A Heart Divided (30 page)

“Not to mention you’d like to keep Sarah around.”

“Well, I’ll admit that thought also crossed my mind.” Nick straightened in his wheelchair. “What can I say? I like having my family nearby, and you and Sarah—and Danny now too—are the only family I’ve got.”

“Family . . .” Cord chewed on that for a moment, then glanced up. “Never thought I’d say this, but I kind of like the idea of family myself. It was never the ranch, you know, that I hated. It was just Pa, plain and simple.”

“And maybe it wasn’t really Pa you hated, but more the pain and rejection he liked to throw your way,” his brother offered gently.

“Yeah. Maybe that was more what it was.”

Nick cocked his head and studied Cord. “You’re beginning to get over it, aren’t you? The pain and anger you felt toward Pa.”

Cord shrugged. “Maybe. Is it that apparent?”

“In a lot of little ways. The tone of your voice right now. And the fact that you didn’t heap all the blame on Pa.” He smiled. “Just your whole manner has changed, and I noticed it beginning the day Pa died.”

“Actually, it began that night we rode out after the cattle, that first time the Caldwells rustled them. Pa and I finally started talking a bit, and it was like something hard and impenetrable came crashing down between us.”

“So, you’re beginning to forgive and let it go.”

Am I?
The question that sounded in his mind gave Cord pause. He’d never thought he’d ever forgive his father for all those years of misery and recrimination. But the effort required to maintain those unpleasant emotions now seemed more trouble than it was worth. He had more important, more happy things to address. Like Sarah, their marriage, and the anticipation of a new life here at the ranch.

Cord scratched his jaw. “Yeah, I reckon so. It doesn’t mean I’m ready to march off to church every Sunday, though. God and I still have some things to work through.”

“Take all the time you need. God’s not like Pa. He’s not aloof and judgmental. Far, far from it. And He’s quite patient, especially when it comes to a prodigal child.”

“A prodigal child, am I?” Cord’s mouth quirked. “Well, maybe I am. Maybe I am.”

“In the meantime, while you’re busy working out things with the Lord,” Nick said, “use the opportunity to build the kind of family and life you’ve always wanted. Always deserved.”

At the kind, encouraging words, gratitude filled Cord. He was so blessed to have Nick for his brother. Nick had always been there for him. Nick had tried, as best he could, to play the peacemaker between him and their father. And, without thought to the gaping hole it would create in his own life, Nick had always supported Cord’s dream to seek a better existence far from the ranch and their sire’s disapproving presence.

It was time—no, past time—to pay his brother back, to support
him
. And, because the ranch was all Nick knew and had ever wanted, Cord would give up his old life back East and remain here. Remain in Colorado, in the land the Indians had long ago named the Shining Mountains, and rebuild his life.

Rebuild it with his family around him. And maybe, just maybe, even rebuild it with the Lord God Himself. Stranger things had happened, he thought, surprisingly at peace with the idea. The turn his life had taken of late was proof enough.

Somehow, though, there was hope where none had existed before. And he had all the time in the world to wait now, to let life be, to allow things to unfold. For he wasn’t alone anymore. He had family. He had the Lord. He was loved.

And that certainty, more than anything he’d ever known, filled Cord with a sweet, soul-searing joy.

“Emma, what would you recommend for an upset stomach?” Sarah asked one morning over a month and a half later. “I don’t know what I ate, but the last few mornings I’ve felt so queasy and out of sorts.”

The housekeeper smiled, finished kneading the mound of dough that would soon be baking into a crusty loaf of bread, and covered it with a cloth before turning to Sarah. “Queasy, out of sorts, and sleeping far later these days than usual,” she said by way of agreement as she wiped her floured hands on her apron. “Doesn’t surprise me a bit. Just didn’t expect it quite so soon, is all.”

Sarah frowned and stepped farther into the kitchen. “What doesn’t surprise you? You’re not making any sense.”

“Aren’t I?” Emma ambled to the sink with the bowl she’d used to mix the bread dough, and began filling it with water. “Well, before I say more, why don’t you shut that door so the news isn’t common knowledge long before you’re ready to share it?”

Not at all certain what the other woman was getting at, Sarah walked back and closed the kitchen door. “Fine. It’s now our little secret,” she said as she returned to stand at the sink beside the housekeeper. “Whatever the secret really is.”

