Sarah’s shoulders quivered. He leaned forward and looked at her. She turned farther away, dabbed her face, then hiked up her chin. He considered putting his arm around her, but she’d already gotten control of her emotions. Good. That strength of backbone would do her well out here.
“Sorry about your folks.” Quinn steered the buckboard onto the trail leading to the Rocking M and pulled the wagon to a halt. He waved a hand in the air. “As far as you can see in three directions is Rocking M land.”
“You’re blessed, Mr. McFarland. The bank took our farm after the fire.”
He wondered how they’d gotten by but figured that was a topic for another day. “Call me Quinn. Mr. McFarland was my pa.”
Her cheeks turned a rosy red. “And you must call me Sarah.”
He liked her name. It was a strong name. Sarah, as in the wife of Abraham, mother of the Hebrew nation. He clicked the horses forward. Abraham and Sarah had been united until death, but could a marriage such as his last? Maybe he’d be better off not getting his hopes up. Sarah obviously married him for one reason only—to get out of jail so she could get back to her siblings. He’d been a loner pretty much ever since his pa had died. It was best he cut his losses and protect his heart.
“Grandma hasn’t been well since Ma’s death. It took something out of her to watch her only child die. Having you and the children there will be an encouragement. I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you—except to care for Grandma. We’ll think of this as a business arrangement.” He glanced at Sarah, but she stared straight ahead, her lips pressed together. “I don’t want you to think you’re stuck with me forever. Once Grandma passes, I’ll give you enough money so that you and the children can start over somewhere else.”
❧
Shock rolled through Sarah, forcing her to look away from her husband for fear she might cry. Had he found her so lacking already, without even giving her a fair try, that he was ready to be rid of her the first chance he got? Or was it because she hadn’t been honest about the children?
She crushed a fold in her skirt as disappointment surged through her. Why, God? You freed me from jail and provided a home for us. So why does he wish to be rid of me so fast?
She blinked, pushing the tears away. This was just another obstacle she’d have to climb over. In the meantime, the children would have a home and food to eat. And hopefully, Uncle Harlan wouldn’t find them. At least her husband—she nearly choked at the word—would provide for them to start over.
If only they could find a permanent home. She was tired of not knowing what was ahead. She longed for security and thought she’d found it with Quinn. But it wasn’t to be.
“Tell me about your family.” Quinn glanced at her then focused on the trail ahead.
Her heart ached so badly that she didn’t want to talk to him. Some protector he turned out to be. Still, if she remained silent, he’d suspect something was wrong and most likely question her about that. She’d rather talk about her parents.
She peeked over her shoulder at the children still asleep in the back then faced forward again. “My father had a farm outside of Grand Forks. He grew mainly sugar beets.”
“Got downwind of a sugar beet farm once. Phew. That’s stinky stuff.” He waved his hand in front of his nose.
“I can’t say that I miss that much.” But she did miss her parents. How could life change so quickly? One day she was an innocent young woman looking to capture the eye of tall, blond Peder Ericksen. The next day she was homeless with two grieving children to provide for. The neighbors who took them in had been kind and sympathetic, but when those same neighbors sought to separate them, Sarah asked Peder to marry her. She’d never forget the shock in his pale eyes. When he said no, they’d caught the first train heading west in hopes the kind uncle she remembered from her youth would give them sanctuary.
She pressed her lips together. How could a man change so much in a few years?
Should she tell Quinn they might be in danger? That her outlaw uncle could very well come hunting for them?
Show me what to do, Lord.
“I don’t guess you’re used to all these hills after living in the flatlands.”
“No, but I like it here. The landscape is so interesting, and the view over every hill is a little different.” She looked out across the rugged terrain. Flat-topped buttes stood guardian over valleys of rocky grasslands. Covering her brows to block the sun, she stared at some black dots moving in the distance, a cloud of dust following. Buffalo. She’d never seen one before but heard they weren’t nearly as abundant as they used to be.
