Sarah's Smile (The Daughters of Riverton Book 1)

by Dawn Kinzer

  ***

  With her hand still lingering on Peter’s arm, Rebecca had given what she hoped was an alluring smile, but his eyes had dashed away. Her jaw clenched. Peter was staring at Sarah. Rebecca couldn’t let that woman stand in her way again.

  “Sarah and Mr. Reed seem to enjoy each other’s company.” Rebecca attempted her sweetest voice. “The Memorial Day picnic and now this dance. They must be spending quite a bit of time together.”

  Peter didn’t respond.

  Whether William was courting Sarah or not, Rebecca needed to make sure Peter believed it possible. “After all the heartache she’s experienced, how nice for Sarah to have a man of such standing interested in her.”

  “He’s a manager of a store, Rebecca, which is a fine and respectable job, but that doesn’t put him any higher than anyone else.”

  “I suppose. But I’ve heard he comes from a very wealthy family, and he’s only here temporarily to learn what he can from Mr. Carter. Regardless of how well he does here, he stands to inherit a fortune. Wouldn’t it be wonderful for Sarah to have the opportunity to have the kind of lifestyle that would provide her with anything she’d ever want or need?”

  Peter turned to Rebecca and removed her hand from his arm. “Sarah’s not like that. Fancy things aren’t important to her.”

  “Don’t be so sure. She’s never been given the chance to have them. I would think it difficult to turn that kind of life down after working so hard to support herself, not to mention waiting hand and foot on her grandmother. That woman must be dreadful to live with.”

  “Sarah has a servant’s heart. She cares about people.”

  “Oh, I agree. But a woman also likes to be taken care of. She needs someone’s shoulder to lean on, and if that man is also handsome and charming, it’s even better. As her friend, don’t you think it would be a blessing for her to have such a man as Mr. Reed?”

  “It’s up to her to make that decision.” Peter looked into Rebecca’s eyes. “You seem to think Mr. Reed is quite a catch. I would think you’d set your own sights on him.”

  “I—I think it’s obvious that he’s already quite taken with Sarah.” Rebecca kept her gaze locked on his. “And I’m not the kind of woman to come between two people meant for each other.”

  True, William Reed had much to offer, but as soon as she’d heard Peter was returning to Riverton—and not alone, but with a daughter—Rebecca knew God had finally answered her prayers for a family of her own. She’d loved Peter since she was a girl, and now she could have both him and a child.

  “That’s good to know.” He turned away and waved at his sister. “Excuse me, please. I see Ellie and Thomas. Have a pleasant evening, Rebecca.” He strode across the room toward the couple.

  Rebecca took a deep breath. She may have not captured his attention for the night, but hopefully the seeds she’d planted would take root.

  ***

  Peter tried to greet as many people as he could, spending a few minutes with each one whether they were familiar or new faces to him. He wanted to show sincerity in getting to know more about them and their families, not just out of curiosity, but because he cared.

  As he worked his way around the room, he instinctively knew Sarah’s whereabouts, and he noticed she didn’t stay at William’s side. She accepted invitations to dance with anyone who asked, and her escort for the evening also spent time spinning women of all ages around the floor. Things weren’t always as they seemed. Maybe Rebecca was wrong about Sarah spending time with the man.

  The music ended. Peter turned around and almost collided with Sarah. “I’m sorry. Please excuse me.” He inwardly groaned. A clumsy newborn calf would have been better on its feet.

  “No harm done. I should have been more careful.” She offered a courteous smile to her partner. “Thank you for the dance, Jack.” She released the boy who looked no older than fifteen and who couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  The band started playing another waltz. If he didn’t ask now, he’d lose his chance. “Would you dance with me, Sarah?”

  Her eyes brightened. “Of course.” She slipped her hands into his.

  Peter led her across the floor with one hand pressed against the small of her back, feeling the warmth radiating from her body, resisting the urge to draw her closer to him. “That boy looked quite smitten with you.”

