“I expect I will have it at winter’s end.”
“You will need to take good care of yourself to make sure he is healthy. Do you want me to take you to town when you suspect he is coming? Surely you don’t want to have the baby here in the cabin.”
“I might not have a choice.”
Mike shook his head. “The weather will not be like this when you are ready to have him. It will be nearly spring, I suspect. It will be beautiful outside.”
“That’s good to know. I guess I should make some light clothes for the baby and not just heavy knitted sweaters.”
Mike chuckled. “You don’t want it to sweat all the time. It will need fresh air. Do you think you will have a boy or a girl?”
Sarah looked taken aback by the question and her smile widened. “Now how would I know something like that?”
“Didn’t you ever discuss those methods, you know, the things women always did to foretell the sex of a baby?”
Sarah laughed. “I never did, no.”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” Mike pulled out a small round frame with a cloth in it that Rachel had apparently started doing embroidery on. The needle was still sticking out from it. In pretty colors, she had been embroidering the words “Home Sweet Home” with flowers and birds around it. It looked to be about halfway done.
“Do you want to finish this?” Mike asked.
“Do you want me to? I don’t mind.”
“Do you know how to do embroidery?” Mike asked the question without looking at her. His eyes were still on the framed fabric. She noticed his eyes were a little misty and felt sorry for him. She tilted her head to the side.
“I do, Mike, but I won’t touch it if you don’t want me to. I know it must mean a great deal to you.”
Mike handed it to her. He didn’t want to say what he was thinking. His affection for Sarah had grown tremendously since they first met. Though he was too afraid to tell her how he felt, he suspected she must know already. He had always believed that women could sense the emotions of a man before the man even knew what he was feeling. It was his thought that if she finished the piece, he would have something that belonged to both of the women he loved, something both their fingers had touched. That would mean more to him than anything in his entire cabin.
“I do want you to finish it, Sarah. It was meant to be finished, not to sit in this trunk collecting dust like a long lost memory.”
She nodded. “As you wish, Mike. I do not mind at all, I promise. It will give me something more to do. I can walk much better now. I want you to show me how to do some of the other things you have to do. I want to make sure you don’t have to do everything on your own. There will come a time when I won’t be able to help a lot because I will be so big…”
“That’s when you will need to take the best care of yourself,” Mike added, nodding.
She agreed. “Yes, I will probably need to take it easy on myself when that time comes. So for now, while I am able, I’d like to help out. It’s the least I can do for my room and board, and your care and concern.”
“You know you don’t need to pay me for taking care of you. It’s what any decent man would do. But I will show you some of the things you can do until you feel you aren’t able to do them. If you want me to.”
She nodded. “I do. There have to be some things that don’t require the muscles you have and the strength of a man to perform.”
He laughed. “Of course there is. But in the meantime, you sit in here and stay warm while I get some lunch together. Pick any of these, whatever you like. There’s nothing in here that you can’t finish or use. You hear me?”
She smiled at him. “I sure do. Thank you, Mike.”
“You’re welcome.”
He stood up and moved around the trunk to go into the kitchen area. Her back was to him now that he was in the kitchen, but if she looked over her shoulder, she could see him moving about. She picked carefully through the fabrics and other sewing equipment Rachel had. The trunk was filled with bright colors, yellows, oranges, light blues, and greens. Sarah almost felt as though she could get to know the woman just by the fabrics she had left behind. Her taste and her love of color were obvious. There were brightly colored ascots, bonnets, and scarves in one side of the bottom of the trunk, finished pieces that were obviously never worn.
She pulled them out one by one, admiring the needlework and the craftsmanship. She was surprised to find, at the bottom of the trunk, a small wooden box. It looked similar to the box she’d found on top of all the fabrics. The first box contained needles of all sizes, along with small spools of thread. Sarah pulled the second box out and set it on her lap. When she opened it, she was stunned to discover many very small knives, a knife sharpener, and some bits of wood that had been carved to look like animals.
“Rachel was certainly a very talented woman,” she exclaimed before she could stop herself. She heard Mike approaching from behind her and looked up at him. He looked over her shoulder at the wood carving kit and nodded.
“She was a talented person but that carving set is mine. Look,” he leaned over her shoulder and chose a small wooden rabbit. It was near perfect in the craftsmanship. “This is mine. This is one that she did. I had to teach her to use the knives. I was always afraid of her cutting herself.” Mike picked up a smaller carving, that of a pig, and held it in front of him. “She always said pigs were the smartest animal on the planet and that we should get a couple to keep on the ranch. At first, I was interested but then I came to realize she wanted them as pets, not for food.” He stared sadly at the carved pig. “I… I should never have said no. I didn’t just say no, I put my foot down. I will always be sorry for that.”
Sarah took his arm and squeezed it. “You should not be sorry. You didn’t know that it would stick with you for so long. I know you were a good husband to her.”
“You do?” Mike turned the pig over in his hand and examined it more. “How do you figure?”
