with him to his home. He wanted her to meet his family, and they her, and to be there for his brother’s wedding. She was still trying to get over the trauma of her attack, however and would not commit. Although Hixson understood her reserve, he worried she might become a shut-in. Sarah hated to be seen, refused to go to town, and hid if anyone approached.
Her shyness was natural, Hixson thought, but he did not want her to become a prisoner of fear. Fear was something he understood all too well.
“Hixson, I can’t stand the thought of your family looking at me and knowing what happened. I’m so ashamed.”
He took her hands and looked into her beautiful eyes. “First: you have nothing to be ashamed of. This was not your fault. Second: I didn’t say anything to my family. It isn’t my place to tell them. If you ever feel close enough that you want to tell them, it’s up to you. If you don’t, that’s alright too. Either way, I love you. I loved you before and I love you now.”
Close to tears once again, and embarrassed by it, Sarah replied, “I love you too. I’ll go with you.”
“When we get there, Sarah Westbay, will you marry me?” Hixson asked.
Speechless, Sarah nodded.
Emma and Caleb returned that day. Emma’s mother passed away a week after Emma got there. She had spent the time watching over her mother and sewing. “Mother was in poor health for many years, and yet she lived to be 75. She died peaceful, with a prayer on her lips.”
Overjoyed to learn of their engagement, Emma felt like the life she had been wishing for Sarah might finally happen. Her own man had died 13 years before. He just didn’t wake up one morning; Emma never knew why. They had a good marriage. She knew what it felt like to have a man care, and wanted that for Sarah. But Emma knew, with Sarah’s gift, it would take a special man.
August 12th, 1865--Spotsylvania County, Virginia
Hixson left the roan mare in the care of Caleb. The boy promised to feed and exercise the horse, feed the chickens and gather the eggs. Caleb wished he could have taken care of Towzer, too. He missed her terribly.
Hixson took the other two horses to town and bought a light buggy from the livery. He hitched up the dappled grays and admired what a stylish team they made. With a beauty like Sarah on the seat and a handsome team like this, they’d turn heads all the way home.
Sarah was full of apprehension as she packed what little clothes she had. The bruises were still quite visible. Her ribs were still very sore and she had not regained her strength. Worse, she felt like there was a sign on her forehead, proclaiming her stain.
She tied her hair back with a ribbon, still too sore to wear it up or cover it. This was something new for her; she had covered her hair all her life at her Grandmother’s insistence.
Grandma had blamed the assault of Sarah’s mother on the assailant’s obvious fascination with her hair. Sarah had inherited those lovely strands, and out of fear Grandma made her conceal it. Sarah was more practical-minded and just thought he had taken her mother’s hair to sell to a wig maker.
Sarah packed several meals: just bread, cheese, preserves and other foods that traveled well. She also brought along bacon, coffee, a skillet and some other things they might want if they camped a few nights.
Emma showed up, arms laden. She brought treats of all sorts, and something special for her dear friend. Shutting the cabin door behind her, Emma said, “Sarah, darlin’, while I was at me Mother’s, I made something for you. I knew that your young man out there would want to take you home to meet his people.
“And you know I love you dear, but you aren’t the best seamstress around. She shook out a gorgeous green brocade dress, just the shade of Sarah’s eyes. It was the very height of fashion, and absolutely perfect for Sarah’s trim figure. ”It’ll make a lovely wedding dress, lass, but you could wear it after, too.” Emma hugged her young friend. “I only wish your sainted mother could have seen you, all grown up and about to be wed.”
“Oh, Emma! It’s beautiful! Thank you so much!” she carefully wrapped it up so it would stay clean on their journey. “Oh, I wish you could come with us.”
“Why can’t she?” Hixson walked in with Caleb. “We can all three fit comfortably in the buggy, and Caleb could stay here to watch out for both places. He’s big enough.”
“Can I, Ma? Please?” Caleb was thrilled with the idea.
With much cajoling, Emma finally agreed. So arrangements were made for Caleb to stay nights at their next-closest neighbor, the Croshours. He would take care of Sarah’s and his own home during the day and take his supper and breakfast with the neighbor.
