Chapter Three

I waited a few more days before finally deciding I could go into town. I chose to wait partially because I loved the little house. In fact, I adored it, and I loved it here. I also chose to stay because of Sam. He told me he would let me go by myself, but only if I allowed myself to heal for a bit. Of course, I had given into his pleading. I couldn't help it.

The next couple of days, he told me some stories about his life, and gave me a better tour of the house. It was a strange design, with a smaller room built in the front, a smaller room off the side for the bedroom, and the loft that was my favorite. Up the stairs was a small little upstairs that would probably only be classified as a loft, and it was relatively cold up there. But it had a small octagonal window that was perfect for watching the sun rise and set. Also, you could see everything on the property form that very same window, the barn that he used to keep Mary Lou his donkey in, the chickens that ran around the yard searching for stray seed, and his old cat slinked around the yard every now and again when he wasn't meowing at the door. The raggedy tabby had become my friend over the past few days, the old tom cat that Sam had named DustBunny when he saved it from the woods. He often decided to sleep curled up next to my injured side.

Speaking of night, he always insisted that I have the bed, because I was wounded, I was a lady, and ladies shouldn't sleep on the floor. I reminded him time and again that he too, was wounded too, but he always pushed it off. Then I tried a new approach, telling him he could sleep in the bed with me, but he said he wouldn't do that until we were married. I knew he wanted to. He wanted to very badly, I could tell. But he didn't. Maybe because he was nervous.

But every night, I would get into bed in my white under-dress that was all I had to serve as pajamas, and Sam would come to my side and whisper "I love you, Katherine Barlow", and I would smile as he gently kissed me on the lips and climbed down onto the floor. I mentioned that he could sleep up in the loft where there was a soft mattress and nice view of the yard, but he insisted that he slept right next to me, in case I needed anything.

While I listened to him fall asleep, a soft snore in the back of his throat, I would try to plan out how I would sneak back into Green Lake to get my things. I obviously couldn't swim, seen as how the lake went on for miles, and I hadn't swam in years anyway. I eventually decided that I would have to take Sam's boat and conceal it so I could sneak into town. I would have to drag it into the woods to hide it, then figure out the best way to get my things in the present. Now that I had the plan, I knew waiting was over, and I was well enough to head to Green Lake in the morning.

"Sam," I tapped my nails quietly on the counter that night. It was particularly warm for September today, but night had made things chilly. A fire blazed in the hearth now, the warmth circulating around the room to warm us. "What if someone follows me back? They think you're dead."

He shook his head and smiled slightly. "Katherine Barlow, you must not have enough room in your head for anything but worry." Setting down his evening cup of coffee, he ran a finger down my temple to my chin. He knew that always tickled me, and he liked to see my smile. He often did it with the feather he'd given to me that I carried in my pocket, he'd steal it while I wasn't looking and come up from behind and tickle me. Sometimes he'd do it to wake me up, but I'd gotten smarter and hidden it under my pillow. But somehow, he still managed to get it. "Tomorrow, I'll be away in my onion patch, where no one can find me. I'll know when you're returning, because I can see you from there." He kissed my cheek and looked out the window. "Stop worrying, already."

I smiled again, mostly because of his charming effect. No other man had ever dazzled me before in my life, so the feeling of butterflies in my stomach were welcome. No, they weren't butterflies – these were more like birds, or less graceful bats flying around inside of me. "Will you please sleep in the bed tonight?"

"You sleep in the bed."

"Sleep with me." I took his hand and held it between mine. I knew it wasn't exactly comfortable for him to sleep on the floor every night, and it was his bed. Each morning, he woke unrested. Sam was about to give in, I could see it. So he took my hand and led me to the bed. After I had lied down, he did his regular routine where he leaned over and kissed me, then slid into the bed. Finally feeling comforted, I turned toward his side, wrapping my arms around his right one, closing my eyes.

The sun shining through the window and casting unusual shapes on the wall were what woke me in the morning. I was still huddled close to Sam when I opened my eyes, and he had his arms limply around me. they say that a person looks younger when they sleep, and I understood the meaning of it now. Sam looked about ten years younger than his age – a young teenager in his sleep.

He woke to a start, lifting his head up off his pillow groggily. "Is it morning?"

"It's morning." I smiled and pecked him on the lips. "I better be on my way within the next hour if I'm going to try and go unnoticed."

"Why would you want to?" he slightly startled me when he leaned over with his hands holding him up on either side of my torso, leaning down to kiss me. "Why would someone want to miss the prettiest face in the world?"

"Sam!" I giggled like a little schoolgirl as he got out of bed. He'd slept in his clothes, something I noticed he did often. "If you haven't forgotten, they tried to shoot me down, I doubt they'll be thrilled to see me."

