Captured Heart (Historical Christian Romance)

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Captured Heart (Historical Christian Romance) Page 3

by Barbara Goss


  The train moved on. It was high summer now, and the days became hot and the nights cool as they climbed to higher altitudes. One afternoon they had to stop the train because of a hailstorm with ice the size of snowballs.

  During the layover a woman from four wagons behind sought out Amanda, knocking frantically on the wooden part of the wagon.

  “Miss Barker!”

  Amanda peeked out at the woman, huddled against the hail and wind, with just a shawl for protection.

  “Goodness, “she called above the noise of the storm. “Do come in!”

  It was hard to guess the ages of the wagon-train women. The stress and rigors of this life made them look older. Amanda classed this woman as somewhere in her thirties. Water dripped from her frizzy curled fair hair and pale, plain face.

  “I’m Eliza Warner, and my baby is sick,” she gasped all in one breath. “I’m scared it’s that cholera. Would you come look at her?”

  “Me?” Amanda was taken by surprise at the request.

  “I heard your family died of it. Thought you’d recognize someone who had it. Would you?”

  “I’m not sure.” But Amanda grabbed her cape, and the women jumped from the wagon into the storm. As they walked backwards against the wind Amanda could feel the balls of ice pounding her body through the wool covering and wondered how painful it must feel through just a thin shawl. She spread out her cape and encircled the thin woman beside her. Eliza’s smile thanked Amanda as they trudged toward the Warner wagon.

  Amanda knew they’d reached the right wagon when she heard the piercing screams of Eliza’s baby. Once inside Amanda knelt beside the infant and felt the child’s forehead. She asked Eliza questions about the baby’s elimination and vomiting, and then shook her head. “It’s not cholera.”

  “Oh, thank You, Lord,” Eliza whispered toward Heaven.

  As the baby stiffened and let out another piercing holler, Amanda rubbed the baby’s stomach soothingly.

  “What’s your baby’s name?”

  “Susannah”

  “A pretty name for a pretty baby girl.”

  “Thank you. Do you know what’s wrong with her?”

  “I think Susannah is cutting her first tooth.”

  “How do you know?” Eliza asked.

  Amanda stood. “I helped Mama with Hazel Jane, my baby sister, and I remember every detail of her infant days. They sometimes run a slight fever with cutting teeth; she’s drooling a great deal, and look at her biting frantically at her fists. You said her diaper changes were normal, and she hasn’t vomited. Her fever is so slight. It has to be a tooth. She looks just about the right age to be cutting one. About four months?”

  “Five,” Eliza answered. “She was born in Saint Louis while we waited for the wagon train to start rolling.”

  Amanda looked about the wagon. “What can we do to make Susannah more comfortable? Have you any camphor?”

  “Yes, my mother packed a whole kit of medicines for us.” She reached under the baby’s cradle, pulled out a box, and handed it to Amanda. Amanda poured camphor on a small corner of a clean rag and rubbed the baby’s reddened gums, then picked up Susannah and rocked her gently to sleep.

  “Thank you, Amanda,” Eliza whispered when Susannah was tucked back into her cradle. “My husband will want to thank you, too. Someone said there was a doctor on the train behind us, so he rode back to find him.” She laughed, “How horribly embarrassed I’ll be if he brings one back in this storm, for only a tooth!”

  “We won’t tell him then!” Amanda laughed back. “We’ll let him make the diagnosis! But seriously, it can’t hurt to have her looked at, just in case.”

  Eliza laughed again, and Amanda realized that without her worried look she wasn’t as old as she’d thought, but closer to her own age.

  “I have this urge to offer you tea, Amanda, but I’ve no fire to heat water! I can’t get used to this rustic life.” She laughed heartily. “Some hostess I am!”

  Amanda laughed with her. How nice it was to have found a friend. They chatted until the hail and rain stopped, then Amanda said good-bye, promising to stop and visit often.

  Approaching her wagon, she was surprised to see Luke leaning against it.

  “Hi! Miss me?” He smiled.

  “Oh, did you go somewhere?” she said, as seriously as she could, which wasn’t easy after just laughing and having fun with Eliza. She was in a teasing mood. Poor Luke, his face hung in disappointment at her words.

  “You didn’t notice? I was gone two days!”

  “I hadn’t seen you but didn’t realize you weren’t here at all. Where on earth would you go out here?”

  “Scouting. This is Indian territory. Most are friendly, but my job is to make sure.”

  “If the Indians are friendly,” Amanda challenged, “how is it people on the train are having things stolen?” And, she wondered, if you were out scouting, why didn’t Larsen know about it?

  “Stolen? Like what?” he asked.

  “Mr. Stegman slept under his wagon last night, and the comforter was taken right off him as he slept. Then Mrs. O’Day said her best bucket was taken from the hook at the side of her wagon. The lady in the wagon behind us is missing a pair of shoes! She’d taken them off to wash her feet, turned around, and they were gone.

  “Usually,” Luke explained, “they try to barter for these things, but either the people wouldn’t bargain, or the Indians here are too poor to trade. At least they aren’t killing to get things. Thank God for that.”

