. Sarah is just fine. She wasn’t hurt in the shooting.”

Samuel closed his eyes in relief. “Thake you,” he said.

“Would you like a drink?” Mrs. Smith asked.

Samuel shook his head and then winced at the pain. “No,” he said. “I nee Doc.”

****

Sarah burst through the Smiths front door, Doc Billingsly in tow. If Samuel needed the doctor, he was getting the doctor!

He’s awake! He’s awake! He’s awake! That thought had reverberated through her mind the entire way to Doc’s and back. Every step she’d taken had beaten out that rhythm. He’s awake! He’s awake! He’s awake!

Sarah shut the front door behind them as Mrs. Smith stepped out into the foyer. When Doc Billingsly stepped around the women and into the sitting room, Mrs. Smith shut the door behind him.

Sarah started pacing, her steps moving faster with each pass through the foyer. Mrs. Smith finally told her, “It’ll be alright dear. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and have a cup of tea?”

“Why didn’t he want to see me? Why did you shut the door on him and Doc?”

Mrs. Smith, back ramrod straight and not a trace of emotion on her face, said, “I imagine he needed assistance with a personal matter.”

Sarah stared, her mind blank. What was the woman trying to say?

“Uh-hem,” Mrs. Smith cleared her throat and then continued, “It would be indelicate of us to discuss this further.” Realization dawned, and Sarah felt the pink begin to climb up her neck and cheeks. The speed of her steps doubled as she moved toward the kitchen. “Tea would be lovely,” she said, avoiding eye contact.

A short time later, Doc Billingsly joined the women in the kitchen. “He’s sleeping again,” he said upon entering, “but I do believe he’s on the mend.”

“How can you be sure?” Sarah wondered.

“You, dear,” began the doctor, “would make a fine medical student with that inquisitive mind of yours.”

Sarah appreciated the compliment but was not to be deterred. When she continued to look at Doc expectantly, he had no choice but to answer her.

“His bodily functions are working, the fever has not returned, and his mind seems to be intact.”

Sarah set a cup of tea before the doctor, and he paused to take a drink before continuing. “He seems to have had some pretty vivid dreams while unconscious, and he might get those dreams confused with reality for a time. If he asks questions, just answer the matter-of-factly and don’t make too much of a fuss over it. I think he’ll get it all sorted out in time.”

“What sorts of dreams?” Sarah wanted to know.

Doc Billingsly waved his hand dismissively and said, “Just dreams about the shooting, dear. Nothing to fret over.” Doc drained his cup and then gave Sarah a piercing look, saying, “You should return to work tomorrow, at least for part of the day.” When Sarah began to protest, he cut her off, saying, “Samuel is stable and doing better. You need to get out of this house. Enjoy some exercise and fresh air – which you can do at work – before I end up with two patients in this house.”

Sarah balked at the thought of leaving Samuel, knowing if she worked during the day she would not be able to stay up with him at night. She refused to dignify the doctor’s suggestion with a response, and, a short while later, Doc Billingsly took his leave and headed back to his office.

****

Evening approached, and Sarah sat at the dinner table with Minnie and the Smiths. She had wanted to remain with Samuel, who was sleeping, but Mrs. Smith had insisted, saying, “He’ll be fine for the short time you join us. Besides, we’ll be able to hear him if he wakes and needs anything.”

Mayor Smith dominated the conversation, answering the many questions everyone had for him and confirming much of what Ida had already told Sarah about Samuel’s role in events. The mayor even filled in some of what Ida had not known, such as how Samuel came to be shot.

“One of the new deputies stepped out of position. He was directly in the line of fire but didn’t seem to realize it. Samuel broke cover to protect the deputy. The deputy is unharmed because Samuel took the bullets meant for him.”

“Who is the deputy?” Sarah asked.

“It’s irrelevant,” the mayor said firmly.

Not willing to let the mayor shut the door on that topic just yet, Sarah began to protest. “Surely…”

Mayor Smith shook his head to stop her. He finished chewing the bite of roast he’d just taken and then said, “Sarah, word may get out anyway, but I don’t want to be the source of it. The deputy is guilt-ridden and has already been by my office three times to check on Samuel. Though he can ill afford it, he has vowed to pay all of Samuel’s medical bills.”

Minnie asked, “How will he pay the bills if Sheriff Spooner fires him?”

Smiling at his daughter, the mayor answered, “The deputy has learned a very valuable lesson about following orders and sticking to the plan. Sheriff Spooner is keeping him on for now and has put him on patrol duty keeping an eye on the outlying farms. As for the medical bills, Samuel was injured while doing his job in the employ of the city, so the city will be paying for his care.” With a mischievous grin, he added, “I haven’t told the deputy that yet, though. And,” he added, “if I know the sheriff, he is mentoring that young deputy and using this opportunity to teach him some lessons that will last a lifetime.”

Mrs. Smith broke into the conversation. Looking at her husband, she announced, “Doc Billingsly thinks Sarah should return to work tomorrow, at least for part of the day.” Then, “What do you think?”

Mayor Smith flashed his eyes from his wife to Sarah. He studied Sarah’s face for the briefest moment before saying, “Our houseguest will not likely be thanking you for mentioning that, love.”

Chagrined, Sarah schooled her features. She had no right to be upset with these people who had been so kind to her, opening their home and offering her their protection during these difficult times in the town.

“I think, Sarah, that you should check on Samuel tomorrow on your way to the stage office. Then get to the stage office and check on Ida, see how things are going, catch up on paperwork, and take care of whatever else needs your undivided attention. As soon as you can get away and return here, that’s fine.”

“You think I would be better off if I returned to work full-time?”

“The last few days have been quite frightening. Samuel is on the mend, though, and he will get through this. While it is tempting to put him first to the exclusion of all else, now that the danger has passed, I think it is important you see to your other responsibilities. When your papa passed away, you closed the stage office for a spell, but you quickly got it opened back up because you knew people were depending on you. The only difference here is Samuel is alive and on his way to being well… not nearly as dire of a situation.”

Mrs. Smith spoke up, adding, “Returning to work will also help to waylay some of the gossip in town. If you spend all your time here with Samuel, people may speculate, and when people speculate, they rarely do so quietly.”

“Why must I care so much about gossip? Who has the right to judge my actions? If I’ve done nothing wrong, and if I can stand before God unashamed of my actions, then why should I be bothered by what other people say about me?” Sarah was disgusted with the whole notion of gossip.

“Samuel wants to have business dealings in this town. Perception matters. If people think ill of him, it could affect his ability to do business here,” Mayor Smith fielded her questions. “I’m not saying it’s right, just that it’s something you ought to be aware of as you make choices.”

With a lot more grumble than gratitude in her voice, Sarah replied, “I’ll go back to work tomorrow. I am quite discouraged people are so quick to assume the worst about others, me included. It’s not right.”

“You will get no argument from me on that front,” replied the mayor as the dinner concluded.

After a brief pause, Sarah asked, “Are people actually talking about me and Samuel?”

“All I’ve heard,” the mayor answered, “is happiness that he is doing well. If people have ugly things to say, though, I’m not sure they’d say them in my hearing. I am suggesting caution as a preventative measure, not because I’ve actually heard rumors being spread.” Though still disgruntled, Sarah felt somewhat mollified by the mayor’s answer.

Chapter Seventeen

“Sarah,” spoke the mayor as they left the dining room, “join me in my study for a cup of coffee. I would like to speak with you on a couple of topics.”

Rather than sit behind his imposing desk, the mayor sat in a chair near the fireplace and asked Sarah to join him in the other chair. Sarah wasn’t sure what he wanted and could only do as she had been bid, feeling a bit like a child being called up to explain herself to the headmaster.

“Relax Sarah,” he said. “It’s not the inquisition. Your father and I used to sit in here of an evening and enjoy good coffee and good conversation. We often talked about you and about my girls. I owe it to him, and to you, to tell you some of the things we talked about. It’s nothing upsetting.”

Sarah remembered her previous conversation with the mayor. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. “You were going to tell me about some of the things you and Papa talked about. I had forgotten.”

“Yes, well, we’ve had a rather hectic couple of weeks, haven’t we?” With a smile, the mayor offered Sarah some coffee, which she accepted. “Make yourself comfortable. Take your shoes off if you want. We are family, more or less. No need to stand on formality.”

When Sarah removed her shoes and tucked her feet up under her on the chair, the mayor smiled reminiscently.

“Do you remember when your father and I first became friends?” When Sarah shook her head, the mayor continued, “Your father and I had known each other for years, but we did not become well acquainted until after your mother passed away. He wanted to do right by his only daughter but had absolutely no idea how to raise a little girl. There was something I needed to mail, so I went into the stage office one day, and he started asking me all kinds of questions. I could make no sense out of what he was saying. He bounced from one subject to another, and I couldn’t untangle the words or topics in my own mind. He talked about caterpillars turning into butterflies and moose getting their antlers and a couple of other things I don’t recall. After thirty minutes of this, he could see I was completely lost. That’s when he asked me how old a flower has to be before it blooms. I, of course, being the suave and debonair man that I am, said, ‘I think they bloom each spring.’ That’s when he slammed his hand down on the counter, glared at me and shouted, ‘Metaphor, man! I’m talking in metaphor! There are some things you frankly don’t talk about in public!’”

