* * *
The peachy-pink fingers of dawn pulled the sun up over the eastern horizon as Sarah cracked opened her eyes. She rubbed her sore neck and gazed about the room.
Robert still slept in his chair, looking remarkably like his brother, only without the etched pain.
She noticed his blanket before realizing that she too was covered. He must have put a quilt over her and taken one for himself while she dozed.
She stretched and stood. Wrapping the coverlet about her, Sarah walked over to stir the fire and start the water for tea. That done, she tiptoed outside, breathing in the crisp morning air.
This was her favorite time of day. Most days she reveled in the newness. Today her heart was sore.
Robert came out and joined her.
She suddenly wished she’d taken time to rebraid her hair. Loose as it was, it must be as wild as a lion’s mane. “What say we let him get all the sleep he can? I’ll fix us something to eat.” She needed to do something, anything.
“Aye.” He stared at the horizon.
She went back inside, poured them each a cup of tea, bringing his to him. “The brochan will be ready in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” She retraced her steps.
After making her hair more presentable, she prepared the porridge. Then she folded the borrowed blankets and put them away while it cooked.
Kathleen always kept a tidy home.
When the porridge was ready, she called to Robert but received no answer. The only sign he had been there was the empty cup resting on the sill.
“Now how am I to keep a watch on Joseph here and still go to take care of Wee Joseph?” She brought in the cup.
Her hope that Robert would stay with his brother while she went for the baby was postponed for the time being. She wasn’t too concerned, though. What with his grandmother and Josephine, not to mention his three new aunts—Lucy, Mary Frances, and Sarah Beth—that little one would receive a lot of attention.
The sound of blankets being thrashed brought her to see to her ward. Joseph sat on the edge of the bed, elbows posted on knees, his hands clutching his head.
She averted her eyes from those long legs.
“Morning, Joseph.” That was too happy. Don’t sound so happy.
He minutely turned his head to the side, peering at her from the corner of his eye. “What are you doing here?”
She winced. “I’m here to help.”
“Not s’loud, woman. Where’re my pants?” He waved off her explanation. “Just point.”
Obediently, she indicated where Robert had tossed them, then left the room.
A minute later Joseph stood in the doorway, needing the support of the doorpost.
“Sit and I’ll dip ye up some brochan.” She held up a ladleful.
One look, however, and he retreated to the bedroom.
She could hear the bucket being used. Perhaps porridge hadn’t been the best idea.
Soon he staggered back, this time making it as far as the front door. He stood on the threshold, leaning against the post.
She brought him a cuppa.
He took the tea, tried a sip or two. “Thanks.”
She waved her hand. “Tis nothing.” The awkward silence became unbearable as she rocked back and forth onto her toes. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” So it was a cowardly retreat. After last night, what might he be thinking?
The porridge pot bubbled, so she stirred and moved it away from the flame before gathering up the things to be washed. All the while she kept an ear out for Joseph.
However, after an extended quiet, she peered around the door.
She was now alone at the cottage. Oh, that man. Sarah plopped in the rocker. Just like his brother. There one minute and gone the next. Not even a thank you for sleeping in a chair all night or keeping watch. Nothing. Why did those Crockett men have to always be going somewhere?
She rocked harder. She should have just let the ungrateful oaf suffer. Except, God help her, it hurt to see someone suffer. Especially when she cared for that someone very much.
A tear dripped off the end of her nose as she pulled the rocker to a halt. She swiped it away. She would not cry. It had been foolish to think she might ease the man’s pain.
However, there was Wee Joseph to think about. No matter what, she wouldn’t—couldn’t—go back on her promise to his mother.
God, what should I do?
Sarah listened but heard no answer. Pulling her shattered pride and feelings together, she rose. Who knew better how to handle Joseph than his mother? She would speak to Mistress Crockett.
For Wee Joseph’s sake.
