Sarah's Choice (4 page)

Maria shook her head stubbornly. “I’ll be fine; I just need to rest awhile.”

“When Dr. McGrath examined Maria’s eyes a few weeks ago, he said her vision’s getting worse,” Sarah said.

Betsy’s pale blond hair, which she’d worn down, swished across her shoulder as she knelt on the floor in front of where Maria sat. “If you moved back to Easton, you’d have access to a hospital and many good doctors, and you’d be cared for in your son’s house and wouldn’t have the responsibility for caring for Sarah’s three active children.”

Tears welled in Maria’s eyes. “I…I love those kids, and I couldn’t move away and leave Sarah alone with no one to watch them. Who would take care of things while she’s outside tending the lock?”

“I’ll manage somehow,” Sarah said with a catch in her voice.

“Maybe I can come over to help out when things aren’t real busy at the store,” Kelly volunteered.

“Better yet, I can come over here to help out.” Betsy looked at Maria. “Would you be willing to move back to Easton if I did that?”

Before Maria could reply, the low moan of a conch shell floated through the door that Kelly had left open.

Sarah stood. “A boat’s coming through, and I need to go out and open the lock. We’ll have to finish this discussion when I come back.”

A
s soon as Sarah ran out the front door, she realized there was more than one boat waiting to come through the lock. In fact, there were three.

“Oh great,” she moaned. “It’ll take me forever to get back inside.”

Lifting the edge of her long gray skirt, she hurried to open the first set of gates. Once the boat was completely in, she closed the gates and opened the wickets in the lower set of gates so that water flowed out of the lock, allowing the boat to drop slowly. Then the next set of gates was opened, allowing the mules to pull the boat on down the canal.

As the second boat came through the lock, Sarah’s face contorted. The captain of the boat was Bart Jarmon, a tall burly man with thick black hair and a full, wooly-looking beard to match. Bart’s foul mouth and overbearing ways were bad enough to deal with, but ever since Sam had died, Bart had often made suggestive remarks whenever he saw Sarah. Once, he’d even been so bold as to suggest that the two of them should get hitched, saying she could quit her job as lock tender and spend her days on his boat, cooking, cleaning, and washing his dirty clothes.

This canal would have to freeze over solid in the middle of summer before I’d ever consider marrying someone like Bart
. Sarah gritted her teeth.
And what kind of stepfather would he make for my kids?

She thought about the time, before Betsy married Pastor William, when Bart had gone to Betsy’s place to pick up some clothes she’d washed for him. She could still see the look of disgust on Betsy’s face when she’d later confided that after Bart had boldly kissed her, she’d thrown his wet shirt at him and told him never to come back.

Bart would be a lot wetter than he was then if he tried something like that with me
, Sarah thought.
I’d push him into the muddy canal if he even looked like he was going to kiss me!

Much to Sarah’s relief, Bart wasn’t steering the boat. His helper, Clem Smith, an elderly man with several missing teeth, was at the tiller. Sarah figured Bart was probably below on his bunk, sleeping off the effects from the whiskey he’d likely had the night before.

Sarah exchanged only a few words with Clem and kept her mind on the business at hand. She knew how dangerous it could be for a lock tender who didn’t pay close attention to what they were doing. Some lock tenders had gotten knocked over when they tried to get the pin in the wicket with one hand while they cranked with the other. If Sarah said more than a few words to any of the boatmen, it was usually after she’d finished the dangerous details of opening and closing the lock.

After Bart’s boat passed through the lock, the next one came in, steered by Elias Brooks, the new boatman Sarah had met on his last trip through.

“My helper said you might have some bread to sell,” Elias called to her.

She gave a quick nod. “There’s some in the house.”

“I’d like to buy a couple of loaves if you have any to spare.” Elias pulled his fingers through his thick reddish-blond hair, cut just below his ears.

Sarah noticed for the first time that he had a large red blotch on his left cheek. No doubt, he’d been born with it.

She pulled her gaze quickly away for fear that he would think she’d been staring at him. “I’ll get the bread as soon as your boat goes through. If you have time, you can tie up to one of the posts along the bank.”

Elias looked at Ned, as though seeking his approval. Ned turned his hands palms up. “Guess we’ll have to ‘cause we do need the bread.”

“That’s what we’ll do,” Elias said with a nod.

Sarah did her job, and after Elias’s boat made it through the lock, he maneuvered the boat toward the bank, while she hurried to the house to get the bread.

When she stepped inside, she stuck her head into the parlor. Maria was still on the sofa, and Kelly and Betsy sat in the chairs across from her.

“Where’s Pastor William?” Sarah asked.

“He went to get Dr. McGrath,” Betsy replied.

Sarah had been so busy with the boats that she hadn’t seen the pastor leave her house.

“I need to take some bread to one of the boatmen,” she said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Kelly smiled. “No problem. Take your time.”

Sarah rushed into the kitchen, grabbed two loaves of bread, and ran out the door. She was halfway up the wooden plank leading to Elias’s boat when her foot caught on a loose board, and one of the loaves flew out of her hands. She lunged for it, and gasped when it plopped into the canal.

