The Memory of Love

by Tammy Shuttlesworth

  Sarah’s face warmed. “Oh! You think that I thought this is the trading post. Well, I did not see a sign to indicate that building. I thought someone here would point me in the right direction.”

  His smile aimed right for Sarah’s lonely heart. “So you are looking for what we laughingly call the ‘post with the most’?”

  Sarah didn’t want to stammer, so she simply nodded.

  “I will escort you there,” he offered. “I have been in Washington County awhile. I have not lost a young woman yet who has been directly in my care.”

  “What about your militia business?” Sarah managed.

  “You would be doing me a favor,” he assured her. “I am tired of studying plans that make no sense. Not to mention trying to decipher correspondence that seems written in a foreign language.”

  Relief flowed through Sarah. It wasn’t her. He wanted a break from his demanding workload.

  “I will take her, boss. You can get started on your reply to Major Whelp,” Rufe said, holding out the misplaced message.

  “No. Since the colonel left me in command, I feel it is only proper that I escort the lady.”

  Sarah wasn’t sure about being alone with this soldier; his presence seemed to swamp her soul. Her good intentions wavered. It would be nice to have someone as brawny as he at her side. Perhaps it would curtail the rude comments some made when they saw her alone.

  He settled a wide-brimmed hat on his head and motioned for her to precede him. Sarah swept in front of him, reminding herself that at the very least she must thank him for his help.

  Outside the building, Jeremiah drew her to a halt.

  “Before we go any farther, I feel duty bound to introduce myself. County Lieutenant Jeremiah Stewart at your service. My duties include providing protection to pioneers who search for freedom and land in this area, along with a few other choice things that I am not at liberty to discuss.”

  “That is quite impressive, sir. I am Sarah Troy … er, Lyons.”

  “Troyer-Lyons,” he repeated. “Is that one or two words?”

  “One.” Oh dear! That wasn’t the truth. She had not used her maiden name of Troyer in years. Why did it slip so naturally to her lips now?

  “Mighty pleased to meet you. It is miss, correct?”

  “Miss is only appropriate for those who have not wed,” Sarah answered. “That is not true of me.”

  Her reply curtailed any hope Jeremiah might have about getting to know her better. Which was a good thing, he reminded himself. With the colonel off on a family matter and Major Whelp out in the field, he was in charge. He didn’t have time for lollygagging around with women as Rufe liked to do.

  “So you are married, then.” Jeremiah motioned for Sarah to step along. “Just my luck. I meet a beautiful woman, and she is unavailable.”

  “Oh, but I am not …” Sarah fell silent as a blush crossed her cheeks.

  “Available or married?” Jeremiah scolded himself the moment the words were out. He must forget the way his heart leaped when he looked into Sarah’s eyes. Only one woman had made him feel so … alive.

  “Married,” Sarah replied. “Not anymore.” A hint of memory slowed her words.

  “I am sorry,” Jeremiah responded. “I did not mean to bring up something that appears to pain you greatly.”

  Sarah fussed with her dress sleeves, giving Jeremiah a chance to study her. Hair the shade of ripe summer grain dangled down her back in some sort of fancy braid. High cheekbones accented exquisite brown eyes that Jeremiah found it easy to lose himself in.

  Forget it, Stewart. No one will ever take Jenny’s place.

  Sarah raised her chin, insecurity glittering in her eyes. “Thank you for … your concern. Losing my husband is something I am still getting used to. I do have a son, though, and that is why I am here. To search for a way to provide for him.”

  “I admire you for that.” Jeremiah watched her eyebrows rise at his compliment.

  Sarah cleared her throat. “I made a mistake earlier,” she said. “Troyer was a slip of the tongue. It was my name before I wed.” Her gaze moved to the pasture, where several horses grazed.

  Jeremiah reminded himself that he didn’t have time for this sort of folly. As a matter of fact, he should have insisted Rufe escort her to the store. He had too many things to do and not enough time to do them, before the colonel returned.

