A pounding at the front door interrupted Cord’s calculations of December’s budget. With an irritated snarl, he shoved back his chair and headed to the entry foyer. With Nick, Sarah, and Emma gone, Manuela and Pedro on their day off, and Danny napping in his room, there was no one left to answer the door but him. Not that he didn’t have his hands full enough right now, trying to squeeze every penny he could from the already skeletal ranch funds.
With a less-than-welcoming attitude, he wrenched open the door. Gabe Cooper, accompanied by his deputy, stood there. Neither man wore a very happy expression.
For an instant, Cord’s heart did a flip-flop. Had something happened to Nick or the women? But that was ridiculous. Nick was armed and an excellent marksman.
Remembering his manners, he swung the door wide. “Come in. No sense standing in the cold, since I know you must have had a chilly ride out here.”
The two men stomped the snow off their boots and walked inside. Cord shut the door behind them.
“Care for a cup of coffee?”
Gabe and Sam exchanged a glance.
“Well, maybe a quick one,” the lawman said. “Then, we’ll need to be on our way.”
“So, what brings you to Castle Mountain Ranch on a Sunday, no less?” Cord asked a few moments later as he poured two steaming mugs of coffee and handed one to each man. “Just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by to warm up a bit?”
“Not exactly.” Gabe finished stirring sugar and cream into his coffee, then met Cord’s inquiring gaze. “We had a jailbreak last night. Though I find it hard to believe that younger Caldwell boy could’ve managed it all by himself, right now it appears that he did. He dynamited the back wall of the cell holding his father and brother.”
The sheriff looked to his deputy. “Sam was on duty that night, and did me proud. The Caldwells got away, but Sam thinks he wounded one of the sons pretty badly.”
The Caldwells . . . free once again . . .
For a long moment, Cord stood there slowly digesting the information and its implications. A sense of déjà vu engulfed him. The Caldwells free again . . . The cattle rustling likely to resume . . . And the ranch and its inhabitants once more in danger of their lives . . .
To add to it all, if the one Caldwell son who was wounded was to die . . . Well, there was no telling to what lengths Jacob Caldwell might go to avenge his death.
“Nick’s gone to town with Sarah and Emma for Sunday services,” Cord said of a sudden. “Usually I send several armed hands along with them, but I thought Jacob was locked up and it was safe . . .”
He shot Gabe and Sam a hard glance. “Finish up your coffee and meet me down at the barn. I’m going to saddle up.”
“I think we can escort Nick and the women home without—”
“No.” Cord shook his head. “You’ve got enough on your hands. I’ll take care of my family. In the meantime, you see to getting the Caldwells back behind bars—just as fast as you can!”
As soon as they were out of sight of Nick and Emma, Noah reined in his horse. He dug in his pocket and extracted a long piece of cloth.
“Here.” He handed it back to Sarah. “Cover your eyes with this. Pa made me promise to make sure you didn’t figure out the way to our hideout. Didn’t want to take any chances you’d tell the Wainwrights where we’re at, I reckon.”
Sarah took the cloth, wrapped it around her head several times, then knotted it firmly. “That suits me fine too. I don’t want to be put in the middle of having to lie or have my loyalty to Cord questioned. You’ve got to promise me one thing, though.”
“What’s that, little sister?”
“That you’ll bring me back when I ask you, no matter what Papa wants.” She slid her hands tightly around his waist again. “My primary concern has to be for Danny now, and I won’t leave him.”
“You could always find some way to sneak him back home,” her brother said as he urged his horse forward again. “You’d just have to say the word, and I’d be there to get both of you.”
She hesitated, wondering how to word what she was next to say without angering him. Whether things ultimately worked out between her and Cord, Sarah was determined never to return to her old life. To remain near her father a minute longer than necessary these days was to risk being sickened by the poison of his vengefulness. Maybe she’d already absorbed more of that venom than was healthy, but she’d at least not expose her little brother to any more of it.
