Cassandra Austin - Trusting Sarah

“Hush, Amy,” Martha scolded. “The child doesn’t understand money. The food seems to be lasting like we expected, but I’m almost out of thread. I think I’ll try to find Tom a new shirt and use one of the old ones to patch everything else. Seems like all I do is mend. I tried mending as we traveled and almost ran the needle through my finger.”

“I could help with some of it if you’d like. I plan to open a dress shop when I get settled.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll ask Tom if we could pay you a little.”

“If you like to sew,” Amy piped up, “you could mend my dolly.”

“Amy,” Martha scolded. “Your dolly’s fine.”

“Her leg’s loose again, Mama.”

Sarah looked down at the little girl. “I think I could mend your dolly, Amy. Bring it by the wagon as soon as we get back.”

The little girl beamed up at Sarah as she skipped along beside her.

The store was crowded with emigrants, and Allen, who had stared at Sarah all the way up the hill, decided she was safer than the dark noisy building. His eyes never left her face as she carried him around the yard.

* * *

Young Allen wasn’t the only one staring at Sarah. River had taken a look at the horses Hollenberg had for sale and had noticed Sarah with the baby as he turned toward the store. He froze, forgetting the horses and the people milling around him, aware only of Sarah and the small child in her arms. She was thinner than he remembered, and he remembered all too well.

She had left the sunbonnet at the wagons, and her hair shone with the sun’s reflected fire. It reminded him suddenly of lamplight and red ribbons, ribbons he would loosen to allow her hair to cascade around her shoulders. He could almost feel the silken tresses between his fingers.

He watched her point out things to the baby, who refused to turn his head. After a few minutes he began to squirm, reaching toward the door where he had last seen his mother. River was surprised Sarah’s thin arms could hold the determined child, but, after a brief struggle, she won the battle, pulling the little body against her chest. She rocked him slowly, and he gave in, resting his head on her shoulder. She began to turn in a circle, continuing the rocking motion, caressing the tiny head as she comforted him.

For a moment River was in a lamp-lit room, watching her dance with someone else. He felt the stab of jealousy and pushed it away. It was a remembered emotion and had nothing to do with how he felt now. He looked toward the waiting wagons to bring himself back to the present, but she was still in front of him, dancing with the baby in the dusty yard, and there was nothing he could do but watch.

When Rice joined her, she quit turning but continued the rocking motion. The baby looked up to see who had interrupted and, with a little shudder, settled against her again. Rice held something up for her to see. Ribbons. Sarah nodded as they discussed them. Finally Rice folded the ribbons inside a paper and carefully tucked them in a pocket. He looked around the yard, catching sight of River. He waved, and Sarah turned, as well. Their eyes met for only a second before she turned away. The family returned, and Rice came running toward him.

“I bought ribbons for the von Schiller girls,” Rice told him eagerly. “I bought three like Sarah said. I’ll give the light blue one to their mama.”

“Ready to go, then?” River asked, looking over the boy’s shoulder to find Sarah. She had started toward the wagons, having traded the baby for the purchases. She held the hand of a little girl who was crying harder than the baby had been.

Rice interrupted his thoughts. “Did you ever give a girl something like a ribbon?”

River looked at the worried face and laughed. “Once or twice.”

“It don’t seem like much.”

“They’ll like the ribbons if they like you.”

“But I thought a present would help them like me.”

“I’m not sure it works that way,” River said. He glanced again at the retreating family. “Look, Rice, do me a favor. Tell Eli to pull out as soon as everyone is back. I’ll catch up in a little bit.”

“Sure thing,” Rice said, and started away.

“And, Rice...” The boy turned back. “The girls would have to be crazy not to like you.” Rice grinned and hurried toward the wagons and his previously forgotten lunch.

“Now where’s that fool boy gone off to?”

Sarah decided Eli was muttering, not asking, and therefore didn’t require an answer. She could guess that Rice had gone to the von Schiller wagon, but she hadn’t seen him go, and he hadn’t told her. She saw no reason to share her guess with Eli.

“I was about to go for the wood,” she told him. “Do you want me to look for Rice instead?”

“Well, I’ll need more wood than ya’ll find on the ground. Get River to go with ya and chop down one a them trees.”

River had just entered the camp. He dropped his saddle and gear near the supply wagon. “I got better things to do,” he said without sparing Sarah a glance.

“Don’t see what. Ya already assigned guards, and ya ain’t one a ‘em. Don’t see nobody askin’ for yer help with nothin’.” To illustrate this, Eli looked around the busy circle. “Go help Sarah bring in enough wood to fill the possum bellies in case we don’t make it to the Little Blue tomorrow and have to stop in the hills somewheres.”

River glared at Eli before chuckling in defeat. “I’ll get the wood, but what do I need her for?” He cast Sarah a dismissing glance, grabbed the ax and headed for the creek.

Eli called after him, “To help ya find yer way back.” He eyed Sarah curiously for a moment. She tried to pretend he hadn’t embarrassed her. “Fetch the water,” he directed.

Sarah unfastened the buckets from the side of the wagon, glad River’s long legs would keep him well ahead of her. She had barely left the camp when Rice caught up with her. He took one bucket from her and hurried on, making her walk faster. “I’m sorry I’m late. Is Eli mad?” He looked over his shoulder then walked faster still.

“I don’t know, Rice. With him it’s hard to tell. River’s gone after the wood, and he sent me for water.” To her dismay, Rice’s pace was threatening to make them catch up with River.

“I’ll get the water,” Rice offered, taking the second bucket. “See if you can keep Eli from being mad.”

Sarah stopped, too out of breath to argue, and watched the boy hurry away. At camp, Eli was muttering but no more than usual. She told him Rice would bring the water and went on to other duties. She had no idea how to keep the grumpy old man from being angry at Rice.

Rice and River returned at the same time. Before Eli could do more than stand up, pointing his paring knife at Rice, River said, “Introduce me to the folks, Rice. I’ve barely met some of them. We can start with that German family.” He threw an arm over the boy’s shoulder, steering him away.

Sarah failed to hide her amusement from Eli. “Just a clever way to get outta work, if ya ask me, which ya won’t. I suppose ya want to go, too. Well, go on. You ain’t met all these people, neither. Ain’t enough folks left for it to take long, anyhow.”

He sat back down and resumed his potato peeling. Sarah looked at him in dismay. Eli’s voice had been loud, and Rice and River had stopped, waiting for her to join them. Rice’s eager face and River’s glower left her torn for a second. But only for a second. She waved them away.

Supper was ready before they returned, and Sarah took advantage of the chance to look through her trunk. Somewhere there had to be something she could use to make Amy’s doll a new dress. Her supply of fabric was small, and she had plans for all of it. Dreams more than plans, she decided. It was what she hoped would get her started as a seamstress, along with taking in mending and probably laundry, as well. Surely she could part with a corner of something. She went through it all again, trying to decide what she could spare.