A Journey of the Heart Collection (18 page)

She looked around for a weapon, but nothing was in sight.

“Where is she?” he shouted.

Sarah bit her lip and said nothing. The doorknob began to turn, and she caught her breath as the door opened. Cold air rushed into the parlor, then Ben burst inside.

Sarah took a step back. “Get out of here, Ben. How dare you show your face here after what you did to Morning Song?”

His face reddened. “She is my property. No one complains if I discipline my horse, now do they? This is none of your business.” He strode across the floor and caught her by the arms before she could even flinch away. He took her chin and tilted her head up as she struggled to get away. “I like it when you fight me,” he whispered.

She stopped her struggling instantly, and he laughed again before releasing her. “Run away, little rabbit. But you won't escape me. I have plans for you.”

Her pulse jumped in her throat. He was terrifying.

He leered at her, then stomped back out the door. “I'll find her, Sarah. She'll wish she'd stayed where she belonged. And you'll wish you'd stayed out of it.”

Sarah let out a shaky breath as the door banged behind him. How had she ever thought he was attractive and kind? She shuddered. The door burst open again, and she flinched. But it was Rand.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded, close to tears. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was afraid of Ben. He was truly mad. “He's l-looking for Morning Song,” she stammered, then burst into tears.

Rand crossed the room in one stride and pulled her into his arms. “It's all right, Green Eyes. We won't let him take her.” He caressed her hair until the storm of weeping was past.

“I'm sorry,” she gulped. “I don't know what came over me.” She was very aware of his hand on her hair. That hand tightened on the back of her neck when she looked up.

Rand swallowed hard when she put a hand on his cheek. She searched his face and saw confusion mixed with a tenderness she'd hoped to find for weeks. “Rand,” she began. But the door opened and Amelia rushed in. She'd heard the story at Suds Row.

Rand stepped away quickly, and the moment was lost. Again.

ONE

E
ARLY
M
ARCH
1866

T
he morning sun glinted on the patches of remaining snow as Sarah Montgomery hurried along to the Sioux encampment. Soldiers practiced in the big parade ground lined by fort buildings, and the sound of bugles pierced the cold air.

She rounded the last building and stopped in her tracks. An exodus of the Indian encampment was in full swing. Horses pulling travois of dismantled teepees
and belongings packed the road north. She searched the throng for her friend Morning Song. There she was on a big buckskin. Sarah waved and called her name.

Morning Song slid from the horse's back and met her at the end of the procession. She was fully recovered from the beating she'd taken from the hands of her so-called “husband” in November.

Sarah hugged her. “What's happening? Where are your people going?”

“We go to meet up with Big Ribs. The elders were all too ready to talk of war after what Ben did.” There was no lilt, no joy in Morning Song's voice. “I cannot stay here. Ben will find me if I remain.”

The wind blew across the parade grounds, and Sarah shivered. “But you're safe here. The soldiers will protect you now.”

Morning Song released her and stepped back. “I must go with my people. Thank you for all you have done for me, Sarah. I will never forget you.”

A lump formed in Sarah's throat. “That sounds like good-bye.”

“I hope to see you again, my friend, but . . .” Morning Song looked down. “I fear our people will be at war soon.”

“We will always be friends, Morning Song.”

The young woman nodded. “My mother waits. I must go.” She hugged Sarah again, then pulled herself up onto the horse's bare back and rode to join the line of moving horses.

Sarah watched them go with a profound sense of sadness. At least Morning Song was out of Ben's clutches. When she came back, perhaps her spirit would have healed from his abuse.

When Sarah turned, she nearly ran into Rand Campbell. His big hands came down on her shoulders to steady her, and she looked up into his handsome face. A muscle twitched in his square jaw, and there was no sign of his dimples. She found it hard to read him these days.

She stepped away. “Sorry I nearly ran you down.”

His arms fell to his sides. “A tiny thing like you couldn't knock me down. Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I'm sad to see her go, but at least Ben won't be able to touch her.” With a parting smile, she turned toward the quarters she shared with Jacob and Amelia.

