Sarah Snares a Soldier

by Linda K. Hubalek

  Chief whinnied while turning his big body to look in the distance. After a second, Marcus spotted a horse racing toward them. Marcus quickly pulled his rifle from the scabbard out of habit.

  A moment later he relaxed, putting the rifle back in its place when recognizing Hilda’s palomino paint horse, Nutcracker. Wait. Hilda was Sarah’s wedding attendant, so why would she be racing out here? What happened causing Hilda to be riding out here in a hurry?

  But it didn’t look like Hilda lying forward on the horse’s neck. The woman was astride the saddle with… her bloomers showing and her dark green gown and segments of her dark coffee–colored hair billowing behind her. Marcus sat in shock as Sarah raced toward him. What’s she doing here?!

  Chief pranced out of the way as the gelding skidded to a stop near them. “Marcus, don’t leave!” Sarah pleaded as she scrambled off the saddle, impatiently pulling her gown off the saddle pommel where it had caught on her descent.

  “Sarah, why are you here?! You were supposed to marry Ethan today! You should be at the church enjoying the celebration picnic with your husband.” Marcus couldn’t keep the anger and pain from shaping his words. In one way, he was thrilled she hadn’t gone through with the wedding, but it only made matters worse. His chest hurt, knowing he’d still had to leave her.

  “It wasn’t fair to go through the ceremony when I don’t love Ethan like a wife should…so I left before we were married,” Sarah shot back as she grabbed Chief’s bridle so Marcus couldn’t take off.

  “As in you rode off on Nutcracker, leaving the man at the altar? What is it with you women and that horse?!”

  “He’s fast, and I needed to get here quickly to stop you from leaving,” Sarah snapped. She reached up to place her hand on his knee before continuing softly. “Marcus we can marry and have a wonderful life together. Please get off your horse and let’s talk about it. Please? I left my wedding to speak to you.”

  Marcus took a deep breath before carefully swinging his right leg over the saddle and setting his foot on the ground, then pulling his left foot out of the stirrup to steady both legs. Marcus ached to pull Sarah into his arms, but he kept a hand on the pommel instead, to keep from touching her face. Her tears had made a dirty trail down her dust–covered cheeks.

  “Let’s tie the horses in the barn after you give Nutcracker a drink. Or is there a Paulson posse chasing you, and you need to keeping running?”

  “Well, I don’t think Ethan would try to find me, but Mrs. Paulson might. She’s probably upset she lost an employee she wouldn’t have to pay, more than having lost me as a daughter in law.”

  “What about your family? Will they be upset you didn’t marry Ethan today?”

  “I think they’re celebrating because I finally came to my senses,” Sarah mused as she led Nutcracker to the water trough. “Mother has never said a word about my engagement to Ethan, but my brothers sure made enough remarks against it.”

  “How did you happen to take Nutcracker out for a ride?” Marcus asked, as he limped along beside her with the horses trailing behind them. “Hilda’s pretty particular of who rides her horse.”

  “Cora followed me to the back of the church after the morning service, and before my walk down the aisle for my wedding ceremony. She whispered Nutcracker was ready to ride if I wanted a way to escape my vows,” Sarah confessed.

  “That doesn’t surprise me with your women friends. You do look out for each other. But what if I had already left, then what would you have done?”

  “Cora also gave me her reticule—with one hundred dollars in it—to travel until I found you.”

  “Okay—we can talk—but it won’t do any good. I’m still leaving.” Marcus could hardly stand looking into her sorrowful blue eyes. “You must be thirsty after your race. How about we get something to drink from the kitchen and sit outside on the porch?” Marcus offered. She might have dodged today’s union to Ethan, but Sarah needed to seriously think of what to do next. Her decisions would affect many lives, besides her own.

  It was strange to sit by themselves on the porch without a soul around. All the Cross C hands, except for the ones out with the cattle herd, had gone to town for Sarah’s wedding, so the place was quiet.

  Marcus wondered how long it would take for Isaac and Cate to arrive, because they could guess Sarah took off to look for him.

