A Heart Divided (27 page)

“If it was just you and Caleb . . .” She sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter. What matters is I don’t see eye to eye with Papa anymore. And I won’t have Danny near him.”

“That’s pretty harsh, Sarah. Speaking of Pa that way.”

“I know.” She sighed and laid her head against her brother’s back. “I know, but look what he’s done, Noah. And now . . . now Caleb may be dying because of Papa’s all-consuming need for revenge. He frightens me. Scares me down to the depths of my soul.”

“Then why are you coming back with me?”

“It’s for Caleb.” Sarah shivered. “That day I visited you and Papa in jail . . . well, it was like I didn’t know Papa anymore. I felt like I was looking into the eyes of a stranger, and that stranger wasn’t any friend of mine.”

“So, now you hate him, do you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I know he’s still my papa, and I’ll always love him. I pray for him all the time too, and keep hoping that somehow, some day, he’ll finally open his eyes to the terrible things he has wrought. Yet even now that Edmund Wainwright’s dead, has he changed or lessened his need to continue on until he’s destroyed everything? Has he, Noah?”

“He’s our father, Sarah. It’s not our place to judge him.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not following in his footsteps anymore either. The Lord gave me the ability to see right and wrong, and to choose which path to take. And I don’t think He wants me to follow Papa’s lead.”

“So where does that leave me and Caleb?” her brother snarled. Beneath her hands, she could feel his body go taut. “Are we just as blind and foolish as you now seem to think Pa is? Or maybe the Wainwrights have filled your head with all sorts of highfalutin ideas, and now you’re too good for us?”

Frustration filled her. “It’s not that at all. What’s changed is that I started thinking again about what Mama taught us of God, and the right and wrong of things. And God doesn’t take kindly to holding grudges or not letting go of anger. You know that as well as I, Noah. Mama didn’t just read the Bible to me. She read it to
all
of her children.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got the luxury of turning the other cheek and forgiving the Wainwrights,” Noah muttered, bitterness now threading his voice. “But someone’s got to stay with Pa. He’s getting real sick, and I don’t think he’s got a lot of time left. It’s his heart, you know.”

“He looked really bad, that day at the jail.” Tears stung Sarah’s eyes. “And I’m glad you’re with him. Just don’t let him do anything else, Noah. Let it finally stop, so whatever time he has left can be lived in peace. I just want him to die in peace, not still mired in all that anger and hatred.”

“I’ll try, Sarah. But I’m not making any promises.”

With that, he kicked his horse into a lope. Sarah hung on, knowing the time for talk was over. From the change in the angle of the horse’s body, she could tell they had reached level ground. For about the next fifteen minutes, they traveled at a rapid pace before Noah slowed the animal again and they once more began to climb.

As time passed, the periodic change in elevation happened over and over until Sarah gave up trying to figure out where they were. The snow finally began to fall, and the wind picked up. She was grateful she’d dressed warmly. Her fingers grew numb and her feet started to tingle. More and more often, she had to flex her limbs to keep the blood flowing.

“How much longer?” she finally asked. “If we’re not going to make it before dark, maybe we need to find a place to stay for the night and get a fire going.”

“We’re almost there,” her brother replied. “I can see the firelight from the cabin now. Hang on, little sister. Just a few more minutes.”

Blessedly, it was indeed just another ten minutes, and Noah halted his horse. He helped her slide down, then dismounted himself.

“Here,” he then said, his hands going to the knot of the cloth still covering her eyes. “You can take that off now.”

Sarah blinked in the dimming light, allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust. Then she turned toward the rickety old miner’s cabin and hurried up the steps.

At the sound of the door opening, her father glanced up from his chair set beside the only bed in the room. Momentarily, his gaze warmed, then he quickly shuttered his joy beneath a mask of indifference.

“So, you came, girl. You surprised me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I came because Caleb asked for me.” She shed her gloves and unbuttoned her coat as she hurried over to the bed. As she did, her father rose and pulled back his chair.

Caleb lay there, so white and still Sarah feared she had arrived too late. She knelt beside him, took a pale hand in hers.