Chapter Two
Louise heard the carriage. It was a bit premature in the day to be receiving. After all that the family had been through, it was poor taste to be arriving at this early hour. She peeked between the lace curtains of the nursery window, and recognized Sarah’s parents.
Josephine would show Thomas and Margaret Stewart to the parlor.
Louise frowned and hurried downstairs. They wouldn’t be here without reason.
The Stewarts and Crocketts had been neighbors for more than twenty years. As the children grew, it was a sure thing that if you could not find one of your own, it was because he or she enjoyed the company of the other family.
All this being said, it was still out of the ordinary.
“Meg, Thomas, is something amiss?” Louise hurried into the room, straight to her friends. “Please sit, will you not?” She indicated the brocade sofa, taking a chair for herself.
“Nothing is wrong…” Thomas began.
“At least we’re not believing so.” Meg’s glance darted toward the stairs. “We’ve come to retrieve Sarah. Perhaps she stayed last night? Is she up yet?”
“I am sorry, but Sarah did not spend the night here.” Upon seeing the worried expressions of her friends, she paused. “At least, I do not believe so. It is possible she is in with one of the girls. Let me check. Excusez-moi.” She left, closing the parlor door behind her.
Halfway up the steps, she heard her name.
“Mistress Crockett, might I speak with ye?”
Louise discovered the missing girl at the foot of the stairs.
“Sarah. I am so glad to find you. Your parents are in the parlor. They are worried for you.”
“I dinnae want them to worry. I just need to speak with ye, if ye have the time.”
“For you, sweet girl, oui, I have time. But first, we must let them know you are safe.” She brought Sarah back into the parlor.
Meg rushed to her daughter. Thomas put his arms around them both, guiding them toward the front door. “We’re sorry to have inconvenienced ye, Louise,” he said over his shoulder. “We’ll be going now, and we thank ye.”
“No, Da.” Sarah pulled to a stop. “I need to speak with the Mistress. Tis important.”
Thomas moved closer to whisper in his youngest daughter’s ear, though Louise could still hear. “We’ve some important matters to discuss, Sarah. I think you’d best be coming along.” He took hold of her elbow and again tried to steer her to the door.
Sarah could be quite stubborn, a trait come by honestly from her father.
“Pardonnez-moi, but I believe I hear the baby. Would you like to speak here in the parlor while I see to him?” The baby made a lovely excuse.
Meg smiled in return, sitting back on the sofa. “Aye, thank ye, Louise.”
Louise winked at Meg and headed for the stairs.
* * *
Mama patted the cushion next to her.
Sarah scrutinized her father and then her mother. Finally, she sat.
Before Sarah could stop her, Mama took hold of her hand. “We know this has been a difficult time for ye, daughter. Ye and Kathleen were as close as sisters. But we’re worried. We had a visitor last night and then, when ye didn’t come home, we want to get to the bottom of this.” Mama’s face lacked her usual smile.
“What visitor?”
Da’s finger shook in the air.
“Never ye mind that. Where were ye last night, Sarah?”
She should have known her father would be upset. But she had not done anything wrong, so she told the truth.
“I was standing watch over Joseph.”
“Alone?” Mama gasped.
“No, Robert was with me.”
“You spent the night alone with two men?” Now Da’s voice held a dangerous growl.
“Aye, one was heartsick and drunk stupid. The other worried sick over his brother. Neither had eyes for me, I can tell ye that much. Twas Joseph and Robert for goodness sake.” Her blood temperature dangerously rose.
“And what made ye think that any daughter of mine would be allowed to be passing the night with two grown men, no matter what condition they were in?”
“I was keeping a promise.”
“What promise?” Her parents spoke simultaneously, Da’s voice gruff, but her Mama’s tone gentle.
“I made a promise to Kathleen, God rest her soul, a week ago. She asked me to care for Joseph and the babe should anything happen to her.” Sarah eyed her skirt, smoothing the wrinkles and objections away. “I agreed to it thinking she was nervous about the baby coming so soon. But, now, I’ve made it and I must keep it.”
