By Way of the Rose (31 page)

John stayed in the forefront of Sarah's thoughts. She often wondered if he were safe, She had to keep busy, keep from worrying, and not allow herself to think of the danger. She would think of the mighty work. She would be strong.

A month passed. Then two and John still wasn't back. He'd write quick postcards to her which was a great comfort. But she longed to see him. It was well into the middle of October, three months since John had left, when the postcards stopped coming all together! She longed to one day open the door and see him smiling down at her. To hold her in his arms.

On this crisp autumn day in November, Sarah and Doug walked through the park, arm in arm. The trees were on fire with a thrilling kaleidoscope of colors. The ground was a carpet of leaves. The fall season had begun and Sarah welcomed it. She thought autumn was the finest of the seasons because, as she saw it, Ol’ Sol, was on his finest behavior then. Unlike winter's cold, summer's heat and spring's indecision, fall was just right, so she had concluded that fall was, by far the better season. “It's such a beautiful day,” Sarah breathed deeply, “I hope this good weather will hold out.”

“Don't worry, I think it will.”

Doug's eyes sparkled when he looked at her and Sarah looked away, she felt the heat in her cheeks. Was she blushing? What an odd feeling. What was this? It couldn't be love? Surly not! She wasn't in love with Doug! No, she couldn't be. John was her one true love, her ideal.

Doug must have noticed her faraway look as he jokingly nudged her with his elbow. “A penny for yer thoughts. What's goin’ on up there in that pretty bonnet of yers?” He grinned down at her.

“Nothing, just enjoying myself and my company. I am easily lost on such a day as this.”

“Yer mind left to wander, is it? I must make sure that doesn't happen too often, I'll be feelin’ like bad company.”

“Oh no, it's your company that I enjoy the most.” She breathed deeply, “You must know, without you, this time away from John would have been unbearable for me.”

“Glad, I am, to hear I can be of some comfort to ya.”

The dark haired man stood in Mr. Tyson's office. His square jaw clinched and his gray brown eyes had a look of urgency. “Sir. I have a message from a Mr. Frank down in Alabama.”

“What is it?”

“Seems like your helper here, John DuVal is in a pickle, got caught.”

“What are you talking about?” Mr. Tyson took his cigar from his mouth and sat forward. “Is he all right?”

“The way I hear it, someone caught him helping a little slave boy escape. Frank wanted me to get the message to you. DuVal somehow got away from the lynch mob, but he's stuck down there, in a corner for sure.”

“Thank you for letting me know. That boy is like a son to me! Tell him to sit tight, do not move. I'll think of something!” Mr. Tyson bit on the tip of his cigar.

It was later that same day that Mr. Tyson called Doug for a meeting. “I understand John trusts you a great deal.”

“Yes, sir. He does. “

“Well, I have something I want you to do for him.”

“What?”

“Get his sister home where she belongs.”

“What's wrong?” Doug's expression grew dark.

“There could be danger for her here. John's been caught down in Alabama. Mr. Frank sent word. He saved John from a lynch mob and now the boy's holed up at his place. The mob have the impression that John is dead, and we must let it stand. No one can know what really happened, not even Sarah. Do you understand? To everyone outside this room, John is missing and presumed dead!”

“Yes, Sir. I understand.”

“There's a train leaving at noon today. I want Sarah on it. You'll escort her home, but you will come back on the very next train back here.”

“Yes, sir... I'll see to it.”

Sarah's face went pale as she looked at Doug. “W— what are you saying to me?” Tears flooded down her cheeks.

“John is missin'. We think he's been killed.” He looked at her helplessly. It was more then he could bear to have to lie to her. He felt his heart tearing as the pain in her deep brown eyes intensified.

“No! This can't be happening!” She fell into Doug's arms.

“Shush... I'm here.” Doug spoke softly. Sarah closed her eyes. She pictured John's face smiling down at her. She remembered the feel of his arms holding her close.
He can't leave me... he just can't.
This can't be real. God, please, let me wake up from this nightmare!

