Sarah (Angel Creek Christmas Brides Book 4), page 1
Sarah
Angel Creek Christmas Bride Book 4
Peggy McKenzie
Columbine Publishing Company
Copyright © 2018 by Peggy McKenzie
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Continue with Anna's story
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22. The End
Prologue
Angel Creek, Montana
Christmas Eve 1914
At the well-lived age of seventy-six, Sarah Cassidy rested in her favorite rocking chair in the front parlor that had once been her home. Now it belonged to her daughter, Rebecca, and her family. She was happy to occupy the small bedroom off the kitchen. It was a wonderful place to live out one’s life.
Logs in the fireplace blazed hot, but her bones were old. The knitted cover across her lap kept her frail body warm and cozy.
Her longtime friend, Ruby Collins, shuffled into the room from the kitchen and took a seat on the settee. Children of every age sat around the beautiful Christmas tree standing proudly in the big bay window. The children were anxious for the adults to join them.
Several of the younger boys wrestled with each other, unable to contain their excitement. That was the way with boys. And men. They always found a way to test a woman's patience.
Thoughts of her beloved husband, Quinn, settled soft and sweet amidst the children's chatter. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could almost—
"Mother?" Sarah opened her eyes to her daughter's concerned look.
"I'm alright, Becca. I am only resting my eyes for a moment or two."
Her daughter nodded in understanding and planted a tender kiss on her wrinkled cheek. Becca tugged the blanket higher and tucked the corners tight around Sarah’s legs. "Mother, the children are settled. They want their Christmas story and it's your turn."
Sarah's gaze fell on every face present. There was so much to be thankful for. Her longtime friends, Julia, Anna, Charity and Ruby were all present along with their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. The parlor teemed with loved ones.
Someone asked her once if she could have predicted that five, naive young women from Charleston would be so blessed by replying to an advertisement for mail order brides. The answer was always no. She could never have guessed how this great adventure would turn out if she hadn't lived this wonderful life herself.
"Grandma Sarah, tell us how you came to Angel Creek," begged one of her younger great-grandchildren. Sarah thought the girl’s name was Lucie, but she couldn’t be certain. There were so many children and her mind wasn’t as sharp as it once was, but no matter. She loved them all.
Sarah smiled at the little girl who had spoken and pulled her into a hug. “Darling, you have heard me tell this story time and time again. Aren’t you tired of hearing it?"
"No, and besides, you and Grandma Charity and Grandma Julia and Grandma Ruby and Grandma Anna always tell your Christmas stories on Christmas Eve. I want to hear it again." Lucie begged.
“Yeah, we want to hear them again.” Charity’s great granddaughter, Sarah, chimed in, her little feet dancing with eagerness. Sarah smiled at the child’s excitement, honored that one of Charity's great granddaughters was named after her.
Little Sarah slipped her hand into Charity's and sat next to her rocker in the corner by the fire. Sarah observed her friend's eye tear with emotion. She turned to Sarah and smiled encouragement to her. "Go on, Sarah. Tell your story to the children. Tell them why you came to town all those years ago."
Julia grinned and nodded her gray head in encouragement too. "It's a beautiful story worth telling again."
"It's full of love and happiness too," Ruby said, taking her seat to listen.
"That’s exactly what I was going to say.” Anna said. Sarah cast a fond gaze over her friends and marveled at the fact that she and her friends were still alive and well, still surrounded by the family they loved, and still together. It remained both a blessing and a curse. Thoughts of Quinn resurfaced. Maybe this would be the Christmas—
"Stop woolgathering, Sarah, and tell your story. The children are getting restless." Charity's voice pulled her from her musings.
“Very well.” Sarah began the story by rote. It was the same story the five friends told every year on Christmas Eve, ever since that very first Christmas. Each of them told their own tale of heartbreak, desperation, and courage followed by many unexpected blessings.
“The story begins when myself, my daughter, Becca, and my four very best friends in this whole world, left our homes in Charleston to start a new life in a little mountain town called Angel Creek. Montana was still a territory then and we had never seen a wilderness as big as this one.
We arrived just in time too, for there was a most wicked snow storm on the way and us southern girls had never seen anything like it....”
Chapter 1
August 1865
Charleston, South Carolina
Sarah Caldwell sat ramrod straight in the wingback chair next to the fireplace while her father-in-law paced opposite her. She dug her fingers into her handkerchief hidden between the folds of her dark widow's weeds and twisted it into another knot with each angry step the pompous man took.
She clenched her teeth so tight, the muscles of her cheeks pinched. Somehow, she managed to hold her tongue and wait for him to finish his tirade.