Mayor Smith chuckled as he continued. “Bewildered doesn’t even begin to describe me in that moment. You know your papa. Never have I met a calmer, more even-tempered person. He intimidated me, truth be known, because nothing ever seemed to ruffle him. When he slammed his hand down, I thought for sure he’d gone mad. I leaned over the counter and, softly as I could, asked him, ‘What sorts of things are we metaphoring about?’”

“He didn’t even correct me. The look on his face was priceless. Pale as death, he whispered back to me, ‘I was never a little girl. I don’t know how to raise one.’ You have no idea how relieved I was. For a while there, what with all his ramblings, I wondered if I should be reporting a problem to the sheriff.

“I told your papa to come by after dinner that evening so he and I could chat more freely. He brought you along, of course. You and Minnie went upstairs to play, and he and I sat in this room and chatted over coffee. There are some things, nay – there are many things – men don’t know about being a girl. Even if they have a wife, they are blessedly kept in the dark about certain things. Your papa peppered me with questions, sometimes indelicate ones to which I had no answer. I told him I’d do some checking and to ask me again the next week. As soon as you and your papa left, I sought out Anna to ask her the questions I hadn’t been able to answer. From that first night, a pattern was set.”

“Our evenings eventually became a weekly affair. We didn’t always talk about you. Politics, business, statehood, and even literature were a few of our favorite topics. Your papa was a learned man, though he might not have had all the college degrees to prove it.”

Sarah enjoyed hearing the mayor talk about her father like this. It reminded her of the type of man he had been and made him come to life again for her, even if only for this evening.

“Do go on,” she said softly when the mayor paused.

The faraway look on the mayor’s face changed, his eyes once again focusing on Sarah. He continued, “As you grew older, your father became worried about you. I am going to say some things you might not want to hear. Please understand I am not being disloyal to your father, or to you. He would have talked to you about these things in his own time, in his own way. Because he wasn’t able to do that, though, I feel it’s fallen to me, and I’m not sure I have the luxury of time.”

Puzzled by the mayor’s remarks, she wondered if this is what he’d felt like when her father spoke to him of caterpillars and flowers. “Your father planned to talk to you about these things, but certainly not all at once. He would have discussed them with you as part of the normal course of events, but then he died. I have learned life can be fleeting. I don’t want to leave unsaid any of those things that truly should be said. Bear with me,” the mayor said as he took a deep breath and began.

“You are a fine young woman, Sarah.”

She could hear a “but” in the mayor’s voice and wasn’t at all sure she wanted him to continue.

“As I said, your father was an even-tempered man. That was his personality, not a choice he made. Your father never struggled with being hotheaded or volatile. He was never prone to shouting, even as a child, he told me. You came along, and your example for how to live was this man who never struggled with his temper. There was fire in you, and he could see it, but you didn’t seem to know how to express it, and he didn’t know how to help you. It was one of the reasons he was so happy when you and Minnie took to each other and got along well. You may have noticed,” the mayor said with a decided chuckle, “my youngest daughter has no problem expressing herself.”

Sarah regarded the mayor, a smile lurking in the grey-green depths of her laughing eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“Your papa loved you quite a bit, but as you grew into your teen years, he was afraid you were squelching your own personality because you thought you were supposed to be like him. He had finally decided he must speak to you about it, but he passed away before he ever had the chance. You were never supposed to feel you had to be like him. It’s okay to be upset or to yell and throw things once in a while. That should never be the norm, and you should not take your temper out on others, but it’s okay to feel things, to have strong emotions. When you feel things passionately, depending on the circumstances, it’s okay to express it. It’s not necessary for you to be even-tempered like your papa, especially if that means you are shutting down all emotion. You are not him, and no one ever expected you to be.”

“Do I do that? What if I simply don’t feel things strongly like other people?”

“Do you love God, Sarah?”

“Absolutely,” came her quick reply.

“Do you love Him passionately?”

Sarah tilted her head, not quite sure how to answer him. “I think I am learning to,” she finally responded.

“Good. You should love Him passionately. If you can’t love God passionately, how will you ever love a husband or children in the same way?”

Not sure where the mayor was going with this, Sarah watched him and listened closely as he continued. “Minnie is passionate about wanting to go to college. Now that she has found the path God has for her, she feels strongly about it. A man should be passionate about loving and protecting his family. A mayor should be passionate about seeing to the well-being of his city. Passion is a measure of degree. Simply put, it means that what you feel, you feel powerfully.”

Sarah nodded her understanding and waited for the mayor to continue.

“Do you plan to get married someday?”

Like a deer caught in the headlights, Sarah had no idea how to answer. Samuel’s face immediately came to mind, and all the feelings she had for him burned through her veins… passionately… but Sarah did not think it was appropriate to say anything to the mayor when she had never yet told Samuel how she felt about him. Seeing a twinkle in the mayor’s eye, Sarah gave him a one-shouldered shrug.

“Okay, dear, I see. Perhaps that wasn’t a fair question. Hear me out, though. When you are married, when you have children, you want to love them with everything you have. You don’t want to hold back for the sake of being even-tempered, okay? Your papa became worried, thinking you were working so hard to behave like him that you would never learn how to let yourself truly love a husband and be able to express it spontaneously.

“He always felt that, had your mama lived, you would have had a healthier understanding about marriage and family and relationships and how people interact. Your mama was not only more outgoing and open with others, but she also brought out the best in your papa.”

“I remember them together,” Sarah interjected. “Papa was different before Mama died. I was young, though, and I saw things through little girl eyes. I didn’t understand the ways of men and women, so when Papa changed, I thought it was because I wasn’t enough for him. I was confused and didn’t understand yet that relationships between fathers and daughters were different than relationships between husbands and wives. As I got older, I began to understand his sadness wasn’t my fault. For some years, though, I did blame myself for the change in Papa.”

Mayor Smith nodded sagely, having already known. “Your father also worried you were going to give up on your dream of college because of him. He wanted you to pursue your dream and to do what was best for you, not to feel tied to this town or to him.”

The mayor paused, and Sarah spoke up, “I wanted to go to college, yes, but truly, it was mostly because I believed I would never get married.”

“Why did you feel that way about marriage?”

Sarah gazed into the fire for a long time before answering. Still avoiding eye contact with the mayor, she answered, “It’s silly, I guess, but it’s for the exact same reasons you already spoke about. I thought something was broken inside of me. Other girls felt giddy about or got infatuated with boys, but I never did. The idea of falling in love, getting married and having children didn’t excite me like it did other girls. I wanted to go to college so I wouldn’t be an embarrassment to Papa as I got older. It’s almost okay for a woman to be unmarried if she has a career, but it’s practically shameful to be unmarried simply because you never found anyone you wanted to marry.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

Sarah felt her cheeks heating with the telltale blush. As she puzzled over a way to answer the mayor, he asked a different question. “Do you still wish to go to college?”

“No,” was her firm reply. “I have no desire to go to college, not like Minnie does. I’m happy here in Larkspur. And believe it or not, I finally want to get married and raise a family. That is the desire of my heart. The world looks a little different to me now than it used to. After looking at what different women have to deal with in their lives, I see how wrong I was to think it was only okay to stay unmarried if you had a career. While I do want to get married, if it never happens, I won’t be ashamed.”

Smiling at her, the mayor nodded, “I’m glad you have found the desire of your heart. That was another thing on the little list I kept in my head for tonight.” The mayor lightly tapped the side of his head with his index finger as he mentioned the list.

Mayor Smith and Sarah sat in companionable silence for a while. As the shadows lengthened in the room, the mayor cleared his throat and broached another subject. “Do you mind if we speak about Samuel?”

Sarah’s tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth, and she felt another blush climbing up her cheeks. Not knowing what to say, she simply nodded her assent to the man sitting across from her.

“You have learned about Samuel’s history with the Secret Service as well as the business that brought him here to Larkspur.”

When Sarah nodded, he continued, “Did you know he asked me for your hand in marriage?”

Sarah’s shocked gasp echoed around the room. “Ah, I see that one came as a surprise,” Mayor Smith said with a smile. “I wasn’t sure how much the two of you had talked on this subject.”

Sarah, still too surprised to say anything, listened as the mayor continued. “Samuel is a good man, and I gave him my blessing. He came to me because he knew I cared about you. He felt, with your papa gone, I was the person he should speak to. To be honest, he did not ask for your hand. Perhaps I should rephrase. He told me of his intent to court and marry you. He didn’t ask me. He told me. I, in turn, asked him to please wait until the business in town was cleared up. I didn’t want you, or anyone else in town, getting Samuel confused with any of the ruffians that had shown up. Perception means a lot, perhaps more than it should, as we already discussed at dinner. People could have gotten the wrong idea about Samuel, though. Wrong ideas, depending on how pervasive, could have affected not only Samuel’s ability to do business here but could have also impacted you and any future children you may have. Samuel agreed to wait before openly pursuing you.”

