A Heart Divided (34 page)

“Hold on. Hold on,” she told herself, grinding her teeth against the pain.
And please, Lord
, she silently added,
please, don’t let Papa or Noah do anything foolish before I can get to them.

Not that she had any idea what she was going to do to prevent them from harming Cord, she thought, finally snapping the last few rope fibers on her now singed wrists and then applying the burning brand to her ankle bonds. That, however, was just what she intended on doing. Outside, Sarah could hear her father’s voice raised in anger, but he was now far enough from the cabin that she couldn’t make out what was being said. Not that it mattered what he thought or said anymore. All that mattered was her husband.

She finally kicked free of the burnt ropes about her feet, stood, and hurried to the door, flinging it wide. The scene that greeted her, as she had feared, filled her with horror. Cord stood there, unarmed, his hands at his sides, looking at her father, who had his rifle aimed at Cord’s heart. Beside her father, Noah eyed his sire uncertainly.

“Jesus, help me. Please, help me.” She whispered a frantic, fervent prayer, then headed resolutely toward the men.

Facing toward the shack, Cord was the first to see her. His eyes widened. He gave a quick, firm shake of his head.

He doesn’t want me in the middle of this
, Sarah realized.
He’s warning me to stay out of it.

The possible consequences to him, however, if she stayed out of it were life-threatening. She ignored him. Skirting her father and brother, Sarah made a beeline straight for her husband.

Too late, Noah and her father realized she’d gotten free. By the time they did, Sarah had already broken into a run to cover the last few yards. Once she reached Cord, she stepped in front of him, then wheeled around to face her father, who had just lowered his rifle.

“Get away from him, girl,” Jacob Caldwell snarled. “You’re not going to save him from what he’s got coming to him.”

“And exactly what does Cord have coming to him, Papa?” she demanded as she felt Cord’s hands settle on her arms. “He wasn’t even born when you lost the ranch. How is he to blame for any of this?”

“Sarah,” her husband softly said, leaning close, “it’s long past time anyone can reason with him. Let me handle this.”

She turned slightly to gaze up at him, and saw his intent burning hot and resolute in his eyes. Realization flashed through her. He wasn’t as unarmed and helpless as he made himself out to be. And he intended, if need be, to kill her father before her father killed him.

Is this how You intend for it to end, Lord?
she silently asked.
For either my father to kill my husband or for my husband to kill my father?

Mind-numbing despair swamped her. For a fleeting instant, Sarah was paralyzed with the sheer futility of it all. As if in a dream, she watched her father’s gaze narrow. Watched him lift his rifle again.
Does he mean to kill me then
, she wondered,
if I don’t move from in front of my husband?

“I’m not going to tell you again, girl,” he said, his voice rife with menace. “Get out of the way or—”

Cord pulled her forcibly back behind him. Suddenly, all Sarah wanted to do was hide her face and close her eyes against what she feared would come next.

“No more,” she moaned, cowering for a brief, blessed moment behind him. “Please . . . No more . . .”

“Or what, Caldwell?” Cord demanded as he shielded Sarah with his own body. “Are you so intent on murder these days that you’ll kill your own child?”

“Sh-she’s no child of mine if she chooses to betray her own father.” Jacob’s hold on the rifle wavered a bit. His breathing turned shallow and fast.

“You’re wrong if you think Sarah’s ever betrayed you. She’s always loved you. Always.”

As he spoke, Cord cast about for how to get her out of harm’s way. If Jacob fired on him, and he was forced to draw and discharge the pistol he had shoved in the back of his belt, Sarah could get caught in the crossfire. And if anything should happen to her . . .

With a fierce effort, he shoved that consideration aside. This wasn’t the time to get bogged down in emotion. He had to keep a clear head. He had to remain alert to any signal Caldwell might give indicating he was about to shoot him.

The way the old man was shaking now, Cord thought, eyeing him closely, it’d be a wonder if he could even manage to pull the trigger. He was so sick and weak, he could barely remain upright. But Jacob stood there nonetheless, struggling with all his remaining strength to salvage some shred of his pride, of his long-held, if futile and self-destructive dream.

A surprising compassion filled Cord. As wrong and misguided as Sarah’s father had always been, he wasn’t much different from any other man who’d lost what he’d deemed most important. True, Jacob had chosen poorly and, in the doing, had forfeited everything that really mattered in life. But hadn’t he himself almost done the very same thing? And hadn’t his own father, as well?

He exhaled a long, weary breath.
Help me, Lord. For Sarah’s sake, if not for my own, help me find some honorable way out of this. Help me finally bring some good from all these years of pain and suffering.

“She’s always loved you,” he softly reiterated. “Always wanted the best for you. And for her sake, and the sake of your two remaining sons, it’s time we end this feud. You’re my father-in-law now, and I love my wife. I won’t press charges against you or Noah if you just give this up. Now and forever.”

Caldwell’s face had gone ashen. He could barely hold up his rifle. “And give up the ranch. No, never!”

“Then don’t give it up.” Inspiration struck Cord. “Come back with us, you and Noah, and live on the ranch with us. In peace. As family.”

Behind him, he heard Sarah gasp. Her arms encircled his waist and she hugged him.

For a long moment, Jacob Caldwell stared at him in disbelief. Then he savagely shook his head.

