Sarah's Search for Treasure Page 4

  The next morning, there were five of their best hens missing again and a small pig. Plus, one of their cows had been milked dry!

  That night, the dogs were all quiet. As Sarah went out to start the morning chores, she almost stumbled over a man lying on their porch.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mr. Douglas

  SARAH YELPED IN SURPRISE AND jumped back. The dogs slowly rose to their feet and stretched, as if it was quite normal to have a stranger sleeping on the front porch. The man stirred and opened his eyes. Sarah quickly moved back further and tried to slam the door shut. But the door didn’t shut all the way. It was firmly blocked by a foot.

  Sarah watched in shock as the foot turned upright and the door was slowly pushed open from the outside. “Ma!” she screamed.

  Ma hurried out from the bedroom. “What is it, Sarah? Oh, good morning, sir!”

  Sarah turned back to stare at the older gentleman in their doorway, for he could only be called a gentleman, with his perfectly dressed attire from his gray, derby hat in his hand to his shiny black shoes on his feet—the same shoes that had blocked the door. How did that man move so quickly?

  The man addressed Sarah first. “I’m sorry to give you such a fright, young lady. I felt sure by sleeping on the porch, I would hear when the family arose and could knock so as not to scare you. I see I failed. You must move very quietly. I’m usually not a sound sleeper.” He turned to Ma. “Ma’am, I heard of your misfortunes concerning the stealing and all. Although I admit, I rather doubted the amount of milking cows you have. But it seems the tales were quite accurate. I have a plan that I hope will benefit both of us, if you would care to listen.”

  Ma hesitated for only a bit. “Of course, won’t you come in? Sarah, why don’t you go get some eggs, bacon, and potatoes? Sir, have a seat at the table. But, please, wait to tell us of your plan until Sarah returns.”

  Sarah heard his quiet, “Of course, ma’am. Thank you!” as she hurried down the basement steps. Inside, she felt wary. Ma was too trusting. How did they know he wasn’t one of the thieves? How did he know about the thievery? They hadn’t been to town since then and had no way of telling anyone.

  Sarah hurriedly gathered her items and flew back up the stairs. The man was stoking the fire in the kitchen range, while Ma was mixing biscuits. Ma was telling the man about the neighbors bringing their animals because the men all wanted to go to the gold fields.

  When Ma noticed Sarah, she said, “Why don’t you start peeling the potatoes, Sarah?”

  Sarah glared at the man. He had removed his coat and was reaching for the coffee pot. He was much too comfortable here. “I want to start the milking.”

  At Sarah’s announcement, both Ma and the man turned to look at her. The man gave a slight nod. “I’ll get some water.” He took the pail and left.

  As soon as the door closed, Sarah exclaimed, “Ma, how can you trust him?”

  Ma smiled gently, “Sarah, he’s an accountant from Boston. He’s old enough to be your grandfather. He’s widowed, and I think he’s lonely. He followed his only son to the gold fields weeks ago. I think he’s perfectly trustworthy.”

  “I am,” said the man from the kitchen doorway. “But you have no way of knowing that.” Sarah spun around to face the man carrying the water. He carefully set it on the counter and turned to face Sarah again. “You’re right to be wary of me. Especially with the goings on you’ve had recently.”

  “How do you know about that?” Sarah challenged. “We didn’t tell anyone.”

  The man rinsed out the coffee pot and proceeded to make coffee before he answered. Sarah realized Ma was peeling the potatoes, so she hurried to start the sausage.

  “That Billy McGregor is a bragger. He was bragging all over town that he got the best of you. Claiming you threatened to shoot him.” At this, the man raised an eyebrow at Sarah. Sarah nodded and noticed for the first time the man’s hair was mostly gray. The man chuckled, and wrinkles appeared around his eyes. “Would you really have?”

  Sarah was embarrassed. “Of course not.” She turned back to the stove to hide what she was sure was a red face.

  The man chuckled again. “Served him right, anyway. He says you tried to shoot him, but your ma took the gun away. Then you tried to make him milk twenty some goats and about thirty cows.”

  Sarah couldn’t keep from laughing. The man joined in and continued, “He said your ma is a real pushover and . . . ”

  “Oh, he did, did he?” Ma said indignantly.

