Standing Bear's Surrender

by Peggy Webb

  Sarah saw it, too.

  “You don’t want to do this,” she said softly.

  Then she started moving toward the boy, and in that instant everything changed. Archie snaked out one arm and grabbed Sarah.

  If he lived to be a hundred, Jim would never forget her scream. It cut through him like a knife.

  Jim was up and running, the wheelchair overturned in the dirt, his legs pumping as if they’d never forgotten how to run, his battle cry pure savage Sioux.

  Years of hand-to-hand combat training came into play. He captured Archie in one swift move, twisting the arm that held the weapon. The knife fell to the ground and lay in the dirt like an obscenity.

  The crowd stood dumbfounded. Sarah’s hand flew to her mouth, and she made a sound like a baby bird fallen from its safe, familiar nest.

  “It’s all right, Sarah,” Jim said, his voice calm. “Everything’s all right.”

  And suddenly it was. Fear for Sarah had catapulted Jim out of his wheeled prison, and he was standing on his own two legs with his feet planted on the ground for the first time since his accident. Planted firmly.

  There was no swaying. No weakness in the knees. No certainty that within the next few minutes his face would kiss the ground.

  Jim Standing Bear was reclaiming his identity. He was reclaiming his life.

  “Jim, you walked,” Sarah whispered, and in her eyes shone the knowledge that he had done it for her.

  Chapter Eight

  Jim was in the shabbiest part of town standing in front of a tenement house that looked as if it should be condemned. The only way he could explain his presence there was Sarah.

  The look on her face when the principal had suspended Archie for carrying a weapon onto the school grounds had ripped Jim’s heart in two.

  After the principal left she’d turned to him in soft and lovely supplication.

  “Oh, Jim. Can’t we do something?”

  “The rules are good ones, Sarah. We can’t change them.”

  What he could change, though, was the sadness on Sarah’s face.

  He hoped. And prayed.

  After what had happened on campus that day, Jim knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his hot line was open with the Father Creator.

  Sending a prayer winging upward, he walked up the rotting steps and knocked on the door. A woman with twigs of hair wrapped in foil stuck her head out the window. The sun glinting on her head made her look like a creature from outer space.

  “Whadda ya want?” she yelled.

  “I’m looking for Archie,” Jim said, and within minutes the boy was walking toward him with a lifetime of anger coiled tightly in his belly and defeat stamped on his face.

  Now there was no turning back.

  The excitement of the day was still on Sarah when she got home, and she poured out the story to her sister.

  “You should have seen him, Julie,” she said after she’d recounted Jim’s heroics on the campus of Southside. “He was magnificent.”

  Julie gathered her scarf and purse before replying. Sarah knew what that meant. She was in for one of Julie’s big sister lectures.

  “Let me get this straight. Jim Standing Bear walked, just like one of those miracles you see on TV evangelistic shows, and you don’t say it was exciting or even miraculous. Instead you tell me that he was magnificent.”

  “If you had been there, you’d have said the same thing.”

  “I see.” Julie pursed her lips and gave her famous look.

  Sarah knew what that meant, too. Lord knows, she should. She’d seen it enough while they were growing up. The look meant that Julie was not only going to lecture, she was going to try and take charge.

  She tried to forestall Julie’s avalanche of advice by retreat.

  “Forget it.”

  “Forget it! You want me to forget that you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes extolling the virtues of Jim Standing Bear, who, might I add, is perhaps the most delicious-looking man I’ve seen since college.”

  Sarah’s blush gave her away, and she silently raged at the fates for giving her such a telltale signal. Wasn’t it enough that her face was plain? Did it have to be as readable as a billboard, too?

  “It’s not like that, Julie.”

  “Why not, Sarah?”

  “You know the answer to that as well as I do. I’m not exactly Queen of the May, and besides that, I have responsibilities.”

  “He’s my father, too, Sarah. Or have you forgotten that?”

  “No, it’s just that you have a family to take care of and I don’t. Except Dad. He’s my primary concern, Julie.”

  “I’ll declare, Sarah, for someone so smart you are about the most dense person I’ve ever known. Sometimes I just want to wring your neck.”

  “How did the sitter do today?”

  “Okay, and don’t change the subject. When are you going to quit hiding and start living, Sarah? That’s what I want to know.”

  The truth hit Sarah with a staggering force. Since she’d moved next door to Jim Standing Bear she’d tasted life. And it was delicious.

  She glanced out the window and across to the rooftop where she’d first seen him, her Blue Angel.

  “Sarah?” Julie put a hand on her shoulder. “I want only the best for you because you’re my sister and I love you.”

  “Tomorrow, Julie.”

  “Tomorrow, what?”

  “That’s when I’m going to start living.”

  For the first time since she’d been teaching, Sarah became a clock-watcher. Fifteen more minutes and the bell would ring. Fifteen more minutes and she could see Jim. After all, he’d saved her life yesterday and she hadn’t even thanked him properly.

  She’d planned to do that yesterday but after Julie left, her dad and the sitter got into an argument and Sarah rushed upstairs to make the peace.