“I am telling you all of this not to spoil the wonder of young love, but rather because I think you have an obligation to make sure you have prayed about this and that you are seeking God’s will. Samuel will come calling for you, and when he does, you need to be ready, knowing what God wants for you. This young man, I do believe, will not wait for long once he is recovered. If you agree to let him court you, I have a feeling you will be engaged with a ring on your finger right quickly.”

“If I were your daughter, what counsel would you give me?”

“Ah, Sarah, you are like a daughter to me, and this is an easy question to answer. I would tell you to follow God and that you have my blessing.”

“It would be okay with you if Samuel and I were to marry?”

“Absolutely, dear. If I had any reservations about him, I would tell you without hesitation. I’d tell him, too, for that matter. I have no reservations, though. He appears to be a good and godly man who is not only capable of providing for you and protecting you, but also of cherishing you and the family you build together.”

Sarah felt the pressure of tears building behind her eyes as she heard the husky emotion in the mayor’s voice. The mayor would never take her father’s place in her heart, but he certainly had a place there all his own, and it was a dear and treasured place.

Sarah and the mayor visited for a while longer about various topics until Sarah was ready to retire for the evening. She left the mayor and went toward the front of the house where Samuel’s room was. She checked on him one last time before heading upstairs. Sarah had to pass back by the mayor’s study on her way to the steps. She thought she heard voices and paused for a moment. She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but when she heard the mayor’s voice she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Lord,” he said, “I don’t know if it works this way or not, but can you let my friend know I’m doing the best I can for his daughter? He’d be so proud of her.” The mayor’s words ringing in her ears, Sarah finally made her way up the stairs and to bed.

****

The next week and a half passed by with Sarah stopping in to visit Samuel each morning and then sharing her supper with him in the evenings. They talked about many different things but did not focus on any serious topics. Sarah was less than thrilled to be returning to work when she wanted to be with Samuel, but after a day or two, she adjusted to the new schedule and realized how much she had missed being at the stage office. Everything had run smoothly in her absence, but she did have a lot of paperwork on which she needed to catch up. She was always amazed at how much paperwork was involved in both stage work and the handling of the mail.

Sarah had been delighted throughout the week to hear new and interesting news from various people. It appeared Sally, the woman who had made the triple layer chocolate cake, was soon to be married. She had been spending time with the young man who won her cake at the auction. He was easily ten to fifteen years her junior, but the two were obviously in love. Sally glowed in a way Sarah had never before seen. For as long as she’d known Sally, Sarah had thought the woman appeared to be carrying a heavy weight on her shoulders. She had always been exceptionally nice, one of the first to show kindness to others. Until Sarah saw the sparkle in Sally’s eyes and the bounce in her step this past week, though, she had never truly seen the woman joyful. Her sons were coming in for the wedding, which was to be held as soon as they arrived, and Sally couldn’t wait for them to meet the man she was going to marry.

Some of the townsfolk were treating Roger, her intended, with caution. It wasn’t usual for a young man to marry someone so much older. People figured he had sweet talked her and was after her farm. No one seemed to have any qualms about loudly voicing their opinions on the matter. Sarah began to understand what Mayor Smith had been talking about when he said perception matters. Gaining the trust of his neighbors would be difficult for Roger if the distrust with which they were already treating him was any indication.

The happy couple had already completed pre-marital counseling with Reverend Green, though, and the reverend seemed satisfied that Roger was sincere. While Reverend Green’s word might change some minds, it would not change all. Roger would have a difficult road ahead of him finding a place within this tight-knit community.

Sarah had only met Roger once. He had come into the stage office this past week to mail a letter. After completing his business, he had asked Sarah if she was going to question his intentions toward Sally.

“No,” Sarah had responded.

When he asked why not, she’d answered him, saying, “I assume you’ve already been questioned enough to have come up with some good lies if you’re not sincere.”

“And if I am sincere?” he’d asked.

Scrutinizing him, Sarah looked deeply into his eyes, and saw no guile. Knowing she wasn’t always the best judge of character, she told him, “I pray you are. Sally deserves no less.”

“Right you are,” Roger had replied as he tipped his hat and exited the stage office.

Sarah also saw Mrs. Jones during the week. The woman sent letters off to two of the men Sarah had selected for her. It would likely be a couple of weeks before any replies came back, but Sarah believed Mrs. Jones would hear back from the men she had written. She had much to offer, and Sarah had put a lot of prayer into her search through the letters to find matches for Mrs. Jones.

The Fitzgerald family had been keeping a low profile. The younger kids all came to town for school and went straight home afterward. Sarah had not seen any of the kids, but John, their teacher, had told her they all reverberated with tension. He had tried to ask one of the boys how Mary was doing and had been summarily told to stay out of the family’s business. Mary had not been seen in town at all, and Mr. Fitzgerald had only been seen at the saloon.

The mayor assured Sarah that Sheriff Spooner was keeping an eye on things. Sarah, for her part, prayed for the family daily but had not been granted leave to visit them again. Mr. Fitzgerald was simply too dangerous and unpredictable for Mayor Smith to allow her a trip out to the farm.

As Saturday came to a close, Sarah walked with a skip in her step toward her “second home” at Mayor and Mrs. Smith’s. Samuel appeared to be getting stronger each day, and Sarah was certain Doc would be releasing him soon. Sarah had high hopes for her relationship with Samuel. She thrilled at the memory of him telling her he would come courting. Excitement shot through her like lightning when she remembered Mayor Smith telling her Samuel had asked for her hand in marriage.

Sarah worked her bottom lip, though, as she recalled that Samuel himself had said nothing untoward since he had been shot. There had been no references made to getting to know her better, and he certainly had not alluded to marriage. She wondered if he had changed his mind, if something in her had pushed him away. While he seemed to enjoy her company just fine, she got no sense of the romantic from him. The intensity that used to be in his eyes, the look that would cause her to lose her train of thought and forget what she was going to say, seemed to be gone. In its place was the light-hearted gaze of a person who enjoyed her company, but who saw her as nothing more than a kind neighbor. He had only a short time ago been shot, though, which could explain a lot, Sarah told herself.

Because she secretly feared his answer, Sarah had not asked Samuel if his feelings for her had changed. She had kept her mouth closed up tight on the subject. The last thing she wanted was his rejection hanging between them while they were more or less living under the same roof. Determined to simply enjoy every moment she could have with him, she shoved thoughts of the future aside. If he had changed his mind, then he would be walking out of her life someday, and she wanted a chance to store up as many memories of him as she could before anything like that happened.

Chapter Eighteen

Sarah arrived at the mayor’s house, but Samuel was not in his room. She knew he had been up and walking around increasingly each day, but this was the first time he had ventured outside the sitting room that had been converted for his use.

Before she could go in search of Mrs. Smith or Minnie, Sarah heard a commotion on the stairs. Doc Billingsly slowly came down, followed by Samuel and Minnie. Samuel collapsed into a chair in the foyer. He seemed winded but did not look as ashen as Sarah might have expected.

Questions jumbled through Sarah’s mind, looking for an escape. She chose the most innocuous question she could think of to voice. “How long has this been going on?”

Three pairs of eyes shot straight to Sarah’s face, guilt clearly pooled in each. Doc made excuses about house calls and swiftly made his escape through the front door. Minnie heard an imaginary voice calling her from the kitchen and beat a hasty retreat in that direction. Samuel remained in his chair, looking sheepish.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Isn’t this rushing things a bit?”

Samuel laughed and answered, “It’s not my legs that got shot. I’m fine. Besides, Doc says I can go home tomorrow. Gotta get my strength up so I can walk the distance to John and Ida’s house.”

“You can’t possibly be thinking of walking that far!” Sarah exclaimed. “Surely a buggy would be better.”

Sarah was so busy ringing her hands and watching Samuel’s body for signs of wavering or weakness that she missed the twinkle in his eyes and the smile on his lips. When she finally did notice them, she sank into the only other chair in the foyer. “It’s not polite to jest at a lady’s expense, you know.”

“Ah,” said Samuel, “but it is sometimes too much fun to resist.”

With that, Samuel got up and moved his chair nearer to Sarah’s and then sank back down into it. She noticed he was using a cane and eyed it warily.

“It’s merely a precaution,” Samuel told her, “in case I suddenly feel weak. I’ve hardly needed it.”

Sarah was tempted to worry there might be something more going on that no one was telling her, but she secretly found the cane to be dashing. It gave Samuel quite a debonair look. The word rapscallion came to mind.

“Sarah,” said Samuel. “You have been such a help to me these past several days. Each day has been brightened with your wonderful company. I want to thank you. You have been the highlight of my recovery.”

Certain she heard a “but” coming next, Sarah merely peered at Samuel. Uncertain of exactly where this conversation was going, she watched his face for any indication of the direction he was heading with those remarks, but his eyes gave nothing away. They reflected kindness and compassion, but she saw nothing deeper in them, no true affection, no love. Sarah had sensed this day coming.

