"What has happened to you, girl?" Sarah's mother Beth exclaimed in horror almost dropping her wooden spoon to the dirt floor of their meager cabin.
Sarah had just limped into the cabin and sat at the table. She was still stunned over seeing the Indian boy. Had she really seen him or had he been a figment of her imagination. What had been his name? Would she ever see him again? She felt a little light headed thinking about it.
"I tripped over a tree stump and fell, Mama." Sarah said lowly.
"You're clumsy as an ox, girl," Beth sputtered and sighed dropping the spoon into the bowl with a splat.
"Go get cleaned up and I'll look after your ankle after supper. Your father is out plowing the field." Beth went back to work.
Sarah sidled out of the chair and went up to the loft where her wash basin sat of water.
Her clothes were dirt smudged and her stockings had a small tear….Mama sure didn't need to worry about buying her new stockings.
The Hardy's were a very poor family with little money to spare. Papa was a farmer. Their cabin lay on acres of flat treeless ground. Perfect for farming if it wasn't for the rocks in the ground. Papa though was determined to get the earth to wield him crops anyway. So far they had a small harvest. Enough to buy a few needed things at the mercantile.
Sarah tried to wipe her dress off as best she could but it seemed as if she only made the dirt stain all the more worse. Mama would be furious indeed.
She gave up and changed her dress into her old red one that was two sizes too small. She stuffed her dirt covered one under her bed, hoping her Mama wouldn't see it. Maybe she could wash it in the creek while she wasn't looking.
Sarah heard Papa come in and stomp his feet on the rag carpet by the door. "Woowee," she heard him exclaim and she heard Mama chide him for being so loud.
She limped down the loft latter and sat at the table where her Papa was sitting.
"Hello there, Princess," he smiled at her. That was his nickname for her. He always told her that her name meant princess.
Mama set metal bowls of stew on the table and then laid down three wooden spoons.
"Say the blessing, Rand," Mama sat down.
After supper, Sarah sat on the same wooden chair as Mama took a good look at her ankle.
"Lord knows I'm glad we don't have to pay the Doc a visit. That's what we need is more people to owe. Tis bad enough we owe what we do to the mercantile," Mama fretted, feeling Sarah's ankle.
"It weren't nothin' but a sprain," Sarah assured.
"Better be more careful next time." Mama rubbed a stinky smelling ointment on her ankle.
Sarah wrinkled her nose and nodded.
That night she went to bed thinking of a certain raven haired boy.
Review if you want an update!