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 around 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 course there had to be more 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 just 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 moment, 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 Simonson 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 headed 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 looked 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 Miss¼ what did you say her name was?”
“I didn’t. It’s Miss Secord. Miss Claire Secord. She owns the mercantile in town.”
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.
“How is everything around here? Do we have a guest?” He motioned to the unfamiliar horse in the corral.
“That reporter from back east is here. Remember, he’s doing an article on railroad inventions that impact the cattle business.”
“I remember. What bad timing. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse. Besides, Claire needs a rest before we go back to town tomorrow.”
He looked over at Claire, who was turning her stiff neck from side to side, trying to work out kinks from the long ride.
“I guess it can’t be helped,” he said with a frown.
Claire noticed their concern and waved them off, not wanting to be a bother. “Tom, I’ll be alright. A good meal and a warm fire will restore me. After a good night’s sleep I’ll be back to my old self. Let’s go meet your guest.”
“Claire, you may already know him. Mr.Cal Moore from Baltimore. He sure got a start when I mentioned your name. I thought he was going to pass out on me.” Linus looked at her expectantly.
She shook her head. “No, I don’t believe so. I’ve never been to Baltimore. I’m from Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. It must be some kind of mistake.”
Tom reached for the barn door and held it open for Claire. She stepped inside and the two men followed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light in the room, and as they did she could just see the slim gray-eyed man bracing his hands on the desk. She gasped, her heart pounding. She feared it would jump right out of her chest. She reached out, looking for something to hold, and felt the warm touch of Tom’s hands as the world faded to black.
She awoke laying on the horsehair sofa with a cool cloth on her forehead, Maxwell’s anxious face hovering over hers.
“Claire, sweetheart, you passed out. Honey, are you ill?”
She struggled to sit up, pushing the wool blanket off her chest, swinging her legs to the floor. She tried to stand, but they buckled beneath her and she was forced back onto the couch.
“Sweetie, lie still. You’re so pale, it’s as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Maxwell fussed over her, pulling her back down, covering her with the blanket.
Frantically she looked around the room, searchin
g for Caleb, wondering what he was doing here when she had thought he was dead, dead, dead.
“I did see a ghost. Him.” She pointed to Cal standing awkwardly behind Tom and he nodded, almost as pale as Claire.
Tom shot a glance between the two. “What the heck is going on?” he asked suspiciously. Linus turned to the stove and pretended to get very busy tending the stew.
“Sheriff Maxwell, my given name is, was, Caleb Davidson and I am Claire’s fiancé.”
Tom stared at him in disbelief. Then he turned to Claire, his blue eyes flashing. “Claire, is this true? Is this the man you told me about?” “Well, yes, but ¼”
Maxwell shook his head in confusion and anger. “I don’t believe it. You said he was dead. You are my fiancée.”
“Yes but¼I told you I thought he was dead. His body never turned up, obviously, but a lot of the boys’ bodies were never recovered. Oh my.” Feeling faint again Claire fanned herself with her hands.
Cal jumped in. “Claire is, rather was, my fiancée before the war and I’m hoping she’ll still agree to be my wife. I was ¼ gone¼ for a very long time, but seeing her again makes me realize I still love her.” He turned and addressed his former love, staring deeply into her eyes. “Claire¼ I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife just like we planned all those years ago.”
Claire looked first into the blazing blue eyes of Tom and then the hopeful gray eyes of Cal and shuddered. Her mind raced with unanswered questions, wondering how Caleb was here, how he had gotten so pale and thin, how he had found her. Wondering whether she really was meant for a life with Caleb or a life with Tom. She was so confused.
Tom began pacing the floor. “I still don’t believe it.” He turned to the easterner. “Moore or Davidson or whatever the heck you say your name is, what makes you think Claire still cares for you and would marry you?” He waited as Cal squirmed under his piercing gaze. “Well?”
Cal glared back and reached into the collar of his shirt. He unclasped the gold half-heart necklace and placed it on the table.
“Claire gave this to me the day I went off to war. We pledged our undying love. She wears the matching one. Or at least she used to. We both swore we’d wear the necklaces until we were reunited.”
Tom turned to Claire. “Well?’’ he asked her, his voice deadly quiet, the grim set to his mouth unnerving her. Claire sucked in her breath and reached into her own collar and pulled out her chain. She laid it next to Cal’s and the pieces of the heart meshed together, a perfect fit. Claire watched Maxwell’s face grow red with fury and she scrambled to explain herself to him.
“Tom, I can explain¼ I thought he was dead. I waited so long for him and he never returned¼ I nearly took it off the other day. The day after you proposed but I didn’t want to lose it and…”
“Save it, Claire. I’ve heard enough.”
Tom stomped off to a far room and slammed the door so hard the entire house shook. Linus set the pot of stew on the table and silently let himself out of the house. Cal and Claire didn’t seem to notice.
Cal got up and limped to the stove where a kettle of water was boiling. He rummaged in a cupboard and produced a tin of tea leaves and a couple of ceramic mugs. Moments later he brought the steaming cups to the sofa where Claire sat with the blanket tucked protectively around her. Wordlessly, she accepted a mug and wrapped both hands around it, seemingly trying to gather its warmth.
Claire couldn’t keep her eyes off Cal as he pulled up a wooden chair to sit near her. He waited for an invitation to sit next to her on the sofa, to take her into his arms and finally hold her after so many years, but she said nothing.
