A Heart Divided (19 page)

“This isn’t the time for tender farewells,” he said. “Especially with your brother’s fiancée. Or has she changed her mind about which brother she really wants now?”

“Actually, she has,” Cord said, releasing Sarah and heading over to join his father. “But that’s a story best discussed at some other time. First things first. Let’s go catch us some cattle thieves.”

Edmund’s brows lifted in surprise, then he nodded. “You’re right about that. First things first.”

He shoved his Stetson on his head and motioned toward the two saddled horses Spencer Womack had brought up for them. “Let’s go catch us some cattle thieves.”

In her mind’s eye, Sarah yet again watched them ride out into the night, her heart so full of conflicting emotions she didn’t know what to do. Watched them go, not knowing what to wish for, save that all would survive the night. And now, six hours later, she felt just as conflicted, just as terrified, as she had then.

Frustrated almost beyond bearing, she rose from the rocker and began to pace the room. At her agitated walking back and forth, Danny stirred, and she was forced to quit or risk waking him.

Maybe a cup of warm milk and honey might soothe my upset stomach
, she thought,
and help ease me to sleep. It’s worth a try.

Silently slipping from the bedroom, Sarah headed down the hall to the stairs. Just as she reached the first floor, the clock in the parlor chimed four in the morning.

It’ll be dawn in another few hours
, she thought.
Might as well forego the milk and just make a fresh pot of coffee. I’m not getting
any sleep
tonight, and that’s for sure.

As she neared the kitchen, surprisingly, light shone from beneath the door. Curious now, Sarah pushed open the door and walked in. There, at the kitchen table, was Nick.

At her entrance, he half turned in his wheelchair. “Have some coffee,” he said, holding up his mug. “I made a pot about an hour ago.”

“So you couldn’t sleep either,” she observed as she went to the cupboard and took down a clean mug.

“A lot happened tonight to keep a man awake. And I’ve always kept vigil anytime Pa headed out on some dirty business like this.”

Sarah poured herself a mug of coffee at the big, cast-iron cookstove then ambled over to the table. She took a seat, paused to add a couple of spoonfuls of sugar from the sugar bowl, then thoroughly stirred them in.

“So, what do you want to talk about first?” Nick finally asked. “You and Cord, or what might happen if it
is
your father who stole our cattle?”

She met his glance. “After he followed me from the dance, Cord proposed to me. So, you’re off the hook. No more pretend engagement.”

Nick reached over and laid a hand atop hers. “Believe me when I say, Angel, that I never saw our engagement as unpleasant or a burden. Still, I’m happy for the both of you.”

“I am too.” Sarah sighed. “I just feel so . . . so confused. Here I am, bit by bit tying my life and loyalty to your family and, in the doing, being forced bit by bit to sever my bonds with my own family. And it shouldn’t be that way. It just shouldn’t!”

“No, it shouldn’t.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then released it and leaned back in his wheelchair.

“They’ll never forgive me for this—Papa and my brothers. Marrying Cord, I mean.”

“Indeed, they might not.”

With both hands she grasped her mug of coffee, savoring its comforting warmth. Myriad thoughts assailed her, until her mind reeled with the jumble of emotions they elicited. Anger at the feud that had brought her to this impasse. Frustration at her father for his stubborn refusal to see anyone’s way but his own, and his unwillingness to accept compromise in any form. Pain at her family’s apparent desertion of her and Danny.

And then there was the memory of Cord, not all that many hours ago, admitting to his love for her and his desire that she become his wife. Just the passing recollection of him holding her in his arms, kissing her, filled Sarah with such sweet joy and oh, so much love! The feelings he stirred in her almost overshadowed all the others. Almost . . .

“Why does it have to be so hard?” she cried, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “It’s not fair, Nick. It’s just not fair!”

“No, life’s not always fair, is it? But remember what we talked about that first day we met? About putting an end to the feud? Maybe this is just part and parcel of God’s larger plan, you and Cord becoming man and wife. Maybe this next step, as hard as it’ll be for you, is what’s needed to finally begin the healing of both our families.”

Her mouth quirked. “So far, I’m not seeing how God’s had much of a hand in any of this.”

“That’s where faith has to come in. But if you believe, you’ll also accept the fact He can bring good even out of things that, at first glance, seem bad.” Nick grinned. “I mean, think about it. As bad as the act was, if you hadn’t helped out in the robbery, maybe you and Cord would’ve never met. And then he likely wouldn’t have recognized you that day you went to town, and caught you, and brought you back here. And if Gabe had happened to be in town that day, then you and Cord would’ve never had the chance to get to know each other better. And then if Danny hadn’t decided to try and rescue you . . .”

She exhaled a deep breath and held up her hand. “Okay, okay. I get the picture. A lot of things
did
eventually work out for the best, didn’t they? But even if this is all part of God’s bigger plan, He sure hasn’t had much of an impact on my father yet.”

“No, maybe He hasn’t, but the time away from your father has helped
you
see things about him—and your old life—a little more clearly, hasn’t it? That maybe you and Danny deserve something better than you’ve always had. And maybe, just maybe, God’s hand is in that as well.”

“But why Danny and me, and not the rest of my brothers? And even my papa? They all deserve better too.”

Nick shrugged. “Only the Lord knows, Angel. Maybe He chose to use you and Danny because, as the two youngest, you’re the least tainted by your father’s anger and need for revenge. Because you’re the most open to change. Because you’re the most open to forgiveness.”

They were true, Nick’s words. All of them. As hard as it was to admit, she and Danny had come to a crossroads in their lives, and a better path spread out now before them. But to turn her back on her father, on Caleb and Noah, and walk away from them . . .