“Caleb? It’s Sarah,” she whispered, her throat going tight. “Noah said you wanted to see me.”

Sandy lashes fluttered against his cheeks. Ever so slowly her brother opened his eyes. They had a faraway look, and it appeared to require a great effort for him to focus. When he did, however, a tired smile lifted one corner of his mouth.

“S-Sarah? You came . . .”

He tried to lever himself to one elbow, and failed. It was all he could do just to weakly squeeze her hand.

“I’m . . . I’m done for, Sarah,” he said, his voice barely audible. “But you came . . . in time.”

“Hush. Save your strength.” She laid a finger to his lips. “Time enough later to talk.”

“No time left.” Caleb shook his head. “Forgive.”

She frowned. “Forgive? Forgive what, Caleb?”

“That day . . . I called you . . . a tramp.” He sighed, closed his eyes for a long moment, then finally opened them. “I didn’t . . . mean it. I was just . . . just mad. And confused.”

“Oh, Caleb!” She took his hand and lifted it to her lips. “I knew that. We’ve all been mad and confused for a long while now. But I never, ever doubted that you still loved me. As I’ve always loved you.”

“G-good. Didn’t want that . . . on my conscience . . . when I face my Maker.”

“Have no fear, big brother. When that time comes, the Lord is going to welcome you with open arms.”

He frowned. “I . . . don’t know about that. I’ve done some bad things . . .”

“Then tell Jesus how sorry you are for them,” she urged, her eyes filling with tears. “That’s all He asks.”

His lips curved in a soft, beatific smile. “It’s that . . . easy . . . is it?”

“He has already paid the full price for our sins, Caleb. You just need to repent of them. Repent of them with all your heart.”

Caleb closed his eyes, and Sarah could see his lips silently moving. She lowered her head, offering up her own prayers, entreating the Lord to spare her brother’s life if it was His will, and if not, to carry him gently and painlessly up to heaven. Prayed with all her heart and felt, after a time, a great peace fill her.

A great peace and overflowing joy the like of which she’d never felt before flowed over her. Yet, as much as it filled and uplifted her, Sarah knew that it was a vicarious experience. That it was really her brother’s emotions touching her. Emotions he was feeling as his soul was lifted from his now lifeless body to rise heavenward.

“Caleb!” her father wailed at that very instant. “Caleb!”

Sarah opened her eyes and looked up. All the pain and suffering that had twisted her brother’s features had vanished. In its place was a look of ineffable peace.

Sadness swamped her. She would miss her childhood friend and sibling. Miss him deeply and for a long, long time to come.

But she was also relieved, and even a tiny bit envious. Caleb at least was finally free of all the pain and worry. All the unpleasant tension of living with and trying to please a parent who refused ever to be happy or satisfied. There was no more unrequited hunger for vengeance and destruction in Caleb’s life anymore. His way was clear now, his goal obvious.

Not so for her, though. And maybe never.

Sarah covered her face and wept.

Two days later, once darkness had settled over the land, Noah halted his horse behind the Wainwright ranch barn. From her vantage behind her brother, Sarah could see the main house, its windows glowing warmly in the blackness. Gazing at the big, wood frame dwelling, she felt a bittersweet emotion fill her.

It was now the only real home she had. Still, though it held the people she’d committed her life and love to, Sarah wasn’t sure she belonged there anymore. But then, she wasn’t sure
where
she belonged anymore.

“Time to get down and head on over to the house,” her brother said. “Even as dark and cold as it is tonight, I can’t risk someone venturing from the bunkhouse or barn and catching me here. If the Wainwrights had anything to say about it, I’m likely wanted dead or alive by now.”

Sarah sighed and laid her head against him, clinging tightly to his waist.
Just one more minute. Just one more minute with you, because it might have to last me a lifetime.

“Where will you go for the night?” she asked finally. “It’s too late to make it back to the hideout, and I don’t want you riding up into those mountains in the dark.”

Noah chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve still got a few friends who’ll put me up. And some live closer than you might think.”

“Good.”

