The Strong One (Cutter's Creek Book 2) Read online

  Bill whistled softly under his breath.

  “Phewee! I think my heart just broke,” he chuckled, sitting down hard on the ground and rubbing his hands across his eyes.

  God, please let me see that woman again.

  Chapter 6

  Sam and Estelle Todd moved about their kitchen as though they were caught in a rhythmic dance for two. That’s what it seemed like to Sarah who had been watching them closely out of the corner of her eye for the past thirty minutes while she shelled peas and diced onions for the rabbit stew. They smiled at each other, and spoke together in low tones, laughing softly and sharing private jokes that Sarah couldn’t understand. Over the past two days with the Todds, Sarah had come to recognize this kind of intimacy as their norm. But it certainly wasn’t something she was accustomed to.

  Is this what love looks like?

  She’d watched Braves falling in love with the young women back home, but it was a different dance. A flirtation. A courtship. This looked as though the two of them enjoyed each other’s company so much they didn’t want to be apart. That they knew each other so well, they were almost an extension of the other. Sarah had never known a couple could be like that together.

  “How long have you been married?” asked Sarah, before blushing at her own candor. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “We don’t mind at all, dear,” said Estelle, smiling kindly at her. “It’s been thirty-four years.” She caught Sam’s eye and he winked at her, a grin splitting his round face in two.

  Estelle was dicing carrots, and Sam was slicing the rabbit meat. He’d skinned the animals already, and had salted the skins, laying them in the outside scullery to cure. Sarah was used to seeing men occasionally skin and cure the hides of the animals they killed after a hunt, but she’d never seen one dice up the meat for a stew before. That was women’s work. She watched him curiously, unsure of how to act around the pair. For his part, Sam whistled contentedly and worked as though it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be there.

  “I’ve never seen a man cook a meal for his family before. I mean, I knew a man in Hardin who sometimes made meals for the customers at his inn, but that was different,” said Sarah, studying him warily.

  Sam laughed, a loud guffaw, and Estelle chortled along with him.

  “We spend so much time out on the road together, that we just kind of developed a rhythm. We do everything together. It just made sense out there for me to join in the work of making meals, otherwise I’d just be sittin’ around doin’ nothing on my own, and I didn’t really take to that. So, when we come home, I suppose we just keep going the way we always have.”

  Sarah nodded and smiled shyly. “It’s nice, I think,” she said.

  “Well, I think this rabbit stew is goin’ to be just delicious. I mean, you must have found the most plump, delectable creatures out there in the hollow. Just look at this meat. We’ll be as fat as grizzlies after a summer feast.” Sam patted his comfortable belly and laughed. “You sure did a great job, Sarah. We sure are glad to have you here with us.”

  Sarah flinched, unsure of how to react. No one but her mother had ever said anything like that to her before. Certainly no man ever had. She had to fight to stop hot tears from filling her eyes.

  Turning away, she mumbled, “You’re welcome,” and continued working on the onions, muttering under her breath over how the vegetables must be stinging her eyes.

  “God sure is good, providing us with this abundance of food,” said Estelle, smiling broadly at her husband over the pile of carrots.

  Sarah stared at them in confusion. What did they mean by that? She’d certainly heard about God from a group of nuns who had passed through Hardin when she was living there. They’d stood outside the saloon preaching to all who’d listen. Then they’d left as suddenly as they’d arrived.

  Sarah hadn’t really understood what they’d been talking about, but she’d definitely heard the word ‘God’ bandied around. Still, she’d never heard anyone talk about Him in casual conversation like that before. Come to think of it, she’d never met anyone like the Todds before. They were generous and loving, and had even placed themselves in harm’s way to protect her from Angus Colt. They treated each other with gentle kindness, and made her feel appreciated and accepted all at once.

  She didn’t know what to think. She hoped she could stay with them for a while. At least until she was sure Colt wasn’t going to return. Who knew, maybe they’d grow to like her and want her to stick around. Even as the thought crossed her mind, it was immediately chased away by another worrying one – she knew the Todds weren’t family and that she’d have to move on eventually. Nothing lasted forever, especially not the kindness of strangers – that much Sarah knew for certain.