  “Well, Mrs. Lyons, let me officially welcome you to our humble village. I hope you find what you are looking for. It is not often we get a lady like you here.”

  “Mr. Stewart,” Sarah began with perfect diction, “I am here because the Captain and Mrs. Hall talked me into coming along. With my son of course.”

  “Captain and … why that means … How old is your son?”

  “A few months beyond four, but Sammy was well behaved on the trip. I am rather pleased for Bessie, I mean Mrs. Hall…. Being with child, well, she needs all the rest she can get.”

  “Mrs. Hall is with child?” Jeremiah gasped. The next time he saw Bessie, he would wring her neck. After she presented him with a niece or nephew of course.

  Sarah wrinkled her forehead. “Do you know her?”

  “Yes. Quite well.”

  “Captain said they had family in the area.”

  “They do,” he affirmed, mentally making plans to visit his sister. He’d been out yesterday when they arrived. Upon his return, Rufe had thrust a mess of paperwork at him, insisting that Jeremiah take care of it before he did anything else. By the time he finished, it was well into the night.

  “I was only recently promoted to the rank of county lieutenant,” Jeremiah said as they began their walk to the post. “I hope that is not disappointing to you.”

  “No. Why should it be?”

  The confusion on Sarah’s face told him she had no idea why he’d brought that up. Jeremiah didn’t know either. He was fortunate she was so proper, for he was making eight kinds of a fool of himself. He would have to keep his distance, despite the attraction he felt for Sarah.

  He motioned toward a tumbledown building. “Here is where you made your mistake. You should have gone past Colonel Williamson’s home before you stopped.”

  “Someone should have erected a sign, but thank you.” There was a small admonition in her voice, but Sarah’s gaze lingered on Jeremiah’s.

  A group of soldiers exited the post and spilled out onto the path. Some had learned this morning that passes to see their families had been denied. They glared at Jeremiah and Sarah.

  He realized that the men resented him. So be it, he told himself. I might not like my current assignment, but if they don’t get their training straight, this whole territory will disintegrate.

  “I will take care of erecting a sign immediately,” Jeremiah promised, moving so as to shield Sarah from the glaring looks tossed her way.

  “Watch your step.” Jeremiah placed a hand on her elbow and guided her around some horses. “Things are rather difficult around here. I am not sure anyone will be able to hire you. What was it you hoped to do again?”

  “Preferably something that allows me time with my son without causing trouble for my employer—if any such thing exists, that is.”

  Sarah didn’t sound very hopeful. Jeremiah was sorry that he’d squelched her expectations.

  “Allow me.” He opened the door and waited for her to go ahead. “I did not mean to sound skeptical. Perhaps you will find someone who will be happy to give you work.”

  “You do not have to apologize. I am used to men who think women are unable to fend for themselves. Let me tell you something, Mr. Stewart. I have been the sole provider for my son for almost two years, and I will continue to do so. If that causes a problem, perhaps I should go back to … where I came from and not contaminate this piece of land.”

  Jeremiah didn’t blame Sarah for sounding aggravated; he’d spoken before he’d thought. That was something he was going to have to work on. Suddenly he wanted more than ever to succeed, especially around Sa
rah Lyons.

  Chapter 4

  Sarah trudged back to the cabin. While she watched Captain and Bessie unload the wagon, she gave her new home an impassive glance. The walls gave only a hint of solidity, the door hung crazily on its frame, and the chimney appeared as if it were tired of seeing the same sights every day. But with some fresh chinking, the cabin would keep the elements out, which was more than could be said of the house she’d left a few weeks ago.

  Sarah watched as Bessie gave directions and Captain did his best to follow them. That is what a family is supposed to be like, she thought, ignoring the brutal twisting of her heart.

  Sammy spied Sarah and threw himself against her. “Mama! You back.”

  Sarah hugged Sammy, knowing that he grew anxious when she was not with him all the time. “Yes, dear. I hope you were good for Miss Bessie while I was out.”

  Captain wiped a fine line of sweat from his forehead and joined Sarah and Sammy near the wagon. “Samuel is one fine boy. He did quite well carrying things into the house. He also picked out his room and said his mama would help him with it later.”