He started to unbutton the brown vest that he wore over his white shirt, facing the window away from me as he watched the sun crawl up into its usual place. "Don't be afraid to club 'em upside the head if they try and hurt you."

"Sam! It would hardly be lady-like!" I exclaimed, throwing a pillow at his back. Then again, throwing pillows wasn't either.

"It would serve them right. But you're right, violence isn't the answer." He let his white shirt fall to the floor, and the muscles in his back flexed and moved under his skin. I couldn't keep my eyes off of them.

After he dressed, and we had breakfast, he led me down to where the boat had been tied for the past few days. He dragged it into the water, and it bobbed up and down with the tide.

"Careful." He waded partly into the water and lifted me into the wobbly, tippy Mary Lou. He gave a round-about check for leaks, cracks in the sealed tight wood, broken oar loops.

"I'll be fine. I promise." I placed my hand aside his cheek, guiding him to look at me. "I'll be there to collect my things, then I'll be back."

He smiled. "Every time I find a particularly pretty onion," he softly pinched my cheek. "I'll think of you."

I kissed the back of his hand. "There are pretty onions?"

"Well, of course. The perfect ones." He placed his boot on the stern of the boat. "I'll be watching for you."

"I'll expect you when I return." I winked at him and took the oars, bringing them in towards myself to propel. The sun wasn't at its highest, and I could see my breath. It wasn't as warm as yesterday; it was starting to feel more like fall.

"If anything goes wrong…" Sam trailed off worriedly. I fingered the falcon feather I tucked in my pocket.

"Don't be a doubter, Sam Garter." I winked at him again and pulled the light-weight oars inward again. He gave it a little nudge at the stern to give me a slight boost.

"Have a safe trip." He smiled and blew me a silly little kiss, tipping his hat. I pretended to catch it after ceasing rowing for a second. Sam smirked and turned to walk back to the house, pulling his coat up around his shoulders farther.

I soon realized that Sam just always made rowing look so easy, with his muscles he'd built up over time, and high stamina. He was so much bigger, and I was very small. I wasn't a weakling, but my arms tired out fast, and my sides started to ache. But I continued anyway.

The sun climbed higher, but it was still cold. Tidal water lapped the sides of the boat, spraying me with cold splashes, and I could see my breath each time I let it out. Looking over my shoulder, I could already see the other side of land, just the spot that I planned to dock, and conceal the boat in the trees and brush. The only thing I worried about now was being too noticed, and that dreadful Trout. If he saw me, things might go downhill. I hoped that he was out of town, or at least home, so I could get my things and flee.

I climbed out of the Mary Lou when I hit land, pulling it up onto the rocky shore. Clouds loomed overhead, like it might rain, an icy rain. It was even colder now, or so it seemed. The side of the turf seemed deserted, at least for now. But pulling the heavy boat by myself was easier than I thought, except for getting the minor rope burns, and I already had a few blisters from the wooden oars. I brushed off the pain and found a nice place where no one would find my means of transportation, and started towards town.

I lived in a tiny little house barely big enough for two people to have any elbow room. I lived on my own since I departed from my parents to start teaching and make something of myself. What would they think of me now? "Frolicking around with a colored man," Father would probably call it. "Don't you know they carry all sorts of diseases that we don't! You'll get yourself sick and killed touching him at all!" That was exactly what he'd say; I could hear it in my head. Mother might be a little more understanding, because once, she fell in love with my father. She long since stopped loving him when he started drinking, then beating, but she always tried. She always said she loved me more than air. She also taught me everything I knew. Never to let a man control you, first off. I knew that the man I'd found would never use his gender against me – he knew he was stronger, and bigger, but I could be just as intimidating if I wanted to! He was the one who let me row his boat across the lake by myself!

I leaned down at my doorstep and dug the key out of its secret hole in the brick foundation of the house, and quietly slipped it into the keyhole. The door creaked open, and I stepped inside, shutting it quietly because it was already cold inside. The house was just as I left it. A bushel of peaches sat on the small counter in a wooden basket, surely rotting, and I'd never pulled the plug on the sink, so dirty dish water sat still in the sink basin. Thank God I remembered to turn the burners off, or there might not be a house.

I walked into the small bedroom. The bed-sheets were still jumbled and untouched; a pillow was on the floor. Papers had fluttered off the desk because the window had been left open, but luckily, there was no damage from the rain. I opened the drawer to my bureau and checked to make sure my clothes were still there. They were, so I opened my small truck that I used for traveling that had been empty for a long time. Then I collected my clothes and neatly folded them in my trunk, tucking each thing in carefully. I picked it up by the handles and carried it to the kitchen where I put the last two jars of spiced peaches in between a few folds of clothing where they would be cushioned.

