Sarah Sunshine: A Montana Romance Novella

by Merry Farmer

  “I’m glad that you don’t,” he said.

  “Though I suppose it’s because you don’t spend none of your money on him.”

  He burst into laughter that had him spilling coffee on the table, though Sarah didn’t see what was so funny. “Imagine that!” he laughed.

  She only puzzled over it for a second. Her mind was already busy thinking about what she could do next. Plans were coming together faster than she could grasp hold of them.

  “So I suppose if I wanted to make things right with Mr. Sutcliffe without falling back into the life I used to live, I could follow his wishes and ask Miss Jones for help.”

  The merry amusement on Mr. Bell’s face dropped. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

  She was certain she was on to something. “And if I wanted Roy to forgive me for being such a pill and to love me for being a good, respectable woman worthy of standing by his side, I could work for it.”

  “Yes?” Mr. Bell said uncertainly.

  “Mind you, he’d have to shape up his ways a might too and stop picking fights with Mr. Sutcliffe.”

  “Of course.”

  “But … but I think he could love me. Really love me, not just in the saloon way. Maybe he could even consider marrying me. If he saw me as someone upstanding and respectable, that is. If he saw me put my whole past behind me.”

  “I think Roy would love you if you wore scarlet and danced in the rain, Sarah.”

  She gasped at the thought. “I would never do that! I’m an honest woman now and proud of it.” She took one last swig of milk and stood. “Thank you so much, Mr. Bell. I know exactly what I should do now.”

  “I’m glad I could help,” Mr. Bell said, but the uncertainty was still in his eyes.

  “This’ll be just the thing.” She drew in a breath and let it out in a happy sigh, pulling her shawl tighter over her shoulders. “I’ll be following Mr. Sutcliffe’s wishes and improving myself so that Roy will love me and want to marry me. Why, this could be the best idea ever!”

  She stepped away from the table, so full of excitement for everything that lay ahead of her that she forgot to stay and help Mr. Bell clean up breakfast. There was no time. She had a new life to start and a lot of learning to do before then.

  “Roy, have you seen anything come through about those curtains I ordered for the lobby windows?” Delilah swept into the small office of the new hotel where Roy sat behind a large mahogany desk, staring at a pile of papers.

  “Hmm?” His face hurt where Paul had left bruises, but more than that, his pride was as sore as it’d ever been. He’d acted like a complete buffoon the night before, there was no getting around it.

  “I swear, that is the last time I order something out of a catalog,” Delilah went on, lifting up each pile of paper in turn and looking at their contents. “Montgomery Ward, Sears ‘n Roebuck, it’s all people can talk about these days, but I don’t see why. I shoulda just ordered from Michael and Charlie West and been done with it.”

  “Mmm hmm.” The worst part of the whole mess had been the look in Sarah’s eyes. She’d cut him down without saying more than a few words. She’d been right. Fighting in public was no way to act if he hoped to be the man for her, the husband for her.

  “We only got five days ‘til the opening to make this place shine, to give folks something to talk about, and we don’t even have curtains for the front windows.”

  “Mmm.” There had to be something he could do to make things up to Sarah. She was mad now, but if he timed it right, he just knew he could win her back.

  “Roy.”

  But how? How did a man soothe the soul of a woman who’d seen you on your worst behavior?

  “Oh, Roy?”

  Flowers might be a good start. Women liked flowers. He sighed. Judging by the fire in Sarah’s eyes, it would take a whole garden.

  “Son, you gonna sit there mopin’ about it or are you gonna do something?”

  “I’ll get the curtains right away, ma’am,” he said, sucking in a breath and shaking himself out of his thoughts.

  He glanced up as Delilah crossed her arms, a sharp grin pulling up one side of her mouth. “So you were paying attention. Kinda hard to tell with all that guilt drippin’ off of you.”

  He blew out his breath and stood, running a hand through his hair. The fashionable suit jacket Delilah had bought to help him look the part squeezed tight across his shoulders—or maybe that was the cinch of shame.

  “What came over me?” he asked, pacing the small room. It was the hotel office, his office. He was about to be someone important. But boy, he didn’t feel like it. “Picking a fight with Paul like that.”