  The man winked at Sarah and continued, “But he did say you’re awfully kind and patched him right up. But he took some chickens to make up for the chicken dinner the girl made him lose.”

  Hearing someone snicker, Sarah turned to find Dennis and Dorie in the kitchen doorway. Ma turned to the man. “That’s my second oldest son, Dennis. He’ll be eleven next month. And Dorie is seven. Dorie, why don’t you go help Gracie get dressed? I think she’s awake.”

  The man nodded. “I’m pleased to meet you, children. My name is Douglas McCall.”

  Breakfast that morning turned out to be a merry affair as Mr. Douglas, as he asked to be called, told them about his son who kept him and his wife on their toes, with the constant tricks he pulled on his six sisters. “Being the only boy, I guess he thought it was his job to make his sisters’ lives as miserable as possible.” Mr. Douglas saddened, suddenly. “But when he lost his wife and two children to the influenza three years ago, he was no longer the happy lad he used to be. That is why when he decided to come West to dig for gold, I felt that I should follow him. But I do not feel right going into the places he does, and he made it clear he doesn’t need either me or God. So I put him in God’s hands and came further North. Ma’am, if you could pray for my Adrian, I would surely appreciate it.”

  “Yes, of course I will. Hopefully, someday he will come to appreciate it, too.”

  “That is my prayer,” murmured Mr. Douglas. “Now, how about I tell you my plan? Then we need to start milking those thirty some goats and eighty some cows.” The children giggled at his exaggeration, and Sarah couldn’t hide a grin.

  “Anyway, I wondered if I could help with the chores and anything that needs doing for room and board? Although I will sleep out in the barn, it won’t be long until word gets around that there is a man on the place, and maybe that will stop the thievery.”

  “But you won’t need to sleep in the barn,” Ma said, quickly.

  “I will be fine in the barn. I’ve slept in much worse places since I came West. That way, I can also help the dogs guard the livestock. But I need to warn you, I have lived in the city all my life. I don’t even know how to milk a cow, much less a goat.”

  “I’ll show you,” Dennis volunteered. “It’s easy.”

  That morning, it took longer to finish the chores. In fact, it was noon by the time they finally finished. But Sarah did not remember ever having so much fun doing simple farm chores. Everything was an adventure to this man from the city. He petted all the cows and goats and asked what their names were.

  “Don’t pet the chickens,” Sarah warned Mr. Douglas as a big calico cat wrapped herself around his legs.

  “They scratch,” added Dorie, from experience. She glanced at her hand that was completely healed.

  Mr. Douglas chuckled, as Dorie picked up the cat by wrapping her arms around the cat’s plumb middle. The cat clung to Mr. Douglas’ pant legs, until he reached down and released the claws. “I thought it’s cats that scratch,” he said.

  Mr. Douglas even found the pigs and little piglets fascinating.

  “So that’s where bacon comes from,” he said, as he watched them squealing and shoving to get to their late breakfast.

  “Course not!” protested three-year-old Gracie. “Bacon comes from the basement.”

  “Is that so?” Mr. Douglas chuckled as he swung her up on his shoulder. Sarah smiled as the children and dogs all followed him to the house.

  One morning several days later, Mr. Do
uglas knocked on the door. He greeted them with a black eye and torn clothes. Buster and the other three farm dogs stood between him and two scruffy-looking men.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Strangers

  “MISS SARAH,” MR. DOUGLAS SAID. “We would all like a cup of hot coffee and some of your ma’s leftover biscuits before we start the milking. And if you could bring them outside, we will enjoy them on the porch.” He winked at her.

  Sarah darted a look at the two sullen men before Mr. Douglas closed the door again. She hurried back inside to tell Ma what was going on. “The men are probably hungry, but Mr. Douglas doesn’t want us to have to feed them for nothing in return,” Sarah said.

  Ma quickly got three mugs for coffee as Sarah got the biscuits. She paused long enough to hastily tie a crisp, clean apron over her blue-gray skirt.

  “I had planned on biscuits and gravy for breakfast,” Ma commented. “But we’ll have something else.”

  Sarah quickly split the biscuits and spread them with butter and Ma’s delicious strawberry jam. She was tempted to keep one out for herself. After all, there were at least a dozen or more. I’ll grab one when they’re finished, she promised herself. She picked up the basket and one of the filled coffee mugs, and Ma took the other two.

