A Journey of the Heart Collection

  He urged Ranger to a trot and clung tightly to avoid slipping out of the saddle. Within an hour he was in familiar territory. Maybe he could make Fort Laramie before it was fully dark. But his horse was exhausted, and he was forced to walk. Rand was still weak from his ordeal, and he had to stop often to catch his breath. He stopped for the night on a bluff about five miles southwest of the fort. Barely conscious, he crawled into his bedroll and closed his eyes.

  The weather had warmed to the seventies the last few days. Sarah snatched her bonnet and handed Amelia’s to her. “I’m tired of being cooped up. Let’s go for a stroll in the sunshine.” Amelia followed her into the bright sunshine. Puddles stood in the parade ground, and she stopped to listen to the band practicing.

  Her bonnet shaded the glare from her face, and she glanced around. The men should be back from woodcutting detail soon. She noticed Amelia’s perusal of her face. “What?”

  “You’ll have to make a decision about Isaac soon, Sarah. Are you going to marry him if he asks you?”

  Sarah pressed her lips together and started off toward the sutler’s store. “I don’t know. I like him. He’s so kind to Joel. And Joel likes him too. That’s important to me.” She kicked a rock out of her path. “Nothing is as I thought it would be when I came out here. I thought Joel and I would have a home. You and Jacob have been wonderful, but you haven’t been able to really settle into married life, not with the two of us living in that tiny space with you both. I should just marry Isaac.”

  “You don’t love him, though.”

  She cast a sidelong glance at her friend who knew her too well. “Not yet, but I hope to. I can’t pine after Rand the rest of my days. He’s made his decision very clear.”

  “I think he regrets his decision.”

  “I doubt it.” Her words died as she saw Jessica waving to them from in front of the store.

  “Sarah, Amelia.” She was dressed in a cream percale gown lavished with cream lace. Her red hair hung to her shoulders and gleamed in the sunshine. “I was hoping to find you. I haven’t seen much of you lately. Isaac has arranged for a detachment to escort Mother and me on a picnic. Would you like to come?”

  Sarah glanced at Amelia, who looked as confused as Sarah felt. “Why? You’ve made no secret of how you feel about me all winter. Why the sudden change of heart?”

  Jessica smiled and reached out to touch Sarah’s arm. “I realized how petty I was being. You’re part of Rand’s past, and I’d like us to be friends. Can’t we start over? The fort is too small for enmity between us.”

  Sarah was silent a moment. The jibe about being part of Rand’s past stung, but it was true. It was time to let go and heal as many relationships as possible. Besides, she was weary of the tiny area she was allowed. It would be grand to see some new terrain. That was the one thing she hadn’t accepted about fort life yet. The restrictions. Back home she was used to going for long rides by herself, wandering in the woods, or just walking along a country road. Now she was not allowed off the fort premises without a guard of at least five soldiers. And it seemed the fort’s parade ground got smaller and smaller every day.

  Sarah hoped her smile looked genuine. “That sounds lovely. We’ll go pack some food.”

  Jessica patted her arm, then tugged her forward along the wooden walk, Amelia and Mrs. DuBois not far behind. “Don’t bother. Mother has packed enough for an entire troop.”

  Jessica chatted easily as they strolled to the stable. Isaac had their mounts waiting for them, already cinched with sidesaddles. He helped Sarah up, and she smiled into his hazel eyes. Such a kind man. Why couldn’t she feel more strongly about him? She’d sensed his impatience at the way she kept him at a distance. She expected a proposal from him at any time.

  The women followed the detail of twelve soldiers west toward the purple mountains.

  Jessica kept up her smiling chatter, and gradually Sarah relaxed. Was it too much to hope that Jessica might be like this all the time? They found a grassy area near an outcropping of rocks and spread out their blankets away from any melting snowdrifts. The air was pungent with the scent of sage, and the purple mountains in the distance reached up to kiss the blue skies.

