Straight For The Heart

by McDonough, Vickie;

  Copyright

  ISBN 978-1-60260-438-4

  Copyright © 2009 by Vickie McDonough. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  One

  Western North Dakota, 1895

  Sarah Oakley glanced over her shoulder, listening for the sound of hoofbeats. How long before their uncle noticed them gone and came after them? A shudder snaked down her spine. If taking a beating would satisfy him, she could endure that for the sake of her siblings. But when he discovered what they’d done, she feared seeing them dead was the only thing that would soothe his vile temper.

  Her arms ached from carrying the heavy load, a constant reminder of her foolish, impulsive decision, but it was the only way she could think to save her siblings.

  They had to get away.

  Far away.

  “Hurry, kids. Walk faster.”

  “Why do you keep looking behind you, Sissy?” Beth turned and walked backward for a moment then faced forward again.

  “Because she thinks Uncle Harlan will come gunning for us.” Ryan pointed his index finger at Beth and pretended to shoot.

  “Don’t scare your sister.” The girl worried far too much for a six-year-old.

  Beth leaned against Sarah’s leg, forcing her to slow her pace. “Sissy, I’m tired. My feet hurt.”

  Sarah shifted her heavy bundle to her other arm and rested a hand on her sister’s head. She couldn’t carry both Beth and the bag of gold coins. “It’s only a mile or two farther. On that last hill we topped, I got a peek of that giant smokestack in Medora. We’ll be there soon.”

  “But that’s what you said last time.”

  “You’re lazier than a one-legged chicken.” Eight-year-old Ryan tucked his hands in his armpits and flapped his elbows up and down. “Brock, brock!”

  Beth gasped and began to cry. “Ryan called me a chicken. Them’s ugly.”

  Tears dripped down her sister’s lightly freckled cheeks and onto her jaw. Sarah’s shoulders and neck tightened. They were running for their lives, and her siblings couldn’t quit bickering. She sighed and patted Beth’s head. “Ryan, leave your sister alone.”

  Sarah glanced up at the sky, but darkening clouds blocked the sun. Lunchtime had surely passed by now, judging by the growl of her stomach. They should have left their uncle’s shack first thing this morning, right after Uncle Harlan and his gang of three unkempt men rode west, but she had waited several hours, in case the men returned unexpectedly.

  A cool breeze dried the sweat caused by her nervousness and the exertion of their quick-paced journey. The dusty path snaked through the thick grasslands of the Badlands. Sarah studied both sides of the trail, looking for hiding places in case she heard hoofbeats. After a moment, her gaze always settled back on the tall smokestack, which looked so out of place surrounded by nature—almost as if God knew she would need it one day.

  “I can’t see that big chimney.” Beth wrinkled her brow and nibbled her lip.

  “It’s still there. You’ll see it when we top the next hill.”

  They could easily get lost in this rugged land where few people lived. On all sides of them, rocky buttes had forced their way through the dense grass. Some buttes were round-topped and grass covered, while others were rocky and rugged. An artist’s palette of color stretched out before her, but she couldn’t enjoy it.

  Too bad their dream of finding a home with their uncle had turned into a race to get away from him.

  “Will Uncle Harlan be mad when he finds out we stole his gold?” Beth asked, glancing up at Sarah with wide blue eyes.

  “He’s an outlaw. He’ll probably shoot us all,” Ryan said. “Didn’t you see the notches on his gun?”

  Beth whimpered and clung to Sarah’s pants, nearly pulling her uncle’s big trousers off her hips. She braced the gold against her chest to free one hand and hiked up the pants she’d worn to disguise her feminine form.

  Sarah glared at her brother. “You told Beth about Uncle Harlan?”

  Ryan shrugged and pulled his gaze away from hers, a wry smile tilting one side of his mouth. She should have known he couldn’t keep something like that a secret, especially since he’d been the one to overhear their uncle talking to his outlaw gang about the next bank they planned to rob. Sarah’s stomach swirled. Her brother had thought it was a game to follow their uncle and see where he had buried his loot. Ryan didn’t realize the action could have gotten him killed.