Tensing in anticipation, she knew Samuel was going to kindly thanking her for her friendship and cast her aside. She had worked, twisted and molded this scenario in her mind several different ways and always came to the same conclusion. Nothing was going to take away the memories she had of Samuel, and she wanted to be able to treasure every single one of those memories. There would be no memory of him breaking off a relationship that had never truly had a chance to start; she would see to it. Samuel would not be allowed to discard her or say the words she knew would pierce her heart worse than a thousand sharp daggers. If she was going to spend the rest of her life looking back on her time with this man, she wanted to remember him in a good light with no memory of him telling her they were not meant to be more than friends.

Sarah hadn’t been certain what she would do, but as soon as Samuel started thanking her politely, she made up her mind. She gave him the brightest smile she had to offer. She poured into that singular smile all of her admiration and gratitude for the things about life and herself that he had helped her to see.

There had been so many changes in her heart these past weeks, all thanks to Samuel’s presence in her life. He had awakened her to the potential of a closer, more personal relationship with her Savior. He had shown her how important it is to care for other people compassionately and deeply, not merely on the surface. He had helped her to realize compassion needs to be backed up with action if you want it to be meaningful. Sarah had learned from Samuel that a person can be both light-hearted and even downright fun while still being responsible and committed. Her life would never be the same.

Knowing she did not want a brush off from Samuel to color the picture of him she held in her heart, Sarah stood, back straight, confidence in every line of her body.

“Thank you, Samuel. I, too, have enjoyed our friendship. Spending time with you these last couple of weeks has been enjoyable. The way in which I look at both the world and God has been forever changed. I wish you all the best in your life and your endeavors here in Larkspur. This town is blessed to have you.”

Unable to resist one last touch, Sarah held out her hand. Samuel reached out and enveloped her hand in his, simply holding it, not shaking it as she had intended.

****

Samuel sat there, Sarah standing before him. Her hand was in his, and he had no intention of letting go until she gave him her full attention. Despite his earlier bravado, he was not quite strong enough yet to want to risk standing up while he had a hold on Sarah, afraid he would topple them both if he lost his balance. Instead, he remained sitting, looking up at her.

The doctor had mentioned some gossip in town to him. Knowing Sarah would be the one to get burned, Samuel had not wanted to add fuel to that particular fire. In addition, he wanted to honor Mayor and Mrs. Smith while he was a guest in their home, even more so because Sarah was presently residing in their home also. If he started something with Sarah, Samuel wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself from following through. Though he knew she was okay, the strong emotions that had overwhelmed him when he believed she had been killed still simmered right under the surface, looking for an outlet. For these reasons, Samuel had kept things strictly friendly between them, even more so when other people were present. He had thought he was protecting Sarah, but clearly he had taken it a bit too far if she was planning to walk out of his life with nothing more than well-wishes and a handshake.

****

“Sarah,” he said in an unusually somber voice. “Will you please look at me?”

When he gripped her hand without giving her the handshake she’d expected, Sarah’s eyes began scouring every inch of their surroundings, every inch except Samuel’s face. He wasn’t letting go of her hand, and she didn’t know what to do. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but, as testament to the growth and change in her, she did not flee. She was confident God would see her through, and that confidence radiated from her, even though her heart was being squeezed by painful bands of turmoil.

She lifted her eyes to Samuel’s, and as their eyes connected, she gasped softly at what she saw. At the same time, she heard his quick intake of breath.

****

Samuel looked deeply into Sarah’s eyes. He was awed to see the woman standing before him. The girl he had been steadily falling in love with all these weeks was gone. A woman of wisdom and integrity had taken her place. Maybe no one else would notice the change in her eyes, but he saw it clearly. Even though she would have rather had her say and leave, she was standing her ground, solid on her feet, looking him square in the eyes. He had thought her beautiful before, but this new Sarah was breathtaking. The beauty that shown forth from her drew him like a lighthouse beacon to a lost fisherman. Looking into her eyes, Samuel felt as though, for the first time in many a year, he had come home.

****

Looking into Samuel’s eyes, Sarah saw what she had been missing since the shooting. She hadn’t even known what to call it but had simply known it was absent. Now that she saw it there in Samuel’s eyes, though, she knew exactly what it was: passion. Before her stood a man who was not only responsible and committed, but rather a man who was also passionate. Passionate about his life, passionate about his faith, passionate about his path, and passionate about her.

The look in Samuel’s eyes danced into Sarah’s heart and eradicated the bands squeezing it so torturously. His gaze sent a fire burning through her, and yet she felt no pain. What she saw in Samuel’s eyes rooted her to the spot, grounded her, reached into her soul, and left her feeling as though she’d been enveloped in a bone-crushing embrace. Sarah peered deeply into Samuel’s eyes and saw the passion with which he would protect her, provide for her, and cherish her.

“Oh,” softly escaped Sarah’s lips as a whisper. She sank back into her seat, her hand still enveloped in Samuel’s.

“Marry me.” That was it. Just two words. No big flowery speech. No declarations of undying love. No poems about her beauty. Just two words. Two words spoken softly in an almost guttural whisper. Two words that turned Sarah’s world upside down and inside out.

“I was going to leave. It seemed as though your feelings had changed and you were trying to let me down easy.”

Sarah could see the truth of his feelings in Samuel’s eyes, but she wanted to understand the sudden change. Her answer was not in question, but she still wanted an explanation.

****

“I know.” Samuel paused before offering a softly spoken and heartfelt, “I’m sorry.” He went on, his voice gaining in strength. “I was trying to be a good guest. I was trying to get all of my strength back before I declared myself to you. I was trying… don’t ever leave. Marry me.”

Samuel’s words were raspy with restraint. He wanted to pull this woman into his arms, claim her mouth as his own, and never let her go. He didn’t want her to ever be out of his sight again. The terror that followed the shooting, not knowing whether or not she was safe, the nightmares where he saw her die a thousand deaths, they all still haunted him. He wanted Sarah where he could see her, touch her, smell her, feel her, so he could continue to reassure himself she was alive and well and safe. The self control it took for him to remain sitting here in this spot, holding nothing but her hand, had every muscle in his body clenched.

Sarah gazed into his eyes, and he had the feeling that she was trying to see clear to his soul. Not knowing what else to do, he let down the barriers he normally kept in place and hoped that she could see all of his feelings for her as she continued to look deeply into his eyes.

A genuine smile that told Samuel many wonderful things finally broke through and shone on Sarah’s face. She leaned in and softly kissed him on the cheek, her lips soft against the unshaven roughness of his skin.

Sitting back, Sarah put her free hand on top of the hand he was using to hold hers. Looking straight into his eyes, she said with bold confidence, “I love you Samuel Livingston. We need to talk and get to know each other better. I know much about you, but I don’t in actual fact know any of those things from you. Can we learn to talk to each other and be open with one another? Being less guarded – I… I know I need to work on it. If you can agree that we need to work together to build what we have into something lasting and fantastic, then yes, I will marry you. It would be an honor and a privilege to call you husband.”

Samuel did stand then, using his cane for balance. Once he was steady on his feet, he pulled Sarah up to stand before him. Cupping her face tenderly in his hands, he leaned in to kiss her. He paused right before their lips touched, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted. When she didn’t move, he closed the rest of the distance between them.

****

Sarah had never been kissed by a man before. She didn’t quite know what to expect. The tenderness Samuel showed her, the gentleness with which he kissed her, moved her in a way that made her treasure this man all the more. Needing his strength to keep her steady, she lifted her hands to his shoulders. Her hands worked their way into clutching the fabric of his shirt, and she leaned into Samuel further, wanting to be closer to this man whom she loved, oblivious to the power she held over him.

Samuel broke the kiss off and stepped away from her. Sarah felt bereft and alone and hot and cold all at once. She touched her lips with the fingertips of her right hand and said with wonder, “That was amazing.”

The kiss left her wanting… she wasn’t quite sure what, but “wanting” was the only way she could think to describe her feelings. She wanted to see if Samuel felt the same awe she felt, and she raised her eyes to look into his. What she saw there took her breath away. Maybe someday she would tell Mayor Smith that passion could be both a degree and a type of feeling. With an inner chuckle at the thought, Sarah realized that even now Samuel was teaching her new things about life and love and how to live.

“How quickly can we be married?” Sarah was the one to ask the question. She wondered if she was being too forward, but she was fairly certain Samuel should not kiss her like that again until they were married. Oh how she wanted him to kiss her like that again. A wedding couldn’t come soon enough to suit Sarah.

“Saturday,” was Samuel’s clipped reply.

Laughter burst from Sarah and bounced around the foyer. For once Sarah thought she might have to work on Samuel’s sense of humor. If his expression was anything to go by, he definitely did not find anything worth laughing about in their present situation.

Delighted to find that her future husband was at a loss for words, Sarah wanted to tease him a bit. “But Samuel, today is Saturday. Surely you don’t mean for us to wed today?”

“Give me a week,” barked Samuel. “We’ll wed next Saturday.”