“The Lord isn’t asking you to renounce your family, Angel,” Nick said just then, as if he were reading her mind. “He asks us all to honor our parents. But God also expects us to follow Him and not look back, to do what is right, no matter how painful the consequences. He asks us to love, not hate. To forgive, not hold grudges. To turn from the darkness to the true Light.”

As she listened to Nick, Sarah’s jumbled thoughts gradually righted themselves. Insight filled her. No matter what she had promised her mother, she could do nothing for her father unless he chose to change. Indeed, she was just as likely to sacrifice her own life and happiness—and that of her little brother’s—and still not get her father to give up his hopeless quest. In the doing, she’d also sacrifice Cord’s happiness.

“Ask yourself this, for I think the answer to it is the true will of God,” Nick said. “Ask yourself, where can I accomplish the most good? Not that doing the most good might not be the hardest thing of all to do. God never promises to make the road easy just because He asks some particular thing of you. On the contrary, oftentimes what He asks is the hardest road of all. But on what other road will you fulfill your life’s true mission and find the deepest, most lasting peace?”

Gazing over at him, Sarah couldn’t help but think the very same choice had once been offered to Nick. Surely he had wondered what possible value he had to offer others, paralyzed as he was. And surely, in those moments of greatest doubt, living had seemed the far more difficult thing to do than giving up, than dying. Yet where would any of them—and she especially—be without him and his gentle companionship and deep wisdom?

Of late, she’d also had some difficult choices to make. In many ways, the most straightforward path was to return home to her family. If she didn’t, at the very least, she’d live with guilt for a long time to come. It was far easier to resume the life she’d always known than to stay with the Wainwrights and strike out on an entirely new road. A new and sometimes frightening road, and one so very foreign from what she’d heretofore experienced.

But this road also held
such
promise. There’d be Cord, Emma, and Nick to walk beside her. Danny would have a much better life. Her own existence would be richer, full of opportunities she’d never had before.

There was also the hope that sooner or later Edmund Wainwright would accept her as his daughter and, with her and Danny’s help, maybe even reconcile with Cord. There was always the hope, until the day her father finally died, that he, too, might find acceptance and be glad that she had become a Wainwright.

Yes, this choice, leastwise in terms of her family, might cost her dearly. But maybe, just maybe, this was the way things were meant to be. And maybe, just maybe, this was what God wanted of her, this was where she could indeed do the most good.

The words from Psalm 119, beloved by her mother, filled her mind.
Sustain me, O God, as you have promised, and I shall live; do not disappoint me in my hope.

Hope . . . so much hope. But only if she had help. God’s help.

Sarah smiled, the certainty she was making the right, the best, decision filling her with peace.

“Where can I accomplish the most good?” she asked, repeating Nick’s question. “You know the answer to that as well as I do. First and foremost, it’s here, Nick. Here, with Danny, you and Cord, and Emma, Manuela, and Pedro. And even, I think—I hope—with your father.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying my very best to be there for my father and brothers too. They’re God’s children as much as the Wainwrights are. And I can’t help but always love them and wish the best for them.”

“I would never ask you to do otherwise. And neither would Cord.”

Cord
 . . .

The stark reality of why they were sitting here in this cozy, lamp-lit kitchen jerked Sarah back to the present moment.
Please, Lord, keep him safe this night
, she thought, her glance straying into the darkness just outside the kitchen window.
Please, keep him safe and bring him home to me.

Sunrise of that day came and went, and there was still no news or return of Cord and the rest of the posse who’d gone out after the cattle rustlers. Time passed with maddening slowness. To keep her mind from straying to all sorts of tragic scenarios, Sarah busied herself with as many chores as she could find.

She helped bake bread, pluck chickens for a big meal to feed the men upon their return, and then carted several crocks of apples up from the cellar for pies. She swept and dusted and polished until the rooms sparkled. She ironed sheets, pillowcases, towels, and countless men’s shirts.

And still the hours plodded by without Cord’s return. Finally, about midafternoon, exhausted from lack of sleep and all the self-imposed work, Sarah could bear the tension no longer. Her basket of eggs clutched in one hand, she finally burst into tears outside the chicken coop.

“Please, oh please, Lord,” she prayed in between shuddering sobs. “Nick said it’s part of Your plan that Cord and I be together. So I’m going to trust You to keep Cord safe. I love him, Lord. Please don’t let anything happen to him. Please!”

After a while, she cried herself out and felt a little better. Wiping away her tears, she made her way to the horse trough near the barn, put down the basket, and splashed some cool water on her swollen eyes and over warm cheeks. Though she felt refreshed, Sarah knew if she ran into Nick or Emma up at the house, they’d easily ascertain she’d been crying.

Deciding a walk was the best way to buy time and allow all signs of her weeping to subside, Sarah left the egg basket in a safe place and headed to the creek. There she climbed onto the large boulder overlooking the rushing waters and lay down on the sun-warmed rock. For a while, she just listened to the sounds of the creek skipping over and around the rocks, while overhead, sparrows chirped gaily as they hopped from branch to branch of the swaying aspens.

Every time a breeze kicked up, the now golden aspen leaves—what few there still were of them—would clatter brightly as they shimmied in the wind. The sun felt warm and comforting on her face. Sarah reveled in the familiar sensations. There wouldn’t be many more days left in the high country’s Indian summer. Today was the first of November. Winter wouldn’t be long in coming.

A winter, this year, spent in a warm, snug house. A house that wouldn’t let in every frigid wind that blew down from the mountains. A house that had fireplaces and woodstoves that kept you all nice and toasty for hours on end without constant work to stoke them. A house that had a hand pump in the kitchen where a person could get all the water she needed without having to brave the cold to fetch some from a frozen lake or stream. And a house whose larders were full, with no worry of going hungry no matter how long and hard the storms raged and the snow piled up outside.