Quinn nudged her arm. “Look over there on that far hill.”
She turned and scanned where he pointed. “What are they? Deer?”
“Elk.”
“At first glance, this place looks barren, but there are many surprises.” Wildflowers danced in the light breeze, a pleasant contrast to the browns of the rocky hills. She heard a rustling behind her, and Beth crawled up to the back of the seat and leaned her arms on it.
“Are we about there? I’m hungry.”
“It’s not much farther. We have a cook name Elke. She can fix a snack to hold you until suppertime.”
“Elke’s a funny name.”
Sarah spun around on the seat. “Beth, we don’t poke fun at people’s names. That was rude.”
Beth hung her head for a moment then grinned. “Well, it is funny.”
Quinn chuckled, and Sarah glared at him. He didn’t need to be encouraging Beth.
“Elke is German. She’s the cousin of our previous cook, who went to live with my sister when she moved to her new husband’s ranch.”
“What is Elke’s last name?” Beth asked.
Quinn scratched his head and honestly looked perplexed. “You know, I’m not sure. I’ve just called her Elke ever since she arrived.”
“Well, we will find out, and you will call her by her last name. Is that clear, Beth?”
Her sister nibbled her lower lip and nodded. Quinn looked as if he’d like to argue with Sarah but wisely kept his mouth shut.
“What’s that up there?” Beth stuck her arm between Sarah and Quinn and pointed.
“That’s the sign to the Rocking M Ranch. We’ve been on my land for a while, but that’s the official entrance.”
“It looks funny standing there all by itself. Where’s the fence?”
Sarah’s eyes widened. If Beth kept this up they would never make it to the ranch house.
“I suppose it does look odd,” Quinn said. “But most of the land out here isn’t fenced. My ma wanted a sign, so my brother and I put one up.”
They drove under the sign that was supported by two tall beams. Sarah enjoyed the quiet of nature after being in the noisy town. Even better were the wide-open spaces and the feel of the sun on her face. A cool breeze kept her from getting too hot, but she wished she’d thought to buy a bonnet at the general store. Maybe she could make one for her and Beth if there was enough fabric left after making Beth a dress.
They crested another hill, and she sucked in a breath at the sight of the huge cabin that came into view.
“Is that your house?” Beth stood and leaned forward over the back of the bench. “It’s really big.”
Quinn nodded and a satisfied look encompassed his handsome face. “Yep, that’s home.”
“I’ve never seen a cabin so large,” Beth whispered as if in awe.
Sarah experienced the same amazement at her first view of the cozy home situated in a valley that was surrounded on all sides by tall buttes. This was a place that cried home—shelter. The safe haven she longed for, but it was only temporary. Why would God send them to this place only to have it taken away once they’d become settled?
“Pa wanted Ma to have a home she could be proud of. We had a big house back in Texas, and he wanted her to have a large one here. It wasn’t easy, though; we had to have much of the wood shipped in since there are so few trees around here. It to
ok a lot of hauling.”
Her father had provided a nice home for their mother and them, but it was all gone in a puff of smoke. She never knew how fast things could change.
Now that they were actually here, nervousness twittered in Sarah’s stomach. She crushed the fold of her skirt in her hand. How long would they be here? A few weeks? Months? Would Quinn’s grandmother send her packing when she learned that Sarah had been in jail?
Sarah lifted her chin and took a deep breath. One thing for certain, she was going to do everything possible to see that Quinn’s grandmother recovered from whatever it was that ailed her and that she lived a long, healthy life. Then maybe they could stay long enough for Quinn to come to care for them. And if he cared, maybe then he’d keep them.
Seven
With home in sight, the team picked up their pace and headed for the barn. Quinn still didn’t know how to explain to his grandma everything that had happened. He didn’t want to upset her and cause her to be afraid when she learned Sarah had been in jail.
