Faith of the Heart (15 page)

The house boasted a large open kitchen and living room area, two bedrooms
,
and a full-sized attic.
T
rees from the property
were used
to build and shingle the house. Rocks from Saddle
C
reek made a sturdy floor-to-ceiling fireplace that warmed the entire dwelling. Colorful wool blankets covered the beds and the large horsehair sofa. In the kitchen
,
pots and pans hung from pegs on the wall and
blue gingham curtains decorated the windows.
A matching cloth covered
the
sturdy oak table. The entire place was
masculine,
and
immaculate
,
reflecting the owner’s structured military background.

             
Maxwell didn’t spend a lot of time at home
,
but when he was there he wanted to be comfortable. After several years spent in the army, where privacy was non-existent and personal belongings few, the notion of home was
important to him.

             
The outbuildings consisted of a good sized barn with attached room, a chicken coop, a necessary, and even a tiny ice house that straddled the creek. It was used to keep butter, milk and cheeses cold with the cool running water. Ice was packed in sawdust for use all year long. It was a treat to enjoy cold drinks in the summer
and occasionally even home-made ice cream.

             
The idea for the ice house had been Linus Mason’s. Linus was the ranch hand that minded Maxwell’s place while he was in town
.
During the war Linus had been under Tom’s command. Just a teenager, he’d run away from home to join the army and experience the great adventure that he’d heard about. Trouble was when Linus was forced to
actually fight
, he
had been
shocked, horrified, and
just plain
scared
.
At 15, he’d seen more of death and suffering than most men did in their whole lifetimes
.
T
om took notice of the youngster and protected him as much as he could. He assigned Linus to be his personal aid
e
, effectively removing him from the front line.
Instead
, he stayed in the back and took care of Tom’s tent and personal belongings. He prepared meals for Tom and the other
officers,
did their laundry
,
and cared for their horses.

             
Linus was not
real sociable,
but he worked hard. He made himself useful and won the admiration of many men, but he was not cut out to be a soldier. He just didn’t have the instinct to kill. Like many young men who had been eager to go to war,
he thought
it was
going to be a big game.
They
had to teach those rebel scum a lesson, teach them
not
to insult their president, their Union.
He hadn’t
thought of the war in terms of people
actually
dying until it was already started,
and much
too late to turn back. The fighting,
suffering, and dying around him was something Linus couldn’t brush off
.
E
ven still, he could have taken advantage of a dozen opportunities to escape the destruction, desert his camp and fellow soldiers, but Linus held fast. He kept his courage and braved that war until the last
.

             
When the war ended,
the young man
returned
home to Kansas, but he just couldn’t fit back into his large family. The commotion and noise of so many people crammed into one house preyed on his mind. Nightmares haunted him and he knew he had to get away.
Because
Maxwell had always looked out for him
during the war,
he found his way to Omaha, hoping his former
c
aptain could find a place for him once more.
Together they had raised the buildings and cleared the land for a few acres of crops and a garden. At 19, Linus was a young
man but he
saw Maxwell as a father figure, regardless of the fact that he was less than a decade older. Linus didn’t want to be around people so the solitude of the ranch was perfect for him. He was happiest caring for the cattle, the beautiful Morgans,
and Tom Maxwell.

             
I
t was a good arrangement
for the sheriff
as well. His job kept him away from home for days at a time and he knew Linus was there,
watching
the place. Without his help, Maxwell knew he never could have built or maintained a ranch in the first place. He would still be living a life of
solitary
bachelorhood, still renting a room in town with no plans to settle. With a home to return to, Maxwell saw possibilities open up for him, especially concerning the beautiful Miss Secord.

             
Tom woke
with a start
. He glanced at his pocket watch, 2:00 AM. He stretched and went to check on his prisoners
;
b
oth were snoring loudly.

They’ll have terrific hangovers in the morning
, he thought ruefully.
They never learn.
He shook his head. That rotgut was hard on a man’s insides. He’d seen enough of that during the war and now nearly every day as sheriff.

             
Restless. He was getting restless. Long hours and bad food came with
his job
, along with t
oo much over-boiled thick-as-syrup coffee. Maybe it was time for a change. He’d been lucky so far. He’d been able to handle any trouble that came his way. He was a fast shot, but he knew
there were some quicker
. So far he’d been in a handful of shootouts and only been grazed a couple of times. Next time he might not be so lucky. Most sheriffs in frontier towns only lasted a couple of years before they either quit or were killed. He’d been the town’s top lawman for four years. Was he pushing his luck? Besides, he was thinking of settling down. A sheriff had no right being married. It wouldn’t be right to subject a wife to the dangers. A sheriff was a target and a wife would also be in jeopardy.
She would never know if or when her husband was coming home.

