Married by Midnight Page 6

  “I should probably go to the bank and cash these notes.”

  “You plannin’ on stickin’ around?”

  Ian looked at Dell and nodded. “I’d like to.”

  “Good. We could use the help. Pay’s lousy, but the vittles are good. We don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to keep going before Sarah is forced to sell the farm.”

  “Sell the farm?”

  “Hard thing for a woman to run a farm all by herself.”

  Ian thought about that for a moment. “I guess so. I’ll head to town and be back as soon as I can.”

  “We’ll start you out easy,” Dell laughed.

  Ian asked direction to town from Dusty and Jesse. They offered him a horse, but Ian preferred to walk. He was part of the way down the hill towards town when he spied a man standing on the side of the road.

  “Ian, my lad. How are you today?” the man said moving towards Ian.

  “Do I know you?” Ian held the tin tighter to his chest. He didn’t want anyone stealing his money.

  “I’m not going to steal it, boy. I just wanted to see how you were recovering since you hit your head.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “You don’t remember me from the train?” Ian shook his head. “Fluff and nonsense. I didn’t think you were hit that hard. That is bothersome.”

  Ian scooted around the man and continued down towards town.

  “Wait!” the man called. “You really don’t remember anything?”

  “No, I honestly don’t.”

  “Well, let me introduce myself. Mr. Edward Pennyworth at your service. May I walk with you?” he asked pointing towards town with his cane.

  “I guess,” Ian said as he continued walking.

  “Are you doing some shopping in town?”

  “No. Just running an errand.”

  “If you get a chance you should go by the bakery. Truly delightful. A young couple recently purchased it. They make the best cakes.”

  “I’ll see if I can find it.”

  “The mercantile is down there too.”

  “What would I need from the mercantile?”

  Mr. Pennyworth raised his shoulders. “I don’t know. Perhaps a new notebook or some tea?”

  “Tea?”

  “It is a thought. How is Miss Sarah doing?”

  “Sarah? I guess she’s fine.”

  “Lovely young woman. Will make someone a fine wife.”

  Wife? It didn’t surprise him, but the thought of her being married to someone else bothered him immensely. He shouldn’t even be having thoughts like that. The woman simply cared for him while he was recovering. There was nothing else.

  He had really enjoyed their evenings reading together. Maybe he only imagined the look in her eyes when she walked into the room last night.

  He turned to ask Mr. Pennyworth a question, but the man had disappeared. Ian turned in circles looking at the landscape trying to find where the man disappeared to. Dismissing the thought, he turned back around and headed to town.

  His business at the bank took less time than expected. The banker, a Mr. Mathews, was helpful in opening an account for Ian. He told Ian that he would contact the appropriate banks and the money should be in Ian’s account within a week.

  Ian could tell Mr. Mathews was surprised when Ian told him where he was staying, but he didn’t say anything. He simply said the Abrahams were good people.

  Ian was hearing that a lot. That the family was respected in the community. They were very charitable to others, even being marked as a safe place for weary travelers.

  As Ian walked through town, Creede reminded him of a smaller version of New York. There were industrial buildings, offices, shops and residences all in short distance of each other. New York. That is where he originally was from.

  Ian continued down the cobblestone road, past several shops until he found the mercantile. He really didn’t need anything, but he remembered Sarah saying that she had used the last bit of tea in her tin.

  The sound of a bell was heard as he entered the store. There were displays of canned goods, ribbons, bolts of fabric, flour barrels, sugar barrels and more scattered throughout the store.

  “May I help you?” the man behind the counter asked.

  “Yes, sir. I was looking for some tea.”

  The man peered over his glasses. “What kind of tea?”

  There was more than one kind? “I’m not really sure.”

  “Well I know what most people in town purchase on a regular basis. Is it for someone in town?”

  “I’m buying it for Sarah Abrahams.”

  “Sarah hasn’t been into town for a while.” The shopkeeper went to one of the shelves behind the counter and pulled down a tin. “But I can understand since her parents died.”

  “And her sister.”

  “What? Oh yes, her sister too. Lacey was the most beautiful young lady. Had her choice of all the beaus.” He placed the tin on the counter. “Unfortunately, she took all the attention away from her sister.”

  “I don’t know why that would be.”

  “Well, Sarah isn’t exactly the most handsome of figures. She’s pretty enough, don’t get me wrong. But nothing compared to Lacey.”

  “I think Sarah is beautiful. In fact, she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”

  The man gave Ian a quick smile. “Good. Good.” He chuckled to himself. “I’m extremely glad to hear that.” Removing the top of the tin he asked, “How much do you want?”

  “How much is the whole tin?”

  “You want two pounds? Tea is very expensive. Comes all the way from China. Tea is sixty cents a pound.”

  Ian swallowed. He nodded at the shopkeeper. “I’ll take that tin.” As the shop keep wrapped his purchase, Ian looked around. “And a pound of sugar.” Ian didn’t know if Sarah like sugar in her tea. “Do you know where the bakery is? I was told to visit the bakery while I was here.”

  “Just down the road. Make a left then a right and it’s up at the top of the hill. That will be a dollar twenty-five.”

