Distant Heart (12 page)

“For mercy's sake.” The girl was difficult. “You should stop because it's not Christian to swear. And besides, it doesn't sound very ladylike.”

Ginger chortled and slung an arm around Toni's shoulders. “Toni, you know I ain't Christian nor a lady, so what difference does it make?”

“If you'd give God a chance he could heal whatever wounds you're trying to cover up. Look what he did for me.”

Ginger dropped her arm. “Don't try to save me, Toni. Preachin' ain't gonna do no good. I got my mind made up about God and what I got to do no decent Christian could get away with as far as the Almighty's concerned.”

The words terrified Toni. Ginger was her own worst enemy and the girl didn't even know it. Or if she did, she didn't care.

“All right, listen. What are we going to do about Kane?” Ginger said in a huff.

“I don't know yet.” She cast a sideways glance at the young woman. “This entire situation is much bigger than I am. And I'm going to pray and ask God for wisdom; and according to the book of James, He will give it to me.”

“I know what I'd do,” Ginger said. “I'd walk right up to that fella, stick a gun in his belly and force him to tell the truth.”

“I don't think that's going to work in this situation, Ginger. Please don't do anything of the sort.”

Ginger let out a huff and stomped on ahead toward the wagons.

Toni followed. She recognized this awful position. She wasn't a gossip. Wasn't one to tell tales. She never had been, even before she became a Christian. But if she told anyone about Mr. Kane and his dalliance with the unknown woman,
she could put herself in danger of being made out to be a liar. Who would believe a former prostitute over a respected member of the wagon train?

She began praying for wisdom before she even reached her wagon.

 

Charles Harrison watched his son as he played with the half-wolf puppy tied to the Kane's wagon. The boy was the spitting image of his mother—so much so that it was impossible for Charles to look at him most days without the pain robbing him of breath. His Cordelia had a bond with the boy that Charles had resented from time to time. As much as it shamed him to admit it, even to himself, he'd been jealous of the attention Delia showered on the child. They shared a love of animals, of nature. Of just about everything.

“Alfred,” he called. The boy turned to him, a simple look of trust in his eyes.

“Hi, Pa.”

“Time to tell Mrs. Kane and Wolfie goodnight and come to our campfire.”

“Yes, Pa.” He stood, patted Wolf on the head. The dog whined and licked Alfred's hand. The boy laughed. “Okay, Wolfie, see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Alfred,” Mrs. Kane said. Her sad eyes never failed to touch Charles's heart. She'd suffered much, this woman. But then, so had most of the pioneers. Still, it seemed as though she might be just a little more fragile than others.

“Night, ma'am,” Alfred replied.

Mr. Kane entered the campsite, anger exuding from his
body. Before Charles could move, the massive man snatched Alfred by the front of his shirt. “You been telling tales about me, boy?”

“Hi, M-Mr. Kane.”

“Turn my boy loose,” Charles said, fingering his pistol. Outraged, he wasn't sure what he'd do if Kane didn't do as he was told.

“Not 'til he tells me what he's been sayin'. I know it was you, you dimwitted fool.”

“What happened?” Mrs. Kane asked.

“Never you mind. This boy knows and he best admit it before I beat him to death with my bare hands.”

Rage shot through Charles at the threat. He slipped his Colt from his holster and shoved it toward the man. “I said get your hands off my son, or I'm going to plug you full of holes, Kane.”

Mr. Kane turned. Charles kept his eyes firmly on the man, knowing Kane was sizing him up. After what seemed like forever, he turned Alfred loose. Charles stepped forward, keeping his Colt pointed squarely at the man's chest. “No one threatens my family, and if you ever lay your hand on him again, believe me, I won't give you a warning first, I'll just start shooting.”

A sneer curled Kane's lip. “You keep that half-wit away from my wife and my dog. You understand me?”

“He won't come near your wagon again.” Charles slipped his arm around Alfred's shoulders. “Come on, Son. Let's go.”

“Okay, Pa. Night Mrs. Kane. Night Wolfie. Night Mr. Kane.”

Mrs. Kane lifted her hand. “Goodnight Alfred.”

Charles heard the sorrow in her voice and once again his heart went out to her.