  “Paul Sutcliffe is mighty easy to pick a fight with,” Delilah drawled.

  Roy shook his head. “Sarah thinks highly of him. Something she does not now think of me.”

  “Come on now, honey. She’ll get over it. Sarah’s heart’s too big to stay angry for long, especially at you.”

  “I never seen her that upset.” He ignored her counsel, pacing harder. “She’s right too.”

  “Funny how things look simpler in the morning light.” Delilah uncrossed her arms and reached to pat his shoulder as he passed her. She stopped him, holding him to his spot. “Give her some time to cool down, and I’m sure she’ll be ready to run back into your arms as soon as you throw them open. Just make sure you open them. Now about them curtains.”

  “I can’t let it rest,” he said, shrugging away from her. “I gotta find a way to make things right.”

  Delilah threw up her hands and sat on the edge of the desk. “Well, since I ain’t gonna be able to get you to settle in one spot until you do, let me help.”

  Yes. It was exactly what he needed. He turned at the end of his last circuit across the room and strode to stand in front of her.

  “What do I do to win her back and make her marry me?”

  Delilah’s brow shot up. “Son, you sure do move quick.”

  He shook his head. “She needs me, Delilah. She needs me to guard her and protect her and prove to folks that she’s the sunshine of this town.”

  “Now there’s your first mistake,” Delilah said, poking a finger at his chest. “It’s a mistake that’s been made by plenty of men before you too. You gotta stop thinking about what you want for Sarah and what you can do for her and start thinking about what Sarah wants.”

  “What does Sarah want?”

  Delilah sighed in exasperation. “Ain’t you been listening?”

  He shrugged. “She wants to start a new life. She wants to be a respectable woman, someone folks look up to.”

  “Now you’re talking like the smart fellow I know you are.”

  She may have thought he was smart, but the only thing Roy felt was confusion.

  “How am I supposed to do anything to make people think she’s respectable?”

  “By showing her that you think she’s respectable,” Delilah said as if it were obvious, which it wasn’t. “Support her. Find out what she wants to do. Once you know that, help her do it without sticking your oar in. And for God’s sake, don’t let anyone talk you into thinking she’s anything less than the fine woman she is.” She ended on a note of grim seriousness.

  It wasn’t lost on Roy. He remembered the things Miss Jones had said about Sarah with a shudder. That woman was trouble.

  “I can do it.” He nodded. “I can help Sarah do what she wants to do.”

  “Without opening your big mouth to nay-say or railroad her.”

  “Without sayin’ nothing.”

  “Without saying anything. Honey, we gotta work on your grammar.”

  “Anything,” he nodded. Then he sighed. “I’d do anything to win her back!”

  “All right then.” Delilah pushed away from the desk and led him out of the office and into the large, unfinished lobby towards the door. “You’re gonna get out there and help Sarah do what she wants to do and start her new life.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

 
“And why are you gonna do that?” she asked as she reached the front door and opened it.

  “Because I would do anything to win Sarah back.”

  “No, honey,” Delilah said. “Because you’re not gonna be a lick of use to me until you got your head straightened out about that girl. Now get outta my sight!”

  Roy blinked once, then smiled. “I won’t let you down.” He rushed through the door, across the porch, and started down the steps.

  “Let me down all you want, boy. Don’t let Sarah down.”

  “I won’t!” he called over his shoulder.

  “And don’t open your mouth and wreck it all!”

  “I won’t say a word!”

  He set a fast pace, striding down the still unnamed street where the new hotel sat and crossing towards Main Street. Purpose invigorated him. He could make things right. All he had to do was drop to his knees before Sarah and eat a little humble pie. He could do it. For Sarah he could do anything.

  His steps carried him towards Main Street so fast that he nearly missed Sarah walking the other way. When he saw her, his heart dropped to his gut, and a little lower. She walked with her head held high, dressed in her Sunday best with her bright fringed shawl draped around her shoulders. The bonnet she wore must’ve been new. But it was the shining light of purpose in her eyes that drew him to her like a honeybee to a flower.

