MY TOMORROW Chapters 14-16.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

While Elijah carefully examined Lillian, Zimri brought his wagon close. "It looks like a clean break on her ankle, let's get her to the house and make sure she's comfortable so I can further assess the problem." Horace stood beside Elijah as Zimri approached.

"Easy now," Elijah instructed, crouching beside Lillian. Together, the three men settled her onto the bed of the wagon.

"My ribbon!" Lillian cried, trying to raise herself from her position on the wagon.

"I've got it right here, Sister!" Florence placed the shiny blue prized ribbon in Lillian's hands.

Zimri guided the horses toward the house. Lillian stifled a groan, her hand clutching Florence's arm with surprising strength. "You're doing fine, Lil," Florence reassured her, her tone warm and caring like a mother hen.

At the house, Sarah Ann hurried to prepare a makeshift bed on the couch with fresh, clean white sheets gathered from the clothesline the day before. She fluffed pillows for her sister and by the time Lillian came into the house, her resting place was ready.

Sarah Ann and Zimri, Florence, Horace, and Sadie stood around Lillian as Elijah examined her from the fall. Worry pierced the room like a burgeoning balloon about to pop. Florence sniffed into her handkerchief, stifling the sorrow inside. Sarah Ann stood stoically beside Florence with an arm around her sister's middle, praying that her strength infused her worried sister, while Horace assessed his aunt's small body lying on the settee. The sheets smelled like the summer sunshine and pillows cradled Lillian's gray head.

"It's a clean break," Elijah said, wrapping Lillian's right ankle, his voice steady despite the severity of the situation. "And the lump on her head will need to be watched closely. She will likely be sore and bruised by this evening." The lump was more significant than a small egg, turning purple and black.

"Any complaints?" Horace bent to Lillian and asked, his voice calm and low. He gazed lovingly at his aunt, his eyes moist with unshed tears.

Lillian raised a small hand to her forehead and breathed, "Headache."

Elijah nodded to the group and handed Florence a list of instructions. "I've given her aspirin. Keep her leg elevated and apply cool compresses to that lump. If she feels dizzy or confused, send for me immediately."

Lillian opened her eyes and reached out to grasp Elijah's hand. "Thank you, Lige." her voice was weary but grateful.

Elijah offered a faint smile, his fingers briefly squeezing hers. "Rest now, Aunt Lillian. I'll check on you in the morning before I open the office." He looked up at his family gathered around the elderly member. "If you need anything, come get me at once."

Satisfied that she was as comfortable as possible, Elijah excused himself, his bag in hand. He paused at the doorway for one last glance, his eyes meeting his father's. "I'll see you later."

With that, he stepped out into the warm afternoon, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. As he returned to the picnic grounds, the jarring thrum of cicadas in the trees greeted him, his thoughts already turning to the next challenge ahead.

Elijah spotted Andrew folding a quilt while juggling toys and a picnic basket. Determined, he quickened his step. "I hate to interrupt, Andrew," Elijah caught his friend's attention, "but I need your help with something urgent. Can we talk?"

Andrew paused, his arms full but his expression open. "Caroline's not feeling well, so I sent her and Brady home. What's going on?" he pushed his brown cowboy hat off his forehead, exposing a sheen of sweat on his brow.

Elijah glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot, then leaned in slightly. "You know as well as I do those crickets didn't just find their way into Sadie's picnic basket by accident. I haven't said anything until now, but there's more to this. Last week, Sadie got tangled in barbed wire—badly. I found her in time, or it could've been serious. And now her notes about some of the kids are missing from her desk drawer, and the lesson plan book is gone!"

Andrew's brow furrowed, his forehead creasing deeply. "What are you getting at, Lige?"

Elija's voice hardened, frustration evident. "Someone's trying to scare Sadie, maybe even drive her out of town. And I think it's my sister."

Andrew's eyes widened, and his shoulders slumped as if the weight of the words settled directly on him. "Caroline? Why on earth would she steal from school? And to do something like the barbed wire? What's her motive?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Elijah felt the tension increase. "You don't know her like I do. Caroline's always been vindictive. After my parents chose Caroline over Sadie and adopted her, she showed her true colors—jealousy, manipulation, and always stirring up trouble. She thrived on pitting me against my father. And Sadie? Caroline hated her at the orphanage in Indiana. She made Sadie's life miserable back then, and now that Sadie's here, I think she's at it again."

Andrew shook his head slowly, disbelief written across his countenance. "But to go this far? Barbed wire? What if one of the kids had gotten tangled in it, and no one found them in time?"

"Exactly," Elijah nodded grimly. "This isn't just a petty grudge. It's dangerous. Someone could've been seriously hurt. I'm worried about what might happen next."

Andrew exhaled sharply, adjusting his hold on the quilt. "What do you want to do about it?"

"I'm going to the house to talk to Mother. I have a feeling she's involved in this, working with Caroline. I need answers, Andrew. Meanwhile, can you keep an eye out for anything unusual? Caroline might be working with someone else."

"You do realize Caroline's about to have that baby any day now? How could she possibly be behind all this in her condition?"

Elijah's lips pressed into a thin line. "I've thought about that. But if she has help, it's possible."

Andrew considered his words, then gave a slow nod. "You're right. I'll start watching and have my eyes and ears peeled around town. I'll keep you updated."

"Thanks, Andrew," Elijah clapped a hand on Andrew's shoulder. “This means a lot."

As they parted ways, Elijah's thoughts churned, his resolve firm. Whatever the truth, he would uncover it and make sure no one else got hurt.

***

Upon stepping into the house, Elijah immediately noticed the silence. It was an unusual stillness, as if the air was holding its breath. Passing through the parlor, he glanced at the dining room table, where his mother's summer shawl lay draped beside the picnic basket. He frowned, continuing into the kitchen, where faint traces of the morning's cooking lingered. Ah, Mother is home. Probably lying down.

The staircase loomed ahead, curving upward toward the bedrooms. He hesitated only briefly before climbing, his resolve tightening with every step. As much as he hated disturbing her, this conversation could not wait.

At his parents’ bedroom door, he heard his mother speaking softly. Putting an ear to the wood, he listened. Sue Ellen was talking, but there were no other voices. Was she talking to herself? She spoke so low that Elijah couldn't make out her words.

Knocking softly, he called out, "It's Lige."

There was instant silence. Then, with a faint voice tinged with weariness, Sue Ellen said, "Come in…"

When he stepped inside, he found Sue Ellen sprawled on the bed, one shoe off and the other dangling precariously from her foot. Her head rested against two pillows, and she clutched a handkerchief in one hand, dabbing at tear-streaked cheeks. A thin pale-yellow sheet was drawn over her, despite the summer heat.

"Son…" she murmured, her voice hoarse and heavy with emotion. "What are you doing here?" She shifted slightly, then sighed. "Forgive me, I'm not feeling well. The heat…it's overwhelmed me again."

Elijah looked around the room. Sue Ellen was alone. She had been talking to herself. His jaw tightened. He had witnessed this performance too many times to count. Though part of him sympathized with his mother's fragility, he knew she wielded her supposed ailments like a shield. Determined not to let her divert him, he pulled a chair to the bedside.

"Mother," he said evenly, "I'm here to talk to you."

Sue Ellen's hand fluttered to her forehead in a dramatic gesture. "Elijah, please. My head is pounding, my eyes are burning, and my heart…" She paused for effect, her voice catching. "My heart is breaking."

"Lay back," Elijah said firmly. You don't need to do anything but listen. This won't take long."

Her red-tinted eyes popped open, her lips thinning into a sharp line. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice suddenly sharp.

He arched a dark brow. "Proving a point." Leaning forward, he locked his angry gaze on her. I know you and Caroline are working together to drive Sadie out of town."

Sue Ellen froze, and the rise and fall of her ample chest were the only movements. Elijah waited for her to explode with indignation, but she merely stared at him, her expression unreadable.

"I resent it, Mother," he continued, his voice gaining an edge. "And I'm demanding that it stop. Because if it doesn't, I'll take drastic measures."

The door creaked open, and Horace entered, his cane tapping softly against the wood flooring. His dark eyes darted between his wife and son, his shaggy brow furrowing. "What's all this? What do you resent, Elijah, and what's your mother supposed to stop?"

Elijah shot up, straightening to meet his father's long gaze. "I'm glad you're here. Please sit down. This way, Mother won't have the opportunity to twist my words later."

Sue Ellen glared at her son with wild eyes. "How dare you speak to me this way, Elijah John Brownstone! Horace, make him stop this instant!" Her voice rose, frantic, her fists gripping the sheet as if to anchor herself.

"Sue, calm yourself," Horace said with a weary sigh. He limped to the nearest chair and fell into it. "What's going on?"

Elijah saw his father limping and asked, "Father, you're limping…are you in pain?" He trained his eyes on the old man to not miss an indication that he was faking.

Horace waved a hand in the air, "No need to worry, I was standing much more today than usual is all." He cocked his head to one side. "Now, get on with it."

Elijah took a breath. "I know Mother and Caroline are working to drive Sadie out of town," he said flatly.

Sue Ellen cried out, covering her face with a damp cloth.

Horace's brows lifted in surprise, but before he could respond, Elijah went on. "I know about the barbed wire on the playground at school because Sadie got entangled in it. Her notes about the children are missing from her teacher's desk, and the lesson plan book is gone. And now dead crickets are found in her picnic basket!"

"Son, Caroline is getting ready to have a baby," Horace began, but Sue Ellen's comment stopped him.

Sue Ellen's face twisted into a mask of disbelief and fury, and her voice dropped to a venomous hiss. "You think I have time to concern myself with that girl?" She spat the words like poison. "I want nothing to do with that orphan!"

Horace sat in stunned silence. He dipped his head, then raised it once more. "Do you have proof of this, son?"

Elijah shook his head. "No proof yet. But I'm working on it." He shot a cold look at his mother. "Why do you hate Sadie so bad? Because she's an orphan? That's no fault of hers, Mother. After all, Caroline was an orphan."

"The truth is I don't want an orphan marrying my son. You're better than that. You will find an educated woman from a fine, upstanding family to settle down with." Sue Ellen huffed the words, then relaxed as the truth emerged.

Elijah's laughter shook the bedroom windows. "I told you I'm sour on marriage because of you, Mother!"

Horace raised a hand and yelled, "Stop this at once!" His eyes blazed like molten lava. Rising to his feet and leaning on his cane, he looked directly at his wife and asked. "Sue, tell the truth. Have you caused such despair and outrageous behavior? Stealing from the schoolhouse? And, indeed, the crickets in Sadie's basket didn't hop inside and die."

She lay back against the embroidered pillowcases, limp as a noodle. "I know nothing about those nasty insects, Horace!"

Frustration sounded around the room as Elijah and Horace drew long breaths and shook their heads. It was no use continuing a shouting match because Sue Ellen insisted she was innocent.