Sarah shrugged. “I have gotten to know you well in the last few weeks, Mike. I don’t think you ever did anything to intentionally hurt her. In fact, I know you didn’t. And I don’t believe she would have ever hurt you either. I am willing to bet she didn’t complain when you said no to the pigs.”
He grunted. “She never complained about much.”
“That tells you not just how much she loved you, but how much you loved her. She knew you were taking care of her. She knew you are a good man. That’s why she loved you, I’m sure of it.”
Mike handed her the pig. “Do you really believe that?”
She took the little carving from him and replaced it carefully in the box. “Yes, I do. And I don’t know how to carve wood so I’m just going to put this down before I cut myself terribly.”
Mike snorted. “If you know how to do embroidery without sticking your fingers, you can surely handle these carving knives with the large handle to hold on to.”
“Oh, do you think so?” Sarah asked. “Well, maybe I will get you to show me how it’s done someday. But not today. I am feeling a little tired today.”
“You’ve been doing too much,” Mike sounded upset. She tried not to smile in amusement. “You need to rest.”
“I haven’t been doing anything, Mike. Nothing at all. I made some coffee and some eggs this morning. That’s all. I’m just tired. I’m sure lots of pregnant women feel that way. Now, I’m not going to complain about it so…”
“If you are in pain, I want you to complain,” Mike interrupted her, taking her hand and looking her in the eyes. “I will not know to help you if you don’t complain. So speak up and let me know if you need anything. Do you hear me?”
She laughed. He sounded so demanding, so serious. There was snow thigh-deep on the ground outside, but he wanted to make sure she was in no pain. She nodded. “Of course I hear you, Mike. And yes, I will absolutely tell you if something seems wrong. I need you to look out for me and you’re right, if I don’t say anything, nothing will change.”
“That’s exactly right. And you could injure yourself or the baby.”
“Soon, I will be able to feel it moving. I can’t wait until then. I want to make sure it’s still okay, that it is alive and growing in there.”
“I have faith. You should too. All will be well. You’ll see.”
Mike went back into the kitchen, Buddy on his heels. Sarah watched him before turning her eyes back to the small carving kit. She fingered several of the other small pieces wondering if Mike had done the rest of them. He had a brooding look on his face and she didn’t want to ask him. She hoped that she hadn’t intruded, that he still wanted her to stay with him.
She stayed quiet, softly closing the wood carving kit and placing it gently back in the trunk, using one hand to hold herself up, and she leaned over it while still sitting on the couch with her legs stretched out over it.
“Are you feeling very hungry, Sarah?” Mike asked, without turning toward her.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I am a bit hungry, yes.”
“I’ll make a little extra. I have some smoked meat I saved I think you’ll like. It’s been seasoned with some extra spices. It might be a little hot for your taste.”
“I will try it anyway. I’m not opposed to trying something new.”
“Good to hear.”
She could hear meat sizzling in the pan. Mike had pulled back the curtain on the window and she looked out at the land, completely white and as quiet as could be. She remembered seeing the deer at the stream when she first arrived on this mountain and how the sun had been shining. She had thought she was going to die. However, Mike was suddenly there. He rescued her. He carried her to safety and now she and her baby had a chance to live well.
If only she knew whether or not Mike really wanted her there. He had asked her many times if she wanted to go back, but after the storm hit, there was no real need to ask. She couldn’t go anywhere. He kept the cabin warm and their stomachs fed. She could ask no more from her rescuer, her knight in shining armor. Could she tell him that her feelings for him had grown so deep, she didn’t think she would ever want to leave his side? He loved Rachel. He would always love Rachel. However, she was gone.
Could she ever replace the woman he loved so much and make him happy?
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE WEATHER WARMS UP
THE WEATHER WARMS UP
Another month crept by and, as Mike had predicted, the snow began to melt. For several weeks, the snow had continued to fall, blanketing the ground with fresh flakes every few days. On the third week, it stopped and the sun came out, beginning the melting process.
Regardless of the strong rays of the sun, the air was still frigid and cold. Mike wouldn’t let her go outside any more than was necessary, because he only had one coat to provide her warmth that Rachel had worn, and it was not the warmest it could have been. He gave her a pair of his gloves, but they were too big for her small hands.
When it wasn’t too cold, she sat on the porch wrapped in a large blanket, holding a cup of coffee, Buddy pushed up against her, when he wasn’t running around after Mike. She enjoyed the silence more than she had ever imagined she would. She could hear Mike coming from very far away, his boots crunching on the hard snow, echoing through the small valley.
She felt herself getting somewhat anxious to move around and do things, but knew she had to stay calm. It would do her and her baby no good to overexert herself.
She’d begun to feel fluttering in her belly, a feeling she knew from her friends to be the beginning of her baby growing bigger. She took it to mean the child was all right and had survived the trauma she’d been through.
That particular morning, she had tired of knitting and embroidering. There was little else she could do, so she sat on the porch watching for Mike to come back from whatever it was he was doing. He often left without notifying her of his whereabouts and, though she couldn’t help but worry while he was gone, she never questioned him about it. It was his way and she had to accept that.
