Faith of the Heart (17 page)

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Authors: Jewell Tweedt

BOOK: Faith of the Heart
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“Sh
u
t up you
fool;
there’ll be time for that later.”

             
Claire stiffened under the blanket. She would cut them before she let them touch her. She might be outnumbered, but she’d fight before she would let herself give up. She said a quick prayer of deliverance and tried to settle her mind.

Calm down, listen to the sounds, figure out which way they’re going and start trying to come up with a plan.
Claire tried to listen to the horses’ hooves to know which direction they were traveling, but it was impossible to tell.

             
I’ve got to see where we’re going. Maybe if they stop I can escape.
Silently, she pleaded they would stop at a saloon and get drunk, but they kept plodding onward. Clearly they were in a hurry to get wherever it was they were headed, and they were probably nervous about the stolen cargo in the back of their wagon.

After a few minutes, Claire got up the nerve to slowly lift up the edge of the blanket with her shoulder, but she couldn’t see over the wagon’s tall side. She lay quietly and tried to hear
their
conversation in the hope that they would reveal their destination. Claire didn’t know what she would do when she found out where they were going, but she thought it was better than not knowing at all.
Straining her ears, she could only make out bits of their argument as they quietly debated what to do with her. She sent up one last fervent prayer that Sheriff Maxwell would miraculously ride to her rescue and catch the thieves red-handed before
she
drift
ed off
into a fitful sleep.

             
Claire awoke disoriented and soaked with sweat, her mouth cottony and shoved full of cloth. The memories of that afternoon flooded back to her and a sob caught in her throat, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was still bound up in the wagon, but it had stopped moving. The rough horse blanket stank and Claire felt like she was suffocating from sleeping all afternoon in the summer heat. When her panic passed and her eyes finally ran out of tears, she managed to kick the smelly covering off. She could hear the two crooks
arguing a
s they sat near a campfire.

             
“I say we keep on goin’. We gots to get further away from town th
a
n this.”
Frank
chugged from a whiskey bottle and wiped his mouth with a dirty hand.
Bud
glared at him and grabbed for the bottle. After taking a long swig he replied, “We gone far enough. That ole wagon seat
is
busting my rump
and the rear wheel’s about to fall off.
Besides, nobody’s gonna miss this spinster lady ‘till tomorrow and we’ll be long gone by then.
Get off your lazy behind and go grease up that wheel. I’ll tend the fire.”

Frank rose slowly, uncurled his lanky frame and mumbled under his breath
“F
ive miles, I bet we done gone only five miles.

Claire’s mind raced.
Five miles, that’s about how far Tom’s ranch is from town. Did we go west? Could we be near it?
I have to get out of this wagon
!
 
             
             
The aroma of hot coffee and frying bacon made her stomach rumble. She began to struggle and managed to sit upright. Claire tried to call out, but the gag in her mouth allowed only a few grunts to escape. Frank looked up from
the wagon wheel he was repairing
and leered at her.

             
Bud swallowed
the last of his whiskey
and hauled himself up from the fire. He
lumbered
over to the wagon and peered at Claire. She did her best not to show fear and glared back.

             
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt none to give you some supper. I got to keep our girl healthy. Now don’t scream cuz I hate screamin’. Besides no one’s gonna hear ya out here anyways.”

             
Claire nodded. He untied the gap and she worked her mouth, stretching her jaw and trying to get the saliva to flow again.

“Please untie my hands, I need to, uh, relieve myself.” She blushed furiously.

             
Bud just grunted and untied the rope. He pointed to some trees a few yards away.

             
“Won’t do you no good to run girly. There ain’t nothing out here but wolves and coyotes.”

             
Claire
peere
d around. They
were
out in the middle of nowhere.
Afternoon had slid into early evening and shadows began to lengthen.
She sighed and headed for the trees
searching for any signs they were near the ranch house.
There,
wasn’t that the ridge behind the ranch? A surge of hope rose through her chest,
but
was quickly replaced by despair.
They could be anywhere.
Determinedly s
he pushed it aside and thrust her chin out.
I will not let them see me scared. I’ll have to outsmart them. Why, oh why didn’t I listen to Tom and Connie when they tried to tell me to be more careful?

After taking care of her bodily needs
,
she returned to the fire and squatted down. The
evening
had turned cool and she was only wearing the old calico dress and shawl she’d had on while working in the garden. The heat felt good
on her skin
and she was ravenous. 