  “Jack?” Her light laughter sent thrills through Peter. “Yes, well, I think he does have some misplaced feelings. But he’s a handsome lad, and the girls in the Young People’s Society are quite enthralled with him. I have no doubt his affections will soon be swayed by someone closer to his own age.”

  “I’ll get a chance to see for myself at the picnic we planned for next Sunday.” He twirled her around as they glided to the music, grateful to have that time with her to look forward to, even if he had to share it with rambunctious students.

  “Very interesting.”

  “The picnic?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “You’re not stepping all over my toes like you did when we were younger.”

  “Dance lessons.” Lily had insisted because she didn’t want to be embarrassed by his lack of skill in front of her friends. For the first time, he didn’t resent her pushing him into it.

  “You had a good teacher, and for that, I’m thankful. So are my feet.”

  This felt like home, holding her in his arms—teasing each other in the comfortable way that had been familiar years ago.

  She lifted her eyes. “Since you asked me to spend time with Mary, I was wondering if I could take her on Monday. I’ve been helping Mrs. Jorgenson with her flower gardens, and I thought it would be fun for Mary to dig in the dirt. I could even help her plant a garden at the parsonage. Just a small one so she could watch her own plants grow. I’d help her take care of it. I’m good at it, and it’s something I could teach her while I’m still here.”

  “Mary would enjoy that. Thank you.” Sarah probably had no idea how much he appreciated the gift she offered his little girl. “And it will give Rebecca one more day to herself.”

  Sarah blinked. “Rebecca?”

  “Since she has the summer off from teaching, she’s taking care of Mary while I’m working. Ellie has enough on her hands with the farm and her own children, so I decided to take Rebecca up on her offer. When school resumes and Ellie’s load is a bit lighter, I’ll take Mary out to the farm during the day.”

  “Oh.” Sarah’s eyes glistened with moisture. “How nice.”

  “I know you and Rebecca haven’t shared a friendship over the years...”

  “That’s putting it mildly.” She gazed behind him.

  “But, with Rebecca being a teacher, I thought it would be a wonderful opportunity for Mary to have that kind of attention. Rebecca has to be good with children, right?” After Sarah’s cool response, he wasn’t convinced his choice made as much sense as it had the other day.

  After all these years, Sarah still disliked Rebecca. He’d hoped she’d moved past their history, but some wounds took longer than others to heal, as he knew from personal experience.

  Rebecca had been cruel to Sarah when they were younger. He and Sarah never understood why the close friendship between the two girls changed into something hostile. Rebecca called Sarah horrible names and bullied the other children into staying away from her. For much of their childhood, Peter was Sarah’s only friend. By the time he left for college, Sarah and Rebecca were acting civilly toward each other, and he hoped they’d put their differences behind.

  Sarah disapproved his decision to put Mary in Rebecca’s care—that was clear. Did she believe he’d betrayed her friendship, or was Sarah threatened because she felt something more for him? He didn’t want to end the night without knowing, or being aware of what was going on—if anything—between her and William. Then there was her determination to serve in the mission field. What did she really want?

  “Sarah, I thought I was doing the right thing for everyone, but I’m sorry if I hurt you by
asking Rebecca to take care of Mary,” he whispered. “Men can be pretty thoughtless at times.”

  Sarah’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Peter.”

  The music ended, but Peter held on. Her eyes didn’t leave his, as though she didn’t want to lose the moment either. “Sarah...” His thumb softly caressed her hand.

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  “Could we talk later? Alone?”

  chapteR SIXTEEN

  A man yelled in unison with the sound of a chair slamming on a hard surface. Sarah dropped Peter’s hands, and without saying another word they rushed toward the commotion.

  People gathered to watch the fight. Sarah, seeing Will toward the center of the ruckus, maneuvered her way through the semi-circle.

  A red-faced farmer pointed a finger in Frank Boyle’s face. “This isn’t a party for drunkards!”

  “C’mon, Frank.” Will stepped between the new blacksmith and the angry man. “You don’t want any trouble.”

  Frank staggered, but righted himself. “I’m not leaving! I have just as much right to be here as you!” He threw a weak punch, but Will blocked it with his left arm, then shoved Frank back. The blacksmith stumbled, fell against a wall, and slid to the floor.