  “He wants me to dance,” the sitter had told her, and the look on Evelyn Grimes’s face told Sarah exactly what she thought of that notion. “I wasn’t hired to dance.”

  “Ginger’s gone and I need a new dance partner.”

  Her father was wearing the top hat he’d found at the flea market in Searsport, Maine, years ago when he and Sarah had gone up to visit one of her college friends who lived in a cottage on Penobscot Bay. At the time he’d been pleased to find something that reminded him of the great old veterans of dance he so admired, Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire, and now it had become his identity.

  He two-stepped around his sitter, then swept off his hat and bowed from the waist.

  “They’re playing our song, Cyd.”

  “Who’s Cyd?”

  “Cyd Charisse,” Sarah said. “A great dancer.” Sarah took her father’s hand. “Hello, Fred. I’m back.”

  “Ginger?”

  “Yes, it’s Ginger.”

  “You’ve been gone a long time.”

  “I know, but I’m back now and I want to dance. Will you dance with me?”

  “My pleasure.”

  Her father swept off his top hat and bent over Sarah’s hand. Then he swung her into a slow stately waltz. Sarah could almost hear the strains of the “Blue Danube.”

  The school bell cut into Sarah’s thoughts. With anticipation singing through her blood like new wine, she dismissed her class and hurried home.

  Julie met her at the door. “Have you been in your garden?”

  “Seeing my garden is the last thing on my mind today.”

  Sarah tossed her books onto the hall table and wondered whether she should take the time to put on lipstick.

  “I think you should take a look.”

  “I’m in a hurry, Julie. The garden will have to wait.”

  “Go to your garden, Sarah. I insist.”

  “Good grief. I have things to do, important things. What is all this silly business about the garden?”

  Julie caught her shoulders and turned her toward the door.

  “Just go out there and look. You’ll find out for yourself.”


  Sarah was set to argue, but her sister waved her outside.

  “Go on. Scat. Shoo. Dad’s asleep and the sitter’s having tea in the kitchen and I’m headed home to see what my hellions did in school today.”

  “All right, Julie. You win. Is it all right if I get my garden hat first?”

  “Whatever.” Julie was grinning like a cat that had swallowed the canary.

  Sarah felt grumpy when she went out the door. She was anxious to go through the hedge and see Jim. Why had she let her sister talk her into going to the garden?

  The answer was simple. She could never stand firm in the face of Julie’s persuasions.

  Maybe she ought to take her hoe. Maybe Julie had discovered an exotic type of weed growing out there. That was ridiculous, of course. Julie didn’t know a weed from a petunia.

  Still out of sorts, Sarah pushed open the garden gate.

  “Surprise, Sarah.”

  Jim was standing in the middle of a garden paradise. Azaleas and forsythias and hawthorne competed for attention with hyacinths and jonquils and tulips. And in the midst of it all stood a star magnolia dripping with white blossoms.

  Her ruined garden had been transformed. It was spectacular. But more spectacular still was the sight of Jim walking. She still couldn’t get over the miracle of it.

  “Do you like your garden, Sarah?”

  “Like it? I love it.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “You did this?”

  “I’d love to take full credit, but I can’t. Actually I had a little help from Archie.”

  “Archie?” Sarah was so dumbfounded she could hardly speak. “How did that happen? What’s going on?”

  “Come.” He caught her hand and led her to the garden bench. “Sit beside me and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  She sat on a stone bench in the shade of an ancient chinaberry tree beside the fountain and took off her hat. When Jim sat beside her close enough so that their thighs touched, she felt feminine and desirable, exciting, even. She felt like a woman full of mysteries and possibilities.

  Sarah could have stayed that way forever. Caught up in the wonder of the moment, she became purely selfish. She didn’t want to hear news about her garden, her students, or even her father.

  “In the short time I’ve known you, Sarah, I’ve seen your love of two things—your students and your garden.”

  “I used to watch you watching me from the rooftop,” she murmured.

  “I wanted to make the garden beautiful for you, Sarah.”

  “No man except my father has ever wanted to make anything beautiful for me. I’m overwhelmed,” she said, her eyes misting.

  “Tears?”

  “I always cry when I’m happy.”

  She could no more stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks than she could stop the sun from rising in the east. Jim wiped them away with such tenderness, Sarah cried all the harder.

  “You must really be happy, Sarah.”

  How could she possibly explain to him the true nature of her tears? How could she tell a man who was so gorgeous he’d probably had women falling at his feet all his life that she had never felt the tenderness of any man? Except her father, of course, and that didn’t count.

  It was romance that Sarah longed for. Romance that she’d prayed for as she stood on the sidelines and watched men pay homage to her sister’s beauty and charm.

  No man had even found Sarah charming. She considered that a particularly painful failure since her father had spared no expense to provide his daughters with schooling in every social grace known to man.

  The schooling didn’t take on Sarah. At least that’s what she had thought. Until today. Until a dark warrior named Bear had come into her garden and made her feel worthy of paradise.

  His hands were still on her face, and she hardly breathed for fear he would take them away. Yesterday she’d told her sister that she was going to start living, really living.

  Her blood sang like a chorus of birds celebrating the first flowers of spring. Her skin flamed as if somebody had lit torches underneath. Her mouth was dry.