Horace dropped back on the chair once more. "Well, Elijah, I agree with you."

Sue Ellen threw off the cloth covering her face, bolting up in a huff. "What?"

Elijah's face turned from bewilderment to surprise. His fingers gripped the chair's arms in shock. "Father?"

Shaggy brows shot up. "Someone put those crickets in the picnic basket; they stole Sadie's teacher's notes and placed a dangerous wire on the playground. You've just told on yourself, Sue, that you have no use for Sadie Danley. That implicates you to a certain degree."

Sue Ellen began a protest, but he glared at her and raised her hand. "Not another word, woman!" He continued, "And we know how devious Caroline is. She's caused us enough trouble for eternity."

Elijah's mouth was a grim line, and his eyebrows shot into the air.

"Elijah is right; these things must stop. Sadie Danley is here for a purpose and will not be run out of town. We need her here with us."

Muffled cries escaped as Sue Ellen bawled loudly and turned on her side.

Elijah stood and talked over his mother's wailing. "If anything else happens to Sadie, I'll take drastic measures, Mother."

Immediately, Sue Ellen quieted. She turned to look at her son. "She needs to stay away from me."

When he had her attention, he barked a bitter laugh, his voice reverberating. "If that's true, Mother, stay out of her way. But I tell you this—if I find out you're lying, I'll have you committed to the asylum in Nevada."

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

Horace's eyes widened, his face blanching. "Elijah…" he began, his voice trailing off as he looked at his wife.

Sue Ellen's mouth fell open, her face draining of color. For a long moment, silence dominated the bedroom, the tension crackling like a storm about to break.

"You wouldn't," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Try me," Elijah's voice was strong and serious. You've meddled in enough lives, Mother. It ends now."

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Three days later, Rocky Corners settled back into its familiar rhythm. The picnic grounds were cleared of tables and chairs, leaving faint depressions in the grass. The patriotic bunting still adorned the gazebo in honor of the Independence Day celebrations, but the carnival atmosphere had vanished. Farmers guided creaking wagons through the dusty streets, merchants bustled with customers, and townsfolk resumed their daily routines. July's relentless humidity weighed heavy in the Ozarks, making the air sticky and the nights just a few degrees more bearable than the sweltering days.

But Lillian was in trouble. Her fall had fractured her right ankle and left her hip in agonizing pain. Elijah had summoned two other physicians from nearby cities to confirm his suspicions. After thorough examinations, both doctors, renowned for their expertise, agreed; Lillian's hip was broken. At her age, healing could take months, if it ever occurred at all. The diagnosis left her bedridden, her usual vitality replaced with weariness and suffering.

As word of Lillian's accident rippled through Rocky Corners, the community responded with warmth and swiftness born of deep affection for their beloved schoolteacher. The next day, the familiar sound of wagon wheels crunching over the gravel road signaled the arrival of neighbors bearing gifts of sustenance and support. Audrey, Phoebe, and Laura bustled into the kitchen, their arms laden with fragrant pies, golden-crusted loaves of bread, and delicate cakes. The tangy sweetness of blackberry and apple jelly and preserves accompanied the savory richness of casseroles that Liza, Ruth, and Jane delivered. Others brought smoked ham, dressed chickens, and hearty roasts, their offerings a testament to the practical care and shared abundance that defined the little town.

In the makeshift bedroom that Lillian occupied, Preacher Horton's deep, resonant voice wove through the room like a balm. He had made a point of visiting twice daily since the accident, his presence a pillar of faith and hope. Seated beside Lillian, whose pale hands rested on the quilt, he read from the Psalms with an energy that seemed to light the dim corners of the room. His words, vibrant with conviction, wrapped Lillian and everyone around her in the comforting assurance that the Lord's strength was with her, even in this dark hour.

"'He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings, you will find refuge,'" the pastor recited, his hand resting briefly on hers. The weight of his touch conveyed not just his pastoral concern but the faith of a man certain of divine healing.

As Lillian's eyes glistened with unspoken gratitude, Sadie standing quietly in the doorway, clasped her hands in silent prayer. The love and faith of the community surrounded them, a living testament to the bonds that had grown through years of shard joy and sorrows in Rocky Corners.

After the pastor dismissed himself, Sadie sat by Lillian's bed. The retired schoolteacher lay propped against pillows, her face pale and etched with deep lines of discomfort. A patchwork pattern quilt, faded from years of washing, covered her frame. Sadie had helped Florence with Lillian's morning care and Pastor Horton had just left. Now she read aloud from the Book of Esther. A glass of lemonade, its rim glistening with condensation, rested within Lillian's reach on the bedside table.

Florence was outside tending to the laundry, her apron fluttering in the gusty wind. Sarah Ann, usually a steady presence, hadn't come by this morning, leaving a gap in their usual routine. Outside the bay windows, tree canopies swayed and rustled, their leaves shimmering, like silver coins in the bright sunlight. Sadie glanced up as a strong gust bent the flowers in the garden, their petals trembling before springing back upright. "The wind is lively today," she murmured, pausing her reading to gaze at the moving foliage.

Elijah was late. Sadie glanced at the clock, its brass hands ticking steadily. Normally, he arrived punctually, his sturdy boots echoing his arrival on the wooden floorboards as he entered. She debated retreating to another room to avoid him but chastised herself. She couldn't run like a scared deer every time he came near. She would stand her ground and act as if she had it all together, even if the hollow hole of loneliness gnawed at her.

Lillian shifted, her movements slow and deliberate. Despite the pain, her wrinkled face softened as she looked at Sadie. "Hand me that paper and pencil, please. I need to tell you some things," she said, her voice a rasping whisper. "You're like the granddaughter I never had." her tear-brimmed eyes glistened, her frail hand trembling as it rested on the quilt.

Sadie leaned forward, touched by the admission. She closed the Bible softly, the leather cover warm from her touch. She placed the paper and pencil next to Lillian, then took Lillian's wrinkled hand in hers. "Shh, you need to rest," she urged, though the lump in her throat betrayed her.

"No," Lillian insisted, catching Sadie's hand. Her grip was feeble, but her determination was clear. "I want you to know, Sadie. First, the dill pickle recipe…the secret ingredients are a red-hot pepper and a teaspoon of Elijah's whiskey in a quart of brine."

Sadie's eyes widened. "Whiskey? Why, I never would have guessed! And Elijah…why does he have whiskey?"

A faint laugh escaped Lillian, a mere shadow of her usual mirth. "You probably don't know it, but whiskey can be good medicine. There's nothing better for a sore throat than a hot toddy. Elijah keeps it for his rheumatism—its Old Crow, shipped in from Springfield. One day, I decided to experiment with my pickles. Just a tad, mind you, and they tasted unique!" She paused, drawing a shallow breath. "If I die, the recipe is yours."

Sadie managed a small laugh, though her chest tightened at the thought of losing Lillian. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice quivering and her heart warming.

"And," Lillian continued, "I'm leaving this house and the land to Florence. You can live here for however long you need to, darling girl. Your job is to take care of the cemetery. It's my legacy from Bennett, you know. And someone has to keep it up. Will you do it?"

Sadie's heart ached as she nodded, tears threatening to spill. "I promise," she whispered, clutching the Bible as though it could anchor her in the rising tide of her emotions.

Lillian sighed, her eyelids drooping. "I'm going to write about our Bronson family history, too. Mother and Papa's story needs to be told," she murmured, her voice trailing off as sleep claimed her.

The talk of death left swirling emotions inside Sadie's heart. She left Lillian sleeping, and found Florence hanging sheets on the clothesline, their white lengths snapping in the wind like sails. She bent to the wicker basket, reaching for a damp pillowcase.

"This wind is liable to blow in a storm!" Florence cried out, catching the flapping sheet and pinning it securely to the line.

"There you are!" Zimri's voice boomed as he appeared around the corner, his face flushed with excitement. "Caroline had the baby early this morning. Sarah Ann sent me to spread the news. She has a girl."

Florence's smile brightened her face. "Did Sister help Elijah?"

Zimri nodded; his gray hair tousled by the wind. "She got home around two this morning, tired as a workhorse."

Florence beamed. "Good news indeed. I'm glad they're both doing well."

"As far as I know," Zimri said, tipping his hat. "I'd best be on my way."

As he disappeared down the road, Florence turned to Sadie. "So that's why Sarah Ann didn't come, and why Elijah is late. Bet they're both worn out."

Sadie nodded, her mind wandering to Caroline and the new baby. What name would they choose? The thought tugged at her curiosity as the wind lifted the sheets, billowing them like ghosts dancing in the sunlight.

***

Elijah's plan to return on the circuit and forget Sadie were dashed. It was too soon to leave. Given Lillian's age, he wanted to monitor her closely. He couldn't bear to leave her and rely entirely on Sarah Ann and Florence. If she took a turn for the worse, he would just have to turn around and come back anyhow. After much deliberation, Elijah sent word to Pine Hills, letting patients know they had two options: travel to Rocky Corners to see him at the clinic, or seek care from doctors in other towns.

So much for getting away from Sadie, he mused with frustration. Are you running away from Sadie or from the fear of commitment? He didn’t have to think about the answer, he already knew.

He glanced at the clock and splashed cold water on his face from the basin, the shock of it snapping him to alertness. His reflection in the small mirror showed dark circles under his eyes. He ran damp fingers through his thick black hair to smooth it down, pulled on his scuffed boots, and grabbed his wide-brimmed hat. He was running late this morning, thanks to Caroline's labor during the night. Her second child had arrived easier than the first, but there was one hitch—Caroline had complications, keeping him and Sarah Ann at her side longer than expected.

Andrew had pulled Elijah aside before they left, guilt etched into his weary face. "I think I might've caused her labor," he admitted sheepishly. "I grilled her about Sadie and pushed her too hard. She got really upset."

Elijah shook his head, his tone firm but reassuring. "Caroline's been having pains for days. You didn't cause this." Andrew seemed relieved, but the two men agreed to meet in a few days to discuss Caroline's role in harassing Sadie.

Stepping into the bright, hot morning, the wind immediately tried to snatch his hat. He caught it in midair, muttering a curse as he jammed it firmly onto his head. The wind was fierce today, rattling loose shutters and tugging at anything not anchored down. Dust swirled in eddies around his boots as he made his way to Lillian's house, worry carving lines into his forehead.

Broken bones were bad enough, but for someone of Lillian's age, they were a grim prognosis. The thought of her bedridden and in pain, possibly never walking again, sent a shiver through him despite the heat. He forced the grim thought aside as he approached the beautiful Victorian house, its bright paint gleaming in the sunlight.

Inside, he found Lillian still asleep, her pale face slack with exhaustion. Elijah joined Florence and Sadie in the backyard, where long wooden poles propped up sagging clotheslines heavy with wet clothes, the wind snapping and tugging them.

