by Bess McBride
“Sarah! Sarah!” Faith and Agnes hurried up the boardwalk. Well, Faith hurried. Agnes merely strode. They did both at the same speed.
“You were rescued! Again!” Faith said, taking Sarah’s hand in hers. “You look an absolute fright, but you were rescued!”
“Elias did right by you,” Agnes said gruffly.
“How did you hear that I was back in town already?” Sarah said. “I just got back.”
“Oh, word travels fast around here, dear. My neighbor came to tell me about the rescue, and she had it from the stable owner, who had it from Elias.”
“Jeremiah rescued me too,” Sarah said to Agnes. “Along with Samuel Treadwell’s foreman and his ranch hands. It was quite the shootout.”
“We heard,” Faith said. “You must have been terrified.”
“Elias went after you as soon as he woke up. That was quite a blow he took,” Agnes said.
“I’m so grateful to Elias,” Sarah said. “To everyone.”
“What are you doing out here by your lonesome?” Faith asked. “Where is Jeremiah?”
“He went inside. He was going to bathe. Then I think he needs to see the doctor. I urged him to, but I’m not sure he’s listening to me.”
“Not listening to you?” Faith repeated. “Why wouldn’t he?”
Sarah, dying to talk to someone, bit her lip but then spilled the beans. “He wants me to stay, and I think I’m going to go. Henry still has that one ticket for tomorrow, and Jeremiah is loaning me the money to buy it.”
“I understand, dear,” Faith said. “I really do. You have not had an easy time of it here in Benson, have you?”
“I just went to buy my ticket, and Henry had jacked up the price. Well, he says the railroad did.”
“They’re always doing that,” Agnes grumbled. “Ought to be a law.”
“No kidding. So now I have to borrow even more from Jeremiah.”
“How much more do you need?” Agnes asked.
“Another dollar. Jeremiah will loan that to me later. Henry is closed though, so I’ll have to buy my ticket tomorrow morning before the train leaves. I really hope I don’t miss it.”
“A dollar!” Agnes repeated. “Why, that man...” She didn’t finish her thought, at least not verbally.
Sarah agreed with her, whatever she was thinking.
“It seems as if the fates are against you, my dear,” Faith said. “Have you noticed that?”
Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Not the fates. Just a lot of bad luck.”
“Benson isn’t all that bad, you know,” Agnes said gruffly. “You could have been stranded in lots of worse places.”
“I know, I know,” Sarah said, reaching to touch Agnes’s shoulder. Given the ground-in dust on her hand, Sarah didn’t let her hand linger. “I’m being rude. This is a lovely place. My mother loved it here, and I can see why. The desert and the mountains are so beautiful.”
“They are,” Agnes affirmed. “I know you’ve had a rough time of it here though.” She echoed her sister’s thoughts. “I guess I don’t blame you for thinking the worse of Benson. It hasn’t really shown you its good side.”
“Does it have one?” Sarah asked with a smile.
“Of course it does,” Faith said with a chuckle. “There is Jeremiah.”
Sarah’s cheeks flamed. “Yes, Jeremiah.”
“I know he must be sad to see you go,” Faith said. “He seemed very taken with you. And to ride out with a head wound and attempt to rescue you!”
Sarah was impressed with the Elias-to-stable owner-to-neighbor telegraph system.
“I will be sad to leave him,” Sarah said, accidentally saying too much.
Both women’s gray eyebrows lifted.
“You don’t say!” Faith said.
Sarah shook her head. “I can’t stay.”
“I do so wish you could,” Faith said, “but I really should stop saying so.”
“Yes, you should stop saying so, Sister. Can’t you see the girl is near to tears?”
Faith’s smile dropped, and she leaned in for an air kiss.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “Agnes and I just came to see that you were all right. I am sure you want to wash. Do you need another skirt? I think I might have one old one that I only wear once a month or so.”
Sarah shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“But your clothing is filthy, and I know the other clothing we gave you may be beyond repair.”