  “Morning, Sarah,” he said. “You’re looking as beautiful as a summer meadow today.”

  She tipped her chin up higher and kept her eyes looking straight ahead, but warm pink flushed her cheeks. Her lips twitched as if fighting her for the right to smile. He pivoted and fell into step beside her.

  “Good morning, Roy,” she said. “You’re looking mighty handsome today yourself. That suit makes you look,” her breath caught, “like a gentleman.”

  Hope made him feel six inches taller. “Where are you going on such a fine morning?”

  If he wasn’t mistaken, her steps slowed. His hand itched to take hers, to take hers forever.

  “I’m going to see about my future,” she answered.

  His skin prickled in excitement at the thought. She was heading toward the hotel, after all. His hotel.

  “Might I escort you there?”

  At last she looked sideways at him. Her eyes flashed with longing. Because he’d supported her. Because he’d offered to do what she wanted. Delilah was right.

  Sarah stared straight forward again. “You may walk with me if you’d like.”

  “That suits me just fine,” he said. Listen to her, Delilah had said. Do what she wants.

  They reached the corner of the new hotel road and he turned. Sarah, however, kept walking forward. Roy’s confidence faltered as he tripped over his feet to get back to her side.

  “Uh, Sarah? Where are you going?” he said. His energy frazzled into nerves.

  “I’m going to a place where I can learn to be a respectable woman,” she said.

  “All right.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He wasn’t supposed to question her.

  It only took a few minutes before questioning her was all he wanted to do. They kept on down the road, tracing a familiar path. When Sarah picked up her pace and walked ahead of him and turned into the lane leading to Miss Jones’s boarding house, his stomach turned over.

  “Um, what are we doing here?” he asked. Just as quickly he bit his tongue. He wasn’t supposed to be saying nothing. Anything.

  One of the house’s front windows scraped open.

  “What are you doing here?” Miss Jones snapped, sticking her head out into the cold.

  “Miss Jones, I would be very pleased to talk to you,” Sarah answered, over-polite.

  “I thought I told you I wanted nothing to do with your sort.”

  Sarah wasn’t to be deterred. As Roy hung back at the edge of the front yard, she marched boldly up the path to the porch. Miss Jones slammed the window shut. A few seconds later the front door flew open and she stormed out.

  “Get off my property, you hussy!”

  Roy clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. Sarah had other plans.

  “Good morning, Miss Jones,” she said, sweet as could be. “I’m so terribly sorry for the misunderstanding the other day.”

  “Misunderstanding?” Miss Jones puffed in indignation. “I was deceived as to your character and your intentions.”

  “I do apologize, ma’am,” Sarah said, miles more generous about it than Roy would ever have been. “It pains me that we started out on the wrong foot. I do so admire you, and I had my heart set on learning from you.”

  Roy snorted, figuring Sarah must have been joking with the woman. But no, she was serious. He dropped his shoulders and stared at the scene unfolding.

  Miss Jones was caught off-guard too. She planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at Sarah from the top of the porch steps. “What do you mean, learning from me?”

  “Well,” Sarah began, “you said that you wanted to offer me your godly instructions in an effort to make me a respectable woman. I’ve come to tell you that I would still very much like that instruction.”

  “Sarah,” Roy whispered, taking a step toward her. A second later he stopped himself. Delilah’d told him to keep his trap shut. She’d told him to support Sarah in whatever she wanted to do. He frowned. There was no way in hell this is what Delilah’d had in mind.

  “I will not allow an unrepentant prostitute to live under my roof,” Miss Jones said. Of all things, Roy found himself on her side.

  “I’m not asking to live under your roof, Miss Jones,” Sarah went on, worrying Roy senseless. “I’m just asking you to let me come here every day, to learn from you about the ways of honest people.”

  Miss Jones stared at her, stock still. She looked like an owl perched on the top of a barn, staring at a field mouse. It was clear to Roy that the rusty gears in the old biddy’s mind had ground into action. “Is that so?” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Sarah nodded. She took a daring step onto the first porch stair. Roy clenched his jaw hard to stop himself from running after her and dragging her back. “There ain’t no one in town more upright and respectable than you, ma’am,” she went on. “If anyone can show me the straight and narrow, it’s you.”