He took a sip of tea and wrestled with his thoughts. The shock of seeing her here in this place had shaken him to the core. He could feel his heart pound and his hands tremble. He didn’t know how to explain to her why he hadn’t come back, why he had lied and deserted and left her to fend for herself. He thought of lying, saying his head wound had given him amnesia, but Claire deserved the truth.
She was a sweet, timid girl; she’d get used to the idea of him being alive. They’d go back to Baltimore, settle in, and he could support her with his job at the paper. She could stay in his rooms until they could buy a small house. They wouldn’t be able to tell his parents they’d married, but they had always dreamed of being together, since they were kids, and now they were.
Cal tried to break the silence. “I remember how much you enjoy a cup of tea. It’s not the quality we have back home, but it will do for now. When we get back to Baltimore I’ll show you the best grocery in town. It stocks teas shipped directly from England. You’ll love shopping there.”
Claire said nothing so Cal tried again. “When I was in town I saw a store called Weikert-Secord’s Mercantile. That can’t possibly be your place can it? I mean, a girl can’t manage a business like that. You’re just a school teacher.” Cal stopped, watching Claire’s face change from indifference to annoyance. He was a little annoyed himself.
“What are you doing out in this godforsaken place anyway? You belong back East.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed. She was gripping the mug so tightly her knuckles were white. She let out a long breath through her mouth, resolving not to say anything yet. She was still woozy from fainting and his conversation was like a buzzing bee in her ears.
Had he really just plotted out their life? She didn’t want to do any of the things he said—live in Baltimore, shop, teach school. She wanted to run her store, and she wanted to tell him that she was fully capable of doing so. But instead she kept listening, staring silently ahead.
Cal continued to ramble nervously, and as he did, Claire became more annoyed. It was as if their past belonged to someone else and he was just telling a tale. With a start, Claire realized that she was no longer in love with the Caleb she’d been engaged to. The memories she had would always be with her, but the feelings of love, the bonds they had, were gone. Her annoyance dissipated and compassion replaced it.
He talked late into the night, describing to Claire his past four years, telling her how he was wounded, why he deserted, the friend he had found in Cassie and why he couldn’t go back to Gettysburg. He pleaded with her to go back to Baltimore with him, marry him, marry Calvin Moore, and start a new life at his side.
Finally, he ran out of words. Claire looked up to the clock on the mantle, startled to see that it was nearly 3:00 A.M. She had yet to speak; Cal’s overwhelming need to expunge his past had kept her quiet and attentive.
“Cal, it’s very late and we are both exhausted. I have been through an extremely harrowing ordeal and I desperately need to sleep. Much has happened to me since you have been gone, but now is not the time to make any decisions. I was engaged to you years ago, and I am not one to go back on my word...”
“Then you’ll go back, with me, be my wife?” Cal asked hopefully, his face lighting up.
Claire shook her head. “You are not hearing me. Right now I am very tired. And I am also engaged to Tom. You must understand how difficult this is for me.”
“You can’t be!” Cal shouted, suddenly growing angry. “You must have feelings for me. You were still wearing the necklace! You love me and have always loved me. I know it as well as I know my own heart.”
Claire groaned and cradled her head in her hands, not daring to look at Caleb… Cal in the eyes. “Stop! You must give me time to think. I must talk with Tom. I must¼”
She rose from the sofa and headed to the small guest bedroom. “In the morning we will talk,” she told him firmly, closing the door softly behind her.
Cal stared at the door for a moment and then sank down on the sofa, completely exhausted. He had spilled his deepest, darkest secrets to the love of his life. He was certain that tomorrow they would start their lives together again. Claire had always supported him, and after all he had been through, Cal felt he deserved to have Claire as his wife. She’d follow him back East. She had to.
***
The sun poured into C
laire’s guest room, spilling onto the bed and shining onto her face, waking her. She’d only slept a few hours, but she felt better than she had in days. Today she would go home, see her store, and resume her normal life again. She also had to make a decision between Tom and Cal. She had given Cal all her time last night, and now Tom deserved to speak with her.
Claire understood Tom’s anger—she should have told him more about her previous engagement, but thinking Cal was dead, she hadn’t made it a priority. Obviously they should have talked about it sooner. Relationships were built on trust and she didn’t seem totally trustworthy, keeping much of her past from Tom.
She jumped out of bed, dressing quickly and brushing out her hair before stepping into the main room. Cal was asleep on the sofa and Tom was nowhere to be seen. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee filled the room and she hurried over to the blue enamel pot to pour two large mugs. She could use the pick-me-up and the other would be a small
peace offering. She dumped milk and sugar into Tom’s just the way he liked and stepped out into the fresh morning air.
The sky was cool and clear, a light breeze playing at the tendrils of hair framing her face. Claire paused on the porch to drink in the beauty of the homestead. The rosebushes by the porch were gorgeous, the bright green leaves and red and pink blossoms brightened the entire yard. A row of oak saplings led to the corral. In upcoming years, these trees would cool the home and provide shade for hot summers.
Claire had a flash of a rope swing and freckle-faced kids hanging from these trees. The thought made her smile. Tom had talked of having children. Caleb had always been opposed. In that instant, she knew she wanted to have Tom’s babies.
Her past was behind her: she knew where her future would be. With Tom as his wife and the owner of her mercantile. Tom was standing at the corral, his back to her and his arms resting on the railing. He was watching the horses prance around, enjoying the cool morning air and sweet grasses. Claire came up behind him.
“Morning cowboy. How are you?” She said softly. He turned slowly and accepted the steaming mug.
Faith of the Heart Page 14