  After lunch Isaac knelt beside Sarah. “I’d like to bring down some game while we’re out here.” His soft gaze searched hers, as if trying to determine if she was open to a more serious conversation.

  Sarah looked away. “Of course. We’ll accompany you.”

  She gathered up the picnic things, then mounted with the other women. Sarah let her horse pick its way up the winding trail, breathing in the scent of sage. She reveled in the sense of freedom from the confines of Fort Laramie.

  As the men listened with rapt attention to Jessica’s story about a ball in Boston, Sarah let her horse walk farther and farther away from them. Even Amelia didn’t notice. At the top of the bluff, she slid off her horse and sat where she could look at the fort below her. She chuckled at Isaac’s sudden agitation when he discovered she was missing.

  She raised a hand and opened her mouth to call to him when her horse whinnied behind her. She stood quickly and turned to see an Indian warrior, heavily painted, galloping toward her. She froze in terror, then tried to put her foot into the stirrup to mount.

  But the Indian was upon her in an instant. He leaned down and scooped her up, his horse barely pausing as he caught her.

  Sarah struggled to get away, gagging at the odor of bear grease and sweat, but his arm was like a steel band around her waist. She screamed, certain she was doomed. But the crack of a rifle sounded and the Indian slumped against her, his arm loosening.

  She wrenched free and fell from the horse. Stunned from the swiftness of both the attack and her rescue, she lay on the hard ground as the Indian wheeled away, his face glazed with pain, holding a hand to his bloody shoulder.

  Rooster galloped out of a stand of trees, his cavalry cap gone and spiky red hair standing on end. “What’s wrong with you, gal? Don’t you got no sense atall?” He slid off his horse and pulled her to her feet. “Git on that horse now!” He shoved her up into the saddle. “There’s prob’ly more of them sneakin’ varmints around. We gotta git to the fort.” He slapped her horse’s rump, and they started down the bluff.

  Isaac, Mrs. DuBois, and Amelia, with the rest of the soldiers, met them at the bottom. Isaac’s face was tight with anger. But before he could say anything, they heard a whoop behind them and turned to see a group of Indians charging toward them.

  “Get going!” Isaac fell back and fired at the Indians to give Rooster time to get the girls to the safety of the fort.

  Amelia and Sarah kicked their horses into a mad dash for the fort as Mrs. DuBois screamed and moved faster than Sarah had ever seen. Jessica kicked her horse into a gallop, her face calm, and the rest of the soldiers brought up the rear.

  A bullet whistled by Sarah’s head as she clung to the horse’s back. Then her horse stumbled and she catapulted into a thorny bush. Her skin was pierced in a dozen places, and she lay there too stunned to even move.

  A young warrior galloped up, brandishing a knife. Before she could even think to scream, he cut her loose from the thornbush and hauled her up in front of him.

  Sarah tried to struggle away, but her head was throbbing from the fall and soon darkness descended.

  The next morning Rand awoke ravenous. His sunburn still throbbed, but he was stable. His store of food was all gone, and his ammunition was low, so he took his rifle and made his way down to the river. It wasn’t long before he shot a jackrabbit. It was tough and stringy as he ate it hot from the spit, but it would do. At least it would give him the strength he needed to get back.

  He saddled up Ranger and swung up into the saddl
e. In spite of the deceptive distances, he knew he’d be home soon. The fort drew nearer very quickly. Now he could make out the individual buildings. There was the commissary and the stable. The barracks and the hospital. Was he too late to help Sarah? He urged Ranger into a gallop.

  He arrived about eight o’clock. There seemed to be an uncommon amount of activity as dozens of soldiers jostled one another in their hurry to catch a mount and saddle up. Rooster, his voice shrill with emotion, called for a fresh horse.

  His heart pounding, Rand spotted Jacob and Isaac saddling horses beside the post headquarters. He kicked his mount into a canter and pulled up beside them. “What’s going on?”

  Jacob’s voice was grim. “Indians got Sarah.”

