A Heart Divided (24 page)

Three days later, Sarah stood on the front porch as Cord rode up late in the morning, dismounted, and handed his horse off to one of the hands. By his grim expression and the fact he couldn’t quite meet her gaze, she knew something was decidedly different about last night’s posse. Something that didn’t bode well for her father and brothers.

Barely had Cord reached the porch when Sarah rushed up to him. “What happened? No one got hurt, did they?”

“Sarah, I’ve been up all night and I’m cold and hungry.” His glance was weary when he finally met hers. “Can’t this wait until we get inside and I at least have one cup of coffee?”

She took a step backward. “I’m sorry. I just . . . just need to know if you caught my father and brothers. And that no one got hurt.”

He sighed. “No one got seriously hurt, only a little banged up. And yes, we did catch your father and one of your brothers. Your other brother got away.”

She swallowed hard, her mouth gone dry. “Which one got away? Caleb or Noah?”

“Caleb.” He indicated the front door. “Now, can the rest wait until I get some coffee?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Fighting back tears, Sarah walked over and opened the door. “I’m sorry. This is just . . . just so hard.”

“I know.” Cord took hold of the door and motioned her inside. “Let’s just take it one day at a time, and we’ll get through this. Okay?”

“Okay.” Her tears spilled over, and she swiped them away. “I love you very much, you know.”

He smiled. “And I love you.”

Nick was in the kitchen with Manuela. The woman took one look at Sarah and Cord, pulled two mugs down from the cabinet, filled them with coffee, and put them on the table. Next, after retrieving a covered platter of cinnamon rolls from the top of the warm cookstove, she added them to the table along with three plates and then hurried from the kitchen.

“Leave it to Manuela to always know when to make a strategic exit,” Nick said from his spot at one end of the table. “You, little brother, look like something the cat dragged in. And Angel, you’ve been crying, haven’t you? So, I’m guessing something big happened last night.”

Cord pulled out a chair for Sarah. She sat down, and he took a seat beside her.

“Yeah, we finally caught Jacob and one of his sons.” Cord grabbed his mug and added a spoonful of sugar, stirred his coffee, then looked to his brother. “The other son got away.”

“So, what’s the plan now?” Nick shot Sarah a concerned look.

“What else? Wait for the circuit judge to show up, and try them in court.” He sipped his steaming coffee carefully. “In the meantime, I’m betting the other Caldwell boy won’t be rustling any cattle by himself.”

“The hands will be glad to hear that. They’d far prefer spending their nights in a warm bunkhouse from here on out, rather than riding the herd . . .”

Gradually, Sarah became aware that the conversation had died. She looked up from the mug of coffee she clasped between her hands and saw two pairs of eyes riveted on her.

“I’m sorry. Did someone ask me a question?”

Nick reached over and laid a hand on her arm. “No, Angel. We were just making conversation to cover the awkwardness, and finally ran out of things to say.”

She glanced from Nick to Cord. “I don’t mean to put a damper on your happiness. It’s just . . . hard.”

“We’re not so much happy as relieved that it’s over, Sarah,” Cord said. “Well, almost over, anyway.”

“They’ll need a lawyer.” She met his gaze, dreading his response but all the same having to ask. “Could . . . could you find someone to defend them?”

“Defend them?” Cord stared back at her, aghast. “What’s there to defend? The facts speak for themselves. First, Jacob and his boys robbed us of over two thousand dollars. Then they stole our cattle, most likely several times, and one of those times it resulted in my father’s death.”

“But there are extenuating circumstances.” Her heart pounded in her chest, and every word was wrenched from her, but Sarah had to speak them. “Father’s not in his right mind or he’d never have done what he did. And my brothers . . . It’s gotten so they no longer know right from wrong. If you at least spoke up for them at the trial, maybe the judge would show a little mercy.”

“Mercy?” Cord pushed back his chair and stood, turning to glare down at her. “I think the time’s long past for mercy, Sarah. What’s needed now is some old-fashioned justice!”

“Easy, Cord,” his brother cautioned. “This isn’t Sarah’s fault.”

Cord dragged in a long, slow breath. “No, it’s not Sarah’s fault.”

He looked to her, and she saw something harden in him. Her heart sank.

