Mona Hodgson - [Hearts Seeking Home 01]

by Prairie Song

  “Oh.” Anna looked toward the chuck wagon then back at Caroline. Caroline nodded.

  Oliver picked up another potato. “You s’pose I should go rescue the captain? Tell him it’s time to round us up?”

  Before Anna or Caroline could respond, Garrett Cowlishaw took long strides toward them with Mrs. Kamden marching in step, her chin held high.

  “Looks like they both been suckin’ on lemons,” Oliver whispered.

  Anna giggled. They could always count on Oliver to come out with the truth, however blunt. Unlike Anna’s mother, the youngest Rengler brother never made you guess what he was thinking.

  Caroline stood, holding a half-peeled potato. Anna and Oliver also stood.

  The captain removed his slouch hat. “Hello, folks. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to have a word with Mrs. Milburn.”

  Oliver shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You want me and Miss Anna to leave?”

  Caroline slipped her hand into Anna’s. Apparently, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Am I in trouble, sir?” Oliver’s eyes widened. He looked at Caroline, then back at Garrett. “You don’t think we’s …” A blush rose from beneath his wispy beard. “We just been peelin’ these taters. Miss Caroline ain’t sweet on me, or nothin’.”

  Anna couldn’t help but smile at Oliver’s innocent assumption. Apparently not amused, Caroline gave Anna’s hand a squeeze.

  The captain cleared his throat. “Mrs. Milburn, your employer—”

  “Mr. Kamden?” Caroline looked at the potato in her hand.

  “No ma’am. It is Mrs. Davonna Kamden who has expressed concerns.”

  Caroline dropped the potato into the pan at her feet. “Concerns?”

  “Yes.” The captain still hadn’t looked Caroline in the eye. “She has reported something missing from her belongings and feels you may have some information as to its disappearance.”

  “A locket, perhaps?”

  “Yes. You know of its whereabouts?”

  Caroline shook her head. “Only of Mrs. Kamden’s accusation.”

  “Accusation?” Anna tightened her grip on Caroline’s hand and squared her shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

  “Mrs. Kamden has accused me of stealing her missing locket, and apparently, the captain has concerns about my honesty, as well.”

  Anna and Oliver both gasped in unison. Oliver started shaking his head.

  “I never said …” The captain looked at Davonna Kamden then to Caroline. “I am merely doing my job.”

  Anna drew in a deep breath and looked at Mrs. Kamden. “With all due respect, ma’am, you must have misplaced the locket.”

  Mrs. Kamden pinched her lips together as Anna had seen little Maisie do when Caroline scolded her.

  “Then someone else is to blame,” Anna said. “Caroline would never—”

  Garrett Cowlishaw cleared his throat. “Mrs. Milburn. Surely you can understand my obligation to consider any and all possibilities.”

  Caroline arched her eyebrows. “Including the one that suggests I am a thief?”

  “Yes ma’am. Facts, not personal opinions, are what I need in order to investigate.”

  Oliver’s chest puffed out. “Investigate? Miss Caroline?”

  Anna agreed with Oliver. This woman’s accusations were preposterous.

  Caroline rested her hand on Oliver’s arm. “It’s all right. You’ll see. Mrs. Kamden is worried sick about her locket, and the captain is only doing his job.”

  Oliver scrubbed his whiskered cheek. “But—”

  “It’ll be all right.” She met the captain’s gaze, now unyielding. “I say we get to the facts.”

  “Agreed.” Mr. Cowlishaw pulled his slouch hat taut. “Mrs. Kamden said she kept the locket in her belongings in the smaller wagon you share.”

  “That’s correct. Along with three of her grandchildren, but all five of them go in and out of the wagon regularly.”

  Mrs. Kamden stiffened. “You’re accusing those innocent children?”

  “I’m only stating the facts. That’s what the captain said he wanted. And the more facts, the better.”

  Mr. Cowlishaw drew in another deep breath. “Mrs. Milburn, had you ever seen Mrs. Kamden’s locket?”

  “I have. She’s not worn it on the trip, but I did see the locket once when she took it out of the box to show it to me.”

