Read Sarah's Surrender Online

Authors: Vickie; McDonough

Sarah's Surrender (25 page)

Could it be that coming to Anadarko was part of God's plan for him? He never would have made the move if not for his father's death. A pastor he'd heard once said that all our days are numbered, and only God knows that number. He said that no one could take your life before God's time for you to go. If that was true, then his father's death had been God's will.

He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to grasp the concept. A warm breeze caressed his face, almost as if God had blown a breath in his direction. He felt a freedom—a peace—that he hadn't felt in a long while. All this time he'd been angry and upset, trying to move on with his life on his own instead of turning to God.

As he rode down the streets of Anadarko, several people nodded while others lifted a hand, waving at him. He smiled back. He had a home here, and he was making friends. It was time he let go of the past and faced his future.

Instantly, his thoughts shot straight to Miss Worley. She certainly was pretty, with those black eyes glinting when she was upset. It still surprised him that he was drawn to her. He admired her desire to help the girl. He just hoped it wouldn't fade as she realized how much work was involved in raising a child. Too many people took in children like those on the orphan train or ones from an orphanage to make them personal slaves. He doubted that was Miss Worley's reason for taking in the young girl. Claire was too little to be of any help. In fact, she would add to Miss Worley's workload.

As he reached his small barn, he reined his horse to a stop and dismounted. He unfastened the cinch and tugged off the saddle. Perhaps there was something he could do to help out Miss Worley. Sometimes people paid him with food supplies he wasn't partial to, like turnips or beets. Chickens and sometimes a cow came his way, but he preferred to eat his chicken and beef prepared by the hands of someone else. Though he could do surgery on a person, he couldn't stand participating in slaughtering animals.

He dropped the saddle onto the wooden block, remembering something that happened years ago, way back before his mother died. At his mother's request, when he was just a child, he'd tried wringing a chicken's neck, but in the end he'd turned the bird loose and told her it had gotten away. That was one of the few times he'd lied to either of his parents. He smiled at the memory. After looking that poor ugly hen in the face, he just couldn't kill her. Even then he'd had a merciful heart. He preferred fixing injured animals and people.

He hadn't seen a milk cow at Miss Worley's place. He'd never taken one in trade, or that would be something he could pass on to her since he had no need for one. He'd recently accepted several smoked hams, but he could never eat that much pork. Maybe he could do some swapping for a goat. But then he'd have the issue of getting Miss Worley to accept it from him. He smiled. Where there was a will, there was a way.

After a day of hard work at Sarah's house and enjoying a good supper that she and Mrs. Peterson had cooked, Jack rode into Anadarko. He'd put Cody to bed in Sarah's tent with Claire and gone for a ride. He couldn't explain his restlessness to Sarah when she'd asked where he was going so late in the day. Maybe she hadn't realized that it was eight months ago today that Cora had died.

He missed his wife and still didn't understand why God had taken her from him. It was probably just as well that he wasn't preaching at his church in Guthrie now. Those first sermons after her death had been difficult, and he feared his anger and confusion might have come through, even though he'd tried to hide it.

He rode down the quiet street, noting the changes. A week had passed since he'd been to town, and there were more completed buildings. Most were still raw wood, but a few had been painted. Plenty of tents remained, where people either lived or ran their business. There was something exciting about witnessing the birth of a town. Everyone was filled with hope.

He'd be lying if he said he was. In truth, he'd been disappointed at not winning land, and a time or two he'd been jealous of Sarah. He'd been hoping for a fresh start in a new place with not so many memories of Cora.

Jack nodded at a man who closed the door of his barbershop and started down the street. A hound dog that had been lying down in front of the building rose and stretched then followed the barber. The man had a slight resemblance to Gabe. His friend had encouraged him to take time away from the pulpit after Cora's death, but Jack hadn't wanted to create more havoc for his congregation.

Gabe told him he needed time to grieve Cora's death, but he'd told himself that he had to be strong for Cody. The boy hardly ever asked about his ma anymore. Did Cody remember how Cora had hummed as she worked around the house? Or that she never let him and Cody leave without kissing them both good-bye? Surely his son wouldn't forget the special cake and big to-do his mama had made for his birthday each year.

Jack's heart clenched. Would Cody remember any of that after a few years had gone by? He couldn't begrudge his son the fact that kids were more adaptable than adults.

A ruckus down the alley on his right made him slow his horse. A woman screamed, and a man who looked to be attacking her stumbled into Jack's view. He reined his horse, kicked him into a trot down the alley, and headed straight for the man.

The stranger looked up and let go of the woman, stepping back just as Jack's horse plowed into him. He fell onto his backside in a pile of debris, looking surprised. Jack jumped off and grabbed him by the collar. “A man's got no business roughing up a lady.”

The man made a noise in the back of throat then spat to the side. “She ain't no lady.”

Jack pulled the smelly drunk to his feet. “She's a woman, and as such, should be treated with respect.”

“L'me go. You can have the trollop. She ain't worth fightin' over.” The man pushed at Jack's chest, and he turned him loose. He waited until the man had gone inside what he just realized was a saloon. He'd been so deep in thought he hadn't noticed the tinny piano music or the raucous laughter.

