A Heart Divided (10 page)

“Wainwright business, I’d say.” His father swung down from his horse and strode over to stand eye-to-eye with his son. “What in the blazes is going on here? Is what Allis said true? Is this girl really a Caldwell?”

Cord held his ground. “This isn’t a topic for public discussion. Let’s go inside.”

“Wait just a dad-blasted minute!” Edmund grabbed his arm. “No one’s ordering me around on my own ranch, and especially not some fool son of mine. Answer my question!”

“And I said, this is something best discussed inside,” Cord replied, his gaze going dark and hard.

Edmund’s face purpled. “Why, you arrogant pup,” he snarled, his fists rising. “How dare—”

Sarah stepped between them. She could care less if Edmund Wainwright made a fool of himself in front of everyone, but she refused to be a pawn in Allis Findley’s attempt to humiliate her and Cord.

“You asked who I was, Mr. Wainwright,” she said, mustering all her courage to confront him, “and I’m not ashamed to tell you. It’s just as Allis said. I’m Sarah—Jacob Caldwell’s daughter.”

6

A light rap on the door interrupted Sarah. She turned from her seat near the window and quickly looked to the bed to see if the sound had woken Danny. The little boy slept on. Expelling a small sigh, she rose from the rocking chair. Whoever it was, she’d best see to the visitor before the knocking woke her brother. He at least could have a calm, uneventful day.

And what a day it had been, she thought as she made her way to the door, from snobbish Allis Findley to Edmund Wainwright’s crazed ravings. Though she’d stayed in her room the rest of the day with Danny, Sarah knew Cord and his father had spent the next several hours locked in the library, deep in what had frequently been a very heated discussion. Emma had wasted no time filling her in about that when she’d brought up their supper tray several hours ago.

Sarah reached the door, then hesitated. Whatever the outcome of the two men’s dialogue, she knew this was probably her last night under the Wainwright roof. The realization stirred anew the dull ache in her chest. With a force that mirrored her pain, she jerked open the door.

Cord stood there, the dim hallway light throwing his face into shadow. Nonetheless, it was evident from the slight droop to his broad shoulders and rumpled clothes that he was exhausted. An impulse to smooth the tousled hair from his forehead filled her. Only the strongest effort controlled it. There was nothing between them and never had been, she fiercely reminded herself.

“I need to talk with you, Sarah.”

His rich, resonant voice reverberated in the quiet hallway, finding its answering chord in the depths of her heart. Sarah swallowed hard. “I . . . I can’t. Danny’s asleep.”

He shook his head. “No, I meant come down with me to the library.”

She didn’t move.

“Please, Sarah.”

Stepping from her bedroom, she pulled the door closed behind her. For a breathless instant they stood so close his nearness was a tangible, heart-stopping experience. Sarah’s senses began to spin. Then he moved aside, motioning her ahead of him.

Though she’d passed the library several times today, Sarah had never taken the opportunity to examine the room. Now, as she walked in for the first time, her gaze hungrily scanned the enclosure, moving first to the ceiling-high shelves lining three of the room’s four walls. There were hundreds of books, all bound in rich, beautifully hand-tooled leather.

The recollection that many had been bought by Cord for his invalid brother filled her with a warm glow. This room, of all the rooms in the house, emanated his presence the most strongly, the books he’d chosen an eloquent statement of his innermost self. An urge to take one down and read it, to learn more of the man, swelled within her.

Sarah glanced across the room to its only window. The velvet curtains were drawn against the evening’s cool mountain air. The only light that stayed the encroaching darkness was that of two oil lamps set on opposite ends of a massive oak desk. It was a cozy, intimate room, and suddenly, as Sarah heard the door close behind her, the outside world melted away. The only reality was the moment—and a darkly attractive man named Cord.

“Please sit down, Sarah.”

He indicated the overstuffed green velvet couch that graced a corner in front of the bookshelves. As she silently complied, words solidified in her throat. Rather than meet his piercing gaze, once she was seated she busied herself with smoothing the folds of her dress and felt, rather than heard, him settle himself in a wing chair across from her.

Reluctantly, Sarah looked up. For the briefest moment, she almost imagined she saw a tender light gleam in Cord’s eyes. If she had, the light was quickly extinguished. He leaned forward.

“I want to apologize for my father’s outburst this afternoon,” he began, his voice soft yet vibrant in the silent room. “I hadn’t planned on him finding out about you and Danny quite that way.”

A smile touched her lips. “Allis seemed to have a different view of how things should be handled.”

Cord sighed. “She certainly doesn’t care much for you. I can’t recall ever seeing her so cruel or vindictive.”

“I’m afraid that goes back a long while. Don’t concern yourself. Her feelings for me are nothing I can’t handle.”

“No, I imagine not.” Grudging respect shone in his eyes. “Still, I’m sorry for what happened today. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my father. He too has been terribly scarred by what happened in the past. Today’s events change nothing, however.” He ran a weary hand through his hair. “You and Danny will stay until the money’s returned or Gabe gets back and takes you into custody.”

