Sarah's Choice (13 page)

Sarah chuckled. “Sam did that when I was pregnant with Sammy. When we couldn’t make a decision, we finally decided to call the baby Sam Jr. if it was a boy.”

“William said that if our baby’s a boy he doesn’t want to name it after himself. He said William Covington IV would be a bit too much.”

Sarah smiled. “You could always call him Willy.”

“Oh sure, and then with your Willis and our Willy, everyone would be confused.”

“Well, maybe it’ll be a girl, and then you can call her Betsy.”

“No way. One Betsy in the family’s enough. If it’s a girl, I think we might name her Rebekah. I’ve always liked that name, and we can call her Becky for short.”

“So how are you?” Sarah asked. “You said you’re not feeling chipper. Does that mean you’re not feeling well?”

Betsy nodded slowly. “My stomach’s been real queasy, especially in the mornings, which I realize now is because I’m pregnant. I also tire easily.”

“Maybe you should be at home resting instead of coming over here to help me every day.” Sarah slipped her arm around Betsy’s waist. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to help just because you said you would. Things have changed, and your health and the health of your baby should come first.”

“But you need someone’s help here. Taking care of the lock, watching the children, baking bread, and keeping house—it’s all too much for one person to do alone.”

“I’ll manage somehow. Sammy will be out of school soon, and he’ll help me as much as he can.”

Betsy bent down and picked up one of Helen’s little gingham dresses. “Let’s just wait and see how I feel in the days ahead, okay?”

Sarah nodded. “But I want you to promise that if you need to quit you’ll say so.”

“I promise.”

As Patrick approached the lock tender’s house, he spotted Sarah and Betsy standing near the clothesline, and his heartbeat picked up speed. Sarah’s long dark hair hung down her back in gentle waves, and the floppy sunbonnet her son had given her was perched on her head. Despite the fact that she wore a faded yellow dress that was obviously well-worn, he thought she looked beautiful. He wished Betsy wasn’t here so he could talk to Sarah in private, but he hoped that once he approached them Betsy would go inside.

“Top of the morning to you,” Patrick said, stepping between the two women and smiling at Sarah. “Sure is a nice day, wouldn’t ya say?”

She gave a nod. “I just wish it wasn’t so warm and muggy.”

“It’s that, all right.” He gave Betsy a slight nod. “Did ya come to help Sarah again today?”

“Yes, I sure did, and I’d better get inside and see how the children are doing. It was nice seeing you, Patrick.” Betsy turned and headed for the house.

“Came to see if you have any bread,” Patrick said, moving closer to Sarah.

“Yes, I made some last night. I’ll go get a loaf from the kitchen.” Sarah turned toward the house.

“I’ll go with you.” Patrick hurried along beside her. “I also came by to see if there’s anything you’d like me to do while I’m here.”

“That’s kind of you, but I can’t think of anything right now. ”

Sarah opened the door to the house, and as they stepped into the kitchen, Patrick was greeted by a yappy little dog.

Woof! Woof! Woof!
The wiry terrier bared its teeth and snapped at Patrick’s pant leg.

“Bristle Face, no!” Sarah pointed to the braided throw rug in front of the sink. “Go lie down!”

The dog slunk off to the rug, growling all the way.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know what’s wrong with him this morning. He’s usually friendly to everyone and rarely ever growls.”

“He don’t like everyone, Mama,” Willis said as he and his little sister entered the room. “Some folks he don’t like a’tall—same as me. I don’t like everyone neither.”

Patrick gritted his teeth.
That boy is sure rude. I bet all three of Sarah’s kids are probably too much for her to handle. I think what they need is a father who can teach them some manners
.

Sarah shook her finger at Willis. “That’s not a nice way to talk, son. You shouldn’t dislike anyone.”

“Sorry,” Willis mumbled.

Sarah turned to face Patrick. “How many loaves of bread did you want?”

“Just one for now. When I run out, I’ll be back for more.” Patrick looked over at the children, wishing they’d go back to wherever they’d been before he came into the house with Sarah. “What’d you two have for breakfast this morning?” he asked when he noticed a blob of something stuck to Helen’s dress.

“We had mush,” Willis answered.

“We had mush,” Helen echoed.

Patrick wrinkled his nose. “I’ve never cared much for mush, unless it’s covered in maple syrup.”

“We can’t afford maple syrup,” Sarah said. “We use melted brown sugar instead.”

“Maybe I’ll bring you some maple syrup sometime.”

“There’s no need for that. My kids are fine using brown sugar.” Sarah handed Patrick a loaf of bread. “Here you go.”

Patrick paid Sarah. “Thanks a lot. I’m sure it’s real tasty bread.”

“I hope you’ll excuse me, but I need to get the rest of my laundry hung out, and then I have some other chores to do when I’m not letting boats through the lock.”