“If it was just you and Caleb . . .” She sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter. What matters is I don’t see eye to eye with Papa anymore. And I won’t have Danny near him.”
“That’s pretty harsh, Sarah. Speaking of Pa that way.”
“I know.” She sighed and laid her head against her brother’s back. “I know, but look what he’s done, Noah. And now . . . now Caleb may be dying because of Papa’s all-consuming need for revenge. He frightens me. Scares me down to the depths of my soul.”
“Then why are you coming back with me?”
“It’s for Caleb.” Sarah shivered. “That day I visited you and Papa in jail . . . well, it was like I didn’t know Papa anymore. I felt like I was looking into the eyes of a stranger, and that stranger wasn’t any friend of mine.”
“So, now you hate him, do you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I know he’s still my papa, and I’ll always love him. I pray for him all the time too, and keep hoping that somehow, some day, he’ll finally open his eyes to the terrible things he has wrought. Yet even now that Edmund Wainwright’s dead, has he changed or lessened his need to continue on until he’s destroyed everything? Has he, Noah?”
“He’s our father, Sarah. It’s not our place to judge him.”
“Maybe not, but I’m not following in his footsteps anymore either. The Lord gave me the ability to see right and wrong, and to choose which path to take. And I don’t think He wants me to follow Papa’s lead.”
“So where does that leave me and Caleb?” her brother snarled. Beneath her hands, she could feel his body go taut. “Are we just as blind and foolish as you now seem to think Pa is? Or maybe the Wainwrights have filled your head with all sorts of highfalutin ideas, and now you’re too good for us?”
Frustration filled her. “It’s not that at all. What’s changed is that I started thinking again about what Mama taught us of God, and the right and wrong of things. And God doesn’t take kindly to holding grudges or not letting go of anger. You know that as well as I, Noah. Mama didn’t just read the Bible to me. She read it to all of her children.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got the luxury of turning the other cheek and forgiving the Wainwrights,” Noah muttered, bitterness now threading his voice. “But someone’s got to stay with Pa. He’s getting real sick, and I don’t think he’s got a lot of time left. It’s his heart, you know.”
“He looked really bad, that day at the jail.” Tears stung Sarah’s eyes. “And I’m glad you’re with him. Just don’t let him do anything else, Noah. Let it finally stop, so whatever time he has left can be lived in peace. I just want him to die in peace, not still mired in all that anger and hatred.”
“I’ll try, Sarah. But I’m not making any promises.”
With that, he kicked his horse into a lope. Sarah hung on, knowing the time for talk was over. From the change in the angle of the horse’s body, she could tell they had reached level ground. For about the next fifteen minutes, they traveled at a rapid pace before Noah slowed the animal again and they once more began to climb.
As time passed, the periodic change in elevation happened over and over until Sarah gave up trying to figure out where they were. The snow finally began to fall, and the wind picked up. She was grateful she’d dressed warmly. Her fingers grew numb and her feet started to tingle. More and more often, she had to flex her limbs to keep the blood flowing.
“How much longer?” she finally asked. “If we’re not going to make it before dark, maybe we need to find a place to stay for t
he night and get a fire going.”
“We’re almost there,” her brother replied. “I can see the firelight from the cabin now. Hang on, little sister. Just a few more minutes.”
Blessedly, it was indeed just another ten minutes, and Noah halted his horse. He helped her slide down, then dismounted himself.
“Here,” he then said, his hands going to the knot of the cloth still covering her eyes. “You can take that off now.”
Sarah blinked in the dimming light, allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust. Then she turned toward the rickety old miner’s cabin and hurried up the steps.
At the sound of the door opening, her father glanced up from his chair set beside the only bed in the room. Momentarily, his gaze warmed, then he quickly shuttered his joy beneath a mask of indifference.
“So, you came, girl. You surprised me. I didn’t think you would.”
