Where Leads the Heart

by Colleen Coble

  “Labe works in the post office,” Shane said in a small voice. “But he’s really nice. He wouldn’t do anything like that.”

  His announcement silenced everyone. Finally Hannah spoke up in a soft, hesitant voice. “Surely Labe wouldn’t tamper with the mail.” But her tone indicated her own doubt.

  “What other explanation is there, Sis?” Jacob jumped up angrily, his fists clenched.

  Rand got purposely to his feet. “I’m going to see Sarah,” he announced. “Then I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

  Margaret held out a placating hand. “Let it go for now, Son. Try to get a handle on your anger before you talk to Ben.”

  Rand shook off her hand. “Let it go! After all I’ve been through, you want me to let it go? Ben needs to find out he can’t treat a Campbell like that.”

  Margaret touched her son’s cheek gently. “The war has changed you, Rand.” She paused, searching for the right words. “You seem so harsh and headstrong. You’ve always been the even-tempered, rational one in the family.”

  Rand raked a weary hand through his thick hair. “What do you expect, Ma? For me to just forget how Ben lied and deceived the people I love? Well, I just can’t do it. Maybe if I hadn’t been through so much the last few years, I could. But I thought Ben was my friend. I trusted him. I think I deserve an explanation for what he’s done.”

  Margaret bit her lip and her hand fell away from his arm. “ ‘Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord,’ ” she quoted softly.

  Rand looked at her for a long moment, then grabbed his hat and strode toward the back door. Her words made him feel guilty and uneasy somehow, but he pushed the feelings away.

  “Don’t go see Ben without me,” Jacob called to his retreating back, his voice tight with anger.

  Rand nodded without looking back. He strode into the barn and grinned at the welcoming nicker. At least Ranger didn’t think he was dead. He patted the horse’s white nose lovingly, then saddled him and headed first toward the Montgomery farm. Then he’d settle with Ben Croftner.

  four

  Sarah took a sip of tea and tried to drag her attention back to Myra’s conversation, but her thoughts kept whirling around. Tomorrow she would be Mrs. Ben Croftner. She thought she knew just how Joan of Arc must have felt the night before she was burned at the stake, and her spirit recoiled at the thought of what tomorrow would bring. The last few days had swept by in a daze and now her future was hurtling toward her at breathtaking speed. The light-hearted chatter of her friends around her, the brightly patterned quilt still attached to the quilting frame, the gifts heaped beside her, all served to deepen her sense of impending doom. 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, almost afraid 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 eyes 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.

  “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 as she reached toward him. “Hello, Sarah.”

  “Rand?” Sarah could barely choke out the name. Was he real? “Rand, is it really you?” Hesitantly she touched his square jawline and felt the rough stubble on his chin. “It is you!” She buried her face against his chest and burst into tears. If it’s a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up, she thought. But this was no dream. The rough texture of his uniform under her cheek, the familiar spicy tang of his hair tonic, and most importantly, the touch of his hands on her waist were all too vivid and real for it to be a dream.

  Rebecca Stevens, the pastor’s wife, motioned for the rest of the ladies to follow her into the kitchen. She closed the door behind them, her blue eyes dancing with joy and relief.

  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 the tears. “You’re so thin!”

  “I know you were told I was dead. I stopped home first and Jacob told me.” He explained all the events of the past year while Sarah’s green eyes absorbed 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.

  “Why didn’t you write?” she said when he paused for breath.

  “I did.”

  She suddenly realized that he hadn’t really embraced her yet. And there was a hidden something in his eyes. Was it pain? Anger? “What is it?” she asked, her throat tight. “What’s wrong?”

  He picked up her left hand; the diamond engagement ring Ben had given her only days before sparkled in the afternoon sun streaming through the lace curtains. “Why didn’t you wait for me like you promised?” He dropped her hand and took a step back. “How could you do it, Sarah? I trusted you. 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.”

  “But, Rand—”

  He interrupted her with a fierce look, his anger beginning to override the initial joy of their reunion. “Some of the other men got thrown over, but I never worried about that. Not my Sarah, I thought. She would be true no matter what happens. 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?”

  What was he saying? She began to sob again, only now the tears were of sorrow not joy. “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. And your wonderful new fiancé knew all along I wasn’t dead.”

