Beyond the Valley, page 10
“You should never limp again as long as you keep padding in your shoe. Does it make you happy? Do you feel comfortable with it?”
Tears sprang into her eyes and she laughed with joy. “This is marvelous! You have saved me, Dr. Hutton.”
She hurried to him, and without thinking she threw her arms around his chest and embraced him. A breath escaped her lips, slow and silent. She had taken a liberty she should not have. Mortified, she felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment, and she glanced up into his face, as his hands slipped down her arms.
“Forgive me, sir. I did not mean . . .” She dropped her hands.
“For what should I forgive you? To see you happy gives me joy. Why should you not express it?”
“It is improper of me.”
“Nonsense. Dance about the room if you wish.”
“Oh, I cannot dance. I never learned. I could not learn.”
“But you are happy?”
“I am. Thank you. How can I repay what you have done for me?”
Without an answer, Alex pulled her close, and then brought his lips near hers. “You owe me nothing. Do not ever think you do. I am indebted to you, you who have been a godsend. You’ve made me happy, Sarah.” He then touched his lips to hers, with so little pressure, yet so pleasant.
Shaken, Sarah stood back. “That mustn’t happen again. I am not meant for you.”
Alex leaned on the windowsill. “You think I should have been more constrained—thought of my station and yours?”
“I should not have dared to embrace you, sir.”
“You were happy. I do not blame you.”
“But I am at least partially to blame.”
He drew away from the window. “I should apologize for my lack of willpower. But you are so exquisitely pretty, kind, and good.”
Sarah frowned. “What am I to say to that, Dr. Hutton?”
“Nothing. It is obvious you did not like it. But I meant every word.”
He was wrong. She did like it. Sarah lowered her eyes and felt as if she were going to crumble to the floor. This emotion that stirred within her was new. She had not felt the same way with Jamie. This caused her heart to tremble, her hands to grab hold of her dress and twist it, her mind to whirl. She had to fight it. Be controlled and remember who and what she was.
Left with not knowing what to say, she opened the door. “Thank you, Dr. Hutton, for helping me. I shall never forget—your kindness.”
He stared at the floor. “Any good doctor would have done the same.”
“I have known a few in my past and none ever showed concern for me.” She walked out, and then turned back, trying to smile. “If you are hungry, I have breakfast ready. Do you like apple dumplings?”
He shook his head and laughed lightly. “Oh, Sarah. You have no idea.”
12
Sunshine crept through the windows in the hallway and heightened the happiness that fell over Sarah. Nothing would come from the kiss, but to know he admired her, thought her worthy of his affection, pleased her deeply. But now that this had happened, she knew she could not stay in the house alone with him. She hoped his aunt would show up soon, for she could not just up and leave. How would she explain?
Looking down at the floor in front of the door, she set her hands on her hips and frowned. There were tracks of mud from his boots. He needed a boot-scraper out on the porch. She removed the one outside the back kitchen door and set it out front. Then she filled a bucket with soapy water and, with brush in hand, got down on her hands and knees and scrubbed the floor with verve.
While she dried it with a rag, someone knocked on the door jarring her concentration. She stood, pulled back the bolt, and opened it. Out on the brick walk stood a woman in a dark russet cloak and broad straw hat. In her hand she held a valise. A coach waited out on the road at the end of the drive.
“Good day. Is Dr. Hutton at home?”
“He is.” Sarah brushed back the loose twists of hair that had fallen over her eyes. “May I ask who is calling?”
“Moria Burnsetter. I was sent for.”
Before Sarah could invite her in, Mrs. Burnsetter waved the coach on and stepped through the door. With a sigh that spoke of satisfaction, she set her bag down. “Ah, ’tis a fine house and exactly as Alex described it in his letter. It has a good kitchen with a large hearth, and a comfortable sitting room, has it?”
“Yes, ma’am, and the bedrooms are also a good size.”
“And a kitchen garden for planting vegetables?”