  “I have nothing to thank God for,” she snapped.

  Luke started to say something but seemed to change his mind. Instead he took her hands and asked, “Will you do me a favor?”

  “Since we’re friends, I will try,” she answered.

  “It’s a mighty big one. I need you to do something that may seem strange, without asking questions. I guess that’s called trust. Do you trust me, Amanda?” he asked, squeezing her hand.

  “Right now, I trust you more than anyone, but don’t feel too flattered, my list of friends and family is extremely short these days.”

  “Amanda, don’t be bitter. Remember, the weeds.” He touched her cheek with his hand tenderly.

  She smiled. “That always gets to me, you know. Reminds me of Pa and Phillip.” She pulled her hands from his. “All right, what’s the favor?”

  Luke suddenly took on a business-like face, one foreign to Amanda. “Tomorrow night, after you feed Louise, can you get Helen to come to your wagon for ten or fifteen minutes?”

  “Probably. But why?” His hand snuffed out her words as it gently tapped her mouth. “No questions. Trust me?”

  “Yes. I’ll try.”

  “Thank you. Good night,” he said, kissing her cheek lightly.

  Stunned by his action, she looked up at him in puzzlement.

  “You could at least look dreamy for me,” he said, pouting. “Like you did when Charles kissed your forehead.”

  “But,” she explained as she climbed into her wagon, “I did that after he left.” She closed the rear flap. “Good night, Luke.”

  4

  It hadn’t rained (except for the hail storm) since the day after Amanda buried her family. The trail was dry, hard, and dusty. There were several wagons delayed due to broken axles, springs, or wheels. Eliza walked with Amanda, carrying Susannah in a tote upon her back, Indian style.

  Charles had not returned, and Luke had waved briefly as he rode ahead early that morning with Griff.

  Around noon, Luke and Griff kicked up a storm of dust, riding back to the train. They reined in their horses and spoke animatedly to Mr. Larsen, who called several men together before the train continued.

  Luke rode back to where Amanda and Eliza walked.

  Amanda introduced Luke and Eliza. They continued to walk as Luke rode slowly beside Amanda. Anxious to hear his news, they gave him their complete attention.

  “Ever see an Indian?” he asked.

  “Not up close,” answere
d Amanda.

  “My husband, Martin, and I traded blankets for antelope meat with an Indian a week ago. But I just looked on from a distance,” said Eliza. “Why?”

  Luke scooped his hair back and smiled boyishly. “We are about to go through a small Indian village.”

  “Is it safe?” both women cried at once.

  “Quite. What do you think Griff and I do?”

  Eliza and Amanda looked at each other and smiled.

  “If you have anything to trade, this would be a good opportunity. But be careful, some of them are shrewd.”

  “Can you stay with us?” Amanda asked timidly.

  “Sure.” He grinned.

  Soon the village came into sight. Amanda counted fifteen wigwams and guessed they had nearly a hundred ponies. “Do they live right here in the open all the time?” Amanda asked.

  “No, this is a temporary camp. They are probably here just for the summer, to trade with the wagon trains. Looks like they’re ready to trade plenty of ponies.”

  The train made camp about a quarter of a mile from the Indian village.

  While they lunched along the Platte banks, they watched another wagon train on the trail across the river. They were seldom out of sight of other wagon trains, and that Amanda thought most comforting.

  An Indian chief visited their train that afternoon. He rode proudly up to Mr. Larsen on a mule whose bridle was covered with silver plates and emblems. The chief had a looking glass and comb suspended by a string and all sizes and shapes of ornamental coins and trinkets hanging from his garb. He wore silver earrings almost seven inches long. Amanda and Eliza stared at the sight and even remarked that, despite all his extravagance, he was a fine-looking man.

  That evening the campers could barely prepare their dinners. Swarms of Indians hovered around, trying to swap moccasins, horses, and lariats for money, powder, and whiskey. Martin traded a bucket for a pair of moccasins for Eliza, and Larsen bought enough antelope meat for the whole train to buy and cook in shares.

  After dinner, Amanda remembered her promise to Luke.

  She fed Louise, and then asked Ma to help her move a trunk in her wagon. It was a good excuse, because the trunk really did need moving, and she’d mentioned it to Ma several times before.

  Afterwards they chatted; then Ma said good night and left. Amanda had just finished preparing for bed and was just rolling back her blanket when Ma’s frantic calling brought her to the rear flap.

  “Ma! What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Louise! She’s gone! Did you feed her? Was she all right when you left her? Did she eat all her oatmeal with the medication?”

  “Gone!” Amanda gasped. “She was sound asleep when I left her! How could she be gone?” Amanda grabbed her heavy cape, swung it around her, and hurried after Ma toward the other wagon. She answered Ma’s questions on the way. “Of course I fed her. She ate every bit. Are you sure she didn’t slip off her bedroll or something?”

  They climbed into the wagon, and Ma lit a candle. Louise was missing.