             
T
he ranch was
finally
beginning to show a profit.
T
he herd was growing and the crops were thriving.
He and Linus
had started having conversations about how to capitalize on the railroad running through Omaha. They talked about getting involved in the  stockyard and sending their beef back east to towns like Chicago and Springfield, and even as far as New York, Philadelphia, or Baltimore. There was a huge market for grass-fed Midwestern beef. He just had to find a way to make it pay o
ut
for him. A wise man once told him that there was a lot of money out in the
world
,
a body just has to find a way to reach out and grab it. Maxwell was working on it. Besides
,
a rancher could afford a wife and not have to worry about every two-bit crook who wandered into town.

             
Claire came to mind
, a
gain.
Lately she was all he could think about.
Her
trim figure,
warm
smile
,
and shiny brown hair
made him
lose
his breath
, his heart pound
.
What would it feel like to run his hands through that hair?
Still thinking of Claire, Maxwell wriggled into a more comfortable position in his chair and fell back to sleep.

             
He awoke
a few hours later
to the loud thunk of the front door opening and
Deputy
Simons
on
standing in the doorway.

             
“Morning
,
Tom, I’m here to relieve you,” he
smiled
, looking disgustingly bright-eyed
.

             
Maxwell swung his
stiff
legs off of the desk and reached for his coat, yawning.

             
“I’m going to catch a few hours of sleep at my place and check on my stock. I’ll be back by noon. Kick those drunks out when they wake up but give them a strong warning. Next time they cause problems we’ll leave them in jail for a week and forget to feed ‘em.”

             
Simons
on
chuckled. “You got it boss. I‘ve got some wanted posters to go through, and I’ll take care of the morning rounds. Go get some shut-eye. You look beat.”

             
Maxwell nodded and headed out the door
rubbing his bleary eyes.
Already he was thinking about frying up a mess of eggs and bacon, taking a long nap and changing into clean clothes.

A little rest is all I need. A man gets tired and his thoughts get jumbled up.

             
He retrieved his horse from the livery stable next door and swung up into the saddle. He trotted down Dodge Street
,
turned north and headed home, whistling a jaunty tune
, and feeling better already.

             
Back at the jail
,
Percy stirred up the fire in the stove, poured
freshly
ground coffee and water into the beat-up enamel pot and gathered up the wanted posters to have another look. In a river town like Omaha you never knew who was going to show up and Percy prided himself on being ready to recognize crooks
that
were wanted.

             
Deputy Simons
on
had worked for Sheriff Maxwell ever since
he
had arrived in Omaha. At 2
3
, Percy was a serious and dedicated lawman. Off-duty he was much less reserved and enjoyed kicking up his heels with his gal, Connie Rose.
They were active in their church and participated in spelling bees and singing contests. What Percy lacked in vocal talent
he
made up
for
in volume and enthusiasm. Connie’s energy and cheerful disposition always made people feel good. Their good looks and good natures made them a popular couple in town.
It was expected that someday the two would marry
, and they talked about it
sometimes
but for now they were both happy with the ways things were. He had his job as deputy, she owned her café and there wasn’t any need to change things. Life was pretty darn good.

             
Percy took the last swallow of the now
-
cold coffee and reached for his gun belt.
It was
time
to make the rounds and see what was happening in town. First stop
, check on
Miss Secord at the mercantile and
buy
a couple of cents worth of licorice, then swing by the bank and the saloons
,
and
then  pop into Rose’s, see his gal
,
and devour  her blue plate special.
Yup, life was pretty good.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

Just Outside Gettysburg
, April 1865

             
“Cal, land sakes! Cal!” Cassie burst into the cabin
.
“Boy, listen
,
the war is over! Over!” She dropped her bundles on the old table and rushed over to the cot where Cal was sleeping.

             
“Cal!” She shook him hard and his eyes flew open. “What, old lady, what did you say?”

             
“I said,” she screeched, “it’s over
!
General Lee
done
surrendered last week in some town by name of Appo…
Appomattox Court House in Virginia.”

             
Cal swung his thin legs over the cot’s edge and stood up
. He grabbed Cassie and hugged her fiercely. “I just can hardly believe it’s over. Come sit down and tell me everything
!
”

             
He pulled her over to the table and pushed out a chair with his foot. She sat down with a sigh and fished out a newspaper from her bundles. “Here, read for yourself. I gots to catch my breath. I darn near ran all the way from Gettysburg.” She fanned her face and leaned back. “Too much excitement
for this old ticker of mine. I was like to have me a heart attack.”