A Journey of the Heart Collection (6 page)

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Authors: Colleen Coble

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BOOK: A Journey of the Heart Collection
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T
omorrow she would be Mrs. Ben Croftner. Sarah took a sip of tea and tried to drag her attention back to Myra Murphy's conversation, but her thoughts kept whirling around. The last few days had swept by in a daze, and now her future hurtled toward her at breathtaking speed. The lighthearted chatter of her friends around her, the brightly patterned quilt still attached to the quilting frame, the gifts heaped beside her should have brought her joy,
but she was numb to all feelings but dread. She didn't want to leave her home, her comfortable, predictable life. And how well did she really know Ben? What if her new life was so different she couldn't adjust?

Suddenly aware of a strange hush in the room, Sarah looked around at the other ladies. They all wore the same look of shock and disbelief. Sarah twisted around to face the door herself to see what could cause such consternation among her friends.

She blinked at the figure blocking the sunlight as his broad shoulders spanned the doorway. Her gaze traveled up the gaunt frame to the face staring back at her intently. She gasped and began to rise to her feet. Was she dreaming? She put a hand to her throat. Her legs felt too weak to support her.

“Sarah.”

The voice was so familiar, so beloved. She gasped, then took a step toward him and reached out a trembling hand.

Rand caught her hand. “Hello, Green Eyes.” His gaze was as warm as a caress.

Her knees couldn't support her, and she clutched his hand, so warm, so real. She had to be dreaming. Hesitantly she reached up to touch his square jawline.
She felt the rough stubble on his chin. “Rand, it can't be, but it is. You're alive!”

She buried her face against his chest and inhaled his beloved, familiar scent. If it was a dream, she wanted never to awaken. But this was no dream. The rough texture of his uniform under her cheek, the familiar spicy tang of his hair tonic, and most important, the touch of his hands on her waist were all real.

Through a fog, she heard Jacob ask everyone to leave them alone. As soon as the door shut behind them, Rand pulled her away from his chest and she stared up into his brown eyes.

“Where have you been? We thought you were dead!” she whispered, blinking back tears.

“I know you were told I was dead. I stopped home first and Jacob told me.” He pulled her back into his arms as if he couldn't bear to let her go.

She nestled against his chest again. This was where she belonged. How had she managed to go on breathing these past months? She sighed and lifted her head. “Tell me what happened.”

He explained all the events of the past months while Sarah took in every detail of his appearance. He
was too thin, but he looked grand in his blue uniform with the brass buttons gleaming and the cap perched on his dark hair. She shuddered as he described what he'd gone through in prison.

“I was so lost without you.”

He stiffened, then picked up her left hand. The engagement ring Ben had given her only days before sparkled in the afternoon sun streaming through the lace curtains. “What about this, Sarah?” He dropped her hand and took a step back. “The thought of you waiting here—loving me, I thought—was the only thing that kept me alive during those long months at Andersonville. The only thing that kept me sane. Now I find you here with another man's ring on your finger.”

“But, Rand, it's not what you think.” She suddenly realized how bad this had to look to him. She reached toward him and he opened his arms, his expression anguished.

He embraced her for only a moment, then pulled away again. “Sometimes I questioned why I was allowed to live when I saw all my friends die, but I knew it was because you were waiting on me. Depending on me to come back to you. Did our love mean so little to you?”
His voice went hoarse. “I don't know what to think, Sarah.”

“We-we thought you were dead,” she whispered. “Don't you understand?”

“All I understand is that you forgot me in only a few short months.”

“It's not like that. I'll break off the engagement immediately. You have to let me explain how it happened. I don't love him.”

He continued to stare at her with a dark sorrow in his eyes. “Your wonderful new fiancé knew all along I wasn't dead.”

She shook her head. “No, Rand, he told me—”

He began to pace, his limp becoming more prominent with every step. “He knew, Sarah. I gave him a letter to give to you. Did you get a letter?”

“No, but there must be some mistake. Ben cried when he told me about how he found your body—”

He wheeled around and shook his head. “He lied, Sarah.” His voice was soft as if he were trying to make a child understand.

“Bu-but Ben
saw
your body.” She felt idiotic repeating herself, but she couldn't seem to reconcile the two totally different stories.

“He was with the troops who liberated the prison, Sarah.”

“But we saw in the paper—”

“It was wrong and he knew it was wrong. And how do you explain the letter he neglected to give you? A letter I personally put in his hands.” Then he was in front of her, his hands warm on her shoulders. “You said you don't love him. Then why are you marrying him?”

“If I couldn't have you, at least I could make everyone else in my family happy. It seemed noble somehow. Papa wanted me settled before h-he dies. The doctor says he doesn't have long.” His breath, so familiar and dear, caressed her face. She reached up and touched the stubble on his face again. “Oh, Rand, this is all too much to take in. I'm sure Ben didn't know.”

