Faith of the Heart (19 page)

             
“
Mister
, are you Sheriff Maxwell?” he gasped, hunched at the waist to catch his
breath.

             
Maxwell nodded and
t
he boy thrust a yellow telegram into his hand. “This j
e
st came for y
a
Sheriff.”

             
Tom
tipped
the boy a
nickel
and the small
messenger
grinned widely.

“Gee, thanks mister.” He
scooted
down the street as Tom ripped open the envelope.

             
He quickly scanned the message and then re-read it again slowly:
             

Claire Abducted Yesterday. Store Vandalized. Headed West? Percy.

             
His heart froze as his temper boiled. Maxwell took off sprinting to the livery stable. He snagged the first stable boy he saw.

“You there, help me saddle my horses.” The boy looked at him, dumbstruck. “Now!” Maxwell shouted,
startling him.
The stable hand leapt up from
his chores.
“
Yes sir
.
” From the look of fury on the sheriff’s face he wasn’t about to argue.

             
As soon as his mount was ready, Maxwell was astride
the
saddle and pounding down Cheney Street, headed back to Omaha. As he rode, his mind was churning out possible routes the kidnapper
could
have taken.
If
he was headed west, he’d
probably
be
using the old trail
, commonly
known
as the Oregon Trail,
about 40 miles north of Tom’s present location. The Oregon
T
rail headed slightly south and then swung west across the Nebraska prairie. If Tom rode north, there was a possibility he could intercept them. The chances were slight, but he had nothing else to go on.

             
All that day Maxwell rode hard. When one horse got winded, he switched to the other. A good saddle horse could cover 50 to 60 miles in a day and Tom meant to wring every mile he could out of these animals. He wished he was riding his
tough
er
Morgans, but the bays would have to do. When evening came, even Maxwell had to stop and rest. His back and arms ached. It wasn’t easy to ride one horse and hold onto the reins of another mile after mile.

             
Estimating he had covered 40 miles or so,
Maxwell
lit a fire and boiled some beans and coffee. While the food was cooking, he wiped down the bays and hobbled their front feet so they could graze on the tender summer grass
.

             
Tom
spread out his blanket and tried to sleep with his head propped on the saddle
,
but was having little luck.
Pulling the rumpled telegram from his front shirt pocket he scanned it over and over, trying to read between the lines.

             
Okay, it says the store’
s
been ransacked, Claire abducted, so she’s alive or at least she was alive. Stop!
O
f course, she’s alive! She has to be!

             
Waves of nausea licked at his insides as he took a swallow from his canteen.
He’d been scared many times during the war for his own safety
,
but tonight he was scared for Claire’s.
Darn,
he
had
warned her th
at the
country was wild and unpredictable and Omaha was still a frontier town. Whoever had taken her was going to pay,
was gonna do some hard time.
 

 
             
Maxwell
had
put many unsavory characters put behind bars. He didn’t enjoy locking men up but sometimes, for the good of the public, it had to be done. This time there would be no regrets.
Exhaustion finally overcame him, but Maxwell slept fitfully,
nearly
frantic
about Claire.

             
Tuesday he was up at dawn and on his way north. His plan was to ride until he hit the trail
and
then head east to intercept the crooks as they tried to make their escape. The problem was he really
didn’t know what he was up against. How many men were there? Was Claire actually with them or had she been injured and left somewhere? For all he knew, she could be dead by now.

Maxwell pushed that last thought away. Claire was smart enough to keep her
wits about her and use her head.
She
had to know that
someone—
t
hat he—would
come rescue her. He could
n’t focus if he
thought
she might be dead.
             
             
             
If
P
ercy was tracking from Omaha, they’d likely meet up somewhere on the Oregon Trail. That thought kept him going. By late afternoon he reached the trail and was headed east toward Omaha. Along the way he stopped two wagons of pioneers
,
searched
four farms and ranches
but
no one had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. The only thing to do was to keep riding.

Just as the sun went down, the pink glow fading behind him, he came upon Percy. His young deputy was on foot, leading his horse and studying the trail for signs.
Tom slid off his bay and grabbed Simons
on
by the shoulders.

             
“Well?
A
ny sign of Claire?”
Percy
shook his head
, sorrow showing in his eyes.

“Sorry sheriff
.
I’ve been walking and riding since Sunday afternoon. There is a recent wagon track, but that could be just about anybody heading west.”