Doug rushed to get Sarah ready for her trip. She packed her things and he loaded them on the carriage. By noon they were sitting on the train as it pulled away from the station. Sarah remembered when she and John had first arrived here. How wonderful it was. She looked over at Doug and he smiled at her. She turned away. It was too much to bear. She wanted to yell and scream at him.
Why not you instead of my John! Why are you here and he's gone! Why couldn't it have been you!
She looked down at the locket John had given her. She opened it and looked at the picture of him smiling back at her. This was all she had of him anymore. No she couldn't believe it! He must be out there somewhere! He must be alive! She wasn't going to believe that he was dead. Never! “How will I ever be able to tell the folks about John?”

“Ya don't have to. I sent them a telegram before we left.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Yer're welcome.”

“I'm sorry I'm distant. You've been a wonderful friend to John and me. Faithful and kind.”

“I wasn't faithful.” Doug looked away.

“What?”

“I can't help it Sarah. I love ya! It's time to clear my conscience. When John left he told me he loved ya, and I know deep down that you love him too. I begrudged John that he had yer heart and I knew I could never win it. Now that he's gone, all I can think of is ya! Not seein’ ya every day. Not lookin’ into yer eyes, not havin’ ya with me! I love ya and I can't help it!”

Sarah was shocked. If she didn't control herself, she could have slapped him. Slapped him hard. “Why didn't you tell me that John said he loved me before now?” Her tone was cold and angry.

“I promised John.”

“And now you think with John out of the way, I would just forget him and begin a courtship with you?”

“All I can think of now is that I am free to pursue ya. I feel horrible! I'm sorry, please forgive me!”

Before she could think she felt her hand whip across his face. She felt her stomach tighten up as she realized what she'd done. She gasped as she looked at her hand in disbelief. “I— I need some air.” Sarah stood and walked to the end of the train. She watched as the tracks sped by. Even though it was a warm November day, Sarah felt chilled. She couldn't wait to be off this train. The only thing that gave her comfort was the thought that Greta and Shane would be waiting for her at the end of the tracks.

Sarah stepped from the train. When she saw her friends she suddenly realized how very much she had missed them and flew towards them. She threw her arms around both of them at the same time. “Oh, how I've missed you two!” She cried.

“This town hasn't been the same without you!” Shane's voice quivered.

“He's gone Greta, John is gone!” Sarah cried as she lay her head on her best friend's shoulder.

Greta hugged her tightly. “I heard, Sarah. I'm so sorry.”

When Sarah turned to introduce her friends to Doug, he was gone. Her heart sank. She hadn't had time to get her emotions straight before he'd left. Everything seemed to an unreal blur right now. She felt sorry for taking her anger out on her dear friend; one that she had come to care for deeply.
John should have let me know how he felt. It wasn't Doug's place. He was a true friend to the both of us

Sarah stayed with Greta the entire week after she'd returned. They'd talk till the wee hours of the morning then wake at dawn to start their day. Greta's children were a handful, and there were many chores, but Sarah was thankful for the busy days. They kept her mind off her troubles. Yet late in the evenings, when her memories had time to surface, the weight of grief came down on her. This was when she was most thankful for Greta's company. She knew she couldn't stay with Greta forever though, so she finally went home.

When Sarah awoke in her old bed, in her old room, her heart felt as if a ten ton boulder were crushing it. Her chest was tight and her breathing shallow. She tried in vain to completely fill her lungs with air. She slowly stood from the bed and walked to her wash basin. She splashed her face with cool water then walked to the window and opened it. The November air washed over her, only then could she take in a full breath. ]From the window she saw the dry parched land as it loomed bleak before her. The cotton stalks, dead and brown. Some still holding the white fluffy wads of what was a crop failure. The first the DuVals had ever suffered. Looking over the gloom, Sarah missed the view from her bedroom window in Rochester. The vibrant reds, yellows, pinks and whites. A lush, fertile rose garden alive with color, their delicious fragrance hanging in the air and filling her nostrils like some rich and exotic perfume. How could she bear life here again? Through her blurry tear dimmed eyes she saw someone walking in the distance. It was Shane. Her pain eased,
I've still got Shane and Greta. My dearest friends.
She smiled as she watched him come nearer. His boyish stride had changed little from when they were children. The early morning sun glistened on his dark blonde hair. She noticed she was still in her night dress and hurried to get dressed before he got there. She swiped the brush through her thick black hair a few times then rushed downstairs just as he was tapping on the door.

His blue eyes sparkled as they met Sarah's. “Mornin,'” he cut her a crooked grin.