"Ladies," Elijah called, his voice low and calm as he approached. Both women turned, startled. He noted how pretty Sadie looked with the wind tousling her hair as the sunshine danced over her freckled nose. No doubt about it, her presence pulled at his heart strings. It was all he could do to not take her in his arms.

"I hoped I wouldn't scare you!" His hearty laugh carried on the air.

Florence smiled at her great-nephew, her sunny cheeks glowing. "We hear you had a busy night."

Elijah ran a hand over his scruffy face, the stubble rasping under his fingers. "That's putting it lightly. How was Lillian's night?" He turned his gaze back to Sadie, their eyes locking briefly.

"She rested surprisingly well," Florence answered, breaking the moment. "She's been a bit woozy this morning. Sadie read to her after her bath while I came out to finish this."

Elijah nodded, his voice softening. "That's good to hear. I'll check on her at lunch, I don't want to disturb her now." He turned to leave, but Florence's voice stopped him.

"Are you going out on your circuit, Lige?"

He hesitated, the lines on his tanned face deepening as he sighed. "No. Between Aunt Lillian and Caroline, I'm staying put for now. I've told patients to come here or find someone else until further notice." He was quick to catch Sadie drawing a deep breath. Was that a tiny smile he detected on her lips?

Florence nodded approvingly. "Good. Lillian needs you right now. I'm worried about her, Lige."

"I'm praying for her, as I'm sure the entire town is too, as I'm sure the entire town is too," Sadie added, her eyes bright with hope and faith tugging her mouth.

Elijah's jaw tightened. "We won't discuss worry, Aunt Florence. I'm not ready to face what may come. Let's keep a positive outlook and hope for the best." With a curt nod to both women, he turned and strode away.

At the clinic, Elijah was relieved to find no patients waiting. The familiar scent of coffee filled the air as he brewed a fresh pot, the rich aroma mingling with the faint medicinal tang that always lingered in the space. He had just poured a second cup when the door opened and his father stepped inside, his gray suit impeccable but missing its usual tie.

"Morning, son," Horace greeted, removing his hat.

"Morning, Father," Elijah set the second cup on the desk. "Let's talk in the office."

Horace settled across from him, cradling the steaming mug. "I've been thinking about your mother's role in all of this trouble with Sadie."

Elijah blinked; his interest piqued. "What about her?"

"Sue Ellen oversaw the picnic baskets at the picnic," Horace said, his voice heavy with implication. His dark eyes bore into his son.

Realization hit Elijah like a punch in the gut. His stomach churned as he connected the dots. "She had access to everyone's baskets…"

Horace nodded grimly. "She had plenty of time to slip the dead crickets into Sadie's basket."

Elijah exhaled sharply. "I knew she was meddling, but this…" He shook his head; his voice laced with disgust. "It's deplorable."

"Caught red-handed," Horace murmured, his voice tinged with sadness. "But she doesn't realize we're onto her. Not yet."

"What do you plan to do?"

"We wait. We need all the facts before we confront her."

Before Elijah could respond, the front door swung open, and boots thudded across the floor.

"Anyone home?" Ross Montgomery's deep voice carried a distinct Ozarks drawl.

Elijah motioned him in, and Ross greeted them with a broad grin, his sun-weathered face crinkling. His plaid shirt stretched across his muscular frame, and his brown vest hung loose, the gleaming gold sheriff's star catching the light.

"Good to see you again, Ross," Horace said warmly.

"Likewise, Horace," Ross replied, his chest puffing slightly.

Elijah handed him a cup of coffee. "What brings you here so early."

Ross sipped the coffee, his grin fading into a thoughtful expression. "I've been thinking about Sadie's trouble. I was going to tell Andrew, but I'll tell you since he's a new papa at home with his wife. I know where the barbed wire came from."

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Elijah leaned forward, planting both elbows on the desk in front of him. The worn wood creaked under the pressure as he met Ross's uneasy gaze.

Ross glanced between the two men, his Adam's apple bopping as he swallowed hard. His brow furrowed deeply, and his weathered face tightened with concern. "The wire came from my ranch," he admitted, his voice gravelly. "It was old wire I'd replaced last year, not good for much. Andrew took it a while back because Caroline wanted him to fence in a small garden plot."

The words hung in the still warm air like smoke from a smoldering fire. Elijah shot up from his chair so fast it scraped against the floorboards, the harsh screech cutting through the quiet. His chest heaved as disbelief and anger flickered in his eyes. "What?"

Horace mirrored his son's reaction, though slower, his movements stiff with age. He sat back in his chair; his face lined with a mixture of worry and weariness. "This is unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head. The faint scent of pipe tobacco clung to him, a comfort in contrast to the weight of the moment.

Silence swallowed the room, broken only by the steady tick of the wall clock, its pendulum swinging like a judge's gavel. The three men exchanged glances, their thoughts loud in the quiet. Outside, the faint clatter of wagon wheels and a crow's distant caw barely reached their ears.

Elijah ran a hand through his raven hair, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "This is just as I thought. If the wire was at Andrew and Caroline's house, someone would've had to take it to the schoolhouse. Caroline just had a baby and there's no way she could've managed that."

Horace nodded, his tone thoughtful but grim. "Sue Ellen wouldn't have the strength to move that kind of load, either. And I'm home for lunch every day. She's always there. She wouldn't have the time to carry out something like this. There has to be a third party involved. But who?"

Ross scratched at his chin, his fingertips rasping against stubble as he narrowed his eyes in thought. "Looks like we've still got work to do. I'll keep an ear out for anything suspicious.”

He stood, his boots scuffing against the plank floor as he adjusted his hat. His shoulders square, his stance betraying the unease he tried to hide. “I'm meeting Abby for lunch today."

Before Elijah could respond the front door creaked open, letting in a blast of heat. A patient stepped inside and stood waiting at the front desk.

"I'll be right there," Elijah called out, pulling himself back into the role of doctor, though the weight of the conversation lingered in his tense jaw. "We've got to figure out who's behind these acts before anything worse happens," he said, his voice resolute. He rose, reaching for his stethoscope.

Ross tipped his hat and offered a quick nod. "We'll get to the bottom of it. You can count on it."

Horace gave a faint smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Keep us informed, Ross. This town has seen enough trouble as it is."

The three men dispersed, the room growing quiet once more save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock, a reminder that time was slipping away and the urgency to stop whoever was behind the sinister acts.

***

Riley O'Flannery rode into Rocky Corners at high noon on the dusty hack from Wheatland. The wheels rattled and creaked over the uneven road as the July sun blazed overhead, baking the earth and raising waves of heat in the distance. Silas Bridges, perched beside him on the bench, chattered nonstop during the three-mile trip, filling the air with gossip from both towns.

"The big news is Miss Lillian's fall after she won the pickle contest at the picnic Saturday," Silas informed him, leaning in closer with a conspiratorial grin.

Riley was only half-listening, but his ears perked up when Silas mentioned Sadie Danley. The name stirred something deep in his chest, like a bird taking flight.

"There's plenty of help for Lillian, she's got her sister, Florence, and the schoolteacher. Yes, sir, Miss Sadie's already made quite the impression."

Riley pressed for more details, careful to keep his tone casual, but inwardly, his excitement bubbled over. By the time the hack rattled to a stop in front of the boarding house, Silas had left him holding his carpetbag on the steps, squinting against the sun's glare. The hot July sun beat down mercilessly, reddening his ears and the back of his neck. He tugged his collar, suddenly aware of the sweat trickling down his back.

His hat was back on his uncle's farm, battered and beaten, no longer fit for company. Determined to make a good impression, Riley resolved to buy a new Derby before meeting Sadie.

After checking in at the front desk, Riley climbed the narrow staircase to Room Number five. The scent of lemon polish lingered in the hall, mingling with the faint aroma of roasting meat from the cafe below. He splashed his face with water from the basin in his room and changed into a clean shirt, smoothing down the fabric nervously.

Seated in the cafe, Riley ordered a roast beef sandwich and nibbled at it absently, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, as he rehearsed the words he wanted to say to Sadie. "Sadie, I—I've missed you, you, you somethin' fierce," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head at how awkward it sounded.

His lips curve into a smile as he thought of her. It had only been a month since they parted, but it felt like years. He imagined her face lighting up when she saw him, her laughter like the sound of Indian creek running over smooth stones. His heart swelled at the thought of asking her to marry him. He could see it all so clearly, taking her to Galena, Kansas and introducing her to Uncle Clem and Aunt Myra, and starting their life together.

A warm flush crept up his cheeks, and he ducked his head, embarrassed by the intensity of his own daydreams. She'd been his best girl since they met at Mrs. Hannigan's orphanage in Indiana all those years ago. Being with Sadie felt like standing in the sunlight streaming over them, or surrounded by a million sparkling diamonds, a rare and precious gift.

"Would you like a piece of pie, sir?" A cheerful voice broke into his thoughts. Riley glanced up to see the waitress, Abby, standing beside his table, a warm smile on her face. "We have apple and fresh blackberry cobbler. The berries were just picked this week."

Jolted from his reverie, Riley's blush deepened. "Uh, yes, ma'am, I'll take the cobbler," he stammered, grateful for the distraction.

Abby returned, setting the dish in front of him. The golden crust was perfectly flaky, with deep purple blackberry juice oozing from the sides. The sweet, tangy scent made his mouth water, and he realized just how hungry he was.

Abby lingered; her curiosity piqued. "You're new in town. Are you here on business or just passing through?" Her blue eyes sparkled, and Riley noticed the way she tilted her blonde head, clearing fishing for information.

"I—I do, do have business, here, here," he replied, his words halting as he stumbled over the sentence. He flushed again but found Abby's expression kind, her curiosity patient rather than judgmental.

"Well, I wish you luck," she said with a knowing smile. "What sort of business if you don't mind me asking?"

Riley hesitated, then straightened in his chair. "Do you, do you, you, know Sadie Danley?" His voice was soft, but earnest.

Abby's face lit up with recognition. "Sadie? Of course! She's a sweetheart. Do you know her?"

Riley offered his hand. "Riley O'Flannery. I've come to, to, see her. We, we were friends back, back in Indiana. I, uh, uh, uh I rode the train with her and Mrs. Hannigan but, but went on to to Kansas."

Abby nodded, filing the information away with obvious interest. "Do you know where she's staying?"

"Yes," Riley said, grateful for the question. "The ha—uh, hack driver told me. I'm headin' to see her, her right after this, this, this pie."

Abby's curiosity was momentarily satisfied as the bell above the cafe door jangled and Ross came inside. She gave him a friendly smile. "Well, good luck, Mr. O'Flannery. I hope you find what you're looking for."

Riley nodded, his determination renewed as he finished the last bite of cobbler. The tangy sweetness lingered on his tongue, but his mind was already elsewhere—on Sadie and the future he dreamed of sharing with her.

