Land of My Heart (2 page)

Read Land of My Heart Online

Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #ebook

BOOK: Land of My Heart
13.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The man took her silence as acceptance. “There. Ain’t so hard, is it? Just be nice to old Charley and he’ll be nice to you.”

Dianne drew a deep breath. “Unhand me.”

Charley seemed surprised by this. He studied her for a moment, then began to laugh. His companions joined in as if Dianne had shared some joke.

She lifted her skirt slightly and kicked her captor hard in the shin. This caused him to release his grip long enough for her to move away. She reached the store’s front door just as Charley reached out again and yanked at her long hair.

Dianne screamed out in pain, alerting not only her father but several soldiers who were inside the store.

“Let her go!” her father demanded as Charley played a sort of tug-of-war with Dianne. Lightning flashed in the sky and a light sprinkle of rain splattered the dusty street.

“You heard the man,” a soldier Dianne knew as Captain Seager stated as he drew his revolver.

To Dianne’s surprise, Charley did let go. Her father swiftly pushed her inside the store. Dianne nearly lost her footing but caught herself against the counter as thunder boomed outside. The storm was upon them.

“What’s going on?” her mother questioned as she emerged from the back room.

“I … ah … well, there’s some men out there and Pa—” Lightning, more intense and brilliant, illuminated the darkened day as a dozen shots rang out. Dianne had no chance to finish her statement as her mother pushed past her and ran outside. Her pounding heart was heavy with fear.

“Who’s shootin’ guns?” her ten-year-old sister, Ardith, called out. The youngest in the family, Betsy, was right behind her. “Is the war here?”

“Both of you stay there!” Dianne commanded. “I’ll see what’s happened.”

The boardwalk outside the store, so unassuming moments before, looked like a battlefield littered with the bodies of the fallen. The storm, churning and rolling, blotted out much of the sun’s light.

Stunned, Dianne leaned back against the building for support. Thunder cracked again, shaking the very foundation beneath her feet. The rain began to pour in earnest and the soldiers hurried to clear the boardwalk of bodies. A few feet away her mother knelt beside her father. A trickle of blood spilled from a hole in the middle of his head.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Captain Seager said as he crouched down beside Susannah Chadwick. “Your husband was caught in the cross fire.”

Rain poured over her, matting her once-delicately styled hair to her face. “No doubt,” Susannah said in a whisper. “But whose cross fire, I wonder?” Lightning streaked across the sky, the thunder exploding on top of it. Her gaze was fierce. “My husband’s a victim of this war just as sure as if he’d been wearing a Southern uniform. Your people care for nothing but themselves.” She then touched her fingers to the wound and began to sob. “Look what you’ve done. Look what you’ve done.”

Dianne pulled her apron to her mouth and fought back her own tears. Her stomach cramped as she placed her hands over her eyes.
If only I hadn’t gone to the bank—if only I would have taken Trenton or one of the other boys
.

She watched the soldiers lift her father’s lifeless body and carry it into the store. They’d no sooner cleared the threshold when hail pummeled the streets. A twister was sure to follow.

CHAPTER 1

D
IANNE ANXIOUSLY WAITED WITH HER SIBLINGS AROUND THE FAMILY
dining table as their mother considered their request. With their father gone nearly a month and store responsibilities mounting, Dianne had pursued the one idea that seemed to make sense.

“Move to the Idaho Territory?” Susannah questioned.

Dianne spoke with confidence. “I’ve been in touch with a wagon master who will lead a train west in about ten days. They’ll head out from St. Louis, so we need to act quickly.”

“But to just up and sell off everything and leave?” her mother asked, looking at each of her children.

“We can’t leave New Madrid,” Dianne’s oldest brother, Trenton, spoke. “I don’t mean to leave here until I’ve avenged Pa’s death.”

“Don’t talk that way, Trenton. There will be no revenge,” their mother declared, tears coming to her eyes. “I’ve already lost Ephraim; I’m not about to lose you too.”

“That’s why moving to your brother’s place is so important, Mother. It will get the boys away from the war. You know how Captain Seager is constantly badgering them to join the Union as soon as they’re of age. Before you know it, they won’t have any choice but to choose sides.”

“I wouldn’t fight for the Union,” Trenton declared. “I think they had more to do with Pa’s death than they’re letting on.”