  “No, Rand, he told me—”

  He seized her trembling shoulders, his face white with rage. “He knew, I tell you! 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—”

  “Yeah, I’m really dead, aren’t I?”

  “Bu–but Ben saw your body.” She felt idiotic repeating herself, but her mind felt somehow sluggish and stupid. She couldn’t seem to reconcile the two totally different stories.

  “I tell you he knew all along I wasn’t dead! He was with the troops who rescued me!”

  “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?”

  She suddenly understood he was accusing Ben of deliberately keeping the truth from her. “There must be some explanation. Ben wouldn’t do something like that,” she insisted stubbornly.

  “And 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 hat and raked a hand through his thick hair. “How can you even stand there and defend what Ben’s done?”

  Her green eyes grew huge in her white face as she suddenly grasped the enormity of Ben’s treachery. 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! How can you blame me for it?”

  Rand took a deep breath and she flinched from the pain and anger she saw burning in his brown eyes. “I reckon what really hurts the most is just how quick you took up with Croftner. I didn’t realize until now how lit
tle you loved me. And that hurts, Sarah. That really hurts.” He wheeled to the door and wrenching it open, stalked out.

  “Rand!” she cried after his retreating figure. “Don’t go. I do love you!” She ran after him, but he ignored her pleading voice and stomped 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 white face, 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 as he stared down at her for one long moment. He shook his head slightly as though to clear it, then dug his heels into the gelding’s flank and turned down the lane.

  She stared after him in horror and disbelief. He had to listen to her—he just had to! She sank down on the porch step and buried her face in her hands. The diamond 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. She pulled her hand away and stared at the ring in rage and revulsion. Wrenching it off her finger and standing up, she threw it as hard as she could toward the woods to her left. She could see it winking in the sunlight as it arced up then disappeared into the burnished canopy of leaves. She couldn’t stand to have it touch her or to even see it. It was just a reminder of her gullibility.

  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 quilting bee was still strewn about the parlor. Rachel had left to go pick up Wade in town. She kicked aside a pincushion 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’s alive, she thought. 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

  Rand paused for a moment on a knoll overlooking the Campbell home sprawling below him. This is some homecoming, he thought with a bitter twist to his lips. 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. I always thought her love was the kind that only comes once in a lifetime, he thought. And to find out now that she’d promised to marry Ben while he lay near death was just too much to take in.

  He urged Ranger down the lane toward the house. He had to see Ben. Right now. His wounded pride demanded a face- to-face explanation from Ben for his treachery. But he’d promised Jacob not to go without him, so he would wait long enough to keep his promise. He’d always prided himself on the value of his word, unlike a certain woman he knew, he thought with pain twisting his lips.

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

  The family was sitting around the kitchen table when he stepped in the back door. Pa was saying grace, so Rand stood silently, his head bowed. As soon as he heard the amen, he limped to the table and dropped into the empty chair beside Jacob.

  Margaret had peeked during the prayer when she heard the screen door open and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Rand come in. He really was there. She wanted to drink in the sight of him, even though his face was set in grim lines with no trace of the half-smile he usually wore even in sleep. She smiled at him when he sat down, but even then, his face remained set and strained.

  “You still want to go with me, Jacob?”

  Jacob looked up at his brother’s grim face and his own darkened. “I’ll get my hat.”

  Margaret saw he was still not ready to listen to reason, but she had to try. “Wait till tomorrow, Son. Think it over with a clear head.”

  “Think about it! That’s all I’ve done for the past three hours. Ben is going to have to explain what he’s done.” His voice shook with emotion, then rose. “I can’t even enjoy being home until I see him. I can’t just pick up my life where I left off as if none of this has happened.” He stood abruptly as Jacob came back into the kitchen.

  The two young men mounted up and rode out silently, 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. Jacob kept stealing glances at the outline of Rand’s set jaw, illuminated occasionally by the last shafts of sunlight through the thick curtain of leaves above their heads. He wasn’t sure he recognized his brother in this jaw-clenched man beside him.

  “You know where Ben lives?”

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

  Rand looked at him in surprise. “How’d he ever afford a place like that?”

  “Land speculation, mostly. And investments after the war, I guess. He’s pretty closemouthed about it.”

  Rand followed his brother as they cantered up the steep Wabash Street hill and turned down Main Street, dimly illuminated by gaslights. His anger against Ben deepened at this new revelation. God never promised life would be fair, he could almost hear his grandma whisper. He shook his head to clear the thought out and clenched his jaw tighter.