“Yes, Mrs.—”
“Burnsetter.” She tossed off her cloak, then handed Sarah her hat, an antique with frayed edges decorated with a faded ribbon and flower.
She made a nervous gesture with her hands, as if patting something invisible. “Take care, please, not to crush the silk rose on my Bergere. Hats like these are so costly, you know. I have had this one for years and it is quite dear to me.”
“I will be very careful, Mrs. Burnsetter, and treat it as if it were my own. Please, let me lay your cloak aside, and then I will call Dr. Hutton.” After setting the hat gently upon the table near the door and the cloak over the back of the chair beside it, Sarah stepped away.
Mrs. Burnsetter folded her hands. “How many rooms for servants?”
Sarah turned. “I believe only one. I am currently occupying it.”
“ ’Tis hard not to sleep in the bed you have grown accustomed to. You will be pleased to know, Mrs. Woodhouse wishes you to return to her house and resume your duties there. I met a messenger on the road. His horse was in the way and the driver stopped. When I told him who I was and where I was headed, he gave me a note to give to Alex. And to you, of course.”
Sarah could not smile. “I cannot say I am pleased.”
“Why not? Mrs. Woodhouse is your mistress after all, and their home is very fine from what I could see of it in the distance.”
“That is true. It’s just that I have grown attached to the girls, and I shall hate to leave them.” She had also grown attached to Alex, and the thought of parting from him caused her spirits to sink.
Mrs. Burnsetter looked sympathetic. “I can understand. But you do realize it is unseemly for you to stay longer, if you should have been here at all. Alex is a bachelor, and you the only woman in the house. Where are the children?”
Then she snapped her head upward and looked toward the top of the staircase. “Ah, those must be the little angels. Hello, children. Come and greet your auntie.”
With a great toothy smile, Mrs. Burnsetter spread her arms wide. But being shy, Rose and Lily leaned on the railing. Mrs. Burnsetter swiveled on her heels to Sarah. “Why do they not come down?”
“You must excuse them. They are a little bashful.” She went up the steps and took the girls by the hands and brought them down. Standing in front of the newcomer, the girls stared, wide-eyed.
“Say hello to your great aunt, Rose, Lily.”
Mrs. Burnsetter threw her arms about them, practically smothering them in her ample bosom. “They are indeed precious. But so thin?”
“Until Dr. Hutton arrived, they had had little to eat.”
Mrs. Burnsetter wiggled her head. “Poor dears. And to lose their mother shortly after their father is unfortunate indeed. Where is their uncle? Why have you not called him?”
“I was about to when you stopped me.”
Sorry she would have to return to the Woodhouses, Sarah headed for the study. Alex opened the door before she could knock, and stopped short upon sight of the generously proportioned woman standing in the hallway with his nieces.
“Ah, at last.” Mrs. Burnsetter wiggled her head again and held out her arms. “I barely recognize you, Alex. It has been so long.”
“Aunt Moria!” He smiled and kissed her cheek. “I am so pleased to see you.”
“And I you, Alex. You look so well, and so handsome.”
“I have grown older and war-weary. How was your journey?”
“Tolerable.”
“Please come and sit down.” He turned to Sarah. “Bring the girls in with us, Sarah.”
Aunt Moria followed him into the sitting room. Sarah and the girls trailed behind. The fire had burned low and Alex banked it with a fresh log. Sarah led the girls to the opposite settee and fluffed the pillows on Aunt Moria’s chair.
“Have you a blanket, dear?” she asked, sitting down. “My limbs are chilled to the bone from riding in that creaky old coach.”
Sarah drew one from the back of the settee and laid it over Aunt Moria’s knees with the same kind of gentle care she showed to Temperance.
With a sigh, Aunt Moria settled back. “I was so grieved to learn Benjamin died, Alex, and then that his wife had followed him. When I read your letter, I got down on my knees and thanked the Lord you had arrived when you did. What would have happened to these children if you had not?”
