Chapter 14 - One Dance in a Quiet Kitchen
Lahi collided with Sarah first.
Then grabbed Elias.
“You came back.”
Sarah knelt.
“We promised.”
Lahi examined both as if checking for damage.
“Crowe?”
“Still annoying,” Sarah said.
Elias looked at her.
“That is one description.”
Lahi nodded seriously.
“Bad.”
“Yes.”
For several days life returned to routine.
But Sarah had changed.
Elias noticed.
She laughed less.
She avoided being alone with him.
When he entered the kitchen, she found work somewhere else.
Finally he stopped her near the pantry.
“What did Crowe say?”
“Nothing.”
“You've been saying nothing for four days.”
“Maybe nothing is happening.”
“You're terrible at lying.”
Sarah's face tightened.
“I am not lying.”
“You are avoiding.”
“That is different.”
He blocked the doorway.
She stared.
“You are my employer, not my jailer.”
Elias immediately moved aside.
“Sorry.”
Sarah regretted the sharpness.
“Elias…”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You're right.”
He left.
That evening Sarah found him repairing tack.
She sat nearby.
“Crowe said I'd become unnecessary.”
Elias looked up.
She continued before courage vanished.
“He said you need me because Lahi is hurting. That when she gets better, I'll go back to being hired help.”
Elias stared at her.
“And you believed him?”
Sarah's eyes flashed.
“I spent most of my life learning exactly how quickly usefulness ends.”
“He doesn't know me.”
“Neither do I completely.”
“You know enough.”
“Do I?”
Elias stood.
Sarah did too.
“You want truth?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I don't need you to save Lahi.”
Sarah's throat tightened.
“I don't need you to save this ranch.”
He stepped closer.
“I want you here when nothing is wrong.”
Sarah blinked.
“When there is no crisis.”
Another step.
“When the stove works.”
A tiny smile.
“When Lahi doesn't need help sleeping.”
Closer.
“When the bank is paid.”
His voice dropped.
“When there is no reason left for you to be useful.”
Sarah's eyes filled.
“I want you anyway.”
Silence.
“What if I don't know how to believe that?”
“Then I'll keep proving it.”
Sarah looked down.
Elias lifted her chin carefully.
“May I?”
She knew what he meant.
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
Softly.
No urgency.
No grand gesture.
It felt less like being swept away than finally arriving somewhere.
When they separated, Sarah whispered:
“That took you long enough.”
Elias laughed.
“You could have kissed me.”
“I considered it.”
“When?”
“Christmas.”
“You didn't.”
“You stepped on my foot.”
“That remains unproven.”
She kissed him again.
A small sound came from the hallway.
They turned.
Lahi stood there.
Her eyes were enormous.
Sarah stepped away.
“Lahi—”
The child frowned.
“Kissing?”
Elias cleared his throat.
“Yes.”
Lahi considered.
“Why?”
Sarah tried not to laugh.
Elias looked helpless.
“Because…”
He glanced at Sarah.
“Because I care about her.”
Lahi looked at Sarah.
“You care Papa?”
Sarah's expression softened.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Elias muttered:
“This interrogation is unfair.”
Lahi waited.
Sarah knelt.
“A great deal.”
Lahi smiled.
Then:
“Good.”
She walked upstairs.
Elias stared.
“That went better than expected.”
Sarah laughed.
The next evening Lahi demanded music.
“We don't have music,” Elias said.
Lahi pointed.
“Sarah sing.”
So Sarah hummed.
Elias held out his hand.
“No.”
Sarah shook her head.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“My feet have only recently recovered.”
Lahi giggled.
“Dance.”
Outnumbered, Sarah accepted.
They moved around the kitchen.
Lahi danced with the rag doll.
For fifteen minutes, Thorne Ranch held nothing but warmth.
Then someone knocked.
Sheriff Bell.
His expression erased the room's happiness.
“What happened?” Elias asked.
“The bank produced original loan papers.”
“Good.”
“No.”
Bell removed his hat.
“The disputed signatures match yours better than we expected.”
Elias stared.
“That's impossible.”
“They hired an examiner.”
Sarah felt cold.
“And?”
“He says they're authentic.”
Elias slammed one hand against the table.
“They aren't!”
Bell nodded.
“I believe you.”
“But?”
“The court may not.”
Sarah looked at the quilt draped over a chair.
The home they had begun rebuilding suddenly felt fragile.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“Hearing in nine days.”
“And if we lose?”
Sheriff Bell looked toward Lahi.
He did not answer.
He did not need to.
Crowe could take the ranch.
That night Elias sat alone on the porch.
Sarah joined him.
“We'll find something.”
“What if we don't?”
She sat.
“Then we lose land.”
“My family built this place.”
“I know.”
“Elizabeth is buried on the hill.”
“I know.”
“Lahi was born here.”
Sarah took his hand.
“You asked me to believe you wanted me when nothing was wrong.”
He looked at her.
“So believe me now.”
“Believe what?”
“That a home is not only land.”
His expression twisted.
“That sounds easy for someone who hasn't had one.”
Sarah flinched.
Elias immediately regretted it.
“I didn't mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
She stood.
“Sarah.”
“No.”
She turned.
“You are right.”
Her voice broke.
“I haven't had one.”
She went inside.
Elias remained on the porch knowing he had wounded the person he most wanted to protect.
Then he noticed movement near the barn.
A lantern.
Someone was inside.
Elias stood.
“Who's there?”
The lantern disappeared.
He ran.
By the time he reached the barn, whoever had entered was gone.
But the metal box containing Crowe's document had been forced open.
The evidence was missing.
And on the ground lay one torn piece of paper containing only three handwritten words:
May you like
Ask Elizabeth's ledger.
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