She loosened her grip about his waist and slid from the horse. She didn’t, however, step away.

“Take care of yourself, and Pa, will you? And no more rustling, okay?”

“We’ve still got enough money left for a while. But after that, a man’s got to live. Once Pa goes, though . . . well, I’m thinking I’ll head west and see if I can start over.”

“If you do, will you let me know somehow?”

There was no point in asking Noah to come for her when their father was dying. He couldn’t be in two places at once, and it was best he be there for their father in his final hours. Whenever that time came . . .

“I’ll try to get word to you somehow.” A sad smile on his lips, Noah leaned down to tug at a lock of her hair. It had always been his way of showing affection. At the memory, Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. “No promises, though. It just might not be safe to do so.”

“Oh, N-Noah,” she whispered. “I just . . . I just don’t want to part like this. Like we might never see each other again!”

“Neither do I, but it’s the way things have turned out. And you’re a woman now, soon to be a wife. Things would’ve changed between us when that happened anyway. Your own family would have to take precedence—your husband and, eventually, your children. You know that as well as I.”

“Yes, I know, but I also thought we’d live near each other and would be able to visit, share holiday celebrations, special times . . .”

“At least you’ve got Danny. He’ll be with you for a long while to come.”

And you’ll soon have no one
, Sarah thought, then quickly shoved that painful realization from her mind. She and Noah had both made their choices and must now abide by them.

“I’ll take good care of Danny. I promise.”

Her brother straightened in his saddle and gathered his reins. “I know you will. Just like you’ve tried to take care of all of us.”

She gave an unsteady laugh. “And a whole lot of good I was at it too.”

“You can’t live our lives for us, Sarah. You can only live your own. And that, I think, is more than enough for anyone.”

With that, Noah turned his horse, whispered an “I love you, little sister,” then headed off into the night.

Sarah watched him until he disappeared from view, a dark, solitary figure against the frozen backdrop of snow. Tears streamed down her cheeks. In but the span of a few days, she had lost two brothers, if in entirely different ways. And her father, well, as hard an admission as it was, she had lost him a long, long time ago.

“You can’t live our lives for us, Sarah
 . . .
”

When had she taken on that task, and why? Had she imagined it was what her dying mother had been asking when she’d requested that Sarah take care of her father and brothers? Or had it, instead, been nothing more than an excuse not to follow her own dreams and risk them failing? Whatever the motives, they’d all made choices—many of them poor ones, and many for the wrong reasons.

Turning, Sarah strode out around the barn and toward the house. It was past time to begin anew, to choose differently and more wisely. For her sake. For the sake of her brother.

She just wasn’t sure anymore what those choices should be.

16

Cord both yearned for and dreaded Sarah’s return. Yearned for it because he loved her and, as time passed, realized evermore how much he needed her. But also dreaded that she might return only to retrieve Danny, then make her way back to her father and brothers.
If
her one brother still even lived.

And if he didn’t . . .

What would Sarah’s response to that death be? What would her response to
him
be?

Maybe, though, she should be just as concerned about how
he
felt over her little outing into the mountains. There was no telling what her crazy father would do to her, especially if his son died. Cord’s greatest fear was Jacob Caldwell taking out his pain-clouded revenge on his daughter, a daughter he was now convinced had betrayed him.

Fear, however, was but one of the chaotic emotions that assaulted him whenever he thought of Sarah’s departure. He was equally as angry at her. How could she do something so rash, so ill-advised, at a time like this? If word got out, she could be put up on charges of aiding and abetting outlaws. Why was she so determined to risk everything, when nothing she could do would alter the tragic, downward spiral the Caldwell men had put themselves in?

He sighed, laid aside the book he was reading by the light of the room’s single oil lamp, and glanced at the clock sitting on the mantel of the library fireplace. Ten past ten.

Another day over and done, and Sarah still wasn’t back. But it
had
only been two days since she’d ridden off with her brother Noah. And if her brother Caleb was lingering on, or was even recovering from his gunshot wound, there was no telling how much longer she might be.

