A Journey of the Heart Collection (13 page)

Ben followed him into the parlor where a crackling fire radiated warmth into the room. He held
his hands at the blaze before turning to face Wade. “You let this happen. You said she'd do what you told her.”

Wade dropped onto the horsehair sofa. “This is not my fault. You were the one who lied to her. She puts a lot of stock in honesty.”

A thin cry echoed from upstairs. “That your kid?”

Wade nodded. “A boy. Sarah never even stayed to make sure Rachel delivered. I'm washing my hands of her. She can have whatever wretched life she wants with Campbell.”

Ben could imagine the tender scene, and hatred soured his belly. “He won't keep her. A woman like Sarah needs a firm hand.”

“She's always been besotted with him. I should have known it was a losing battle.”

“I never lose.” Ben shoved his hands in his pockets. “I'm going after her.”

A plan began to form. He had connections in Washington, and while he'd never thought to go West, there were many opportunities for a clever man to become rich off the Indian Wars.

Rand was already awake when reveille sounded at five. Jacob and Joel were sleepily pulling on their overalls and boots when he strode into the bunk room to check on them. “Hurry up or you'll miss the cold slop we call breakfast.”

“How's the Indian situation?” Jacob poured icy water out of a battered tin pitcher into a chipped bowl and splashed his eyes, bleary from lack of sleep.

A group of soldiers had been up playing cards all night, and their loud talk and laughter had made sleep difficult, especially with Sarah's words still running through Rand's head. Most of them had already cleared out of the long room lined with bunks, but the odor of hair tonic and dirty socks still lingered.

Rand handed his brother the cleanest towel he could find. “Bad. And likely to get worse. The Bureau of Indian Affairs has really botched things. Every agent they've sent sets out to line his pockets with what belongs to the Indians. Once one gets rich enough, he goes back east and another comes to start the same process all over again.” Rand shook his head. “And it's really explosive up in the Powder River area. Quite a few miners have been killed trying to get to the gold fields.”

“Much hostility around here?”

“Not really. A few skirmishes. There's mostly tame Oglala Sioux and friendly Brulé. Most of the wild Oglala are with Red Cloud at Powder River.”

“The girls will be relieved to hear that.”

“I was just about to check on them.” Rand paused.

The smell of impending snow freshened the air and the wind stung their cheeks as they hurried across the parade ground toward the light spilling out the front window of the house. It looked warm and welcoming in the somber darkness of the predawn morning. Their breath made frosty plumes in the air, and their boots crunched against the frozen ground as they waved and called morning greetings to the soldiers heading toward the mess hall, most of them shrouded in buffalo robes against the cold. The trumpet's call to breakfast carried clearly in the clear air.

Sarah's heart was heavy as she dropped her dress over her bustle. The pagoda sleeves were quite fashionable, and at least she could hold her head up in Jessica's presence. She added a tatted collar and her favorite brooch, a rose filigree Rand had given
her, then took her hairpins and went to find Amelia in the kitchen.

Rand and Jacob should be here anytime, and she wanted a moment with him. She wasn't sure what she should do. She couldn't go back home. The journey had been so arduous, she couldn't bear to think of making it again. And besides, she refused to be under Wade's thumb again. Having been his virtual prisoner had soured her against him.

She turned as she heard the men thump up the porch steps and ran to unlock the door. “Good morning.” Her gaze went to Rand.

He didn't look at her. “Breakfast will be over if you two don't hurry up.”

“We're almost ready. Let me finish my hair. Jacob, why don't you take Amelia and Joel and go on ahead?” Sarah's words were mumbled through a mouthful of hairpins, and she began to wind her braids up at the base of her head. With an understanding glance, Amelia adjusted her bonnet, then drew on her navy cape and followed Jacob and Joel out the door.

Sarah finished her hair with a few quick thrusts of well-placed hairpins, then looked up at Rand. “Is my being here going to be a problem for you?”

He looked away and swallowed hard. “Of course not. We'll always be friends.”

She'd thought they were so much more. “I don't want to cause you any trouble.”

He shrugged. “You can stay here with Jacob and Amelia. And if you want one, you won't have any trouble finding a beau. It's so rare for the men to see any unattached women—you'll probably have a dozen proposals before the week is over.”

Stung by his words, Sarah tossed her head back. “I don't give my affections as easily as some.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes before his expression grew guarded. “Jacob said he'd probably be sent to one of the northern forts come late spring or early summer, so I reckon we can be civil to one another for a few months.”

He picked up her cloak from the foot of the bed and held it out to her courteously. She let its warmth enfold her before swishing away from him without another word. The wind struck her as she stepped onto the porch, and as she staggered, Rand caught her arm and steadied her. She was very conscious of his strong, warm fingers pressing against her arm through her cape.

His brown eyes were impersonal as he gazed down
on her. “The wind is ferocious out here. Watch your step.” He led her across the parade ground toward the mess hall, the soft glow of lamplight shining out its windows and a lazy curl of smoke rising from its chimney.