She remembered the book she had found when she first arrived, the book Rachel had written. She had brought it out on the porch with her that morning and it sat on her lap, unopened as of yet. She had never read a single word of it.
Now that she knew Mike better, she thought it would be all right if she read it because he had been so open with her about Rachel. She didn’t think she would find anything shocking in the book. However, she still hesitated, not truly wanting to invade the woman’s privacy. Now that she was not alive, would it be an invasion of privacy? Why would Rachel write anything down if she never intended it to be read by anyone?
Sarah fought with herself for nearly an hour before she decided that Rachel probably wouldn’t mind. In fact, she might welcome the chance to share her thoughts with the next woman in her husband’s life.
Sarah had made a pair of mittens with some of the yarn in Rachel’s trunk. Her hands were still shaking when she took hold of the cover and opened the book to the first page.
Rachel’s handwriting struck Sarah as it had the first time. Neat and slanted to the right, she wrote many words across the front of the paper and then wrote on the back of it as well, always dating the top of the page even if she wasn’t starting a new day.
The first entry had to do with the book itself. It had been a handmade Christmas gift from her father, a man who worked in making paper. He had taken scraps and made the paper book for her, even finding a charcoal pencil for her to use. She thanked her father in her first entry and then went on to more topics, including meeting Mike in town.
The way she described Mike was not the man Sarah saw in front of her. She described him as being slender with broad shoulders and a wide chest, but clean shaven with wavy brown hair and brown eyes the color of coffee with just a bit of milk in it. She was immediately taken in by his charm, his wit, and his humor.
Sarah knew what had changed Mike. She wished he had never had to experience the kind of pain that could change a man into being someone who only wanted to be alone, away from the world, hidden from society and civilization. She had a feeling that if he had not rescued her and had found Buddy, he would be content to be by himself for the rest of his life, him and his dog.
She hoped she brought something to his life, now that he had lost someone he loved so dearly.
She turned the page, continuing to read Rachel’s notes on how her life was going. The words were legible but some were spelled wrong and several sentences had words that were completely dropped from them, making them a little confusing until Sarah’s brain figured out what the woman was trying to say.
Most of the prose was sweet and tender, especially when she started to talk about how Mike was courting her like a real gentleman. Her parents both approved of Mike, and she was happy about that. Her father even told her that he was proud she had attracted such a good, hard-working man, a man with his own house he had built with his own hands. Rachel was proud of him, too, and talked about having children with him. She said he would be a wonderful father.
Sarah closed the book when she got to that part, holding her place with one of her fingers. She looked out over the land and rested one hand on her protruding stomach, which was not very large yet, but her pregnancy was showing.
Rachel’s words rested on Sarah’s heart gently and made her think about Mike as a father to her own child. It certainly could not be raised around a father figure like Jason. She had concluded that long ago. Any man that could attempt to murder his wife and unborn child was a monster and didn’t deserve to have either one in his life.
Mike would make a much better father. His behavior toward the dog was proof enough that he was a kindhearted man. That on top of saving her life – she shook her head.
What would she do about Jason? Eventually, she would want to return to Wickenburg. She already missed Alice and Adam, and her home. She missed going to the parlor and the small shops and to the street vendors. Every morning she had woken up to he
ar the sound of the light man whistling as he made his way up and down the street, extinguishing the gas lamps that had been lit all night long up and down the main road.
Her heart was torn. She didn’t know whether she wanted to stay on the mountain and be isolated with Mike, or return to Wickenburg. If she returned, she would most likely beg him to come with her. That was something he would probably turn down and she would be separated from him.
The thought made her sad.
She heard the crunching of his boots as he approached. He was talking to Buddy, calling out to him as he made his way up the mountainside toward her. When he came into sight, the first thing she noticed was the wide smile on his face. He had a sack slung over his shoulder and he was watching Buddy run around and around him in wide circles.
“What are you doin’, boy?” Mike was asking. “What are you doing? You want this sack, don’t you, boy? You want this sack? You can’t have it. No, you can’t.” He laughed, looked up at her on the porch and lifted one hand to wave. “Hey, there!” he called out.
“Hey, there, Mike,” she responded with a smile.
“How are you feeling this afternoon? You don’t think it’s too cold to be out here?”
“No, I don’t think it’s too cold,” Sarah tried not to laugh. He asked her that every day, as if she was a fragile plant that would wilt in too much sun or too much cold.
“I have to check on you, you know,” Mike said, stepping up on the porch. “You are a very stubborn woman, you know. I’m shocked that you are not over there chopping wood.”
Sarah pretended like she was getting up from the porch swing. “Oh, is there wood chopping to be done? Let me…”
“Don’t you dare, my girl,” Mike laughed, putting one hand out to stop her progression. She sat back down, grinning at him so wide all of her teeth were showing. “Don’t you dare. You know I’m not gonna let that happen.”
She giggled. “I know. Why do you think I offered?”
An Uncivilized Romance Page 14