Time I head to bed
, Cord thought, pushing to his feet.
Plenty of ranch work awaits tomorrow, and I’ll need a good—

Footsteps sounded on the porch. Then, as if ridding shoes of excess snow, someone stomped right outside the front door before turning the handle and entering.

Cord tensed.
Who’d be visiting at this hour?

Taking up the oil lamp, he headed for the entry and almost slammed into Sarah. For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Then Cord cleared his throat.

“You’re home,” he observed lamely, his mouth gone dry, his heart pounding at the sight of her.

“Yes.” She took a step back, pulled off her mittens, and stuffed them into her coat pocket. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get word to you. I’d imagine you were worried . . .”

“Only that something would happen to you, or you’d decide you’d had enough of me and come back only to fetch Danny and then be on your way.”

Irritated at himself, Cord clamped down on further utterances. He could’ve bitten off his tongue for all the babbling he was doing. At a time like this, what mattered most was Sarah and what she’d been through, not his own fears.

“Here”—he reached for her coat as she removed it—“let me take that. You must be chilled to the bone. Go in and sit by the fire. I’ll fetch you a mug of hot coffee.”

She smiled wanly. “That would be wonderful. Two spoonfuls of sugar and a—”

“A splash of cream. I know.”

Cord hung her coat on one of the pegs beside the front door, and headed for the kitchen. He quickly poured a steaming mug of coffee and added the sugar before finally noting that his hands were shaking. Laying aside the spoon, he paused to inhale a steadying breath, then took the cream from the icebox and splashed a bit into the coffee.

Easy there,
son
, he cautioned himself.
This is no time to get yourself all riled. And this certainly isn’t the time to berate her for her crazy, impulsive actions or smother her with questions. Just stand back and let Sarah tell you what she wants, when she’s ready. By the look of her, things didn’t go well.

He found her sitting on a stool she’d pulled close to the hearth, hunched toward the fire with hands extended. Her long, pale hair tumbled down about her shoulders like some gossamer veil. Cord swallowed hard against an intense swell of longing. It seemed like forever since he’d held her in his arms, kissed her, fingered that gloriously silken hair.

Sarah glanced up just then. Their gazes locked, and Cord was swamped by an impression of intense sorrow. Then Sarah shuttered her emotions behind a stoic façade. She rose, walked over to him, and extended a hand.

Though he wished it were him she was reaching out to, he knew it was really just for the coffee. He handed her the mug.

“Be careful. It’s hot, and I filled it too full.”

Gingerly, she accepted his offering. “Thank you.” Sarah took a careful sip.

A faint smile teased the corner of her mouth when she finally glanced back up. “It tastes so good. I really missed Emma’s coffee. No one makes it like she does.”

“No, no one does.” He gestured to the hearth, bright with leaping flames and fragrant with the bracing scent of burning pine. “Want to sit and talk for a while? Or would you prefer some time to yourself, with the coffee and a warm fire?”

She hesitated, then gestured to the fireplace. “If you’re not too tired, I wouldn’t mind some company. Especially yours.”

Her response heartened him. “I’m not at all tired, now that you’re back home.” It was his turn to hesitate. “I’ve missed you, Sarah. Missed you more than you might imagine.”

Briefly, humor flared in her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve got a
very
good imagination.”

Cord chuckled. “Then imagine away, just as long as I’m the center of it all.”

Sarah took another sip of her coffee, then used it to gesture to the fire. “Let’s go sit. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

He followed her. When they were both seated, he leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “How did things go with your brother? The one that was shot.”

“He died.” She looked down. “In the end, it was a peaceful death, and I think he reconciled with the Lord.”

“I’m sorry, Sarah. For your loss. I know you loved him very much.”

“Yes, I loved Caleb.” She lifted a tear-sheened gaze. “He was so young, had so much life ahead of him. It shouldn’t have happened the way it did.”

What could he say to that, save to agree? “No, it shouldn’t have happened the way it did.”

“I’m so tired, Cord. So tired of all of this. The hatred. The fighting. The deaths.”

“So am I. So am I.”

A tear trickled down her cheek. Angrily, she brushed it away.

