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“PA, MA SAYS YOU’RE to come in and get cleaned up.” Sarah Jane stuck her head into the chicken coop an hour later. She was holding a light brown chicken in her arms, stroking it soothingly.
“We’re almost done,” Mr. Bentley called, smiling up at his daughter as he dumped another scoop of refuse into a bucket.
“Why don’t you go on Bill,” Titus said. “I’ll finish up here. The works making this shoulder loosen up nicely.”
“You sure?” Bill asked standing and stretching his back.
“I’m sure,” Titus smiled, keeping his tone quiet so as not to disturb the few chickens who had returned to their boxes.
“I’ll stay with him, Pa,” Sarah Jane said, “in case he feels faint or anything.”
Bill Bentley cut his eyes back to Titus. “You feeling poorly again?”
“No sir,” Titus said.
“Well Sarah you stay anyway. He might get lost coming back to the house, or maybe even fall of a hill or something,” he chuckled making Titus shake his head. He wouldn’t live that misstep down for a while.
Mr. Bentley made his way out of the small structure offering his daughter a smile. “See you at the house.”
Sarah Jane watched Titus heft the shovel and carefully dump its contents into the bucket.
“The chickens seem calmer now,” she finally said after the next three scoops.
“The one you’re holding seems content,” Titus commented.
“I’ve always been good with animals,” Sarah Jane said. “Ma says it’s because I’m calm.”
“Is it true?”
Sarah Jane shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t get upset easily though. I think things are funny.”
“Like your brothers coming home covered in chicken feathers and...”
“Refuse.” Sarah Jane said her lips tugging into a smile.
“Refuse.”Titus agreed returning her smile.
“Yes, actually I think it’s very funny. Ma should have known to give specific instructions as to how the chicken coop should be cleaned.”
“So this is normal for your brothers.”
Again the young woman shrugged, her slim shoulders lifting in indifference. “They’re boys, and they get bored easily.” She offered as explanation.
“Are they always in trouble?”
“Not always,” Sarah Jane said, “only most of the time.” She added with a soft laugh. “They’re only ten you know, much younger than I am, and honestly I think Ma indulged them a little too long.”
Titus eyebrows rose. He couldn’t see Mrs. Bentley indulging anyone.
“She’s gotten much stricter in the last few years.” Sarah Jane said carrying the now sleeping chicken inside and placing her gently in a box.
“I honestly think that Ma thought she’d never have any more children after me. I’m nearly ten years their senior. When she got the twins, she was so delighted it softened her a bit.”
“Was she strict with you?”
“No more than I would expect. Ma is a sensible woman, at least most of the time, but we all doted on Calvin and Melvin when they first arrived. Besides they were more work than a twenty mule team. We all had to pitch in.”
Titus smiled. He could see how fond Sarah Jane was of her brothers, and he could also see how to rambunctious boys could add an element of chaos and humor to a young woman’s life.
Titus dumped the last load of dung into the bucket then lifted the rope handle carrying it and the shovel out the door.
He paused when Sarah Jane didn’t follow him out and turned back to see her pulling scratch feed from her apron pocket and scattering it on the now clean floor.
“Ready?” she asked, stepping outside into the brisk air. “I imagine you’ll have a nice hot tub waiting when you get home.”
Titus fell into step with Sarah Jane in companionable silence. They had just reached the front door when she stopped and turned to him.
“Are you really a deputy?” she asked.
“For now, yes,” Titus offered honestly.
“You don’t look like one.”
“What do I look like then?”
The young woman placed a finger over her pink lips and then took a turn around him.
“A lot of things,” she said. “Maybe, you’ll need to be a few more things before you know what you are, but I think you may have started out as a farmer.”
Titus raised an eye brow, “Why would you say that?”
“The way you used that shovel today. You knew how to use it efficiently without wasted effort.”
She turned dark questioning eyes toward him wondering what he’d say.
Titus ran a hand across the back of his neck, feeling the hint of sweat from his excursions. “I wish I knew,” he finally said.
Sarah Jane Bentley looked up into Titus blue eyes, meeting his gaze boldly as if she were trying to see into his soul.
“Why?” she asked simply.
Titus ran a finger along the scar on his scalp, feeling the raised line left by a bullet so many months ago. “I have no memory of who I was before an old prospector found me left for dead in the desert.”
Sarah Jane stepped up to him, her hand drawn toward the white scar on his head. “You’re a good man,” she said quietly, “that’s all that matters.”
Titus shivered as the young woman’s hand traced the scar that parted his hair line and he closed his eyes on a sigh.
Opening his eyes on empty space Titus felt as if he’d lost something all over again. Miss Sarah Jane had been so sure, so positive of who he was; he wished he could be.
