Read By Way of the Rose Online

Authors: Cynthia Ward Weil

Tags: #Fiction

By Way of the Rose (38 page)

BOOK: By Way of the Rose
9.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Sarah was awakened by a sharp pain in her back. It reached around to her front. Soon another wave of pain swept over her. She screamed out into the coldness of dawn. “Dear Lord, what's happening, don't take the little one! I need you little one! Please hang on... just hang on. I'll rest for a few days... you'll be fine. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me.” Another wave of pain made Sarah bite into her lip until blood filled her mouth from the gash it caused.

The baby came despite her pleas. It was so small it fit in the palm of her hand. She saw its tiny arms and legs. Its small face. “Oh, how I would have loved you!” She cried. “I would have loved you! I did love you!” She cried out again. It was almost too much for her to bear. Should she just give up, lay down here and die with her child? Would anyone ever miss either one of them? “What is there to be strong for now?” She felt empty... like a big chunk of herself was missing.

“How much pain and suffering is one person supposed to bear? God tell me... what am I supposed to do now?”

A soft gentle breeze whispered around her and she felt it again. The presence that had been with her from the start. It seemed to say to her: ‘finish it... go on. Your life is just ahead. You're going to find it. Don't quit now.’

Sarah made a cradle of leaves and gently laid the child down and pushed the dirt around it as if she were wrapping it in an earthen blanket. The tears streamed down her face. She took a deep breath and rose to her feet. Something urged her onward. “I will not give up!” She stood and walked away. A stream of sorrowful tears trailed behind her as she purposefully faced the west.

The cold winds and the aching in Sarah's heart slowed her steps. She was not making as much ground as she had been. The cold winds whipped around her and chilled her to the bone.

She stumbled to her knees. “If I must go on,” she prayed, “I need some help... I don't know how much longer I can do this. Have mercy, help me! I won't lose faith... but when does this end? I'm so very tired and cold and I hurt, God... I hurt so bad in my heart and body.”

As if in answer to her prayers she heard the sound of a wagon coming. She staggered upright as it pulled beside her and stopped.

“Are you all right there?” The man's voice was muffled from all the layers of wraps about his face. Sarah could see nothing but his dark compassionate eyes as they stared down at her.

“I'm trying my best to be all right, but I fear I'm going to die before I get to where I'm going.”

“Is that right? Well, where you headed?”

“Um, west.”

“I'll do everything I can to save your life. I'd hate to see ya die right here on this cold road. I'm on my way to Marion, Arkansas If you want to tag along.”

That name shocked her. “Where?” Sarah asked.

“Marion, ever heard of it? It's about twenty miles on the other side of Memphis. In Arkansas.”

“No. That's an odd name for a town.”

“Well, that's the name of it. You gonna ride with me?” His voice radiated its warmth to her.

“Yes, thank you! That would be wonderful! I'm so cold and tired.”

“Well, hop on in!” He held his hand out to help her. His eyes twinkled warmly. Sarah grasped hold of his hand with all her might and suddenly a new strength rushed into her being. She felt as if he were pulling her from a raging river that was about to sweep her beneath its mighty currents.

She sat shivering with her blanket tightly wrapped around her. The young man looked over as she grasped at the corners of her cover. “You don't even have a coat, do ya? If you'd like, you can sit back yonder in the covered part, it'll cut the wind some. It's a bit warmer back there for sure.”

“Yes, something between me and this horrid wind would be heavenly!” Sarah immediately began to work her way into the back of the wagon.

“There's lots of covers and quilts there to keep you warm. I've even got a bed roll back there you can crawl in.” The boy yelled for the horses to get up as Sarah gathered the covers around her and snuggled down under the bunch of quilts as the wagon gently rocked her. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep and was in a most beautiful, warm and sunny place. She was happy. Many people were there who loved her and whom she loved back. She knew all these people.

Everyone was smiling. There was no bitterness, no hurt... nothing but pure love and peace. She danced in the warm sunlight with a crown of dew-sprinkled white flowers in her hair. She heard a gentle voice, whispering,
from great sorrow comes the purest beauty. Dance, my sweet Sehoya... dance

“Wake up.” She felt the boy shaking her.

“Where am I?” Sarah jumped awake.