Sarah closed the distance between the two of them once again. She stood up on her tiptoes and gave Samuel a chaste kiss on the cheek. Deciding not to play with fire, she backed quickly away and said, “Next Saturday it is. I’ll take care of the arrangements.” With that, she was out the door, happier than she ever remembered being.

****

The days flew by. A cloud of euphoria surrounded Sarah as she planned for her wedding day. She and Samuel had decided to move into her home once they wed. Sarah, Minnie, and Ida spent the week cleaning and airing it out. After these past weeks of staying with the Smiths, her own home had started to feel musty and neglected. Sarah immediately wanted to make everything new for her soon-to-be husband – new curtains, new linens, new wallpaper – the works! In the short period of time left to prepare, though, such ambition was unrealistic.

“Everything is fine the way it is,” Samuel had told her when she’d grumbled to him about the condition of her home. “If you want to take the time to change everything in that house, then I’m simply going to have to move away until you’re done.” When Sarah, appalled at what he’d said, started to protest, he’d put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her to his side and said, “It’s like this, Sarah. I don’t know how much longer I can resist kissing you. If you want to postpone the wedding to fix up your house, that’s fine. I will just have to leave town until you’re done because I don’t think I can resist kissing you again long enough for you to do everything you want to do.” That was the day that Sarah decided her house was perfect just the way it was.

One evening, while they were dining with John and Ida, Samuel told her about his day. He had participated in an open meeting with the city council to discuss his proposal to build a hotel. ”Everyone voted to approve the hotel. It was gratifying to see the town’s trust in me.”

“Where will this hotel go?” Sarah wondered.

“It will be located between town and the stage office. I want it to be convenient for visitors coming in on the stage while still being accessible to the townsfolk who might want to enjoy the dining room.”

“In fact,” Samuel continued, “I went to the land office today to see about buying the parcels I want. As it turns out,” he said with a dramatic wave of his hand, “my future bride owns all the land I need and a whole lot more.” When everyone, including Sarah, looked at him in surprise, he explained. “Your father,” he said, looking at his fiancé, “bought up parcels of land over the years, all on the stage office end of town. Do you have any idea why?”

“I’d forgotten about those parcels. He mentioned them in his will, something about thinking that’s where the railroad would come someday and wanting to provide for me. I don’t remember the details.”

“Your father did right by you,” Samuel said. “He built up a nice little nest egg for you. Your father was a lot wilier than anyone’s given him credit for, too. I expect you’ll see the railroad here within two to five years, and that will indeed be the side of town they want for building their tracks. They’ll have to buy the land from you in order to build. I could be wrong – it has been known to happen – but I do think your father made some wise investment choices.”

Sarah began to think of her father in a new light. She was still young when he was taken from her, barely a woman by most standards, and their relationship was still developing; only she hadn’t been mature enough at the time to realize it. Had he lived, she believed they would have had a rich relationship as she grew into adulthood. Sarah was saddened anew that they would never have the opportunity, but it made her cherish the memories of her father even more. She was buoyed by the promise that she would see him again in heaven someday.

Speaking to Samuel later that same evening as he walked her home, Sarah told him, “I know it shouldn’t, but I have to be honest, it tickles me to realize my father was a bit of a gambler.” At Samuel’s look of inquiry, she told him, “Papa was always so reliable in everything he did, so steady. I guess I thought of him as boring, even though I don’t think I realized it at the time. Gambling is frowned upon, and I understand why, but the way Papa bought all that land up – it was a gamble of sorts. That tells me my papa had a more adventurous spirit than I’d realized. It makes me feel closer to him somehow.”

****

Sarah and Samuel’s big day arrived brisk and beautiful. The sky was a bold shade of blue, and the church was filled to capacity. People who had watched Sarah grow up her entire life came to see her wed. Other people came because they had recently gotten to know Samuel and respected him, either for what he did in protecting the town from outlaws, or for what they believed he would do in the future for the town by building a hotel and hopefully bringing in more commerce. One thing was true, though – everyone wished this couple well.

Sarah wore her mother’s wedding dress. With a couple of minor alterations, the dress had been ready to go. It was not a style of dress she normally would have selected for herself. For her wedding day, though, she wanted to feel the presence of both her mama and papa here with her, and wearing her mama’s dress helped.

Sarah was a sight to behold in the rose colored silk. The fitted bodice was snug and showed off her shape to advantage. It had been designed for use with a corset, which Sarah donned. She did not wear the corset overly tight, but nonetheless, it emphasized the smallness of her waist while bringing much more emphasis to her bosom than she would have ever considered acceptable under other circumstances. The scooped neckline was a little on the low side, and the sleeves were capped high on her arms with more flounce than she was accustomed to. There was an almost transparent overlay of lace resting across the silk. Sewn into the lace were beads and faux jewels, causing Sarah to shimmer with every step she took.

Minnie had done Sarah’s hair. It stood in a beautiful twist atop her head, with a couple of loose curls allowed to flow down and frame her face. Ida loaned Sarah a veil and gloves.

Sarah stood in the foyer of the church as everyone was seated. Mayor Smith stood beside her, ready to walk her down the aisle when the music began. As they waited, Sarah mulled over the timing of Samuel’s arrival in town. God had brought him into her life at the exact right moment. He’d seen an ad she hadn’t even know about, an ad that was supposed to find her a husband. Because of that ad, he’d altered his plans, arriving in town much sooner than he’d originally intended. He came to her rescue that first day they met and had been rescuing her every day since in so many different ways. Today she was going to marry Samuel, her very own mail order man.

As she smiled at the thought, Mayor Smith spoke up, “Your papa would be truly proud of you, Sarah.”

Trying to lighten the mood so she wouldn’t be overcome with emotion, Sarah quipped, “Because I’m marrying such a handsome man, you think?”

The mayor cupped Sarah’s chin with paternal tenderness and gave her his no-nonsense-mayor look. “Because you are a woman who knows her own mind, who loves others, who cares about the less fortunate, and who follows God both with her heart and her actions.”

Releasing her chin, the mayor held out his left arm for Sarah. She threaded her hand through, resting it on his arm right below the crook of his elbow. He placed his right hand atop hers and, as the music began, asked, “Are you ready to go marry that handsome man of yours now?”

With a light chuckle, the two proceeded down the aisle.

Epilogue

Larkspur, Idaho Territory

1884

Samuel had not been far off. Almost exactly five years after they had wed, the railroad approached them about buying land to come through town. Sarah had let Samuel handle all of the negotiations. His business acumen left her in little doubt that he would do what was best for them as well as for the town. The railroad did not go in overnight; construction takes time. As a new spring was upon them, though, the railroad was getting ready to launch.

The Martinez family now ran the stage office. A couple of years of drought had made this a good choice for the family. They had done a fantastic job with it, too. Sarah knew her papa would be proud to see what the family had accomplished with the stage office as the town had grown. There would still be a stage coming to Larkspur until the trains got more regular, but the family was prepared. Thanks to a sound proposal Mr. Martinez had presented to the railroad people, the business would now be called the Larkspur Stage and Railway Office.

From where she stood on the front porch of Larkspur’s hotel, Sarah was able to look out toward the railroad. She came out here most mornings and felt that, from her vantage point, she was able to watch the changes coming to Larkspur. It was almost like looking into the future, she would tell Samuel.

Thoughts of Samuel warmed her heart as Sarah thought back over the years since they had wed. Sarah’s life before Samuel was boring by comparison. Everywhere he went he seemed to bring life with him, painting the world around him in bright vibrant colors when before it had been only monochromatic. She loved the color that Samuel brought into her life and never wanted to go back to the way she had been before.

“Hey love,” came the voice behind her.

She hadn’t heard him come out but was glad he had joined her on the porch. Leaning back into Samuel’s broad chest, Sarah sighed. They didn’t get many moments alone together, so she always cherished it when they did.

Altering his original design plans for the hotel, Samuel had added living accommodations for his family onto the back area of the ground floor. Not everyone would enjoy living in a hotel, but Sarah had taken to it quite nicely, much to his delight.

The early months of their marriage had shown them both that she was never going to be an extraordinary cook. Samuel loved his wife dearly and would never have said or done anything to hurt her feelings. When he first broached the subject with her about them having living quarters at the hotel, her first question was, “Does this mean we would take our meals in the dining room?”

Samuel’s sincere answer of, “We can eat in the dining room whenever you want to, but we don’t ever have to eat there,” was met with a shriek as Sarah jumped up and hugged him with a near stranglehold around his neck.

After kissing her husband soundly, Sarah exclaimed, “I’ve never wanted to say so, because I know it’s my job, but I’ve got to be honest. I can’t stand cooking! And I’m lousy at it, too! I don’t even like my own food. I’m worse at cooking than I am at making coffee! How you’ve been able to put up with it I’ll never know! Could we truly eat in the dining room? That won’t get too expensive?”

Samuel assured her they could eat every meal in the dining room if she desired. Over time they also put a table in the kitchen so the family could eat in there whenever they wanted more privacy and for those times when the dining room was too full.

Leaning back into her husband now, Sarah asked, “Where’s Ethan?”