“I’m so sorry that I’m hard on your clothing,” Sarah said. “I owe you so much. I can never repay you. I think I can clean this. Is the material washable?”
“Yes, it will dry by morning. The air is so dry here in Arizona, you know.”
“Let the girl go now, Faith,” Agnes said.
“We want to see you off,” Faith said. “What time does the train leave? Have they changed the schedule?”
“Henry says it leaves at ten a.m.”
“Then we will see you tomorrow morning at the station.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said. She really didn’t want anyone there except Jeremiah, but she had no choice.
“Rest well, dear,” Faith said.
The sisters turned and walked away, and Sarah watched them go. She fingered the money in the pocket of her skirt and turned to look at the train station, wishing more than anything that she could talk to her mother.
Chapter Twenty
Jeremiah, having finally escaped questions from Eric and Nancy, entered his room. He had been pleased to hear that Eric, also sporting a bump on his head, was on the mend. Between them, Nancy and Eric had managed the desk and restaurant.
Before divesting himself of his soiled clothing, Jeremiah crossed over to the window to look out at the train station. An innocuous building that he had seen so many times before, it had suddenly become a monstrosity, for it would soon take Sarah away.
He wondered again what Virginia was like. Could he start over again, perhaps purchase a hotel there? Was it even an option? Or would Sarah truly disappear in time? He hoped with all his might that she would not, and yet he cursed himself for wishing that her desires were thwarted. Were he a better man, he would have simply wished her well and loved her from afar, however distant in space or time.
But he couldn’t. He was weak, selfish. He wanted Sarah to stay, despite what she wanted.
“How could you sink so low?” he said aloud. “How could your desires supersede her needs?”
He heard voices from below his window and looked down. Sarah, who had not yet entered the hotel, spoke with Faith and Agnes. His mother had been a combination of the two women—sweet like Faith and strong like Agnes. His mother would have liked Sarah very much.
As he watched the women, he thought of his mother’s legacy, the Benson Arms. He had never thought to do anything else but manage it, improve upon it and pass it along to his descendants. He had never truly desired to do anything else.
But the Benson Arms was in Benson, Arizona. It was not in Virginia. He had heard Sarah speak of the hotel’s future with sadness, and he wondered what happened over the years that his descendants let it fall to ruin.
His heart jumped. Had it fallen to ruin because he left? Had he moved to Virginia after all? The only scenario in which he would move to Virginia was if Sarah did not manage to travel forward in time but still wished to live in the East.
He drew in a gulp of air, realizing he had been holding his breath. Only time would tell...if it did at all. He hoped he would know within a few days if Sarah reached Virginia in 1890. If not, he might never know. The uncertainty would kill him—it would absolutely destroy him.
With a sigh of exasperation, he shed his clothes, donned a robe and went down to the washroom.
An hour later, washed, shaved, head bandage removed and hair combed, he dressed and went downstairs to relieve Eric.
“Thank you,” Jeremiah said. “I will manage from here. Go get some rest. If you’re anything like me, you’ve got a headache.”
&n
bsp; Eric smiled. “No, I’m fine. I’ll go get something to eat though. How is your head?”
“It aches. Doesn’t feel like it’s ever going to stop.”
Eric tsked. “I’ll bring you some tea while I wait on my food.”
“Thank you. Did Sarah come in?”
Eric nodded. “She did. Thank goodness she wasn’t harmed.”
“Thank goodness,” Jeremiah agreed. “I believe she is set on leaving tomorrow.”
“Yes, she told me. I am sorry, Jeremiah.”
“What for?” He lifted his chin. “No need.” He didn’t want Eric to answer the question.
Eric didn’t take his cue. “I’m sorry that she is leaving, Jeremiah. I think you have grown quite fond of her in this short period of time. I can see why.”
Jeremiah’s shoulders sagged. “She wants to leave. She was really never meant to be here.”
“Why do you say that? Perhaps missing her train was destiny.”
“Destiny,” Jeremiah repeated darkly. “What nonsense!”
“No,” Eric said, “not nonsense at all. You can never know how or why she came to be here.”