Patrick was tempted to hang around while Sarah did her chores but figured she might not appreciate it. Besides, he had some things of his own to get done at the blacksmith shop. So he picked up the bread and headed for the door. “I’ll see you soon, Sarah,” he called over his shoulder.

“Sure will be glad when we get to Walnutport,” Ned said, joining Elias at the bow of the boat. “I’m just about outa chewin’ tobacco, and I’m hopin’ you’ll stop at Cooper’s store so I can get some more.”

Elias frowned. “Chewing’s a nasty habit, Ned. You should give it up and spend your money on something more constructive.”

“Can’t think of nothin’ I’d rather spend my money on. Unless maybe it’s for a bottle of whiskey.”

“Whiskey’s a tool of the devil. It’ll take you down, sure thing.”

Ned shrugged his shoulders. “It’s my life, and I’ll go down any way I choose.”

“I know it’s your life, but the Bible says—”

“Don’t care what the Bible says and don’t need ya preachin’ to me neither.”

“I didn’t mean it as preaching, I just wanted you to—”

“Whoa! Whoa there!” Bobby shouted.

“What’s wrong?” Elias turned his attention to the towpath. “Oh no, one of the mules is down.” He steered the boat toward shore.

“Daisy stepped in a rut, and I think her leg’s broken,” Bobby said, eyes wide with obvious concern. “I can see the bone stickin’ out.”

“Now that’s just great,” Ned mumbled. “The last thing we need is a dead mule.”

“She’s not dead,” Elias said. “Bobby said he thinks she’s broken her leg.”

Ned slowly shook his head. “We can’t fix her leg.”

Daisy kept braying and trying to get up. Elias wished there was something he could do to help the poor mule.

“Look, boss, the critter has to be put out of her misery. Now I’m goin’ below to get my gun.”

Elias stood there in stunned silence. With only one mule, they’d never get to Mauch Chunk for another load of coal. They’d have to stop in Walnutport for sure now and see if they could find another mule.

T
hat afternoon, Elias’s boat limped into Walnutport with only one mule pulling for all she was worth. While Elias and Ned went to speak with Mike Cooper about getting another mule, Bobby stayed outside to keep an eye on the boat and feed and water Dolly.

Entering Cooper’s store, Elias spotted Mike behind the counter, waiting on Bart Jarmon, a burly boatman. Elias held back and waited until Bart had exited the store, then he stepped up to the counter.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mike said. “What can I help you with?”

“I need a new mule and was hoping you might know where I can find one.”

Mike’s eyebrows rose. “What do you need a mule for? I thought you had two good ones.”

“I did, but one of them stepped in a hole and broke her leg. Ned had to put her down.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Mike fingered his mustache. “Let’s see now… . I think Patrick O’Grady, the town’s blacksmith, traded some of his work for a mule awhile back.”

“Maybe I’ll head over there.”

Elias found Ned at the back of the store, no doubt in search of his chewing tobacco. “Mike says the blacksmith has a mule he might be willing to sell, so I’m going over to his shop and see if he’s there.”

Ned gave a nod. “Sure, go right ahead. I’ll get what I’m needin’ here and wait for ya at the boat.”

“Hopefully I won’t be too long.” Elias turned and headed out the door.

Patrick had just finished putting new shoes on the doctor’s horse when that fancy-talking boatman with the red blotch on his face showed up.

“I lost one of my mules, and Mike Cooper mentioned that you might have one I could buy,” Elias said, stepping up to Patrick.

Patrick nodded. “I do have a mule. Somebody who couldn’t pay for my services gave her to me a few weeks ago. Not sure what I’m gonna do with her, though. So if you’re interested you can have her for fifty dollars.”

Elias scratched the side of his head. “Guess that’s a fair enough price.”

“I think so, since a lot of mules go for as much as seventy-five dollars.”

“Has your mule ever pulled a canal boat?”

“Sure thing. Least that’s what her owner said when he gave her to me.”

“Okay, good.” Elias reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the money, which he handed to Patrick. “Guess I’d better get the mule and be on my way, because I want to make a quick stop to see Sammy Turner.”

Patrick’s eyebrows lifted. “Sarah’s son?”

“Uh-huh. The boy led my mules while my helper, Ned, was tending the lock for Sarah after she fell and hurt her ribs.”

“I heard about that. Ever since Sarah’s husband died, she’s been real protective of her kids. I was surprised she’d allow Sammy to go with you.”

Elias leaned against Patrick’s workbench. “Well, she didn’t exactly say he could go. Sammy took off without her permission.”

“I’m sure she was upset about that.”

“She was at first, but Sarah seems to be an understanding woman, and after I apologized and explained everything, she was quite nice about it.”