  “Thank you for watching him,” Sarah said. “I do not know what I would do without you two.”

  Bessie joined her husband, leaning against a barrel of flour still tied to the wagon.

  “Are you feeling better?” Sarah asked. When Sarah left earlier, Bessie was suffering from queasiness.

  “I am now,” Bessie answered. “I thought women only got ill in the beginning of their childbearing time.”

  “I guess we are all different,” Sarah said.

  “That we are,” Captain affirmed. He drew Bessie against him and planted a noisy smack on his wife’s cheek. “I am so glad this one is mine.”

  Bessie placed her hands on her hips and tossed him a mock frown. “Why do you say that, Daniel Hall?”

  “Because you are good for a person’s spirit.” Captain sneaked another kiss.

  Though Sarah saw them like this often, she marveled that two such opposites were man and wife. Daniel, known to most as Captain, was more apple-shaped than anything. The silver sifted through the brown at his temples made him appear twice Bessie’s age. Bessie was generally outspoken and devoted her days to taking care of her husband. Sarah frowned. She and Levi had enjoyed the same sort of camaraderie displayed by the Halls until—

  “Did you find the post, dear?” Bessie’s query disconnected the chain of thoughts that might have sent Sarah into tears.

  Sarah held Sammy close. “I ended up going to the Williamsons’. A very nice militiaman showed me the correct place to go though.”

  “A very nice militiaman? What did he look like?” The peskiness in Bessie’s tone could only mean trouble.

  “You know I do not pay attention to those things.” Sarah waved off the question, yet the memory of Jeremiah’s misty eyes hovered in her mind.

  “You ought to,” Bessie said frankly. “A woman should not be alone these days, what with the war and all. Besides, our Lord made woman so man would have a companion. Right, Captain?”

  He nodded, about all a man could do when Bessie got started.

  “I appreciate your concern,” Sarah said, “but I have been alone for so long, it seems like it has never been any other way.”

  Not long enough to forget though, Sarah’s heart reminded her.

  “You are never alone,” Bessie contributed. “Whether you believe it or not, the Lord steps right along with you everywhere you go.”

  “You know, I have not seen much evidence that God is anywhere near me lately,” Sarah replied. “Now, please, can we leave it at that?”

  “Yes, of course. Did you find work?”

  Sarah shook her head. If she spoke, she might regret what she said.

  “I was so sure you would,” Bessie said. “I guess the war changed more than just the men who fight it.”

  Sarah gave an inward groan. She understood why Bessie chattered on about some things, but the war? Sarah knew it had something to do with the colonists wanting their freedom from England. At sixteen, she joined a group that fled Pennsylvania, in 1772, to settle in eastern Ohio. Nine years had passed since that time.

  Does Callie still live in that Christian settlement? Fear stirred in Sarah’s stomach. She’d promised Levi that she would take Sammy to find their relatives. What if she finally got there and they weren’t there?

  No! I have to believe I will find them. This move is a step toward that end.

  “You know we counted on you staying with us,” Bessie interjected. “We have four rooms. Besides, I think Captain likes your singing voice more than mine.”

  Sarah silently agreed. Bessie’s best effort sounded like a wounded screech owl falling out of a tree. “I just do not want us to be a burden.”

  “We enjoy having you and Samuel with us,” Captain inserted.

  “We would not have asked if we did not,” Bessie agreed. “Perhaps we will help you past that sorrow that haunts your eyes. We will pray for you. That will help.”

  Bessie grabbed a handful of tablecloths and moved toward the house. Captain followed behind.

  Sarah gazed around at the open trunks and quilt-wrapped dishes representing Captain and Bessie’s marriage.

  I don’t envy Bessie because she has a husband and a child on the way, Sarah admonished herself. I don’t.

  “You could at least have written and told me I was going to be an uncle,” Jeremiah said as he released Bessie from an almost rib-shattering hug. He leaned down and offered to shake hands with the small boy who ducked behind Bessie’s skirts. The child jerked back, sending a stack of kettles clanging to the floor.