  Sarah flinched at the loud thump. What possible reason could he have to be so upset?

  The blacksmith wearing dirty, wrinkled clothes and stubble on his face, leaned his head against the wall, looking exhausted and defeated.

  “I think you’ve had enough.” Will offered Frank a hand. “Let’s get you out of here.” Will reached down, pulled Frank up, and swung the man’s arm around his neck.

  Several people stepped forward, but Will shook his head. “Carry on with the party, everyone. We’re fine.” Will took a few steps, guiding the wobbly blacksmith toward the door, but glanced around, seeming to search for someone. “Sarah?”

  Sarah joined him. “I’m here.”

  “I need to get him home.” He repositioned his grip on the blacksmith, who reeked of alcohol.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Peter met them at the door. “I’d like to help.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got this.” Will kept moving, but Frank twisted out of his grip, stumbled, and landed on his hip. Will tunneled fingers through his hair. “I better take you up on that offer, Reverend.”

  With one on either side of Frank, they lifted him off the floor, draped an arm around their shoulders, and trudged down the steps and onto the street with their unsteady companion. Sarah followed behind.

  The half-moon standing guard over the town offered some light on the back streets of town. An owl hooted. Several bats darted above them and then disappeared behind several maple trees. The music flowing from the opera house grew faint.

  Sarah’s mind reeled. Will had escorted her to the dance, and he’d been a perfect gentleman the entire evening, so abandoning him now would appear rude. She also hadn’t enjoyed herself that much in a long time. But, Peter would never have asked to speak in private—that night—if it weren’t important. How could she end the night without offending one of them?

  They escorted Frank in silence while he mumbled all the way down the street. He stumbled several times, but they kept him from falling and finally dragged him up the steps to his home. Sarah knocked and waited.

  Clara Boyle opened the door, and a look of horror flashed across her face. “Frank—what have you done?” She touched a bloody cut on his forehead. “Where have you been? The children and I have been worried sick.”

  Frank’s ornery demeanor softened. “I’m sorry, Clara.” He grabbed his wife’s hand, gave it a quick squeeze, and released it.

  “Mrs. Boyle?” Peter’s kind voice brought attention back to the fact that the two men needed to do something with her husband.

  “Please—please come in.” Clara stepped to the side and held the door open.

  “C’mon, Frank, in you go.” Will half led, half dragged, the blacksmith inside.

  Clara, wearing a simple gray dress, crossed her arms and wrapped them around her thin frame. “Thank you for bringing him home.” Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke. “I’ve been frantic. Frank left early this morning without a word. I didn’t know where to look or who to ask for help. The children...”

  Sarah draped her arm around Clara’s bony shoulders, and the timid woman’s eyes filled. Sarah’s heart ached for the couple. She couldn’t imagine what would cause someone to go on a drinking binge, and it probably mortified Clara for people to see her husband inebriated. Sarah had only spoken to her a few times when she’d come into the store, so Sarah knew little about her. But she’d always been polite, as well as gentle.

  “Oh, Pa!” Rose rushed to her father’s side and hugged him.

  Frank stroked his daughter’s hair. “I’m all right. You go off to bed now.”

  “Do as your father says.” Clara gently removed Rose from Frank’s arms, hugged her, and directed her toward a narrow stairway leading up to another floor. “You need to get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Rose turned and frowned, but sighed and trudged up the stairs.

  “Our room’s right over here. If you could help him to the bed, I’d be most grateful.” Clara led Will and Frank into the other room, but Sarah and Peter remained outside the bedroom door.

  Will dropped the man on one end of the bed, lifted his feet, and plopped them on the other end. The blacksmith dozed off before anyone could remove his boots.

  Clara closed the bedroom door behind her after she and Will stepped out. “Would you like a cup of tea?” She gestured toward the plain table in a dining area. “Please.” The spotless home, though humble with sparse furnishings, still felt comfortable and cozy.