***

Sadie walked the familiar rows of headstones, glancing at names and dates, her heart hitching at the ones that marked babies and young children's deaths. Sometimes disease or an outbreak took entire families to the grave. She especially liked discovering the various symbols found on many of the graves or the epitaphs written in verse.

The heat of the day beat down on her and sweat trickled down her back. She hurried to her favorite spot, the bench under the trees near the shed. The oppressive heat clung to her like a damp shroud, even in the shade. Not a single leaf stirred; the wind that had offered brief respite yesterday was utterly still today. Above, the sky stretched endlessly blue, marred only by billowing clouds, their swollen edges gilded by the blazing sun. Yet even these clouds seemed ominous, their fluffy edges creeping together as though conspiring to blot out the light.

The cemetery's peaceful silence usually wrapped her in comfort, but today it felt heavy, like quiet before a storm. She tried to focus on her thoughts though the humid air pressed against her, muddling her concentration.

The missing notes and lesson plan book weighed heavily on her mind. The only explanation she could fathom was unsettling: someone wanted to make her life harder. She immediately thought of Caroline. It had to be Caroline.

Sadie's stomach churned as icy fear coiled around her thoughts. How far would Caroline go to make her feel unwelcome? The notes, written with care and confidentiality, had no use to anyone but Sadie. The act was deliberate, spiteful. And the lesson plan book—losing it meant hours of painstaking work rewriting her plans.

I have to take control. I'm going to confront her! Somehow make her stop this insanity! Sadie shook her head, that would never work. Caroline was a mean bully who treated others like dirt on her shoes. She would try to stand up to Caroline, but in her heart, Sadie didn't feel convinced it would work. No, the only answer was to leave. But that was giving in to Caroline's scheme. What right did she have to run Sadie off? Was there a way for them both to live in the same town and have peace? She had to try to find common ground.

She glanced at the sky, now streaked with gray. The clouds churned and deepened, dark fingers stretching toward the horizon. A sudden gust of wind kicked up, scattering dry leaves across the ground and lifting her skirt. The scent of wildflowers and earth rose, mingling with the metallic tang of approaching rain.

Her pulse quickened as footsteps crunched on the brittle grass behind her. She turned sharply, her breath catching in her throat.

"Sa, Sadie!"

Riley O'Flannery stepped from behind the trees, his round spectacles glinting in the shifting light. His navy shirt clung to his thin frame, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his dark trousers tucked neatly into scuffed boots. Shadows danced beneath a new Bowler, emphasizing the beads of sweat forming on his brow.

Sadie shot to her feet her heart pounding. "Riley? What in the world are you doing here?" Her hand flew to her chest as she steadied herself.

"I found you!" His smile stretched wide as he closed the distance between them grabbing her arms with unexpected urgency. "I, I, I've come to, to, to, to see you!" His voice cracked, his stutter more pronounced than usual.

Sadie blinked in confusion. "I see that," she murmured, trying to manage a smile.

Riley crushed her to him, his thin chest heaving against hers. "I've missed you, you, so, so much!" His hands moved awkwardly across her back, holding her with a desperation that felt overwhelming.

"Riley, please," she gasped, gently pushing against his chest. When he finally loosened his grip, she stepped back, putting space between them.

"I saw Mrs. H," he stammered. "She said you were h,here."

Sadie nodded, still trying to make sense of his behavior. His sudden intensity unsettled her. She gestured to the bench. "Let's sit. We'll talk."

As they sat, Riley leaned forward, his foot bouncing nervously. He launched into his story about Kansas, the lead mines, and his savings. His uncle worked for Mr. Edgar Schermerhorn, a prominent businessman in Galena. Sadie listened, her mind racing like the storm clouds overhead.

When he turned the conversation back to her, his eyes locked on hers with intensity. "Come, come with, with me, me to, to Galena," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "This is, is a sign, don't you, you see, see? We can be together, build a, a, a life together!"

Sadie's throat tightened as the first low rumble of thunder rolled in the distance. The air around them seemed charged, heavy with tension and the coming storm. She shook her head. "Riley, we're friends. I have a job here. Responsibilities."

"You know, know, I’ve, I've loved you, you forever. I, I took the, the chance to better my, my life with my, my uncle and aunt so, so I, I, I can offer you marriage, a family, everything you dream of," he insisted, his voice rising. The shadows darkened his features, and the storm seemed to echo his growing frustration.

Surprise erupted inside her and she gently refused. Riley's desperation turned to anger. "No! You're not listening! This is my plan!" He leaped to his feet, his voice sharp and unwavering. "I'm going to, to marry you, you and, and make your dreams come true!"

Before Sadie could respond, another voice rang out, strong and commanding.

"What's going on here?" Elijah appeared, striding toward them with purpose. His white coat flapped in the strengthening wind, making him look larger than life against the brooding sky. Relief flooded Sadie as she stepped into his embrace, the warmth of his presence calming her frayed nerves.

Riley spun to face Elijah, his fists clenching as he squared his shoulders. Lighting flashed in the western sky.

"Riley, stop," Sadie pleaded, her voice trembling.

But Riley didn't move, his dark eyes darting between her and Elijah. The storm was upon them, and it wasn't just the weather.

 

MY TOMORROW Chapters 7-10

CHAPTER SEVEN

Friday arrived, and the entire town was eager for tonight's event at the opera house to welcome the new schoolteacher. As Sadie prepared for her first public introduction, Sarah Ann and the ladies had worked tirelessly to transform the Opera House into a festive celebration space. The air inside was rich with the warm scents of baked bread, roasted meats, and pies filled with summer berries, ready to tempt guests who walked through the doors.

Sadie spent the morning as usual poring over lesson plans at the schoolhouse. She reviewed notes, picturing the faces of each young child she'd met in town—eager learners with curious minds and boundless energy. By afternoon, she joined the ladies in the community garden, where the sprawling plot of land brimmed with ripened vegetables and overgrown berry bushes. She met the Blairs, the Deckers, and the Ford families with some of their children. The children pulled weeds, picked beans and spiny cucumbers, and pulled red globe radishes, while also helping in the strawberry patch.

The garden was a feast for the senses. The earthy scent of soil mixed with the sweetness of strawberries, and a hint of tang from dill and other herbs met Sadie's nose. Sadie dug her hands into the rich soil, marveling at the way God's hand brought life from the humble seeds. Each plant, each sprout, felt like a miracle; a reminder that even in the darkest moments, hope could still bloom.

Around her, familiar faces of the town gathered. Mrs. Blair called to her children to be gentle with the strawberry plants. The Decker and the Ford children darted between the rows, their laughter ringing out like a cheerful chorus. Sadie smiled as she watched the children pick beans and radishes, marveling as they cradled them like prized treasures.

Just then, the garden gate creaked open, and Sadie looked up to see Caroline waddle in, a basket balanced on her hip, her other hand resting on her rounded belly. Beside her, a small tow-headed boy toddled along, his chubby cheeks flushed from the afternoon sun. He spotted a pebble on the ground and eagerly dropped it into his mother's basket with a delighted giggle.

That must be Brady, Sadie thought, warmth spreading through her chest. He's so adorable! With his golden curls and toothy grin, the boy looked like he had stepped out of a storybook. A pang of longing struck her heart, and how she yearned for a family of her own, a little one who might share her copper hair and mossy eyes.

Caroline's voice broke into her thoughts. "Now, Brady, watch how Mama pulls the onion." She crouched, guiding his small hands to wrap around an onion stalk and tug it from the ground. Brady squealed in delight, clutching the dirt-dusted bulb as if it were treasure.

Sadie's gaze lingered for a moment longer, and her heart fluttered at the sight of the boy and his mother. But a knot formed in her stomach as he passed by. Caroline had always been her nemesis—the thorn in her side at the orphanage, and likely still the same spiteful girl now. Sadie silently prayed their paths would rarely cross.

Back at home, Sadie poured a few drops of rose water into her bath. As the water warmed her skin, she felt the tension melt away. She leaned back, closing her eyes, but the familiar ache of longing crept in. Without thinking, her mind drifted to Elijah Brownstone.

Where was he now?” she wondered. Out on his medical rounds, she supposed. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she remembered the boy he'd once been. The same boy who had sat beside her on that cold orphanage floor as they cut out paper hearts for the Valentine's party. Elijah had been her first friend, her first and true ally. She remembered he'd scrawled his name with boyish charm, his handwriting crooked but bold.

Sadie's cheeks flushed as she wondered if he ever thought of her, if he still held that paper heart as she did. Could true love be that simple? Is there such a thing as love at first sight? The notion seemed as delicate as the thin, faded paper, yet it had endured a decade of uncertainty, hope, and heartache.

When the bath water cooled, Sadie dressed carefully, pulling on a new moss-green taffeta dress that made her hair glow and her eyes sparkle. She tucked the red paper heart beneath her chemise, close to her own heart. If only you knew, Elijah, she thought, as she secured a jade clip in her hair, her gaze lingering in the mirror.

In the reflection, Sadie saw not the orphan girl from ten years ago, but a young woman who had worked hard to carve out a future. She'd earned her teacher's credentials and had become the person her younger self had dreamed of being. But still, doubts clung to her like shadows. What if the children don't like me? What if I can't reach Tommy, Sammy, and Michael?

Sadie pressed her palms together, breathed deeply, and lifted her worries to the Lord. Father, grant me the courage to do your will and the strength to see it through.

Just then, Florence's voice called up the stairs, "Sadie, it's time to leave. Are you ready, darling?"

"One moment!" Sadie took one last look in the mirror, reassuring herself with a smile. This marked the beginning of her new life in Rocky Corners, her second chance to create something beautiful from brokenness.

As she descended the stairs, she felt a sense of peace settle over her. She wasn't alone here. Florence and her sisters stood by her side, and maybe, just maybe, the Brownstones would too—if Elijah returned soon enough.

***

The June evening pressed in, thick and sultry, with towering thunderheads piling up in the western sky, casting an ominous shadow over Rocky Corners. The storm held a brooding promise, and with each rumble that rolled in from Oklahoma, townsfolk cast wary glances upward. The atmosphere felt electric, as if the storm was just waiting for the right moment to unleash its fury, bringing the potential of fierce winds, hail, and torrents of rain.

The Rocky Corners Opera House stood proudly east of the well at the crossroads, its windows ablaze with light that spilled onto the dusty street. Built shortly after the town was incorporated in 1873, the opera house had become the beating heart of local entertainment. Its vast two-story brick structure echoed laughter, lively music, and chatter. Tonight, it was alive with anticipation, filled with neighbors, friends, and families eager for the evening's festivities. The sounds of fiddles and brass from a lively band poured out into the humid air, mixing with the distant grumbles of thunder.