"Sarah, I don't think you are thinking clearly. Since William is dead and can no longer advise you, I think it prudent you should reconsider this ill-advised and rather hasty decision not to take me and Mrs. Caldwell here up on our most generous offer."
Sarah had been raised with impeccable manners, so she pulled in a deep breath until her corset pinched her ribs and pasted on a smile—of sorts.
"I thank you, Mr. Caldwell. Your offer is appreciated, but Rebecca and I have a home. We would prefer to live among all that is familiar..." Sarah’s words trailed off, hating to say the words aloud, "now that my William is gone."
William's father flinched under her words. His fury, fueled by the mention of his only child's name, turned on her. His jowled face splotched with red patches of anger.
"I'll not allow you to speak another word about this subject, Sarah. My decision has been made. You and Rebecca will move into this house immediately.” He paused a moment then added. “William would have wanted it that way."
The punch of her father-in-law's words stung as though he had physically attacked her. She sat back in her chair, resentment clawing at her from every quarter of her trembling body. Stay calm, Sarah. He is using William’s name to manipulate you. She gave herself a moment to breathe. Only then did she contradict her father-in-law's demands.
"Again, I say thank you and I appreciate the offer, Mr. Caldwell. I truly do. But since I am William's widow, shouldn't I be able to make my own decisions about our estate and should not that also include where my daughter and I shall live?"
There. She had finally said what she had been thinking. The outburst of tears from William's mother at the mention of her son's name tore at Sarah’s sympathy, but she could clearly see she would not get any support from her mother-in-law. Well, she didn't need their support. I, too, have made my decision and I will not be bullied as you have done to your son all of his life.
William's father turned on her once more. This time, there was no pretense of courtesy in his words.
"How dare you contradict my decision. Just because that weak-spined father of yours allowed you to speak your mind without censure, does not mean you have a voice in making decisions that are clearly out of your authority. A proper southern woman would never behave in such a manner to assume she knows more than a man about such matters."
The man intended to stab her with his sharp words, but she didn't care one whit what these people thought. She always knew William's father had little regard for women. Even his own wife he barely seemed to tolerate. Nonetheless, the implication that she’d been raised without proper manners was unacceptable.
"I won't allow you to speak ill of my parents. They are dead and buried, God rest their souls, courtesy of a war whose machinations were started by men like you, Mr. Caldwell. Men who sit and watch the destruction before them with glee, hoping to profit from the lesser man's inability to guide his own destiny.
"My father was a kind and generous man. My mother was beautiful, both inside and out. I never once questioned her love or devotion to me.” She fingered he r mother’s locket hanging from a gold chain around her neck. It was all she had left of her mother.
She shot William's mother a pointed stare hoping the arrow of accusation hit home. Her husband had told her many stories of how he was reared by his nanny, Mrs. Handy, and how his parents would leave home for weeks on end for one reason or another. His mother was always absent, preferring to focus on her social standing rather than the well-being of her only child.
It had sickened Sarah to watch William's mother flit about at parties and prance around like some show pony on his father's arm, moving or talking or sitting at his direction. How dare these pretentious asses speak ill of her parents. Who were these people to judge?
"As God is my witness, Sarah, you will not embarrass the memory of my son any further. Have I made myself clear?" Mr. Caldwell demanded. "Isn't it enough that you are the cause of his death? You killed my son as surely as if you pulled the trigger that fired that fatal bullet into his beating heart."
Sarah almost fainted with shock. William's arrogant ass of a father was blaming her for William's death?
"You cannot be serious, Mr. Caldwell. I begged him not to leave us. He joined a fragmented battalion at the end of a war that was already lost. I pressed him time and time again to explain why he would engage in such a reckless act. His answer was always vague. He would only say it was his duty. But his true duty was to remain at home with his wife and child. So, how can you, in all good conscience, find me at fault when I did everything I could to make him stay?"
The man's sneer frightened Sarah. It was a side of her father-in-law she always suspected lay beneath his layers of polished exterior, but she had never witnessed it herself until this moment.
"I find fault because you failed in your duty as my son's wife. You badgered him with your selfish words and accusations of abandonment that made him doubt his decision to go. And it was that doubt that put him in harm's way."
The incredulity of her father-in-law's words punched her in the chest. "How dare you say that to me? If anyone is to blame for my husband's death, it is you, Mr. Caldwell. You pushed your only child into running headlong toward certain death with your talk of duty and honor and other such noble nonsense. Where is your son's honor now, Mr. Caldwell? I'll tell you where it is. It's lying next to him in his grave."