“This probably isn’t the best time to be talking about this,” he said. “I’m tired, both mentally and physically, of what your family’s put me through these past few months. My father’s dead because of them. And we still have yet to recover any of the money your father stole from us, much less our cattle, which seem to have disappeared off the face of the earth. I’m sorry, but I’m just not finding a whole lot of mercy in me right about now. So, no, Sarah. I won’t be helping in any way in their defense. Not now or ever!”

With that, Cord wheeled around and stalked from the kitchen, his cup of coffee still steaming on the table.

Fresh tears filled Sarah’s eyes. She felt as if he’d slapped her, and slapped her hard. His anger had been a terrible thing to behold, and a sudden realization that she didn’t really know him swamped her. Leastwise, not the man who’d just stood before her.

“That probably wasn’t the best time to ask for Cord’s intervention for your family,” Nick offered from his end of the table.

“Would there ever have been a good time?” Sarah heard the bitterness fill her voice. Right about now, though, she didn’t really care.

“You’re not being fair. In everything he’s done regarding your family, Cord’s tried to consider your feelings. But the past weeks since Pa’s death have worn him down. He hasn’t even fully come to terms with losing our father, and then there’s been all the long nights going out after your father and brothers, not to mention trying to keep the ranch running on a shoestring.”

“And don’t you think it’s been just as hard on me?” she cried. “I’ve been agonizing about what to do. About my commitment to Cord and my love for him, over what I still owe my own family. And just because my head tells me one thing doesn’t mean my heart isn’t trying to convince me of another.”

“I know that, Angel, and so does Cord. And don’t think he doesn’t agonize over that too. He knows you’re hurting.”

Sarah looked down, her eyes blurred by the tears that just kept coming. “I don’t know if this is going to work out between us, Nick. There just seems to be so many things that keep getting in our way.”

“Don’t think or even say that.” He leaned over and took her hand in his. “You’re both too worn out and emotional now. This isn’t the time to make any decisions about your future—together or otherwise. Let it go for a while. Put it all in the Lord’s hands. Hands far more capable than ours can ever be.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “Right about now, I’m not seeing the Lord’s hand in any of this. Cord refuses to intervene. And with my father’s prison record and now the robbery and cattle rustling, not to mention Edmund’s death, even if it was an accident, short of a miracle from above my father may well be sentenced to death.”

“Most times, the Lord expects
us
to be the miracle workers for each other. But you’re right. Miracles might well be in short supply for your father. A man can only keep piling on the evil deeds for so long, and punishment finally catches up with him.”

“If he dies . . .” She choked back a sob. “How can God mean for anything good to come out of that?”

“How can any good come out of my father’s death either?” He smiled sadly. “We’re both still waiting to see about that. But that’s where faith comes in. A faith strong and certain that, even in the darkest times, God is closer than ever, holding us up, guiding us toward the light. And there will be light again. There will be answers. The Lord promised us that and, no matter what, you can count on Him to honor His word.”

“Now, make sure you keep your face covered with this muffler,” Sarah said, leaning down to tug the woolen scarf up over her brother’s nose and mouth. “And warm up slowly for fifteen minutes first thing, before you start running about like a crazed mustang. You don’t want to set off your asthma out in the cold, you know.”

Danny nodded. “Yes, I know. You only remind me every time I go out to play. You’d think I was dumb or something.”

She straightened and smiled. “You’re right. I do remind you every time, and you’re not dumb. So, scoot.” She opened the front door, and a gust of snow-laden air whirled in. “And have fun!”

Her brother dashed out the door so fast, Sarah wondered if he’d even heard her last instruction. Only when he hit the bottom of the porch steps did he slow his pace and walk sedately out to where Pedro awaited him. She closed the door with a soft chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

Cord’s deep voice, just steps behind her, wrenched Sarah from her happy reverie. Memories of yesterday’s unpleasant episode in the kitchen returned. Her smile faded.

“I was chiding Danny not to get too rambunctious outside and set off an asthma attack,” she replied, turning to face Cord. “And he chided me in turn, saying I was being too overprotective.”

“Well, the boy’s had some hard times in the past with his asthma. Although I don’t recall any episodes, since that first day he arrived, when he’s had an attack as bad as that.”

“Nor nearly as many either,” Sarah said, mentally counting. “Actually, Danny’s done the best ever since he came to live here. And I’ve got you to thank for that.”