Wagons, buggies, and horses lined the crowded streets, tied to posts and trees, while folks milled about, catching up with old friends and laughing in clusters. Zim eased the carriage to the opera house's steps and hopped down, assisting Lillian and Florence before gesturing toward Sadie. She stepped down, her nerves tingling with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. A ripple of energy coursed through the air, and she glanced up at the swelling storm clouds.

"Is it the storm brewing, or just the excitement of the crowd?" Sarah Ann asked her husband as she adjusted her skirt.

Zim chuckled, patting his wife's shoulder. "Likely a bit of both! Folks around here don't pass up a chance for a good party with food and drinks!" He winked, making everyone laugh.

Florence linked her arm with Sadie's, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know you're nervous, dear. But remember, everyone is eager to welcome you to Rocky Corners. Just stay close to us." Sadie nodded, her heart beating fast. She stole a deep breath, trying to steel herself for the moment ahead.

Inside, the opera house was a sight to behold. The polished wood floors gleamed in the light of chandeliers, and the unique horseshoe-shaped balcony looked down upon a bustling dance floor. Wildflowers in vases adorned long refreshment tables on one side, filling the room with the faint scent of daisies and roses. The tables overflowed with cakes, pitchers of punch, and other treats tended to by familiar faces, including Kate Dabbs and Martha Johnson.

"There's Kate and Martha! I'll go say hello to them, Miss Florence." Sadie's face lit up with relief. But just as she moved toward them, her gaze caught Caroline, standing by the refreshments and watching her with an all-too-familiar look of disdain. Sadie's smile faltered momentarily, but she gathered herself and moved on.

Florence gave an encouraging nod, her watchful gaze sweeping the room. She spotted her nephew near the stage, his figure tall and dignified in a finely cut black suit and brocade vest, a glint of his watch chain peeking out from his pocket. She approached him, her eyes soft with admiration. "Horace, you look dapper this evening."

Horace grinned and adjusted the notes in his hand. "Ah, Aunt Florence, you flatter me. Isn’t tonight a wonderful occasion? Having Sadie here will be good for everyone." He tucked the paper into his pocket and added, "Just practicing my welcome speech."

Florence returned his smile as her gaze bore into her nephew's handsome face. "If your plan works, Horace, you'll make a lot of people happy. Me included! Has he arrived yet?"

Horace lifted a brow as he lowered his voice, "Not yet, but I expect to see him walk through the door at any moment." He stiffened a bit and drew a breath.

"Well, I do hope it goes the way you are expecting it to go, Horace. For his sake as well as Sadie's…"

"Dearest Aunt, my plan should go off without a hitch."

A drumroll of thunder punctuated Horace's words, underscoring the tension. Before Florence could respond, Mayor Zeke Laney took to the stage, silencing the band and waving jovially to the crowd. Dressed in his best suit, minus his coat due to the sticky heat, he tipped his beaver hat to the crowd. "Good evening, Rocky Corners!" His voice boomed, met with cheers. "I'd like to remind you that next week is our summer picnic, and you know what that means—food, fun, and plenty of competition!" The crowd laughed, and Zeke grinned wider. "But tonight, we've got a special welcome planned. And let's hope this storm holds off!"

Zeke continued with his cheerful announcements before calling out, "And now, I'd like to welcome the president of the school board, Mr. Horace Brownstone!"

Horace stepped forward, nodding politely as he acknowledged the applause. His gaze swept over the crowd, pausing at the entrance, where his son, Elijah, had just arrived. Elijah Brownstone, tall and striking in his crisp white shirt and dark vest, stood with an air of quiet confidence, though his face held a flicker of surprise. As the crowd quieted, Horace's gaze softened, pride swelling in his chest.

"Many of you know my aunt, Lilian Lamberson, is retiring from her role as teacher," Horace began, his voice warm. "After much searching, the school board found the right candidate to fill her shoes—a young lady of integrity and spirit. Please welcome Miss Sadie Danley!"

Sadie stepped forward, heart pounding as she met the sea of friendly faces. She stole a glance at Florence, who nodded with encouragement. Taking a steadying breath, Sadie turned to the crowd, speaking in a clear but soft voice, thanking them for their warm welcome and sharing her excitement to teach in Rocky Corners. As she spoke, her gaze drifted over the crowd, lingering on familiar faces—until she saw him.

At the refreshment table, holding a glass of punch, stood Elijah. Tall, composed, yet with eyes wide, his expression struck somewhere between shock and wonder. For a heartbeat, the room and the storm outside seemed to melt away. She took in his dark eyes, his raven hair, and a gentle familiarity that stirred memories. His childhood kindness, their shared laughter at the orphanage, the paper heart she had kept all these years. Her breath hitched, her words faltering.

The crowd's cheers swelled, breaking the spell. Horace laid a steadying hand on Sadie's back, guiding her off the stage, but her gaze stayed locked on Elijah. A flash of recognition passed over his face, followed by a smile that reached his eyes, softening his expression. The years between them vanished, leaving only the memory of a paper heart, a promise unspoken but never forgotten.

Outside, the rumble grew, rolling across the hills, and suddenly a peal of thunder echoed through the hall, followed by the first fierce drops of rain pelting the windows. The wind howled, rattling the doors, but inside the opera house, the storm between Sadie and Elijah had only just begun.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sadie followed Horace, her legs feeling shaky beneath her. The room's warmth contrasted with the slight chill of the rain-swept night, and her skin tingled with anticipation. Horace sat next to his wife, and Sadie settled at the far end near the three sisters. Sarah Ann had thoughtfully set delicate glasses of punch and plates of savory treats at each seat. Sadie reached for her glass, gulping down the cool, fruity liquid. Her throat felt tight, parched by nerves, while her stomach churned with the conflicting emotions brewing inside her. It had been a decade since she'd last seen Elijah Brownstone, and here he was—only feet away, closer than he'd been in all these years.

Elijah approached the table, his boots silent against the floor, but Sadie felt his presence like a sudden burst of sunlight. He stopped by her chair, and her eyes traveled up from his rugged leather boots to his tall, lean frame until they met his gaze. Time seemed to hold its breath as she took in his features, the bronze glow of his skin, deeply tanned by the sun, the faint shadow of a beard emphasizing his strong jaw. His dark hair, tousled by the wind, lent him an untamed, roguish charm that hadn't been there in his youth.

"Sadie," he said, his deep voice a familiar, soothing balm to her frayed nerves. His hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder, a warm, steady weight that made her heart skip. She saw something in his gaze—a depth of feeling that mirrored her own—but he kept his composure, resisting the words he truly wanted to say.

"Elijah," she managed, her voice soft, trembling with unshed emotion. She longed to throw herself into his arms, to hold him as tightly as she had dreamed of over the years. But she held back, letting her gaze speak for her until he whispered, "Please stand up."

Sadie rose, and Elijah wrapped his arms about her. The warmth and his strong arms gave her the feeling of protection. The faint scent of cinnamon and whiskey drifted up from his collar, a rich, masculine fragrance that made her heat flutter with longing. She closed her eyes, feeling the comfort of his hand pressing firmly against her lower back as if he'd never let her go.

A sudden crack of thunder shattered the intimate moment, reverberating through the building and drawing gasps from the guests. Rain lashed against the windows, filling the room with a pulsing rhythm, the storm intensifying as lightning briefly illuminated Elijah's face. 

The front doors flew open, letting in a man drenched from the downpour, shaking himself like a dog. "Caught in a gully washer, I was!" he exclaimed, grinning as someone handed him a towel.

The commotion broke the spell, and Sadie felt a chill as Elijah's arms slipped from around her. She looked up to see Sue Ellen's disapproving gaze fixed firmly upon them, her ruby-colored lips pushed into a sharp, petulant smile. "It's good to see you've beat the storm, my dear son," she said, her voice cutting through the warmth between them like a cold wind. She patted the chair beside her, her eyes never leaving Sadie. "Come sit. You must be tired from your long journey."

Elijah gave Sadie's hand a gentle squeeze, reluctance clear in his eyes as he held on a moment longer before drawing a deep breath and replying, "Yes, I would've been drenched if I were still on the road…"

Elijah pulled out the empty chair between Lillian and Florence, and Sadie sat down. Her heart crashed as she watched him take the seat next to his mother.

Horace rose, raising his glass of punch with a broad, warm smile. "We're glad you're safe and dry. Let's have a toast!" He glanced at Sadie, his eyes twinkling with pride. "To our new schoolteacher, Sadie Danley. May her life blossom and bloom with love and success!"

A cheer rose around the table, and Sadie's cheeks flushed as glasses clinked. She savored the toast, feeling for a moment like she belonged, basking in their acceptance. But then Abby Crowe appeared, gracefully balancing a plate and a glass as she approached with a dazzling smile. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing eyes of vivid blue, and her presence drew every gaze, including Elijah's.

"Oh, I was hoping for a seat, but it looks so crowded here." Abby's tone was light, yet her glance toward Sadie was pointedly sweet.

Caroline stood abruptly, making space with a deliberate flourish. "Nonsense, Abby! We'll make room for you right here between Elijah and me." She directed Andrew to bring another chair, her voice ringing out with all the practiced charm of someone who had orchestrated this very moment. Abby took her seat, beaming up at Elijah.

Florence broke the tension by greeting her great-nephew with a fond smile. "Lige, I'm glad to see you again. You're the spitting image of your father!"

Elijah laughed, lifting his glass to her with a wink. "Then I'm quite fortunate."

Conversation resumed around the table, easy and cheerful, but Sadie felt a gnawing ache in her chest as she watched Abby leaning toward Elijah, laughing softly as they chatted. Sadie forced herself to focus on Lillian, who told a lively story in her animated voice about the upcoming summer picnic. But her gaze drifted back to Elijah and Abby, their familiarity stirring a sharp pang of doubt.

As the evening wore on, Sadie met and exchanged polite smiles with townsfolk who came to introduce themselves. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the storm began to diminish, and guests gathered their things and prepared to leave. Sadie busied herself, helping Sarah Ann and Florence clear the plates and sweep up, glancing now and then to see if Elijah would seek her out. But he was gone.

Her heart sank, disappointment weighing heavily as she gathered the dishes. She had hoped for another moment with Elijah, just one more chance to hold his gaze, to feel his warmth. She couldn't shake the embrace they had shared earlier, how secure and cherished she had felt. Yet he had left quietly, without so much as a farewell.

Was she clinging to a hope that didn't exist? That hug had been real, a warmth she hadn't felt in years, but perhaps she had imagined its depth. And then there was Abby, laughing with him as if they were close—maybe more than close. Sadie felt a pang of envy, sharper than she cared to admit, as Abby's beauty and ease haunted her thoughts.

What could she offer Elijah? She was an orphan, a woman who had fought for every shred of dignity and hope. Elijah had grown into a man of stature and means, a doctor who was respected and admired. Why would he be interested in her if he could have someone like Abby Crowe? The thought left her hollow as if the world she'd built around her dreams had crumbled to dust.