“But you can’t be sure,” his mother interjected. “No one is certain whose bullet took your father’s life. I don’t like the Union any more than you do, but I can’t hold them wholly responsible for Ephraim’s death.”

Dianne’s twin brothers, Morgan and Zane, exchanged a glance before commenting in unison, “We think the move would be good.”

Betsy and Ardith, the youngest of the Chadwicks, began whispering back and forth as if trying to understand the full implication of the adult conversation.

Trenton scowled at the boys who were a year his junior. “It isn’t right that a man’s life was taken like that without anyone paying for it. Pa deserves better than that.”

“They’re calling it an accident of wartime,” Dianne threw out. She knew if Trenton would listen to anyone, it would be her. “Trent, we can’t bring Pa back—even if we put a bullet in every Union soldier in town. Or Southern sympathizers, for that matter. Nothing is going to bring him back.”

“Maybe not, but at least we’ll have done right by him.”

“Stop it!” All gazes turned to their mother. Even Betsy and Ardith were silent. “There will be no more talk of revenge.” A cloak of silence clung heavily to the air before she pushed her shoulders back and focused on her sons. “I think Dianne’s idea to move west is a good one.”

Dianne breathed a sigh of relief. Surely now things would progress forward. “We need to leave in less than a week,” Dianne said, centering on her mother’s careworn face. “We should sell the store. Pa had a couple of men interested in buying it at different times.We can get Mr. Danssen at the bank to check them out and see if they’re still interested.”

“I suppose that would be wise,” their mother replied. “I certainly wouldn’t want to trust someone else to run it after we left.”

Dianne nodded. “Morgan and Zane and I have been talking. We’ll take as much as we can in inventory to sell on the way at the forts, and when we arrive in Virginia City, we can sell anything left over. That should give us plenty of money to live on.”

“Is Virginia City where Uncle Bram lives?” Ardith asked.

Their mother nodded. “Yes. Uncle Bram lives nearby.”

“I’ve sent him a letter to let him know we’re coming,” Dianne said, surprising them all with her boldness. “I knew I would have to act quickly or we’d beat the letter there.” She reached out and patted her mother’s arm. “Look, there’s been a lot of gold found in that area so a great many people are making their way to the territory. It should be an easy road, with good folk for company.” She paused and looked at her siblings. “I’ve heard tell a good many Confederate folk are heading to that area.”

“You just don’t understand, do you, Dianne? Or maybe you just don’t care. Moving away still doesn’t change the fact that Pa was wrongly killed,” Trenton declared.

“Do you think that fact has somehow escaped any of us, Trenton?” Dianne’s irritation heightened with her brother’s accusing tone.

Trenton’s expression softened and he lowered his face. “No. I just can’t bear to leave it undone.”

“And I can’t bear to see you hanged for murder. Or forced to fight for the Union.” Dianne’s words were blunt, but she knew it was necessary in order to completely win her mother to the idea. “Morgan and Zane are only two years from being old enough to be drawn into it as well. Would you have their blood on your hands, just because of foolish pride?”

“Enough,” Susannah said, shaking her head. “I cannot bear any more deaths. I hardly know how to face the days as it is.”

“You know I agree with going west,” Morgan put in, “but how will we know what to do? We’ve been running the store and living in the city all our lives. How are we going to know how to live off the land and do what’s necessary to survive on the trail?”

Dianne had wondered this as well. After asking around, she felt she had procured the answer. She produced a small book from her pocket and placed it on the table.

“This is the book that will teach us.
The Prairie Traveler
. This man tells how to do everything. He tells how to pack, how to handle the animals, what weapons and supplies to bring, and what to expect on the trail. I think we can follow his instructions and learn what we need to know. Listen to this.” She opened the book to read randomly.

“‘On emergencies, an ox can be made to proceed at a tolerable quick pace; for, though his walk is only about three miles an hour at an average, he may be made to perform double that distance in the same time.’ ” She paused and turned a few pages. “It says this about packing: ‘Camp-kettles, tin vessels, and other articles that will rattle and be likely to frighten animals, should be firmly lashed to the packs.’ Further down the page it says, ‘One hundred and twenty-five pounds is a sufficient load for a mule upon a long journey.’ ” She smiled and closed the book. “There is all matter of information here. Details about packing and cooking, treating problems on the trail, fixing broken wheels—it’s all right here. We need only study this to know better how to prepare and how to handle the situation once we’re actually on the trail.”