“Ah! But I can,” Jeremiah said. “There are things you do not know, Eric. I appreciate your encouragement, but it is a false hope. Sarah is leaving, and that is what she wants. I cannot stand in the way...even if I knew how.”
“Yet you loaned her the money to leave, didn’t you?”
“Gave her the money. It is not a loan.”
“Why did you give her the money then, if you didn’t want her to leave?”
Jeremiah looked at Eric as if he were crazy.
“Yes, all right—that was a stupid question,” Eric said. “Of course you did. I would have done so too. My original point was to dispute your notion that she ‘was never meant to be here.’ I think that she was meant to come here and that she fell into your arms for a reason.”
“Because she lost her balance when she was trying to break the window,” Jeremiah said gruffly. “Enough of this fairy tale. Go eat.”
Eric smiled widely and left. Jeremiah went into his office, leaving the door wide open. There he did none of the work that needed attention but only stared out the window at the train station.
He whiled away the afternoon doing much of nothing other than check a few guests in and out. At about five o’clock, he left Eric at the desk and went upstairs to tap on Sarah’s door. She opened the door, her face wan and tired. She had washed the dust off, and her hair shone clean, but she wore the same skirt and blouse as that morning, though some attempt had been made to clean them.
“I was hoping you would have dinner with me,” he said bluntly. “You are not required to, of course.”
She hesitated, and his heart ached.
“I will not beg you to stay again.”
Her amber eyes glistened. “No, I guess not,” she said cryptically. “Yes, I would like dinner. Now?”
“If you are ready.”
She left the room and followed him back down the stairs. Given the early hour, they had the dining room to themselves. Jeremiah struggled for banal conversation, when all he wanted to do was keep begging her to stay. That conversation was finished. As he had promised, he would not bring it up again.
Please stay with me. Please stay with me. The words ran through his mind again and again, drowning out all over conversation.
“This is delicious,” Sarah said.
“Yes,” Jeremiah replied with a nod.
Don’t go, Sarah. Please don’t go.
Sarah kept her attention on her food, and Jeremiah moved his around on his plate.
“I have to try, Jeremiah,” she said.
He looked up.
“If I don’t try, I’ll never know.”
Jeremiah, remembering his promise, formed his words carefully. “What do you miss about your home?”
Sarah looked toward a couple entering the restaurant. She watched the couple seat themselves and Nancy attend them, and Jeremiah wondered if she was going to answer.
“Nothing, I guess,” Sarah said. “It’s green. It’s humid. My job is pretty average. I’m not very social, so I don’t know that I’ll miss anyone, maybe just my coworkers.” As if she realized what she had said, she amended her words. “That is, I don’t know that I miss anyone. I’ll see them soon enough.”
Jeremiah had heard her slip of the tongue, and his heart had leapt for an instant. He tamped it down though.
“Tell me about your parents,” he said.
For the next hour, Sarah described her parents, and Jeremiah talked about his parents. They commiserated on being only children, keeping the conversation deliberately light.
While they talked, Jeremiah tried to release her from his heart. He tried his very best. He failed. But he smiled so that she would not know. The night seemed as if it would never end. It seemed as if it ended all too soon.
The following morning, Jeremiah decided against breakfast, preferring to take coffee in his office. He had not slept and thought he could not possibly stomach food. At 9:20, doing nothing more than staring at his pocket watch and looking out the window at the train station, he heard a knock on the office door. He rose and picked up his hat.
“Come in,” he said in a husky voice.
As expected, Sarah opened the door and peeked in. “Are you ready?” she asked, stepping inside the door.
“Not really,” he said with a forced smile that fell flat. “Yes.”
Sarah looked haggard. Her eyelids looked swollen, and her nose was red.
“Are you ill?” he asked quickly.
“No,” she said briefly.
Jeremiah thought that perhaps she hadn’t slept as well.
“Are you nervous about what is to come?”
A small smile lightened her face briefly. “I am. Thank you for recognizing that. I’m actually pretty afraid of the unknown.”