“Why won’t it stop? We try so hard, you and I, and it just won’t stop!”

“It’s almost over. We’ve just got to hang on for a little while longer. And not do anything ourselves to drag it out or make it any worse.” He locked gazes with her. “You and I, we’ve got to stay strong and not give up on each other.”

When she didn’t reply, an uneasy premonition washed over him. “Can you do that?” Cord reached out, took her hand. “And, more importantly, do you still even want to?”

In his own inimitable way, Cord had cut to the very heart of the matter. Even if she should—for Danny’s sake at the very least—did she still want to keep on fighting and stand with Cord? Did she still wish to marry him?

Sarah had thought she had. But seeing him, being with him again, had thrown all her emotions into renewed turmoil. Her earlier doubts resurfaced. What did she really know of him? Their courtship had been brief and filled with a wild mix of happiness and pain.

How committed to her was he really? How deep did his anger and need for revenge go? Cord’s unresolved feelings for his father had reemerged in a flash of fury when she’d asked him for help defending Noah and her father. He was still so torn between anger and grief over his own father’s death . . .

Yet wasn’t she equally torn over
her
father? And how could she be fair or judge Cord when she couldn’t even make up her mind—at least not for long anyway—over what to do about family loyalties? She owed the man she’d agreed to marry better than that. Oh, if only they could both turn their backs on their fathers and all the unhappiness they’d wrought, and start their lives anew!

She wanted to do that—be strong, stand by Cord, marry him—but was it the right thing to do? Even more importantly, was it the right time? Maybe it was better to slow things down a bit, to work through all the crazy emotions and see where it took them, rather than going ahead with their wedding plans. Plans that, if not put to a halt soon, would culminate in a marriage on December 31, just another four weeks from today.

“Best you
do
marry him, girl,” her father had urged just this afternoon as she was preparing to depart with Noah for the ranch. “From here on out, we’ll need someone on the inside. Someone to warn us of Wainwright’s plans and feed us information. Once you’re his wife, after all, he’ll think it’s safe to tell you everything.”

Jacob Caldwell chuckled grimly. “I had my doubts at first, but it’s the perfect solution. We can continue to work in our own ways to destroy him, while you undermine him at home. And then, when it’s all over and done with, you can deliver the final and worst blow when you leave him.”

Sarah knew her father was raving mad even to consider such a plan, but it still angered her. “So, once again, you’re willing to prostitute me to Cord Wainwright, just to avenge yourself against him and his family. There’s not anything or anyone you’ll spare in order to win, is there?”

He gave her a blank look. “But you said you wanted to marry him.”

“Yes, I did. But not to betray him.”

“So Caleb’s death doesn’t change anything for you? He just died in vain?”

“He died in vain because of
you
, Papa! Because you drove both him and Noah to commit crimes, and those crimes finally caught up with them.” Sarah threw up her hands in exasperation. “Oh, what’s the point of trying to reason with you anymore?”

Fury reddened her father’s face. He reached out, grabbing her by the arm.

“Don’t you
ever
talk to me that way again, do you hear me, girl? You just do as you’re told.” He released her with a jerk, causing Sarah almost to lose her balance and fall. “Now, get on with you. Noah needs to sneak you back under cover of darkness, and you’ve a long ride ahead. No more sassing me, do you hear?”

More than anything she’d ever wanted, Sarah wanted to tell her father that she was done obeying him. That she wasn’t about to do what he asked, not now or ever again.

But Sarah also feared if she pushed her father any further, he might change his mind and not allow her to leave. And, no matter what, she didn’t intend to remain with him a moment longer. So Sarah just nodded and mumbled a “Yes, Papa,” and she and Noah were soon mounted up and heading back down the mountain.

Not that Cord needs to know about any of what transpired between me and Papa,
she thought, recalling her attention back to the present.
Right about now, there are probably as many doubts about me in his mind as there are about him in mine.

Help me, Lord
, she thought, lifting a prayer heavenward.
Help me to know what’s best for the both of us. And help me to say the right things, things that’ll help him understand.