  The door swung open just as they reached it. After handing the two men their coffee and taking the biscuits, Mr. Douglas pulled the door shut.

  Sarah looked at Ma, who shrugged and said, “He must not trust them very much. We may as well start breakfast. Something tells me we’ll have two extra guests.”

  Sarah hurried to the basement for the eggs, potatoes, and ham she and Ma had decided upon. Her bare feet had barely touched the wooden kitchen floor again when there was a knock on the door. She laid her supplies on the table and hurried to the door. Mr. Douglas handed her the mugs and empty basket.

  “If you’ll hand us the milk pails, we’ll get started.” In a quieter voice, he added, “Don’t let anyone come outside until I tell you it’s okay.”

  Sarah nodded and hurried to get the pails. “They’ll want some breakfast when we’re finished,” Mr. Douglas said as she handed him the pails.

  “And they ate all the biscuits,” Sarah told Ma after relaying Mr. Douglas’ message.

  “They are probably half-starved,” answered Ma. “I’m making pancakes. We’ll fry them when we fry the eggs, but let’s do the potatoes and ham first.”

  They were just finishing when there was another knock at the door. “We milked over half of the cows and wondered if breakfast might be ready,” asked Mr. Douglas. At Sarah’s nod, he added, “We’ll eat on the porch again.”

  As Ma filled three plates, Sarah pushed three kitchen chairs out to the porch.

  When she returned, Sarah heard Gracie call from Ma’s bedroom. “Are you hungry, Gracie?” Sarah asked as she lifted the pale blue dress over Gracie’s head. “We’re having pancakes.”

  “Sarah!” called a voice from the doorway. Sarah hurried to answer. Mr. Douglas handed her two empty plates. “They asked if they could, please, have some more.”

  Sarah quickly filled the plates again. “Do you want some more, too?” she asked.

  Mr. Douglas’ eyes twinkled. “No, thank you, ma’am. I’m not half-starved.”

  Sarah had just finished cutting up a pancake for Gracie when Mr. Douglas called again. “Is there any more left? They promised to finish the chores if they could eat their fill.”

  Sarah went to the pantry and cut three generous slices of cherry pie and added it to the plates, using a clean plate for Mr. Douglas, almost certain he would want some also. She divided the rest of the eggs between them and filled the rest of the plate with another slice of ham and potatoes. After handing the plates outside, she returned with the coffeepot. This time, Mr. Douglas let her come outside and fill the cups herself.

  One of the men was brawny. He barely glanced at her as she filled his cup. “Thank ye, mum,” he murmured.

  The other one was scrawny. He kept his shaggy brown head bent over his plate, eating as if his life depended on it.

  Sarah started another pot of coffee. Then she started frying eggs again. She glanced at the small amount of leftovers and decided the family would eat pancakes and eggs. The two men had eaten everything else as fast as they prepared it. She sent Dennis to the basement for some more eggs. At least they had plenty of those. Dorie sang cheerfully as she set the table, while Sarah mixed some more pancakes. Ma was still feeding Brian. He was rather fussy this morning. Sarah wondered if she should heat some water for tea. Ma might like some for herself, if not for the baby.

  “I’m going outside,” Dennis threatened for the fourth time, as he set the eggs on the table.

  “You can,” answered Mr. Douglas, from the doorway. He glanced at Ma still trying to soothe the baby. “I think they’re perfectly harmless.”

  “What about what happened to you?” asked Ma, looking pointedly at his torn clothes.

  He chuckled. “We just had to establish some ground rules. The dogs did most of the talking. But with full bellies, I think they’re harmless. Eat first,” he told Dennis.

  Dennis grabbed a plate and scooped in whatever leftovers he could find. Sarah exchanged a smile with Ma as he gobbled up his breakfast and dashed out the door.

  “I’ve never seen him so anxious to do chores before,” Sarah said.

  Ma chuckled. “I haven’t either. But something tells me you’d like to be out there, too.” She stood with the sleeping baby.

  Sarah smiled, sheepishly. “I would. But I’m also glad for a break from the farm chores.” She looked up in surprise. “What am I going to do if I don’t have to do any chores? Maybe I should go to town.”

