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Authors: Colleen Coble

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BOOK: A Journey of the Heart Collection
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Being astride a horse again for the first time in a year cleared his thoughts, and he was more in control of his emotions by the time he pulled the mare off the road and headed up the deeply rutted track that followed the river. To gather his thoughts, he let the horse graze in the knee-high grass along the dirt track. He'd have Shane return the rental horse to the livery. His own horse, Ranger, would be glad to see him. He sat a moment and gazed out at Campbell land. The fields were tawny with drying corn. Harvest would be in a few weeks.

He turned the horse's head and urged her up onto the road again. They rounded the corner, and his heart quickened as the white two-story home on the hill overlooking the river came into view. Home. How he'd longed for this moment.

He pulled the horse up sharply. Should he go home first or see Sarah and demand an explanation? He
could just see the roof of the large Montgomery house over the next rise. He let the horse prance on the path for a moment as he decided what to do.

No. He dug his heels into the mare's flank and turned up the Campbell lane. His family first. At least they'd mourned for him.

By the time he reached the front yard, his heart pounded and his palms were slick with sweat. A nagging headache persisted just behind his eyes. He pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted, a little disappointed no one was outside. He guided the horse to the shade of a big oak tree and tied her where she could reach the grass.

As he approached the back door, through the window he could see his mother washing dishes. A wave of love welled up in him as he saw the new gray in her hair and the fine web of wrinkles at her eyes. He breathed in the familiar scent of apple pie baking in the oven as he quietly opened the door.

His mother's back was to him, and he watched her a moment as she picked up a dish and proceeded to wash it. “I think I heard a horse,” she said to the little brown dog lying on the rug by her feet. “Probably one of the menfolk home.”

The little dog pricked her ears and whined as she
looked toward the door. His mother dipped the soapy plate in the pan of rinse water and laid it to drain on the wooden chopping block beside her.

Rand let the screen door bang behind him, but she didn't turn. “Don't bang the door,” she said. Jody yipped and launched herself in a frenzy toward the door. His mother wiped her soapy hands on her apron and turned. Her eyes went wide as her gaze swept over him, then returned to lock with his.

“Ma.” Rand knelt and picked up the little dog as he stared at his mother.

She froze, and Rand saw one emotion after another chase across her face. Uncertainty, disbelief, hope. She clutched her hands in the folds of her apron.

“Ma, I'm home.” Rand patted Jody and laughed as the dog wriggled in his arms and licked his face joyously.

Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged as she stared at him.

“It's me, Ma.”

“Rand?” she whispered as she took a faltering step toward him. “Rand!” With a noise something between a cry and a croak, she threw herself into his arms as the tears started down her cheeks.

Rand inhaled the aroma of her sachet, something
sweet with a rose scent. He struggled not to let the moisture burning his eyes slide down his cheeks. Home. He was finally home.

“Let me look at you.” She held him at arm's length, then hugged him, laughing and crying as Jody whined and wagged her tail joyfully.

Rand clutched his mother so tightly he was afraid he hurt her. Ever since he was captured, he'd longed for his ma's gentle touch on his brow. At night when he awoke bathed in sweat from the pain, he had ached to lay his head on her breast and hear her soothing voice as she sang to him. He had been so hurt and bewildered at her silence after his release. Every time the door to the hospital ward opened, he had expected to see her anxious face.

“We thought you were dead.”

“I know. There's a lot to tell you. How about some coffee?”

Jacob stopped short when he saw the strange horse munching grass in the shade. “You expecting anyone?” He shot a quizzical look at Shane and his pa.

Jeremiah shook his head. “Looks like that new bay from Larson's Livery. Must be someone from out of town.”

They turned their horses over to one of the hands, then headed toward the kitchen door. A low murmur of voices drifted out the screen door, and Jacob paused. It almost sounded like Rand. But he knew better than to fall for that trick of his mind. There were times when he thought he caught a glimpse—out of the corner of his eye—of Rand in his favorite red plaid flannel shirt, striding past. He pushed into the kitchen as a dark-haired man, dressed in a blue Union uniform, rose from the kitchen table and turned to face him.

“Jake.”

Rand had coined his nickname, and no one said it quite the way he did. Jacob opened his mouth to question this smiling, dark-eyed stranger who looked like—but of course couldn't be—Rand.

“Rand!” Shane flung himself past Jacob into Rand's waiting arms. A moment later all four men were hugging and slapping one another on the back, unashamed of the tears streaming from their eyes.

“The good Lord answered our prayers after all.” With a shaking hand, Pa wiped at his eyes with his
bandanna. He was breathing hard, as if he'd just run all the way from the back pasture to the house.

They sat around the kitchen table as Ma hurriedly poured them each a cup of coffee and joined them. Just as she sat down, the front door slammed.

Hannah, the eldest and the only girl, hurried into the kitchen. “Sorry I'm late, Ma.” She stopped and looked at the group clustered around the table. Her puzzled stare stopped when her gaze met Rand's. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no sound escaped.

“What! My gabby sister with nothing to say?” Rand stood, a teasing light in his eyes.

Hannah screamed and dropped the basket she was holding. Potatoes rolled across the wooden floor, and she almost tripped on them as she rushed toward her brother. She threw herself into Rand's arms, and he nearly toppled over.

