Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) (6 page)

Yes, why? "Curious is all. I can't quite picture you sweatin'
over a cookstove-or cleaning, for that matter. And yet that's
exactly what you would have found yourself doing had you
married Benjamin Broughton. That and tending to his two
daughters. Have you ever taken responsibility for small children, Miss Woodward?"

Her ginger-colored eyebrows rose in curiosity as her face
puckered with clear irritation. "I think that is none of your
business, Mr. Callahan."

"How disappointed were you when the arrangement didn't
work out?" he pushed, unsure himself where the inquiry was
leading, but having an inkling. And for just an instant, he
questioned his sanity. "Did you feel desperate-thwarted uncertain of your future? Were you depending on Ben to lend
you a sense of security?"

Openly confused, if not confounded, she gaped at him. "I
believe I'll go check on Emma. Perhaps she..."

Just when she would have escaped, he grabbed her by the
wrist and stopped her midstride. Flecks of gold shimmered in
her blue-green eyes when she met his gaze. "Don't you want to
hear my proposition?" he asked, surprising himself with his
raspy tone.

She yanked her hand from his grasp, but stayed rooted in
place. "Just what are you talking about, Mr. Callahan?"

Tonight he would probably walk into the barn and invite
Nell to give him a kick, but he had to ask the question.

"What would you say to gettin' hitched with me instead?"

Mary, Queen of Scots, he wasn't serious.

He produced a tremulous smile. "Why not? You obviously wanted a husband, and I need a wife. It seems a simple
exchange. For keeping house and taking care of the kids, you
could have a place to call your own. It's not much, mind you,
probably nothing like what you're accustomed to, but it's better
than staying holed up in a boardinghouse with a bunch of
undesirables. You said yourself you sold all your possessions
before coming to Kentucky and that you wanted to settle
eventually. You seem to like Rachel and Seth, and they-well,
they'll get used to you," he said.

"In other words, you want a maid, or perhaps a slave
better describes your fancy." Rivers of disgust ran through her
veins. Had she really appeared so desperate that he thought
she'd accept any proposal to escape her situation? Perhaps she
should have gone back to Winchester after all-even though
she'd felt so strongly about coming to Kentucky.

Dear God, have I completely misread Your will for my life?

"Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him: fret not
thyself..." Although the psalmist's words brought comfort, they didn't bring her closer to an answer. In the meantime,
a man she didn't know-didn't like, for that matter-stood
before her with an offer of marriage.

"Miss Woodward, a slave is not free to come and go. You,
on the other hand, may leave if the arrangement doesn't suit
you.

"The `arrangement'? You make this sound like a business
deal."

He lifted one dark brow before issuing a bland smile.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that what you were working out with Benjamin Broughton? He paid for your arrival in
Kentucky in return for your consent to marry"

Brought to shame, she had little to say in her defenseexcept for one thing. "Benjamin Broughton is a Christian
man.

His mouth twisted into a mocking smile. "I'm not exactly
a heathen."

"You certainly don't strike me as a joyful person, Mr. Callahan. When was the last time you attended services?"

His expression went from cynical to somber as he shifted
his stance and stuffed his hands into his deep pockets, his blue
gaze going flat with recollection. "I once called myself a Christian, but those days have escaped me."

"There, you see?" She turned away from him, but he
stepped in front of her, blocking her passage with his rockhard frame.

"If you're worried that I'll interfere in your faith, you can
rest assured I pose no threat." The faintest glint of humor
etched across his face. "Who knows? Maybe you'll even persuade me to see things differently."

That alone brought her near to caving in. Marriage, after
all, would solve the problem of her inheritance.

Not that she had any great plans for the money.

Perhaps an even greater sense of pleasure would come in
showering Rachel and Seth with large amounts of love and
affection. Heaven knew Rocky Callahan wasn't capable.

Dear Father, what am I thinking?

But her heartfelt prayer went unfinished when the kitchen
door swung open and Emma, Rachel, and Seth crossed the
threshold, each with a tray in hand, one carrying a plate of
cookies, one with five tin cups, and the third a tall pitcher of
fresh milk. It wasn't iced tea, Sarah mused, but it would suffice
to wet her arid throat.

Emma's face lit with concern. "Are we interrupting anything?"

"No." Sarah's smile didn't quite reach her eyes when she
looked at the threesome. "Mr. Callahan and I were simply
enjoying mindless chatter." She glanced at him. "We're quite
done." She put quiet emphasis on that last part.

Rather than view his reaction to that, Sarah walked across
the room and turned her attention to the children, as one
cookie after another slipped down their open gullets. They
-backed on the edge of the sofa and ate cookies with
sat stiff
as much manners as could be expected. She herself couldn't
have swallowed one morsel if her life depended on it. She did,
however, sip at the cold milk while she watched.

Out of the corner of one eye, she dared to snag a tiny
peek at Mr. Callahan. Still standing where she'd left him, he'd
dropped his hands to his sides and, like everyone else, was
watching Rachel and Seth. Either he was deeply regretting his ridiculous proposal, or he was peeved at Sarah for brushing him off. Either way, his glum expression signified his sour
mood.