“Go on,” Kane growled. “Get out of here and don't come back.”

Without another word, Charles led his son back to their own wagon. Belinda looked up when they walked to the fire. “Want some coffee, Pa?”

Charles looked at his daughter. At thirteen, she wasn't a little girl anymore. When had she changed so much? And why hadn't he noticed? Delia would be so disappointed in him if she could see him now.

Timothy wept when they arrived back at the site of the attack. He fell across his wife's grave. The sounds he uttered were more like that of a wounded animal than human. The sounds and sight were chilling.

Sam turned away to allow the man his privacy, but nothing could stop the sounds of Timothy's anguish. While Brian took a rifle and went in search of game for supper, Sam surveyed the area, looking for signs that might lead to a clue of some sort. One thing he knew for sure, someone had been in the camp since the travelers had left. He doubted Swooping Eagle and his men had returned. More likely, stray Indians or men headed for the gold fields passed by looking for anything salvageable. At least the graves hadn't been disturbed.

Finally, after searching in all directions from the burnt wagons and debris that had been left behind after the attack, Sam found enough footprints and broken branches to give the three men a starting point, at least.

At first light, they would cut north from their current po
sition and track in that direction. With a little luck and a lot of help from God, he was hopeful the trail would remain clear.

As the three men sat around the campfire later, Brian remained pensive, Tim sorrowful. Sam prayed. He had never been one to press his religion on anyone. Or any of his feelings and beliefs. He had always felt a man should do what he thought was right. But Timothy's grieving was deeper than normal sorrow. It was soul-wounding pain that only Jesus could heal. And Sam knew he had that hope, himself. How could he keep it from a man who so desperately needed the same peace?

“I just don't understand how this could happen to her,” the man said, weeping into his already soaked handkerchief. “She was the sweetest, gentlest woman in the world. She was good and kind and loved me and Janey. Why did God take her when we need her so?”

Anytime a man asked a question, Sam figured it was an opening to give the best answer he knew. And that answer could only be one thing.

“We live in a fallen world, Tim. Wars and killing are part of this sinful nature of man. Only Jesus is perfection and we won't know perfection until we live in the heaven designed for Him. Your Sophie was caught in the middle of man's sinful nature.”

“How is it to be borne? I can't breathe. I can't sleep. All I can do is see her with that arrow through her heart, staring at me and begging me to do something to help her.” Sobs racked his body, deep engulfing sobs that gripped Sam's heart. He went to the man and clasped him on the shoulder.
Timothy grabbed him and clung. Sam offered the man his strength. “How do I hold on?” Timothy cried. “How?”

Sam searched his heart and allowed the words to flow from a place inside of him where he knew God inhabited. “Maybe you don't have to be the one to hold on. Jesus will hold on to you until you can raise your arms again, Tim. His love will carry you and when you can carry your own weight again He'll still be there, walking right alongside you.”

Timothy remained silent for the rest of the evening. Sam wasn't sure if he had helped or not, but he prayed throughout the night that God would give Tim the peace he needed to focus on the task at hand.

When dawn broke, the three men mounted up and turned their horses northward. Sam only prayed that they weren't in for more heartbreak if they did find the captives.

 

So far, so good. Toni remained cautious but hopeful as the wagon train moved out with no demand from Curtis and Lucille Adams that Wolf be killed for the loss of their rooster. She wasn't sure why the couple was being so quiet about it, but for now it was a mercy.

Her heart went out to Alfred, though. He didn't understand why he couldn't play with the dog and that just didn't seem fair to Toni. When Ginger offered to drive the wagon so she could walk for awhile, she accepted readily and walked with Fannie. It was the first chance she'd had to really share her frustration with her friend and it felt good to get it out.

“I just don't understand how Mr. Kane can be so cruel to a boy as sweet as Alfred.”

“Maybe he's just trying to ease Alfred's pain when the dog is put down.”

“What do you mean?”

Fannie looked back, her brow creased. “Toni, Wolf killed Curtis's rooster. That man has already been to Blake demanding the dog's death. Blake just doesn't have the heart to do it right now with members of the other wagon train just having lost so much. We have five new families with us and each has lost a family member. There's just too much death right now. He might give the dog one more day, maybe two, but Blake knows what has to happen.”

