Sarah's Heart (32 page)

The leaden feeling
in her heart sunk to her feet, making movement difficult. Just as Lot’s wife had done in the scriptures, Sarah wished she’d
turn into a pillar of salt. Surely then she wouldn’t feel this all-consuming
heartache. She leaned into Maggie and tottered outside.

The slap of crisp air in
her face brought Sarah back to her senses. She had to see Wolf. She turned to
Maggie, her pulse racing. “Go on home. I’ll meet you there. I
have
to
find him.”

Maggie opened her mouth
but Sarah hiked up her skirt and hurried toward the livery stable before the
woman had a chance to speak. Wolf had to be there. He just had to.

Breathless and panting,
Sarah stood in the doorway. Wolf led his pinto out of a stall and grabbed a
hank of mane, preparing to mount. “Wait,” she called out.

He turned; his eyes
widened. “Sarah, you shouldn’t be here.”

“I couldn’t let you go
without telling you something.”

He released his grasp on
Scout and walked closer. “What?”

“I’ve felt so guilty all
this time. You saved my life after I…I left you to die.”

“I know.”

Her mouth gaped. “You
know? What do you know?”

“I know you tried to
steal my horse, but I understand. If I’d been in your place, I would have done
the same.”

“But
how
do you
know?”

“Little by little, the
memory of that day I lay injured came back to me. I had a hazy recollection of
seeing you, but thought I dreamed it. I finally realized it was you I saw, and
I even recall listening to you struggle to mount Scout.
I heard you curse as you led him away.” He laughed.

“You must hate me.” She
lowered her gaze.

Wolf reached out and
cupped her chin, raising her face. “Not even close. I love you, Sarah…
have
for a long time, but I know that being with me would
bring nothing but misery into your life.”

Her breath hitched at
his mention of love. She’d always wanted to believe he shared her feelings, and
now he’d actually admitted it. A tremor of pleasure waffled thought her body;
she needed to make him see she’d be willing to take a chance.

“You’re wrong. As long
as I have you, nothing else matters.”

He shook his head and
lowered his hand to his side. “You may think that now, but I saw what my
parents went through. Even though they truly loved one another, the hatred and
prejudices that picked at them everywhere they went took a toll. It drove a
wedge between them.”

“We wouldn’t let
anything come between us.” She stepped closer and caressed his cheek.

He backed away. “It's
not a choice. It happens. Just the thought of anyone being unkind to you breaks
my heart, and I know that’s bound to happen if you’re with me. Don’t you see,
Sarah, we can’t be together. You would eventually resent me for keeping you
from all the other things you love to do…like teaching for instance. Hell, even
if we left this town, there’s no place where a half-breed and a white woman
would be welcomed.” The lantern light flickered in his brimming eyes and his
voice sounded thick.

Sarah’s hand grasped her
throat, trying to dispel the growing lump that choked her. She nodded, wishing
he was wrong. Anger at life’s unfairness shivered through her and she fisted
her hands at her side.
“God, if only thing were different.”
She peered deeply into his eyes. “I love you, Wolf. I always will, and I hate
to admit it, but you’re right. Out of this whole town only one person would
ever accept us being together—Maggie. I imagine every other place would be the
same.” Sarah's tears distorted his image.

“Please don't cry. It's
not goodbye forever. We’re bound to run into one another in town from time to
time, but the most we can do is pass as friends. It’s for the best,
Sarah.”

She nodded again and
brushed a tear from her cheek. “Maybe someday people like us,” her voice
trembled, “can find happiness, but in the meantime, I’m going to do my best to
change how people treat one another. I can teach
more
than reading and writing, I can make certain children learn
one race is no better than the other…that we all deserve respect.”

“I know you can make a
difference.” Love shone in his eyes as he caressed her cheek. “Can I ask one
last favor of you?”

“Of course, ask me
anything.”

“Kiss me goodbye… and
mean it.”

Sarah fell into his arms
and kissed him with all the passion and longing she’d denied for months. She
summoned all the feelings she imagined stretched over the coming years—the
endless culmination of days and hours she’d be without him—and deepened her
final goodbye. He pulled her closer, melding them into one. She could
barely breathe but reveled in the feel of every contour of his body, every beat
of his heart. Her chest ached knowing this was the last time she'd ever
taste his lips.

Slowly, Wolf pulled away
and stepped back. He peered deeply into her eyes. “I want to drink in your beauty
one last time so that when the years dim my eyesight I’ll still have your image
etched in my memory.” Without another word he turned and mounted.

Scout’s bristly hair
brushed her arm as her beloved rode past her and out of her life. Her bleary
gaze remained focused on him until he was gone. Tears streamed down
her face and fell onto the arms she clasped around herself as she
struggled to capture their last moment of passion together.

Chapter Thirty-One

 
Sarah stirred. She scowled at the steady buzzing
and robotically reached to the nightstand to swat the button atop her alarm
clock. Her palm stilled the annoying noise. Rolling onto her back, she stared
at the ceiling through blurry eyes and tried to clear her muddled mind. She
must have been dreaming. But everything… he…seemed so real. She brushed a hand
across her cheek, surprised to draw back fingers damp with tears. Why did she
feel so miserable?

Hugging her second
pillow to her chest, she curled on her side and scanned the sunlit bedroom,
recognizing the familiarity of her surroundings. Her floral comforter draped
across the foot of her four-poster bed, the matching drapes drawn back with
tassels to reveal plantation blinds, and the padded seat in the alcove where
she so often sat and looked out on the street below brought memories flooding
back. She was home, in her own bed? A strange hollowness crept into the pit of
her stomach. If this was where she lived, then what about Maggie’s boarding
house, the livery, the schoolhouse, the beautiful town square?