The impermanence of her situation gnawed at her. Isaac Liddle seemed to care about her and her
little brother Joel, and she suspected he would propose soon. Even though she craved a place of her own, there seemed no real haven for her. She still couldn't contemplate a future without Rand in it, but she had to figure it out. He was going to marry Jessica, and she had to accept it.

Snow flurries skated across the landscape as Ben Croftner crossed Fort Laramie's parade ground and stomped toward the Sioux encampment. The wind poked icy fingers through his thick coat and tried to tear the hat from his head, but he barely noticed the glowering clouds overhead. He had more important things to do this morning than worry about the weather.

Just let those savages try to stop him from taking Morning Song. His fingers curled into his palms with the desire to smash a face or two. Although the face he really wanted to destroy was Lieutenant Rand Campbell's. As he walked in front of the officers' quarters, someone called his name. He turned to see a red-haired woman waving to him. Her pale skin was flawless, and her full lips turned up in an alluring smile.

Her lashes fluttered in a come-hither way. “Mr. Croftner.”

She certainly was beautiful, if you liked the type. Cool and remote. He stopped at the steps and smiled at her. “At your service. I believe I've heard of you. You are Miss Jessica DuBois, correct?”

“I am. Won't you come in, Mr. Croftner? I think we have something in common.”

He allowed his gaze to sweep over her until she flushed. “And what would that something be?”

She lifted her chin and her smile evaporated. “We both want to keep Sarah Montgomery away from Rand Campbell.” She took a step back toward the door. “Won't you join me for some tea?”

Morning Song could wait. He followed her inside to a large parlor with a soft flowered carpet on the wood floor. Delicate tables flanked a horsehair sofa and three chairs completed the furnishings. Garden pictures and gold sconces adorned two walls while the fireplace dominated the third. The dining room was through an arched doorway.

A young, attractive black woman hovered in the doorway, and Jessica glanced at her. “Bring us some tea, please, Rose.”

Rose nodded and walked out of his sight.

Jessica indicated one of the chairs. “Have a seat, Mr. Croftner.” When he shrugged out of his coat and sank into the comfortable chair, she settled on the sofa and arranged the folds of her green dress. “I have a plan.”

As she explained her plan, he began to smile. It was superior in every way to his own. Sarah would learn his vengeance was terrible.

He crossed his legs. “Tell me more.”

Rand paused with his group at the North Platte River Bridge. He could see miles in all directions across the plains so it should be safe for the night. He waved to his brother Jacob. “We'll spend the night here so we're ready to restring wire for the telegraph in the morning.”

Jacob nodded and dismounted. He was shorter than Rand and stockier, with dark-brown hair and eyes, but no one was able to miss the clear resemblance between them. He ordered the soldiers to set up camp. Rand pulled the saddle off Ranger and broke some of the ice in the river so the horses could drink. He heard
a shout and looked up to see a group of fifteen Sioux, faces painted, charging across the river toward them with shrill war cries.

Rand dove for his rifle. He lined the sight of the Henry up to his eye and trained it on a young warrior. Rand's finger paused on the trigger as he saw the youth's face. He was probably only fifteen, although he looked like he'd seen battle before—he had a livid scar running down one cheek. The boy stared at him defiantly as Rand put pressure on the gun's trigger.

Rand shook his head and lowered his rifle long enough for the boy to lift his spear in his hand and wheel around with a bloodcurdling yell.

“That there was a mighty big mistake, young feller.” Rooster had seen the exchange. “You'll likely run into him again, and he won't be so charitable-like.”

Rooster was probably right. But the warrior had reminded him of his youngest brother, Shane. The same careless free spirit. Rand just couldn't kill him.

The weather turned frigid and stayed that way. Days went by with no relief. Finally, the colonel announced
a party at Old Bedlam. Rand tried to keep his distance from Sarah, but his gut tightened every time she swept by in Isaac Liddle's arms with her heart-shaped face turned up to his admiring glance. It was ridiculous to care that his friend was courting her, but Rand couldn't help the stab of jealousy that pierced his chest when he realized she'd likely marry Isaac.