  Sarah looked up at the clouds. What’s going to happen to us, Lord? Why couldn’t Uncle Harlan have been as I remembered him? She had prayed their uncle would love and protect his brother’s orphaned children, but instead, they were just a nuisance to him.

  She pursed her lips. Now they were running away with his bag of stolen gold.

  “Since we’ve got so much money, I want a horse.” Ryan eyed the sack in Sarah’s hands.

  “I’m turning the gold over to the Medora sheriff.” She hoped to collect a reward that would be enough to take the three of them far away on the train so Uncle Harlan couldn’t find them.

  “But I found it so I should get to keep it.” Ryan scowled and tightened his hands around the canteen strap that looped over one shoulder, then his expression softened. “I could buy you a new dress.”

  Sarah pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Blackmail wouldn’t work on her. “The gold doesn’t belong to us, you know that.”

  “Yeah. It’s stealing if we keep it, and stealing is a sin.” Beth made a face at Ryan.

  He jumped in front of Sarah before she could grab him and gave Beth a shove. “Who asked you?”

  Beth gasped and spun around, falling to the ground. “Ow, ow. My ankle.” She grabbed her right leg and rocked back and forth.

  Sarah dropped the bag of gold and the quilt she carried and knelt beside her sister, giving her brother a stern glare. What would they do if Beth was seriously injured? Please, God. No.

  “How bad does it hurt, sweetie?”

  Tears ran down Beth’s face. “It hurts bad, Sissy.”

  Sarah closed her eyes. They’d gone too far to go back, and even if they did and reburied the gold, surely their uncle could tell it had been tampered with. They had no choice but to continue on to Medora. Sarah straightened. “Ryan, you carry the rifle and the gold.”

  “But that’s too heavy. I can’t—”

  “You will.” Fear that they’d be caught had already worn her nerves as thin as a paper dollar, but she had to remain strong. She reached out to Beth. “I’ll carry you, and you can hold the quilt with our belongings.”

  In less than a half hour’s time, Sarah’s back and arms ached. Nearly out of breath from carrying the six-year-old, she stopped to rest as they crested the next rise. Beth was almost asleep with her head bobbing down and back up.

  A jackrabbit darted across the trail and down a hill. It dashed a few yards away then stopped beside a juniper bush. Its ears twitched. Past the rabbit, a dilapidated shack sat partially hidden in a copse of aspen and pines. If not for the rabbit, she would have walked right past the place and never seen it.

  She
lifted her knee and shifted Beth in her arms. She gazed toward Medora. The smokestack rose up in the distance, appearing closer than it had been earlier, but it was still a long way off. An idea formed in her mind, but just as quickly she dismissed it. Nibbling on her lip, she studied the sky. If only the clouds weren’t so thick she’d be better able to determine the time of day. Maybe there was enough time—if she hurried.

  No, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave the children here and go on alone.

  “Let’s take a break and eat lunch in that old shack.”

  Beth yawned and turned her head from side to side. “Where?”

  “Down there.” Sarah pointed toward the structure. “We’ll be out of sight should anyone ride past the trail.”

  They slid down the hill, sending pebbles cascading. Sarah brushed a spiderweb out of the doorway and peeked inside the shack, glad to see the layer of dirt on the floor was free of footprints. At least no people or critters had been there in a long while.

  “It’s dirty.” Beth stared at the floor.

  “And it stinks, too.” Ryan wrinkled up his face.

  “But it’s shady and will protect us if we get rain.”

  Sarah set Beth down, and the girl held onto the doorframe, keeping her sore foot from touching the ground. Sarah rolled her head and shoulders, trying to work out the kinks.

