Healing Sarah (American Homespun Book 3) Read online

  Sarah glanced out the window before opening the door. “Parmelia, what is wrong?”

  Parmelia blew her nose loudly. “Oh, we had a terrible row, and Widow Webb told me I need to leave. She gave me until the morning, but I can’t stay there with Clara in the house. May I stay here?”

  “You are more than welcome providing you don’t find Rose an unsuitable hostess.” Sarah eyed the small bag Parmelia carried. “Where are the rest of your things?”

  “Oh, I only own one small trunk. I can get it in the morning. It is too late to ask for help. Besides, I didn’t know if you would let me stay. I can’t pay much as my funds are rather tight.”

  “You can stay for free if you will cook. You have no idea how tired I am of eating of boiled eggs and porridge. I am such a terrible cook.”

  “Oh, I was too until I got a copy of Amelia Simmons’s American Cookery. It is ever so much better than The Universal Cook. Maybe because it’s written by an orphan like me, but I just understand it better.”

  Sarah led Parmelia upstairs. “I haven’t cleaned the room since Mrs. Duncan left. I have been sleeping in the downstairs room since Rose was born. Mrs. Larkin and Mrs. Palmer re-stuffed the tick for me after Amity passed. My room is a disaster, my dresses all over …”

  Parmelia held up her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I can only imagine how difficult it has been to be alone with a baby.”

  He shouldn’t stop, but he could see two people in the parlor, so Sarah wasn’t alone, although it was past ten. Perhaps Louisa had stayed. She wouldn’t be the best chaperone but enough for propriety.

  Tim tapped lightly at the door.

  Sarah opened it, holding Rose to her shoulder. “Dr. Dawes, whatever is wrong?” She opened the door for him.

  “Can we talk?” He choked out the words.

  “Oh, I’ll take Rose.”

  Not until she spoke did Tim realize who sat in the room. “Miss Page, I am sorry. Am I interrupting?”

  Parmelia lifted the baby from Sarah’s shoulder. “Oh no, Miss Marden and I were just discussing cooking.”

  “Miss Page is going to live here for a few days. Come, sit. Do you need tea? What happened?” Sarah bit her lip.

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t have come. But I need to talk …”

  Sarah took his hand and led him to a chair. “Tim, whatever is wrong?”

  What had possessed him to come? Looking at the worry on Sarah’s face, he was sure he had made a mistake. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ––”

  Sarah put her hands on her hips. “Timison George Dawes, you’ve heard the very darkest secrets of my soul. I don’t care what you need to say, you just say it.” She pulled over the ottoman and perched herself on it.

  “I had to amputate Dr. Morten’s leg. There was an infection in the bone.”

  “Oh no, Tim.” Sarah wrapped her arms around him and held him while he wept.

  This was exactly why he had come. Sarah was the only one he could tell how much it hurt to be a doctor. Holding her was better medicine than man had ever invented. If he could come home to her each night, he could face the most difficult of days.

  Sarah pulled back and wiped his tears. “Will it save his life?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Then you did a good thing.”

  “It is just so hard. I almost want to join my brother in the shipping trade.”

  Sarah shook a finger at him. “Don’t you dare. I know you. Right now you are counting all the losses, but think about how many lives you’ve saved just since you have been here.”

  “But what about—”

  Sarah gave him a look that would have had all the eight-year-old miscreants in town shaking in their boots. She reached down and removed her slippers. “Close your eyes for a minute.”

  Her skirts rustled, tempting him to peek, but he didn’t.

  “Open them. I’ve worn my regular shoes since Independence Day. Look at my feet. If you hadn’t insisted I take care of them, I might have lost a toe, or worse.” Sarah wiggled her toes. “That night you wouldn’t let me walk outside when you brought me home with three bricks at my feet.” Sarah raised her foot. “Feel them. They are well. And you saved my little nieces.”

  Tim ran his finger down the small toe he had been sure would need to come off, then set her foot back on the floor.