Happy to finally get out of my dirty, ripped clothes, I washed my face in the sink and dressed in fresh clothes. Then I did my hair in the mirror, tucking it under with a few pins, letting my newly-brushed curls hang down my back in one tail.

The trunk was already heavy on its own, and new weight to it made it even more difficult to carry. I had to set it down two separate times to open and close the door as it was. Whenever I took a step, it hit my knees. It was going to take a while to carry it all the way back to the boat. Slow baby steps did the trick, and the street looked pretty much deserted. Shop owners were preparing for the days, the town blacksmiths were clanging away in their shop, getting the fires ready. A few early-risers were doing their chores early. I stopped to rest my arms, holding my hand son my knees.

"Katherine?" I looked up and met the soft face of one of my friends, Levity. I'd known her for a long time, despite our age difference, and her sweet little children Abe and Ellen were some of my best, well-behaved students. "What in God's name do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, Levity!" I cried, wanting to throw my arms around her, but they were too tired. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms to keep them warm instead. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"I wish I could say the same." She hissed, taking my hand. "You've been gone for days! Everyone's been thinkin' you're dead!"

"I assure you, that I'm not. But Levity," I looked her straight in the eyes. "Can you keep a secret?"

I told my friend everything. How Sam and I did kiss in the schoolhouse, how I'd been shot in the woods, and how wounded Sam had found me. We'd survived together. She listened contently, and at the end of telling her how I needed to carry the trunk back to the hidden boat. I started to cry and pressed my forehead against her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back.

"There, there, Katherine, don't cry." She soothed in her mothering voice. Then, to my surprise, she picked up one end of the chest and motioned for me to pick up the other. It was much easier on my already-tired arms for two people to carry it, and we'd secured it in the boat and pulled it into the water in no time.

"How can I ever thank you?"

"Oh, I don't need payback. Sometimes you just do things to help people out." She smiled at me genuinely. "If you ever need anything, you come to me. oh, and tell that Sam of yours hello from me." she winked and smiled warmly.

My arms were so tired, I could barely row. I could feel the muscles clenching and straining each time I pulled the oars inward against the water, which seemed even more angry and lapped against the boat, rocking it with such a strong force. Everything seemed to move so slowly. I stopped for a moment to finger the falcon feather in my deep pocket. It made me wonder if Sam was watching me from his onion patch.

Finally, I saw the shore over my shoulder, and as promised, Sam was waiting for me. He pulled the boat up onto the stony beach and lifted me from the seat by my waist. His hands were so gentle – like he was afraid to break me or something.

"I'm alright, I'm alright, Sam." I reassured him, and he smiled, leaning down and kissing me. I closed my eyes, his eyelashes brushing against my cheeks, and wrapped my arms instinctively around his neck. His coat was warm, and his lips were even warmer.

"I know you are." He smile and kissed me between the eyes. "I see you got your stuff." He lifted the entire trunk up with such ease, I almost forgot how heavy it was. He made lifting it look so easy! "So, did you get blisters?"

I followed him into the house, sighing at the warmth of the blazing fire. Sam slightly laughed. "Let me see them."

I held out my palms for him and he laughed again. "You poor girl." Sam chuckled, gently cradling my tiny hand in his huge, calloused one. "Everything turns to callous eventually."

I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I didn't run into any trouble. And by that, I mean Trout."

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Good. Or I mighta had to show him that this isn't just for cutting onion roots." He flipped open his pocket knife, but put it away at my shocked expression.

"Sam…" I smiled lightly, stroking my thumb over his umber cheek.

"Oh, yeah… I have something for you." He said, stroking a bit of hair I'd missed with a pin back behind my ear.

"Oh Sam, you didn't have to get me anything." I put my hands on my hips. "Is it a pretty onion?"

He smiled widely, remembering our conversation from earlier this morning. "No, but I hope you think it's better." He reached into his pocket, and his hand emerged with a small ring. It was a dazzlingly shiny gold, with a small crystalized pearl imbedded in the socket in the middle.

"Oh… Sam." I said in awe. "It's – it's so… beautiful."

"It was my mother's ring." He said, taking my left hand and slipping it onto my ring finger. "There, now everyone will know you're taken."

I held my hand out in front of me, staring at the dazzling engagement ring. I had never seen one like it before. The shop in town had plenty of imported jewels – diamonds, opals, sapphires, even jades, but I'd never seen a pearl in one of the display windows.

"Sam," I smiled, it was all I could say, taking his face in my hands. "I think it's beautiful. It's the loveliest ring I've ever seen."

"I'm glad you like it." He smiled and put his hands on my shoulders. We're engaged now. We'll just need to find someone out of their mind to marry us."