  Ryan plunked down the gold sack with the name of a Deadwood, South Dakota bank stamped on it. Sarah spread out the thin quilt that held their meager possessions, and her sister hopped over and plopped down. Sarah’s gaze shifted back to the canvas bag and lingered a moment. Using the gold to buy the food and clothing they needed was tempting. They had done without so many basic things that others took for granted for so long now.

  “No.” She shook her head. Guilt would drive her crazy were she to do such a thing. The reward for returning the gold should be sufficient to give them a new start. It had to be.

  “No, what?” Beth jerked her hand away from the bandana that held bread she’d been reaching for.

  “Nothing, sweetie. Just talking to myself.”

  Ryan flopped down and tilted back the canteen. He took several long swigs.

  “Go easy on the water. We don’t know how long that will have to last us.” Sarah untied the knot in the bandana that held their only food. She tore off chunks and gave them to her siblings. It wasn’t much but would have to do until they could find something better. Too bad she didn’t have time to trap and cook that rabbit.

  “Is this all we get to eat?” Ryan turned up his nose at the dry bread.

  “We’ll get more once we get to town.” If things worked out right.

  Beth nibbled at her bread, her eyelids sagging. Sarah sighed and looked around. The lopsided one-room shanty was about as ramshackle as her uncle’s, but it provided protection. She glanced at Beth’s ankle, but the girl’s shoe covered it. If she were to remove the shoe and the ankle swelled, she wouldn’t be able to get it back on. Better to leave it alone.

  Dare she leave her siblings here while she walked to town? They could rest, and she could hurry to Medora and turn in the gold. The three of them could hide out here until the day the train arrived. But could she leave her siblings? Even for a short time?

  Ryan munched his bread and yawned. The long walk had tired him out, too. Sound asleep, Beth slumped over onto the quilt, a bit of bread still clutched in her fist. Ryan leaned back against the splintery, gray wall and closed his eyes.

  Sarah gazed at her exhausted siblings and then at the crooked door. Her train of thought made her body quiver. She couldn’t leave them. But she had to. There was no other choice. She could get to town and back quicker without them. The decision made, she stood.

  Ryan yawned and opened his eyes. Sarah picked up the rifle and handed it to him.

  “I’m going into town alone. You watch over Beth. I won’t be gone too long.”

  “You’re leaving us?” Ryan jumped up, his eyes wide.

  “Beth is too tired to go on. If I go by myself, I can get to town, collect the reward, buy some food, and be back before dark.”

  Ryan’s lower lip trembled. Sarah rested her palms on his thin shoulders. “I don’t want to leave you at all, but Beth needs to sleep for a while and to rest her ankle. We can’t leave her alone and there isn’t enough time to wait until she wakes.” Ryan needed to rest, too, but if she suggested that, he’d only balk at the idea. “You’re a brave boy. I can trust you to take care of your sister.”

  “I’ll guard her.” He dropped back down and laid the rifle across his lap.

  Sarah tucked her uncle’s shirt into the big trousers. She patted her hair, making sure it was neatly pushed under an old felt hat. “Do I look like a man?”

  Ryan shrugged and yawned. “Not to me.”

  Sarah untied the rope holding up her pants and redid it. “I just figured we’d be safer if folks thought I was a man with two younguns instead of a woman.”

  Ryan took a sip from the canteen then lay down beside Beth with his arm around the rifle. They were so young to be left alone in a strange place. Was she doing the right thing? What would Beth do when she awakened and found Sarah gone?

  She couldn’t waste any more time arguing with herself. “Stay hidden and do not leave here, no matter what. It’ll be close to dark before I get back, and I don’t want to have to go hunting for you two.”

  He nodded but wariness haunted his blue eyes behind his false bravado. Forcing a smile, Sarah bent and ruffled his brown hair. “Those shooting lessons I’ve been giving you were timely. Just be careful. Watch Beth closely, and don’t fight with her.”

  Ryan saluted like a little soldier. Leaving them was one of the hardest things she ever had to do, but this was the best solution.