  The older woman nodded. “That’s a fact, Captain. So she knew where I kept it.”

  “That doesn’t mean I took it. Others—”

  “The children, you mean?”

  “Yes, and your son and your daughter-in-law. They all knew you kept it in your jewelry case.”

  Anna felt like cheering. Not only was Caroline remaining as cool as a crock in a root cellar, she was keeping her wits about her in this ridiculous investigation.

  The captain flapped his hat against his thigh. “I see.”

  Mrs. Kamden raised her chin. “You see what, Captain Cowlishaw?”

  “Mrs. Kamden, I see that this very important matter will require more attention. Further inquiry.” Garrett Cowlishaw returned the hat to his head. “Would you have me do that now, delaying our departure all the more, or might my investigation wait until we arrive at Independence?”

  “Very well.” Mrs. Kamden pressed her fingertips to her right temple as if to restrain an oncoming headache. “She is good with the children.”

  The captain nodded. “I’ll escort you to your wagon then, and we’ll be on our way.” He cupped the elder woman’s forearm and turned to leave.

  Anna added her sigh to Caroline’s. Yes, matters such as this went a long way to help Anna keep her concerns about her own mother in perspective. At least Mutter kept her insolence to herself. Mrs. Kamden had no such familiarity with discretion.

  Poor Caroline.

  Now the captain would be required to keep watch on her. And for all the wrong reasons.

  Caroline knelt in front of her trunk and set the candle lantern on the floorboard beside her. She pulled the official stationery of the Department of War from an envelope, taking care not to hold the paper too close to the dancing flame. Pressing the folded letter to her chest, she sat back on her heels. The three youngest Kamden children were tucked in and sleep-breathing, Maisie’s like the purr of a kitten. Caroline closed her eyes and quieted her spirit.

  Thankfully, Rhoda had agreed to move her mother-in-law into the Conestoga until the good captain could reconcile Davonna Kamden’s concern that Caroline was a thief.

  Caroline blew out an unladylike sigh of relief. This was indeed one day she was glad to see come to a close. The poor woman couldn’t actually believe Caroline would take her locket … had taken it. Garrett Cowlishaw didn’t believe it. She’d seen the vein jumping in his neck and heard the tension in his mandatory questioning.

  She’d seen something else in his hazel eyes too. A look she recognized from days gone by. Days with Phillip. Was it possible there was some truth in Oliver’s assumptions that the captain fancied her, despite her harsh treatment of him?

  Caroline unfolded the sheet of paper Garrett had delivered to her on that cold day last November.

  Department of War, Washington, District of Columbia

  Dear Mrs. Milburn,

  It is with deepest regret that I write you. Your beloved husband, Colonel Phillip Milburn, served our country well, earning the loyalties of his regiment and indeed the entire army.

  Peril beset the good colonel in the Battle of Nashville, 16 December 1864, where the Union had suffered 387 killed, 2,562 wounded, and 112 missing. Colonel Milburn was instrumental in the taking of Shy’s Hill, the source of much of the carnage. Though mortally wounded, he led his artillery unit to destroy the entrenchment and the cover it had provided the sharpshooters of the Confederacy. The Union ultimately prevailed in the battle, with no little thanks to the sacrifice made by your husband.

  A brave patriot, your husband. He succumbed to his injuries the following day, 17 Dec
ember 1864, and was buried with full military honors near Nashville.

  A box of the colonel’s personals will be forthcoming. You may expect it to arrive shortly.

  With deepest sympathies,

  Major Augustus Shnebley, United States Department of War

  Once again, the finality of the letter washed over Caroline. She blinked hard against a ready wall of tears. Determined to cry no more for what was or could have been, she folded the letter and rose to her knees.

  “Good-bye, Phillip.” If it were safe to do so, she’d burn the letter in the candle flame. Instead, she returned the paper to the envelope and slid her past back into the trunk.

  Caroline folded her hands and bowed her head. Following Mrs. Brantenberg’s good teaching from the quilting circle, she asked God to take her scraps … the mismatched remnants of Phillip’s life and death. Saying good-bye to family in Saint Charles. The challenges of caring for the Kamden family. She also gave Him the puzzling piece of new fabric that was her attraction to Garrett Cowlishaw, an unlikely pattern at an unlikely time.