As she continued to scrub out the bowl, Emma sent her a slanting glance. “You’re with child, of course. It’s quite evident.”

A quick glance down at her belly did little to confirm Emma’s pronouncement. Her midsection was washboard flat. Sarah looked up.

“No, that’s not possible. How could I be . . . ?”

She blushed. Of course it was possible. She was now a married woman.

Though there were still times when things were strained between her and Cord—primarily when a few more cattle were noted to be missing and the subject of her father and Noah inevitably came up—there seemed to be nothing strained about their relationship in the marital bed. There, above all else, they were happy and fulfilled, not to mention completely relaxed with each other.

“But it hasn’t been that long since my . . .”

Sarah’s voice faded.
Actually, it has been almost six weeks since I last had my woman’s courses,
she thought as she did a swift calculation.
But I’ve been late before, if only by a few days at the very most. Surely, though, there hasn’t been enough time to know for certain.

“I’m sure in just another day or so . . .”

Once more the words died as she saw the knowing look in the other woman’s eyes. Sarah swallowed hard. There were other signs, signs that her body was changing. Signs she’d tried to ignore, thinking they were of little import and would soon disappear.

Her hand slipped to her belly. “Do you think . . . do you think it
could
be possible?”

Emma nodded. “Oh yes indeed, honey. In fact, I’d wager it’s nigh on to a certainty.”

Tears filled Sarah’s eyes. “A baby. I’m going to have a baby!”

“Yes, you are,” the housekeeper softly agreed. She wiped her hands on a towel, hurried over, and engulfed Sarah in a hug. “Oh yes, you are!”

After a moment, Emma leaned back. “So, when are you going to tell Cord the good news?”

Her question took Sarah by surprise. Cord. The discussion of children hadn’t actually come up yet. Neither of them, she supposed, had imagined she would become pregnant so quickly. And there was still so much to resolve between them. She’d thought they had plenty of time to get to know each other, to settle into their marriage a bit more . . .

Not for the first time, Sarah wondered if they hadn’t rushed into getting married. Yet, whenever she caught a passing glimpse of him throughout the day, her mouth always went dry and her pulse quickened. And when they retired each night into the cozy privacy of their bedroom and she snuggled against the comforting warmth of his big, strong body, her misgivings were soon replaced with far more pleasurable concerns.

No, there wasn’t any doubt Cord loved her and she loved him. That much, at the very least, she knew deep down to the depths of her soul.

And he was good with children. Sarah had repeatedly seen that in his interactions with Danny. Her husband possessed surprising patience coupled with a gentle attentiveness that warmed her heart. And he wasn’t above a good snowball fight or allowing her little brother to tag along with him when he went riding out to check the cattle or do most chores. No, it wasn’t Cord’s ability to be a good father that gave Sarah pause.

“I’m not sure,” she said, finally meeting the older woman’s gaze. “I think I’ll give it a few more weeks, just to be certain. Cord’s got a lot on his mind these days. There’s no sense adding to it prematurely.”

For a long moment, Emma didn’t say a word. Then she nodded.

“Well, I’m not thinking the news that he’s going to be a father would add to his burdens or upset him. More the opposite, instead. Still, it’s your prerogative to share the news when you see fit. In the meanwhile, your secret’s safe with me.”

Sarah managed a grateful smile. “Thank you, Emma.” She sighed. “Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I just need time to mull it all over. To carry it close and get a little more used to the fact that I’m going to be a mother.”

“To keep all these things, and ponder them in your heart . . .”

The quote from the Gospel of Luke, making mention of how Mary, the mother of God, had savored the wonders of her Son’s birth, seemed apropos just then. Sarah felt a deepened kinship with Mary, a bond that many women must feel when they first discover they are to bear a child.

Keep all these things, and ponder them in your heart
 . . .

“Yes,” she replied as, yet again, she laid a hand gently, tenderly over her belly. “This is a special time, isn’t it? A special, sacred time.”

Once more, Emma nodded. “It is indeed, child. It is indeed.”

18

Cord slammed the letter down on his desk.
Why, when it seems things can’t get any worse
, he asked himself,
does yet another calamity raise its ugly head?

He stared at the sheet of fine stationery with its embossed header of Stengel, Matthews, and Joslin, Attorneys-at-Law. It was dated the seventeenth of January, exactly one month ago. Considering the winter weather and slowed delivery up in the mountains, the letter had made it in reasonably good time.

