Faith of the Heart (25 page)

Tom smiled at her thoughtfulness, “Sure, I’ve been meaning to help him build on another room.
That’s a great idea.”

             
“Oh good. Do you think he’d let me bring him some household goods? Some linens, maybe a couple of new blankets?

             
Laughing again, Tom shifted in his saddle. “You’d have to ask him. We’re just a couple of bachelors out there. As for me, I’m looking forward to having a woman’s touch
to spruce up the place
.” He winked. “A touch and about a thousand of those kisses from last night.”
        

             
Claire’s cheeks flushed
,
but she
turned and smiled. “I didn’t realize what a rogue you were
.”

             
“My dear, you have no idea.”
Tom’s eyes crinkled with delight.
  They made good progress that day. Evening found them camped
in
an abandoned cabin Tom had
found on his way to Columbus.
He
lit a fire and they warmed up the food Mrs. Shipp had prepared for them earlier that day. It was wonderful; fried chicken, biscuits and jam and strong
fragrant
tea.
After eating they curled up on their bedrolls and watched the flames crackle merrily.

“Claire, you have been very quiet today. Is everything alright?”

Tom tipped her face up and looked lovingly into her eyes.

“Yes, yes everything is fine. I’m just a bit tired is all. I’m not
used to being on horseback all day.” Claire turned and
opened her arms to him.

             
“Hmmm. That’s all I needed.” She sig
h
ed with pleasure as she lay in his arms.

They lounged in silence for a bit and Claire began to dream of her new future until Maxwell broke her reverie.

“
Sweetie, let’s
get some
shut
-
eye
. If we ride hard tomorrow
,
we’ll be back at my ranch by

nightfall.
The next day you can ride on in to Omaha with me. I’m
sure you’ll be happy to see your own home and the store.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY

Florence Train Depot
,
near Omaha
, August 1869

             
“Omaha, Omaha!” The conductor’s booming voice roused
Cal from his sleep. He stood
and
stretched his lame leg
, gathering
his belongings. Climbing down to the platform
,
he looked around with
boredom
. He
generally
enjoyed coming to new towns
,
but this one didn’t impress him. It was s
ummer
and a pleasant enough
day
,
but from what he could see, Omaha was
un
remarkable.

             
People were bustling by, streets weren’t paved,
and
houses were
plain, downright

ordinary. There seemed to be an abundance of saloons.
As he wandered down the street, keeping an eye out for the town jail, he wondered sullenly why anyone would want to live here. He went through the details of the meeting in his mind. He would be meeting
the deputy
at the jail,
where he would get directions to the homestead of Linus Mason’s
employer, where the ice car had been invented. He set his bag on the ground, consulting his notebook for the name of the homesteader—Thomas Maxwell.

             
Stowing the notebook back in the satchel, he continued to walk, glancing at the small
businesses
and homes that lined the streets.

He
noticed a large sign
, freshly painted,
on a storefront
—
Weikert-
Secord’s Fine Mercantile. His
heart
pounded loudly in his ears
and he involuntarily
snatched
at the gold pendant a
round
his neck. He rubbed the half
-
heart as his mind raced.

             
Secord
—
that was, is, Claire’s last name. Just a coincidence
, he reassured himself.

             
Of cou
r
se there had to be mo
re Secords around. Just because
he’d never met any besides Claire’s family didn’t mean they
couldn’t
exist.
The thought of her family struck a chord in his memory.
Claire had an aunt and uncle in Omaha
,
and
their last name was Weikert.
Goosebumps popped up on his arms
as he re-read the sign.
He shivered.
His heart began to thump erratically.

             
Coincidence.
Has to be j
ust a coincidence.

He started to walk past the front door
,
but paused.

             
A peek, I’ll just take a peek inside.

             
The door was open and he stepped onto the threshold.
Scanning the room
,
he saw
some
women examining bolts of cloth and a young man at the counter weighing coffee beans.
Cal
realized he’d been holding his breath and
quickly
exhaled.
He backed out of the store
, chuckling at his own paranoia.

             
It was ridiculous to think, even for a momen
t
,
that Claire would be
in this hick frontier town.
She was a classy, eastern
born and bred woman.
Why
,
she was probably still back in Gettysburg
,
teaching those
rowdy
Buckley
kids.