  Chapter 7

  When Sarah awoke the next morning, she took a moment to register where she was. Shaking the sleep from her head, she rubbed her eyes – she was in the Todd’s guest room. Even after staying with them several days, she still sometimes forgot where she was and woke up anxious. Sitting on a small chair, she washed herself in the wash basin on the dressing table by her bed.

  Sarah stared at her face in the fuzzy looking glass that hung above the dressing table. Her long, brown hair hung straight about her shoulders, framing a tanned face. High cheekbones accentuated her angular features, and large green eyes stared back at her above a full mouth. It wasn’t obvious her heritage included native blood, but she could see her mother in her reflection.

  A pang of grief burned through her. She missed her mother dearly, and at a time like this when she found herself surrounded by warmth, she missed her even more than usual.

  Taking a deep breath, Sarah stood to her feet and dressed. She didn’t have much in the bag she’d carried with her when she ran from Angus Colt, but she had a spare gown and her buckskin dress. Wearing the other gown would give her an opportunity to wash the one she had arrived in, since it was covered with mud, dirt, and even blood from where her arms and legs had been scratched and scraped on rocks and shrubbery as she ran.

  She generally wore gowns so that she wouldn’t attract too much attention, although she preferred the soft feel of the buckskin. One thing she’d never been able to get used to was the layers of petticoats and corsets that the English women wore. She endured the petticoats, but was ready to give up entirely on the corset, it pinched her so. The constrictive pressure on her middle and chest was more than she was willing to bear in the name of fashion. She pushed the corset aside, and pulled the spare gown from her shoulder bag.

  Finally finished buttoning up her bodice, Sarah sat on the bed to brush her hair. She wondered where Angus Colt was now. Had he stayed in Cutter’s Creek? Or was he long gone? Surely he would have left when he couldn’t find her. The Todds said he looked as though he was heading out of town after he spoke with them. Sarah sighed, and smoothed her shining hair with her hand, then separated it into three pieces, twisting it into a braid. It was time for her to stop worrying about men like Angus Colt and get on with her life. Colt, the elders, everyone who meant her harm – they were all behind her now. She was determined to start afresh.

  Today would mark the beginning of a new era in Sarah Songan’s life. She would no longer look over her shoulder every step of every day. Running from Angus Colt had shaken her to the core. She didn’t want to live that way anymore. She would embrace life, unafraid, undeterred. Things were going to be different from now on.

  She frowned, thinking about what was to come. When it was time for her to leave the Todds behind, where would she go next? Sarah was sick of running, sick of not having a place to call home, or a family to share her life with. She felt tired – deep down in her marrow. Tired of everything.

  If only she could stay here in Cutter’s Creek. Perhaps she could. Why not? If Angus Colt was gone, then maybe she could find a job and put down some roots here. It seemed like such a quiet town. Just the kind of place she could grow to love.

  Hardin had been
a rough settlement. Only a few houses, but plenty of liquor at the saloon for the ranch hands who were passing through. Cutter’s Creek seemed like a family town – businesses, houses, even a chapel. It would be a good place to live. It wasn’t home, but it would do for now.

  ***

  A knock on the front door startled Sarah and sent her eyes flying wide open. She was working with Estelle in the kitchen. Estelle was teaching her how to make johnnycakes, and Sarah was pouring the creamy buttermilk into the batter, while Estelle stirred.

  “Now who could that be?” Estelle wiped her hands on her apron, then lifted the strap over her head to hang it on a peg on the kitchen wall.

  Sarah removed her apron as well, and smoothed stray strands of hair from her face. She watched the door closely, feeling nervous tension bubbling in her stomach. When would she ever feel safe? Anytime someone showed up unannounced, Sarah always assumed that they’d come with bad intentions.

  You don’t belong here. You’re not one of us, she imagined them saying, as they dragged her off.

  When Estelle opened the door, Sarah saw Bill Hanover standing there on the stoop, his Stetson in his hands, his coat flapping in the breeze behind him. The cold wind blew in around him, disrupting the warmth of the house and making Sarah shiver in her thin dress.

