Faith of the Heart (12 page)

             
To help earn his keep,
and exercise
his body, the recuperating
ex-
soldier began to repair Cassie’s
dilapidated
old
cabin
. He re-chinked the spaces
between
the logs with a mud and
clay mixture designed to keep out the cold. He tanned the
deer
hides to be used as warm coverings during the cold nights. He rebuilt the old chicken coop and added a small porch to the front of the house. He wanted to make the old lady’s life easier as thanks for saving him and sheltering him for so long. He knew he could never truly repay her for her kindness, but at least he could try.
He didn’t have many friends in his life,
none now
that
Cal
eb
Davidson was gone and he was Cal
vin
Moore,
so Cass
ie
was all the more special.
But really
how could you
repay
someone who had saved you
mentally and physically
             
             
             
             
By now his wounds were healed, but the nightmares continued. Cass
ie
would wake in the night to his mumblings and thrashings. She soothed his brow with a cool washrag and eventually he’d sleep while she sat and watched over him with worried eyes. In the mornings, she’d try to coax him into talking about the dreams, but he refused. He didn’t want to share the horrors he relived in his sleep
.
It was bad enough he’d encroached on
Cassie’s
privacy, he didn’t want to give her nightmares, too. How could he tell her he kept dreaming of men with limbs blown off, or that he kept calling for Claire while sprawled on the ground, unable to walk
,
think or c
ontrol
his fate? It was better not to talk about the dreams at all.

When April 1865 finally arrived amid warm breezes
and fragrant flowers
, Cassie
left for
town again. The two had depleted the supply of flour and coffee and Cal was anxious for new
s
of the war
.
It had been months since they’d read a
current
paper or even stepped
out of the woods,
and he had to know how the north was faring,
if
the war was over, one way or another.
Just yesterday
h
e and Cass
ie
thought they heard cannon fire off in the distance.
Cal worried about the possibility, however faint, of nearby troops finding
his safe haven.
             
             
             
             
             
             
             
             
             
             

The war had been
raging
since 1861 and nearly every man between the ages of 18 and 50 had been inducted into the Union or Confederate arm
ies.
As the war
continued, more and more men
slipped away either to return home or head west to disappear. A young man like himself
could seem
suspicious if he wasn’t in the service. He
c
ould be pegged as a deserter and brought up on charges
.
Cal, remember
ed
what they did to deserters
and
shuddered
at the thought.
He had no intention of being stood up in front of a firing squad
,
but he did not want to be a virtual prisoner in Cassie’s shack either. Hopefully the feisty old woman would return with good news.
   

             
The afternoon was sunny and mild, a light breeze playing at the tops of the trees, which were just starting to
burst with buds.
Cal decided to
risk
tak
ing
the rifle out and hunt some fresh meat for dinner. It had been
weeks
since they’d had food that wasn’t tough or dry or stale from the harsh winter cold and time spent in the cellar. Cassie had promised to make biscuits if Cal would kill a squirrel or two for the stew pot. Cal, for his part, was feeling better and his wounds had healed nicely. He had stopped getting
so many
migraines from the head wound, and though he would always walk with a limp, he had escaped gangrene
and amputation
. Warm sun soothed his leg and his mood was lighter than usual.  He was no longer having nightmares every night, which made him feel more fit and rested than he had in months.

Striding through the woods, Cal began to whistle a jaunty tune and admire the early green
undergrowth
and budding trees. He was about five miles from the cabin when he heard the
high clear
barking of a
hunting
dog and the shout of men’s voices. Startled, he stood still. Had they heard him? Cursing silently, he
searched
for a place to hide.

A hundred ya
rds away
there
was a clump of scraggly
yews. Behind them
stood
a rock outcropping he’d played on as a child. A memory flashed—there was a small cave in those rocks where he had pretended to be a bear.
He thought
he
could
still
wedge himself in there. Crouching low
,
he ran
lopsided
for the cave
as fast as his good leg would carry him.
Curling up tightly,
Cal
managed to get himself and his rifle hidden behind the yews
.
                          

             
   
A
hound dog and two scruffy soldiers pushed into the area. “Jer
e
miah, I swear I heard some whistling, I swear! Lookit how old Bullit here is sniffing the ground. Someone’s been here.” The yellow hound was eagerly pawing the
earth
and running from tree to tree trying to catch Cal’s scent. Cal scarcely breathed
and h
is heart pounded
in his ears
.
I
t sounded so loud he was sure the dog would hear it and give him away.