Emma was back at the cabin, packed and ready, an hour later. She hugged her son, extracting many repeated promises to be careful, watch out, behave, be polite, don’t forget the eggs and so on. And they were off.
August 15th, 1865--Bedford County, Pennsylvania
The traveling was harder on Sarah than she expected. She thought she was more recovered than she really was. The roads were fairly good, but the jolt of the buggy was taking its toll. Her head began to hurt again and her double vision returned. She was having trouble getting a full breath for the aching in her sides.
Not one to draw attention to herself, Sarah said nothing. But when her headache became severe enough to make her vomit, Hixson and Emma couldn’t help but notice. She dismissed their concerns, and insisted they press on.
They had made excellent time and were already well into Pennsylvania when Sarah had trouble rising from her bed one morning. Emma and Hixson decided a day of rest would do them all good, horses too.
Hixson felt guilty for pushing her to go in the first place, but now they were too far to turn around. He made her as comfortable as possible. She rested that day in the shade, her eyes covered to ease her aching head. Sarah felt like such a baby, making everyone stop the trip for her. She didn’t know what else to do, though. She tried to put her chagrin away and just rest.
Emma was glad to have the break. Her bottom was beginning to smart, too. She was accustomed to going everywhere on her feet, spending very little time in any day sitting down. She might sit long enough to darn a sock and that was about it. She would never complain, but sitting all day on the hard buggy seat was making her very uncomfortable.
Hixson went fishing in the nearby creek, hoping to catch dinner. He kept an eye on the camp, cautious as always. Emma strolled over, smiling.
“Me Dad used to brag that he’d never worn out a chair in his life. Right now, that doesn’t seem like much of an accomplishment!” She rubbed her bottom in a most unladylike way and laughed.
Hixson never knew what to expect from this irreverent redhead. He laughed hard enough to lose his fish, which got Emma laughing. He looked over and saw Sarah, looking over at them, watching and smiling.
It meant so much to her that Hixson and Emma were friends. She loved these two people, and Caleb, like no others alive.
A day’s rest and a fish dinner had improved Sarah’s uncertain health somewhat. She insisted they go on in the morning. “We’ll never get there if we don’t keep going.”
August 16th, 1865--Dover, Pennsylvania
The trio arrived at the Morris family farm in the early afternoon. Sarah had weakened with the traveling. Climbing down from the buggy was more than she could manage, and then she discovered she could barely stand. Her color was gone. It was easy to see she was in bad shape. She was humiliated to be in such a state at this first meeting.
Mrs. Morris took over, knowing at once that little courtesies could wait. She had been heating water for washing anyway and instructed, “Eliza you go draw a bath. I’ll get a bed ready. Hixson, you help her upstairs.”
Emma fit into the scenario without effort. Awkward introductions were forgotten, and Emma’s natural work ethic made her belong instantly.
Hixson carried Sarah upstairs, and was promptly chased away by his mother. “Let the women take care of your young lady here. She’ll be fine with us.”
Eliza heated fresh rinse water
on the stove, and prepared a light meal for her future sister. When the bath was drawn, Mrs. Morris helped Sarah into the tub. She gasped when she saw the bruises and those horrible bites on the girl. What had happened was obvious. The enigmatic letter from her son suddenly made sense.
Sarah looked into Mrs. Morris’ stunned face. “Please don’t say anything. I’m fine now, really. Don’t make a fuss over me, please? I’m already so embarrassed.”
“Does Hixson know? I mean, exactly, what happened to you?”
“Yes.” Sarah cringed to say it. “He and Emma took care of me.”
“Then it’s alright, dear. You just take your time and get well again. I won’t tell anyone else.”
Mrs. Morris understood why she would want to keep such a thing private. She changed the subject. “Will it be alright for Emma to share this room with you? Or would you rather be alone?”
“I’d be happy to stay with Emma. I don’t need to be alone, I’m fine. Really.”
Mrs. Morris looked closely at Sarah and decided she had at least four broken ribs. The trip could have killed her, and she suspected Sarah knew it. She was so feverish and shaky that just getting out of the tub left her out of breath.
Sarah was in serious condition, though she would not admit it. Mrs. Morris laid a cool hand on Sarah’s face, trying to gauge the severity of her state. The coolness of her firm hand felt tender and caring to Sarah. She was