             
He walked a few more paces until he found himself at the
jail. Inside
,
he introduced himself to the deputy
,
who explained
that
the sheriff was out of town on business
,
but was expected back at his ranch that evening. Deputy Simons
on
wrote down directions to the Maxwell ranch and pointed out the livery stable to Cal so he
could rent a horse for the trip.

             
Cal thanked the lawman and
h
eaded
out, finding
it
surprisingly
pleasant to be on horseback
after so many long hours on the train
. The late afternoon was mild and the land looked lush and green. Cal began to reevaluate his opinion of Nebraska.
He’d read that it was called the Great American Desert
,
but the plains he was riding through
were
anything but.

             
Birds were singing and flitting about, wildflowers were blooming
exuberantly,
and the wide open spaces were somehow comforting.
After four years in Baltimore, Cal had
almost forgotten what it was like to live outside of a city.

 
             
Cal rode up to the ranch
,
followed a tree lined lane
,
and
stiffly
swung down from his horse.
Tying the reins to
a
corral post
,
he looked around. The place was extremely tidy and well-maintained. The barn was made of hand-hewn timbers, medium sized with what looked like an attached room.
Behind it were several small out buildings and  a large garden: he could make out rows of corn,
bright green
and waving in the breeze, hills of beans, and pumpkins just beginning to turn orange. Beyond the garden were several cattle on a hill so far away
they
look
ed
like brown dots.

             
The ranch house
was
also
fashioned from hand-hewn timbers
,
weathered to a soft gray.
It was a good size, one floor with large glass windows and a porch that spanned the entire length of the
front. Two cane rockers sat invitingly on the porch with a small table between. Someone had planted wild rose bushes along the porch and they were in full bloom, vivid hues of pink and red.
It was a welcoming place, a place someone could call home. Cal’s own rooms back in Baltimore came to mind. All of a sudden they seemed shabby and forlorn.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a greeting from Linus Mason.
             
   
  
             
             
             
             
“Hello,
welcome to the
Maxwell Ranch. I’m the one who wrote the letter.
”
Linus said, grasping his hand and shaking it firmly. “I
’
m afraid
the
Captain, er
,
Sheriff Maxwell
,
isn’t back yet
,
but I am expecting him at any moment. He
’
s bringing his lady friend back
from out west. She’s
just
been through a terrible
ordeal.”

             
With that Linus changed the subject
,
not wanting to invade on Claire’s privacy.
The two men visited for a few moments
,
enjoying
strong
black coffee
. Linus then suggested they go see the ice car prototype so that Cal could write his story. They headed to the barn and were in
deep discussion when the sounds of horses
drifted from the
barnyard.

 
             
“
That’ll be Tom
, and his lady
” said Linus
,
looking up from the
papers on the desk. “I’d best go help them care for the horses.
They’re bound to be tired and hungry.
They’ve been riding for two days.
”

             
Cal, busily scratching notes for his newspaper column, nodded.
“Fine, fine, I am looking forward to meeting Mr. Maxwell and
Miss
¼
what did you say her name was?”

             
“
I didn’t. It’s Miss
Secord
.
Miss Claire Secord
.
S
he owns the mercantile in
t
own
.”

             
Cal stumbled as he stood, turning as white as an ivory statue. Linus
reached
out
to grab
him, catching his shoulder before he collapsed.

             
“Mr. Moore! Are you alright?!” Linus
exclaimed
, alarmed.

  
             
Cal shook off his shock, not wanting to give himself away.
“
Yes, yes
, I
’m
fine. Just a bit tired is all.
Dizzy spells—I’ve had them since the war.”

             
He sat down heavily at the desk. Linus gave him a
puzzled
backward
glance and headed out the door.   

 
             
“Captain
Maxwell, Miss Secord,
it’s great to see you!
”
He pumped
his partner’s hand
and gave Claire a quick squeeze.
She hugged him back, delighted at his unexpected warmth.

             
“Linus, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to be back among friends
!
” She glanced at
Maxwell
and smiled. He returned the smile and handed the reins of their mounts to Linus.