Then again, Sarah was hardly intimidating. No, her wide, expressive eyes took in everything and emanated an innocence that couldn’t be faked. Still. . .how could he explain why he married a woman who’d been jailed for bank robbery? He hardly knew why himself.
Maybe it was the fear in her eyes. How they pleaded for someone to believe she was innocent. Or maybe it was that long dark hair swirling past her shoulders down to her waist. The only woman he’d seen with her hair down had been his sister, and that was hardly the same thing.
Something in him had wanted to be her hero. To rescue her.
He’d been a fool. A man alone for too long. He’d given in to a moment of insanity. How could any good come from such a harebrained idea?
He guided the wagon toward the barn. “Whoa. . .” He set the brake and turned on the seat to face Sarah before one of the ranch hands showed up. Ryan sat up and rubbed his eyes and looked around; his anger was subdued for the moment, replaced by open curiosity.
Beth jumped up and down. “Sissy. . .I got. . .”
Sarah looked at him. “Where is your necessary?”
“She can use the one behind the house.” He nudged his chin toward the cabin.
Sarah looked at Ryan, and the boy rolled his eyes. “Oh, all right. C’mon, Beth.” He helped his sister off the wagon and the two walked toward the house. Beth glanced over her shoulder as if checking to make sure Sarah wasn’t leaving.
“This is going to sound crazy, but I reckon you need to know this.” Quinn lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yesterday morning, my grandma informed me that I was to ride into town and meet my mail-order bride at the train station. That was the first I’d heard about her.”
Sarah’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. What was she thinking?
He plunged ahead before he lost his nerve. “She didn’t show up. But there was a letter at the post office saying she’d changed her mind.” Quinn looked away so she wouldn’t see his embarrassment. Where were the ranch hands? He yanked off his hat and fiddled with the brim, working up his nerve to continue.
Sarah laid her hand on his arm, drawing his attention back to her. “I’m sorry. That must have made you feel terrible.”
He didn’t want her compassion. He was a crusty ol’ rancher. Too hardened by life to need a woman. And yet something within him longed for Sarah to like him—to need him.
He looked down, hating that the sting of the bride’s rejection still pained him. “I want you to pretend to be the mail-order bride.”
Sarah’s brows lifted in surprise but quickly dipped down into a scowl. Quinn held up his hand. “Hear me out before you say no. Grandma hasn’t been well since Ma died. I’m afraid if I tell her you were in jail that it would cause her undue worry and make her worse.”
His wife’s pretty lips pressed together so tightly that they turned white. She breathed loud breaths through her nose like a riled up mustang. Finally, she looked at him. “I’m afraid I can’t pretend to be your mail-order bride. It would be lying.”
Irritation surged through him. “Seems a little late to be getting self-righteous.” Hadn’t she deceived him just this morning?
“I’m not self-righteous. I don’t believe in telling falsehoods.” She stuck that cute little nose in the air.
“Uh-huh. And I suppose you always refer to your brother and sister as your ‘belongings’?”
A rosy pink stained her cheeks and she looked away. “I told that sheriff I had siblings, but he didn’t believe me. He thought it was just a ploy to get out of jail.”
“But you didn’t tell me. You should have said something before we married. It’s a lot to expect a man to take on two children. He has a right to know about that before he marries.” His gut twisted. Sheriff Jones had mentioned something about two siblings.
She spun toward him. “And would you have married me if you’d known?”
Quinn resisted the urge to back away from the fire in her gaze. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “We’ll never know now, will we?”
Sarah looked down, suddenly contrite. “I’m sorry. But I couldn’t take a chance that you might change your mind. I had to get out of that jail and back to Ryan and Beth. Their lives were at stake. Can’t you understand that?”
Yes, he could. Far more than she’d ever know. He’d been the only father figure for Adam and Anna since the accident that claimed their pa’s life. He’d have done about anything to protect them from harm.