She smiled back. “What brings you around at this hour?”

“Do I need a reason?” He chuckled.

“Oh, no. No, you don't ever need a reason. I was just wondering if there was one.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in and have a seat and enjoy a cup of coffee with me.”

“Who are you talking to, Sarah?” Marion called from the kitchen.

“It's Shane.”

“Tell him breakfast is about ready. He's just in time.”

Sarah led Shane to the parlor where they took their seats. “You're looking better, Sarah. I don't mind telling you, I was worried as anything about you when I saw you get off that train.” Shane fumbled with his hat as he looked to the floor. “I missed you so much while you were gone.”

Sarah noticed him clutching the hat tighter. She reached out and touched his hand. “I missed you too. You and Greta both.” She let out a deep sigh. “But you and Greta are the only things I missed about this place.”

“I suppose Rochester does have a lot more to do and see.”

“Beautiful things! It's so different. And the roses! They were so wonderful. Every morning I woke to their beauty. Now I wake to a dried field of putrid cotton!”

“Well, cotton is kind of pretty in its own way.”

“I'd like to know what way that is,” Sarah huffed. “I know cotton. I've picked it, I've planted it, I've hoed it and believe me, there's nothing pretty about those finger gouging demons!”

“Sometimes you just have to look for the beauty in a thing. Roses have finger gouging thorns too.” Shane cut her a devious smile as he shook his head.

“Oh, hush up!” She playfully swatted at him.

After breakfast, they walked out to enjoy the sunny, cool day together. The leaves on the old oak tree were tattered and falling down as if they were tired of hanging on. She knew that before long the limbs would be naked and jutting out from the old tree like gnarled fingers against the sky. Sarah caught a leaf as it was floating to the ground. “Look at that.” She twisted it toward Shane. “Every color of fall is in this one leaf.”

“Winter is brown and summer green, but fall is the prettiest season I've seen!” Shane recited Sarah's childhood poem.

“Oh, you remembered! I had forgotten it. That was so long ago! Back when we were just little children. How could you remember that silly little poem?”

“I don't forget anything you say.” His eyes sparkled down at her.

“I know. Sometimes I say things I wish you would forget,” she said.

Later on Shane paid Sarah another visit. When she came to the door she saw him standing with his hat in one hand and the other tucked behind his back. An impish grin was sprawled across his face. “What's with you?” Sarah looked puzzled.

“I just came by to bring you this.” He said as he brought forth a bouquet of cotton stalks that he'd gleaned from the dry fields. A large pink ribbon adorned them.

“What in the world?” Sarah chuckled as she reached for the cotton.

“I don't have roses to bring you except these which are roses of the South.”

Sarah looked at him and then to the cotton. Suddenly she saw the white fluffy boles in a way she'd never seen them before. They did look like fluffy white roses. When she looked back at Shane a warm feeling filled her heart. Only he could have ever made her see the beauty in something as simple as cotton! “They're beautiful, Shane! They're truly beautiful. I love them. Thank you so much for bringing them.”

“I know they aren't as pretty as your northern roses, but... ”

“No, Shane! These are prettier. Really, I'm seeing them for the first time as something other than back-breaking, toiling work. Now I see them as a thoughtful gift from a loving and dear friend who wanted to show me their beauty. There's nothing more beautiful in all the world than that, not even in Rochester.”

“Care to go for a walk?”

“I'd love to and let's take that walk through our southern rose garden.” They both laughed.

The seasons changed as winter came roaring in. Daniel and Marion had to use every bit of money that had been saved for winter supplies because the crops hadn't done well. There had been very little rain and the summer had been scorching. The vegetables had dried in the sun so there was little to nothing to store up or sell. They had lost John and with him, the money they had come to rely on.

Sarah took a job with Mrs. Hamilton, the local seamstress. She made a dollar a week which she seemed to stretch farther than humanly possible. She searched for bargains and ways to make every cent count. She'd take two eggs and make a skillet full of scrambled eggs by adding a little milk and flour to them. The extra eggs could be sold. The twins were outgrowing their shoes, yet she couldn't seem to save enough money. Sarah was thankful that her own feet had stopped growing. That's when it hit her that the twins shoes could be made to fit them. She cut the toes out. Now they could wear them in comfort with heavy knitted socks.