The Denver legal firm claimed to represent the rancher from whom his father had purchased the second bull, after the first one’s untimely death. Not only the ill-fated bull that had soon upped and died but his replacement as well. Two bulls now that his father had failed to pay for. Two bulls about which his father had also failed to consult with his sons before buying.

Fleetingly, renewed anger at Edmund Wainwright surged through Cord. With an effort, he quashed it. Nothing was served blaming a dead man.

His father had always tried to do what he deemed best for the ranch. And improving the bloodlines of their herd was long overdue. If only his sire had been a better manager of his money . . .

As he refolded the letter and shoved it back into its envelope, Cord considered his options. So far, he’d managed to successfully hold off the bank on the first bull. He might also be able to buy a bit more time with the second animal, in attempting to draw things out by a back and forth correspondence. But that could just as easily irritate both the lawyers and their client to the point they might go through with their threatened lien on the ranch.

The odds of winning an agreement to spread out payments would be better served in a face-to-face meeting. A meeting that, of necessity, would entail his traveling to Denver as soon as possible.

Not that the middle of a Colorado winter, especially considering that the ongoing cattle rustling had yet to be resolved, was the best time to leave the ranch. But then, Cord thought as he pushed back his chair, rose, and headed off to find Nick and Sarah, when had anything lately gone his way? Well, gone his way at least when it came to the ranch, he added, his mood brightening as he left the study and caught sight of his beautiful young wife on her way to the kitchen.

In all the ways that
really
mattered, things had most definitely gone his way the day he’d first met Sarah.

“I could help, you know,” Sarah offered the next day as she watched Cord finish packing his satchel with the clothes he’d need in Denver.

Her husband glanced up, a quizzical expression on his face. “With my packing, you mean?”

“No.” From her perch on the side of the bed, she shook her head. “With helping pay back the money for the bulls. It’s not like I don’t bear some responsibility for your current financial situation, after all.”

“I don’t blame you, Sarah.” He managed a smile, then looked down and snapped his satchel shut. “You at least were willing to pay it back.”

She slid off the bed and walked over to stand before him. “I know, but I still feel badly about the robbery. And, right now with money so tight, I thought I could maybe take Ruth Ann at the Wildflower Café up on her offer to work there. Any and every bit of extra money can only help, at least until things settle down.”

Cord sighed, set aside his satchel, and took her by both arms. “First, it wouldn’t make sense to get a job in town unless you lived there. And I’m sure hoping
that
isn’t in your plans. Second, it wouldn’t instill a lot of confidence right now in any of our other creditors to see my wife working. And third, maybe I’m a bit too big and proud for my britches, but I really don’t like the idea of my wife having to take an outside job to help support the ranch.”

Sarah gazed up at him in frustration. Though she hated to admit it, for the most part, Cord was right. It’d be difficult and sometimes even impossible to make it to town during the winter. And they most certainly didn’t need any other creditors calling in their loans just now. But the part about him not wanting her to help out in trying to save the ranch . . .

“I won’t argue with you about the first two reasons,” she said, trying to choose her words carefully, “and for the time being, I’ll respect your pride. But I am now your wife. This ranch is my home, its people are now my family, and I’m not one to stand by and not pitch in when and where help is needed. So just take that under advisement, Mr. Cord Wainwright. If things get much worse, I mean.”

Tenderness flared in his dark eyes. Cord leaned down, kissed her, then pulled back.

“If things get much worse, not only will I be sending you out to tend tables at the Café,” he said with a grin, “but I’ll be getting Nick to hawk apples on the boardwalk and Danny to sing songs with his little tin cup held out for donations. But not just yet, okay? I’m not at the end of my rope just yet. I have a few more ideas up my sleeve.”

Relief filled her. Though it was quite apparent Cord had a proudly stubborn streak, she hadn’t had much opportunity to feel him out about it. It was good to know he could be made to see reason if need be.

“Okay. Just don’t leave me out. I deserve to know what’s going on and be valued for what I can contribute.”

He released her arms and paused to gently stroke her cheek. “Oh, you’re very much valued, sweetheart. Very, very much.