I leaned up and pecked him on the lips. "Sam, where have you been? You smell like –" I took another whiff of his coat. "Hay?"

He smiled a mischievous smile. "Come out to the barn, I'll show you." Taking my hand, he led me out to the tiny little barn that he used to keep Mary Lou in. A few of the hens scattered as he pulled me by the hand through the yard, stirring up the dust with the hem of my skirt, and he pulled me through the wide, tall door.

A young donkey stood alone in the little stall, it's giant ears too big for its head. The little thing was a powdery gray color, nearly white at its young age, and it let out a high pitched bleat to greet me.

"Sam!" I grinned and playfully hit his arm. "What have you done this time?"

"Well, it's obviously a donkey."

"I can see that." I smiled modestly and reached out to pat the animals' little fuzzy forehead. It lowed at me, a soft tiny sound that was so adorable that I fell to my knees to wrap my arms around his fuzzy little neck. "He's perfect."

"I got him at the next town over." He kneeled down next to me and put his hand on my back. The baby brayed again and wobbled a small bit on his legs. His huge ears that were about three sizes too big for his face flicked at a fly. I brushed it away for him, and kissed the bridge of his long nose.

"There's a town near?" I took a break from watching our new pet lick his nose with his long tongue to look up at him.

"Not a town, really." He scratched his head, patting the ground for the donkey to come closer to him. He took a few steps and licked Sam's nose. "A small town, actually. More of a development. Not many people live there yet. I sometimes go there to get food or supplies. I bought him off of a guy trying to wean him off of his mother, and I figured I'd need a new donkey to pull a new cart."

"He's adorable." I said, stroking his surprisingly soft giant ears. "What's his name?"

"I figured I would call him Louie, for Mary Lou."

"That's perfect." I agreed, patting Louie's snout. He reminded me a lot of old Mary Lou. Every market day, when I'd see Sam, I would purchase extra onions to feed her, and hug her neck. My heart ached for the old girl, but the baby filled the hole.

"Once he grows a little, he'll be big enough to pull a cart." He held out an onion to him, and he eagerly took it between his teeth. "You look exhausted." Laughing a little, he stood again and climbed up to sit on the gate of the stall.

"I rowed across the lake twice, what do you think?" I slipped between the bars and laid lengthwise on a few bales of hay that were pushed together. He swung his legs over so he was facing the opposite way, so he could look at me. I held up my left hand above me, grinning and admiring it again. "And it's only midafternoon."

"Even with the sun, it's cold out. But I suppose it will be getting colder. It's nearly the end of summer." He pondered the thought for a short moment. "Maybe it will start snowing soon."

"It may be a little early for that." I said as he jumped down, his boots hitting the ground with a thump. He lifted my head up gently then sat down, setting it in his lap, looking down at me. I loved winter the most out of all the other seasons. It was the season where everyone wanted to be closer, friendlier. Of course, I'd always gotten some unwanted attention from men who wanted to take me out, give me things. There was another thing I hated about winter too. No Sam in winter. The onions didn't grow in the cold months, of course, and he had no cause to come into town.

He tangled his fingers in my hair gently, running them through the length of my long curls. "They know where I live, you know."

I opened my eyes that had since been closed as he absentmindedly played with my hair. "Yes… so?" then I realized. If they figured out – Sam and I, being together – it was only a short ride across the lake to grab us in our sleep. "Oh." My spirits sank. I didn't want to think about what they'd do to him, about what they would do to myself for finding me with Sam. The sheriff and police would do whatever Trout's family wanted, since the Walkers owned the town and the lake, not to mention that they paid their wages. I shuddered. "What do we do, then?"

Louie hee-hawed as if to answer, and rolled onto his back in the hay. It stuck to his coarse, dusty-looking fur.

"We move, I suppose." He sighed, and I could tell how much he loved the house. I loved the house, every bit of it. I was quiet for a while, rubbing my hand on Louie's stout, chubby belly. He nudged my hand through the bars and slobbered on it, making strands of fluffy white hay stick to my fingers. Where would Sam move us to? My heart ached at the thought of being separated from him again.

"Where would we move to, Sam?" I asked aloud. He removed his hat and tossed it down in the hay. I picked it back up and put it on Louie. He seemed to think he was quite handsome; he lowed quietly and ruffled up the hay he was laying on.

"There's a town, as I said. I know some people down there form when I go into town. I saw they were renting a few places. Maybe you could get a job, my onion patch is close enough to walk."

I turned to Louie, who did look dashing in Sam's hat. His big ears didn't fit in it, so they were pushed down until they were almost flat.

"What do you think, Lou? Do you want to move?"

He brayed in response.