  The clipped words hit Rand like a blow. He felt light-headed with shock. “When?” He’d been worried about Ben and Jessica’s plan, and he should have been praying for safety from the Sioux.

  “This morning. We’re just back for fresh horses and supplies. You coming?”

  “Let me get a fresh mount.” Outwardly he was calm, but inwardly a cauldron of emotion was churning. Anger, guilt, love. He realized in a blinding instant what a fool he’d been. He’d never be able to ignore his feelings for her. He and Sarah had something precious, and he had treated it as something of inconsequence. And now it might be too late. He shuddered at the thought of what Sarah had perhaps already endured. He followed Isaac and Jacob out of the fort as they caught up with Rooster on his way to pick up the trail.

  Just before dusk they found a spot where a large group of horses had trampled the ground. Rand knelt in the dust. “Some of these prints belong to white men. Look here, Isaac. Shod hoof prints and boot heels.”

  Isaac knelt beside him and touched the prints. “Looks like two, maybe three, men.”

  Rooster came up behind them. “Sure am glad to see you, boy. You look bad, though. Yer skin’s blistered and peeling. What happened to you? How’d you git away from them Injuns?”

  “I’ll tell you later.” Finding Sarah was more important.

  Rooster nodded and knelt beside them. “What’d ya find, boys?”

  Rand gestured to the boot prints. “What do you make of this, Rooster? What would white men be doing with a pack of Sioux?”

  Rooster studied the ground for a moment. “Don’t look too good, young fellers. Don’t look too good at all.” He stood and scratched his red hair. “Injuns and white men. Renegades, most likely.” His brown eyes were compassionate as he turned to Rand. “Looks like maybe they got Sarah.”

  Rand shuddered. He felt as though his whole body had suddenly turned to ice. Renegade white men were the worst scum to walk the earth. They lived with the Sioux and used them for their own purposes.

  Jacob clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t give up hope yet, Rand. We’ll find her. White men move slower than Indians. We have a better chance of catching them now.”

  Rand nodded, but he knew Sarah was lost to him. He felt almost crazy with worry and grief as Rooster found the trail, and the detachment followed it up into the Laramie Mountains. The landscape grew more barren as loose rock over a bed of sand made travel more and more treacherous. As they rode, Rand told Rooster and Jacob about his ordeal and what Ben had said.

  Jacob ducked under a low-hanging tree. “What if this is part of Ben’s plan? Maybe he hired renegades to grab her.”

  Rand shook his head. “Even Ben wouldn’t stoop to working with men like that.”

  By the time it was too dark to follow the trail any longer, they were near the peak of the mountain. The night air was already cold, and a crisp tang to the air mingled with the scent of sage and the smoke from the fire as Rand unloaded his supplies and prepared to bed down near Jacob and Isaac.

  Rooster took his rifle out of its scabbard on his saddle. “I’ll take the first watch.” He walked over to a large boulder.

  Rand lay on the hard ground and stared up at the sky, vaguely aware of the crackling fire to his right as he gazed at the bright panorama of stars. The fire pushed back the blackness of the night, but nothing could push away the blackness in his soul.

  The plaintive howl of a pack of coyotes somewhere in the valley below him somehow added to his anguish. He prayed fervently for Sarah’s safety, but he was so consumed with worry, he couldn’t keep his thoughts together. The fire died to embers before he finally slept.

  FIVE

  When Sarah awoke she found herself on a pallet on a hard, dirt-packed floor. She sat up slowly and looked around the tiny one-room cabin. A rank odor rose from the grimy blanket over her, and she pushed it off with a shudder of disgust as she rose to get a better view of her surroundings.

  Her head throbbed and the room spun as she took a step toward the small, oilskin-covered windows. She paused until her head cleared, then moved gingerly toward the door. She raised the latch and tugged at the door, but it refused to budge no matter how hard she pulled. She leaned her throbbing head against it and tried to think.

  Those savages would be back any minute. What was she going to do? She could still see the painted face of the Indian who grabbed her. But why wasn’t she at an Indian camp? And whose old cabin was this anyway?