  “So what did you plan to do once you got here, Sarah?”

  “Talk you into marrying me.”

  “Running away from your wedding has made you bold, Sarah. What would you have done if I had left?”

  “Adam said you were heading to Fort Wallace, so I’d catch the train at Ellsworth and beat you there.”

  “What about Hilda’s horse? Clothes? Or did your sisters–in–law have all the details planned out ready to implement?”

  “I was told to leave Nutcracker at the Ellsworth livery if I didn’t catch you here. A carpet bag of necessities is inside the door of the Bar E house if I had time to stop for it. On my hot ride over here though, I thought about raiding the housekeeper’s room here to see if I could find a calico dress and straw hat to wear in exchange for this dark, hot gown. Otherwise my skin would be fried before I got to Ellsworth.”

  Marcus took Sarah’s right hand in his, rubbing his thumb across her palm while trying to figure out what to say next. He looked across the prairie landscape he’d grown to love over the past months. Could he offer Sarah a home here in the area, or would it be best to start someplace fresh, away from the family? Would she be happy without children? And why was he even thinking of these questions because he didn’t have much to offer her?

  “Seriously, Sarah, what did you expect to happen when you caught up with me, today or later in Fort Wallace?”

  “A talk about our future together.” She looked down at their hands, then looked up at him. “When it was time to start the wedding ceremony, I…couldn’t walk down the aisle, so Adam took me outside to give me some brotherly advice.

  “We talked about my choices—going through with the ceremony—or going after you. But when Adam said, this is for the rest of your life, Sis. Do what’s best for you. I knew I would be miserable living with the Paulsons, and I wasn’t going to do that for the rest of my life. I told Adam to go back inside as I needed a breath of fresh air before continuing—but instead, I untied Nutcracker and took off to find you.”

  “Sarah… I can’t give you a family like you want and deserve.”

  “We already have a ‘family’, Marcus. And when we marry we’ll be an aunt and uncle to my nieces and nephews. I’m sure my sisters–in–law would love for us to take care of their children now and then. We’ve all had a hand in raising Darcie’s boy, Tate, when the toddler was living with Millie and Adam, and I’m sure it will continue when our family increases in size.”

  “That’s not the same as having your own family. You’ll come to resent me over time.”

  Sarah wrapped her arms around her middle and looked out over the peaceful scenery. Marcus knew she was thinking up more arguments in favor of them marrying, rather than conceding to his refusal. But his reservations were more than not being able to have children. His years at Fort Wallace had left him with nightmares of mothers and children—both native and white—dying because he couldn’t save them from the crossfire during military skirmishes. Marcus was scared he couldn’t protect his own family in a crisis situation.

  “I wouldn’t mind if we didn’t have any children for a few years anyway. I’d love for us to be a couple, free to travel. I’d like to go back East to meet your family and see that part of the United States.

  “When and if we want a family, we could always adopt children to give them a chance to have a normal family life. There will always be children who need homes. If not here, then in orphanages in larger cities.”

  When he didn’t answer, Sarah went on. “And I say children, not a child, because having siblings is a blessing. You grew up as a single child, but I can’t imagine life without
my brothers. And maybe we could keep a group of siblings together if we adopted them all at once. Otherwise the babies get separated from the last of their family connection.”

  “And how and where would we raise this family?” Marcus asked to pull Sarah from her unrealistic thoughts. “I don’t have a job, nor a home. I’ve lived in forts since leaving West Point. I have no other skills other than ordering soldiers to do their job.”

  “So you start over and do something else. I’d like to live near family, and I think you would, too. Surely you can do something between here and Ellsworth, and if not, we will go elsewhere. A bank clerk, a school teacher…work for the railroad, and we can rent a house wherever you find work.”

  “But I’m not trained for any of those jobs, and my leg keeps me from doing manual labor…”

  “Marcus, just open your eyes and heart to ideas. We’d have a good marriage, be with our families, and possibly give an orphan a set of parents.”

  Sarah stopped talking and scanned the yard when she heard a little girl’s cry.