  Ian put exact change on the counter and picked up his package. “Thank you very much,” he said as he left the store.

  Left then right.

  Ian went to the end of the block and looked around. He turned left, which brought him in front of a tailor’s shop. There were several jackets in the window. Ian felt a panic growing in his belly.

  He looked inside the window and there was an older man with gray hair, measuring a man standing on a stool. Images of working in a clothing factory flooded his mind.

  Most of the images were fine, but there were a few that felt almost ... sinister. Ian left the window and hurried up the road. He spied the sign for the bakery and made haste.

  When he entered the shop, he took several deep breaths, praying for the panic to leave.

  “May I help you?” a young lady asked coming from behind a curtain. She wore an apron, but it didn’t appear to do much to save her clothing from the flour.

  Ian opened his eyes and took another deep breath. The scent of sugar and butter overpowered him, and he immediately felt calmer.

  “I was told you have the best cakes in town.”

  The woman laughed. “Well, if the amount of business says anything, then I would have to agree. Are you looking for a cake?” She moved to the front of a display case.

  Ian looked and he could see round cakes, square cakes and cookies laid out on lace doilies. “What kind of cake is that?” he asked, pointing to one that looked like a loaf of bread.

  “That is a pound cake. A pound of butter, sugar, eggs and flour. It is my husband’s favorite.”

  Images of Ian pressing his nose against a bakery in New York flashed through his mind. He and his best friend would race to the shop after work and look at the baked goods on display. Ian never had one of those cakes. Today, though, he would splurge.”

  “Would you like to try a piece?”

  Ian nodded. The woman pul
led out a plate where pieces of cake were cut up in small bite size pieces. He picked up a square of cake and placed it on his tongue. He closed his eyes as the buttery sweetness exploded in his mouth.

  “That is so good,” Ian said. “May I have another?” The lady nodded and Ian took another piece of cake. “How much are they?”

  “They are fifty-cents each.”

  “I’ll take two.” He could give one to Sarah and keep the other one to share with the men in the bunk house.

  “Let me get these wrapped up for you.”

  Ian watched as she put the cakes in two boxes and tied them with ribbon. The bell rang as someone entered the shop.

  “Georgina, you will never believe…”

  Ian froze. He knew that voice. He turned and the man stopped talking and headed straight at him.

  “Ian,” the man whispered and ran to gather him in a hug. The man slapped Ian on the back several times. “I honestly thought I’d never see you again.”

  Ian looked at the man who had been haunting his thoughts. “Charlie. I can’t believe it is you.”

  Chapter 7

  Sarah was in the kitchen cutting a chicken for dinner when Ian rushed in.

  “Sarah! You will never believe what just happened?” Ian rushed into the kitchen and placed several packages on the table.

  “I probably won’t.” She rinsed her hands in a bucket of water and turned to look at him.

  “I remember everything.”

  “What?”

  “I went to town today, to the bank. And then I stopped at the mercantile, which led me to the bakery. That in turn led me to my best friend, who I didn’t even know was living here.”

  “You saw your best friend?”

  Ian nodded. “It took a few minutes, but then everything came back to me. I remember living in New York. I worked for a garment factory. Charlie and I got into some trouble and I had to leave to protect my parents. Which is how I ended up jumping trains. Which is how I ended up meeting you.”

  He picked Sarah up and swung her around. Sarah laughed and placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

  “I am so happy for you, Ian. I really am.” She didn’t want to tell him that she dreaded the thought that now since he remembered everything there was no reason for him to stay.

  “I think we should celebrate!”

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  Ian pulled out the tin of tea. “I think this would be better.”

  Sarah’s eyes went wide. “Oh my. That is a large tin.”

  “I know you had used the last of your tea. So, I thought this would last you quite a while.”

  Saran took the tin and wrapped her arms around Ian, embracing him. “Thank you so much. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” She felt silly crying over a tin of tea, but she was so overcome with emotion. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and then went to put the kettle on.

  “That’s not all,” he said, lifting one of the boxes with a string. “I brought us a cake as well. Do you have a plate?”

  Sarah pointed to the cupboard. Ian took out three plates, a knife and two forks. He set the cake and the knife on one, and forks on the other.

  Sarah finished preparing the chicken. She put the cut-up pieces in a bowl of buttermilk and set a towel over them while the pieces soaked. By the time she washed her hands, the kettle was piping hot.

  She put a teaspoon of tea leaves in her favorite kettle and poured the boiling water over the leaves, giving the pot a little swirl. She placed the pot on the table next to the cake and then fetched two cups.

  Ian sliced two pieces of cake and slid one on the plate in front of her. Sarah had never tasted anything like it. Pound cake, Ian called it. She sipped her tea and enjoyed her cake while Ian filled her in on all the memories he remembered.

  She watched his face light up as he talked about his life in New York and the people he met while train jumping. Sarah just enjoyed listening to him.

  She wished she could freeze the moment and sear it into her memory. For a moment, life was perfect.

  That perfect moment was short lived. After a delicious dinner of fried chicken and cornbread, with pound cake for dessert, the men went back to the barn, leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts.