  “Good morning ladies. How do you do?” he asked, brown eyes twinkling.

  Sarah’s heart thumped in her chest. What was he doing here? Was he following her as well? What did he want?

  “Good morning, sir. How can I help you?” asked Estelle, her hand resting on the side of the door.

  “My name is Bill Hanover, ma’am. I met a young lady the other day, out hunting in the woods. I found out from Charlie Pickering that she might be staying here. I just came to check on her, make sure she got back all right with her string of rabbits. She was a mite greedy, and took ‘em all for herself.” He chuckled, and grinned at them both.

  Sarah sidled toward the back door, ready to run, but unsure of why she felt as though she should. Bill was being kind and jovial. There was no hint of any trouble, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she should run – it was always there, in the back of her mind.

  She wasn’t safe anywhere. She didn’t belong.

  Estelle laughed along with him. “She certainly did. And we’ve been enjoying them, I can tell you. I’m Estelle Todd. Won’t you come in?”

  “Why thank you, ma’am.”

  Just then, Sam walked into the house from the backyard where he’d been feeding the chickens. He lay a basket of eggs on the kitchen sideboard, then washed his hands in a basin. Patting them dry, he walked over to Bill with a wide smile.

  “Howdy, I’m Sam Todd.”

  He grasped Bill’s hand and shook it effusively.

  “Sam, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Bill Hanover.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Bill. And where have you come from?”

  “Over by Milestown, but at the moment I’ve got a mite of work on the Gilmore property, just outside of town.”

  “Oh yes, I know Holston Gilmore well. He’s a good man.”

  “Yes, he is. I was just telling your wife, Estelle, how I met this young lady the other day in the woods. She was hunting, and almost caught me in her cross hairs. I only just escaped with my life.”

  Sam laughed good-naturedly, while Estelle bustled about in the kitchen fixing a pitcher of sweet, cold lemonade for them all to share. “Seems to me Sarah made quite the impression.”

  “Yes, she did.” Bill’s cheeks flushed pink.

  “Would you be a dear and grab four cups from the cabinet, please, Sarah?” asked Estelle.

  Sarah hurried to join her in the kitchen, her eyebrows drawn into a frown. Estelle glanced at Sarah, then lay the pitcher of lemonade on the counter. “What is it, my dear? Is there something wrong?”

  Sarah shook her head, and wiped the scowl from her face. Smiling lightly at Estelle, she cleared her throat. “No, everything’s fine. I’m just surprised to see Mr. Hanover here. We really don’t know each other, just bumped into each other in the woods. I wonder what he’s doing here?”

  Estelle’s eyes glimmered for a moment, and a half-grin flitted across her face.

  “I could hazard a guess, but I suppose we’ll find out in a moment, dear. In the meantime, let’s have some lemonade and visit with him for a bit, shall we?”

  Sarah nodded and lowered herself to her knees. Pushing back a short curtain that hung on a string beneath the kitchen table, she picked out four cups that were sitting upside down on the carefully constructed cedar shelves. Standing to her feet again, she smoothed her skirt and drew in a deep breath.

  Sarah overheard the Todds speaking with Bill.

  “And what were you up to in Milestown, if you don’t mind my asking?” said Estelle.

  “My folks have a small ranch there.”

  “Is that so? You grew up on a ranch then?” chimed in Sam.

  “Yes sir.”

  “I was raised in town myself. The son of an undertaker. Not much of a family business to my way of thinking, so I decided to strike out on my own. We sell all kinds of things, Estelle and I. Mostly pots and pans, all over the state and into Wyoming.

  “We’re done for the year now though. Don’t like to travel in the cold months. We did it once, and got stranded in a blizzard. Didn’t think we’d make it out alive. The Crow saved us though. We were on our way home, and they found us, half frozen to death. Pulled us out and took us into their dwellings. We would have died without them, that’s the truth.”