  Chapter 3

  Six–year–old Maggie Sullivan stood on the porch of the foreman’s cabin, sobbing her little heart out. Marcus assumed Maggie and her four–year–old brother, Marty had a fight, which usually turned from a crying spell into a screaming match until their mother, Margaret, settled the dispute.

  Rusty Tucker, the Cross C foreman was single, so he volunteered to move into the bunk house when Margaret Sullivan and her children needed a place to live for a while. Her husband, Martin, died in an accident on the ranch two months ago, leaving Margaret alone with three children, plus another babe due in another month or so. The Sullivans had been living in a little rented cabin two miles south of the ranch. Their home was in a desolate area with no road going past it, so Isaac moved the family to the Cross C, and the ranch hands pitched in to watch over the children. Maggie and Marty, along with their two–year–old sister Maisie, played in the ranch yard and came over to the ranch house on occasion, so Marcus knew them well. Marty often shadowed Marcus around the ranch and he’d taken the children horseback riding. All three of the children loved Marcus reading and teaching them to learn letters and numbers.

  As soon as Maggie saw Marcus, she was running barefoot across the yard, sobbing about something.

  “Momma’s hurt!” the child cried while reaching her bloodied hands up to Marcus. Flashbacks hit Marcus, causing him to put his hands in the air out of her reach and step back until he hit the back wall of the porch.

  “Momma fell and hit her head on the stove!” the little girl sobbed in panic.

  Marcus squeezed his eyes tight, telling himself the woman wasn’t hurt in an ambush. She just skinned her forehead. The thin skin there has a tendency to bleed. That’s why Maggie had blood on her hands…not because an arrow was sticking in her momma’s head or she’d been blasted in her stomach at short range with a revolver.

  “Help her!” the child pleaded.

  He took another gulp of air and opened his eyes to look at Maggie’s face, avoiding looking down at her hands. “Okay, Maggie, let’s look in on your momma. I’m sure she’s fine.” Marcus took another big breath, hoping to calm both of them with his words.

  Sarah instinctively dropped down to the girl’s eye level, while he started to hyperventilate.

  “What happened, Maggie?” Sarah took hold of the girl’s hands, not minding getting blood on her own fingers.

  “Momma’s head is bleeding and she won’t wake up,” the child sobbed between words.

  “She’ll be all right, Honey. We’ll take care of her,” Sarah calmly promised, as she stood and took the girl’s hand.”

  Marcus stood frozen until Sarah turned and loudly called, “Marcus! Snap out of it! Margaret is going to be fine, but we need to help her now.”

  ***

  Sarah downplayed Margaret’s situation to calm down Maggie and Marcus, but she panicked herself when she walked into the foreman’s cabin and saw Margaret. Not only was the woman out cold on the floor, there was a lot of blood on her head, hands and her huge pregnant belly. Oh dear God! Is she dead!?

  “Sarah, why won’t Momma wake up?” Sarah pulled herself together when she realized that, besides Maggie, Marty and Maisie had come to stand by her, too. Marcus hadn’t stepped into the cabin, so Sarah assumed he stayed on the porch.

  Sarah calmed her panic when she saw the woman’s chest moving. “Ah, she’s just sleeping at the moment. Maggie, let’s get your hands washed and then you can go play on the swing the ranch hands made for you. Okay? Then I’ll wash your momma’s forehead and hands and she’ll be all right.” There were few trees around the ranch, except for a large cottonwood tree. Two ropes had been thrown around a horizontal limb and tied securely to keep them from coming down. Two holes had been bored on either side of a little board so the ropes could be threaded through and knotted. The little swing was close to the ground so the children could climb on by themselves and it was a delightful pastime for them.

  Sarah’s eyes swept the room, spying where the family washed up. Their tin basin, towel and a little bar of soap sat on the side table, along with a pail of water with a dipper. A little step stool was under the side table so the children could reach it.