One of the horses whinnied as if questioning why he hadn’t freed him of the harness. Quinn stood and shoved his hat back on. “I understand, Sarah. But surely you can see how I want to protect my grandmother from worrying about being safe in her own home—just because I married an outlaw.”
“I am not an outlaw.” Sarah stood, coming only up to the bottom of his nose. “And I do understand, but I still won’t lie to your grandmother. That’s no way to start a relationship.”
Quinn heaved a sigh, thinking their own relationship had started with falsehoods, but kept that thought to himself. “All right. Let’s go up to the house so you can meet her.”
He jumped down and came around to help his wife. She placed her arms on his shoulders as he lifted her down. She didn’t weigh much more than a newborn calf.
He started to let go but she held on, drawing his gaze to hers. “I won’t tell her how we met. I will leave that up to you, if possible.”
“Fair enough.” Quinn offered her his arm and guided her toward the house. His esteem for her grew. He’d asked a stupid, impulsive thing of her. He didn’t believe in telling falsehoods either and had surprised himself by asking her to do so. The fact that she’d refused elevated his opinion of her. Maybe she’d been telling the truth all along?
❧
Disappointment weighted down Sarah’s shoulders as anxiety swirled in her stomach. How could Quinn have asked her to lie to his grandmother? She’d thought him to be a man of fine character. He hadn’t leered at her like many of the other men in town had—at least once they’d decided not to lynch her. And he married her when he didn’t have to.
Why should it bother her so much? Most people lied every day. But that wasn’t how she’d been raised, and in her heart, she knew telling falsehoods was wrong.
She turned her thoughts to Quinn’s grandmother. Would the woman be shocked to learn Sarah wasn’t the mail-order bride she was expecting?
Beth ran around the side of the house, her gaze searching until it landed on Sarah. The girl hurried to her side. A door banged, and Ryan jogged toward them, apprehension in the boy’s blue eyes. He looked longingly toward the barn. Ryan had always wanted a saddle horse, but his pa had said they could only afford the mule needed for pulling their plow. Maybe Quinn would teach him how to ride.
“Listen,” she stooped and whispered, “don’t mention Uncle Harlan or his gold for now.”
The children both nodded, and their footsteps echoed on the wooden po
rch. Quinn opened the door and stepped aside to allow her to pass through first. Sarah smiled at him, knowing many men would have plowed inside without being gentlemanly.
The pungent scent of something cooking hung in the air, reminding her of how little she’d eaten in the past few days. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimness of the room. Beth took her hand and leaned against Sarah’s skirt. A nice-sized parlor held western-style furniture that Sarah assumed must have accompanied the family from Texas. The horsehair sofa looked old but still serviceable. A low, rectangular table sat in front of the sofa, with two chairs on the other side of the table. The parlor connected with the dining room, making one very large room. A table with seating for ten people boasted a vase holding colorful wildflowers. Too bad the flowers Beth gave Quinn had already wilted.
The door shut behind her, and Quinn strode past them. Ryan came around to Sarah’s other side and stood close but didn’t hang on her like Beth did.
“Grandma? I’m home.”
Home. If only this comfortable cabin could become their home, too.
“Coming.” A gray-haired woman glided into the room, a big smile on her face. Her gaze landed on Sarah, and her smile faltered.
She doesn’t like me. Sarah wanted to flee out the door, but there was no place to run to. They were stuck here, no matter how bad things might be. Quinn’s grandma looked at him and raised her white brows.
He shuffled his feet but held her gaze. “Grandma, this is Sarah. My wife.”
Surprise widened the woman’s eyes then the charming smile returned. “Welcome, dear. You don’t know how happy I am to meet you.” She hurried forward, not looking sick at all, and held out her hand.
Sarah took it, and the older woman laid her other hand atop Sarah’s. “I’ve prayed long and hard for you, my dear.”
Sarah glanced up at Quinn. He actually looked as if he was blushing, but she couldn’t tell for certain. She turned back to his grandma. “I’m Sarah Oak—”
Straight For The Heart Page 7