She pressed her hand to her chest, where the small paper heart lay hidden against her skin. It was as if her own heartbeat was in rhythm with its fragile pulse, yet now, she felt it sink like a stone. The rain pooled in the streets outside, and she could almost hear her own heart's hopes wash away with it, dissipating into the night.

***

The next morning, sunlight burst through the clouds, bright and clear, chasing away the remnants of last night's storm. Puddles filled the rutted roads, and in the fields, gleaming like small mirrors, a reminder of the rain's force. The wind had scattered barrels and baskets around the fenced garden, and rows of sweet corn leaned, bent at odd angles as if exhausted by the storm's relentless battering.

The songbirds singing in the trees woke Sadie from her fitful sleep. She hadn't rested at all, her mind restless, drifting back to memories of Elijah and whispered secrets of the orphanage. Her energy was gone, her limbs heavy with fatigue. Today, she decided she would seek solace in solitude. She'd rest her weary spirit and sort through her tangled thoughts. With its quiet solitude, the cemetery seemed the perfect place to do just that. She planned to stop by the schoolhouse for a book on plants, a little something to keep her mind occupied.

The storm had left debris scattered across the schoolyard, fallen branches, leaves, and patches of tangled grass still wet. As Sadie passed the playground, a tall basket lying on its side caught her eye. She stepped towards it, wondering who might've lost it. Before she reached it, her foot snagged against something sharp. A sudden, sharp pull stopped her.

Before she could fully register what was happening, her dress caught, and pain sliced across her thigh. She looked down, horror dawning as she saw the barbed wire coiled against her leg, tangling her dress, digging deeper. Her dress was torn, ripped by the wire. Thank goodness she wore her boots; they protected her ankles and feet. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry, but tears slipped out as pain pulsed through her legs. She was caught.

"Help!" Desperation surged as the reality of her predicament sank in. She struggled to remove the wire from her dress, but it held tight, and she scratched her hands. Each movement seemed to make the wire tighten around her, digging deeper. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think of what to do. The wire was scattered all around her.

As she tried once again to untangle her dress, her movements caught her off balance, and down she went, rolling onto the sharp barbs. This time, the wire gouged her upper right arm and grazed her cheek. She knew she was bleeding from the pungent smell and the drops that fell onto her wet, ruined dress. She was in big trouble.

"Sadie!" A familiar voice called out urgently, and her eyes flew open to see Elijah sprinting toward her.

"Stop, Elijah! There's wire! Barbed wire, don't get too close!" she warned, her voice strained with pain and relief.

He halted, eyes wide as he took in her predicament.

"What on earth…" he muttered, carefully approaching, his gaze scanning the tangled mess of wire. "I'll get you out of this, but it might hurt a little. Trust me?" he said gently, reaching down.

She nodded, pushing the tears out of her eyes. Her fingers clung to his hand, her heart pounding. With steady hands, Elijah guided her up, gently disentangling her from the wire, each movement deliberate as he worked to free her without causing further injury. Finally, he had freed her enough to move away. He pressed a handkerchief into her hand. "Press this against your cheek to stop the bleeding. Now, step right where I do, all right?" he said, pressing down the wire with his boots to clear a path.

As he helped her forward, his gaze caught on something red in the grass. "What's this?" He bent to pick it up—a paper heart, dampened but still intact.

Sadie's breath caught. "My heart!" she whispered, reaching for it with trembling fingers. Elijah's eyes softened as he recognized the token he'd given her so long ago at the orphanage.

"You kept this?" His voice was low, almost a murmur, as he placed the heart in her hand. The world seemed to pause as their eyes met, a shared memory passing between them like a bridge to the past.

"Yes," she whispered, closing her hand around it, the damp paper pressing into her palm. She barely felt the pain of her wounds, her heart swelling as the warmth of his hand steadied her.

Once they were free of the wire, Elijah scooped Sadie up without a word and carried her inside the schoolhouse, setting her carefully on a bench. He glanced around, his face growing concerned when he saw the empty water bucket. "I'll take you to my office, where I can tend to these cuts properly," he said firmly. And before she could protest, he lifted her again, carrying her to his buggy and driving to his practice with quiet, focused determination.

At his office, Elijah gently placed Sadie on a long table draped with a clean white sheet. His hands were careful as he washed her wounds with warm, soapy water, the cloth gliding over the cuts and scrapes. The sting of the soap made Sadie wince, but his touch was so gentle it comforted her.

"Tell me what happened," he asked, his voice soft but edged with concern. She explained how she'd seen the basket and assumed the storm had scattered it into the yard. He methodically cleaned each wound as he listened, then snapped off two pieces of aloe from a large plant on the windowsill, smoothing the cool gel over her cuts.

"This should help," he said, his tone reassuring. The cuts aren't deep enough to require stitches. We'll leave them uncovered to breathe, just for a bit." His fingers brushed against hers as he held her gaze, his expression unreadable. He turned his attention to her cheek. He removed the handkerchief and examined the scrape. His face was so close she felt his breath upon her—minty and a whiskey smell.

Sadie felt warmth rise to her cheeks. She glanced at his eyelashes, then dipped to his lips, where they pursed as he carefully blotted the blood away. "Thank you for coming when you did." She wanted him to kiss her. To taste the whiskey upon his lips, herself. Her green eyes closed in response to a deep breath.

Elijah dabbed her cheek with the rest of the aloe gel. He paused, rubbing a hand over his chin. "I'm just glad I was nearby." He hesitated, his gaze thoughtful. "It's strange, though—how did that barbed wire end up in the yard in the first place?"

Sadie shrugged, "Maybe the storm blew it in from somewhere."

His expression grew skeptical, his brows knitting together. "Barbed wire's heavy, and that storm wasn't strong enough to move it like that." He sighed as if shelving the thought for now, then helped her down carefully. "Regardless, you're safe now."

Sadie managed a laugh despite the sting of her wounds. "You're my knight in shining armor, Elijah."

He chuckled, leading her to the buggy. "And you're the princess in need of rescuing, it seems." As they rode, Elijah glanced her way. "I hope you're free for supper tonight. There's been too much time between us, Sadie. Let's catch up at the cafe."

Sadie's heart swelled as she looked at him, her earlier pain fading in the warmth of his smile. "I'd like that."

When Elijah dropped her off, Sadie watched him from the window, a mix of exhaustion and contentment settling over her. Her heart fluttered with a new, hopeful rhythm, the memory of his light touch lingering like a whisper on her skin. Could her dream be within reach? Could Elijah Brownstone be her dream come true? A future here with Elijah, building a family together, seeing their dreams burst into a love like no other. Just like the fairy tales of old.

 CHAPTER NINE

Elijah stepped out of his small, neatly organized office, his leather satchel swinging at his side. The warm summer air hit his face, carrying the faint scent of roses in bloom and the distant clatter of wagons on the road. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since dawn. He decided to head home for a quick bite before resuming his afternoon calls.

As he approached the house, the cheerful clapboard exterior painted a pristine white with dark green shutters belied the tension that always seemed to linger within. His hand paused on the brass doorknob when his parents' sharp, overlapping voices cut through the stillness.

"Elijah, you fool," he muttered, tightening his jaw. "You knew this would be waiting for you."

He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scent of baked bread, roasted ham, and sharp pickles waft through the door. It reminded him of the home he wanted but never truly had. A home that wasn't ruled by strife. Maybe soon, he would buy a house and get out of this one.

When he pushed the door open, the wooden frame creaked, silencing the voices from the kitchen. The sound of his boots hitting the waxed plank floor echoed ominously. Elijah stopped in the entryway, the dining table in sight, with his parents seated opposite each other, the tension between them palpable.

"Elijah," Sue Ellen greeted, her tone overly bright as she adjusted her collar and wiped her red face with a handkerchief. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a telltale sign she'd worked into one of her usual frenzies. "Come sit, darling. I'll fix you a plate—"

"No, Mother," Elijah cut her off sharply, his tone like a whip crack in the air. "Stay seated. I've suddenly lost my appetite."

Horace, who had just begun to rise, froze in mid-motion. He lowered himself back into the chair, rubbing his temples as though bracing for another tirade. His gray tie hung loose about his neck, and his face, furrowed with worry lines, looked older than his years. He avoided Elijah's gaze, choosing instead to stare at the centerpiece on the table, a weak distraction from the gathering storm.

"Father, sit," Elijah commanded, his voice firm but not unkind. "We're going to have this out, here and now."

Sue Ellen stiffened, her lips pursed into a thin line as she fanned herself with the tea towel. "I don't know what you mean by this behavior, Elijah, but I won't be spoken to like some common—"

"Enough!" Elijah's voice boomed, reverberating against the high ceiling. His fists curled at his sides as he took a step forward. "Do you hear yourselves? Do you even know how far your voices carry? I could hear you arguing from the street! It's embarrassing! You are embarrassing!"

His mother gasped, her hand flying to her chest as though she was struck. "How dare you—"

"Dare? Oh, I dare, Mother." Elijah's brown eyes darkened like a fire roaring behind them. "Because I have lived with this madness all my life. You, with your sharp tongue, belittle anyone who crosses you. And Father—" He turned to Horace, who shrank slightly under his son's piercing gaze. "You let her. Day after day, you sit there like a whipped dog, letting her tear you to pieces!"

Horace's head jerked up slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His shoulders hunched forward, as if he were trying to make himself smaller.

"You two have poisoned this house with your bitterness. Not just for yourselves, but for me."

The room fell deadly silent. Only the steady ticking of the wall clock punctuated the tension. Sue Ellen's face crumpled, and she blinked rapidly, her eyes glistening with tears.

"You think I haven't noticed?" Elijah continued, softening only slightly. "Mother, your health is failing. Your hands tremble, your heart races, and your stomach churns because you live in a constant state of anger. Do you even care what this does to you? Or to Father? Or to me?"

His mother's lip quivered. She fumbled with her tea towel, twisting it in her hands. "I…I didn't know you felt this way," she admitted in a small, broken voice.

"Well, now you do," Elijah's tone was still firm but tempered with something resembling hope. "And I intend to help you if you'll let me. Tomorrow morning, you'll come to the office. We'll discuss your health and what we can do to improve it."

Sue Ellen nodded, her usual defiance momentarily stripped away. Elijah turned to Horace, who had straightened slightly in his chair, looking at his son with an expression that teetered between guilt and admiration.

"And you, Father. You'll come after her. You may not bicker like Mother, but your silence and inaction have done just as much damage."

Horace gave a slow nod. "You have my word, Elijah. I'll come."

Satisfied, Elijah stepped back, his chest heaving with the weight of his words. "Good. Now, I've got supper plans at the cafe with Sadie—"

At the mention of her name, Sue Ellen's head snapped up. "Sadie Danley? That orphan girl? Elijah, no son of mine will marry an orphan…."