“Careful,” he said. “I'm still not quite myself.”

She held him at arm's length. “Explain how this happened.”

She hung onto his arm as he limped back to the table and sat down. “I was just about to tell Ma when you so rudely interrupted.” He grinned. “Of course,
that's nothing new—you've never learned how to be quiet.”

“Very funny!” She punched him on the arm and sat beside him.

“Ouch.” He rubbed his arm, then turned his grin at his family. “I was captured in northwest Georgia in September of '63. I'd been on reconnaissance, trying to see where the heaviest troop concentrations were. That's how I spent most of the war, slipping back and forth through enemy lines. The Rebs took me to Andersonville prison camp—”

“Andersonville!” Jacob shuddered, remembering the newspaper reports. “That camp is notorious. I heard the Union army found twelve thousand graves there when the war was over. They liberated it last May. You've been free for five months.”

Rand nodded. “I was lucky I wasn't one of them. You can't imagine how bad it was. We had to build our own shelters, usually just a lean-to made with whatever we could find. Blankets, clothing, sticks. Some of the men could only dig a hole in the ground and cover up with a thin blanket. There were so many of us we just barely had enough space to lie down. And the food—”

He broke off and took a deep breath. “Well, it wasn't like yours, Ma. We were lucky if they gave us a little salt, maybe a half a cup of beans, and about a cup of unsifted cornmeal. Death was welcome for most of those guys. I helped bury over a hundred bodies in a common grave.” His face was white.

Ma laid a trembling hand on his arm. “I just thank God you survived it, son.”

He covered her hand with his. “I was delirious by the time we were freed. The doctor said I had dysentery and malnutrition.” He smiled grimly. “I weighed less than a hundred pounds when I was brought to the hospital. A skeleton really. I've spent the last five months at Harewood General Hospital in Washington, D.C., recuperating.”

“Why didn't you write?” Hannah burst out.

“I did. At least once a month.”

Jacob shook his head. “We never received a single letter. Just a notification from the army of your death.” He looked at his mother. “You want to show him, Ma?” He felt an inexplicable need to explain their willingness to believe Rand dead.

“I have it right here.” Their mother hurried from the room and returned moments later waving a paper.
“See, right here.” She thrust it under Rand's nose. “Official notice.”

Rand studied it a moment, then handed it back. “There was a lot of confusion in the camps. It's not uncommon for this to happen.”

“I knew you weren't dead. I just knew it,” Shane put in excitedly. “I told Sarah just last week!”

At the mention of Sarah's name, Jacob's gaze went to his brother. He'd been dreading telling Rand about Sarah. He wouldn't take it well.

Rand stared back at Jacob, his eyes no longer smiling. “What about Sarah, Jake?”

Jacob started, then forced himself to look in his brother's hurt eyes.
He knew.
“What have you heard?”

“I already know she's going to marry Ben Croftner.

How could she do that—didn't she mourn me at all?”

“Mourn you? You idiot!” Hannah stood and raked a hand through her mane of chestnut hair. “We all feared for her sanity! She refused to eat for days. Even now she hardly smiles. And you know what a perky, bubbly little thing she always was.”

“Then why is she marrying Ben?”

Hannah hesitated, her gaze searching her brother's face. “William is dying.” She sat back down beside her
brother and took his hand. “Wade has her convinced that marrying Ben will help her father through this tough time. But that wily Ben has promised Wade that fifty acres of prairie he's always coveted as a marriage settlement.”

“Hannah, you shouldn't gossip.”

“It's not gossip, Ma. Rachel told me. Wade's taken advantage of Sarah's apathy since the news of your death to convince her. She thinks she owes it to the family to do this.”

“Wade's always thought of himself instead of his family.” Rand's voice was tight. “But there's something else you don't know.” He stood and paced over to the window at the front of the kitchen, then wheeled to face them. “Ben has known all along I wasn't dead.”

“What!” Their mother stood, her hand on her chest. “Are you sure?”

He nodded grimly. “Ben was with the troops who liberated the prison. I gave him a letter to give to Sarah.”

Ma bit her lip. “Maybe he thought you died after he left.”

Jacob clenched his fists. He wanted to find Croftner and pummel him. “He knew we read it in the paper last fall. And that we received an official notification
shortly after that. I'm positive he never gave Sarah any letter.”

“What about all the letters I wrote from the hospital?” Rand sat down and stretched his leg out in front of him.

“Maybe they were lost,” Pa said. “The mail service has been wretched.”

“All of them?” Rand shook his head. “Not likely. Ben must have gotten hold of them somehow.”

“Labe works in the post office.”

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

Jacob tried to tamp down his anger. “What other explanation is there, Sis?”

Rand got to his feet. “I'm going to see Sarah. Then I'm going to get to the bottom of this.”

Ma 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.”

Ma touched Rand's cheek. “What's gotten into you?” She paused, searching his face. “You've always been the even-tempered, rational one in the family.”

“What do you expect, Ma? For me to just forget how Ben lied to 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 deserve an explanation for what he's done.”

“ ‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord,' ” she quoted softly.

Rand stepped away, shaking his head. Jacob fell into step with him. “I'm going with you.”

FOUR

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