  “That is true.” The thin line on Miss Jones’s ugly mug that might’ve been a mouth tipped up at the corners.

  “Folks look up to you,” Sarah continued. “If they see that you’ve taken me under your wing, why they might understand that I’m well and truly done with my old life.”

  The line of Miss Jones’s mouth spread wider. “It’s possible.”

  “And if I learn to be honorable and respectable and godly, like you, maybe some fine gentleman might see me as good enough to become his wife.”

  Roy wasn’t sure if he imagined her raising her voice a hair and scooching her head to the side to peek at him.

  “Men are nothing but trouble, girl.” Miss Jones shook her finger like a schoolmarm. “You’d do best to stay away from them entirely.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sarah said, though with less enthusiasm this time. It was all Roy could do not to march up to the porch and carry her away. But he couldn’t. This was clearly what she wanted. And Delilah had said-

  “What about that one?” Miss Jones scowled and pointed a finger down the lane right at Roy. “I won’t have nothing to do with a hussy that has her minion following her around.”

  “Now see here-”

  Roy clamped his mouth shut without defending himself. What Sarah wanted, he told himself. What Sarah wanted.

  “I was just passing by, doing errands,” he ground out the excuse.

  For a fraction of a heartbeat he thought he saw a smile touch Sarah’s lips.

  “Roy don’t mean no harm,” she said. “He’s opening his hotel soon, so he’s much too busy to want anything to do with me.” She didn’t sound pleased about it. “And besides,” Sarah went on, “It was Mr. Sutcliffe who made me t
hink about coming back to you. He speaks so highly of you, ma’am, and I do believe it would please him to see me under your tutelage.”

  Roy’s heart dropped like a hot rock to his gut. That was why she was doing this? To please Paul Sutcliffe? He would show that no good, son-of-a-

  But no, he had to keep calm. He had to support Sarah. He had to keep his mouth shut.

  Dammit.

  “I think it’s a right fine idea,” he forced himself to say, the words as bitter as sin in his mouth.

  They were worth it when Sarah turned to smile at him. Though how she could be so pleased to be doing something so foolhardy was beyond him.

  Miss Jones watched the interaction between them with a grin that Roy didn’t like at all. She tapped one long finger against her thin lips. The spark in her eyes gave Roy the shivers. If he was smart, he would ignore Delilah’s advice and carry Sarah away now.

  “Well, if Paul Sutcliffe thinks you should come and learn from me,” Miss Jones said, “then I think we should give him exactly what he wants. Exactly what he deserves,” she corrected herself. “But I won’t waste my time if you’re just going to beg off when thing get uncomfortable.”

  “No ma’am.” Sarah was as earnest as a nun.

  “If we do this, then you must promise me you’ll see it through.” There was not one single thing about her acid tone that Roy found comforting. “Do you promise? Promise to do as I tell you without complaint?”

  “Oh, yes ma’am!” Sarah agreed.

  A thin, dry smile spread across Miss Jones’s lips. “Well, come on, girl.” She held her hand out to Sarah.

  Sarah stepped up the stairs and took the old biddy’s hand. Miss Jones closed her bony fingers around Sarah’s soft ones with a grip that Roy was convinced would turn his Sarah to stone. It did something much worse. Sarah smiled like something good had happened and let Miss Jones lead her across the porch and into the house.

  Roy swallowed, feeling sick. Whatever Sarah was up to, it was dead wrong of him to just let her walk into it like that.

  Chapter Six

  The awful feeling Roy had—that he’d let something bad happen while trying to do something good—stuck with him through the next few days. He shouldn’t have had time to fret about it, not with the hotel opening inching closer and closer. Delilah kept him busy day and night, checking on shipments, hiring staff, and learning how to use the new telephone she’d had installed in the lobby and a second in the office. He should have been in high heaven, except that every time he saw Sarah traipsing around town in Miss Jones’s wake, the gnawing in his gut got worse.