“I came because Caleb asked for me.” She shed her gloves and unbuttoned her coat as she hurried over to the bed. As she did, her father rose and pulled back his chair.
Caleb lay there, so white and still Sarah feared she had arrived too late. She knelt beside him, took a pale hand in hers.
“Caleb? It’s Sarah,” she whispered, her throat going tight. “Noah said you wanted to see me.”
Sandy lashes fluttered against his cheeks. Ever so slowly her brother opened his eyes. They had a faraway look, and it appeared to require a great effort for him to focus. When he did, however, a tired smile lifted one corner of his mouth.
“S-Sarah? You came . . .”
He tried to lever himself to one elbow, and failed. It was all he could do just to weakly squeeze her hand.
“I’m . . . I’m done for, Sarah,” he said, his voice barely audible. “But you came . . . in time.”
“Hush. Save your strength.” She laid a finger to his lips. “Time enough later to talk.”
“No time left.” Caleb shook his head. “Forgive.”
She frowned. “Forgive? Forgive what, Caleb?”
“That day . . . I called you . . . a tramp.” He sighed, closed his eyes for a long moment, then finally opened them. “I didn’t . . . mean it. I was just . . . just mad. And confused.”
“Oh, Caleb!” She took his hand and lifted it to her lips. “I knew that. We’ve all been mad and confused for a long while now. But I never, ever doubted that you still loved me. As I’ve always loved you.”
“G-good. Didn’t want that . . . on my conscience . . . when I face my Maker.”
“Have no fear, big brother. When that time comes, the Lord is going to welcome you with open arms.”
He frowned. “I . . . don’t know about that. I’ve done some bad things . . .”
“Then tell Jesus how sorry you are for them,” she urged, her eyes filling with tears. “That’s all He asks.”
His lips curved in a soft, beatific smile. “It’s that . . . easy . . . is it?”
“He has already paid the full price for our sins, Caleb. You just need to repent of them. Repent of them with all your heart.”
Caleb closed his eyes, and Sarah could see his lips silently moving. She lowered her head, offering up her own prayers, entreating the Lord to spare her brother’s life if it was His will, and if not, to carry him gently and painlessly up to heaven. Prayed with all her heart and felt, after a time, a great peace fill her.
A great peace and overflowing joy the like of which she’d never felt before flowed over her. Yet, as much as it filled and uplifted her, Sarah knew that it was a vicarious experience. That it was really her brother’s emotions touching her. Emotions he was feeling as his soul was lifted from his now lifeless body to rise heavenward.
“Caleb!” her father wailed at that very instant. “Caleb!”
Sarah opened her eyes and looked up. All the pain and suffering that had twisted her brother’s features had vanished. In its place was a look of ineffable peace.
Sadness swamped her. She would miss her childhood friend and sibling. Miss him deeply and for a long, long time to come.
But she was also relieved, and even a tiny bit envious. Caleb at least was finally free of all the pain and worry. All the unpleasant tension of living with and trying to please a parent who refused ever to be happy or satisfied. There was no more unrequited hunger for vengeance and destruction in Caleb’s life anymore. His way was clear now, his goal obvious.
Not so for her, though. And maybe never.
Sarah covered her face and wept.
Two days later, once darkness had settled over the land, Noah halted his horse behind the Wainwright ranch barn. From her vantage behind her brother, Sarah could see the main house, its windows glowing warmly in the blackness. Gazing at the big, wood frame dwelling, she felt a bittersweet emotion fill her.
It was now the only real home she had. Still, though it held the people she’d committed her life and love to, Sarah wasn’t sure she belonged there anymore. But then, she wasn’t sure where she belonged anymore.
“Time to get down and head on over to the house,” her brother said. “Even as dark and cold as it is tonight, I can’t risk someone venturing from the bunkhouse or barn and catching me here. If the Wainwrights had anything to say about it, I’m likely wanted dead or alive by now.”
Sarah sighed and laid her head against him, clinging tightly to his waist. Just one more minute. Just one more minute with you, because it might have to last me a lifetime.