  Sarah covered her foot with her skirt. “You saved them. When you insisted I change my boots in the first place, I thought you were just trying to tell me what to do like a little child, but I knew you wouldn’t let me go until I changed. I have my feet because of you.” She brought her hand to his cheek. “Don’t. You. Ever. Forget.”

  He mirrored her actions. Sarah’s skin was so soft as he rubbed his thumb along her cheek. The familiar desire to kiss her filled him. He leaned down, but she pulled back.

  “I think you should go now, Dr. Dawes.”

  Tim left a more confident doctor but a lonelier man.

  The clock ticked in the hallway, counting out the seconds. Sarah ran through the last few moments of Tim’s visit. Perhaps she should have been brave one last time. He’d wanted to kiss her … hadn’t he?

  Sarah had to be wrong. The amputation had upset him. That had to be it. Hadn’t Lucy said men got all confused when they had difficult days? And like a little boy with a scraped knee, they just needed a few kisses.

  She needed a few kisses.

  But then she wouldn’t leave with John.

  Rose made a mewing sound in her sleep.

  Would John let her take Rose?

  Thirty-eight

  “We are leaving Monday morning, first thing. I need your answer. Tucker, the boy who has been helping me on the farm, is coming with me, so we’ll drive two wagons. But you still can’t bring too much. Only the necessities.” John sat across from Sarah in the parlor.

  The day had really come. Here was her chance to leave the North Shore forever. “What about Rose?”

  “She isn’t your responsibility. If you come, I’ll need your help.”

  Sarah shifted the baby on her lap. “I thought Lettie was going with you. Isn’t she help enough?”

  John crossed his arms and harrumphed. “Who do you think I need your help with? Tucker has been following her around like she is freshly baked gingerbread.”

  “Does Samuel know?”

  “Of course he does. Why do you think I need you to watch them?”

  Sarah tipped her head to look him in the eye. “So if my main purpose would be to watch your children and Lettie, who will be doing the cooking, why can’t I bring Rose?”

  “She isn’t your child. If yours had lived, he’d be the age of my little boy. Is he the reason you wouldn’t marry me?”

  “John, that topic is forever off-limits. You’ve always known I don’t feel for you the way I did for your brother. Mark wasn’t your twin, but he looked enough like you that when I look at you, I see him. If you think I’m going to Indiana to have you or Joe try to take his place, I swear I’ll—”

  Parmelia’s entrance into the house saved Sarah from coming up with a threat. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.”

  John stood to greet her.

  “This is John Wilson, one of Samuel’s brothers, and we were just discussing the move to Indiana. This is Miss Parmelia Page. She is staying here for a few days.”

  “Oh, Indiana. I read a pamphlet about it. The farming is excellent and so many trees. So exciting opening a new frontier where no one has ever lived—well, other than the Indians. You must be so excited.”

  “I am. However, Sarah doesn’t share your enthusiasm.” At the door, John put on his hat, then looked at Sarah. “I need to know by morning.”

  Once John had left, Parmelia fanned herself. “I’ve seen him at church but never met him. He is more intense than his brother.”

  “John is really a very nice person, especially when he is around his twin, Joe. But this summer has pushed him to the limits with everything.”

&nbs
p; Parmelia took off her hat.

  “Did you find a position?”

  “No, but I did get a letter off to my aunt. I hope to hear back early next week. But to be honest, I would rather trade you places and not go to Boston.”

  It had been a long night at the Morton house. Tim and Mrs. Morton took turns at the doctor’s side. Every time Tim closed his eyes, he saw Sarah rejecting his kiss. How could he carve a piece of wood he couldn’t even hold?

  Dr. Morton groaned. “I never liked being on the giving end of an amputation. I can’t say I like them much better on this end either.”

  “Would you like some water?” When the man nodded, Tim raised him up enough to sip from a cup.

  “Where is my wife?”

  “I believe she is sleeping in the room next door. Shall I get her?”

  “No. Let her sleep. You should go get some sleep too. Sitting here worrying isn’t going to make anything heal faster.”

  “I was thinking more than worrying.”

  “About my offer or Miss Marden?”

  “Miss Marden. I had already decided to take your offer before last night.”