Jeremiah nodded. He resisted saying anything to discourage her. He had to let her go, he told himself for the hundredth time.
“Shall we?” He walked to the door and opened it, avoiding coming close to Sarah for fear he might grab her, fall to his knees and grovel yet again—all to her distress.
Sarah preceded him out the door. Eric, filling in while Jeremiah stepped out, said his farewells.
“Come back to visit us, Miss Chilton,” he said, his eyes darting between the two of them.
Jeremiah knew Eric hoped Sarah would change her mind about leaving, but that was not to be.
Sarah stepped behind the counter and hugged Eric. His reddened cheeks would have been comical if Jeremiah had been in a mood to laugh. Eric extricated himself as soon as possible.
“Thank you for everything, Eric. And tell your mother thank you. She is the best cook I’ve ever known.”
“She would be tickled to hear that, Miss Chilton. She has gone to the mercantile right now, but I will be sure and tell her.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said again, turning to follow Jeremiah out the front door.
Jeremiah opted not to offer Sarah his arm, not because he was angry but because he didn’t trust himself. He saw her reach for his arm, as had been their custom, but he stepped off the boardwalk and strode across the road.
Sarah followed.
“Are you angry with me, Jeremiah?” she asked breathlessly as she hurried to keep up.
“Not at all, Sarah. Not at all.” And he was not.
They entered the station to find travelers seated or wandering around while awaiting the train’s arrival.
“Oh no!” Sarah said. “I hope he still has that ticket left!”
Jeremiah said nothing but approached the counter. They waited in line behind four people—a couple and two young women. When finally their turn came, Jeremiah deferred to Sarah.
“Hi, Henry!” she said breathlessly. “Please say you still have a ticket?”
“Good morning, Miss Chilton. Mr. Stone. To Chicago? Then on to Virginia?”
Sarah nodded vigorously.
>
“Indeed, I do still have that one remaining seat.”
Sarah handed over the money Jeremiah had lent her, and he added a dollar to the pile.
“Fifty-one dollars, right? Please say it didn’t go up again!”
Jeremiah didn’t know if he was elated for Sarah or despondent for himself. All emotions felt the same at the moment—chaotic, unpredictable and damaging to his heart and soul.
“Not at all. Fifty-one dollars is correct,” Henry said. He then busied himself writing out the ticket, a process that seemed to take an exorbitant amount of time considering how many times Sarah had come to purchase a ticket. A young mustached man in a brimmed hat and clothes dusty from the trail rushed up to stand behind them. He spoke as hurriedly as he had arrived.
“Good mornin’,” he said, tipping a finger to his hat.
Jeremiah and Sarah returned the greeting.
“On my way to my wedding in El Paso tomorrow,” he said. “Gonna pick up my bride and bring her back here. Can’t tell you how long we’ve been waiting, but I’ve got money for my ticket, I’ve got a tiny little house for us, and I’m ready to see my Sara.”
Sarah gasped. “That’s my name! What a coincidence!”
Jeremiah swallowed hard. Sarah was on the point of purchasing the last ticket on the eastbound train. He didn’t want to remind Sarah of that fact.
“You don’t say!” the young man said. “It’s a beautiful name. She’s a beautiful girl. You’re beautiful too, ma’am, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Oh goodness! How sweet of you to say.” Sarah’s cheeks turned rosy.
Just then Faith and Agnes entered the station and came toward them.
“I was so worried that we wouldn’t get here in time,” Faith said, slipping a hand around Sarah’s arm.
“We are here in plenty of time,” Agnes said gruffly.
Jeremiah had not been aware that the sisters intended to come to the station to say farewell to Sarah. He sighed heavily. He had wished to have her all to himself, to savor their last moments together.
Sarah gave him an almost apologetic look, and he dared hope that she had felt the same.
“Good morning, Faith. Agnes. It was so nice of you to come.”
“Here you go, Miss Chilton,” Henry said. He took the money and handed her a ticket. “Train will be here in about fifteen minutes. Boarding then.”
