Sarah's Surrender (15 page)

“Mornin',” Mrs. Peterson called out. She poured a cup of coffee and held it out to her.

She gladly accepted the warm cup. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Peterson glanced up at Luke as she bent to stir a massive cast iron skillet filled with eggs. “You wanna'nother cup?”

“No, ma'am. It was mighty good though.”

“I reckon you're wantin' breakfast. Be ready in a few minutes.”

Sarah stared at the stack of bacon, plates of biscuits, and huge bowl of peaches. The Peterson family sure liked to eat. “Would you please let me know when you're finished, and I'll start on our breakfast.”

Mrs. Peterson straightened, wrapped her hand in her apron, and then picked up the heavy skillet and carried it to the wagon's tailgate, which had become a sideboard.

Sarah's stomach grumbled. She'd just planned on making a stack of pancakes. She longed to run up the hill and see what the men had gotten done, but that was silly since they'd only just started on her house an hour ago.

Grabbing two plates off the stack on the tailgate, Mrs. Peterson turned and then walked toward her and Luke. She stuck out the plates. “No need for you to cook. I've made plenty. He'p yourself before my men get here and eat everythin' in sight.”

“Are you sure? That's very kind of you.” Sarah glanced at Luke and wiggled her eyebrows as she passed him a tin plate.

“I halfta cook, so there's no sense in us both doin' it. I wouldn't mind if you wanted to contribute to the food stocks and help a bit, though.”

“I'm happy to do so. Should I go tell your family now the food's ready?”

“No need.” The woman waddled to the front of the wagon where she'd hung a large iron triangle and ran a rod around inside it, setting off a clamor. “They'll be here in a jiffy. You'd better dish up.”

Luke handed his plate to Mrs. Peterson. “You go first.”

The woman blushed under her already pink cheeks. “Aren't you the gentleman.” She accepted his offering and winked at Sarah. “You'd better lasso and hog-tie this'n before he gets away. He's a keeper.”

Luke straightened and puffed out his chest as he grinned at Sarah. “D'you hear that? I'm a keeper.”

She teasingly nudged his side with her elbow, hoping to deflate his ego, and then she stepped in front of him and dished up her plate. “Be that as it may, I beat you to the food.”

He took another plate, leaned against her shoulder, and sniffed, sending odd tingles racing through her at his nearness. If she turned, she'd be only an inch or two from his cheek. She sidestepped and placed a biscuit on her plate then a small spoon of peaches. “Where's Jack and Cody? I haven't seen them.”

Luke laid a half dozen slices of bacon on his plate. “He took Cody down to the creek to wash up. The boy wet himself last night.”

“I wonder if it was the excitement of sleeping in a tent or something else. As far as I know he hasn't done that in a while.”

“Don't know.”

“I hope they get back in time to eat. I wonder if I should fix them a plate.”

“You go right ahead and do that,” Mrs. Peterson said. “But do it fast. Here come my men.”

Sarah glanced over her shoulder then handed her plate to Luke and stepped around him, grabbing two more plates. By the time she'd filled them, a herd of Petersons had galloped into camp. The twins smiled at her, tipping their hats in unison. Had they planned that or did they always do things at the same time?

Johnny stopped next to the wagon and smiled at her. “You gonna eat all that?” With his fair hair and hazel eyes, he looked more like Amos than the twins. Mrs. Peterson had warned her that her youngest three boys—as she called the big, strapping men—were looking to marry. Amos had a wife and two daughters living in El Reno. Because the youngest was only four months old, they hadn't come on this trip.

Sarah sat next to Luke on the end of a bench someone had moved near the campfire. Had he purposely sat in the middle so one of the other men wouldn't sit beside her? If so, it was a considerate thing for him to do. She laid the two plates on the far end of the bench, liking how he watched out for her and protected her, but did she care enough to marry him? Although she'd turned him down, the idea kept rising to the top of her thoughts like cream in a milk bucket.

Maybe after her house was built she'd feel differently.

Three days after the start of construction, Sarah sat in the buggy next to Luke and stretched her gaze towards town. When she returned, she hoped to see the skeleton of her house rising from the foundation. She was glad she had made arrangements in advance for the Petersons to purchase and bring the wood for the house. With all the construction happening in Anadarko, she might have had a long wait to get her hands on any precut lumber.

As much as she enjoyed watching the progress, she needed this trip to town. She hadn't planned well enough for the meals she'd expected to share with Jack, Luke, and Cody and needed to lay in some more supplies. It had been a blessing when Zelma—as Mrs. Peterson had asked her to call her—had invited her to join them for meals. Sarah smiled, proud of herself for learning the art of cooking on an open fire, but she still needed more provisions for her and her men. Bacon and fresh eggs were on her list as well as some smoked meat, potatoes, and fresh vegetables, if any were to be had.

The sound of hammering greeted them as they drove into Anadarko. She glanced behind her to see Cody playing in the back with some wooden animals his pa had carved for him last year. With her watching his son, Jack was free to help with the house and not worry about him.

“Your pancakes were real good.” Luke smiled.

“Thank you. I'm so glad Zelma offered to let us eat with them. I've learned a lot from her.” She chuckled. “Zelma has told me several times, ‘Hungry men are unhappy men.'”

Luke flicked a glance at her. “I figured as much. I had my mind prepared that all we'd get to eat was pancakes. Pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and supper—and not nearly as good as this morning's were.”

“Very funny.” She nudged him in the side, not wanting to admit how close to the truth he was. “Zelma said the key to good pancakes is buttermilk. So, what are you going to do while I shop?”