Elias raced down the ramp and grabbed Sarah’s arm. “Are you okay?”

Sarah’s face heated as she nodded slowly. She felt like a clumsy fool. “I–I’m so sorry, but I dropped one of your loaves of bread into the canal.”

Quack! Quack! Quack!
A pair of mallard ducks landed on the water and quickly converged on the bread.

“Well, at least it won’t go to waste,” Elias said with a chuckle.

Sarah handed him the one good loaf. “I’ll go back to the house and get you another.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Elias said. “That way you won’t have to come back out here again.”

“At least not until another boat comes,” Sarah muttered. This had not been a good way to begin her day.

Elias waited on the porch while Sarah went into the house. When she entered the kitchen to get another loaf of bread, Bristle Face, the scruffy-looking terrier Betsy had given them several months ago, ran in front of her, and she nearly lost her balance.

Sarah looked at Willis, who sat at the kitchen table with Helen and their cousins. “Would you please hold on to the dog until I’ve gone back outside?”

“Sure, Mama.”

Sarah stuck her head into the parlor again. “Is everything okay in here?”

“Maria’s sleeping,” Betsy whispered. “Are you done outside?”

“Not yet. I accidentally dropped a loaf of bread into the canal and had to get a new one.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Kelly asked.

“I think everything’s under control. Elias Brooks is waiting outside for his bread, and he was very nice about the bread I dropped. I’ll just be a few more minutes.”

Sarah hurried outside, and found Elias sitting on the porch step, talking with his young mule driver, as well as Sammy, who’d just gotten home from school.

“Do you get to do much fishing in the canal?” Elias asked Sammy.

Sammy shook his head. “Used to fish some when Papa was alive.” He glanced up at Sarah. “Mama’s too busy for fishin’, and she won’t let me fish alone.”

“Sure wish I had time to go fishin’.” Bobby stared at the canal with a wistful expression. “But I guess that’s never gonna happen ‘cause I’m too busy leadin’ the mules.”

“Maybe some Sunday we can do some fishing,” Elias said.

Bobby’s eyes lit up, and so did Sammy’s. “Ya mean it?” Bobby asked.

Elias nodded. “Sure thing.”

“Can I fish with ya?” Sammy asked.

“If we’re anywhere near here on a Sunday, we’d be happy to have you join us. That is, if your mother doesn’t mind.” Elias looked up at Sarah, as if to gauge her response.

“I—I don’t know.” Sarah leaned on the porch railing. She became edgy any time her children got too close to the water. After Sam had been killed, she’d been more nervous than ever.

Sammy tugged on the edge of Sarah’s apron. “Please, Mama. Can I go fishin’ with Bobby and the nice man?”

Not wishing to create a scene or embarrass Sammy, Sarah patted the top of his head and said, “We’ll have to wait and see how it goes.” Secretly, she hoped that Elias never stopped anywhere near Walnutport on a Sunday.

A
s Sarah, followed by Sammy, approached their front door, Pastor William showed up with the doctor.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Dr. McGrath. As you know, Maria hasn’t been feeling well for some time. Earlier today, she fell and hit her head because she couldn’t see where she was going.” Sarah drew in a quick breath. “I’m really worried about her, and we’ve been trying to talk her into moving to Easton to live with her son, Roger, but she refuses to go.”

Dr. McGrath nodded his nearly bald head. “Pastor William has already filled me in. So let’s go inside, and after I’ve examined Maria, I’ll see if I can convince her to move.”

“I appreciate that.”

As Dr. McGrath and Pastor William headed for the parlor, Sarah ushered Sammy into the kitchen where the other children were playing.

“Is…is Grandma gonna die, Mama?” Sammy’s chin trembled, and his blue eyes widened.

“No, son, but she’s losing her eyesight, and it’s not good for her to be here anymore. She needs to be in Easton where she can get help for her eyes and have someone to take care of her.”

“I’ll take care of her, and I’ll keep an eye on Helen and Willis, too. I can quit school and stay home so I can help with whatever you need to have done.”

Sarah gave Sammy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’s nice of you to volunteer, but you’re still a little boy. Taking care of Grandma would be a full-time job, not to mention your busy little brother and sister.” She tweaked the end of his nose. “Besides, you need to go to school so you can learn to read and write. You need to get an education so you can get a good-paying job when you grow up—something that will get you away from the canal.”

Deep wrinkles etched his small forehead. “But I like the canal. Just wish I could go fishin’ whenever I wanted to.”

“Maybe your uncle Mike will take you fishing sometime, but you’re never to go near the water when you’re alone. Is that clear?”

He nodded. “That nice man with the red blotch on his face said he’d take me fishin’ some Sunday. Can I go with him, Mama? Can I, please?”

“We go to church on Sundays; you know that.”

“How ‘bout after church? That canaler said some Sunday afternoon, so he must’ve meant after church.”

“We’ll see, Sammy. In the meantime, I want you to go in the kitchen.” Sarah opened the door. “Now, shoo.”