A Journey of the Heart Collection by Colleen Coble Page A

You’ll never have her. Never. You just remember that.” His head fell back against the floor of the buckboard as Labe slapped the reins against the horse’s flank, but Ben watched them until he was out of sight, a burning hatred in his eyes.
    Sarah shivered. “I think he means it. Watch your back, Rand.”
    â€œI can take care of myself. You’re soaked to the bone. You go on in now. Just give me some time.”
    Sarah hesitated, her eyes searching his sober face. Time? How much time? But she left the questions unanswered and walked wearily up the porch steps, her wet skirt dragging in the mud. She turned to watch Rand and Jacob mount up and ride down the lane and around the curve. Didn’t he realize how much time they’d wasted already?

    The next morning Rand woke disoriented. The familiar clanging of trays in the hallway and the squeak of nurses’ shoes scurrying was missing. Sunshine streamed in the window and illuminated suddenly familiar surroundings. The toy soldiers Grandpa had carved for him when he was five were lined up on a battered chest against the wall. His fingers stroked the brightly colored quilt, soft and faded with numerous washings. The rug on the unpainted wood floor was as threadbare as he remembered it.
    He glanced at the space next to him. Jacob was nowhere to be seen, but there was that indentation on the pillow, a sight he’d seen hundreds of times and had thought he’d never see again.
    He jumped out of bed, eager to get downstairs. He wouldn’t worry about anything today, he decided as he splashed cold water on his face. He was just going to enjoy being with his family again after three long years. No uniform either. He opened his closet, grabbed a pair of overalls and his favorite plaid shirt, and pulled them on. The pants hung around his waist, and they were too long, but they would have to do.
    By the time he pulled on socks and boots, the aroma of coffee and ham filled the air and made his stomach rumble. The low murmur of voices quickened his steps as he hurried down the stairs.
    His mother spun around as he stepped into the kitchen. “I was just coming to wake you. I fixed ham and eggs, grits, flapjacks, and coffee. I’ll have you fattened up in no time.” She gave him a quick, reassuring hug.
    Rand grinned as he squeezed her, breathing in the faint fragrance of roses that clung to her. She wouldn’t be Ma without that scent. He remembered gathering wild roses every summer for her to make sachets for her bureau drawers. He dropped his arms as she bustled over to the cookstove, then offered him a plate piled high with food. His mouth watered as he took it from her and sat between Shane and Jacob.
    Hannah came hurrying in as Rand took his first sip of strong, hot coffee. Her face brightened as she saw Rand shoveling another forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Now I am sure it’s really you.” She slipped into the chair opposite him. “The brother I remember is always eating.”
    Rand, a wicked grin on his face, caught Jacob’s eye and gave a meaningful nod. “How come you’re still here, anyway, Sis? Thought you would have trapped yourself a husband by now.”
    â€œCome on, Rand. Be realistic.” Jacob poked him with an elbow. “Who would have her? She has always been the ugliest Campbell.”
    Rand stared at his sister. “Yeah, I forgot about that big nose of hers. And all that hair.”
    â€œNot to mention her temper! Her tongue could cut a man to ribbons.” Jacob grinned at the rising color on Hannah’s face.
    Rand knew they’d get a reaction when they hit on her sore spot. She was always moaning about her nose. Personally, Rand didn’t see anything wrong with it, but she seemed to think it didn’t match the pert ones described in her favorite novels.
    She flushed a deep red, then burst into tears.
    â€œHey, I’m sorry, Sis.” Rand hadn’t