“Just out of Memphis. Thought you and I could use a bite to eat before we cross the Ol’ Muddy.” He smiled. His kind eyes sparked with light. He had a glowing olive complexion with hair thick and dark.

“The ol’ muddy what?”

“The Mighty Mississip.”

“Oh, I see. Yes, I would be grateful for a bite. I haven't eaten since yesterday. Or maybe the day before that. I don't remember.”

The boy handed her a plate of baked potatoes and bread. Sarah tore into it with both hands. “So, where exactly are you headed?” The boy asked as he sat on a crate across from her.

“I don't know... Just west.” She talked with a full mouth.

“You don't know?” He looked at her strangely as he handed her a bowl of butter.

She swallowed the food before she answered. “I'm just seeing where this road leads me.” She shrugged as she spread the butter thickly over her bread.

“I see. You're in a bit of trouble, huh?”

“No trouble, just searching.”

“For what?”

“For where I belong.”

Sarah took another bite of the food. It filled the empty spot in her belly, but not her heart.

“By the way, we didn't really get a chance out there in the cold to introduce ourselves, my name's Peter Rush... what's yours?”

“Sarah.”

“Sarah what?”

“Just Sarah... I have no last name. I have no family.”

“Orphan. huh?”

“Yeah... I'm an orphan.”

“Nice to have you along for the ride, orphan Sarah.” Peter smiled at her warmly.

“Nice to be here. You just don't know how that cold was cutting into me.”

“I have an idea.” Peter popped the last bit of bread in his mouth and swiped his hands on his thick brown coat. “Guess it's time we get started again.”

It was so wonderful talking to someone again, she hated that their lunch was over so soon.

“When I get home you should stay with me and my Ma until this weather breaks. I know she'd be glad to have you.”

“Is there room for me?”

“Oh, yeah... we have an extra room now since my brother Paul moved out. I'm the only one left at home. The place is small, but like Ma says, ‘
that which is small and cramped makes us closer
.'” He chuckled.

Sarah smiled. “Well, if I won't be imposing. It would be nice to sleep indoors for a change.”

“No trouble at all. Ma will be happy to have you. So will I.”

“Thank you, Peter, so much!”

“Oh, you're welcome. A young lady like you shouldn't be out walking in weather like this. You don't even have a good winter coat.”

“Good thing you came along when you did.”

“Good thing indeed!” He smiled at her before he wrapped his face again and crawled back up front. “Get up, now.” He yelled as he whipped the reigns.

Sarah snuggled back under the covers as the wagon's swaying motion relaxed her. She closed her eyes and just lay there not thinking of anything for a while. She didn't want to remember the past. She didn't want to remember John. She didn't want to think about what had happened to Shane. She didn't want to think of anything but the future. Where would she go? What was she going to do when she got there? Teach? Perhaps she could get her teacher's certificate. She could earn a decent living that way and get a small place to live. This would be her new beginning.

They approached the river and Sarah raised up and looked out as Peter fought to get the horses and wagon onto the flat-bottomed ferry. She fell as it lunged left then right then left again the horses whinnied and the wagon bounced as it rattled across the wooden planks. A man called out. “Your wheels are too close to the edge! Move her up a little dab!” Again the wagon lunged forward. “Whoa there now! That's fine.”

Sarah pulled herself up, the icy cold river rushed about them as the ferry carried them slowly across towards the Arkansas border. The water was a muddy brown color... certainly not like the crystal clear waters of the mountain stream back home. As they pulled up on the western bank Sarah breathed deeply. “Good bye, Tennessee... good bye forever!” She lay back and remembered the wonderful dream and smiled as she drifted back into a sweet and peaceful sleep.

“Sarah... we're here.” Peter shook her awake. She rubbed her face and raised up.

“I can't believe I fell asleep again! I must have really been exhausted.”

“Quick, come on in the house where it's warm.”

She threw back the covers and felt the bitter cold attacking her body. She quickly followed Peter into the house. It was not a mansion, but it was pretty and well-maintained. Much larger than a plain cabin for sure and it was nice and cozy. A fire blazed from the fire place.

“Ma, I'm home!” Peter called out. “And I've brought company.”

Sarah saw a kindly looking woman with cheerful eyes enter the room. Her hair was neatly pinned back and she wore a gingham dress with a crisp clean apron to protect it. “Welcome home!” She hugged Peter then looked at Sarah. “Who's this little lady?”