“I could go out and spend a day with Otis Wilby. He could show Morgan and me how to handle the wagon and how to care for the animals,” Zane threw in.

“Yeah, he could probably teach us how to do just about everything we need to know,” Morgan agreed.

Dianne nodded. “That would be good. You boys do that. I’ll help Mama arrange things at the bank and then figure what inventory we’ll take. Trent, why don’t you go with them?”

“I’m not going!” Trent said, jumping up and overturning his chair. His blond hair fell across his face, causing him to frown and push it back in place. The action made him seem less sure—almost confused. “I’m nineteen years old—old enough to make my own decisions. I’m staying here until I make things right.”

“You’ll never make things right, Trent,” Dianne said softly. She reached out to gently touch her brother. “Pa will still be dead. If anyone’s to blame for that, it’s me—not the soldiers. Pa needed money and I went to the bank for him. It’s my fault.”

Trent shook his head. “That’s not true. You should be able to walk the streets without being attacked. You weren’t to blame.”

“She shouldn’t have been out,” her mother said, eyeing them both with a look of resentment. It was the first time Dianne felt, as well as heard, her mother’s opinion of the matter. “But I cannot hold you responsible—not in full.” Dianne felt the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders as her mother continued. “I need you to be the man of the family now, Trenton. I need you to stop thinking of what you want and see us safely through to the Idaho Territory.”

Trent shook his head. Dianne saw the sorrow in his expression. “I’m not going. You can’t make me. I think you’re ten kinds of fool to try to make this trip, but I’m sure Morgan and Zane will be men enough to get the job done.”

Dianne watched her mother’s face contort as she barely held back her tears. “You do this, Trenton Chadwick, and you’re no son of mine.”

Dianne gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Trenton seemed surprised by his mother’s statement but refused to back down. “I have to do this, Ma. If you don’t understand that, then you must not have loved Pa as much as you say you did.”

Trent stormed out, not giving anyone time to reply.

Their mother stared at the door for several moments. No one dared to breathe or speak a word. Betsy pulled on one of her braids and began rubbing the hair between her thumb and first finger as she often did when upset. Ardith simply looked at the floor, while Morgan and Zane kept their gaze on the table. Only Dianne turned to their mother. And in that moment Dianne knew her mother truly blamed her for everything. The look on her face made it clear. Dianne sank back in her chair.

But then just as quickly as the look appeared, her mother’s face relaxed and assumed an expression of resignation. “What do we need to do, Dianne?”

Dianne hesitated. “Well … I-I’ve made a list. I figure we should take at least three wagons. Each wagon will have four oxen each. We should also take several milk cows and some chickens and horses.”

“With the war on, how will we be able to get those things?” Zane asked.

“Pa made friends with the Yankees. If you have enough money, you can buy whatever you need. I figure with the sale of the store, we should be able to get whatever we want.”

“But who’d buy the store now? Especially with the Union holding the town? Those fellows who were interested before surely aren’t going to want it now,” Morgan stated.

“We’ll just hope for the best. If not those fellows, then maybe one of the Yankee soldiers or their relation. Many of the men seem to like it here; even Captain Seager talks of settling here after the war.”

Morgan and Zane seemed satisfied by this answer. “Ma, while the boys can go talk to Otis, I have some worries about how we’ll learn what we need to know,” Dianne began. “We don’t know much about cooking on the trail and washing and such. The book talks about some of it”—her mother picked up the book and thumbed through as Dianne continued—“but I doubt we can learn everything there.”

“Right here it talks about how to dry fruits and vegetables,” her mother said matter-of-factly. “You press the juice out and dry them in the oven until they’re rock hard. They pack tight then and won’t spoil. When you go to use them again, you boil them in water and they are supposed to be as good as fresh.”

Dianne thought it sounded reasonable. “But what about making campfires and cooking out in the open?”

“Dutch ovens are supposed to be great for cooking outdoors.We sell them here in the store,” her mother replied. “Surely we can learn how to use one.”

Other books

Blonde Bombshell by Tom Holt
Summer Magic by Alers, Rochelle
Ring of Truth by Nancy Pickard
The Two Devils by David B. Riley
Sepulchre by James Herbert
2nd Earth 2: Emplacement by Edward Vought
Arrest-Proof Yourself by Dale C. Carson, Wes Denham