His guarded expression softened. “For a long while now, I haven’t begrudged either you or Danny a place here. You know that, Sarah.”

The same generosity, she well knew, wouldn’t be extended to her father and other two brothers. Indeed, Cord seemed intent on never offering any help to them. But why should he? All they’d ever done was try to harm him in some way or another, slapping aside any and all overtures he’d made to ease the tension and hard feelings.

Yet something about his unwillingness to forgive nagged at her . . .

“I know, and I’ve always appreciated your kindness to us, Cord,” Sarah said, forcing the uneasy thoughts back into the recesses of her mind. “Truly, I have.”

His gaze warmed. “I’m sorry for yesterday’s outburst. It didn’t have to come out quite so angry and hard.”

“You were tired. I should’ve waited to speak about it till later.”

Cord’s hands, lifting to take her by the arms, fell back at his sides. “Maybe so, but waiting would’ve only spared you my anger. It wouldn’t have changed my decision.”

Somehow, Sarah had known that. Still, having it confirmed hurt. The sense of pending reconciliation faded. The chasm forming between them widened yet a bit more.

“Well, be that as it may,” she forced herself to say, “I do have another favor to ask of you.”

“And that favor is?” By the look on his face, Sarah knew he was girding himself for yet another refusal.

“When were you planning on going next to town?”

“This afternoon. It looks like the sun is about to peek through the clouds, and the snow is starting to let up too. Why?”

“I’d like to go with you, if you don’t mind.” She paused, gathering all her courage for the next part of her request. “I need to see my father and brother.”

Cord’s expression hardened. She could feel him emotionally withdraw even as he stepped back from her.

“Please, Cord. I can’t just turn my back on them, no matter what they’ve done. Please try and understand.”

“And I’ve no right or desire to keep you from them, if that’s what you want. It’s always been your choice, Sarah. Just know that you’re not the only one stretched pretty thin right about now. Just remember that.”

“I know, Cord.” Pain twisted in her breast. “I know.”

He eyed her intently for a long moment. “Do you?” he softly asked. “Do you really?”

Not awaiting her reply, Cord turned and walked away.

14

Heart pounding, Sarah paused outside Ashton’s jail. She shot Cord, standing beside her, a quick, sideways glance. His expression was hard, his jaw set.

He’s not looking forward to this visit any more than I am, if for perhaps different reasons.

For a fleeting instant, Sarah considered asking him to take her home. Back to the safe, secure life she’d been building at the ranch. A part of her—a big part—dreaded what was next to come, and the impact it might have on what seemed to be their rapidly shredding relationship.

But another part impelled her to forge ahead. The part of her that still cared for her father and brothers. The part that still clung to the faint hope of reconciliation and, somehow, some way, reparation.

“Nothing good can come of this, Sarah,” Cord said just then, turning to look at her. “Your father’s beyond saving.”

Her gaze narrowed. Anger filled her. “No one’s beyond saving. If God wills it—”

“Even God can’t save your father from his well-deserved punishment!” he spat out, fury burning now in his eyes. “Leastwise, not while he’s still on this earth anyway.”

He says that because of what happened to his own father. A father he seemed to hate until just a short while before his death.

An impulse to point out the contradiction in Cord’s sudden change of heart swept through Sarah, and she almost uttered the words. But something held her back.

What purpose was served heaping pain upon pain? Someone had to be merciful, to see past all the anger and hatred to what truly mattered. To find Christ and His love somewhere in all of this.

A sense of peace flooded her. She reached out, laid a hand on Cord’s arm.

“I just need to do this. Maybe it won’t accomplish anything, won’t make any difference to my father or Noah. But
I
need to do it. Please, just stand by me.”

His dark gaze bored into her, and she saw myriad emotions flash by. Doubt, love, confusion, and fear.

But fear of what?
she wondered.
Why is a simple visit to my father and brother a source of fear for him? Does he also sense the rift widening between us? Is he equally as terrified that he might lose me as I am of losing him?

With all her heart, Sarah wanted to reassure him that nothing would ever come between them and their love. But right now she wasn’t so sure anymore. Gazing up at him, she felt like she was almost with a stranger.

“Fine.” Cord clipped out the word. “If you’re so set on making yourself even more miserable, who am I to get in your way?” He turned from her, gripped the doorknob, and twisted it, shoving open the door. “Ladies first,” he said, indicating she should enter before him.