“This is Sarah, Ma. She's on her way west and I gave her a ride. I told her you wouldn't mind her staying with us for a spell.”

“Of course not!” Her smile seemed to light up the room. This glowing smile must be a natural trait of the Rush family, Sarah thought. “Supper is almost ready. Why don't you show Sarah to the guest room so she can freshen up?”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Sarah asked.

“No, no. Just make yourself at home, child. The one thing I'm strictest about is letting people into my kitchen. By the way, my name is Nora.” She held her hand out to Sarah.

“Thank you for letting me stay, Nora.” Sarah shook her hand.

“You're most welcome. Now, the both of you, go get cleaned up for supper.” She shooed them with a quick wave of her hand.

The talk around the dinner table was lively. Peter told of his travels and all that had happened on his way to Tennessee. He was a shipper who delivered goods all over the south. Sometimes he was on the road for weeks at a time.

“You know what you should do, Sarah, wait until I head west. I always have to take a load of cotton seed into Tulsa in the spring.”

“I don't think I could stay around that long.”

“Why? Are you in some kind of a hurry?” Nora asked.

“No, it's just that I don't want to impose myself on you all... I don't want to take advantage or wear out my welcome.”

“That's impossible! We love to have people around. We're stuck out here with precious few neighbors. It would be nice having someone here with me.”

“Well, I would like to wait till there's another warm spell, if you truly don't mind. It gets awful cold out there.”

“Sure, stay as long as you'd like! You know you're welcome here.” Sarah could feel the warmth and love reaching out to her from these strangers. She noticed the cross-stitched wall hanging of Nora's saying ,
God Bless This House That Which is Small and Cramped Makes
Us Closer.
She smiled as she read it.

“I do like it here.”

After dinner Nora read the Bible aloud in front of the fire. Sarah listened to the sound of her calming voice reading from Psalms. The verses were so lovely and Nora read them with such skill.

“He who dwells in the secret place of the most high shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty... ”

Nora didn't read from just her mind or voice, she read from her heart. She filled each word with love and poured them out into the room where they reached into one's soul. Sarah felt them creating a fire in her heart, a fire that she thought was dead. Dare she let that fire live again? Dare she bring it back to life, just to be put out again? Hurt again? Stomped again? But the words ‘In You will I trust’ rang through her body. “Trust.” She spoke softly.

“Did you say something?” Nora looked at her.

“No, I'm just getting tired. I think I'm going to turn in.” The thought of sleeping in an actual bed did make her eager to lie down.

“Well, I hope you sleep well. If you need anything, just let me or Peter know. There's extra quilts in the bureau in your room.”

Every once in a while the words, ‘In You will I trust’ filled Sarah's heart and mind.
Trust in God, not in man!
She smiled to herself as she lay in the soft, warm bed. “In
you
, my God will I trust!”

It was warm the rest of that week, but when the cold hit, it hit hard. The rain poured and the winds howled. Sarah looked out the window at the tiny ice crystals that swirled in the bitter wind. She was glad that she had taken Nora and Peter's advice and waited. The wrath of this winter storm would have been her undoing. Soon the snow began to fall.

“Oh dear! This is a devil of a storm!” Nora shivered. “Come, sit by the fire with me! I'm so glad you stayed here. If you hadn't, Peter and I would have to be out in this infernal mess looking for you. But now we can go in the kitchen and make a hot stew for supper. Come on, let's get the potatoes peeled.”

“But I thought you didn't like people in your kitchen.”

“Well, something tells me that you're different.” She cheerfully winked at Sarah.

With each passing day, Sarah felt more and more a part of this family. There was a sense of belonging and true compassion. She was starting to feel like this was more than just a short stop along the way. But she couldn't get too attached, she had to leave one day soon. Or, maybe, just maybe, she could get a job somewhere around these parts and a place here too, close to Nora and Peter.

The next morning was overcast and dreary. The wind howled around the house making whistling and ghostly, moaning sounds.

BOOK: By Way of the Rose
9.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Heartbreak Messenger by Alexander Vance
El ahorcado de la iglesia by Georges Simenon
Cigar Bar by Dion Perkins
The Copa by Mickey Podell-Raber