When it looked like the children's appetites had slowed,
Sarah went for the dress, holding it up for Rachel's perusal.
The little girl released a breathy gasp. "Oh, it's pretty," she
said, something in her countenance holding leashed delight,
as if she wanted to explode with it but knew the risks of letting
go. She met Sarah in the middle of the room. "May I touch it?"
she asked in a near whisper.

"Honey, you may do more than that," Sarah said. "You
may try it on. I'll need to know where to put the hem."

"Oh." Rachel seemed awestruck by the notion of actually
putting on the garment. Her fingers traced a slow pattern up
and down the skirt as if to memorize its every detail. Slowly her
eyes went to the shiny, gold buttons, and Sarah heard another
quick intake of air.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

A tiny nod told her she did. "Mama never could afford me
a new dress before."

Sadness crawled under Sarah's skin. Not for the first time
she thought about the countless dresses packed within her
trunk and Rocky's rebuff when she'd offered the material from
one of them to fashion Rachel another dress.

One dress should do her for now. Anger, new and righteous,
sprouted wings and flew about the room. "I'll make you
another if you like," she announced. She felt the man's eyes
come to rest on her, but she resisted the urge to look at him.
Her uplifted chin should tell him that she meant to do it with
or without his approval.

"Can you make me somethin', too?" asked Seth, his slender body molded into Emma's side in the overstuffed chair
they shared.

Oh, Lord, these children need so much.

"Seth, mind your manners," Rocky said, his brows knit
together in a frown. "It isn't polite to ask for gifts."

Feeling especially bold and driven by the child's strong
sense of need, Sarah blinked her eyes and said, "Of course I
can make you something. Or perhaps I'll buy you a toy. How
would that be?"

"A toy?" asked Seth. It was the most she'd heard from the
little boy since first meeting him.

"You don't need a toy," Rocky said, seemingly making
every effort to deflate his tender spirit.

In preparation for a showdown with Mr. Callahan, Sarah
prayed for strength. Then, drawing back her shoulders, she
leveled the beastly man with her best glare. "Every little boy
needs a toy, Mr. Callahan. And since I stitched his sister a
dress, all the more reason the toy should come from me."

Matching her glare, he stretched to his tallest, which in Sarah's estimation meant nearly reaching the ceiling. "The girl had
need of a new dress, Miss Woodward. A toy is no necessity."

Sensing the growing tension in the room, Emma rubbed
her hands together and stood, plastering on a cheery smile.
"Rachel, how about I take you to the back room so you can
try on this lovely dress?" she suggested. Rachel jumped to her
feet. "Seth, you come too," Emma added. "I have a job for you
in the kitchen."

The boy crawled off the couch and took Emma's hand.
Rachel took the other, and the three left the room.

And in an instant, Sarah and Rocky were alone again.

Rocky stewed on the way to the barn later that night. Naturally, the children had sulked all the way home, his boorish attitude rubbing off on them, and vice versa. Even Rachel,
although she loved her new dress and had hugged it close to
her chest on the drive back, had remained grim and sourfaced. No doubt she would be sticking to her promise not to
speak to him for the remainder of the week. Well, fine.

Cold night air chewed through his thin coat. He must
remember to bring his heavier jacket out of the shed come
morning. A blanket of clouds hid any trace of a winter moon,
and if his guess were right, snow or sleet would come before
midnight.

He dragged in a shivery breath before entering the barn.
Nothing had gone as planned, particularly after the ridiculous scene he'd caused with regard to Sarah's offer to buy Seth
a toy. In reality, he supposed she was right; one good turn
deserved another, even though the concept went against his
principles. As far as he was concerned, human need always
overruled one's wants and wishes.

He thought about the spirited redhead who'd challenged
him. No doubt, if she didn't before, she surely now considered
him a pigheaded oaf, not to mention argumentative and selfseeking. No wonder she'd turned down his offer of marriage
after he'd brought the matter up once again before leaving.

Oh, she must be laughing into her pillow about now, just
imagining sharing a house with the likes of him. For crying
in a bucket! He could barely stand himself. What would ever make him think anyone else would want to live under the same
roof with him?

Sarah stood at her bedroom window, watching as townsfolk hurried from place to place, winter winds keeping most
from dawdling in the streets as they might have been inclined
to do on a warmer day.

Exactly one week had passed since Rocky Callahan's proposal of marriage and her rejection of the offer. Since then,
he'd failed to mention it again, despite the fact she'd seen him
twice more. The first time was when she'd presented Rachel
with another dress, this one, to Rocky's utter chagrin, fashioned from one of her own gowns. The second time, she'd
delivered an eight-inch toy soldier to Seth. She'd wondered
how she was going to manage giving the gift to him, and was
thankful when she'd spotted them coming into town just yesterday. Hurriedly, she'd gathered up the toy along with her
skirts and met them on the street.