  But there were no answers to her questions, so she pushed away the fears and looked around for another avenue of escape. Her body ached in a hundred places from her contact with the thornbush, and she limped as she picked through the debris on the dirt floor.

  She found a small stool among the litter of papers, old tin cans, and rags and dragged it under the window. Standing on the stool, she pulled the torn oilcloth away from the window and tried to pull herself through.

  But the tiny opening was much too small for even Sarah’s slim shoulders, and the stool collapsed under her weight, one leg rolling useless across the floor, as she fell to the ground. She was hungry and thirsty and scared. Judging by the light, it was close to noon, so she must have been unconscious nearly twenty-four hours. No wonder her mouth was like cotton.

  She sat there until the sun no longer shone through the east window, feeling more and more abandoned. What if she was left here to die with no food or water? Panic overwhelmed her, and she ran to the door and pounded on it. She backed away when she heard horses approaching. The click of a lock being pulled back on the door.

  Trembling, she faced the door, so frightened she felt faint. If only she could see who was on the other side. Had the savages come back, or was she about to be rescued? She didn’t dare hope.

  The sudden flood of sunlight into the dark cabin blinded her momentarily, then she blinked in surprise as she recognized the two figures framed in the doorway.

  “Be-Ben?” she croaked through her parched throat. “Thank the Lord you’re here.”

  Although she would rather anyone else rescue her, Ben was a welcome surprise from the savages she’d expected. She had opened her mouth to thank him when she noticed how unsurprised he seemed to see her.

  “Been awake long? I wanted to give you time to appreciate my appearance.”

  “You knew . . . I was here?” Her chest thumped hard, and she took a step back.

  “Of course.” He kicked some refuse away from the door. “Shut the door, Labe.” He reached out and touched a lock of her hair, and she flinched away. His lips tightened as he dropped his hand. “The Indians were eager for the guns I offered for the ‘soldier girl with hair like the sun.’ But I must give credit where credit’s due. Jessica came up with the idea.”

  Sarah felt the blood drain from her face. Ben and Jessica had arranged for her kidnapping? But why? Her lips quivered as she forced back tears of weakness. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

&nb
sp; “Aren’t you interested in why you’re here?” The cruel light in Ben’s eyes grew as she took a step back. “Remember that marriage we were supposed to have? You should have been my wife by now, and I aim to put that to rights.” He pulled her to him and wrapped a hand in her hair.

  Pain encased her head as he tightened his grip on her. “Let go of me.” She couldn’t hold back a moan when he pulled even harder.

  “Too bad about your beloved Rand,” he sneered. “You have no one to blame for his death but yourself.”

  A shudder shook Sarah’s frame, and she closed her eyes. “Wha–what do you mean?”

  “I’m sure he’s dead by now.” He smirked. “Being staked out in the sun without food or water isn’t a pleasant way to die, but he deserved every bit of torment.”

  Rand dead? She wouldn’t believe it. “You’re lying,” she whispered. After all, she’d believed Ben before—and look what had happened.

  “Think so? Tell her, Labe.”

  His brother looked away and shuffled his feet. She stared into Ben’s face. How had she ever considered marrying him? The silence grew heavy as Ben stared back at her with an unsettling conviction in his eyes. He’d fooled her before, though. Labe’s nervous shuffle broke the silence.

  Sarah turned her eyes toward him. “Please. Please, Labe. Help me.”

  Labe’s eyes darted from his brother’s set face to Sarah’s. “Come on, Ben. Let’s take her back. She won’t say nothin’, will you, Sarah?”

  “No. No, of course not.” She wet her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. “Just take me back to the fort, and I’ll say you rescued me from the Indians. You’ll be heroes.”

  Ben’s lip curled. “You must take me for a fool!” He let go of Sarah’s hair and shoved her off her feet, then spun toward Labe. “Get out!” He pushed his brother out of the door, then shut and locked it.