Sarah stood and turned to the door. She had to flee this hellish house of horrors this minute. She passed her mother-in-law’s chair and hesitated in mid-step. With measured words, she tried once more to make William’s mother see reason.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Caldwell. I can only imagine how distressing this is for you to hear, but I cannot allow your husband to attack me in such a manner. I will collect my daughter and return to our own home. And, I’m…sorry things have been so strained between us. William had hoped someday you and I might be friends."
The woman wiped at her tears and looked up at Sarah with red, swollen eyes. The sadness in them tore at Sarah. What it must be like to lose a child—
Sarah was not prepared for her mother-in-law's reaction. Sarah saw the sadness on her mother-in-law's face turn to open hostility. Frances Caldwell raised her cold stare and impaled Sarah's polite control.
"Since we are all speaking our minds this afternoon, Sarah, let me share with you my position on this matter as well. You were William's choice for a wife, but you were never mine. I always thought you unsuitable. And, although you were brought up in a wealthy southern household, that mother and father of yours failed to lead by example. A wife should stand behind her husband, supporting him in his endeavors, not standing in front of him getting in his way." Her words stabbed at Sarah's heart.
She backed away from her mother-in-law's disdain. Sarah watched the portly woman stand, using her chair as support until she stood on her own. Sarah had always known her in-laws disapproved of her marriage to William, but she had no inkling as to the extent of their hatred for her until this moment.
"I wish I could say I'm surprised by your words, Mrs. Caldwell, but your behavior toward me these eight years that I've been married to William has made your feelings quite clear."
Sarah took a moment to calm the irregular beat of her heart before she spoke again. Another breath and her emotions were manageable. She chose to answer her mother-in-law's scorn with an apology or sorts.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Caldwell. I truly am. William and I had hoped, for our daughter's sake, you and I could set our differences aside."
The woman dismissed her words with the flick of her hand. "Don't be ridiculous. You and I were never destined to be friendly. You are not the social climber we had hoped William would marry. You were much too naïve for my son. Why else would the poor boy be forced to seek comfort in the arms of another woman? Caroline Murdoch, now that is the kind of woman I might have befriended. She stole your husband's affections right out from under your trusting little nose.
Sarah's astonishment wheezed through her lungs. "Why would you speak that woman's name in front of me? She is a conniving female who pretended friendship so she could steal my husband—"
"She didn't steal your husband, Sarah. William was eager to find his pleasures elsewhere and Caroline was waiting.”
"William and I were happy,” Sarah insisted, though she was not sure whom she was trying to convince of that fact. “I had just given birth to our precious baby girl. No, my husband would have never sought out Caroline on his own—"
Sarah stopped short, the truth hitting her square in the face. "You! You are the reason William and Caroline found each other. It was you who pushed them together while I was recovering from childbirth. Do you hate me so much you would sabotage your son’s marriage and jeopardize your granddaughter’s future?"
"It didn't take much effort, Sarah. Please don't play the victim. It isn't a becoming look on you."
Sarah could take no more. "Please call Mrs. Handy and ask her to bring my daughter down."
But William's mother was not done with her yet. "Ah, that is another matter we must discuss. Rebecca.”
"What about my daughter?" Sarah's dread rose, burning and clawing at her stomach. She felt ill.
"As much as I disapproved of your marriage to my son, my disapproval knows no boundaries when it comes to how you teach my only grandchild to be a proper young lady. You allow her too much freedom to do and say as she pleases. And now that William is no longer alive to stay my hand, I can't allow you to continue to parent my granddaughter in this manner."
Sarah repeated the woman's words in her head. You allow her too much freedom...William can no longer stay my hand...I can't allow you to continue... What was she alluding to?
Fear clawed at Sarah's throat, making it almost impossible to push the words she needed to say past her lips. She shot a worried glance toward her father-in-law. His smug face made her even more fearful. She recognized the signs of treachery and these two were up to something, of that there was no doubt.
"What do you mean you can't allow me to parent my own daughter? I love my daughter and I will always do what is in Rebecca's best interests. Always. How dare you cast aspersions on my ability to raise my child?"
"I dare because I can, Sarah. I dare because Rebecca is my granddaughter—my only child's only child and, now that poor William is dead, she is the sole heir to a substantial fortune. I will not allow you to ruin her future. Since William is no longer here to protect his little daughter, she must be guarded from mismanagement."
"Mismanagement? Don't you think that is a strange word to use when referring to your granddaughter's upbringing?" Sarah armed the statement with as much indictment as possible, and yet her mother-in-law seemed unaffected. The woman continued speaking as if talking about something as mundane as the weather instead of someone she so stridently professed to care about.