  Sarah stiffened. She hadn’t known that about the Todds. They’d been saved by her own people. Surely she’d have remembered a story like that; it would have been a vivid tale hummed and woven together by the elders as they sat about the fire.

  She tried hard to recollect a story about saving a white couple from a blizzard. It was too bad she rarely paid attention to the tales told by the village storytellers in dulcet tones above the cracking and spitting of a warm blaze. When she was younger, she usually fell right to sleep, the murmur of voices lulling her into a deep slumber with her head resting on her mother’s soft lap.

  “Sarah dear, are you coming?”

  Sarah was jolted back to the present, and hurried into the living room with the cups. Placing them on the rough-hewn coffee table in the center of the room, she looked around for somewhere to sit, and then made her way to the sofa. She sat in the only remaining seat - beside Bill Hanover. He smiled at her, and she looked away, blinking rapidly. Estelle poured each of them a cup of ice-cold lemonade, and they sipped it quietly, the awkward silence between them growing.

  “Do you folks know about the dance tonight?” asked Bill, his eyes on Sarah’s face.

  “Oh, you mean the one over at the church?” asked Estelle.

  “Yes, ma’am, the red chapel.”

  “That’s the one. Sam and I were married there, weren’t we my dear?”

  “We were indeed. Did you know that it’s red because it’s painted with a mixture of linseed oil and rust, to protect the timber?”

  “Is that so?” Bill listened intently to Sam, but his eyes strayed frequently to Sarah’s figure beside him on the couch. Sarah was watching him out of the corner of her eye, and becoming more and more agitated with each passing moment.

  “Well, anyhow,” continued Bill, “I was hoping you might all come. Sarah, do you think you might come?” He turned to her, his eyes filled with the hopeful question.

  Sarah fixed her green eyes on his, and felt warmth rising to her cheeks. “Well, I don’t know . . . ”

  “Of course we’ll come,” Estelle answered, interrupting Sarah’s excuse. “We’d love to, and we have nothing else going on. Thank you for your kind invitation.”

  Bill’s face erupted into a wide grin, and he stood to his feet, spinning his Stetson around and around between his fingers. “Great. It’s at six o’clock. There’ll be supper and punch, as well as dancing, of course. I’ll be looking
forward to it.”

  He dipped his head in a quick bow, and made for the front door. “I’ll see myself out. Thanks for the lemonade, Mrs. Todd, it was divine. See you tonight.”

  With that, he was gone. Sarah could hear the thundering of his horse’s hooves on the road as he left, no doubt heading back to his work on the Gilmore ranch. Sarah gulped a mouthful of her drink, letting the tart lemon flavor sit on her tongue a moment before she swallowed. She’d never had lemonade before, and was relishing the combination of sweet and sour on her taste-buds. She shook her head and gave a shiver as the liquid ran down her throat.

  Obviously, Bill Hanover had taken a liking to her and wanted to see her at the dance tonight. Although he was certainly handsome and charming, Sarah was not the slightest bit interested in developing a relationship with anyone. All she wanted to do was to keep her head down and not attract attention of any kind.

  Since arriving in Cutter’s Creek, she had purposely kept away from the townsfolk. She’d stayed away from the main street, and had stuck mostly to the fields, woods, and creeks surrounding the little hamlet. But that’s where Bill had found her, and now he was giving her the attention she had been trying to avoid.

  The last thing she needed was for word to get around about a new girl in town. Everyone would be interested in finding out all about her. Angus Colt may not have left the area yet, and if he heard she was here, he might come looking for her again.

  Well, she couldn’t say no to the dance now. Not when Estelle seemed so determined for them to go. She was growing quite attached to the motherly, old lady, and couldn’t bear to disappoint her. Sarah finished her drink and rose to return her cup to the kitchen.

  Estelle and Sam were deep in conversation about their Thanksgiving plans, since the holiday would be coming up in less than two months, and each of them had a different idea about how it should be celebrated this year. Estelle was arguing for them to visit her niece over by Sinewa Falls, east of Cutter’s Creek. But Sam wanted to travel south to visit his brother, Stan, since they hadn’t seen him in two years.