War of Hearts, A Historical Romance (25 page)

“Wonderful,” Tristan murmured, not sounding
as excited as the word was meant.

“Well enough talking. I would like to make
sure Sarah is fine for my own eyes.”

Tristan took another drink.

Sarah crept back down to the beach along
with the crew when they saw Tristan wave Jonathan on board. She
still held back in the shadows. Her worry for his safety,
for
their safety
, frightened her.

The men began lowering boats and packages,
and she sat in the shade to wait. Her stomach rumbled and she
reluctantly grabbed a plantain and peeled back the skin before
taking a bite. She was unused to the texture, but she finished it
anyway. She hoped they had some meat in those packages.

She watched the men from the
Sea
Maiden
make repeated trips. She wasn’t familiar with them and
stayed where she was, hoping that Tristan, Wit, or Jonathan would
return soon. She stifled a yawn and leaned back against a tree
trunk to rest her back. Sleep overtook her and she welcomed it.

She woke to her name being called. The wind
twisted it in the air, and the eerie sound gave her chills. The
call came again, and sounded somewhat familiar. She fought her way
out of sleep and sat up, wiping her eyes. A shadow crossed over her
and she looked, expecting to see Tristan.

There stood Robert instead; for a second she
thought she might still be asleep and in some kind of surreal
dream, or nightmare perhaps. But Tristan stood behind him, his
usual carefree face clouded with worry.

“Robert? What are you doing here?” Her hand
went to her chest in shock. Not speaking, Robert leaned down,
pulled her up to her feet and into a warm embrace.

Sarah hugged him back half-heartedly. When
he bent his mouth for a kiss she turned her head allowing his lips
to fall to her cheek. She stepped away, looking from Tristan to
Robert and back again. “I don’t understand how you can be here,”
she murmured, more to herself than anyone.

Tristan stepped forward and grabbed her arm
as her knees gave way. Robert grabbed her other one and they all
sat on the ground in an awkward circle.

“The
Sea Maiden
was damaged; they
made it to New Jersey and happened upon Robert.” Tristan
explained.

“I stayed on after the battle,” Robert
explained further.

“The battle? Did we lose many men?” Sarah
couldn’t help asking.

“Not as many as the British,” Robert
replied, not wanting to worry her with numbers.

“How many?” she asked again with more
determination.

“I’m not sure of the exact count, there was
much confusion. Men were dropping from the heat. We lost over
seventy, and twice that many were wounded.”

Sarah was quiet as she let it sink in,
giving thought to each one. With the news of death, she was quite
pleased to be carrying life. “What about Margaret?”

He smiled and patted her arm. “Margaret is
fine, she moved on with the army.”

Sarah nodded her thanks for the good news.
Hopefully they would meet up again someday.

“Sarah, I can’t believe you risked your life
on this silly adventure. Do you know what could have happened to
you?” Robert continued.

“Silly? It worked did it not? I’m not
ignorant. I had to do something. I wasn’t about to sit around and
sip tea while they rot.”

“Sarah, I could have lost you.”

Sarah closed her eyes. She felt Tristan
shift next to her; she knew he was anxious, he loved them both.
Opening them she looked at her old friend. “Robert, I was never
yours to lose,” Sarah said sadly.

He glanced from one to the other as they
both avoided his eyes. “So what, you and Tristan?”

“Yes, I’m with Tristan.”

“You barely know him! He has never taken
anything seriously in his life!” Robert spat out incredulously.

Tristan moved toward her and placed his hand
on her thigh. “Sarah and I know each other very well,” he
responded, meeting Robert’s eyes with a smirk.

Robert glowered back. “You have never done
anything unless it was in your best interest!”

“How’s your wife?” Tristan countered.

“Boys!” Sarah yelled as the two moved toward
each other. “I will not be fought over like the last tart! Robert,
you know my feelings for you. There will be no fighting; Tristan
and I are together in every meaning of the word, and I will soon be
showing proof of that.”

Robert’s eyes widened as her meaning sunk
in. He turned, catching Tristan off guard, landing a punch to his
jaw. Sarah screamed, trying to move out of the way. She scrambled
to her feet and grabbed up a stick. She used it to swat whoever was
on top as they rolled around. The sound of twigs breaking was heard
as some of the crew moved in to drag them apart.

They were both scuffed and bleeding. Tristan
glared over at Robert as he stood. “Good seeing you again,
brother.” He turned and headed off toward their tiny retreat and
Sarah followed him.

She picked her way along the small path,
thorns pulled at her skirt as she tried to catch up with his longer
strides. She cried out, her hair caught in a bramble.

Overcome with emotion, the tears flowed as
she tried to yank her tresses free. She cursed again, cutting her
tender hand on the spikey leaves. Tristan’s shadow moved over her.
With a swift slice, his knife blade cut her free. Grasping her
shoulders, he turned the sobbing woman into his chest and held her
tightly.

“I’m sorry, Sarah; don’t cry.”

“You have to talk to him; you have to work
things out,” she rasped out when she had finally calmed down enough
to speak. “I would give anything to be able to speak with Silas
again.”

“And what would I say? That he is right?
That I was an ass? That I changed when I met you?” Tristan
asked.

“That would be a good start,” Robert’s deep
timbre replied.

Tristan looked up over Sarah’s shoulder to
see his brother standing behind her on the path. His wise older
brother, whom he had always looked up to. He stared at him,
noticing for the first time that he had changed as well. His face
was weathered, the lines deeper. One that had seen too much death,
yet he survived. A determined face, one that held his future.

“I’m not the same reckless idiot that you
left behind. I thought you were crazy when you left. That you were
on a death march. And after putting up with your wife after you
abandoned her, I thought I could see why. But, I was wrong. Sarah
made me see that. I thought you were running from something, but
now I know you were running to something and I was too senseless to
see it.”