  Ma shook her head. “Mr. Douglas offered to go to town if we need him to. I’d rather you wouldn’t go anymore. I don’t think it’s safe. Why don’t we do some baking? We need bread and I have a feeling we’ll need other things, too.”

  After breakfast, while Sarah was slicing apples into pie crusts, she heard someone at the door. The larger of the two strangers was standing in the open doorway holding two egg baskets. He cleared his throat again. “Mr. Douglas said I should bring these here eggs up to the house.”

  “You may just set them down.” Sarah wished Ma hadn’t chosen right now to go to the basement for some more apples. The man carefully set the eggs down, but didn’t leave.

  Finally he said, “If’n we was to stay an’ work some more, do you s’pose we could have some of that there pie an’ bread afore we leave?”

  Sarah thought rapidly. They were planning to try to plow the garden today, but Mr. Douglas admitted he had no idea how. “If you help Mr. Douglas plow the garden this morning, I’ll pack enough food for both of you for dinner and supper.”

  “Deal!” shouted the man, jubilantly. He turned and raced out the door, never noticing that he woke Baby Brian, who started to cry. Little Gracie hid her face in Sarah’s skirt.

  Ma hurried into the kitchen, as Sarah tried to calm the baby. “What happened?” Ma picked up Gracie and rocked her while Sarah explained.

  Ma chuckled. “I’m glad to get the garden plowed. But how can we pack pie for them?”

  “We can make the pie pockets you make sometimes,” Sarah suggested.

  “Half-moon pies,” Ma said, as Mr. Douglas stepped into the kitchen.

  “Half-moon pies. Sarah, you are quite the sales lady.” Mr. Douglas’ eyes twinkled. “The Bailey brothers are hitching the horses to the plow, so one of you ladies had better come direct us.”

  Sarah was just finishing the cookies that afternoon when there was another knock on the door. She opened it to find four men of various ages standing outside and grinning at her. One spoke up, “We’ll do the evenin’ an’ mornin’ chores an’ plant the garden an’ whatever it takes, if’n you feed us good like ya did the Bailey brothers.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Bargaining

  “IF’N CHORIN’ AND PLANTIN’ the garden ain’t enough,
we’ll chop wood, too,” piped up the youngest one. The man beside him elbowed him.

  “We have quite a few chores,” began Sarah, keeping a firm grip on the partially open door.

  “We know.” This came from the sandy-haired man that had nudged the younger boy. He turned to glare at him again, then continued, “Thirty-some cows and twenty-some goats.”

  Sarah couldn’t keep from smiling. He sounded tired already. “Actually, we have only twenty-four cows and eleven goats,” Sarah said, “including some the neighbors recently brought. But we also have pigs, chickens, sheep, and some ducks. Oh, yes, we also have rabbits and, of course, horses and such.”

  “Wow!” This came from the older man with slightly graying hair. “It’s been a long time since I’ve helped with sheep. Pa used to have sheep,” he told the other men.

  The other three were sniffing the air and trying to see over Sarah’s shoulders. “If you want to have a seat on the porch, I’ll bring out some coffee and cookies that you can eat while I get the seed.”

  Sarah quickly closed the door and hurried to fill four mugs. Ma came out from the bedroom, and Sarah filled her in. As Ma went to get the seed, Sarah heaped a plate with oatmeal raisin cookies.

  Out in the garden, it didn’t take Sarah long to realize the men would need constant supervision.

  “You’re making the rows too deep for radishes, Pete! You give me that hoe.”

  “Oh, hush up, Jake! You just don’t want to plant! I know you!”

  The youngest one they called Li’l Joe had dumped all the radish seeds in a pile on the ground and was running his hands through them. By this time, Pete and Jake were tousling over the hoe. The other man was rummaging through the seed, opening bags and tossing them aside without closing them again.

  “What’s going on here, Sarah?”

  Sarah was so relieved to hear Mr. Douglas, she felt like hugging him. She quickly told him.

  “Gentlemen!” Mr. Douglas shouted in a voice Sarah didn’t think was usually used to address actual gentlemen. The men all stopped and looked at him. “Here’s the plan. Miss Sarah here is going to tell me exactly how deep she wants everything planted, what she wants planted, and where she wants it planted. And if you men want some of her and her ma’s delicious supper, you’ll do exactly as I tell you, so she can go inside and work on supper.”