Faith of the Heart (16 page)

             
Cal didn’t
answer;
he was too engrossed in the Gettysburg paper.
It
was
over. Lee had surrendered to
G
eneral Ulysses
S.
Grant. Men were finally going home.

             
But I don’t have a home. I can’t stay here, I’ve been a hermit too long.
I certainly can’t return to Gettysburg and Claire.
She probably thinks
I’m dead and
it’s to
o
late to
face
her
anyway
. So now what?

             
Cal looked up from the paper. Cassie was asleep in the chair, head tipped back, snoring softly. He felt a quick surge of tenderness for the old gal, his only friend and companion for the past several months. He owed her so much, yet she expected nothing from him.

             
He tip-toed out of the cabin and stood in the yard
,
seeing nothing. The tenderness had turned to rage. Yes,
the war was over but he had lost so much
;
his health, his wife-to-be,
his entire future. Someone was going to pay for what they’d done to him. Why he’d nearly died fighting to preserve the union.
Now it was time to fight for him. Even if that meant in a different city with his new identity. He’d get what was coming to him.  
 

CHAPTER
TWELVE

Omaha, Nebraska,
Late July 1869

             
It was a sweltering hot Sunday afternoon in July, and most folks were either wading in the creek to cool off or sitting on their porches sipping lemonade. Claire was stooped over in her garden, weeding, sweat pouring down her
forehead
and into her eyes. The store was closed for the day and she was enjoying being outdoors, even
with the
heat
.
The garden was dry and full of weeds; Claire felt she had
avoided it
long enough and decided to tend to it before it became overgrown with unwanted vegetation. She lugged several buckets of water from her well and the dry plants soaked it up as fast as she could pour it on. It was a lot of work, but come winter she
would
enjoy the foods she can
ned
or store
d
in her tiny cold cellar. Last
fall
she
ha
d put up the vegetables that Aunt Ginny had planted, but this year the work was all her own doing.

             
It gave Claire a good feeling knowing that she was providing for herself
and
succeeding
. Her store was flourishing and she’d even hired a young man to work in the afternoons several times a week. Billy was a hard worker and helped Claire where she most needed it. He lifted heavy loads for her and moved the larger items around the store, saving Claire’s back and time. Plus, he was good with the customers. The menfolk felt more comfortable buying their tobacco and such from him and the young gals liked his cheeky grin. He was exceedingl
y honest and fast with figures.
Best of all, having Billy as help allowed Claire to sl
ip away once in awhile.
             
She
had become fond of renting a horse to take rides into the country for exercise and to learn more about her
Nebraska
home. Once in awhile she
would
stop in to visit with some of her customers who lived on farms. She
ha
d even started a kind of informal delivery service, bringing supplies and mail to farm wives
,
which earned her new customers and friends. It excited Claire that she was managing so well, and her grand plans for the store were finally beginning to take shape; a proud accomplishment in her mind.

             
As she bent to stake up a bean plant
,
she felt someone grab her around her waist and clamp a filthy hand over her mouth. Fetid breath hit her face.

             
“No sounds now girly. I mean it.”

             
Claire struggled
,
but the arm squeezed tighter.
Her attempts to scream came out as muffled
grunts
against
the
dirty paw.

             
“We’re j
est
gonna go into that there store of yours and git me a few things. Quit squirmin’
or you’re gonna g
i
t hurt.”
Claire managed to twist in the man’s arms. He was a dirty, burly man; heavy, strong, and
shabbily
dressed. He had an old hat pulled low on his forehead, but she could see his tiny bloodshot eyes. They were the
ugliest, most yellow
eyes she’d ever seen and she stared back, searing his face into her memory. The man shoved her forward, making her stumble. He jerked her upright again, hard, and pushed her through the
kitchen
door. Claire caught her foot on the ledge and cried out, but the brute holding her shook her hard.

“I said, sh
u
t
up
!” He squeezed hard enough to bruise her arm, and Claire had to bite her lip
to keep
from screaming. Right behind the large cowboy was another man, tall and scrawny as a bean pole. He grinned and Claire saw a mouth of brown decayed teeth.

             
“Hey Bud, whatcha gonna do with her? She seen our faces.”

             
“Shaddup, you idiot.” Bud growled, clearly in no mood to tolerate his companion.

             
He dumped Claire onto the kitchen floor. When she opened her mouth to scream, he stuffed a dish towel into it and tied it tightly behind her head
.
Bud disappeared through the store’s entryway and reappeared moments later with a length of rope to tie her hands. After making sure she was securely bound, he shoved her through her home into the closed store.