  Half an hour later, Sarah stared at the gray clouds and lengthened her stride. If she didn’t get to town before the storm hit she would get drenched. She shifted the gold to her other arm. Hurry. Hurry.

  The toe of her shoe sent a rock skittering across the narrow trail. She welcomed the noise. Without the chatter of the children, the wilds of the Badlands seemed more frightening. Her gaze darted to the left and then the right. This was the first time she’d been truly alone since her parents’ deaths. Only the wind and her shoes scuffling against the rocky ground made any noise. She’d kept so busy trying to keep her family together and finding food for her noisy siblings that she’d never noticed the quietness before.

  On the farm there was always a dog barking, cows lowing, or chickens clucking. And there was her mother’s soft humming as she worked in the kitchen. The quiet pressed in on her.

  “ ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.’ Walk with me, Lord. Please take these fears away.”

  With each step, her fear lessened. She wasn’t alone. No matter what happened, God was with her.

  She looked skyward again. How long since she’d left Ryan and Beth? An hour? Two?

  The walk was taking far more time than she expected it would. After she turned in the robbery money, would she be able to collect a reward today? They were nearly out of food. How would they survive if they had to wait for payment of the reward?

  A whinny pulled her from her thoughts. About twenty feet off the path, a horse turned to look at her. Sarah tightened her grip on the gold. She hadn’t considered until now that someone else might steal it away from her. She couldn’t let that happen.

  “Hello? Anybody there?” The only sound was the swish of the wind in the tall grass. Sarah scanned the small valley for the horse’s owner. Why would someone leave their mount untied? “Easy now, that’s a good girl.”

  The sleek gray horse jerked its head but stood still. Its black nostrils flared and ears flicked as it watched her. The mare stuck its muzzle toward her open hand and stepped forward, and Sarah wrapped her hands around the reins. There were no human footprints in the dirt near the animal. Could
the owner be injured? She climbed a large rock and cupped her hand over her eyes and searched the valley again, this time with a better view. There were no signs of another human being and no buzzards circling, indicating a person badly injured.

  Maybe the horse ran off, and if that was true, she should take it back to town so that wild animals didn’t harm it. With its reins dragging, the horse could easily trip or get tangled in a bush and then it would be stuck. Also, if the rider was missing, surely someone in town would recognize the mare and send a search party.

  She might even get a reward for returning the pretty mare with the expensive tooled saddle. Her heart danced at the thought of what she could do with the extra money. If she rode the horse to town, she could get back to the kids even sooner.

  She shoved the gold into one of the empty saddlebags, but the flap refused to close. Sarah tied it shut the best she could. The bag of coins was wedged in good and tight and wasn’t going anywhere. A north wind tugged at her hat and sent gusts of cool air into the gaps on her uncle’s shirt. Being so far north, even summer could be chilly at times. She tucked the shirt in, put her foot in the stirrup, and mounted the mare. “Thank you, Papa, for insisting I learn to ride astride, and thank you, Lord, for the horse.”

  Twenty minutes later, she passed a few shacks and then crossed the bridge over the Little Missouri River. She rode past the giant brick smokestack of an abandoned factory. The town of Medora was little more than a handful of buildings—a few brick, but most made of wood or stone—spread out in a valley sheltered by tall buttes on all sides.

  Sarah rode down the wide street, looking for the sheriff’s office. A man to her right shouted, and people stopped on the boardwalk. All turned to stare at her. She tugged her hat down, hoping her hair was still covered.

  In the minute it took to walk the horse into town, a crowd gathered off to one side. A dozen men stood on the boardwalk outside the mercantile and barbershop. Shouts and angry voices filled the streets as the growing crowd surged toward her. Heart skittering, she glanced over her shoulder, hoping they were yelling at someone else, but nobody was on the trail behind her. She didn’t understand their hostility. A thin man hurtled toward her and grabbed the reins. The mare jumped sideways and squealed at the sudden action.