TUESDAY TALES - HOT

  Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week our word prompt is "cold". We have another episode from "Sam's Decision". Sarah confronts Becky and finds out the truth her brother had been hiding. Don't forget to read the other great stories by Tuesday Tales authors. Find them HERE. 

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“Nice to see you, Sarah,” Becky said, picking up the list. “Is this for Mrs. Fitch?”

“Yes.”

“I meant the other Mrs. Fitch,” Becky grinned.

“I can’t get used to being Mrs. Fitch,” Sarah confided. “Oh, and I need some thread.”

“Go pick your colors. I know, Sarah. What’s it like to be a married woman?” Becky slowed her work filling the Fitch order so she could chat with Sarah.

“It’s heaven. Seems to me you might be tryin’ that out yourself before long,” Sarah said.

“Me? Whatever makes you say that?”

“Didn’t my brother make his intentions clear to you recently?”

Becky’s face turned as red as her hair. “Word sure travels fast in this town.”

“I heard you turned him down,” Sarah said, moseying over to the thread and looking over the colors.

“That’s my business,” Becky said, speeding up her work.

Sarah put her hand on Becky’s forearm. “You can’t get rid of me that easy. I want to call you sister. Why did you turn Sam down?”

“Sam doesn’t want a wife. He wants a farm hand,” Becky sniffed.

“What do you mean? He’s a smith, not a farmer,” Sarah said.

“Not for much longer. He’s fixin’ to get a ranch from old Mr. Fitch.”

Sarah gasped. So that’s what Sam was doing at the Fitch office!

Becky turned a sharp eye on her friend. “Didn’t you know? You’re his sister.”

Now it was Sarah’s turn to blush. “Of course, of course, I did,” she lied.

“You’re mighty surprised for someone who knew,” Becky said, before going in the back room to fetch two jars of molasses.

Sarah covered her mouth. She bet her mother and Caleb didn’t know of Sam’s plans. She plucked a licorice candy stick from the assortment on display and tucked it into her pocket. When Becky returned, Sarah said, “And add two cinnamon sticks and one licorice to my order, please, Becky.”

“Sure thing.”

Sarah lowered her voice, “You sure you don’t want to marry Sam?”

Becky drew her eyebrows together. “I don’t want to be no farm hand. I want to be a wife.”

“You’d be with Sam. You know he loves you.”

Becky raised her gaze to Sarah’s. The redhead’s face clouded over, hot anger spit from her eyes. “He didn’t say nothin’ about love.”

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