Too Long a Stranger (Women of the West) (9 page)

Silence hung between them for several minutes. Sarah stood before the man with slumped shoulders, the lines of worry creasing her forehead.

Sarah looked up suddenly, catching his own expression of worry and concern. She gave him an unexpected smile, straightened her shoulders, and gave her sweeping skirts a little shake as though in doing so she could shake some of her heavy responsibilities from her slender shoulders.

"I must hurry," she said. "I am on my way to pick up my daughter. We have precious little time together as it is. I don't want to miss one moment of it."

The man nodded. "My, she's growing," he commented. "She was in with Mrs. Galvan yesterday. Chatters along with the best of them."

Sarah beamed. "Yes. Yes—my little girl is growing up. Too fast, it seems. Each week—each day, it seems she learns something new. Sometimes she surprises even me."

"The Galvans certainly enjoy having her."

Sarah's eyes shadowed slightly. "I don't know what I ever would have done without Mrs. Galvan," she said honestly. But in the back of her heart was the pain that she was slowly losing her importance in the eyes of her little girl. She had to change that. Had to spend more time with Rebecca. Had to do more things—find time for fun—be together. It wasn't right that a little girl should have her cookie baking, her story time, her exploration with someone other than her mother. It just wasn't right. The only answer seemed to be to leave earlier in the morning so she could be back earlier in the afternoon.

But that too posed a dilemma. How could she ask Mrs. Galvan to get up even earlier to come to her house to stay with the sleeping child? That wasn't fair. Sarah had yet to solve her problem. But she knew that the first and foremost matter was to get that loan at the bank paid off so she wouldn't be in the banker's clutches.

"I—I must hurry," she said to the man before her. Her thoughts had been miles away. She flushed slightly.

"You—you will remember," the man prompted gently. "If ever you—need a little help—?"

Sarah nodded. She prayed that day might never come. Still—if it did, she prayed also that her pride would let her accept the offer. It would be much better to take help from a brother in their little church family and provide for her little girl than to refuse help and have no means to care for Rebecca.

"I'll remember," she said solemnly and managed a grateful smile, and she turned and hurried from the store. She could hardly wait to see Rebecca. It was the moment she lived for each day.

***

"Rebecca has asked for a kitten," Mrs. Galvan informed Sarah. "Do you mind?"

Sarah did not know how to respond. A kitten would also need care.

"Well, I—" she began. She hated to refuse her little girl.

"We'll just bring it back here with her during the day—but she can take it home with her in the evening," explained Mrs. Galvan. "I thought it might give her something to—to sort of tie her two homes together. There are three of the little rascals there. The one she holds is a little female—the two tearing my rug apart are males. She can have whichever one you think best."

Sarah looked up then, her restless hands suddenly motionless. The shifting back and forth from home to home must be hard on her little daughter. Rebecca always seemed so happy. So eager to be with the Gal-vans. Sarah had not stopped to think that the child might have some deep emotional needs of her own.

"Of course," she answered Mrs. Galvan. "A kitten would be good for her. She loves animals so."

Michael had loved animals. Sarah had often teased that she was sure he would have filled the barn—and the house—had she permitted it. In fact, Michael was about to choose himself a dog. Sarah wasn't too fond of dogs—at least not in her house. But Michael had assured her that the dog would sleep in the barn with the horses and go with him each day to haul freight.

"If—if you are going to allow Rebecca a kitten, then—I thought you might like to be the one to—to tell her about it," went on Mrs. Galvan.

"But it's your—"

"I've just given it to you," said the woman without even looking Sarah's way.

How wise—and caring she is,
thought Sarah.
She knows
—
she knows how I ache because
—
because Rebecca is slowly .. .
But Sarah did not allow herself to finish the thought. She would accept Mrs. Galvan's offer. She would take advantage of the opportunity to give Rebecca something special. She had so little chances for such expression of her love.

Sarah let her eyes rest on her little girl who sat on the floor cuddling the kitten in her arms. The child turned eyes toward her mother as though she knew she was the subject of interest. "Kitty love me," she said with confidence.

"Do you want a kitty?" asked Sarah, and she left her chair at the kitchen table and crossed the room to the little girl.

The two other kittens rolled beneath a nearby chair, clawing at imaginary somethings in the air around them.

Rebecca looked up, her large brown eyes wide as they met her mother's. Then she pressed the kitten she held against her soft baby cheek.

Sarah fought to keep the tears from falling. How like Michael's eyes were those of her little girl.

"Next week is your birthday. You'll be two years old," Sarah told her daughter. "How would you like a kitten for your birthday?"

Rebecca looked puzzled for one moment, but then her eyes lit up.

"For me?"

"Yes. For your very own."

Rebecca giggled and held the kitten out where she could get a better look at it. Then she giggled again and pulled it back to press it against her little chest.

"Aunt Min says—" began Sarah, then caught herself and started again. "You may pick whichever kitten you like the best, and we will take it home to our house. It will be yours."

Rebecca looked around her. She studied the two playing kittens, held the one in her arms out and surveyed it carefully and then looked at the other two again.

When she turned back to her mother she seemed confident of her decision. "This one," she said, holding up the kitten in her hands. "This one."

Sarah reached out her hand to stroke the softness of the kitten. She was a cute little thing.

"What shall we call her?' she asked gently.

Rebecca appeared to be thinking. "Unca Boy," she said, her eyes sparkling.

"Boyd?"

Rebecca nodded emphatically.

"But Boyd is a man's name—this little kitten is a girl."

"Unca Boy," insisted Rebecca.