             
Frank handed her a plate of beans and bacon and a tin mug of coffee. Never had such
plain
food tasted so good, even if it was stolen from her
own store. She tried to eat slowly; she didn’t want her hands bound up any sooner than necessary. When she finished, she gathered up the mugs and plates and wiped them clean with an old rag. The men didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her and she tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. They were smoking pipes and talking quietly. She inched closer to them as she wiped down the utensils, straining to hear, but she couldn’t get
near
enough to make anything out.
When she
finished
Claire
sat at the far side of the fire against a fallen log and tried to come up with a plan.

             
As the
embers
burned down, Bud came toward her with the rope and tied her hands in front of her.   

             
“Git some shut
-
eye girly, we’re moving on at first light.”

             
Claire made no sound, hoping he’d forget to gag her
and he did. She ducked her head so he wouldn’t see her slight smile before she realized that no one could hear her scream anyway. Her spirits dropped. She curled up on the hard
-
packed earth and
eventually
fell asleep hunched into a tight ball, dreaming of a tall sheriff
riding to her rescue
.

*
**

             
Connie banged on the front door of
Weikert-
Secord’s Mercantile
,
her eyebrows etched into a frown.
It wasn’t like Claire to not be open first thing Monday morning. Connie had been baking a batch of muffins for her restaurant and needed more flour.

             
“Claire!” She continued to pound on the door for another few minutes. When that failed to work, she
raced
around the side of the building
stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of the open back door.
Her first thought was that Claire could be injured—or worse, dead—on the floor somewhere inside the building. She quickly checked each room of the house, pausing to
look
behind shelves and under the bed
.
It soon
became clear that Claire was nowhere inside,
and Connie, thankful that there was still hope, slammed the door behind her and
t
ook
off at a dead run for the sheriff’s office.

             
“Percy, Tom!” she hollered as she fl
inging
open the door to the jail. “Come quick, something

s wrong, something’s terribly wrong!”

             
Percy looked up from his paperwork. “Connie, honey, what is it? Catch your breath and tell me
.

             
Connie held onto the desk and gasped, “Claire’s back door was wide open but the shop is closed. I’m afraid, Percy, I’m afraid.”

             
“Did you go inside
? S
he could
a
just stepped down the street for a bit.”

             

Yes
!
I went inside and I checked everywhere. The store has been trashed and she’s gone!
Where
’s Tom?”

             
“Honey,
Tom had to escort a prisoner to Lincoln. He’ll be back tomorrow but meanwhile I’ll go have a look. I’m sure it’s nothing
.

             
Connie nodded but she was not convinced.

I’m going back with you.”

             
Percy shook his head and strapped on his gun belt. “No,
now
go back to the café.

  Connie ignored his request and followed him into the street.

             
“Connie, go back to the café, I’m not telling you again.”

             

No, you’re not.
I know Claire better than just about anybody in this town
so I’m not just gonna leave
.
I’ll stay out of your way.”
Percy grunted and kept moving down the street in
quick
strides
;
Connie
had to
half run
to keep up with him. When he got to Claire’s back door he cocked his pistol and motioned Connie to keep behind him. Quietly they stepped into the kitchen and moved into the parlor.
When he was sure it was clear, h
e strode
into the bedroom
and froze at the sight of the trashed
r
oom. Dresser drawers were
tossed haphazardly
on the floor and clothing had been scattered about. The bed linens had been yanked off the bed and tossed into a heap.

             
“Oh Percy, this doesn’t look good at all,
didn’t I tell you?
” Connie breathed.

             
“Shhh, Connie, let me do my job
.

             
The deputy turned on his heels, raced
through
the
rooms
and into the store.
He
took in the sight of spilled flour, sugar, empty cartridge boxes and the open cash register.

             
“Connie, we got us
a
robbery.
Probably they took Claire with ‘em seein’ as there’s no sign of her here.
Don’t touch anything. We’ve got to get notice to the sheriff and I’ve got to start trying to track her down. When was the last time you saw her?”

             

A
t church yesterday morning.
She was going to catch up on some gardening in the afternoon.”

             
“Okay then. We’ll lock this place up and I’ll get to work.”

             
Connie
swallowed back a tear
, grasped Percy’s hand and squeezed it hard.


Go get ‘em honey and bring back our Claire.”

             
“You know I will
,
Connie, you can bet the farm on it.”

 

             
             
             
             

 

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

Baltimore, Maryland, A
ugust 1869

 

             
Cal took a final look around his room as he fastened the clasp on his cloth satchel.

Looks like I’ve got everything,
he thought. The bells of a nearby church pealed their 12:00 song as he grabbed up the satchel and his leather work pouch.
Mustn’t miss that train
. He limped down the stairs and
handed
his elderly landlady a
large money order.
“I’ll wire you as to when I’ll be returning.” She smiled
smugly
and tucked
the
year’s worth of rent into her apron pocket.

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