With an effort, Sarah controlled her hurt and anger. She forced a smile and laid a hand on his arm before stepping into the mess hall.

It was a big open room filled with long wooden tables that seated eight to ten men. The tables closest to the stove in the center of the room were all filled.

“Rand!” Jessica, clad in a green dress, was seated across the table from Jacob, Amelia, and Joel at the table closest to the stove. She waved to them.

The other woman's shining red hair was elegantly piled high on her head, and her pale complexion was flawless. Her mother had the same cool loveliness. Sarah wanted to like her, wanted to believe Rand had made a good choice.

She smiled at her. “Good morning, Miss DuBois. You look lovely this morning. I like your dress.”

Jessica smiled and the hostility in her eyes faded. “I hope you rested well, Miss Montgomery.”

“I did, yes. And please, call me Sarah.”

Jessica nodded, then looked up to Rand. “Don't
forget the new play at Bedlam is tonight. You did say you'd pick me up at seven, right?”

Rand nodded, and Sarah clenched her fists in the folds of her skirt until she could breathe past the pain.

“You must come, Miss Montgomery. You and your friends.” Mrs. DuBois fluttered her plump, white hands. “My husband has the lead role, and you'll be able to meet all the officers.”

“Please call me Sarah,” she said automatically, her gaze on Rand and Jessica.

“It will be so pleasant to have other ladies at the fort.” Letty shuddered delicately. “One gets so lonesome for the refined company of other women in this primitive place. Perhaps we can get together for tea tomorrow?”

Sarah forced herself to smile and accept Letty's invitation as she strained to listen to Jessica's monopoly of Rand's conversation. Obviously, he had spent considerable time with this woman and enjoyed her company. Did Rand really love her? Sarah swallowed hard. She'd accept whatever she had to.

The breakfast lasted an interminable amount of time as they ate the nearly cold flapjacks and grits and washed it all down with strong, hot coffee. Nearly every officer in the place found some excuse to stop at
their table for an introduction. Jacob glowered at the attention Amelia received, but Rand just looked on impassively as the younger officers flirted with Sarah and paid her extravagant compliments.

After breakfast the quartermaster gave them rough woolen blankets, a couple of crude wooden beds with straw mattresses, and a water bucket. Amelia had brought a trunk packed with kitchen utensils and plates as well as some bright calico and gingham material, several sets of muslin sheets, and some quilts she'd made over the years.

“You're so well prepared,” Sarah said. “Look at my meager belongings. I have to throw myself on your mercy.”

Amelia smiled. “I've been preparing for this for a year. Anything I own is yours, and you know it.”

As they carried their booty back to their quarters, Sarah was able to take a good look at their new home. Darkness had fallen so quickly last night, she hadn't really noticed much about it. A front porch ran the width of the house with wide front steps. Two doors opened off the unpainted porch.

Rand opened the main door, and they stepped inside the wide, bare entry hall. The first door led to the tiny sitting room that looked out on the front porch.
Sarah stood gazing around with her hands on her hips. There were definite possibilities. She walked through the narrow door in the small kitchen and surveyed the Sibley stove in the middle of the tiny room. There was just enough space in the corner for a small table. Hooks could be hung from the low roof for pots, and a small corner cupboard could be built in the adjoining parlor.

She turned to catch an expression of dismay on her friend's face. “What do you think, Amelia?”

Amelia brushed a stray wisp of dark hair out of her eyes. “I don't know where to begin. You take charge, Sarah. You're so much better at decisions than I am.”

By midafternoon the tiny rooms had been scrubbed, Jacob had tacked the wool blankets to the floor in the sitting room and bedroom, fires blazed in all three fireplaces, and the beds were set up and ready for occupancy. Sarah and Amelia each had a lapful of material as they stitched curtains for the windows and cloths to cover the crates that would suffice as tables. Sarah could hear the thunk of axes behind the house where Joel and Jacob were chopping more wood. Isaac had told them to let the wood detail bring them more logs, but Jacob insisted he needed the exercise after the cramped stagecoach journey.

She glanced around the room in satisfaction as she sewed. They could write and ask Rachel to send a rug for the sitting room. With a few trinkets and pictures, it would be quite homey. At least it was beginning to feel like home.

FIVE

T
he bustling of the fort awakening for a new day surrounded the small quarters. Sarah yawned and slipped out of bed to peek out the window, wincing as her feet hit the icy floor. The sun glowed as it began to peek out of the eastern hills. The wind still whistled through the eaves, but the snow had stopped.

Her sense of anticipation faded when she remembered today's plans. She and Amelia had promised Mrs. DuBois they'd come to lunch at eleven. The last thing she wanted was to hear details about the
wedding. And Jessica was cruel enough to delight in seeing if she could make Sarah squirm. She pressed her lips together and turned to survey her wardrobe. She'd be cool and calm. No matter what Jessica said or how much it hurt, she wouldn't let her see her pain.