“Now”—he leaned down, picked up his satchel, and straightened—“the sooner I set out and get this unpleasant business settled in Denver, the sooner I can head home. So, if you don’t mind, Mrs. Wainwright . . .”

Sarah stepped aside. “Yes, please do. Head back home just as soon as you can. It’s not like we’ve been married all that long, you know. And we still have a lot of ‘getting to know each other’ left to do.”

Her husband chuckled as he paused at their bedroom door. “You sure know what to say to motivate a man, don’t you, wife?”

“I suppose I do,” she said with a giggle. “But then, who wouldn’t when they’ve got such a good teacher?”

Ten days later, with a weary sigh, Sarah paused yet again in her dusting of the parlor and headed out into the foyer. Danny and Pedro, full of high spirits and pent-up energy after the past two days of frigid weather that had kept both man and beast inside, were at it again. The first time, she had broken up their racing pell-mell down the hall, which had rattled not only the floors but nearly the whole house as well.

This time, they were playing checkers in the library, which of itself was a benign enough game. Every time one boy apparently jumped the other’s piece, however, it was accompanied by shouts of victory and loud stomping of feet. Innocent and understandable noise which under most circumstances, considering their housebound situation, Sarah could’ve tolerated.

But Nick was having a bout of the severe leg and lower back pain he experienced from time to time, and she and Emma had only recently gotten him comfortable with a combination of massage and a dose of laudanum. He desperately needed sleep. The two boys, though, weren’t aiding that sleep in any shape, form, or fashion.

“Okay,” Sarah announced as she walked into the library. “Time for a break for some sugar cookies and milk.”

Her brother slammed down his checker piece and leaped to his feet. “Swell! Let’s go, Pedro.”

Sarah grabbed Danny as he raced by. “Hold on there, young man.” She managed a stern look. “Walk quietly. No running. How many times do I have to remind you that Nick’s trying to sleep?”

“Oh, I forgot. Sorry.”

She released him. “I know. Luckily, the sun’s starting to shine and the wind’s dying down. I’m thinking you two can head outside pretty soon. Just hang on a bit longer, will you?”

Pedro and Danny both nodded solemnly. “Yes, ma’am.”

They made their way to the kitchen with admirable decorum, save for Danny only once jabbing Pedro in the ribs, and the older boy returning the favor. It seemed, with her brother’s much more stable good health these days, all the vigor of a boy his age had returned with a vengeance. A two-edged sword, it was, but one she welcomed more times than not. With a roll of her eyes, Sarah started back to the parlor when she heard the bell tingle in Nick’s room.

“Great,” she muttered. “They managed to wake Nick anyway.”

She hurried down the hall and gently rapped at his door. “Nick?”

“C-come in.”

His reply, sounding almost like a moan, didn’t bode well. Sarah opened the door and walked in.

Nick lay on his bed near the window, his hands fisted knuckle white, clutching his blanket, his face contorted in pain. Concern swelled within. She rushed to his side.

“Has it started up again? The pain, I mean?”

“Y-yes,” he all but gasped out. “I tried to relax and th-think of other things, pray even, but n-nothing seemed to work for long.”

Sarah glanced at the nickel-plated alarm clock on the bedside table. They’d given Nick a dose of laudanum about two hours ago. Technically, it was a bit too soon to give him any more. Doc Saunders, however, had also instructed them that the usual dose could, if necessary, be doubled. Taking another look at Nick’s contorted, sweat-dampened features, Sarah decided this was one of those times.

She grabbed the laudanum sitting on the bedside table and poured a second dose into the spoon. After setting the bottle aside, she bent over him and slid a hand beneath his head to lift it.

“Here, take this.” Sarah offered him the reddish brown colored liquid. “Maybe this is just one of those times when you need a larger dose to help the pain.”

He took it almost eagerly, which was confirmation in itself that Nick was hurting badly. Most times, he was the last one to ask for something to ease his pain, and would only accept the smallest dose necessary. Her heart went out to him. He was always so strong, so brave in the face of his horrible, life-altering injury.

“Is there something I could do to help?” she asked as she laid the spoon back beside the laudanum. “Would you like me to read to you or rub your back and—”

A loud crash sounded somewhere in the house. Sarah jumped, bumping the bedside table. She reached out to right it as the bottle of laudanum teetered and fell. With a gasp, Sarah grabbed for the medicine and missed. The little container hit the hard plank floor and shattered.