“No. It’s a trick. A lie.” He lifted his rifle and pointed it at Cord. “You’re a liar and cheat, just like your father. And now you’re going to die, just like—”

With an agonized cry, Noah leaped toward his father, deflecting the rifle upward just as it fired. Sarah screamed. Cord lunged forward and reached Jacob just as he was leveling his rifle for another shot.

Cord grabbed the weapon and wrenched it away. Jacob charged at him. Noah recovered and grabbed his father by the arm, jerking him back. Jacob turned on his son, flailing wildly. Then, of a sudden, the old man sagged. His knees buckled and he plummeted to the snow-covered ground.

“Papa!” Sarah cried and ran toward him, joining her brother, who had immediately sunk down beside their father to gather him into his arms. “Papa, what’s wrong?”

Jacob turned his head toward her, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

She leaned forward, straining to hear what he was saying, but couldn’t. Was it possible? Was her father finally asking for forgiveness?

“Forgiveness isn’t so much about Pa as it is about you, Cord.”
Sarah suddenly heard Nick’s words to his brother in her mind.
“It’s not about feelings, but about freedom. It’s not about changing the other person—we might not ever succeed in doing that—but in letting go . . . and trusting that God will somehow make it all right.”

The words, spoken as Edmund Wainwright lay slowly dying, had been as appropriately uttered for her sake as for her husband’s. Whether or not her father truly
was
asking for forgiveness in the last few moments of his life wasn’t as important as her forgiveness of him. Wasn’t as important as her letting go and trusting that God would somehow make it all right.

“I love you, Papa,” she whispered, bending close until her lips hovered next to his ear. “Tell Mama hello when you get to heaven. Tell her I tried my best always to be there for you, to never give up hope that you’d finally find a new heart and turn back to God. Tell her that for me, will you, Papa?”

His eyes fluttered shut. He gave a long, deep sigh and went still.

“Papa!”

Cord knelt beside her and probed for a pulse in the man’s neck. There was none. He met her tear-bright, searching gaze.

“He’s gone, Sarah.”

Her head, like some flower wilting on its stem, sagged. She picked up her father’s now lifeless hand and gently kissed it.

“Oh, Papa. Papa . . .”

Two days later, they buried Jacob Caldwell in the little family cemetery high on a tree-shaded bluff overlooking the ranch. Buried him beside Caleb and his mother—whose remains they had exhumed from their separate burial spots—and not far from Edmund and Mary Wainwright’s graves. It was fitting, Cord had told her. Just as the Wainwrights and Caldwells had joined bloodlines when they had married, so the two families should now also share a common resting place. Just as the two families, in so many ways, now also finally shared the ranch.

Sarah’s love for her husband swelled as he’d spoken those words. Long after the others had left, preferring a warm house and tasty victuals to remaining in the chill, overcast winter weather, she and Cord had stood there gazing down at the graves. Finally, she turned to him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“We should be getting back to the house. Before everyone starts worrying about us.”

“Yes, I suppose we should.” He looked down at her, and she could tell he had been far away.

“A penny for your thoughts,” she said, patting his cheek with a mitten-clad hand.

He shrugged. “Oh, I was marveling at the fact it’s all over. The feud . . . the anger . . . the hatred and retribution. Reckon it’ll take some time to get used to it.”

“Reckon it will,” Sarah replied with a little smile. “But I think it’ll also become more and more pleasant—the realization, I mean—as time goes on. I think I’ll very much enjoy all the peace and lack of strife.”

She paused, her thoughts flitting to her older brother who, at Cord’s urging, had reluctantly accompanied them back to the ranch. “Noah. I’ve been meaning to ask you. What do you want to do about Noah?”

Cord reached up and tenderly brushed an errant strand of hair from her face. “I meant what I said. I won’t press charges against him. Besides, he gave us back what was left of the money. If he wants, he’s free to stay on here and help us with the ranch.” He grinned. “Who knows? Maybe I can train him up to be the new foreman. What with Spence now in jail, we can certainly use one.”

Sarah frowned in sudden remembrance. “Oh yes. Spence. In all the confusion after Papa died, and then the preparations for the funeral, I forgot to pass on what he’d told me about the plot to rustle the cattle. And, believe it or not, it was never my father behind it all. At first it was Spence, and then later Allis once she got wind of what he was doing. It was her idea to involve my family in order to get back at me. Seems she just couldn’t let you go.”

His gaze darkened. “That doesn’t come as much of a surprise. Gabe and I were starting to have our suspicions about her. According to what he told me just before the funeral services for your father today, first thing when Gabe got to town after helping deliver the cattle back to the ranch and depositing Spence and his men in jail, he went calling on Allis. She’s now under house arrest. Just as soon as the circuit judge can get here, Miss Allis Findley will be standing trial with Spence and his cronies.”

Relief—and a certain satisfaction—flooded Sarah. Though she knew she shouldn’t wish the wretched woman ill, it was only fair that Allis Findley face the consequences of her self-serving and ultimately tragic schemes. She was as responsible for what had happened as the men—including her father and brothers—who had so willingly gone along with her plans. Complete forgiveness might be a time in coming for the unhappy woman, but Sarah knew she would do it for the Lord’s sake if not quite as soon for Allis’s.

“She caused a lot of heartache and pain. For the both of us.”

Cord nodded solemnly. “Yes, she did
.
But I think, she did the most damage to herself. And she’ll have the most to answer for, when and where it counts the most.” His mouth quirked. “That realization, I hate to admit, is about the only thing that has kept me from riding into town and wringing her arrogant little neck. Just to get back at her for all she did.”