"Enough, Mother!" Elijah thundered, his voice filled with the finality of a gavel strike. "Did I say anything about marriage? I did not. In fact, I refuse to marry anyone. And do you know why?" He stopped and let his words sink in.

Sue Ellen huffed, "I forbid it!"

A sneer broke over Elijah's face. "I've decided not to marry because I've seen what marriage looks like right here. And I want no part of it! And I will not allow you to heap your wrath on Sadie. She's more of a lady than you'll ever admit. If you cannot respect her, you'll also lose my respect."

Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and marched out, the heavy thud of his boots echoing behind him. Lunch was forgotten. Elijah's stomach had turned sourer than milk setting out in the summer sun.

Horace sighed deeply, rubbing his temple before pushing back his chair. "You have much to think about, Sue Ellen. You'll listen to that boy if you care about this family." He stood, adjusted his tie, and left without another word.

Left alone at the table, Sue Ellen pressed trembling hands to her mouth, tears slipping down her cheeks. She felt the weight of her son's words settling into her heart for the first time.

***

The blazing afternoon sun glared through the Bank of Brooming County's wide glass windows. Horace entered the warm interior of the town bank with heavy steps, sweat trickling down his temple. His broad shoulders slumped beneath the weight of Elijah's words as his ever-present cane thumped across the floor. His hand lingered on the polished brass knob of his office door before turning it.

Once inside, he closed the door firmly, cutting off the faint murmur of clerks and customers in the lobby. The heavy click of the latch echoed in the small room. The smell of wood and ink hung in the air. Horace pulled the blinds, casting streaks of muted light across his oak desk and the carpet below.

Lowering himself into the plush leather chair behind his desk, he sighed, his chest rising and falling with the effort. The chair creaked under his weight, a familiar sound that seemed to scold him for his inaction over the years due to rheumatism. He rubbed the coarse stubble on his cheek, feeling the grit of the day's neglect, and stared at the ledger before him. Numbers stretched across the page, but his mind was elsewhere.

Elijah's anger still reverberated in his ears. His son had finally spoken the truth, shattering the fragile, unspoken truce that had governed their family for decades. "You're an embarrassment to me," Elijah's words rang again in Horace's mind. He flinched, gripping the edge of the desk, his knuckles whitening.

Horace drew in a sharp breath, held it, and released it with a force that stirred the papers on his desk. He knew the boy was right. He had allowed his wife's harsh words and controlling ways to cow him. But there was a reason—one he rarely admitted, even to himself.

He loved Sue Ellen.

Horace leaned back in the chair and gazed at the ceiling, where cracks spidered out from the edges of the plaster medallion holding the light fixture. He thought of their younger days when Sue Ellen's laughter had been a balm to his wounded soul, her fiery spirit a beacon. Somewhere along the way, after losing multiple miscarriages, that fire had turned destructive, consuming their peace and burning him.

His fingers tapped the desk in an uneven rhythm as he considered Elijah's declaration about marriage. The boy had sworn off the institution, and the revelation gnawed at Horace's heart.

No wife? No family? Horace shook his head, his brow furrowing. "Preposterous," he muttered aloud.

He turned to a small, framed photograph on his desk, the image of a young Elijah clutching a fishing pole and grinning beside Horace at the riverbank. His only biological child, the boy in the picture, had been hopeful and bright-eyed. Somewhere along the years, that hope had dimmed, and Horace knew he was partly to blame.

Horace's gaze shifted to the ledger. His plan to bring Sadie Danley to Rocky Corners suddenly felt more urgent than ever. He had long suspected Elijah's feelings for the girl, and after the party, he was certain. The way his son had watched her, his eyes softening whenever she smiled, it was unmistakable.

Resting his elbows on the desk, Horace clasped his hands together and pressed them to his lips. "This has to work," he whispered.

He had failed Elijah as a father in many ways, but he could make this right. If he could help bring Sadie and Elijah together, perhaps his son could find the happiness Horace had once dreamed of—and perhaps reclaim for himself a sliver of the man he used to be.

The chair creaked again as he stood, his determination settling over him like a tailored coat. He straightened his tie and smoothed the front of his waistcoat, his resolve hardening with each motion. The faint hum of life outside his office seemed to surge, a reminder of the bustling town and the responsibilities awaiting him.

There was work to do. But as soon as he could, he would speak with Elijah and tell him the truth about how he brought Sadie to Rocky Corners. And why.

***

Sue Ellen sank onto her plush feather-tick mattress, the bedframe creaking slightly beneath her weight. The midday sun filtered through the lace curtains, painting mottled patterns across the room's floral wallpaper. The oppressive heat pressed down on her, and she dabbed a cool, damp cloth against her throbbing temples.

The headache was relentless, a pounding reminder of Elijah's outburst. His accusations stung, but not because they were true, at least, she told herself.

She adjusted the cloth over her eyes, shutting out the light. Mean? Cruel? The words echoed in her mind, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Ridiculous," she muttered under her breath. Sue Ellen Perkins Brownstone wasn't cruel! She was practical, decisive, and knew how to take control.

Her thoughts drifted back to her childhood, when chaos reigned. An unruly household, a scatterbrained mother, and an alcoholic father had left her desperate for order. When she married Horace, his easygoing nature seemed like a godsend. He was agreeable to her decisions and content with letting her manage the household in its entirety. Over the years, she'd taken the reins completely, steering their family's course with a firm hand.

Her fingers tightened around the cloth. Change? After decades of controlling every aspect of their lives, could she change now?

The question was as unwelcome as Elijah's accusations.

Her thoughts shifted to Sadie Danley. The mere idea of the girl standing beside her son as his wife made Sue Ellen's chest tighten. Elijah was accomplished and educated—a doctor. Sadie? A simple orphan with no family name to speak of, no legacy worth mentioning. Sure, the girl had earned her teaching credentials, but Sue Ellen's lips twisted in doubt. How had she paid for it?

Lifting the cloth from her eyes, Sue Ellen stared at the ceiling, her brows furrowing. Florence must have had a hand in it. Her husband's aunt was soft-hearted and foolish enough to waste resources on someone like Sadie. Sue Ellen's breath came quick and shallow as unease bubbled beneath the surface.

Elijah needed someone suitable, a wife with standing and means, not some charity case.

Her gaze shifted to the vanity table, where her silver-handled hairbrush gleamed in the light. She needed to talk to Caroline and find out if Abby had made headway with Elijah. They sat together at the party last night, which was a good turn. Together, they could ensure Elijah stayed far away from Sadie Danley.

Placing the cloth aside, the headache began to dull, but her resolve sharpened. She would protect her family's future, no matter the cost. Sadie Danley was an unwanted thorn in her carefully constructed life.

***

Despite her harrowing ordeal with the barbed wire, Sadie couldn't stand to be cooped up in her room. She slipped into a fresh dress, traded her boots for soft, worn slippers, and went to the Peace Hill Cemetery. The sun blazed overhead, but the promise of shade beneath the sprawling oak trees lured her forward. She craved the solace only the cemetery could provide, its quiet stillness a balm for her frayed nerves.

The wooden bench, nestled near a line of weathered, oversized headstones by the persimmon trees and the blackberry brambles, called to her. Their gnarled limbs stretched wide, dappling the humid air with patches of cooler shade. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of ripening fruit and mingled with the melodies of songbirds perched high above. Their trills seemed to weave a lullaby, and she allowed herself to sink into the calming embrace of the scene.

Settling on the bench, Sadie folded her hands in her lap, her thoughts turning to the earlier event. The barbed wire had torn her dress beyond repair. She sighed, picturing the faded fabric added to the rag bag destined for a quilt or a braided rug. Practicality was her strength, but the thought of the wire unnerved her.

Her brow furrowed. Elijah's question had stayed with her. Who would leave the wire in the schoolyard? Thank goodness it had been her and not one of the children who had been caught in the cruel metal. The thought of their tender limbs, tangled and cut, made her stomach churn.

Then, she smiled faintly. Elijah had miraculously arrived as if summoned by some unseen force. His steady presence had soothed her panic, and his touch, firm yet gentle, had steadied her trembling hands.

Her heart tumbled into her throat as she remembered how his fingers brushed her skin while tending her scrapes. The memory of his warm scent—a mix of soap and cinnamon—lingered, bringing a blush to her cheeks. She drew a deep breath, attempting to calm the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Her lips curled into a wistful smile. What was this feeling? Memories from the orphanage surfaced, clear as day. Sitting close to Elijah as they made Valentines, she had felt the first stirrings of young love. His voice, tinged with hope and despair, had wrapped around her heart like a tender promise.

The raucous cawing of blue jays interrupted her reverie. Glancing toward the commotion, she saw them darting through the maple branches, their cries warning of some nearby threat, perhaps a snake slithering toward their nest. In the distance, a cow waded into the swollen pond, its lowing joining the symphony of summer sounds.

Sadie breathed in the earthy aroma of the grass and the warm breeze filling her senses. She closed her eyes again. Solitude gave her the space to think and dream. She wanted a family, a home of her own. Most of all, she wanted Elijah Brownstone by her side.

Her thoughts turned to the climbing morning glory vines on the fence row. Mixed in were other vines beginning to strangle the older headstones, overgrown by the brambles. Their creeping tendrils marred the dignity of the stones, and she resolved to clear them. Fetching clippers from the small garden shed nearby, she set to work.

The heat clung to her as she snipped and tugged at the vines. She piled the tangled mess in a heap, unaware of the faint, three-leafed warning on the shiny green leaves. The poisonous vines had woven themselves into the other climbing plants, but Sadie, engrossed in her task, paid no mind to them.

By the time she finished, her arms ached, and the sun was lower in the sky, casting late afternoon light over the cemetery. She straightened, brushing her hands on her skirt. She paused, glancing toward the pile of vines. "I'll burn that later," she murmured to herself, then headed home. Supper with Elijah was just hours away, and the thought quickened her steps.

As she walked away, the cemetery fell silent again, save for the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the faint song of cicadas. A quiet peace enveloped the space, though the vines lay in wait; their irritation was a lesson still to come.

 CHAPTER TEN

Sadie saw Lillian's house in the distance as she walked home. She noticed the slight itch as her hands and wrists turned red. Before she turned on the street to take her there, Tommy Dabbs rode his red bicycle toward Sadie, his hair blowing in the breeze and his face red from the exertion. When he was close to Sadie, he slammed on his brakes, making the tires slide on the dirt road. His laughter filled the air as he said, "Hello, Miss Danley! Do you like my new bicycle? Pa put a basket on the front for me!"

Sadie laughed at the young boy's daring antics. "Yes, it's a nice one! I'm glad to see you out riding in the afternoon sunshine."

"Mama had me ride to the store for baking powder." He glanced at the sack in the basket. "Hey, when are we going to play ball again?"