  The sound of footfalls quickened Caroline’s heartbeat. Who would be out this late? And so close to her wagon? She blew out her candle in a swift puff. Quiet and still, she watched two silhouettes grow on the oiled canvas.

  Caroline felt around for any sort of weapon but only came up with a whittled gun tucked into Duff’s boot.

  No more steps. Silence.

  “Caroline?”

  “Rhoda?” She let herself breath again.

  Caroline struck a match and relit the candle. The youngest Mrs. Kamden stood at the front of the wagon. When Caroline stuck her head out of the opening, she could see that Rhoda hadn’t come alone.

  “Mrs. Kamden? It’s late.” Caroline looked at one woman then the other. “Is something wrong?”

  Rhoda faced her mother-in-law, her eyebrows arched. “Mither Kamden needed a word with you.”

  The elder Mrs. Kamden remained quiet, her hand pressed to her chest.

  “Mither?” Rhoda’s eyebrows angled upward.

  Davonna Kamden moved her hand, revealing a shiny locket dangling from her neck.

  “Your locket,” Caroline said. “Yes, dear.”

  “You found it. Where?”

  Davonna shifted her weight. “It’s an amusing story, really.” Good. “I could use a little amusement.”

  “Well, you see, I was knitting in the wagon when my yarn sack fell off my lap. Ian has real good hearing and asked what the jingling sound was. Yarn doesn’t usually make much noise.”

  “It was the locket.”

  Davonna offered a brief nod, her lips pursed. “Ian found it on the floorboard, chain and all.”

  Caroline straightened. “I didn’t put it in your knitting sack.”

  “Of course not, dear.” Davonna rubbed the locket as if it were a good-luck charm. “I must have put it in there. I’m afraid all this roaming around is making me, well, a little absent-minded.”

  To say the least.

  Rhoda sighed. “I, for one, am happy to have that mystery solved.”

  Caroline didn’t feel as good about the mystery being solved as she would have expected. Now, the good captain would have no reason to make a deeper inquiry into her secret life as a locket thief. Tickled by her sarcastic thoughts, Caroline absently let out a laugh.

  “You see, Rhoda,” Davonna said, “I told you our Miss Caroline was a jovial sort and would find the whole affair befitting of a hearty laugh.”

  When Davonna and Rhoda joined in the laughter, Caroline let them assume her giggle concerned the locket. But her amusement quickly gave way to her concern for the elder Mrs. Kamden.

  18

  Finally alone after five days on the road, Caleb sat at the top of a hillock on Sunday morning. He watched as colors as bright as his mother’s spring flower garden streaked the morning sky.

  The wagons weren’t rolling today. The group had voted that Sundays would be their sacred Sabbath rest, which suited Caleb just fine. Rest sounded real good. He could use the time to do some thinking. His problem was deciding which topic to tackle first. Where he was headed and what he’d do when he got there. Why his boss seemed bent on shepherding him. Or should he concentrate on what he would do about the distraction Miss Anna Goben was proving to be? He’d surprised himself as much as he’d surprised her when he’d told her that her smile was worth more than any cup of coffee. Not the best compliment, now that he thought about it, but she’d seemed pleased anyway.

  It had been easier to avoid her before he knew she and Boney only shared the love of two good friends.

  The Scripture lay open on Caleb’s bent legs, his hand resting on a familiar passage from the book of Psalms. He felt more in common with King David than any of the other Old Testament men. Not that he was destined to be a king, but his sin, though not the same as David’s, had devastated his own people.

  Footsteps squeaked in the dewy grass, causing Caleb to jerk. Garrett stood beside him.

  “I’ve only known one other man who was as committed as you are to reading that book. He was a preacher in my regiment.” The words came out on a huff as Garrett folded his legs and settled on the ground beside Caleb.

  “I read more out of desperation than spiritual fervor.”

  “All of us carry scars from the war, but not every man turns to God like you have.”

  Caleb sighed. If only he’d remained consistent in his choice to follow God in the first place.