  Bessie patted Samuel’s head then squatted to pick up the items. “Captain believed the Lord called us to travel when we did. If you had known about it, you would have insisted we wait until after the baby’s birth.”

  “You know me too well, little sister. Now, tell me how things are going in your life.”

  “I will admit that times are rough, but seeing you makes our trip worthwhile, Jer. Though Captain was certain we would be fine, I feared we would not make it here safely.”

  “Well, you did, so let us not think about what could have happened.” Jeremiah motioned toward Bessie’s growing midsection. “You look good. Marriage to Captain agrees with you?”

  “It does.” Bessie clasped Jeremiah’s arm. “I need to thank you for the support you gave me when—”

  Jeremiah pressed a finger over her lips for a moment. “It was not me who pulled you through, it was the Lord. You know that.”

  “True,” Bessie confirmed. “Now it is your turn, Jer. If you will allow Him, God will send the right woman to heal your heart.”

  Jeremiah cleared his throat. “Let us get one thing straight, Bessie Josephina. The condition of my heart is not available for discussion.”

  “I will drop it. For now,” Bessie added with an impish tone. “By the way, Captain checked for you when we got in. No one seemed to know where you were.”

  “Out rounding up more men for the colonel’s militia. I am glad you made it here safely. Makes my day a whole lot lighter.”

  “Those we care about generally do that,” Bessie responded. “Where is your house, by the way? Is it close enough for me to walk to?”

  Jeremiah told her he lived two valleys and a creek away. The first owners had tired of worrying about whether or not the Indians would choose them as their next victims.

  “It is not a home, though, if you know what I mean,” he finished.

  “They never are unless there is love in it,” Bessie advised. “How is Pa? You heard from him lately?”

  “Got a letter last week, only he did not write it,” Jeremiah replied. “A woman named Hazel signed it. She said they got hitched a few months ago, and we were—”

  “Pa got tied again?” Bessie interrupted. “But he said he would never marry again.”

  Jeremiah had nothing to say. Other than losing Jenny, their mother’s death was the most horrify
ing experience of his life.

  Jeremiah decided to steer the conversation to a safer area. “Who is this little fellow who keeps hiding behind your skirt?”

  Bessie moved aside and smiled down at Samuel. “This is my brother, Jeremiah. Can you say hello to him, Samuel?”

  Samuel laid his head against her leg and refused to speak.

  “Be patient with him, Jer,” Bessie explained. “Strangers make him nervous.”

  “But who is he? You did not just pick up a small boy and cart him off.”

  “I would love to have a house full of children like Samuel. He belongs to Sarah, the woman we brought with us.” Bessie gazed around the trading post. “Now where did she get off to? I wanted you to meet her.”

  Jeremiah raised his eyebrows. “Sarah?”

  “Yes, Sarah Lyons. It is a long story, Jer. She lost her husband almost two years ago. She was living with some friends of ours. Captain and I could not see leaving her on her own any longer. We are determined to help her put it all behind her, but I do not know. Sometimes Sarah seems stuck with memories that I fear she may not ever be free of.”

  “Indians?”

  Bessie nodded. “Sarah will not yet talk about it.”

  “I understand.”

  “I knew you would, big brother. You lost the apple of your eye.

  Speaking of Jenny, you cannot let what happened to her ruin the rest of your life. After all, I put Martin behind me.”

  “Jenny did not destroy me,” Jeremiah insisted. “Yours is a different story. Besides, it seems to me you have enough to worry about with that little one on the way, that you should not be fussing over me. Have you forgotten I am older than you and that I can take care of myself?”

  Bessie wagged a finger in the air. “If that is true, when did you last sit down to a home-cooked meal?”

  “I do not get those often,” Jeremiah admitted. He wouldn’t have traded his memories of growing up with Bessie for anything, but sometimes Jeremiah wondered why the Lord put them in the same family. Bessie would have been better off with seven sisters so they could cackle over new quilt patterns.