It wasn’t the response she’d been hoping for, but Sarah decided this wasn’t the time or place to belabor the details. She squared her shoulders and walked inside.

Gabe looked up from the woodstove in the far corner, where, pot in hand, he was pouring himself a mug of coffee. Sam Hayden sat nearby at his desk, reading a book. The warmth of the room felt good after the frigid cold outside. As Cord entered behind her and closed the door, Sarah removed her gloves, wool coat, and hat.

“I figured you’d be paying a visit sooner or later,” the lawman said. He lifted his mug. “Want some coffee to warm you up?”

“No, thank you.” Sarah glanced to the door that led to the back room and jail cells. “If it’s all right with you, I’d rather just see my father and brother.”

“Sure.” He paused, eyeing her. “I’m assuming you don’t have any knives or a gun hidden on you?”

She blushed. She hadn’t considered the possibility that her motives for visiting her family might be suspected.

“No, I don’t.” Sarah firmly shook her head. “Nor any files or dynamite to break them out either.”

Gabe gestured in the direction of the cells. “Then have at it.”

She nodded in wordless gratitude, then headed across the room.

“How about you, Cord?” she heard Gabe ask as she opened the door and walked inside, taking care to leave the door partially askew so Gabe and Cord would know she had nothing to hide in her visit with her father and brother. “Care for some coffee?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” was Cord’s reply.

Sarah found her father and Noah in the farthest of the four cells in the long, narrow room. At her entrance, both men looked up. Surprise registered on Noah’s bruised and battered face. Strangely, though, her father’s glance was calm, almost as if he’d fully expected her to come.

A small stool stood in the corner outside their cell, and Sarah pulled it over and sat. For a long moment, she shifted her gaze from her father to her brother, then back again.

Her father looked ill, his skin a pasty color, his lips blue-tinged, his breathing ragged. He had become increasingly short of breath in the past year or so, and suffered at times from swollen feet and ankles, but Sarah had never seen him look this bad. Fear clutched her heart, squeezing it in a painful grip.

“Papa, what’s wrong with you? Have you been to see Doc—”

“Is it true?” her father asked of a sudden, cutting her off. “Are you engaged to that tinhorn Wainwright’s younger son?”

Of all the things she might have expected her father to say, this was the last question she would’ve anticipated.

“Yes, I am engaged to Cord,” Sarah replied, realizing there was no point served in prevarication. “He’s been very kind to Danny and me and, in time, I found myself falling in love with him.”

Noah sighed loudly and shook his head. “I never would’ve thought that of you, Sarah. Selling yourself to the highest bidder, I mean.” He looked to his father. “We should’ve never involved her in that robbery, Pa. We’ve gone and lost our sweet, innocent little Sarah.”

“Now, wait just one minute.” This conversation was veering far off course. She wasn’t here to defend her actions but to get them to change and repent of theirs. “For one thing, I haven’t sold myself to the Wainwrights, and I’m just as innocent as I was that day I came into town with you, Papa, to get that medicine for Danny. The Wainwrights have treated me with respect and kindness”—since it really didn’t add to the essential truth of her story, she decided to omit the first few days of her captivity—“and Cord and his brother Nick have always,
always
been the perfect gentlemen.

“But I didn’t come here to discuss my choice of a husband,” Sarah then continued, “nor is it what really matters right now. You’re both in jail and soon to stand trial for robbing the Wainwrights, not to mention cattle rustling. And you’re my family and I love you. I came to see how you were, if you need anything.”

Jacob Caldwell once more stirred to life. “What do you have of your own, girl, that hasn’t been given to you by the Wainwrights? And do you think we’d ever accept anything from those cheating, thieving varmints?”

Exasperation filled her. “It’s long past time, Papa, that you stop calling the Wainwrights thieves and cheats. What you and my brothers have been doing of late is far, far more serious. So serious that you, especially, might suffer far worse than just going to prison.”

Her father shrugged. “Well, then you’d be well rid of me, wouldn’t you? You could forget you ever were a Caldwell, up in that fine house on that fine ranch that was stolen from your papa.”

“Don’t say that!” Sarah leaned forward and clasped the iron cell bars separating her from them. “I love you, and I always will. But you’ve got to stop this crazy vendetta before it destroys us all.”