Toni thought about the secret she carried and decided now was the time to share with her friend. She gathered a breath for support. “Fannie, I have to tell you something. I'm not sure how it will effect Blake's decision, but…” She told Fannie about Alfred's revelation and Mr. Kane's reaction to her accusation. She didn't leave anything out. Not even the woman who met Mr. Kane.

Coming from the background she did, not much shocked Fannie, or Toni either, for that matter. “You didn't see the woman's face?”

Toni shook her head. “It was already getting dark and they were a ways off. She ran when they heard us talking.”

“If we could find out who the woman is, we might use it to force Mr. Kane to confess.”

“But how do we do that without sneaking around ourselves and suspecting every woman in the train?”

Fannie snorted. “Well, don't look at me.”

The very thought brought laughter to Toni's lips. “Trust me, the thought never entered my mind.”

“Toni, look at Alfred.”

Toni followed her gaze and compassion squeezed her heart. Alfred walked about six feet behind the Kane's wagon where Wolf was tied. He spoke to the animal, but following Mr. Kane's instructions stayed far enough away so that he couldn't be accused of disobedience.

“And they say he's a dimwit,” Fannie said with a laugh. “Looks to me like he found a way to get around Mr. Kane's demand.”

A smile played at the corners of Toni's lips. “Still, it's so sad.”

“I'll talk to Blake. But he can be so dadburn stubborn, I can't promise he'll believe Alfred about Mr. Kane, and even if he does, he might not feel like he can interfere.”

“I understand.” Toni kept an eye on Alfred. When a horse rode up beside the boy, she frowned. “What's Kip doing?”

Fannie's brother rode alongside Alfred. He said something to the lad, reined in his horse and Alfred climbed up behind him. A wide grin split Alfred's round face and he waved like he was riding in a parade. “Would you look at that?” Toni said. “Who would have thought Kip could be so sweet?”

“No kidding,” Fannie said. “I guess they both like animals. That's something they have in common.”

“Well, at least riding behind Kip will give Alfred something else to think about for awhile.”

“In the meantime, I'm going to do my best to make sure that pup isn't put down.”

 

Charles watched his son climb onto the back of the massive horse behind Kip Caldwell. A twinge of worry struck him, but when he saw the grin on his boy's face, he couldn't help but smile and figure it would be all right. Alfred had precious little happiness these days. What would it hurt for him to ride a horse with a friend and enjoy himself for awhile?

Charles had so much regret. Regret that he had been so ashamed of that boy all of his life. Or maybe it was more disappointment in knowing he'd never be the son he had dreamed of. The sort of son who would work side by side with his father. Would plant their fields and bring in the harvest, and eventually marry and bring a bride to the land of his inheritance. All the grandiose things he'd imagined as a father…none of that would ever come to pass. The disappointment had been too much for Charles. Only now did he see his selfishness for what it was. And his family had suffered for it. Could he ever make up for his shortsightedness?

He held tightly to the reins as his oxen pulled hard against the rocks. When he looked up again, Mrs. Kane walked alongside his wagon staring up at him like something was on her mind. What on earth?

“Good day, ma'am.”

Her gaze darted forward to the wagon where her husband drove their own team, and back. “Listen, I want to give Wolf to Alfred. Do you mind?”

“But I thought…”

“I know. I know he's supposed to be shot in a couple of days, but I think if he belongs to Alfred, no one's going to have the heart to do it.”

Ah, so she had an ulterior motive. Charles's guard shot up. He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe, maybe not.” Since Alfred was a baby, he'd been the victim of cruelty and not just from other children. To his knowledge not one person had ever done the right thing just to spare the boy's feelings.

She gave him a wry grin. “Don't think it's because I'm being noble or thinking just of the boy. I can't bear the thought of losing that animal to a bullet. As much as I care about Alfred, he's a means to an end, right now.”

A strange admiration flowed through Charles at her honesty. “I didn't figure you were being noble. Not too many folks are where my boy is concerned. But I like the idea of keeping that pup alive if we can.”

“You know, Mr. Harrison. I didn't think you loved that boy. But I can see you do. I'm glad.”

She smiled, warm like a spring day, and Charles's spirits lifted.