"Oh, very soon. When I return to school, look for me there, and we can practice. Is that alright with you?" She watched Tommy's face break into a giant smile if that could happen.

"Oh yes, that's great! I gotta go. See you later!" He waved and then took off again, riding like the wind down the road.

Sarah Ann and Florence sat with Lillian on the front porch when Sadie arrived home. A plate of cookies sat between the sisters, and their laughter and chatter filtered out toward the street.

"Halloo!" Lillian called. She wore a floral scarf about her hair, and she sipped from a teacup.

Florence raised her hand as she bit into a frosted cookie. A closed book lay on her lap, her lorgnette on top.

Sarah Ann wore the apron from the cafe and informed her, "We were just talking about you!"

Sadie smiled to herself. The sisters were always a bright spot on an ordinary day. Their antics were funny to watch. Sadie wondered what it was like when they were younger, still living at home. They had other sisters and one brother, and their parents were deaf! What a household that must have been. She compared her home life to theirs. Before her father was killed in the fire and her mother was taken to an asylum, they had a happy life together. Her brother, John, just a year younger than she, always kept the family laughing. Younger sister Phoebe was the baby darling, and Sadie and John kept watch over her while playing in their big backyard.

"I hear that you're meeting a certain young man for supper tonight," Sarah Ann called out, her face bright and teasing. "He came by the cafe this morning to make sure we had a table reserved just for you two." She waggled her eyebrows.

Florence and Lillian chuckled and made funny noises in their throats. "Elijah Brownstone's a good catch," Lillian interjected.

"Oh, Sadie caught his eye when they came to the orphanage to adopt. Elijah begged his father and mother to let him stay with her so he could help make the Valentine's party decorations. They enjoyed their time together!" Florence added to the conversation.

"And so handsome, just like Horace," Sarah Ann said. "That black hair is shiny like a crow's wing." She sighed, and then a little laugh escaped her lips. "And Horace got his looks from his father, and so on, down the line…"

"Horace's mother was a looker, too," Lillian interjected; her face was wistful. I wish she were still with us. God rest her soul."

Sadie knew her face was beet red, and it wasn't from the warmth of the June day. She rolled her eyes and stopped at the bottom of the steps. "He wants to catch up with what we've been doing for the past ten years." Her stomach rumbled. Smiling, she added, "My stomach is ready for a good meal."

"Cookie?" Lillian handed the plate to her.

Shaking her head, Sadie turned them down. "Don't want to ruin supper. How's the library planning going?"

All three sisters' eyes widened, and their mouths dropped open. "Oh, Zim is coming soon to start the renovations on the house." Sarah Ann's long face beamed. Her husband was a regular town handyman, always helping somebody do something.

"We'll have a library in no time!" Florence added, sitting straight and regal in her chair.

"My house is being turned upside down, but it'll be worth it!" Lillian's chubby face looked forlorn, but she brightened. "As soon as the library is open, it'll be a glorious day!"

"I'm itchy and hot. I'm taking a long bath and getting ready to meet Elijah." Sadie made her way inside the house.

***

Sadie arrived at the cafe and was taken to a corner table, where roses in a vase graced the table. A white linen cloth covered the table, and water goblets and a pitcher of cold water waited. She poured a drink from the pitcher and was about to sip when Caroline and Andrew appeared before her. Andrew held their youngster, Brady, by the hand.

"There's our schoolteacher. Sadie, how are you?" Andrew's greeting was warm and friendly. He wore a brown vest over a white shirt and brown pants. A silver star adorned his lapel. He pushed his cowboy hat back from his forehead.

Brady wore the same clothing as his father, and a paper star was pinned to his vest. His cowboy hat was a bit big and fell just shy of his eyes. His blonde hair peeked out from around his little ears. The four-year-old's eyes were as blue as the summer sky. He stood still, looking up at Sadie.

"Hello, Sadie." Caroline's voice was smooth and cold like molasses in January.

"Hello." Sadie's answer was nervous, and her words shook slightly. She spoke to Brady, "And you must be Brady?"

Brady's head bobbed vigorously as he answered, "Yeah, I'm Bady Cowe."

Sadie noted Brady's speech impediment. "Pleased to meet you." She stuck out her hand to the little boy, and they shook.

"We came in to eat. Caroline's feeling mighty tired tonight, so I told her not to cook." Andrew's voice held laughter and friendliness. His bright blue eyes sparked with happiness. Brady squirmed, looking around the cafe.

Sadie watched Caroline touch Andrew's arm and command, "Andrew, you and Brady get a table. I'll be right there. I want to speak with Sadie." Her face was drawn, and dark circles rimmed her eyes, and her mouth held no smile.

Andrew smiled at his wife, looked at Sadie and touched his hat, and led Brady to a nearby table.

Caroline plopped down on the vacant chair next to Sadie.

"How are you feeling?" Sadie's voice was polite. She knew the pregnancy was weighing on Caroline's body.

Caroline ignored Sadie's question. She hurried the conversation along, "I know you're meeting Lige here tonight for supper." Her blue eyes glanced from the cafe door and back to Sadie. "But don't get any big ideas, Sadie Danley." She leaned toward Sadie, her voice dripping with icy hate. "Elijah is seeing Abby Crowe, Andrew's sister." She watched Sadie's eyes grow round.

Satisfaction spread over Caroline's face. "Oh yes, they're practically engaged. I watched them whispering last night while they sat together. Abby's a darling girl; my brother is lucky to have snatched her. We all expect that Lige will ask for her hand since he's returned from his circuit."

Sadie's first thought was to laugh in Caroline's face. But she didn't want to entice the woman further and make the conversation ugly. Instead, her face pulled into a poker face, and she murmured, "And, Caroline, why would I care?"

Caroline drew back for an instant, clearly surprised at Sadie's nonchalance. "Just a friendly bug in your ear, that's all," Caroline spat out. "Don't get any big ideas that Lige is up for grabs."

Sadie did not look away from Caroline's rude stare; she held her own. She had to stand up for herself to stay in Rocky Corners. "It never crossed my mind." She couldn't help but arch her brow at Caroline.

Caroline drew herself up from the chair, her belly heavy with her baby. "See you around."

Sadie watched Caroline hurry to her husband and son just as Elijah entered the cafe. Catching a glimpse of his sister, Elijah threw his hand up, smiled, and then stood before her.

"Sorry, I'm a few minutes later than I promised." He beamed at her as he sat down. The smell of cinnamon and whiskey swirled around the table. "Did you see Caroline and her family?"

"Oh yes," Sadie answered.

A waitress appeared to hand menus to the couple, and the subject was dropped. They enjoyed a dinner of roast beef, vegetables, and warm buns fresh from the oven. Butter melted over the tops, and when Sadie took a bite, her mouth burst with homemade warmth and goodness.

All through dinner, Elijah talked about the last ten years and the effort he had to put into medical school. Sadie told Elijah about her time in college and how Florence had decided to come to Rocky Corners to join her sisters and her nephew.

Elijah reached for her hand but stopped. "Your hands are swollen. Are you alright?"

"Other than itching badly, I'm okay."

He dismissed her answer and went on, "I'm quite pleased that you were able to attend teacher college and now have a marvelous career," Elijah commented as he sipped his coffee.

"Well, that's quite the mystery," Sadie added. "I don't know how Miss Florence came up with the payment. But I'm glad that she did. I intend to pay her back as soon as possible."

Elijah nodded, wiping his mouth with the napkin. "Father won't hesitate to help you if you ever need a bank loan. I intend to visit him very soon and inquire about buying a house. It's time I leave my parents' house and have a place to call home."

Sadie thought momentarily, then inquired, "Are you thinking of getting married?" Her breath caught on the last word, but she needed to know his intentions toward Abagail Crowe and if Caroline was telling the truth.

His face changed from pleasant to horrified in an instant. "Married?" His laughter bounced off the ceiling and turned everyone's heads in their direction. "God forbid! No, never!"

"I'm sorry…" Sadie's voice was torn with shock when she started to speak, but Elijah cut her off.

"I have no intention of ever marrying. I'm quite happy as a bachelor, coming and going as I please. Like other couples I know, I shan't be tied to an unhappy, loveless marriage." He shook his dark head and took another drink of coffee.

Sadie felt her face drain of all hope. Her dream melted away like snow in the hot sun. Why was he so adamantly against marrying? She swallowed the heavy lump in her throat and brightened. That meant Caroline was way off base and that he wouldn't ask Abagail Crowe for her hand. But that meant he would not ask her for hers, either.

For Sadie, the evening ended on a sour note. Her body was itching with a slight burning sensation, which made her want to jump into Indian Creek. But Elijah's confession made her heart break. The ache in her heart thrummed viciously because having a family was the one thing she longed to have that she would never have with Elijah Brownstone. She was ready to go home and let her heart crash to the floor.

***

Elijah wasn't sure how the evening had ended so abruptly. Was it something he said to Sadie? He thought their evening would be fun to catch up on the past and get acquainted again. After all, they barely knew one another. Spending two days together ten years ago hardly qualified them as friends. However, for ten years, he carried that paper heart with him and thought of her freckles that danced across her nose.

He scrunched his eyes closed. He did feel something for the girl who had cut a simple red heart out of paper, signed her name on it, and given it to him. He thought of her ginger hair, hanging like bouncing ribbons over her shoulders, her laugh, making anyone stop to take notice, and those emerald eyes! Sparkling with love and wonder.

To him, Sadie Danley was delightful. No, she was more than delightful. She was everything he could want in a wife.

And then, it occurred to Elijah. His eyes popped open. He had been a fool. He answered her question with gusto about never wanting to marry! Reality hit him hard. His heart thundered in his ears. He shook his head, upset and angry. The echoes of Horace and Sue Ellen's arguments pounded his head. The visions of their angry faces and scalding words threw cold water on Elijah's thoughts of love and marriage. His gut felt stomped upon, and the energy drained from his body.

At that moment, Elijah knew that he thought of Sadie Danley as a friend, yes, but maybe even more. He wanted to be with her, hear her laughter, make her smile, and take care of her for the rest of her life. And the truth was, he did want to get married. He thought of the house he would buy and fill it with a big, happy family. He gulped down the panic and turmoil that came with those thoughts.

He was not ready. Would he ever be? What was he going to do? Could he take the chance and marry Sadie to have it end up like his father and mother's marriage? No. The answer was certainly a big no. He could not do that to himself, and he would not do that to beautiful Sadie.

But how could he undo what he had just done? Or should he even try to undo it? He stared through the window at the inky night, and stars twinkled in the heavens. He had a choice to make. Take the chance and marry Sadie. Or love her from afar and never commit.

Quickly, the answer came. Although he had only been home for two days, as soon as he finished up with the patient appointments, he would leave—get away from Rocky Corners and the woman he longed to have. He closed his eyes when dread washed over him. There was just one problem. He would have to return eventually. Because now Sadie Danley lived in his hometown.