Does it hurt her if it’s a bad person?” Hixson was already so worried about Sarah, he hated to think that she was vulnerable to anything more.
Emma took a deep breath to collect her thoughts. “You know, I’m not exactly sure. It seems like it takes something extra out of her if a person is hurt intentional, you know? Like all them soldiers coming back from the war? But if the person is mean or evil, then it’s hard on her. She helped a fellow one time and it made her real sick. She threw up for three days after. We didn’t know why until the sheriff caught him weeks later and hung him. He’d been shot trying to steal a horse. She can’t never tell ahead of time if it’s a bad one, I don’t know why.” Emma said.
I know why, Hixson thought, it’s because the whole world is darkness and light shines only on them. That’s what she said. It was just what he needed: another side to the enigmatic Sarah.
August 24th, 1865--Dover, Pennsylvania
Emma was astonished and encouraged by the way the Morris family treated Sarah after they saw her gather the light for Poppa. People were always so timid around her afterwards; sometimes they were truly fearful. This lovely family was gentle with her and accepted her. They treated her with love and respect, and the same earthy barnyard humor they used on each other.
Momma and Emma were in cahoots to try to fatten the girl up. She had lost weight since the assault, it was true. Sarah wasn’t very big to begin with and couldn’t afford to lose any. Plus Emma didn’t think her color was all that good, so she tried her best to pamper the stubborn Sarah a little bit. For all the good it did to try.
Since the first day Sarah had been there, Momma had noticed something about Hixson’s relationship with her. In bed that night, she shared her thoughts with Poppa.
“I think there’s something extra-special about them two, Poppa. It’s like heaven meant for them to be together.” Momma began.
“Aw, they’re just two youngsters in love, that’s all.” Poppa wasn’t very keen on destiny.
“No, it’s more than that. Look at your son. It’s easy to see he loves her. But he isn’t silly with it. You know how some boys get crazy over a girl. He isn’t doing that. He treats her more like they’ve been married forever. He knows how and when to help her, without treating her like she’s helpless. It’s more than just the calf-eyed young love, or him wanting what all young men want a woman for.”
Poppa leaned up and looked at her. The half-grin he wore showed his thoughts and Momma chuckled.
“Well, alright, I’m sure he wants that! But that doesn’t seem to be all he wants. I think he needs her. And I think she needs him.”
With 26 years of marriage behind them, Poppa had learned to consider Momma’s insights seriously. He thought about what she said, and compared it to what he had observed. Hixson was being very sensible about his love, Poppa decided. He seemed to be able to attend to her needs without doting. Sarah loved Hixson with everything she had, which was considerable. But she wasn’t coy or simpering about it.
Another thought, which Poppa kept to himself, was how Hixson came home from the war. Many of the young man came home with bad wounds. Many more came home with social diseases. Poppa thought it remarkable that Hixson was spared that. Maybe even that meant something.
“I think you’re right, Momma. I like the way they are with each other. Their love seems deep, but private. It isn’t the honey-sweet, show the world kind of love like you see with youngsters nowadays. It’s for them—and them alone. They’re a good match.” Poppa said.
“There’s another thing.” Momma continued. “I can see that Sarah needs a man like our Hixson: someone who is strong and fearless and makes good decisions.”
“You don’t think she makes good decisions on her own?”
“I don’t mean that. I wish you could have been watching what happened when you broke your arm. When you were hurt, she changed. All she saw was you and what you needed right at the moment. I don’t think she even knew the rest of us were in the room.”
Momma had his full attention now. “She was hurt when she came here, you know. I don’t think she can tell what’s going on around her, if there’s someone in pain. I think if someone with dangerous friends was hurt, it could go bad for her. Might be she needs someone like our Hixson, who sees people with clear eyes.”
Poppa was very interested. “What do you think Hixson needs that she gives him, then? Well, besides the main thing?” Interested or not, Poppa was still Poppa.
“I’ve been thinking about that. She’s a lot stronger than you think. She’s been having a hard time lately, but don’t let that fool you. I think she’s a little ball of iron. Hixson should have someone who is strong like that, but can still need him. I think he requires someone he can really truly help. She has an important calling of some sort, and he can help her with that. But he also needs someone who isn’t all need. She has to be a real companion, too, not someone who is just a bottomless well of needs to throw his efforts into. You know?”