Her parents glanced at each other.
She knew she pushed. But she must keep it, whatever it took.
“I’m sure Kathleen did not foresee ye sleeping in her home in order to keep that promise.” Da paused, shoving his hand through his gray hair, a color he swore was Sarah’s doing. It was a sure sign he’d made his decision. “Ye will be coming home each night before dark, after doing what it is you need to be doing to keep yer word. Are we clear on that?”
“Aye, Da.” Sarah focused on the floor. Obedience came much easier, having won the argument.
“And ye will keep Bridget with you.”
Her head snapped up. The housekeeper’s daughter playing her shadow? “Da.”
“And, no daughter o’ mine will be traipsin’ through the likes of the Stray Dog for all the neighbors to see.”
“How did you…Aye, Da.” Sometimes it was better to just accept one’s victories and let sleeping stray dogs lie. She bit her lip to keep back the smile. Besides, it wouldn’t be that difficult to get rid of Bridget should she get in the way.
“Now that all this is settled, let’s be going home before we end up wearin’ out Louise’s hospitality.”
“Da, I told ye, I need to be speaking with the mistress. I canna be going now.”
Da wavered, his expression softening.
She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He really was a dear when he wanted to be.
“Then come soon. And, remember, ye’ll be spendin’ tonight and each night at home. I’ll have no more gossip out there about me daughter.”
“Aye, Da.” Sarah hugged them both. Closing the door after them, she leaned against the post to think.
She would never want Kathleen’s memory besmirched, nor her parents or Joseph dishonored by mean-spirited gossip. Still, she couldn’t go back on her word. With a sigh of resignation, Sarah headed back into the parlor.
Mistress Crockett came down the stairs. “Is everything now agreeable, ma petite?”
Sarah nodded.
“And you wanted to speak with me?”
“Aye, if ye have the time.” She hoped Joseph’s mother could read the growing urgency in her eyes. If she didn’t get this talked out soon, it might explode inside her.
“Let us sit in here and you can speak to me.” Mistress Crockett motioned toward the settee. “One thing, though…”
“Aye, Mistress?” What now?
“There will be no more of the ‘mistress’ talk. You are a grown woman. We have known each other too long, and have been too close, for you to address me as ‘mistress.’ You may call me Louise.”
“Och, but that wouldn’t be fitting. I don’t think I could bring myself to do that.”
“Well, then, why not Tanté Louise. It would be nice to have someone refer to me as tanté. I cannot think of anyone I would rather hear call me that than you, Sarah. Are we agreed?” The mistress took Sarah’s hand and gave a gentle squeeze.
“Aye, Mist…I mean Tanté Louise.” Sarah took a deep breath, then plunged ahead. “Tanté, I’ve been thinking about my promise to Kathleen. I mean to keep it, only the problem is I’m not sure how. I hadn’t thought taking care of a friend would cause so much trouble. Of course, if I had thought about it instead of just doing it, I might have realized the implications, and thought of another plan.” She gave a rueful smile. “I don’t want to be casting aspersions on those I love, or Joseph, or Kathleen’s memory, but I will keep this promise.” She paused and searched the Mistress’s face. “So, how do I do that, Tanté Louise? What should I do?”
“Sarah, ma petite, I do not know how to answer. Shall we pray about this?”
“Right now?”
“Can you think of a better time? Here, let me take your hands.”
She let Tanté Louise take her hand and listened.
“Dear Father, thank You for the loving and loyal heart of this sweet child. I pray that You would fill her with Your wisdom and discernment to guide and direct her along the path You have for her. May Your love pour through her generous heart and onto those she serves so selflessly. Lord, she is unsure of what You would have her to do to keep her promise. We ask that You show us where to start and be her guide as she continues her course. And, Lord, may she be blessed as she blesses those around her. Help her to do as You would do. In Jesus’s Holy Name we pray, amen.”