But a dawning horror spread through her limbs. There were many dark layers to Ben, layers she hadn't wanted to poke into too deeply.

Rand's hands dropped away and he stepped back, his eyes hollow and desperate. “I can't believe you're defending him! I've written you and my folks many times while I was recuperating in Washington. You didn't get any of those letters either. And you know
why? Labe works at the post office!” He took off his army hat and raked a hand through his thick hair.

What a fool she'd been. How gullible she was. All that phony sympathy—and the details he'd offered to prove to her Rand was really dead. “But we didn't know!”

Rand took a deep breath. “I didn't expect to have to argue you into believing me. I didn't think you'd defend what he's done. I have to think about this, Sarah.” He gave her one last tortured glance before he turned toward to the door and stalked out.

“Rand!” she cried after his retreating figure. “Don't go. I do love you!” She ran after him, but he continued down the porch steps. “Wait. Please, wait.” She caught his arm, but he shrugged it off and swung up onto Ranger's back.

He gazed down at her, the muscles in his throat working. “Maybe we can talk again in a few days. I just can't right now.” He took a deep breath, then his jaw hardened. He shook his head slightly as though to clear it, dug his heels into the gelding's flank, and turned down the lane.

Jacob stepped from the porch where he'd been waiting and touched her shoulder. “Give him some
time, Sarah. It will be all right.” He went to his horse and swung into the saddle, then rode after his brother.

She stared after them in horror and disbelief. He had to listen to her—he just had to. She sank onto the porch step and buried her face in her hands. The ring Ben had given her just last week was a little too big, and it scratched her cheek where it had twisted toward her palm. The pain sharpened her senses, and everything was heightened. The color of the sky, the scent of autumn in the air. With Rand's reappearance, the numbness encasing her was gone, melted away.

Her senses vibrating, she stared at the ring on her finger. She wrenched it off and threw it as hard as she could toward the woods. She could see it winking in the sunlight as it arced up, then disappeared into the burnished canopy of leaves.

The buckboards and buggies were gone, and the house was quiet when she walked listlessly back inside. The ladies had all discreetly gone home, but the clutter left from the bridal shower was still strewn about the
parlor. Rachel had left to go pick up Wade in town. Sarah kicked aside a box and sat down.

She felt numb, drained. There had to be some way to make Rand see, but she was just too tired to find it right now. But at least he was alive. What a wonderful miracle. She curled up on the sofa, her knees drawn up to her chest. She was so very tired. When she woke up she'd think of some way to get through to Rand.

FIVE

R
and paused for a moment on a knoll overlooking the Campbell home sprawling below him. He had so many conflicting emotions. His love for Sarah told him to forgive her and understand the situation, but his overwhelming disappointment just wouldn't let him. Everything was so different than he'd expected. He'd always thought her love was the kind that came along only once in a lifetime. And to find out now that she'd promised to marry Ben while he lay near death was just too much to take in.

“Wait up,” Jake said from behind him.

Rand reined in his horse and waited for his brother. “I'm going to town.”

“To see Ben?”

“You got it.” He wheeled Ranger toward Wabash.

He was reasonably certain where Ben could be found too. Unless he'd changed a lot, he'd be at the back table at the Red Onion. Ben was certainly going to be surprised when Rand walked in. Or maybe not. Maybe he had read his letters before he destroyed them.

They rode silently toward town, the stillness broken only by the clopping of the horses' hooves and the croaking of the frogs along the riverbank. The fecund smell from the river wafted in on the breeze.

“You know where Ben lives?” Rand asked.

“He bought that fancy brick house on Main Street. You know the one Judge Jackson built?”

Rand lifted a brow and glanced at his brother. “How'd he ever afford a place like that?”

“Land speculation, mostly. And investments since he got back, I guess. He's pretty closemouthed about it. I'll show you. If he's not there, we'll head for the Red Onion.”

Rand followed his brother as they cantered up the
steep Wabash Street hill and turned down Main Street, dimly illuminated by gaslights. The house loomed over the street, its brick turrets and high peaks grander and more lavish than any of its neighbors.

The men approached the paneled walnut doors, and Rand pounded on the door with his fist, not bothering with the brass knocker. No one answered, and he pounded again.

“I don't think anyone is home,” Jacob said.

“We'll catch up with him at the tavern.” Rand spun his horse around and cantered for town.

Sarah awoke as the clock chimed, reminding her how late it was. She hurriedly threw more wood into the cookstove and sat at the table to snap green beans. Papa and Joel would be back from town anytime, and Wade, demanding supper, wouldn't be far behind with Rachel. There was a heavy cloud cover, and the smell of rain came through the open window. It was already dark, although it was barely six o'clock.

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