“Check and see if there are any new notices posted of lots for sale.”

“Have you tried looking in a newspaper?”

He turned the wagon, guiding it down another street. “No, but that's a great idea, if I can find one.”

“Do you know where any general stores are? I haven't spent enough time here to locate one.”

He nodded. “I saw a sign for one yesterday. It's up ahead.”

He guided the horses to the side of East Oklahoma Street in front of the Anadarko General Store—a store in a tent—then stopped and set the brake. He jumped down and hurried around to help her descend the wagon. She bent and reached for his shoulders as he cupped her around the waist then easily lifted her to the ground. They locked eyes, and she smiled her thanks, momentarily stunned by the affection in his gaze. Then he stepped back, breaking the brief moment. Rattled, she turned to Cody. “Ready to do some shopping?”

The boy looked less than enthused.

“You want me to take him?”

Cody's blue eyes brightened and he jumped up. “Yeah, can I go with Luke?”

His excitement to join Luke instead of her was a disappointment, but it would allow her to focus on her task and finish quicker. She loved going into a store and smelling all of the fresh scents and seeing the new fabrics and what all was available. “Of course, if that's what you prefer.”

The boy shrugged, looking serious. “Shopping is for ladies.”

Luke chuckled, and she shot him a glare. “Men shop for things, too. In fact, Luke is shopping for land, but it's fine for you to accompany him.”

“Yippee!” He leaped from the wagon, forcing Luke to adjust his stance and catch him in midair.

“I shouldn't be too long. If I'm not here when you get finished”—she waved her hand in the air— “check the stores nearby. I won't go far, but I'd like to see what's available here in case I forgot to order something I need for the house.”

Luke tipped his hat to her, and he and Cody headed down the street. Anyone who didn't know them would assume Luke was the boy's father. He'd make a good father—a fun one—someday. She swallowed a lump in her throat at the thought then turned her attention to shopping. Nothing like a long shopping list to get a woman's thoughts off of a man.

At the store she paused at the entryway to inhale the scents of spices, coffee, leather, and so many other things. As she wandered the aisles of the tent, she checked to see what the place had to offer, as well as the prices. She'd read in the newspaper that in some start-up towns, storeowners were charging inflated prices, but this one seemed to be fair.

After studying the list of smoked meat available that was posted at the counter, she ordered a large ham and two slabs of bacon.

The clerk, a man she'd guess was in his fifties, marked it on a piece of paper then looked up. “A woman traded me some full-grown hens this morning if you're in the market for some.”

She tapped her lip, thinking. Plucking a hen wasn't her favorite task, but they made for good eating. “I hadn't thought to buy any until my henhouse was built, but they would taste good for supper. Do you have a cage for them?”

“Got some wooden crates with enough holes for air but not so many that they could escape.”

“Good. I'll take six then, and just enough feed to last a week.” That way they could enjoy another chicken meal later in the week. Three hens for tonight and three for next time. “Do you have any fresh eggs or milk?”

He removed his wire-framed spectacles and wiped them with a rag he pulled from under the counter. “Got a couple dozen eggs that came in this morning, but I'm plumb outta milk.”

“Do you have three dozen?”

“Just barely.”

“Good. I'll take them, too, and a hunk of that cheese behind you.”

The man nodded then walked into the back of the store. Sarah strolled the aisles, making sure there wasn't something she'd forgotten. It amazed her that with the town being so new, the storeowner had had time to get all these supplies sent to Anadarko and set up so quickly. She paused at the canned foods, carried several cans of applesauce, peaches, and apples to the counter, then returned for some green beans. She much preferred them fresh, but canned would do in a pinch.

She needed to show Zelma her cornfield, and she probably should water it and pick the new ears that were ready. Muttering a prayer for God to bless the people who'd planted it, she walked to the bins that held the fresh food. If she got more ears than she could use, she could bring them and trade for other things.

The store had a supply of carrots, onions, and turnips. After carrying what she wanted to the counter, she added a bushel of potatoes to her list.

“I should've introduced myself,” the clerk said as he strode back into the store, carrying her ham and bacon in a box. “My name's Theodore Moore. My wife, Betty, helps me at times, but she's doing the washing today.”

“A pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm Sarah Worley. I've got a homestead not far from town.”

“Is there a Mr. Worley?”

Her cheeks warmed. “No, there isn't.”

He rubbed his chin. “I heard some females won land, but you're the first I've met. Mighty brave of you to set up housekeeping in such a rugged place.”

She smiled. This part of the territory didn't seem all that much rougher than where Gabe and Lara lived, except that she had no home, well, or other basics she needed, but they would come in time. “Here's the list of the rest of the things I need. Could I leave it while I visit some other stores?”

“Sure can. I'll have it ready in a short while, providing I don't get overly busy with customers.”

“Thank you. I'll return shortly.” She smiled and walked out the door. Looking to her left and then her right, she wondered where to go next. She couldn't afford to buy much, only things absolutely necessary, but that didn't mean she couldn't browse. She took a step to her right and noticed a handsome, well-dressed man and a young boy walking toward her. The man smiled and tipped his hat, but the boy stopped suddenly, staring at her with wide eyes and open mouth. Suddenly his eyes sparked and he ran toward her. “Mama!”

S
arah braced herself as the boy collided with her skirts and hugged her. She lifted her stunned eyes to his father's. The man hadn't moved a step, and the color had fled his tanned face. His confused gaze locked with hers.

Not knowing what to do, she reached down and patted the boy's head. He'd held on to her as if she actually were his mother and he hadn't seen her in weeks. Where was his mother? Why would he think she was her?