             
“I know, I stopped two wagons myself earlier today,” Maxwell scowled. “My horses are worn out and so am I. Let’s ride back to my place and get some shuteye. Tomorrow I’ll set out again and you go back to town. She may show up. Besides, we can’t leave the town unprotected; some other
ruffians
could
ride in
and make trouble while we’re gone.”

             
Simons
on
nodded
, his brow furrowed with exhaustion.
“Okay sheriff, maybe there’ll be some news in town.” They swung up once again on their tired mounts, Tom still leading his spare, and they headed to his little ranch on Omaha’s outskirts.

             
It was midnight
by the time they corralled the horses and headed to the main house to rest.
Linus,
having heard them ride in, joined Maxwell and Simons
on
at the table after he wiped their horses down. Pouring himself a steaming cup of coffee, he straddled a chair as Percy finished catching Tom up on the search effort.
 

             
As Percy spoke, somet
hing pricked Linus’ memory
.
“
She was taken
Sunday, you say?”

Percy nodded and
Linus wrapped his fingers around his mug and took another slug of the hot brew.

“Sunday night I was up late working on our refrigerated car idea and I swear I smelled camp fire smoke over past the north fence line. You don’t suppose
¼
”

             
The three men looked at each other. A faint glimmer of hope ignited in Tom’s chest.

             
“It’s too dark to see anything tonight. Tomorrow I’ll ride over there and see what I can find.”

             
Linus excused himself and headed back to his room in the barn. Percy sacked out on one of the horsehair sofas, a wool blanket tossed over his chest
.
Tom sat up awhile,
relieved
to be in his own home, but
fitful in his concern for
Claire. He finally went to bed at 2:00 AM, only to dream of Claire calling out for him.

             
Maxwell awoke at dawn to the sounds of
pots clinking
and the smell of bacon cooking. He stumbled into the kitchen to
find Linus and Percy already
awake
.
His deputy was devouring a stack of flapjacks and a pile of crispy bacon. He washed it down with a
huge
swig of coffee and looked up at Tom.

             
“Morning boss.
Thought I’d ride out with you to that campfire site before I head back to town.” Tom grunted and slid
into his chair
. Linus handed him a plate and sat down to his own breakfast.

             
“
Eat up so you can
get on your way sooner.”

             
“Linus, I appreciate that. You’re a blessing.”

             
Maxwell’s forthright gratitude took
Linus
by surprise
. He’d known Captain Maxwell a long time
but h
e’d never seen him so emotional before.
While it was obvious that
the captain was courting Miss Secord
he
didn’t realize it was serious. Claire must be something truly special for
Captain Maxwell
to get
so
sentimental.

Linus
pointed his cup at
Maxwell.
“Captain, anything you need, I’ll do my best for you.”

             
Tom smiled grat
e
fully.
“Linus, I’m proud to have you as my friend and business partner. What I need from you is to stay here, run the ranch, and keep your eyes open. Maybe these bums are still in the area. Keep the rifles loaded and your service revolver handy.”

             
“Yessir, Captain, you can count on me!” Linus pushed away from the table, gathered up the dishes and set about putting the kitchen in order.

             
Tom and Percy headed to the barn and saddled their horses. Then they headed to the north side of the ranch to
search for
any signs of a recent campfire.

CHAPTER F
IFTEEN

Omaha, Nebraska, August 1869
             
             
             
             
             

             
Billy pushed aside the curtains and opened the door for business at
Weikert-
Secord’s Mercantile. Claire
m
ight
be
missing, but he had faith she’d be back. When she came back he’d want to show her he’d been able to keep the store running. The town people depended on her for their needs and she depended on them, so he decided he’d step in and do what he could. Miss Rose would come in and g
i
ve him advice when he had questions and so far everything was going pretty well.

             
Claire’s disappearance had caused a big stir in town. People gathered to conjure up
scenarios
of exactly how she disappeared, and if they were going to gossip, Billy figured they might as well do it in her store and make her some money out of the deal. The crowd didn’t disappoint him. As soon as the door was propped open in the early morning sunshine
,
folks began to stream in
.
Some were genuinely
concerned;
others just came to gawk and gossip. Billy put on his most charming smile
,
and as people stood around
,
he encouraged them to make their purchases, since they were in the store anyway, and Secord’s always stocked everything they needed.

             
Connie Rose checked in around noon to let
Billy
know there was a scrap of good news. Percy had just ridden back into town and handed her a strip of torn calico that was the same print as Claire’s gardening dress.
Then he turned right around and left again.
She urged Billy to keep the information under his hat
and his ears open.
Satisfied
,
Billy
had everything under
control
,
she left him to care for
her
restaurant.