“Destroys your chances of marrying into the Wainwrights, you mean,” he said with a derisive snort.

“No.” She fixed her gaze on him. “Whether Cord and I can get past all this hatred and turmoil isn’t what matters here. What matters is what
you’re
doing to our family. Rather than return the money you stole, you chose instead to desert Danny and me. If anyone sold anyone out, that’s what
you
did to
us
. And look what’s become of Caleb and Noah. You’ve turned them into robbers and cattle rustlers, with Noah now facing prison and Caleb all alone and on the run. Not to mention what this life did to Mama, aging her beyond her years until she finally sickened and died!”

“Don’t you ever speak so of your mother!” Jacob screamed, lunging at her.

In her effort to evade her father’s hands, curved into claws, stretching toward her through the cell bars, Sarah toppled off her stool. Cord, followed by Gabe, rushed into the room.

His face dark with fury, Cord stalked down the aisle and helped Sarah to her feet. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

“No, he didn’t hurt me. I’m fine. Papa just startled me, and I tipped over the stool.” She managed a lame little smile. “Guess I wasn’t sitting on it as squarely as I should’ve.”

“Yeah, maybe not,” Cord replied, not appearing at all convinced. He turned to face Jacob, who was still standing there looking as if he wanted nothing more than to throttle Cord if he could’ve only reached him. “Just keep the shouting and threats down, Caldwell. There’s no cause to treat Sarah that way.”

“You’re right,” the older man snarled. “I should save it for you, corrupter of innocent young women.”

Gabe walked over and took Cord by the arm. “Come on. It’s best you not be in here right now.”

“Or ever,” Cord said, his eyes glittering. “Old man or not, I don’t know what I’d do if I got my hands on him.” He looked to Sarah. “One more outburst like that from your father, and I’m taking you home.”

She knew he was only saying that because he was upset with how her father had yelled at her, not to mention all the pent-up anger he must feel toward her father for all the trouble he’d caused. Some part of her, though, didn’t like being talked to as if she were some child who needed protecting. Still, Sarah bit back a sharp reply and nodded.

“It was my fault. I said some hurtful things. But it won’t happen again. I promise.”

Cord gave a curt nod, then wheeled about and followed Gabe from the room. Sarah waited a minute or two, then again faced her father and brother.

“Papa, if there’s any of the Wainwrights’ money left, telling me where it is might buy you, Noah, and Caleb some goodwill with the judge.” She swung her glance from her father to Noah—who was now thoughtfully studying her—before locking gazes with her father. “Please, Papa. It’s not too late to try to make amends. Do it for your children, if you won’t do it for yourself.”

“It won’t do any good, girl,” her father said, the deranged sheen fading briefly from his eyes. “You saw and heard Wainwright just now. He hates us and means to see Noah and me hang. Even if he got his money back, he’s not going to lift a finger to help us. He’s as hungry for revenge as his father and I ever were.”

Though Sarah wanted to refute his assertions, she couldn’t find the conviction to do so. She had seen and heard the fury, the thinly veiled threat in Cord’s voice and words just a few minutes ago. It was an aspect of him that she’d never before experienced, even in his times of greatest anger with her when he’d first captured her. This went far, far deeper, and felt ice cold and ruthless.

“It doesn’t matter what Cord does or doesn’t do on your behalf,” she whispered, her voice gone hoarse and raw. “What matters in the end, before God, is that
you
do the right thing. Do it, and then ask forgiveness. Of the Lord, the Wainwrights, and anyone else you may have offended. It’s the only way to finally make something good come of this miserable, endless, heart-wrenching feud.”

He stared at her for a long, long while. Finally he gave a sharp, strident laugh. The man she had once known disappeared, and the wild, fevered look flared anew in his eyes.

“They’ve been filling your head with all sorts of crazy notions, haven’t they, girl?” he asked, his voice taking on a high, strained pitch. “And turned you, once and for all, against your own kin.” He shrugged. “Well, it’s your choice, I guess. Whether you believe your own papa or some strangers. One thing’s for sure. Save the sermon for the Wainwrights. Not that it’ll do you any good. That man you think you want to marry? Well, take another look at him. Take a real good look. For all his fine manners and money, deep down where it matters, he’s no better a man than me.”