“Your son, my dear, is taking a bath under the careful watch of the kitchen staff.”

“A bath? It’s barely sunrise. What happened?”

“I never knew one child could get into so much mischief. He asked if the fireplace was hot. I said, ‘No, it’s not hot right now.’ He apparently thought I mean it was okay to climb into the fireplace. It took less than a minute for me to turn around, but by the time I did, he was black from head to foot. All I could see were his eyes and teeth when he beamed at me as if he’d discovered gravity.”

“Do you think we’ll ever have any more children?”

Sarah had longed for a passel of children. They had been married for more than three years before Ethan came along, though, and so far there had been no siblings. She was content with the life God had given her, but she still wondered sometimes what it would be like to have a daughter, and she certainly thought it would be good for Ethan to have siblings. Being an only child had been rather lonely for her, and she wanted something more for her son.

“I think, love,” Samuel began softly, “that God grows families in all sorts of ways.”

****

Watching Sarah, waiting for the moment when she would realize what he was saying, Samuel continued, “Ida is my family, and I grew up with her, but her mother did not birth me.”

Sarah pivoted to look at her husband, her expression hopeful, “Are you thinking something specific?”

Samuel’s eyes wandered off toward the railroad and then back to Sarah. “I have heard talk recently of an orphanage up in Montana. It’s been mentioned to me several times, actually, in passing. When I hear something over and over again, it makes me wonder if God is trying to tell me something.”

“Adoption?” asked Sarah on a whisper.

“Would you be okay with that? Raising children who were not your own?”

“Oh Samuel, but they would be our own! If God sees fit to bless me with another pregnancy, I will care for and love that child with all my heart, but my heart is not so small that I could only love children I had birthed. Could we really adopt?”

“We don’t want to rush into this. I will write to the orphanage to see what I can learn, and in the meantime, we will keep this in prayer. This is a child’s life we’re talking about, and we want to make sure we are not rushing ahead of God.”

Sarah nodded, enthusiasm giving cadence to the motion. Samuel added cautiously, “Adopted children aren’t always easy. Sometimes they are angry and defiant, carrying deep hurts and fears that don’t show on the surface.”

Samuel was remembering back to his childhood when Ida’s family had taken him into their home. Though they had long ago ceased to have power over him, some of those memories were still painful. Resting her hand on his cheek she said, “Sometimes those angry defiant children turn into amazing wonderful people. They simply need love and patience.”

Samuel gazed down into Sarah’s eyes and knew with certainty that, while Sarah may see the future when she looked out of town toward the railroad, all he had to do was look into her eyes to see his future. Every step of it was going to be an adventure as long as he had this woman by his side.

About the Author

Heather Gray has lived in almost as many states as she has fingers, but she thinks of Idaho and Virginia as home. Aside from her long-standing love affair with coffee, Heather’s greatest joys in life are her husband and children as well as her relationship with her Savior. She decided years ago that she would rather laugh than yell. She carries that theme over into her writing where she strives to create characters that experience both the highs and lows of life and, through it all, find a way to love God and laugh out loud right along with her.

Also from Astraea Press

Chapter One

Strawberry Junction, Texas

April 1875

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Anna rushed her children inside, managing to tie the leather thong to hold the door closed before the deluge began.

Lightning slashed the sky, illuminating the kitchen and six-year-old Beth’s wide eyes. Zach used to read to their daughter when a storm scared her like this.

Tears stabbed the backs of her eyes, and Anna pressed one hand against her stomach. “It’s okay, Beth. It’s just a storm.” The words would do little to soothe her daughter. Nothing much had since…

Anna stifled the thought. Now wasn’t the time to drag up memories that were best left where they were. “Sam, would you light the lantern, please?”

Sam, looking much older than his eight years, nodded and headed to the fireplace to retrieve the matches. “Mama, since we can’t play outside, maybe we could play charades.”

The offer was made as much for Beth’s benefit as his own. Sam knew how the ravages of nature terrified his sister. No matter how many times Zach had tried to comfort her, explain to her the reason for the storms, nothing mattered except the sound of his voice during those dark times.

“Well, that certainly sounds like fun. Beth,” she touched the top of her daughter’s blonde head, “do you want to help me set the table?”

Blue eyes as big as wagon wheels, Beth looked up at her and bobbed her head. She didn’t stray too far from Anna’s side on the short walk into the small kitchen, and, once there, she dug one hand into Anna’s skirts and held on.

The wind kicked up a notch, and the weather beaten rocking chair on the front porch creaked eerily. Beth whimpered and buried her face into the dark blue muslin.

Fighting back the tears that never seemed to really go away, she knelt and took her daughter into her arms. “What did daddy tell you about thunderstorms, Elizabeth?”

Sam finished lighting the lantern and joined them in the kitchen, answering for his sister. “That they were just God’s way of cleaning things up a bit. The air gets dusty, and sometimes, a good rain is needed. Besides that, farmers depend upon the rain.” He recited the words as though reading from a schoolbook.

Anna favored him with a smile. “Thank you, Sam.” She indicated the plates still stacked up beside the sink with a jerk of her head. “Would you please set the table for me?”

Sam shuffled toward the sink and scooped up the plates, stopping at the stove to take a quick sniff of the stew bubbling in the old cast iron pot. “Sure smells good, Ma. Pa always did like a good stew on nights like this.”

Beth’s arms crept around Anna’s neck and held on. As her small body began to shake, Anna sighed. Tonight, she would sit up with her daughter to keep the nightmares at bay, stroke her hair, and tell her everything would be all right.

And in her heart, she was lying. She didn’t know everything was going to be all right, and, perhaps, in her heart, she didn’t really believe it would.

She’d lost her husband, and the children had lost their father. How could anything be all right again?

****

The first drop of rain plopped against the rim of his hat quickly followed by several more until Daniel found himself caught in the middle of a gully-washer. Thunder growled so loudly he couldn't hear himself think, and he spurred his horse into a faster trot.

“Come on, Sonny. Let's get out of this weather.”

The stallion snorted and responded to the request for speed, shaking his glistening black head back and forth.

“Yeah, I know. I'll make sure you're bedded down where it's good and warm tonight. Looks like this storm's going to last a while.” He tipped his face toward the darkened sky and got a mouthful of rainwater.

Shouts up ahead drew his attention, and he reined Sonny in. The horse whinnied and pulled to one side, bringing Daniel alongside a man in a long black overcoat. “What's going on?”

“Water's up over the bridge. Can't pass through here!”

Daniel flicked his gaze ahead briefly, never quite taking his eyes off the man in his path. He didn't need his instincts to tell him the fellow was up to no good, but he thanked the Lord for them anyway. He just happened to know there was no bridge ahead since he'd studied the map thoroughly before ever leaving Austin.

“Is that so?”

The man nodded his head and pointed his finger off the road. “I've got a barn you're welcome to take shelter in for the night. Looks like we're in for a bad one. News in town is the rain's gonna be around for a while.”

“I appreciate your kind offer, friend, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to take my chances. I'm expected in town.”

The man shifted, giving Daniel a glance of a holster tied to his thigh. “Don’t think you want to do that, Mister.” The threat was obvious, though the man's voice was shaky.

“Why don't you tell me exactly what it is you want since I know there's not a bridge anywhere in this town?” The man's hand flew to his holster, but Daniel was faster and leveled his Colt at the man's forehead. “Now, I'll ask you again. What do you want?”

Both hands went up in the air. “N-nothing much! I-I was just...my wife is expectin', and there hadn't been much work around these parts lately. Don't got a lot of money.”

Daniel shifted in the saddle as the rain slipped between his coat and his shirt, creating a wet trail down his spine. “And how is your ending up in jail going to help your wife?”

“Aww, now, there ain't no call to get the law involved.”

Sliding his coat to one side, Daniel gave the fellow a good look at the gold star inside the circle pinned to his chest. “The law's already involved. I'm a Texas Ranger.” He jerked his head toward the man's gun. “That got any bullets in it?”

Sheepishly, the man shook his head and held it up for inspection. “I ain't never been a good shot, so my wife always hides the bullets.”

Daniel repressed a smile. He couldn't blame a man for trying to feed his family, but the law was the law. He'd sworn to uphold it. Of course, there was always room for leniency when no harm had been done. “What's your name?”

“Roy...Roy Eckers. My wife and I have a place a little ways up the road from here. Just a small piece of farmland, but we hadn't had a good rain long enough to grow any crop.”

“Well, it seems like you got a good one now.” Cupping both hands around the pommel, he pinned Roy with a steely gaze. “I tell you what I'm going to do. You give me that gun of yours and get yourself back on up to your house, and we'll forget this ever happened. But if I ever see you with another gun, I'll have to arrest you. Understood?”

Roy slipped and slid over the mud in his desperate haste to get the gun into Daniel's hand. “Thank you, Mr. Lawman. I 'preciate that so much. Wife's due any day now. You're absolutely right. My being behind bars wouldn't do her any good.”

Daniel nodded. “And first thing tomorrow morning, Mr. Eckers, you come to the sheriff's office to see me. I might have a job for you that'll give you some breathing room until you can build your crop back up.”