Alex leaned forward in his chair. “The girls are doing much better since Sarah has been here. My cooking is poor and she has made up for that.”
“Well, they needed a woman to care for them. She has done a good deed.”
“Yes, she has been a godsend.”
Sarah did not meet his eyes when he spoke of her. A gentle smile lifted her mouth ever so slightly, and she hoped he would realize the blessing that had been born out of tragedy.
“Oh, before I forget, Mrs. Woodhouse has sent you this. I met her messenger on the way here, as he was out on the road but a short distance away. I hope you do not mind.” Aunt Moria handed Alex the note. After he read it, he placed it in his waistcoat pocket and stared at the fire. Sarah could tell the news disappointed him by the lingering sadness in his eyes.
“Mr. Woodhouse wishes you to return home, Sarah,” he said, a hint of regret in his voice.
But I want my home to be with you—and the twins. “Yes, I know.”
“He says his wife has been whiling away for you and he is worried.”
Sarah lowered her eyes. “Indeed I am sure that is true. She has delicate emotions.”
When she saw Rose blink her eyes and watched the frown on Lily’s face deepen, she could bear it no longer. It seemed the air had been sucked out of the room, that the sunlight that streamed through the windows had suddenly clouded over. She turned and walked out, then went upstairs to gather her meager belongings.
13
Frost coated the corners of the window. Sarah shivered and stepped away after she saw Alex ride up on Charger. He had been gone not quite an hour and looked harried as he dismounted and guided his horse to the small barn at the rear of the house. Her window faced the barn, and the fields of grass that met a border of pines. She thought perhaps he had gone to check on the family with the sick children, and was unconcerned about her.
She delayed packing her things. They were piled together on the bed next to her bag. Instead, she had stood by the window all this time, praying Mr. Woodhouse would change his mind. But she knew it was not meant to be. In a few moments, she would be out on the lane headed back to her master’s house, possibly never to see Alex again. She did not like the ache this thought brought to her heart. Tears pooled in her eyes and she let them fall, and then wiped them away with a stroke of her hand.
“I do not want to go back.” She whispered the words. “I do not want to leave him and the girls, Lord. I want to stay, even if it means I would be indentured to him. If he cannot love me as his wife, let him have me as his servant.”
Then she turned away from the window. She heard his boots stump up the stairs and come down the hall. A shadow fell near. She could feel him close to her—sense the beating of his heart and his eyes upon her.
“You are ready to leave?” he asked softly.
She lowered her head. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
“You know I have no right to keep you with me, Sarah.”
She folded her spare dress and tucked it into her sack. “It is the law I obey, Mr. Woodhouse, until I am free.”
“Try not to worry about Rose and Lily.”
“Your aunt will take good care of them. So why should I be concerned? She is so experienced, and is family.” Her horsehair brush sat on top of the dresser. She grabbed it and packed it.
He stepped closer. “My brother and Emma would have wanted it that way. But I will miss seeing your face every day and our conversations in the evenings.”
She swallowed the tight feeling in her throat. “As I will, too. And I shall miss the twins. Their smiles always brightened my mood.”
“You should know, I rode over and asked Mr. Woodhouse to allow you to stay longer. He said he could not oblige me, and saw no reason for you to stay on.”
Sarah smoothed the spread that lay over the bed. “If Mrs. Woodhouse is throwing fits over me, and I do not go to her, she will fall sick. I have seen it happen before. She panics.”
“She is ill already. I will try to help her.”
“Then you will come to the farm?”
“Yes, but only a few times. I do not think it will take long for her to recover. Mr. Woodhouse said she has a cold.”
“Oh, I see.” She closed the doors to the mahogany armoire, now empty of her scant possessions.
“I wish you would be still, Sarah. There are things I wish to say.”
Sarah lifted her sack and turned. “It is best you do not. Why give me hope where there is none?”
Stepping to the door, he moved aside, but stopped her with a touch of his hand on hers. “We have feelings for each other, have we not?”
She pinched her brows together and lowered her gaze. “I cannot admit what I feel. It would not be right.”