She’s absolutely right, thought Poppa. “What did you mean about her being hurt when she came here? I saw some bruises on her face: figured it was buggy accident or something. It wasn’t?”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell.” And Momma refused to say more.
A piercing scream came from across the hall. In seconds, everyone in the house was out of their beds and looking for the danger.
Hixson had recognized the scream and headed straight for Sarah’s room. Emma was already trying to wake her.
Sarah’s hair was plastered to her face and neck in sweat and tears. She was shaking so hard the entire bed quaked. She cried out for Hixson and wept. Hixson held her tightly, being careful to not make her feel restrained. Feeling restrained always made the nightmare worse.
“I’m right here, you’re safe darling. Wake up now. Wake up. It’s Hixson, I’m here.” He repeated many times.
Momma lit the lamp, hoping it would help to wake her from her terror. Poppa was the first to comprehend what he saw in the warm lamplight. The meaning of what they all saw took his breath away.
The bedding was flung onto the floor, and Sarah’s night gown was twisted and bunched up high on her legs. She had torn the front of it in struggling with her nightmare, showing quite a lot of cleavage.
Momma didn’t have to keep the secret anymore. They could all see huge dark bruises on the insides of her slim thighs. They could see the deep bite marks, still red and blue.
Sarah’s nightgown was damp from her perspiration. The fine white cloth allowed the blackened bruises on her ribs to show. Her shoulder showed black through the cloth, too. Charlton and Eliza were stunned. Poppa was appalled, knowing that for all the wounds he could see on Sarah, there would be more he could not.
When Sarah woke from her nightmare, she saw the entire family gathered around. “Oh, no, what I have done? I am so sorry. Oh, please go back to bed.... I am so ashamed.”
Even young Eliza grasped the meaning of Sarah’s wounds. Charlton imagined his Annie in a similar situation and felt sick.
With blinding clarity, Poppa understood the full import of what Momma had been saying. What happened to her had been a brutal, ugly outrage. He had come to love this girl like his own daughter. Poppa fought the tears that filled his eyes.
He picked up the sheet from the floor, and gently tucked it around Sarah’s shaking frame. Poppa’s voice was hoarse with choked back emotion.
“Don’t you be ashamed, honey. You just had a bad dream. Looks like you’ve got good reason for nightmares. It’s all over now. You’re safe here. Your Hixson will stay ‘til you feel better.”
Eliza whispered to Momma, “How will it look for Hixson to stay? They ain’t married yet.”
Poppa turned to Eliza, but addressed everyone. His voice was restrained, but firm.
“I don’t give a tinker’s damn how nothing looks in my own house. Someone is suffering, you care for them and that’s that. What happens in this family is nobody else’s business. We keep our own counsel.
” The unspoken warning was: shut up. This is a private matter. If she had wanted to tell everyone, she would have.
Not ordinarily a demonstrative man, Poppa bent down and gently kissed the top of Sarah’s head, much to his family’s surprise. Then he walked out into the starlit summer night and tried to collect himself.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry.” Eliza really hadn’t meant it as a condemnation. “Can I bring you anything?”
Hixson suggested a little cool water might be helpful.
Momma came over and cupped Sarah’s tear-streaked face in one hand. “It’s going to be alright now, honey. You’re in good hands. Six pairs of them, I think.” She, too, kissed Sarah’s head and went to console her husband.
Charlton was speechless. With brimming eyes, he kissed his future sister. On impulse, he kissed his brother on the top of the head, patted him, and left quietly. Hixson watched him leave and was astonished at the tenderness in his brother.
Eliza returned with the cool water, added her kiss to the others, and hugged Hixson’s neck for a moment.
“Emma, would you like to sleep in my room? It’s a big bed.”
Emma brushed Sarah’s cheek and said goodnight. Hixson held Sarah through the short summer night. She had stopped sobbing, but tears still rolled down her face as she trembled.
After what she had seen this night, it was Emma’s intention to try to talk Sarah into staying