  “That’s what I came up here to talk to you about,” Garrett continued. “Desperation?”

  Garrett chuckled. “Some might say I’m a little desperate.” He plucked a blade of grass and rolled it between his fingers. “It’s Sunday. You’ve done such a good job of reading Scripture every morning. I thought you might like to preach.”

  The mere thought stung Caleb’s heart. “Sorry, but I can’t.”

  “Sure you can.” Garrett glanced at the open pages. “It’s basically the same as all the other mornings. Only difference is you talk a little about the verse. How about the passage you were just reading?”

  Psalm 51. Have mercy upon me, O God.… For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me.

  The verse still stung his heart.

  “I can’t preach.” He wasn’t clean enough.

  “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “Take your pick. I’m not a preacher.” Caleb closed the Bible and stood. “It’s time I get to my chores.”

  Caleb took quick steps down the hillock toward camp with Garrett close behind. They’d just reached more even ground, when Garrett broke the silence.

  “See you at the breakfast table?”

  Caleb nodded and waved his hat, then continued down the narrow path toward the chuck wagon. No need to ask where the captain was headed. To see the Kamden children. Or, rather, their red-headed nanny.

  His boss was a good man. Not above jumping in and getting his hands dirty on any jobs needing to be done. The first night the Company set up camp, the captain had been the one to dig the latrine for the women. Garrett also had a touch for teaming up the men who might work best together. Their leader didn’t believe in letting bad feelings fester. And no matter how sorely someone tested his patience, he treated everyone with respect. He certainly deserved a second chance at love.

  Now, if Garrett would only give up the notion that Caleb would make a good preacher. He cared too much for all of them to pretend he was qualified to be their spiritual leader. He was already crossing the line between truth and lies when standing before the Company reading Scripture like a saint.

  He’d already grown fond of many of his fellow travelers, which fed the fear that he’d let them down. He couldn’t allow himself to fail the people who depended on him. Not again.

  Unfortunately, that anxiety kindled impatience with anyone who didn’t follow the rules to the letter. Miss Hattie Pemberton and Miss Anna Goben were among those. Although he’d been right to inquire after them and to remin
d the young ladies of the Company’s policy, he really didn’t need to be so abrupt.

  He owed them both an apology. He’d intended to deliver one Friday evening when he saw Miss Goben charging toward the pasture, but she had the canvas and hoop on her mind.

  Turning toward his camp, Caleb caught sight of a familiar green calico dress. Anna Goben held the lead rope of an ox. It looked like she’d be the first to receive an apology, after all.

  Her steps light and the rope slack, she led the steer toward a less populated patch of grass. Were her lips moving? Was she scolding the animal? Comforting it? He chuckled at the thought. But as he drew closer to her, he picked up a melody. She sang in German, but Caleb recognized the tune to the familiar hymn, “Give to Our God Immortal Praise.”

  Wonders of grace to God belong; repeat His mercies in your song.

  She apparently had a better understanding of God’s grace than he did.

  Just as quickly as his shoulders sagged under the burden of his past, he pushed the memories from his mind. He couldn’t change what he’d done on the battlefield. But he could try to right his impolite behavior.

  Despite his first impression of Miss Goben, she truly was a marvel. She cooked, helped her grandfather with the livestock, fetched water, looked after her mother, created hats, yoked oxen, and slept in a hammock suspended between a wagon and a tree. Those weren’t all standard activities for a female who was also an eye-catching young woman.

  Caleb slowed his steps.

  Fact was, he’d found Anna Goben intriguing from the moment she’d summoned Boney Hughes away from the altar. And then approaching him on her grandfather’s porch, her shoulders squared. Then, again, the evening he’d followed her to the creek bank and watched her bury what he was sure were bottles of liquor. Friday evening, he’d caught her watching him intently while she pretended to busy herself at the grub box on the back of the wagon. From what he’d seen of her, it didn’t seem there was anything she couldn’t or wouldn’t do to provide for and protect her family.

  And she sang about God’s grace and mercy. To an ox.

  He chewed his bottom lip. If he was thinking so highly of her, it might be best he maintain some antagonism between them. Fondness and affections weren’t something his heart could afford.