             
“Lady, I need us some cash and grub to get through ‘til better times. Me and my friend has had some bad luck, but yo
r
e gonna change that. Just give us what we want and we won’t kill ya.”   

             
Claire glared at him and tried to yell through the gag, but it was useless. She tried to work at the rope to free her hands, but soon the hard fibers were cutting into her wrists, making it more difficult to move. She felt blood trickle down her hand and onto her perfectly polished floors.
Her heart was racing and fear made her almost sick to her stomach.

             
If I could just get my hands loose
, she thought. Her pistol was
in the
bed
room
under the mattress, and she could kick herself for not carrying it with her at all times.
But she did have a sheathed knife in her skirt pocket
that she’d been using to hack at weeds in the garden. If she could work her hands free to get at it, she might be able to escape
unscathed
.

             
Bud moved to the register and yanked the cash drawer out.
Cursing, he smashed it on the floor. Only a few coins rolled out.  He grabbed Claire, sh
aking
her
so violently that her neck snapped back,
and
he
pulled the towel from her mouth.

             
“You scream, I’ll kill you!”

             
Claire nodded frantically, licks of real fear burning her belly.

             
“Money, where’s the
cash
money?
” Bud hissed into her face, his putrid breath making Claire’s throat catch, her eyes water.

             
She tried to answer calmly, but her voice
wavered
as she spoke.

             
“I… I d-deposited it yesterday in the b-bank.”

             
He cursed again and began to pace the room. Claire feared he would shoot her out of anger
and braced for the bullet.

             
“Bud,” his
gangly
friend interrupted, eager to please “she’s probably got something around here, do
o
dads or baubles. Somethin
’
.”

             
Bud thought for a moment, letting the idea sink in.
“Yeah… Frank
go
see what you can find in that bedroom
.
”

             
Claire’s eyes widened.

Not the gun!
Oh, please Lord, don’t let them find my pistol
!

             
She sucked in some air and said, “In my bureau are some jade ear-bobs, take them. There’s a little cash in the top drawer, take it too and just go away. Please!”

             
Frank sprinted
through the doorway
and she could hear him rummaging around the bedroom, throwing aside furniture in his haste. A lamp smashed to the floor and the bureau drawers followed. She strained to hear the bed being overturned, but it wasn’t.

             
Meanwhile Bud stuffed the towel back in her mouth and pushed her down into a chair.

             
“You stay there
and don’t do nothin
’
. I kilt a woman before and I ain’t got no problems with doin’ it agin.”

             
He began to fill a large burlap sack with flour, sugar, beef jerky, coffee, and bacon. He filled a second bag with ammunition, tobacco, and several
jars
of Claire’s homemade peaches. Claire fumed silently,
the fear temporarily replaced by anger,
but there was nothing she could do except sit and watch him raid her store
.
She scanned the windows, but the curtains were drawn tight and the front door securely bolted. It was Sunday afternoon and no one would come to the store. It was always closed on the Sabbath
and Billy wasn’t scheduled to work until Tuesday.

             
Frank came racing
back into the room
,
laughing at their good fortune.

             
“Lookee, lookee at what I got here.”

             
In his grimy fists were Claire’s jade earrings, a gold necklace, and her mother’s silver candlesticks. Sticking out of his pocket was her emergency money stash
.
There was no pistol.

             
Quietly breathing a sigh of relief, Claire looked away. She’d be sorry to lose her belongings, but they weren’t as precious to her as that pistol,
one of
the only remaining possession
s
she had of her father’s.
Now if they’d just go!
             
             
             
             
             
Bud finished stuffing the second burlap sack and pushed it toward Frank.

             
“Come on, let’s git outta here! Grab the girl and let’s go.”

             
Frank ambled over and tried to untie Claire from the chair, but when he came close she kicked out and knocked him over. Her captor startled, Claire tried to run out the back door and yell for help, chair and all, but before she had gotten two steps Bud yanked her down again. Winded, she could hardly struggle as he untied her and stuffed the towel back into h
er
mouth. Throwing her over his shoulder, he picked up one of the bags and motioned for Frank to grab the other
.
They tromped back through her living quarters and out the back door, not even bothering to close it.

             
Hidden
behind the neighbor
’
s barn stood two horses hitched to a rickety old wagon. Bud dumped Claire into the back and tossed a s
tinky
horse blanket on top of her.

             
“Lady
,
you make one noise and I’ll shoot you dead. Don’t matter to me iffen yore alive or dead
`
cept maybe you’ll come in handy later.”

             
Frank snorted, “I can think of a way she’d come in handy.”