Sweeping his hat from his head, Roy stared up at him as the rain drenched his face. “You gonna give me a job after I tried to rob ya?”

With a smile, Daniel spurred Sonny on. “I'll see you tomorrow morning then, Roy.”

****

Strawberry Junction—a small town where everyone knew everyone, and they liked it that way. The Mayor had already warned Daniel that intruders weren't always welcome, especially one who'd come to take the dearly departed sheriff's place.

Reining Sonny in next to only hotel in town, he dismounted and secured the straps of leather to keep the stallion in place. “I'll be right back out to get you, Sonny. Just need to get settled in is all.” He unhitched his saddle bag and slung it over one shoulder.

He climbed the steps into Miss Sally's Boarding House and hesitated at the door, realizing three sets of identical eyes peered out at him through the glistening window. He favored the three young girls with a smile that sent them all ducking. Grinning, he opened the door.

A portly woman with dimpled cheeks and bright red hair secured in a bun bustled forward, wiping her hands on a white apron tied loosely around her waist. “You must be Ranger Cochran. I'm Sally Henderson. The mayor said you'd be coming in this evening. What terrible weather to be ridin' in. You’re probably chilled to the bone. I've already told my husband to bring up some hot water for a bath for you, and you can hang your clothes up to dry in front of the fireplace.”

Without pausing to give him time to speak, she hurried toward the stairs. “Your room's the first one on the right. Not much, but it's clean and well kept. My girls and I take care of that. And speaking of my girls, here they are.” She turned toward the three young ladies he'd seen at the window, resting her hand on each head in turn as she introduced them.

“This is Jane, Jenny, and June. My husband and I were a shocked as could be when the doctor told us we had three of 'em. Still haven't quite figured that out yet, but we've been blessed.”

Daniel couldn't stop smiling as the woman rattled on. Though a bit on the talkative side, she was a breath of fresh air compared to the men he'd been traveling with for the past month or so. They'd all pretty much kept to themselves, their mission to stay alert, stay alive, and protect the law-abiding citizens of Texas. Not too much time was spent socializing.

Mrs. Henderson puffed her way up the stairs, pausing at the second landing to catch her breath. “Water closet's at the end of the hallway. Right now, you're our only customer so you'll have it all to yourself. My family and I share one down stairs. Breakfast is at seven sharp, but,” she threw a cheerful smile over her shoulder, “I don't mind keeping you a plate warm if you've a mind to sleep in. Sheriff Hampton didn't usually get into the office until eight-thirty or so 'cause he liked to walk his kids to school and spend some time talking with the townsfolk.”

She finally reached the first door and turned the knob. “Well, come on in then and make yourself to home. Don't know how familiar you are with Strawberry Junction, but the telegraph office is across the street in case you need to be checking in with anyone.” Face flushed, she turned to stare at him. “You don't talk much, do you?”

A full-fledged grin spread over his face. “I can usually hold my own in a conversation.” He didn't add that this hadn't exactly been a conversation as much as a recital. He doubted it would be news to this exuberant woman. It was obvious she had her hands full running a hotel and raising three daughters. Probably not a whole lot of time for getting to know folks, especially if they were just coming through.

Sally harumphed and pointed toward the bed as if he needed help finding it. “There's the bed. The wash basin's over there next to the window, and there's a razor strap hanging next to the vanity. My husband, Nate, will check on you to see if you need anything a woman ought not be knowing about.”

Daniel realized for the first time he hadn't removed his hat. “Begging your pardon, ma'am.” He lifted the broad-rimmed hat and removed it from his tousled hair. “I don't usually forget my manners.”

She beamed at him. “It's quite all right, Ranger Cochran. Why don't you go ahead and get yourself situated, and I'll fix you a plate of beans and cornbread? We ate about an hour ago, but they should still be warm.”

“That sounds just fine.”

The woman turned to leave, paused at the door. “Ranger, I do feel like it's my Christian duty to tell you the hurt in this town runs deep. Sheriff Hampton wasn't just a lawman; he was one of us, a member of the town and our family. So don't be too surprised if you get a cold shoulder now and then.” She lifted one of her own shoulders sheepishly. “We all tend to stick together here.”

“And I find that a commendable trait, Mrs. Henderson.” He ran one hand through his hair and eyed the bed. His body exhausted, he couldn't wait to crawl beneath the sheets and get a good night's rest before tackling his new duties. “I'd be beholden to you if you could show me where the livery is. I need to get my horse stabled for the night.”

“That big black stallion out front was yours?”

Alarm raced through Daniel's veins. “Was?” He strode toward the window overlooking the street. Sonny was nowhere in sight.

“No need to be all concerned. My husband done took him to the livery for you, got him all settled down, I'm sure. He's like that for all of our customers. Figured you'd driven too far to go back out into that rain now.”

Sally Henderson stepped out into the hallway. “You just holler if you need something, Ranger.” She paused. “And regardless of what anyone says, I'm glad you're here. Some things just ain't been right in this town, and I suspect it's high-time we got ourselves another lawman.”

Daniel thanked her for her overabundance of information and the promise of a hot meal then he fell on the bed the second the door closed.

****

Anna breathed in the deep, rain-rinsed air, swinging the basket of eggs lightly as she walked into town. The previous night's cleansing rain had left the air smelling fresh, lifting her spirits. The sunshine warmed the bonnet covering her head, and for the first time in a long time, she actually felt a bit more positive. Which was exactly why she'd left her chores behind today.

She needed this walk. It was a chance to clear her head, sell some eggs to Mr. Baker at the mercantile, and hopefully, find a job. That was the determination she'd come to during her restless night.

She needed a job. Something to occupy her time. Sure Zach's stipend helped them enough to keep food on the table and clothes on their back, and the cabin was paid for, but the extra money would come in handy. And it would keep her from thinking too much. Remembering too much.

The familiar bustle of the town beckoned her, and she held one hand against her bonnet to hold it in place as a gust of wind whipped her skirts around her legs. She greeted several ladies she hadn't seen in a while and wasn't surprised to see them whispering as she walked by.

She didn't come to town much, preferring to send Sam to get what they needed from the store. That way, she didn't have to see the pity on the faces of the people who'd once been her neighbors. Even visiting Mrs. Waverly, who was like a grandmother to her, was too close to town for her own liking. But today, well, today, was just going to be different.

The bell over the door leading into the mercantile tinkled, and the scents of cinnamon and licorice wafted toward her, reminding her of happier times. For a moment, her mind drifted back. Images of Zach bursting into the house holding a bag of licorice high over his head while Sam and Beth tried to reach it made her grip the door know so tightly her knuckles whitened.

“Mrs. Hampton! It's so good to see you again.” Madeline Baker rushed out from behind the merchant counter, extending her hands. “Why, I haven't seen you since...” The words stilled, and the woman winced. “I'm so sorry.”

Anna managed a stiff nod. Your husband's funeral. That was what Mrs. Baker had intended to say. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach, and suddenly, this didn't seem like a good idea after all. The images wouldn't go away, and for a second, she swore she heard Zach's voice, that gentle rumble telling her everything was going to be all right.

Feeling light-headed, she stumbled back. The older woman reached out to catch her. “Perhaps you should sit down.” Genuine worry creased Mrs. Baker's forehead. She'd always been a caring woman, one of the first to welcome Anna to Strawberry Junction.

Anna opened her mouth to reply, but a wave of nausea welled in the pit of her stomach. She clutched one hand over her abdomen. “I-I...you'll have to excuse me, Mrs. Baker. I'm not feeling very well.” She rushed out of the store and into the street, the blood draining from her face. Leaning against a post, she gulped in deep breaths of air.

“Ma'am? Are you all right?”

The deep voice startled her, and she jumped. The basket of eggs dropped from her fingers, but a black-gloved hand shot out, catching it before it could make contact with the planks. “I-I'm fine.” She closed her hand around the handle, careful to avoid touching the man's hand. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure? You look mighty pale.”

Was she fine? No, anything but. She'd tried. Had really believed she’d convinced herself this time would be different, but everywhere she looked, everything she heard, smelled, touched, reminded her of Zach. She couldn't do this. Maybe it was time to move. She'd heard a lot of good things about Corpus Christi. Surely the children would like living so close to the coast.

“Ma'am?” Leather brushed her wrist, just the slightest touch, like the kiss of a butterfly's wing, but Anna recoiled. He immediately withdrew his hand. “My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you.”

“Y-you didn't. I just…” She broke off, the ability to explain fading as quickly as her courage.

“Would you like me to see you home?”

Anna finally tipped her head back to see the face behind the voice, and the knot in her stomach began to dissipate. The man was strikingly handsome, dark hair, green eyes, and just enough of a beard to look like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. Broad shoulders and a kind smile—a man her daddy would have called “the trustin' kind”.

Realizing, she was staring, she dropped her gaze. The sun glinted off metal, immediately drawing her attention to the star pinned to his vest. Her defenses went up.

