A Mail Order Bride for the Miner (Love by Mail #2)(7)

Sarah shook her head trying to get rid of the memory as she did so many times before. She looked around with blurry eyes trying to find the way to the main road. But the forest was dark and she didn’t know her way. She was far both from town and from… Hank.

“No,” she muttered. Oh, Lord, no… Her throat hurt. She had screamed and cried. And Hank saw. He heard her hysterics.

“Stupid,” she said. “What’ll he think of me now?”

This was a stupid idea. She never should’ve let Olive talk her into this. How could she think she could keep her fear a secret? She couldn’t go near an open flame without panicking. The thoughts she kept at bay all this time flooded back in. How will she cook for her husband? How will she set fire to the hearth when she passes out at the thought of holding matchsticks? What use was she here? With a bigger family there was always someone to help her out, but here, with just the two of them?

The bushes moved behind her. She tensed.

“S-Sarah?”

She wiped her eyes and tried to make herself look proper. She looked up at her husband holding a lantern – will he still want her after this fiasco?

“I’m sorry,” she said, still on the ground. “I – I’m afraid of – of fire.” She ran a hand down her scars. “I never told you how I got these.”

Hank sighed and went down on one knee in front of her. She noticed he placed the lantern to the side, away from her.

“I’m so sorry I deceived you,” she insisted through tears. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me again after this. What good is a wife who can’t cook, who can’t manage a home… I’ll tell the pastor right now–”

“Sarah,” he repeated as he gently grabbed her face with his hand. He titled her chin towards him. “I – I have something t-to tell you.”

She pursed her mouth. Her heart was about to be broken. Here it comes.

“I’m not-not a-angry. In fact, I’ve – I’ve always ad - admired you - your courage.”

She teared up again. Hank was so kind. He must have been so disappointed, yet he didn’t want to upset her. But she sensed the anger boiling inside him. He was so angry that he couldn’t even speak properly.

“It’s all right, I understand.” She sniffled and gave him a small smile. It felt like lifting a ton of rocks. “I – I should’ve known, when you didn’t speak to me…”

“No!” Hank grabbed her hand with both of his. “I – I didn’t s-speak with y-you b-because–“

He gritted his teeth and squeezed her hand again. Was he angry at himself for having chosen the wrong bride?

“–b-because I… I didn’t w-want you to know this.” His face turned red.

“You didn’t want me to know…?”

“Th-this.” He sat down beside her, shoulders slumped, and waved his arms pointing at his face. “M-my – my condition.”

She raised a brow and inched closer.

“My thut – my s-stutter. My lithp. Urgh.” He clenched his fist. “My lisp.”

Sarah raised her brows and opened her eyes wide open.

He took a deep breath. “I – I had it when I was a child, b-but my father taught me to c-control it. It – it was difficult, so I barely spoke.” He took her hand. “S-single words are e-easier. I didn’t mean – I didn’t want you to know – I wath – I was afraid you’d leave if – if you found out.”

Praise God for this blessing! Hank hadn’t been disappointed in her. But straight away she felt bad for rejoicing at Hank’s problem. Sarah opened her mouth to say something, when a huge gust of wind lifted Sarah’s bonnet clean off her hair. At the last second Hank snatched it from the breezy thief.

“We b-better g-get inside.” He helped her to her feet and they trudged back to the house.

She feared facing the candles again, but the house was all dark when they reached it. Hank or his sister must have put out the lights. At that moment Sarah realized Betsy must heard her screams too and she blushed anew. How would she face Betsy tomorrow?

Hank entered the house first and placed the lantern on the table right next to a kerosene lamp. Sarah took a deep breath and found a spot on the ceiling to focus on.

“I’ve…” Hank turned to her. “Well, my s-sisters had prepared a room for – for you.”

Sarah gulped. She wondered if she should’ve said something about separate rooms, or separate beds even, but she didn’t want to be presumptuous.

Hank grabbed her hand, but he didn’t lead her upstairs. Instead, he led her to one of the two rooms just a few steps from the front door. He let her through into a spacious bedroom. The house was bigger than it seemed from the outside.

“This w-was my parents’ r-room.”

He stood next to the big bed and let her take in the insides illuminated by the lantern. There wasn’t much there in terms of other furniture. Sarah thought about Hank’s Ma spending her last days there, and he must have realized that too, as Hank quickly added “the mattress – is new. Betsy picked the blankets.”

“Grand,” Sarah muttered a bit overwhelmed by the day’s events.

“Do you – want me to…?” Hank placed the lantern on a low table in the right corner of the room.