  Dusty and Jesse mentioned that they had found work at the Snyder ranch and would be leaving at the end of the week.

  Sarah wanted to cry. There was no way she could pay everyone... or anyone. She understood and promised that as soon as she found some money, she would send their wages along.

  Everyone was leaving. All the farm hands were going to be gone. Ian would eventually leave. That would leave her and Dell alone in the house.

  Sarah warmed up the tea that was left in the pot and carried a cup into her father's office. It was becoming her place of refuge. She sat behind the large oak desk and twirled on his chair while sipping her tea.

  “Miss?”

  Sarah looked up. Dell was at the door. “Come in, Dell.”

  “I just wanted to know if you found a solution to those papers Mr. Mathews brought by.”

  Sarah motioned for him to sit. “Not yet. Why do you ask?”

  Dell rubbed his chest. Perhaps he had indigestion from dinner. “Maybe selling the farm is the right thing. You can take the money and get a new house. Find a husband and settle down.”

  “If I could find a husband, none of this would be happening.”

  “Miss Sarah, you can't stay here forever hiding away.”

  “What am I hiding from?” She tried to disguise the annoyance in her voice but couldn't.

  “Memories. Feeling guilty that you didn't die with your parents.”

  “I don't feel guilty,” she responded a bit too sharply.

  “I've known you since you were a little girl. You were always outgoing and adventurous. You were ready to take on the world, right any wrong. That is why so many people loved you. You have a good heart, Sarah.”

  “Where is this going, Dell? I need to clean out the desk.”

  “When my wife died, I didn't want to live. In fact, I went out of my way to take any dangerous job I could. When those didn't kill me, I decided to kill myself. Slowly. I had nearly drunk myself to death when your father rescued me.”

  “I remember.”

  “I owe your father to make sure you don't go down the same path.” Dell rubbed his chest harder.

  Sarah put her cup down on the desk. “Dell, I promise that I am not going to drown my sorrow at the bottom of a bottle.”

  “No. But there are other ways to do it.”

  “Like how?”

  “You are taking care of everyone but yourself. Look at the way you dress. You wear brown or black.”

  “I'm in mourning.”

  “Your hair is wound tighter than a cat with a firecracker on his tail.”

  “It keeps it out of my way.”

  “You spend hours in this room. Surrounded by the belongings of a dead man.”

  “Dell, I think of you as an uncle, but you are dangerously close to me losing my temper.”

  “And being on the edge of anger, too. Sarah, honey, I know you are grieving. You need to grieve, not keep it inside. I've not seen you really cry since your family died.”

  “I have too much to do. I don't have time to grieve.” She thought about it for a moment. “Besides, I have cried.”

  “No, you've not. You have had some crying moments, but you haven't had the big cry. You won't be able to heal until that happens.”

  “I don't have time to grieve. I have a farm to run.”

  “Sarah, you aren't running the farm. Dusty and Jesse are staying around to help because they love it here.”

  “No.” Sarah lifted her finger at him. “They are staying until their next job begins. They get two hot meals a day here, plus lodging. At this point they might as well be train jumpers.”

  “Sarah --”

  “I don't know why my parents even painted those silly signs on the
side of the barn. It is like a beacon to every person looking for a handout. Come to the Abrahams farm. There is a kind lady there. She'll feed you and give you a place to stay. Nothing expected in return.” Sarah could hear the venom in her voice and it even surprised her, but she couldn't stop. “I am running out of supplies. I don't have any way to buy any more right now. I don't even know how I'll feed myself in a few weeks.”

  “Sarah, consider selling the farm.”

  “No!” She smacked her hand on the table. “My family is buried out back. I won't leave them.”

  “Staying isn't going to bring them back.”

  “Snyder offered a fair price for the farm. Maybe you should consider talking to him.”

  “We are done here.” Sarah pulled out a drawer and started rummaging through it. She put items in a pile for the rubbish heap and those that she wanted to keep. Unfortunately, she wanted to keep everything.

  She heard Dell stand. She didn't want to look at him as he left. Her ears burned from shame. Her mother would scold her for the way she just talked to Dell.

  She heard his boots scrape against the floorboards.

  When she glanced up, he was leaving the room still rubbing his chest. She should have told him to mix some soda in a glass of water for his heartburn.

  She listened to the door slam and soon Dell came into view through the window. He was walking slowly towards the barn.

  Sarah finished her cup of tea and headed back to the kitchen. As she walked down the hall, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

  The woman looking back didn't even look like her. Her skin was dull, and her eyes were lifeless. Dell was right, her hair was twirled way too tight.

  She put her cup down and moved closer to the mirror. She pushed and pulled her cheeks, trying to bring some color back to her face. All she managed to do was make her skin bright red. Sarah sighed. She looked like one of those clowns from when the circus came to Creede.

  She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. No sense trying to choke herself as well. She felt instant relief once that button was undone. She turned her head from side to side, looking at her face in the mirror.

  She wasn’t terrible to look at. In fact, she thought if she pulled her hair out of that terrible bun, it might even soften her features.