Outside, a siren
wailed in the distance and interrupted her thoughts. The muted honking and tire
squealing she recalled signaled the start of the morning commute. Sarah rose
and padded to the window, opening the wooden blinds and squinting out at the
myriad of colored vehicles darting along the busy boulevard ten stories down.
The usual murky haze shrouded the sky, fouling the air and blurring the
skyscrapers in the distance. Yes, the scene was definitely straight out of Manhattan. But why did she
remember Missouri?

Vivid pictures of
wispy clouds floating in a sea of pale blue drifted into her mind. She pulled
her face into a doubtful pucker. In New
York
?Not
likely. What about
the stream where she’d bathed and washed her hair…the mission and the Indian
children? How could what she dreamed leave such a lasting impression? Didn’t
one usually forget those things when they woke?

 
With a twist of a rod, she closed the window
covering, flattening the slats and creating a cinema screen where images of an
endless prairie, dirt-covered streets, wooden walkways and haunting hazel eyes
flashed before her. Covered wagons and painted red faces…the bits and pieces
fit together with such reality, she trembled.

Crossing back to the
bed, Sarah perched on its edge, sat, and curled her toes in the downy ecru
carpet covering her apartment floor.
So different from the
braided rug in Maggie’s parlor.
How often had Sarah dreamed?
Many times before, but never about something so vivid as to haunt
her waking hours.
Maybe she occasionally recalled a fragment here and
there, but this night vision felt like she actually lived it—breathed it. And
what of Wolf, the handsome half-breed she fought to win, but lost?

A deep exhalation
rushed past her lips as she massaged her brow, fingering the puzzled crease
that crinkled it.

She shivered, partly
from the morning chill, but more so from the memories of events she could swear
actually happened. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shrug her
feelings of loss. Months of life in another time and place couldn’t actually
pass in
one
night, could they? How could faces and personalities she
conjured up assume such reality?

 
She stared at the fingers she recalled had
reddened from Molly’s blood…the very fingers that now had brightly colored
nails and were well manicured.
A dream?
Really?
How else could she explain away all the weirdness?

 
She rolled her eyes. No doubt, she’d soon
forget all of it—the horrible images, the terror—even the shared love. But that
part, she didn’t want to let go. If only for a night she’d met the man she
wanted to love forever.

Her gaze rested on
the clock. Work beckoned, and she reluctantly stood. She loved her job, but
maybe her duties as copy editor for O’Malley Publishing was to blame for her
night visions. All those historical novels she proofed must have planted the
seed in her psyche. She shook her head and chuckled. Now she was just grasping
at straws. Or, was she
grasping
at love however she could get it?

Romance evaded her
every day. Most men she met were jerks…jerks in suits. Still, even in her
dreams, she hadn’t fared well.
So much for her handsome,
buckskin-clad hero.
Her
“humph” sliced the
silence. Where in New York
would you see that kind of hunk? With a sigh, she resigned herself to another
day lost in the fictional dreams of authors.

Mechanically, she
smoothed her duvet across the bed, her mind still seeking a plausible
explanation for her silly emotional state. Romance novels caused her dream?
Well, she certainly wasn’t going to stop reading. Life without books would be
as meaningless as…as living without the without the man she’d fabricated.
Despite that sorrowful thought, she forced a laugh. So she’d had a crazy dream.
It had to be fluke… or something she ate. It happened once and wasn’t likely to
again. So why did she feel so devastated?
Hormonal?
That had to be the reason.

As she neatly
arranged her decorator pillows, she recalled hearing about people who analyzed
visions; maybe she needed one. She headed for the shower, an image of herself
stretched out on a couch, trying to explain the madness to a perfect stranger.
No way
she was
doing that. She forced herself to think
about only what lay ahead, letting the warmth of the water soothe her stress
and clear her head.

Dressed and ready,
Sarah did a quick mental check, making sure she had everything—purse, keys, and
travel mug filled with coffee. All set to strike out and catch the bus to the
business
district,
she reached for the doorknob just
as someone knocked.

“Who the heck is
visiting at this hour?” she muttered.

She yanked open the
door, her purse swinging on her shoulder. Her mouth gaped.

 
“Sorry to bother you so early. I’m sure you
didn’t expect to find a perfect stranger on your doorstep, but I’m having
somewhat of an emergency.” He gave a sheepish grin and brushed his long, dark
hair out of sparkling hazel eyes. “I’m your new neighbor. My sister and I are
sharing the apartment next door while her husband is in Afghanistan. We’ve just moved in,
and everything is still in boxes. I can’t stand unsweetened coffee, and I
wonder if I might borrow some sugar.”He held out a cup.

Sarah’s gaze locked
on the familiar face, and a gasp froze in her throat. She stared at the man
through eyes that felt the size of silver dollars. “I….”

“Oh, how rude of me,
I didn’t even introduce myself before I shared my life story with you.” He
thrust out his free hand. “I’m Nathaniel Elder, but friends call me
Nate…sometimes Wolf, even though I have no idea why. And you are?”

“Sa…Sarah Collins, I
think.” She grasped his hand and sensed a tingle spread tiny sparks up her arm.
“Won’t you come in? I’ll be happy to loan you some sugar.” She released his
hand and smiled. “But, only if you agree to dine here tonight. I insist on
making dinner for you and your sister. It’s my way of welcoming you to the
neighborhood.”

He followed her to
her kitchen. “I’m pretty sure Molly would love that. I know I would. We haven’t
had a chance to go grocery shopping. What time?”

Sarah placed her
purse on the table and filled his cup.
“How about seven?”

“Sounds
great.”
He paused in the
doorway, his hand covering the brimming white granules, and glanced back at
her. “I have the strangest feeling we’ve met before, but that isn‘t likely
since me and sis just moved here. Have you lived out of state?”