“Yet, I see it in your eyes every time you look at me. You can say you love me without words, Sarah.”
She fought the rise of emotion bubbling inside her. “You must not speak these things to me.”
“Why not? Give me a reason.”
“I am indentured, poor, and lowborn. You are not.”
“Those are your circumstances, Sarah. Not who you are.”
“You are wrong. They have made me what I am. I will carry a stigma for the rest of my life. I am not for you. You deserve a woman higher than I.”
Frustrated, he shook his head. “I want you. Can you not see?” He put his hands on her shoulders. “I will pay off your debt and free you. Mr. Woodhouse will welcome the money. He will let you go.”
He spoke with passion, and Sarah fought back the tears that pooled in her eyes. Still she could not throw herself upon his mercy, and for what reason she could not explain either to him or herself.
She gripped the sack as hard as she could, as if to choke it.
“And be indentured to you? Again, I am to be bargained for.” She shoved past him. “I shall work and pay my own debt. No man shall ever buy me again if I can help it.”
Knowing what she had just asked God, that, if not a wife then let her be a servant to the man she loved, would only make her heart break. For if she were his property, and he were to find a wife, how could she live in the same house, under the same roof, still loving him? Without another word, she hurried down the stairs to the front door, grabbed her cloak from the peg, and rushed out. The cold smacked her full force. Alex followed her.
“I will not have you walking there alone.”
“I do not need protection.” And she stormed on, angry that she had to leave him.
“None at all? You have forgotten the Indians we met before?”
“They will not harm me,” she said over her shoulder. “You said so.”
“There are no guarantees of that.”
“They went away, back to their villages.”
He moved in front of her and she stopped. “As long as you are with me, you are my responsibility. You will go on horseback, not walk. Understand?”
Stunned, she looked up at him. What he told her seemed fair and true, and she had no reason to treat him so rudely. None of this was his fault.
He snatched her bag out of her hand. “Now, go back inside and kiss the girls good-bye. They will be disappointed if you do not. I will be waiting outside with Charger.”
14
Alex turned his horse onto a narrow path, and they emerged in a place where the land opened out. He drew rein at the edge of a cliff that overlooked the mouth of the Potomac as it flowed peacefully into the Chesapeake Bay. Seabirds swooped above, and the water shimmered as the sun briefly broke through the clouds.
The feel of him behind her, his knees holding her in place, made Sarah feel safer than she had ever felt. She gazed at the scene before her until her eyes smarted and the wind brought tears to them. Her hair lifted back and she filled her lungs with the scent of land and river.
“Not a ship in sight,” Alex said. “But beyond that point where the land juts into the water, the British are warring against us. And across the river, see that strip of yellow? That is the road I took before crossing here—where I found you.” He spoke the words into her ear, and a sad smile quivered over her lips.
“Was it a long journey?” she asked.
“Yes, and it is not over.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
He ignored her question. “I wish we could stay, but those clouds to the east mean snow within the hour.”
He turned Charger and went down the road toward the Woodhouse farm. Soon small flakes of snow whirled about them, as clouds drifted overhead in sheets of gray and white. Sarah drew her hood over her head and as they rode on, she watched the snow coat the ground and glaze the trees. Smoke curled from the chimney of the house, and she suddenly felt the icy air seep through her woolen cloak. Alex dismounted, reached up, and helped her down.
“Be sure the girls keep their woolen stockings on,” she said. “And tell your aunt to put the warming pan under the covers before she puts them to bed.”
“I will.” He shoved his boot into the stirrup and remounted. She watched him ride away, wondering when, or if, she would see him again.
Shutting the door against the wind and whirling snow, Sarah leaned her back against it and shut her eyes. She heard Temperance upstairs whining to Celia. After a moment’s hesitation, she climbed the staircase and made her return known. Relief sprang over Temperance’s face when Sarah stepped through the door. She let out a little cry and waved her handkerchief for Sarah to come further into the room.
