Sandler looked up. His eyes had the look of a hunted wolf. “Get off my land.” His tone was clear, evidencing he wasn’t as drunk as Travis had first suspected.
“Haven’t seen you in a while. Do you mind if I go inside and say hello to Karen?” Travis resisted the urge to finger his pistol.
“I said get off my land. You’re not welcome.” Sandler stood, his six-foot height surpassing Travis by a couple of inches. Bowie was taller, though. Good thing they’d come together.
Thank You, Lord, for giving me foresight. And tall brothers.
Travis took a couple of steps closer, gaze on the window. A flash of movement from inside caught his attention. His heart pounded. Annie. She was in there. Had to be.
“I just want to give something to Karen. I need to make sure she and the baby are doing all right. I’ll only be a minute.” He kept his tone soothing, speaking slowly and clearly. This tone had worked to calm soldiers, five-year-olds, and little old ladies. Hopefully it still had the right effect.
Without warning, Sandler crumpled to the ground. He curled into a ball, shoulders shaking. Travis was no stranger to the cries coming from his lips. He’d heard them on the battlefield and in field hospitals. Even once or twice from down the hall at the Hart house, coming from the room where Bowie slept.
His brother crouched beside the man, relieving him of his weapon. Travis couldn’t tell what Bowie was saying, but a second later, his brother looked up. “Go get her.”
Travis didn’t waste another second. He stepped around Sandler and unlatched the cabin door.
In a swift glance, he took in the scene. Karen Sandler on the bed, a tiny baby in her arms. Both were stiff, their faces gray with death. A fire smoked and smoldered in the hearth, the scent of burning cotton imbuing the air.
Oh, Annie. What kind of torture had she lived through since yesterday?
She faced him now, her face pale, her dress filthy. Yet the sight of her whole and unharmed filled him with more joy than if he had beheld the most celebrated beauty.
“What are you doing here?” Her eyes widened.
“Searching for you.” He reached forward and grasped her hand in his. In a sudden movement, he lifted her hand, pressing it to his lips. Her skin was as soft as he remembered, each of her fingers delicate in their strength. All that remained to make them perfection was the item he’d carried with him throughout the years of war. The question remained, would she take it? Yet that answer would wait. For now, savoring this moment was more than enough.
His chest tightened at the sweetness in her smile.
“I was running away, Travis.” Her words were barely audible. “Not literally, but in a way. I don’t want to run again.” She took a step closer, her breath coming fast. “You’ve found me now. Please…” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Please, don’t ever let me go.”
He kissed her hand again, hope drenching his heart in a waterfall of promise.
“Never.”
Chapter Ten
I thought I’d have to get a crowbar to pry your arms from around that Hart boy yesterday.” The censuring bite in her father’s words greeted Annie as she entered the parlor the morning after her rescue. She seated herself, folding her hands properly in her lap.
“He was helping me down off the horse.” Annie leafed through a stack of correspondence.
“Oh, so that’s all it was?” Her father smirked. “You must have needed an inordinate amount of help.”
Annie drew in a deep breath. The girl she’d been would’ve ducked her head and rushed from the room. The woman of only a few days ago would’ve done the same. But much had changed since then. No longer would she allow her father’s angry opinions to bathe her in shame. God had freed her from that, and she wouldn’t become enslaved again.
“No, Father. That’s not all it was.”
“Mind explaining?” Her father folded his arms across his wide chest.
She stood, mimicking his commanding stance. “If you’ll actually listen, then no, I don’t mind one bit. When I was seventeen, I allowed you to force me against following what my heart told me to be true. I’ve changed since then, and I won’t let myself be persuaded to go against what I believe the Lord’s will is ever again. God is the only One whose opinion matters to me, and I feel His peace about this. I believe Travis Hart still cares for me. And if the Lord wills, it would be my joy and privilege to accept his offer of courtship.” She dropped her arms at her sides. “I love you, Father. I will do my best to honor you. But I will not allow you to demean me or make me feel unworthy of happiness ever again.”
Her father said nothing. Annie tried for a small smile. What she wouldn’t give to have experienced a different relationship with the only parent she remembered. To have enjoyed father-daughter confidences, basking in mutual affection.
But life wasn’t perfect. There would always be gaps, scars, missing pieces.
Lord, thank You for always being willing to fill them.