“Where will you go for the night?” she asked finally. “It’s too late to make it back to the hideout, and I don’t want you riding up into those mountains in the dark.”
Noah chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve still got a few friends who’ll put me up. And some live closer than you might think.”
“Good.”
She loosened her grip about his waist and slid from the horse. She didn’t, however, step away.
“Take care of yourself, and Pa, will you? And no more rustling, okay?”
“We’ve still got enough money left for a while. But after that, a man’s got to live. Once Pa goes, though . . . well, I’m thinking I’ll head west and see if I can start over.”
“If you do, will you let me know somehow?”
There was no point in asking Noah to come for her when their father was dying. He couldn’t be in two places at once, and it was best he be there for their father in his final hours. Whenever that time came . . .
“I’ll try to get word to you somehow.” A sad smile on his lips, Noah leaned down to tug at a lock of her hair. It had always been his way of showing affection. At the memory, Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. “No promises, though. It just might not be safe to do so.”
“Oh, N-Noah,” she whispered. “I just . . . I just don’t want to part like this. Like we might never see each other again!”
“Neither do I, but it’s the way things have turned out. And you’re a woman now, soon to be a wife. Things would’ve changed between us when that happened anyway. Your own family would have to take precedence—your husband and, eventually, your children. You know that as well as I.”
“Yes, I know, but I also thought we’d live near each other and would be able to visit, share holiday celebrations, special times . . .”
“At least you’ve got Danny. He’ll be with you for a long while to come.”
And you’ll soon have no one, Sarah thought, then quickly shoved that painful realization from her mind. She and Noah had both made their choices and must now abide by them.
“I’ll take good care of Danny. I promise.”
Her brother straightened in his saddle and gathered his reins. “I know you will. Just like you’ve tried to take care of all of us.”
She gave an unsteady laugh. “And a whole lot of good I was at it too.”
“You can’t live our lives for us, Sarah. You can only live your own. And that, I think, is more than enough for anyone.”
With that, Noah turned his horse, whispered an “I love you, little sister,” then headed off
into the night.
Sarah watched him until he disappeared from view, a dark, solitary figure against the frozen backdrop of snow. Tears streamed down her cheeks. In but the span of a few days, she had lost two brothers, if in entirely different ways. And her father, well, as hard an admission as it was, she had lost him a long, long time ago.
“You can’t live our lives for us, Sarah . . .”
When had she taken on that task, and why? Had she imagined it was what her dying mother had been asking when she’d requested that Sarah take care of her father and brothers? Or had it, instead, been nothing more than an excuse not to follow her own dreams and risk them failing? Whatever the motives, they’d all made choices—many of them poor ones, and many for the wrong reasons.
Turning, Sarah strode out around the barn and toward the house. It was past time to begin anew, to choose differently and more wisely. For her sake. For the sake of her brother.
She just wasn’t sure anymore what those choices should be.
16
Cord both yearned for and dreaded Sarah’s return. Yearned for it because he loved her and, as time passed, realized evermore how much he needed her. But also dreaded that she might return only to retrieve Danny, then make her way back to her father and brothers. If her one brother still even lived.
And if he didn’t . . .
What would Sarah’s response to that death be? What would her response to him be?
Maybe, though, she should be just as concerned about how he felt over her little outing into the mountains. There was no telling what her crazy father would do to her, especially if his son died. Cord’s greatest fear was Jacob Caldwell taking out his pain-clouded revenge on his daughter, a daughter he was now convinced had betrayed him.
Fear, however, was but one of the chaotic emotions that assaulted him whenever he thought of Sarah’s departure. He was equally as angry at her. How could she do something so rash, so ill-advised, at a time like this? If word got out, she could be put up on charges of aiding and abetting outlaws. Why was she so determined to risk everything, when nothing she could do would alter the tragic, downward spiral the Caldwell men had put themselves in?
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