He backed up his horse and looked at the woman for the first time. She wore the typical low-cut show dress of a saloon gal, revealing her—. He jerked up his gaze, trying to focus on her pretty but painted face and not anything lower. She swiped her hand across the corner of her mouth, where blood trickled down.

“Thank you for helpin' me, mister, but you shouldn't have gone to the trouble. I don't deserve to have a good man like you standin' up for the likes of me.”

“Everyone deserves to be treated kindly, ma'am. Can I ask your name?”

“My real name is Charlotte VanBuren, but I ain't used it in a long while. Folks here call me Sadie.”

“I'm Jack Jensen. If you want to leave this place, Miss VanBuren, I can help you.”

She stared at him, blinking her eyes as if she wasn't sure he was real. Then she snorted. “There ain't nowhere else for a woman like me to go.”

“Yes, there is. You don't have to live this life. I'll help you if you want to leave.”

For a moment, her eyes lit with hope before they glassed over again. “I cain't leave. My little sister's in school, and I need my pay to keep her there.” She ducked her head and then fluffed her overly short purple skirt. “I gotta keep her in school so she don't end up like me.”

“There are other ways for a woman to make a living.”

She huffed a crude laugh. “Not for one who cain't neither sew nor cook.”

“You could learn.”

She eyed him. “What are you? A preacher man?”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Sometimes.”

“I ain't never heard of a
sometimes
preacher.”

“I have a church back in the Guthrie area, but I'm here to help a family member get settled on their land.”

She moved closer then ran her finger down the buttons of his shirt. She cocked her head. “You a drinkin' kind of preacher?”

Jack shook his head and stepped back. “No, ma'am. I'm not. If you're not interested in my help, I'd best be on my way.” He tipped his hat. “Remember, God loves you as much as He does me or any other person in town. I'll be at this same spot this time next week. If you decide you want to leave this place, be here ready to go.”

“She ain't goin' nowhere.” A bald man with a bushy mustache stormed off the porch with another larger man following. The drunk he accosted shuffled out the door behind them with a smirk on his face.

“Get inside, Sadie,” the first man said. “I don't pay you to stand out here and gab with strangers.”

“You don't hardly pay me nuthin'.”

He slapped the back of his hand against her cheek. Sadie gasped and pressed her palm to her face. She flashed Jack an apologetic glance then rushed up the steps and into the saloon. The man rounded on him. Too late, Jack realized the bigger man had crept around behind him. The giant grabbed Jack's arms, pulling them back. He struggled against the man's hold, but he couldn't break free.

“You ain't welcome here. I don't cotton to strangers comin' here and tryin' to steal my girls.” He balled his fist and slugged Jack in the belly, forcing the breath from his lungs. Two more punches to his gut bent him over. The mustache man slugged him in the face, three times. Blood filled Jack's mouth and pain flooded his body. He hauled back and belted his fist against Jack's temple. His head was flung sideways, and the big man released his hold, allowing Jack to fall to the ground. He fought to keep conscious.

The drunk stumbled over and gave him a benign kick in the side, spilling some of his whisky onto Jack's shirt. He murmured a curse then headed back inside.

Nasty scents assaulted him as he lay in the filth of the street. Men often vomited or relieved themselves outside a saloon. Jack didn't want to think what he was lying in, but he couldn't move. Pain stabbed his belly and face. It looked like he had two horses waiting on him, but he knew that wasn't the case. He needed to get home. Sarah would be worried, as would Cody if he woke up and couldn't find him.

Another man exited the back door of the saloon, and Jack braced himself for more pain. The man bent down. “You think you can get up, mister? Sadie asked me to help you. Said you was just tryin' to help her, so I'm obliged for that. I'm rather partial to that gal.”

Jack nodded and struggled to sit up. His gut screamed at him. He worked his jaw, glad it wasn't broken. The man helped him to his feet. Jack wobbled but managed to keep standing. He pressed his arm against his stomach to hold back the burning pain.

“You wanna walk to the doctor or ride?”

He shook his head. He needed to get back to Sarah's. “No doctor.”

The man lifted one eyebrow. “I got orders to get you to a doctor. Sadie knows how Hamlin and his ogre can beat up a man.”

“Fine. Take me to Dr. Worth then.” Jack managed to climb onto his horse and hang on as the man led the gelding down the street. Things sure hadn't turned out well tonight. What would Sarah say when she saw him?

The crickets outside created a peaceful atmosphere as Sarah sat on her cot in her tent, praying for Jack to return soon to get Cody and take him to their tent. It wasn't until she'd finished her evening Bible reading that she realized what day this was—the day Cora had died eight months ago. No wonder Jack had been moping and restless much of the day. Most days troubles ran off him like water on oiled canvas, but not today.

As she ran her brush through her long hair, she wondered what it would be like to lose a spouse you loved so much. She'd never been in love. Hadn't ever known anyone who was until she met Gabe and Lara, whose love was still strong after twelve years of marriage. Then Jack had married Cora and brought her to live at the ranch. Sarah had watched their fresh, new love grow into something more mature and endless. But it had ended—when Cora died.

A much as she wanted her independence, a part of her longed to be loved as Gabe and Jack loved their wives. She thought about Luke, and an odd feeling stirred in the pit of her stomach. He asked her to marry him, but did he truly love her? They'd been friends for so long that it was hard to think of him as her husband, but on the other hand, it made her sad to think of not having him in her life at all.

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