Sarah stepped aside, her eyes fresh with new
tears as the brothers hugged. No one knew what the future would
hold, but right now it seemed pretty bright.

Releasing his brother and roughly wiping his
own eyes, Tristan turned to Sarah. “Sarah, I don’t have much to
offer at the moment, but I would be a proud man if you would truly
be my wife.”

Unable to speak, she nodded before once
again dissolving into tears.

Robert chuckled. “I think that’s a yes.”

“Where do we go from here?” Tristan
asked.

Sarah turned her shining eyes up to look at
him. “We finish what we started. We head back to America, and we
fight.”

Tristan shook his head. “It is too dangerous
for you, you have family in Georgia, you should be safe there.”

“Don’t count on it; last I heard they were
moving troops to Savannah. The British will attack from the sea,
the Rebels need every ship there is,” Gabriel spoke with Jonathan
by his side.

“How does the crew feel?” Tristan asked,
leery after the last mutiny.

Gabriel laughed, “They are itching for a
fight. Especially if they can take on the cowards on the
Vixen
.”

Sarah grasped Tristan’s arm. “Don’t leave me
behind. I once asked Margaret why she followed the Army. She said
the worry would have killed her. I know how she feels; I want to be
with you, always.”

Tristan sighed. “Do you really think we
stand a chance?”

Sarah lifted her chin with pride. “I have
seen men marching half dead, the only thing keeping their feet
moving was the passion in their heart with the knowledge that they
are not fighting for themselves, but for freedom. You may have
doubts, but I know that we can win this war. You can never defeat
courage.”

“I believe in you, Sarah, and together we
can conquer anything.” Tristan pulled her into his arms and held
her close. If he needed to defeat an empire to protect her and his
child, then so be it.

Mississippi, 1882

She stared intently at the still water, not
daring to whisper.  A soft breeze blew, spilling several stray
strands of her long brown hair into her face. Impatiently she
whisked them away as they tickled her nose.  She could see
shadows through the murky water as she sat on the bank.  A
flow of bubbles erupted from the depths and she smiled slightly as
she saw more, then felt a slight tug on her line.  Realizing
its mistake the fish flailed around, haplessly trying to get free.
 Its erratic movements caused the surface of the water to
quiver.  Patiently she waited just a breath longer, letting
the fish tire out a little, as she had been so carefully taught.
 

“Ha!”  she exclaimed into the still
morning, as she jubilantly pulled her line out of the water. The
large bass dangling from her hook was the biggest one yet.

“Sabrina!” a deep voice growled from nearby,
“You’re supposed to be quiet. You just scared away the one near my
line.”  She looked over at the large ebony-skinned man
sprawled next to her in the tall grass at the edge of the river.
 Although he was only two years older than she was, he was
three times her size.

“Oh Samuel, you’re just jealous. Besides we
already caught enough fish this morning to practically feed the
whole town.”

“Yeah, and you caught most of them,” Samuel
grumbled good-naturedly.

“Guess you taught me too well.” 

“Guess you’re right. We better be headin’
back be-fore your father starts looking for us. ‘Sides you gotta
get ready for the festival,” Samuel said, not bothering to hide his
grin.

 Sabrina groaned; she hated town
functions, mostly because she was forced to dress up, and Samuel,
her best friend, was not allowed to go.  She looked down at
her mud-soaked britches and sighed.  The town was having a
dance and a fish fry at the town hall.  Since her pa was a
Marshall, she had to go.

 Reluctantly, they clambered to their
feet and pulled up their strings of fish from the water.
 Sabrina was struggling with her heavy load but Samuel knew
better than to offer his help.  He tossed his pole over his
shoulder and the two headed toward Montgomery, their home.
 Montgomery was her mother’s maiden name, her father built the
beautiful manor and named it after her mother out of
devotion. 

When Samuel was not working on the ranch he
spent much of his free time with Sabrina, and loved her like a
sister. His own sister had died from yellow fever years ago, and
the only true family he had left was his mother. Samuel’s mother
worked for Sabrina’s family also. She and Samuel had a small house
set back behind Montgomery. Since Sabrina’s whole family was going
into town, the help was given the day off to enjoy the festivities.
 

Sabrina sighed as she slowly picked her way
along the well-worn path through the woods.  It was no fair;
Samuel wanted to go to the festival but his mother would not allow
it, and she didn’t want to go but was forced to go anyway.
 

So bitter was Sabrina’s mood, she paid no
attention to her surroundings even though it was a lovely morn-ing.
 It had been an especially brutal summer, but the light breeze
hinted that fall may come sooner than ex-pected.  The two
traipsing through the woods were an unusual pair to behold but they
both had the same passion for life and adventure, and this,
especially, made them compatible. 

As they neared the edge of the woods, they
started to smell an odd scent. It lingered on the air for an
instant and then it was gone.  However, its effects were not.
 The brief whiff of smoke stopped them cold. Alma, Samuel’s
mother, would have already had the wood stove up and running by
this time, but it was not the sweet scent of the chicory wood that
they smelled but something more frightening. Dropping the fish and
equipment, they did not dare glance at each other as they quickly
made their way up to the top of the knoll.  At the peak,
Sabrina stopped dead at the horrifying sight. Her home was on fire.
 She started to run but Samuel caught her and pulled her back
down behind the tree line.  

 She started to fight him at first
until she saw what he did: two strange men pulling Lydia, her older
sister, from around the back of the house. She was kicking and
screaming.  Lydia kicked one of the men hard enough to gain
her freedom.  As she headed in Sabrina's direction, a single
shot rang out, dropping her to the ground as the men chasing her
caught up.