  “I am mighty glad of that. You know it will be months before I can do much more than consult. Too bad I read every copy of every medical journal I owned when I broke this leg. I may need to start in on Mrs. Morton’s British romances. Maybe then I can give you some advice on the girl, but from what I’ve witnessed, nothing works quite like just saying the words.”

  Tim thought of all the words he had bottled up inside.

  “Stop thinking so hard. It is only three words, not some Shakespearean play. I’ve seen it work for married folk, too. They can be all mad at each other because the husband did something stupid and broke some bone, then he says ‘I love you,’ and his wife starts crying and vowing to care for him. Works every time.” Dr. Morton closed his eyes. “The sooner you do it, the better.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Mrs. Morton came in the room. Tim endured a scolding for not waking her up, then left the house. He ran his hand down his face. He needed a shave before he went and talked to Sarah.

  Halfway home, John Wilson hailed him. “Have you found a place for the baby yet?”

  “No, we haven’t.”

  “Better do it by Monday. I’m not taking a baby to Indiana, too.”

  So Sarah had made her choice.

  Sorting her life into three piles—Indiana, leave with Lucy, and leave behind—did little to brighten her mood.

  Rose was in the last category. “Hey, sweet girl, I wish we could find someone to love you. John says you can’t come. But I can’t stay. We are in a pickle, aren’t we?” The sleeping baby didn’t answer.

  Voices from downstairs carried up to her room.

  “Sarah?”

  Lucy and Samuel had come to town? Sarah ran down the stairs and into her sister’s arms. “So, you are really going?”

  “What else can I do? If I stay here, I’ll end up like Dorcas Smith. The rumors aren’t as bad as I thought yet, but by the time church ends tomorrow, everyone will be looking at me like I should be tried at a Salem trial.”

  Rose started to cry. Parmelia beat Sarah to the stairs. “Go talk with your sister. I can take care of her.”

  Sarah led the way into the parlor. “So, what brings you into town?”

  Lucy removed her bonnet. “We needed some more thread and sundries for Lettie, and I wanted to see you. Tomorrow with Thomas Jr.’s and Carrie’s families, there will be too many people to talk.”

  They all took their seats.

  The room started to blur. “Saying goodbye is so hard.”

  “That isn’t why we came, pumpkin.”

  “We think you are making the wrong choice, and, as you know, it is hard to undo some choices. We didn’t say anything four years ago, nor did we really listen to what you wanted. I vowed to not make my little sister’s choices, but I can’t let you go without telling you once that I feel like you are probably making the biggest mistake of your life.”

  “What mistake? I am not breaking any commandments. I am going to a place where I can hold up my head again.”

  Lucy took Sarah’s hand. “But you are living a lie.”

  “No, I am not. I’ve lived a lie for the past four years!”

  “This is a different lie. I’ve watched it grow since the day Emma and Anna were born. Samuel says it was there before I noticed.”

  Sarah closed her eyes. She was not going to fight with her sister on her last day. “What are you talking about? I haven’t lied to anyone.”

  “You are lying to yourself.”

  Sarah looked from Lucy to Samuel. What were they talking about? “I don’t understand.”

  “Dr. Timison Dawes—the boy you once claimed smelled like barn cats so you wouldn’t kiss him, which, considering that was twenty years ago, you made a wise choice.” Lucy smiled. “I’ve watched you pretend not to pay attention to him for two months.”

  “But I can’t. I am not good enough for him.”

  Samuel rested a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I don’t think you are the one who gets to decide that.”

  “But he told me how he feels about the camp followers and women with loose morals. Am I any different?” Sarah looked to Samuel for an answer.

  “Wednesday night he asked my permission to court you. Thursday night he drove you to a meeting which, thanks to Reverend Palmer’s quick actions, did not end up as any of us feared. Those are not the actions of a man who is putting you in the same group as camp followers.”

  “Wednesday night? As in the night I came out to confess to the two of you?” The kiss that didn’t happen on Thursday night replayed in her mind. What if Tim had been trying to start a courtship?

  “But I haven’t seen him since late Thursday night.”