             
“Now Ephraim, I didn’t hear nothin’, and neither did you unless it was the wind. That stupid
ol’
dog probably smells rabbit or something. Nobody’d be out in these woods. You been hittin’ the bottle again?”

             
Ephraim scowled
.
“Lookee here, you idiot. If someone is in these woods they don’t want ta be found. There’s gotta be a reason for it. Could be a runaway, ya know. Could be some slave trying
to
get to Canada. Or it could be
a deserter.
Fellers are
running off
every day. I could use some of that there reward money. Don’t matter to me if they
be
white or colored. Money is money.”

             
Jer
e
miah nodded
eagerly at the mention of a possible rew
ard
.
“Well then let’s just look around some.”

             
T
he two
spent several minutes scanning the forest floor for tracks
. The hound had wandered closer and closer to Cal’s hiding place, but the
men
didn’t seem notice in their eagerness to spot something themselves. The ground was wet and covered with last fall’s leaves and they
did not seem experienced
at
reading signs. Cal, curled into a fetal position, tried to see if they were
R
ebs or
Y
anks
before
realiz
ing
it didn’t matter. If they were
R
ebs he’d be taken prisoner and sent to a camp like Andersonville
to
die there. If they were yanks he’d be charged as a deserter and be shot by his own company commander. Either way he was
in a bad spot.
He began to pray.

             
The dog was
only
about twenty feet from his hiding spot.

This is it,
thought Cal.
Maybe I’d just better surrender and take my chances.
He began to slowly uncurl himself and was reaching to part the yews when the mutt suddenly yelped and took off running. A strong odor assaulted his nostrils. The dog had discovered a skunk’s den and got sprayed right in the face. Cal froze. His eyes began to burn
but he kept still, more thankful for the awful stench than he had been of anything else in his life.

             
“
Woo wee
, that d
arn
dog found hisself a skunk. Let’s get
on outta
here,” Jere
m
iah hollered.
“
There ain’t no one here. Well,
at least now maybe you’ll take a bath
, Ephraim.” He chuckled as his friend wrinkled his nose and spat on a tree.

             
“You could do with some soap yourself
.
You ain’t been
smelling like no flower neither.”

             
The two men followed after the dog and pushed off into another part of the woods. Cal stayed put. He
breathed
a prayer of thanks and waited till dark. When he was sure the men were long gone he slipped home,
stinking to high heaven.

             
Cassie
was waiting
at the door with
scrawny
arms crossed over her waist.

             
“Land sakes, boy. Now where have
¼
”
She stopped when she saw the exhaustion in his eyes.

             
“Cass, they nearly found me. I was such a fool.”

             
Cassie’s eyes softened. “Now, now, you’re okay. You’re safe
.” She wrinkled her nose as the smell of ripe skunk assaulted her senses.”B
ut
you are
not coming into my home smelling like that.” She stepped into the cabin and brought out a bar of homemade soap and an old towel. “Wash yourself in the spring and I’ll put supper on. Leave them clothes outside. Tomorrow we’ll get the stink out. I’ll put out a fresh set of clothes. Now git.”

             
An hour later, Cal was clean and enjoying a simple supper of eggs and
ham
. He recanted his afternoon while the old lady
pushed second helpings at him
and listened
thoughtfully.

             
“You took an awful chance, son. I could
a
come back and you’d a been gone and I’d a never know
ed
what became of you.”
Her voice cracked and trembled
as she set down the battered coffee pot
.

             
Tears began to fill her eyes. Cal slid his arm tenderly around her bony shoulders. 
             

             
“Now
,
old lady
.
I’m here so let’s not talk about it any longer. I guess I just have to be more careful. Now tell me what news you got from town
.
”  

CHAPTER
NINE

Omaha, Nebraska,
May 1868

             
Claire spent much of the evening hunched over the sheath of papers she’d gotten from Mr. Dawson. She had to figure out how to solve the problem without forfeiting her property to the bank. She wondered how Caleb would have handled things, and immediately had her answer. She stood, stretched, and
smiled with delight.

Mr.
Dawson you thought you had me lock, stock
,
and barrel
.
What you don’t know is that I studied along with my fiancé, a law student, and learned a few things
.The store is mine and will stay mine.
Humming softly, she went to bed and slept more soundly than she had in weeks.