Sarah shrugged and laughed gently. "Uncle Boyd it is, then. I wonder how he'll feel having a cat named after him."

Mrs. Galvan joined the laughter from the stove where she was removing loaves of bread from a hot oven.

"It is so good to hear you laugh, Sarah," Mrs. Galvan said approvingly. "Here—I baked an extra loaf for you and Rebecca to have with your supper."

***

All through the hot summer and into the fall, Sarah fought to keep her freight line going. The competition became almost unbearable. Sarah would have given up in defeat many times had it not been for little Rebecca. But because of her love for the little girl, her commitment to provide for her, she struggled on.

"I'll never make it," she said as she counted out her monthly loan from her meager earnings. "I'll never make it. I have barely enough. What will we ever live on?" She looked at the few bills and coins spread out on her bed.

Sarah knew she had to swallow her pride and accept the credit offered her by Alex Murray.

The next month Sarah did not even have enough to make the loan payment. Slowly, ever so slowly, she lost additional customers to the competition.

"I'm sorry," the man at the livery stable had said, his eyes refusing to meet hers. "But I have a family to feed too. I have to take the lowest price. I have to."

Sarah had turned and left. He was right of course. She could not blame him. But there was no way she could lower her prices and survive. She didn't know how the man who billed himself as "Fast Freight Lines" could undercut her so far and continue to operate.

Sarah faced another long, difficult winter. She was praying harder than she had ever done in all her life. She couldn't go on, month after month, living on help from Alex Murray. There would come a day when those bills, too, would need to be met. Sarah sat down and did some serious calculating. She wrote down the amount still owed the bank. The debt was slowly receding, thank God for that. Then she added the amount now owed to Alex Murray. She made another column of her reasonable assets—like the team, the wagon, her barn and hay shed. Her eyes wandered about the room and she mentally calculated some of her household items. If she continued as she was, she felt she might hold out for an additional three months. Three months—no more. She would not allow herself to get into debt further than she would be able to pay off.

She stretched, lifted a thin, calloused hand to rub her aching neck. Three months. Just three more months and she and little Rebecca would be virtually penniless. What would she do then? It didn't matter about her. Sarah was past caring about herself. But what of Rebecca? What of Michael's little girl?

***

The first good news came through Alex Murray. "Hear your competition had him a little trouble this morning."

Sarah's face registered her surprise.

"Trouble? How?"

"Seems his one horse went lame. Not surprising. He's been asking an awful lot of them over the past months. Slight horses like that were built for speed— not endurance."

Sarah thought of her own team. She had grown fond of Gyp and Ginger since she started working with them. She would hate to lose one of them. They had become more than just horses. They were like friends.

"I hadn't heard," said Sarah softly. She truly felt bad about the horse.

"He missed his freight haul yesterday. Some of his customers weren't too happy, I hear."

Alex was smiling. Sarah knew that he expected her to smile also, but for some reason the smile would not come. Should she gloat over the troubles of another? Did her Christian beliefs and behavior mean less to her than her livelihood?

"He's borrowed a horse from somewhere to make today's trip, so I guess he plans to keep on."

Sarah nodded, struggling with disappointment but relieved the lame horse would get a reprieve.

But a week later, when the winter snows made the rutted roads even more difficult to travel, Fast Freight Lines had another mishap. This time it was the wagon. It was simply built too light to withstand the constant jarring and straining of the rugged roads. It seemed that there was no wagon to borrow, and Sarah found herself hauling the man's load while he tried to get his wagon repaired and rolling again. This time Sarah felt little sympathy. There was no animal suffering.

When Fast Freight Lines returned to the road again, Sarah retained some of his customers. It was a welcome relief that when the monthly bank note was due, Sarah did not have to borrow further from Mr. Murray, though she was still unable to pay back any she owed the man.

At least I'm not going further into debt,
she said to herself, and Sarah bowed her head for a quick prayer of thanks.

For three additional weeks the struggle went on. The weather did not improve, the road became even harder to travel, and week by week Sarah gradually gained back more customers from the past. At the end of the three weeks, there was no sign of Fast Freight Lines. Without giving his remaining customers notice, he simply ceased to appear. With red faces the men who had still been supporting the competition asked Sarah if she would haul for them again.

She had won. She had weathered the storm—and come out on top.

Sarah had never felt so relieved in her entire life. Nor so grateful. God—God and her friends—had seen her through. She would be able to provide for little Rebecca, after all.

***

"I've been thinking," Sarah said slowly. "I really would like more time with Rebecca. I need more time with her—but—but—I hardly know how to—to—" She stopped, then went on. "I mean—with the freight increasing more and more—it takes me longer with the loading and unloading. And she needs to go to bed early and I—well, that's when I need to do my household chores. It seems—well, it just seems that I scarcely see Rebecca anymore."

Mrs. Galvan nodded slowly in agreement. "I've wondered too—not that I don't love every minute with Rebecca," she added quickly.

She eased herself into a kitchen chair across from Sarah, drying her hands on her checkered apron. "What can we do?"

"I was thinking about leaving earlier in the morning. Now that spring is on the way, it is light earlier— and then I could get home sooner in the afternoon."

Mrs. Galvan nodded, though they were already getting up long before the sun made its appearance.

"I—I can do that," she said. "If you are sure that you—" Worry creased her features and she picked up her sentence again. "But you—"

"Oh, I couldn't—wouldn't ask you to get up any earlier than you do," quickly cut in Sarah.

Mrs. Galvan's face showed her surprise. "We can't leave her alone," she said simply.