  It didn’t feel right to leave Clara alone after what she’d been through. It would be far more loving to stay and offer reassurance. Sarah slipped onto a straight-backed chair. She’d accept the invitation, even if her male companions chose to leave.

  Will and Peter eyed each other, but joined her. They didn’t wait long before Clara brought tea and four cups—two plain and the one she’d been given for her birthday. She placed the rose teacup in front of Sarah, then sat across from her. The day Rose and James came into the store to purchase the teacup for their mother’s birthday remained a vivid memory for Sarah.

  “He’s not always like this.” Clara lowered her voice and dabbed her eyes with a dingy handkerchief. “He never drank like that ’til our son died.” She sniffed and held the cloth to her nose. “Lewis was fourteen. Frank was teachin’ him how to shoe horses at the shop where he last worked. He warned Lewis to be careful around this one horse—it was kind of wild, you know. But Lewis wanted so much for his pa to be proud of him.” Clara blinked, perhaps trying to keep her tears at bay. “When Frank wasn’t lookin’, Lewis tried to shoe the horse himself, and the animal kicked him in the head.”

  Poor woman. Sarah understood grief and what it did to a person, but to lose a child...This family was dealing with wounds that might take years to heal, if ever.

  “I just wanted you to know, so hopefully, you’d understand.” Clara wrung the handkerchief in her hands. “I do appreciate your kindness tonight—we all do.”

  Sarah reached across the table and covered the woman’s hands with her own. “I’m sorry your family has suffered such a terrible loss.” Her pulse beat a bit faster—an internal nudge wouldn’t leave her alone. Clara might refuse, but Sarah wouldn’t feel at peace without asking. “Could I pray with you?”

  Sarah didn’t check Will’s reaction, but she felt his surprise.

  “We haven’t been to church for years—not since...” Clara’s chin trembled. “I don’t think God cares to hear from us anymore.”

  “That’s not true. He cares very much about you, Frank, and the children. And he wants to walk beside you through your grief.”

  Clara didn’t speak, but she nodded.

  With hands wrapped around the Clara’s, Sarah closed her eyes and prayed in
whispers, just loud enough for those around the table to hear. But inside, her spirit was pounding on heaven’s doors, asking God to let this family know how much he loved them.

  Will fidgeted next to her, and she heard his chair scrape the floor as he left the table. Sarah finished praying and glanced at him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a pensive expression on his face. Something she’d said or done had put him in a contemplative mood.

  But Peter gave her a warm smile. His eyes reflected joy—and something else—pride?

  “Thank you,” Clara whispered. Her peaceful countenance was one answer to prayer.

  “Sarah, we should let the family get some sleep.” Will stepped behind Sarah’s chair and gripped the top sides, as though to pull it out for her.

  Peter caught her eye. “I was hoping we could finish our conversation...”

  Her heart pounded like a filly racing across an open field. The last thing she wanted to do was bring conflict into Clara’s home. But what to do? By the serious look on Will’s face, her praying out loud had thrown him. She wanted to hear what Peter had to say, but something was also going on in Will’s head. Both men stared, waiting for an answer. “I—”

  Someone knocked on the front door.

  Clara clasped her hands. “Oh, I hope that’s not more trouble.” She answered the door. “May I help you?”

  Billy Johnson peered around Clara. “Is Reverend Caswell here?”

  “He’s right over there.”

  The young boy, with his dark hair tousled and his shirt hanging loose, rushed past her and headed straight for Peter. “Reverend,” he huffed, sounding out of breath, “Doc Burnside said to find you. My ma just had my baby sister and she ain’t doin’ so good.”

  “Wait outside, Billy. I’ll be right there.” Peter pushed his chair back. “Thank you for the tea, Clara. Try to get some rest.” His questioning eyes searched Sarah’s. “Good night, Sarah.” He gave Will a nod, then Peter slipped out the door to assist another person in need.

  ***

  Will walked Sarah home, neither speaking more than a few words. She didn’t know what occupied his thoughts, but she reflected on all that had transpired that evening. It felt good—helping someone who was hurting and wanting God, but not knowing how to find her way back to him.