Chapter Thirteen
The weather was perfect with a sun that shone just to the point of warming but causing no irritation. The birds chirped in a delightful chorus, their notes carrying a majestic tune. Everything was right with the world. That is, except for one thing. James.
Although the day was clear, there was a strange haze that seemed to envelop around James, his image a tad distorted that left Sarah feeling that something was off, yet she could not puzzle out what that was. However, she pushed aside the befuddlement as she looked into the eyes of the man who stood before her
“For so long I have been a fool,” he was saying. He stopped to wipe a tear from his eye. “I have thought my ways were the best, but now I realize that I was wrong.” His voice was remorseful, thus Sarah believed he spoke the truth and felt nothing but pity for the man.
“It is not your fault that you were born a man,” she said as she patted his cheek. “Such a curse was not chosen by you, but rather was given.”
He lowered his head as if to look at the ground. “I know what you say is true,” he said softly. Then he looked at her with an earnestness she had never seen from him before. “But I ask one thing. No, ‘ask’ is not the correct word. I beg of you,” —he dropped to his knees— “please allow me to learn from you. Though it is impossible, I wish nothing more than to be wise, as you are. Will you grant me this wish?” He had clasped his hands together as he looked up at her in a beseeching manner.
She shook her head at him. “You make such a request in this manner?” she asked briskly.
He lowered his gaze. “My sincerest apologies. I meant no…”
“Silence!” Sarah shouted.
He immediately went silent, the only sounds those of his weeping.
Sarah closed her eyes to allow the rays of the sun to wash over her. The man groveling before her would never match her wit; however, for some reason which she could not understand, she felt pity for him. Was it fair that beauty and wisdom had been given to her and not him? Though he was handsome, he lacked common sense and intelligence.
Thus, she opened her eyes and put her hand on his shoulder. “I will allow you close to me. You must listen and learn from my ways, and if I receive any argument from you, I will have you banished to the forest for eternity.”
James stood, his eyes now dry. The haze had returned around them, but his handsome face had a sharpness to it that had not been there when he knelt before her. “What do you wish?”
Sarah swallowed hard, her throat going dry. Her heart beat hard against her chest and her hands slightly trembled. “Kiss me,” she whispered.
His face took on a confused look. “I am sorry, what did you request?”
“I said ‘kiss me’,” Sarah repeated, pushing her body toward him.
His face showed no emotion and Sarah wondered if he had gone deaf. “I said kiss me, you fool!” she screamed as her body shot forward.
Sarah opened her eyes and glanced around in bewilderment. Indeed, the sun shone brightly on the eastern horizon as it had in her dream from which she just woke; however, James was not kneeling before her, but rather was squatted down on the forest floor, his hand inside his sack as if he had been searching for something.
“What was that?” he asked with a confused look on his face.
In that moment Sarah wished to dig a hole in the ground beneath her and crawl inside, never to return.
“Were you having a dream?” James asked.
“It…it is Shakespeare,” she managed to say. “I recite it every morning to start my day,” she said, hurrying to stand. She brushed the leaves from her dress in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.
“I see,” James said, and he returned to whatever it was he had been doing before she woke. He pulled out a hunk of bread and offered some to her. “Are you hungry?”
“No,” she replied. “However, I will eat because I do not want to hear you grumble about it all day.” She snatched the bread from him and returned to the tree. She thought on the dream from which she had just wakened and wondered why she wanted James so desperately to kiss her.
***
They had been riding for some time when they stopped by once again at a brook to allow the horses to drink. Sarah watched as James squatted down to fill the canteen, the view of his broad back sending a wave of heat through her.
When he rose, she quickly turned away lest he catch her staring. She needed to be more cautious and not allow herself to spend her time gazing at the man. If he were to catch her doing so, it would give him the impression that she held some deep desires for him, something of which she certainly did not hold.
“Here, you take the first drink,” he said, handing her the canteen.
Sarah took it without a word of thanks, though she was indeed glad to be put first for once. When she drank her fill, she returned the container to him and he lifted it to his lips. The muscles in his arm pulled at the sleeve of his coat, and Sarah wondered what it was that men did to create such a pleasing contour.
“The cottage across the way,” he said pointing to a small house set back into a copse of trees, “does it remind you of anything?”
She followed his gaze and stared at the building, wondering at what game he was playing. “It reminds me of any number of cottages I have seen before.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I was referring to Mr. Baxter and his stolen tomatoes.”
Sarah went to laugh but quickly stopped herself by pretending to cough into her hand. “I do remember quite well.”
James nodded and then walked toward the bank of the brook, leaving his back to her. Once again, Sarah was taken with the way the man wore his coat so well and how his breeches tightened around his well-formed leg muscles.
“You told me that his tomatoes were special,” he said without turning, “and that if we took one and planted it, it would produce a chest full of gold.”
“Yes, I recall,” she said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice. “It was simply a child's imagination, nothing more.”
“I begged you that day to keep away from the man’s garden. But you, Sarah,” —he turned and presented her with a wide grin— “you told me it would be just fine.”
Sarah nodded. Though she wished not to discuss memories of days past with him, she had thought of that day from time to time with fondness.
“I can still see you,” she said, finding herself warming to the subject, “the sweat rolling off your forehead as we gathered those tomatoes.” She laughed. “And when Mr. Baxter came rushing out screaming at us…he was so angry!”
A warm feeling rushed over her when James laughed. “Angry? I would say irate is a better way to describe the man’s reaction. However, the story you concocted at that moment…I believe it was your imagination which saved us that day.”
Sarah felt her face flush and assumed she had to be redder than the tomatoes about which they spoke. Her mind replayed the scene and she let out a laugh. “‘Please, sir, my husband and I are starving. We wish only to feed ourselves and our ten children!’” she recited, the memory making her laugh so hard she had to wipe at the tears in her eyes.
“Not that he believed us,” James gasped between laughter and wiping at his eyes. “No, as I look back, I wonder if he found the situation as amusing as we do now.” He shook his head. “Thankfully, he told no one.”
Sarah smiled as she looked over at James. There was one question about that day to which she never had an answer. “What made you finally go along with my plan? You were quite adamant to go against it.”
He smiled, then walked over to the horses and offered her Molly’s reins. “It was because I guessed that being defiant was harder work than going along with what you had contrived. And in the end, trusting you was well worth it.”
He offered her his hand and Sarah looked at it while contemplating his words. Though he was a scoundrel, he made a fair point. If she continued being mulish, it would only make what had to be done over the next month unbearable for them both. Let the man enjoy his time with her over the next few weeks while she suffered on and then they would part ways when he lost the wager.
Without a word, she took the offered hand and then mounted her horse. Neither spoke as they once again made their way toward her home, and Sarah’s mind drifted back to that day with the tomatoes and the worried expression a young James Foxworth wore on his face as Mr. Baxter yelled at them.
However, there was an aspect of the story she did not express verbally, one that was dear to her heart. For when she proclaimed that she and James were married and she took his hand in hers, she had felt giddy at the time. He would never know that it was in that moment she knew she had loved him.
When she glanced over at him, he had a broad smile on his face. “What is making you smile so?” she asked.
“Tomatoes,” he said as he shot her a quick glance.
Sarah let out a small laugh. “I am as well.”