  §

  When Sarah awoke, the situation seemed even more dreadful to her. The hardest thing to accept was her own naiveté. She surely hadn’t shown much of the clear-headed thinking she’d always prided herself on, she thought wryly. And the realization of how easily she’d been deceived really stung. The clock chimed, reminding her how late it was, so she hurriedly threw more wood into the cookstove and sat down at the table to peel potatoes. Papa would be back from town any time, 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.

  “Sarah.”

  She jumped at the sudden sound. She had been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard the knock on the door. She turned and whitened when she saw Ben. She clenched her fists, then rose and took a step toward him. “How dare you come here after what you’ve done! How could you do such a thing to me—to Rand’s family?”

  “Rand, always Rand! Don’t you care about my feelings at all?” Tears of self-pity welled up in his eyes, then he suddenly noticed her bare left hand. “Where’s your ring?” he demanded hoarsely, grasping her shoulders in a painful grip.

  Sarah stared at him, her green eyes enormous. “You can’t possibly think I would marry you after all you’ve done?” She twisted vainly in his painful grip. “After you lied and tricked me? You’re not the man I thought you were at all. I could never marry someone I couldn’t trust.”

  Ben ignored her retort. “Where—is—your—ring?” He punctuated every word with a shake, and her hair tumbled out of the pins and down her back.

  “I threw it into the woods,” she said with a defiant toss of her head.

  His fingers bit deeper into the soft flesh of her arms, and she winced. “Do you have any idea how much that ring cost?” he shouted.

  “Is money all you care about? Don’t you care about the pain you’ve caused?” She couldn’t believe how quickly his tender, well-mannered facade crumbled.

  He saw her appalled expression, and his own face hardened. He seized her elbow and yanked her toward the door.

  “What are you doing?” Panicked, Sarah tried to free herself. “Let go of me!” She heard the fabric rip under her elbow as she tried to wrench her arm out of his grip.

  “You’re mine, Sarah, and no one else’s. You’re coming with me, and Campbell will never find us.” He hauled her struggling form through the door and hoisted her up beside Labe, waiting in the buckboard, the brim of his hat pulled low to shield his face from the
misty rain just beginning to fall.

  Labe’s face was pale, and his mouth worked soundlessly. “I’m sorry, Sarah,” he finally whispered as he tied her hands together with a piece of rough rope. “I tried to talk him out of this, but there was no stoppin’ him.”

  “Shut up,” his brother snarled as he crawled up beside Sarah. “Everything arranged?”

  Labe nodded uncertainly. “Bedrolls are in the back, ’long with everthin’ else you said.”

  He’s insane, Sarah thought when she saw the strange glint in his eyes. With renewed fear, she lunged backward, intending to crawl over the bedrolls and out the back, but Ben was too quick for her. He sat her back in the seat with a bone-jarring thump. “If you don’t sit still, I’ll truss you up like a chicken,” he warned.

  And he would, too. She could see it in his eyes. Shivering from the cold needles of rain that pelted down in earnest now, she huddled in the seat and tried to think of how to get out of this mess.

  Ben picked up the reins, but before he could slap them against the horse’s flank, two riders came around the curve of the lane. He squinted in the near darkness, his eyes widening as he recognized Rand and Jacob.

  “Rand!” Sarah cried in relief. She started to clamber over Labe, but Ben grabbed her arm.

  “Let go of her, Ben. This is between you and me.” Rain dripping from the broad brim of his army hat, Rand slid to the ground and walked toward the buckboard, skirting the widening mud puddles. Jacob followed close behind, his fists clenched.

  The click as Ben drew back on the trigger of his pistol was muffled in the pattering rain. “Don’t come any closer, Campbell.”

  Rand stopped. “Why’d you do it, Ben? Why did you lie to everyone?”

  All the pent-up rage and hatred burst out of Ben like a torrent of pus from a festering wound. “It was always you! Even my pa thought the sun rose and set with you. Ever since you stopped and helped him mend our fence and round up all the escaped cattle. It was always, ‘Ben, why don’t you study as hard as Rand,’ or ‘Ben, I hope you turn out as well as that oldest Campbell boy.’ I got so sick of being compared to you. I don’t know why he expected so much of me anyway. He was just a no-account drunk all his life.”