Sarah echoed the amen. She sat enveloped in the quiet. The person Tanté Louise described in her prayer seemed nothing like anyone Sarah knew. Given her feelings for Joseph, it would be hard to say she was working from a purely generous position.
As Tanté Louise continued to sit with closed eyes, Sarah began to worry. What was on her mind? Would she ask about Joseph? Would Sarah then have to tell her about the whiskey, and how she and Robert had found him at the Stray Dog?
When she finally raised her head, Tanté Louise smiled and patted Sarah’s hand. “Dear heart, please know we would love for you to spend time with our wee one. You may come and rock him and play with him here at the house anytime until Joseph is ready to bring him home. And as for Joseph—”
Sarah knew what was coming. She wasn’t needed. Joseph didn’t need anything but his family’s help. Her muscles tensed for the blow.
“If you make sure he eats and has clean clothes, you will be doing an enormous service. You can send laundry here to the house. I will see that it gets done with the rest of the clothes of the family. You may need to visit our larder, too, as I am sure food will start running low before Joseph thinks a thing about it.”
Tanté Louise sighed. “I wish I knew how I could get him to take his meals here with us, but I know him. He will want his privacy. The most help you can be to my son is to listen. He is a tough one to get to talk, that one, but you have been a friend for as long as any of us can remember.” She gave Sarah’s hand a little squeeze. “If he will talk with anyone, it will be with you. Just listen. That will be better than giving advice and will help the most.”
The ideas brought hope, and a starting place. “Thank you, Tanté, thank you. I’m thinking we have a plan, now.”
“Bon. I noticed Wee Joseph waking when I was upstairs. Would you like to hold him?”
“Oh, aye. That I would.” She wrapped her arms around the older woman and gave her a peck on the cheek. The mistress, rather Tanté Louise straightened her back, but then a smile lit her face as she patted Sarah’s arm.
“Let us go see that sweet grandson of mine.” Tanté Louise led the way up the stairs.
Walking behind her, Sarah could hear the softly whispered prayer, “Lord, let the words of my mouth be the words of Your heart.”
* * *
Robert felt his brother’s presence before he heard or saw anything. There was something about Joseph that you
could feel his presence, not that he was loud. If anything he was staid. But one knew when he was there.
Joseph stood at the barn’s entrance.
“I already looked in on the sheep, so I thought I’d see if there was anything else I could do.” Robert returned to the task at hand. An old harness had captured his attention. He’d soon have it repaired.
“Thanks.” Short and curt.
“If you’d rather I wasn’t here…” The hangover most likely limited Joseph’s words, but if he wanted to be alone, Robert could give his brother some room.
“No, stay. I’m not much in the way of talking. But you can stay.” Joseph stood in the doorway, staring into space.
“I’m surprised you’re up already.” Robert rehung the harness. “I was sure the whiskey had you out until noon.”
“The sleep was fine. The dreams I could have done without.”
“Aye.” Robert knew better than to say he understood. He didn’t. He knew he didn’t, and God willing, he never would. “How is the wee one this morning?”
“I haven’t been over to the house. I probably should. I just don’t know if I can.”
So low were the words, Robert wondered if he’d really heard.
* * *
Joseph blindly reached out for anything that might busy his hands. His confession was barely more than a thought. But once spoken aloud, he wished the floor would open up and swallow him. He was a father now, the only parent his son had. It was his duty to go to see him.
That’s what haunted him. It was all he felt for the baby right now. Duty. If he tried to feel more, would he hate the little life that had cost his wife hers? Would he love him too much, and then lose him like he had Kathleen? He kicked at the straw. With very little effort he could go mad and tear the place apart. An acid more powerful that any sense of duty boiled and bubbled within him, ready to pour out on those around. If he didn’t keep it locked down.
More for Kathleen’s sake than anything else, he made himself leave Robert and the barn and begin walking to his parents’ home. He steeled himself to handle the onslaught of pity he knew awaited. There would be those with advice and those with questions. But the worst would be the eyes full of pity.
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 30