  “When was that? After we talked to Reverend Palmer, I brought you home.”

  “After Parmelia came, because she got tossed out of the boardinghouse.”

  Lucy nodded. “So that is why she is here.”

  “You were saying he came by late?” prompted Samuel.

  “After ten. He had to amputate Dr. Morton’s leg. He was so upset.”

  Lucy and Samuel exchanged a knowing look.

  “Nothing happened! I mean, I hugged him and told him he’d saved my foot. I did show it to him, but he only saw from my ankle down. I was very careful—didn’t let him kiss me or anything.” Sarah felt her face warm.

  “Some older sister wisdom: You were the person Tim sought out when he was at his very lowest. You were the one he wanted to be with. You. If you care for him as much as I think you do, then you should stay. Don’t live a second lifetime of regrets.”

  “But he hasn’t been by.”

  “Most likely he has been with patients or Dr. Morton ever since,” said Samuel.

  “That isn’t it. He tried to kiss me, and I stepped back.”

  “Samuel, cover your ears. I am going to give my sister some advice.”

  Samuel walked over to the window, his hands over his ears.

  “I can’t believe I am telling you this. But sometimes you need to take matters into your own hands—or lips.”

  Samuel laughed.

  Sarah knew she’d turned as red as an apple.

  “We would love to stay longer, but we left the babies with Lettie and Louisa, and we must get back.”

  “That reminds me. John said he needed me to watch Tucker and Lettie. Aren’t you worried?”

  Samuel shook his head. “Tucker has already asked me for her hand. But he promised to wait until she turns seventeen and they find a minister. He wants his own place before they marry.”

  “In her case, I advised her not to do any kissing.” Lucy laughed, and they all joined in.

  Thirty-nine

  The gossips were talking more about John Wilson leaving for Indiana in the morning than they were the revelations from the school-board meeting. Tim knew he shouldn’t be trying to listen to the tittle-tattl
e before church started, but he wanted to know how bad it went for Sarah.

  He tried not to look at her but couldn’t resist. She had tied up that ridiculous veil as Seth kept trying to yank it off her head. It looked like every Wilson in the state had turned out for services. No doubt a big family dinner was to be held that afternoon. How was he ever going to get a chance to tell her goodbye—or anything else?

  Reverend Palmer stood and gave the announcements, read intentions of some couple Tim didn’t know, and reminded everyone to pray for the harvest. Tim stood and sang the hymn and watched the antics in the Wilson pew. They had brought Emma and Anna to church, and Sarah had Rose with her, whom she had already passed off to Miss Page, who sat across the aisle in Mrs. Garrett’s nearly empty pew.

  Three and a half minutes into the sermon, a child’s scream erupted in the Wilson pew. Sarah picked up Stella and hurried out of the church.

  “Didn’t I yell good, Aunt Sarah?” asked Stella as she wiggled down.

  A little too good. “You did very well. Now let’s go back to the privy.”

  “But I don’t need to go!”

  “Remember, we are going to play a hiding game. I need you to hide in there just long enough to eat this.” Sarah produced a candy stick. Stella took it and hurried to play their game.

  Please work, please work. Sarah prayed her deception would bring Tim out. A very wicked thing to do on the Sabbath, but he hadn’t come around last night, and tomorrow would be too late. Unless she just stayed.

  “Sarah? Is Stella ill?”

  Sarah turned at the sound of the voice she had been hoping to hear. “No, she is just in the privy.”

  “You’re certain? She sounded like she’d injured herself.”

  Sarah took three steps closer to Tim. “But I am glad you came out here. I wanted to see you.” Sarah’s heart raced. She took another step. Almost close enough.

  Tim didn’t move. “I wanted to see you too.”

  Uncertainty filled her. Be brave!

  Sarah took one more step and closed the gap, then rose up on her tiptoes—and hit Tim in the nose with the rim of her bonnet.

  She fell back on her heels and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  Tim lifted her chin and untied the bonnet, sliding it back a couple of inches. “Perhaps if you tried that again.” His hands slid down her arms to support her elbows.