Snagging the basket free from his grasp, she inclined her head. “As I said, I'm fine. Thank you for catching my basket.” She quickly turned to leave, knowing it was rude, but desperately needing to get away before the tears began.

It had been the star. Though it was different from the one Zach had worn, it was still the sign of a lawman, and the knowledge was enough to erase any other thought from her mind.

****

Daniel watched her hurry away, his shoulder resting against the same post. He'd seen something in the woman's eyes. Was it pain? Fear? Had he scared her? And if so, how?

“Oh, you'll have to excuse her, Mr. Cochran. That's Mrs. Hampton—the sheriff's wife, and since she lost her husband not quite a year ago, she's not been herself.” Mrs. Baker was quick to explain.

His lips curved into a smile. Though a pleasant and charitable woman, Mrs. Baker had quickly identified herself as the town gossip, or the purveyor of information as she'd called herself.

In just one hour, he'd learned that the saloon had recently closed down, though no one had really learned why, the new Reverend was single and obviously looking for a bride, a man his age should have already been married by now, and Mrs. Baker's daughter just happened to be of marrying age. Oh, and he could have fresh coffee beans on the house just like she'd done for Sheriff Hampton.

With her ongoing stream of information, Madeline Baker eclipsed Sally Henderson's exuberance.

“I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Baker. I'll be sure to pass along my condolences when I see her at church Sunday.”

Mrs. Baker laid a plump hand on his arm. “Oh, the poor thing doesn't come to church anymore. I imagine she's just hurting too much inside right now.” She paused, pursed her lips. “Did you say church? You attend church?”

Daniel tipped his hat. “Yes, Ma’am. Every Sunday.”

She clasped one hand to her heart. “I’m so thankful the Lord done sent us another God-fearing man, especially,” she paused for effect, “a single one. Lots of pretty girls around here needing a good man.”

Chuckling, Daniel stepped off the wooden sidewalk. “You have a good day, Mrs. Baker, and I'll be sure to pick up some of those beans first thing tomorrow morning.”

“See that you do.”

He didn't have any doubt the woman would deliver them if he didn't show up. With a grin, he crossed the street and pushed open the door to the late sheriff's office.

Though the interim sheriff had maintained the law, he hadn't been as efficient about order. The top of the desk was a mess, and cobwebs lurked in every corner. Dust layered at least an inch think on top of every available surface, and the floor looked like it hadn't been swept in, well, he didn't know how long.

Well, no time like the present to get busy. He cast a swift glance at the overhead clock. Closing in on ten o'clock and no sigh of Roy Eckers. Reckon he'd have to make a trip out to the man's house this evening if he didn't bother to show.

The door banged open against the wall, and Roy shuffled in, his hat in his hands and an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry 'bout that, Ranger.”

“The door or for being late?” Daniel took in the man's bedraggled appearance and figured he'd spent a soggy night in the barn. No doubt he and Mrs. Eckers differed on the manner in which he should procure money.

Roy lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Both, I reckon.”

Daniel couldn't resist smiling. “We'll just forget about it then.”

Scratching the balding spot on the top of his head, Roy squinted. “I ain't got you figured out yet, Ranger.”

He'd heard that one before. “Well, when you do, you can let me know what you decide. Until then, how about grabbing a broom and—”

Roy recoiled as though he'd been snake bit. “You mean you want me to sweep?”

“What's wrong with sweeping?”

“That's woman's work!”

Daniel sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with the side of his hand. “Not today it isn't. You need a job. I've got one to offer you.” He walked across the dusty floor and snatched the broom from the corner. Extending it, he waited patiently for Roy to take it. “Well?”

Roy eyed the broom and the door. “You'll pay a fair wage?”

“A dollar a day.”

His eyes lit up. “Well, that's more than fair, I'd say.” Roy snatched the broom and hurried over to the back of the room, beginning to sweep with long, gutsy strokes.

Daniel continued to grin as he turned back to the desk. Now, it was time for him to get to work, and he doubted it was going to be pleasant…for anyone in Strawberry Junction.

****

“Mama, did you know we got a new sheriff in town?” Sam stuck his fork in a piece of chicken, scooting it around his plate.

That must have been the man with the star. It hadn’t looked like an ordinary sheriff’s badge, but he’d definitely been a lawman. Anna’s blood chilled at the thought. “Did you hear that at school?”

“Yes’m,” Beth chimed in. “Becky said Mrs. Baker said he came riding into town last night and that he’s going to be staying at the boarding house for a while.”

“And he's not married.” Sam chewed a mouthful of mashed potatoes while Anna choked on a swallow of coffee.

“What? What does that have to do with anything?” Already the blood flowed to her face, heating her cheeks.

One thin shoulder lifting in a shrug, Sam took particular interest in his biscuit. “Mrs. Baker said he might be looking for a wife while he’s here. She said men need wives, and women need husbands.”

Beth bobbed her head in agreement. “That’s what she said, Mama, and she also said her daughter was gonna be at church Sunday.” She brushed the crumbs off of her mouth with the back of her hand before wrinkling her nose. “Mrs. Baker wants the new sheriff to court her daughter.”

“But she said he was looking at you.” Sam studied her with eyes all-too-knowing for a boy his age.

Anna shoved her chair back so abruptly, wood scraped on wood in a loud screech of protest. Pushing herself to her feet, she carried her barely empty plate to the rough-hewn corner table. “Well, that’s neither here nor there. Now, let’s finish up.”

Sam’s fork clinked against the tin plate several times, drawing Anna’s gaze to his face. He looked deep in thought, as though he were trying to work up the nerve to say something else.

Anna’s stomach knotted. Sam picked up on things any ordinary eight-year-old probably wouldn’t. Maybe it was because of Zach’s death, but either way, her son didn’t miss much, which was why his next words shouldn’t have surprised her.

“What if he wanted to court you, Mama?”

She was surprised anyway. “Me?” Her hands fisted in her skirts. “That’s ridiculous. Now finish your dinner.”

Sam poked at another piece of chicken. “Why’s it ridiculous? You’re pretty, and you ain’t too old to court.”

Her temples beginning to throb, Anna rounded the table and scooted Beth closer to her plate. “We don’t need to have this discussion, Sam. There won’t be any courting here.”

Beth’s lower lip wobbled. “You think you’ll ever court again, Mama?”

Kneeling in between her children, Anna wrapped her son in a hug with one arm and Beth with the other. “I don’t know. To be honest, it’s not really something I think about. But I’ll tell you what I do think about—” When both sets of eyes were trained on her face, she continued, “The two of you. You’re what matters most to me in this world, and my greatest desire is to raise you both to be strong, kind, and loving adults. If I do that, then I’ll know I’ve lived a good life. Now, finish your dinner.”

Anna straightened and summoned a smile. “And once your homework is done, I'll read you a story.” She tried to inject excitement into her voice, and her efforts were rewarded with matching smiles from her children.

Feeling a small measure of relief, she got to her feet. Leaving her kids at the table, she hurried into her bedroom, closed the door, and tried to cry quietly.

There was no way to explain to her children the depth of pain she endured at even the thought of courting. She couldn’t imagine loving another man the way she’d loved Zach—the way she still loved him.

****

“Ranger Cochran! Ranger Cochran!” Sweating profusely, the rotund mayor of Strawberry Junction pushed his way into the sheriff's office, using a handkerchief to mop his forehead. “We got trouble.”

Daniel was on his feet and around the desk before the mayor could say anything else. “What is it?”

“There's a rumor going about town that one of the Barnaby boys done robbed a bank in Porter Hills, and he's headed this way loaded for bear. He's a mean one, Ranger. Left town a year or so back, said he was going to Gold Country to find his fortune.”

As the man continued to ramble, Daniel secured his holster and settled his hat atop his head. Tuning out the sound of the mayor's concern, he closed his eyes and said a quick prayer.

“Ranger?” Roy danced nervously from foot to foot. “You...uh...need someone to come with you...uh...deputy-like?”

Daniel placed a hand on the man's shoulder before lifting his coat free from the hook next to the door. “I appreciate it, Roy, but I think I'd better assess the situation first. Lead the way, Mayor.”

“You got awful quiet back there, Ranger. Are you nervous?” The shakiness of the mayor's voice told of his own anxiety.

Daniel smiled. “Well, I always have a healthy dose of wariness when I confront anyone with a loaded gun, but remembering that I'm not the one in control always helps to calm my nerves.”

Mayor Rawlins trotted along beside him. “Not the one in control? What do you mean you're not the one in control?” The man's voice had risen by an octave. “If you're not, who is? I was assured you were the perfect man for this job. Did the Rangers make a mistake in sending you?”

Spurs clinking, Daniel came to a stop and faced the man, looking him square in the eye as his father had taught him. “I didn't mean to scare you, Mayor. I only meant that God's in control.”

Rawlins blinked once, twice, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh. Well, good grief. Why didn't you just say so? I know that, but right now, we need a man with a gun.” As the words slipped past his fleshy lips, a shot rang out.

Astraea Press

Pure. Fiction.

www.astraeapress.com

Table of Contents

Mail Order Man

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

About the Author

Also from Astraea Press