  And she didn’t want it to end. Not for a long, long while.

  But how was she going to keep him interested? What was the next step? She wished she’d spent more time reading romance novels and less reading textbooks.

  What good was the latest education theory when your heart was on fire?

  Jim’s eyes burned through her. His fingers caressed her cheeks.

  “Sarah, the sight of your happiness moves me to tears.”

  He was telling the truth. His dark eyes were suspiciously bright and a bit of moisture was caught on his eyelashes. Were all men so honest about their emotions?

  Sarah hadn’t a clue. Why should she? The only man she’d known up close was this Sioux warrior who was exceptional in every way. She couldn’t possibly use him as a measure of ordinary men. He was not merely head and shoulders above; he was mountains above. He was Everest while every other man was a modest knoll in the foothills of the Appalachians.

  Jim leaned toward Sarah, his intent stamped clearly on his face. He was going to kiss her.

  Had Julie left? Sarah thought so. She vaguely remembered hearing the sound of a car soon after she opened the garden gate.

  Then there was Jim, and nothing else had mattered.

  His lips brushed hers softly, and she closed her eyes, forgetting to breathe. The heavens were wrapped up in his kiss, and through it all she smelled the fragrance of flowers.

  His touch was fleeting, his kiss brief, but in it she had seen how tenderness can be one of the most important elements in a relationship.

  Jim shifted so that they were no longer touching, and a bit self-consciously he stared out across the garden. But Sarah was content. Sitting beside him in quiet companionship filled her with contentment.

  A cardinal flew down and perched in the empty birdbath, pecking at bits of seed that had landed there, wind-borne. Robins, fat with the bounty the earth provided every spring, scratched the newly turned flower beds. And high on the ancient brick wall a mockingbird scolded them all.

  “Tell me about Archie, Jim.”

  “He’s working for me while he’s on probation, and I’m tutoring him so he won’t fall so far behind.”

  Without fanfare, Jim had handed Sarah another miracle.

  “I was worried sick about him,” she said.

  “I know. That’s why I’m helping him.”

  “For me?”

  “All for you.” He laughed. “But don’t think I do this kind of thing every day. I’m basically a very selfish man, Sarah.”

  “Oh, I can see that. I’ve never seen a more selfish creature in all my life.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You don’t fool me for a minute, Jim Standing Bear. I’ve known since the first day I met you that you’re a kind man.”

  “In view of my behavior, I don’t know how you determined that.”

  “Delta told me.”

  Jim exploded with laughter. “And what else did the Mouth of the South tell you about me?”

  “Oh, terrible things. That you turn down the pages of books instead of using a bookmark, that you use too much butter on your popcorn, and that you have never once in all the years she’s known you eaten an oyster.”

  Sarah stopped, breathless and surprised. She’d never known how to make small talk. Why was it so easy with Jim? Would everything be that easy with him?

  Her thoughts took a naughty turn, and she blushed the color of the azaleas.

  Jim studied her for a long time, and she blushed even darker.

  “Care to share that thought with me, Sarah?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re a woman of secrets, are you?”

  With one statement he’d made her sound intriguing instead of shy and awkward. Her heart flowered like a camellia, and all the love songs she’d ever danced to poured through her mind.

  Why had she ever thought
those phrases were trite? In her garden where miracles happened, Sarah knew that some of the most absolute truths were contained in the lyrics of Broadway show tunes.

  The sun began its western descent, and the garden was filled with soft purple shadows and the dying glow of gold. Jim stood.

  Sarah felt like a child suddenly deprived of her favorite candy.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “For now.” Bending down, he kissed her hand in a grand gesture worthy of nineteenth-century Southern gentlemen. “I’ll come back, Sarah. And when I do, I’m going to discover all your secrets.”

  Sarah sat on her garden bench hugging his delicious promise to herself. She didn’t go inside until the sitter called to her from the front porch.

  And then she didn’t walk. She floated.

  Jim was whistling when he went inside. Courting Sarah Sloan was going to be fun.

  And then what? The question nagged at him while he heated a bowl of chicken and dumplings Delta had made. Resolutely, he shoved the worrisome question from his mind.

  He had just started walking again. Didn’t he deserve to enjoy himself for a while? Sarah made him feel alive. She made him feel good about himself and about life in general.

  And for right now, that was enough. His future was still murky, his plans uncertain. Sarah was the only concrete thing in his life, the only certainty.

  He wanted her, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she wanted him. What could be simpler?

  Chapter Nine

  “You knew he was in the garden all along.”

  Julie laughed so hard, Sarah had to hold the telephone away from her ear.

  “Of course I knew. He came to the door with that sullen young man and asked my permission to plant your garden. Are you complaining, Sarah?”

  “No, not at all. It was a nice surprise.”

  “Nice? That’s not exactly the word I’d use to describe Jim Standing Bear.”

  “It was wonderful, Julie. The most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.” Sarah twisted the phone cord around her fingers. “I think he’s going to ask me out. I can’t be sure, but it sounded that way.”

  “Of course he’s going to ask you out. Why shouldn’t he?”