“B-but your father said he refused to let us remain under his roof.”

“Once he calms down, my father is still capable of reason. He finally agreed my plan was the best of all alternatives.”

Sarah didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. On one hand, she didn’t want to leave Cord. On the other, he was keeping her and Danny from their family. And then, on the other,
other
hand, he likely was wishing he could be rid of them as soon as possible.

“Thanks for all your efforts on our part,” she replied, focusing on the likelihood Cord wanted them gone just as much as did his father.

He must have taken her tone of voice as sarcasm, for he grinned. “And just when I thought you were beginning to enjoy it here.”

Her cheeks warmed. “I appreciate your kindness, especially considering the circumstances, but we both know you’re keeping us all but prisoners.”

His smile faded. “No, Sarah. Your father’s the one keeping you prisoners. You’ve been with us six days now, and Danny almost three. Yet, in all that time, there’s not been one word from him.”

“I’m sure Doc hasn’t even had a chance to get a message to him yet,” she said, rising to her father’s defense.

Cord shook his head. “On the contrary. Doc said he met one of your brothers in town the very next day and told him to tell your father. He’s had the message for two days now.”

Confusion filled her. “I don’t understand. When did Doc tell you this? I haven’t seen him—”

“He showed up today, a short while after my father arrived. His visit, in retrospect, was instrumental in swaying my father to my view of things.”

“But I don’t . . .” She cut off further protest, deciding to deal with the reality of the situation. “I’m sure Papa will get a message through to you any time now. He just has to be careful. What reason should he have to trust any of you?”

Cord shrugged. “None at all, Sarah. But then, the feeling’s mutual, isn’t it? I just think the welfare of one’s children should be one’s first consideration, don’t you?”

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” Sarah angrily punctuated the statement by jumping to her feet. “And I’ve had about all I can take of insults about my papa.”

Her fists clenched white as she stood there. “Let me tell you one thing, Mr. High and Mighty Wainwright. We may have fallen on hard times, but we’re not trash! Despite our misfortunes, we’ve done the best we could. And we’re still a family, loving and devoted, which is more than your family apparently has ever been!”

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers moving to temple beneath his chin. “Striking a little below the belt, aren’t you, Sarah?” he asked, his voice low and controlled. “And all of this is my family’s fault, is it?”

“Of course it’s your family’s fault!” she snapped, all the day’s pent-up emotions bursting forth. “This ranch was ours until your father cheated mine. What chance did my papa have against a professional gambler? Your father knew his weakness for the cards, and pushed him until all he had left was the ranch. My papa never had a chance, and it broke him heart and soul.”

Cord rose. “Come on. Be reasonable. No one’s a victim unless he chooses to be. Neither of our fathers has made wise decisions, even if mine has more wealth to show for it. Yet have you or I fallen prey to self-pity or inaction? Put the blame where it belongs—on your father’s back.”

“No.” She stubbornly shook her head. “Say what you will about your own father, Cord Wainwright, but don’t you dare include my papa with yours! He may lose his way at times, but at heart he’s a good man. I won’t have you speaking ill of him.”

Tears filled her eyes and, in spite of her efforts to stifle them, spilled down her cheeks. “Please,” she choked out as she brushed them away. “I-I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

It was all Cord could do to keep from taking Sarah into his arms. The reality of her situation was finally beginning to make inroads into her blind faith for her father, and he knew it hurt. Still, she needed to face it if she were ever to be free of the bonds of her father’s vengeance-laden life. He just hated causing her pain.

His gaze swept her slim form. No, hurting Sarah was the furthest thing from his mind.

Her sweet presence filled the room, whirling around him in heady waves that blotted out all thought but Sarah. Sarah . . . whose moods possessed the inconstancy of the mountain weather. Sarah . . . who, like the ever-changing climate, was just as unsettling, beguiling him with her complexity, drawing him ever toward her . . .

With a jerk, Cord stepped back. What was the matter with him? It was almost more than he could bear to keep a safe distance. Yet there she stood, proud and defiant, ready to do battle for her family’s honor, as dishonorable as that family was. Would they ever span that chasm of hostilities?

“Look,” Cord said, trying one more time. “It hasn’t been a pleasant day for either of us. We’re both tired. I didn’t mean to start a fight over your father. All I meant was that you’ve got to stop taking responsibility for him. Start thinking about you and Danny. People over whose lives you
do
have a little control.”

She shook her head in denial, but Cord could tell by the sudden muting of anger in her eyes that his point had driven home.

“He’s my papa. I owe him my love and devotion.”

“Yes, you do.” His voice gentled. “But not to the sacrifice of your own life and happiness. Neither of us owe
that
much to our fathers.”

Perplexed by the fleeting thread of pain she heard in his voice, Sarah lifted her gaze to his. The fire that always burned in his dark eyes had faded, extinguished by some tightly guarded memory. He stood before her as an enemy, but also as a man. A man who felt deeply, gave of what he possessed generously, while always holding back the far greater treasure of his heart. A tempting treasure she felt compelled to mine, even as common sense told her to run as fast and far away as she could.