  “Marty and Maisie, you go outside and stand with Marcus, please. Maggie, step up here and put your hands over the basin. I’ll pour a little water on them and you scrub them clean. Momma wants to see clean hands when she wakes up.”

  Sarah helped the girl quickly scrub and dry her hands. She had to get the children out of the house because Sarah knew their mother was in desperate need of help.

  “Okay out you go to play. Marcus,” Sarah called out to where he as standing outside with his back to the door, “please come back in here in five minutes.”

  She quietly shut the door and then knelt at Margaret’s head.

  “Margaret? Margaret! Please open your eyes and look at me.”

  Sarah quickly stood to wet the towel and then got down beside the woman again. She gently touched Margaret’s forehead to clean it and find the source of the blood. Besides the cut, which looked like it needed a few stitches to heal, Margaret had a huge lump on the side of her head.

  The woman lay with her head near the stove, and her feet perpendicular, so Margaret must have rolled onto her back after falling sideways and hitting her head against the stove. Was she just clumsy, or…Sarah spied a piece of bread on the floor underneath the table. There was a streak of something on the floor. Sarah wiped a finger across it then rubbed the slick substance between her thumb and forefinger. Oh goodness, did Margaret slip on a piece of buttered bread that had been dropped upside down on the floor!?

  “Uh. Oh…”

  “Margaret! Thank goodness you’re awake! What happened?”

  “Slipped. Now baby’s coming…”

  “Oh, dear…do you feel like you’ve broken anything?”

  “No, just got knocked out.”

  “Okay, don’t worry then. We’ll get you into bed.”

  Sarah stumbled on her dress while rising from the floor. She didn’t need to be wearing a full gown and a bunch of petticoats at a time like this. She opened the other door in the living space, knowing it was the bedroom in this small house. A trundle bed was pulled out from under the big bed, so Sarah shoved it back underneath with her foot. The children wouldn’t be taking a nap in here anytime soon.

  She pulled off the top quilt and tossed it in the corner, knowing Margaret wouldn’t want blood on her wedding quilt. She needed more bedding, other than the sheets on the bed though. Sarah yanked open the trunk at the foot of the bed hoping to find sheets and towels, but stopped when she realized Martin’s clothing lay carefully folded on top. Gracious, the poor woman was going through all this without her husband! Digging beneath the clothing didn’t offer more than a few towels, and she didn’t have time to go through everything in the house while Margaret still lay on the floor in the other room.

  Sarah laid two pairs
of Martin’s pants across the bed and laid a towel on top of them. They would have to do for now.

  Margaret grunted and Sarah hurried to return to her side. The wet, cold cloth on her head seemed to rouse Margaret, because her eyes were now open and focused.

  “Are you strong enough to get off the floor with my help?”

  “Don’t know, but I’d rather not deliver here on the floor…but I feel the head coming…”

  Margaret groaned and pushed as a contraction rippled through her body.

  “Marcus Brenner is outside with your children. He can help me get you into bed.” Sarah was already opening the door by the time she finished her words.

  He was standing on the porch watching the children play on the swing, but Marcus turned as soon as he heard the door open. “She’s awake, but about to deliver her baby. You’ll need to help me get her into bed.” She held her hand up before opening the door again. “I’ve cleaned her head the best I could to move her, and there is some blood on her apron where she rubbed her tummy.” Sarah didn’t want Marcus on the floor next, so she thought she’d better warn him.

  He turned pale but seemed in control of his emotions when he walked in to lean over the prone woman, who was groaning in pain. “Hello Margaret,” he said softly. “Good to see you’re awake now.”

  “And I’m so glad you’re here, but I wish you were Martin instead,” Margaret’s face crumpled as tears ran down her face.

  “I so wish it, too,” Marcus replied gently in sympathy.

  He awkwardly tried to squat down behind Margaret, but his leg almost gave out before he returned upright. Sarah stood beside him, and they each put their hands under one of Margaret’s arms and lifted her to her feet. She was actually light and thin from the last two months’ stress, but bulky due to her enormous stomach. Without much difficulty, they walked her the few steps between the rooms and helped her into bed.