  Amanda tossed restlessly upon her bedroll, too many unanswered questions rattling through her brain. Why had Luke wanted Ma away from Louise? What had Luke to do with Louise and her disappearance? Why hadn’t Ma wanted the incident reported to Larsen? Perhaps the men could have organized a search party for poor Louise. Instead, Ma had just said to wait for Charles’s return. It didn’t make sense.

  One thing she knew for sure: She trusted Luke enough not to mention his part in Louise’s disappearance, at least not yet. Had it been merely a coincidence? Had Luke another reason to want Ma away from her wagon? Why would Luke kidnap Louise? If he had, where would he have hidden her? Could Indians have taken Louise? She had plenty of questions for Luke.

  Ma was quiet at breakfast, which Amanda thought odd, as most mothers would be frantic instead of silent and moody, had their daughter gone missing.

  “Aren’t you going to have Larsen and the men look for Louise?” Amanda finally asked.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I wish Charles would come back. Yet when he does, he’ll be madder than....” She broke off.

  “Do you think those Indians took her?” Amanda asked.

  “Charles’ll handle this. I don’t trust anyone else.” Ma scratched her head in confusion. “It had to be the Indians, who else would take her? Who else?” she repeated.

  “If you report her missing to Larson they could search the Indian village for her,” suggested Amada.

  “No. We will wait for orders from Charles,” she stated with finality.

  Just before the wagons were positioned to roll, Amanda spotted Luke washing his dishes in the river. She ran to join him, greeting him warmly.

  “Got a present for you,” he said, reaching into his breast pocket.

  “You have?” She looked down at his outstretched hand. “It’s lovely,” she exclaimed reaching for the string of brightly colored Indian beads.

  “Did you barter with the Indians, too?”

  “A little.”

  “Thank you, they’re lovely.” She swung them over her head and patted them into place gently. “How do they look?”

  Luke’s face turned serious. He put his thumb under her chin and raised her head. “Perfect.”

  Breaking the spell of his eyes and gentleness, Amanda moved away and asked, “What have you done with Louise?”

  “What makes you think I did anything with Louise?”

  “She’s missing.”

  “I thought that was your job, watching her? Fine job you did, if she’s missing,” he said blandly.

  “You!” she nearly choked. “You told me to….”

  “Sh-h-h,” he warned. “Keep your voice down. That’s our secret, remember?”

  “But I didn’t know you’d use me to ... to ... do something dishonest!”

  “Trust me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m your friend.” He kissed her hand and hurried away, leaving her with unanswered questions and frustrated feelings.

  Careful not to mention the incident with Louise to her new friend, Amanda scuffed alongside her wagon with Eliza and the baby. Yet this new mystery kept her silent and contemplative. She had the feeling Eliza was about to ask about her preoccupation when a cloud of dust approaching the train caught their attention. Amanda thought it might be Luke again, but it was Charles. He saw Amanda, took off his hat, and waved before tethering his horse to the back of his wagon and hopping up alongside Ma, who drove Amanda’s wagon.

  Ma was right, Amanda noticed at lunchtime; Charles was noticeably angry. While they ate, he paced back and forth, banging his fist into the back of the wagon once or twice. Several times he stopped and scanned the campers carefully, as if looking for a certain person, then continued his pacing with an angry, puzzled expression. Finally, after cleaning up after lunch, Amanda found the courage to approach Charles. “Aren’t you going to hunt for her?” She spoke while his back was turned, and he spun around in surprise at her voice.

  His angry eyes softened when he realized who had spoken. “Of course. You didn’t think I’d just let those savages have her, did you?” She was glad he didn’t sound angry.

  “Does this mean you’ll no longer need me?” she asked timidly.

  “Of course not!” He took her hand and rubbed it gently, giving her goose bumps. “You’re family now no matter what; you are staying with us.”

  “Will you leave soon to search for her?”

  “Immediately. I just wish....”

  She tilted her head, wondering what he wished.

  “I wish I didn’t have to leave again. I just got back. I missed you,” he whispered, squeezing her small hand.

  “Missed me?” Her heart thundered beneath her ribs. He dropped her hand, “But now I have something pleasant to look forward to when I return.” He untied his horse, mounted, and rode westward with a wave of his hat.

  “How sweet!”

  Amanda jumped and spun around. “Luke!” sh
e gasped. Tapping her foot impatiently, she added, “You have to stop spying on me like that. Can’t I have any privacy?”

  “Not when you select friends so carelessly.”

  “Carelessly? What’s wrong with Charles? And why is it any of your concern?”

  “Charles is a ... a ...,” he seemed too angry to grasp the right word. “And it is my concern, if we’re friends. Isn’t it?” he added, looking like Phillip again.

  Amanda immediately softened. Luke didn’t arouse the exciting thrill in her that Charles did, but he had a way with her that she couldn’t explain.

  “Of course, it is. I’m sorry.” She smiled. “It’s just that I like Charles. He’s been good to me. Give him a chance. If it weren’t for him...” She hesitated.

  “Just be careful,” he warned again. “If you want to be friendly to him, fine, but promise me one thing: don’t trust him. Okay?”

  Amanda studied Luke carefully. His personality confused her. He reflected Phillip’s boyish innocence one moment and was serious, mature, and intelligent the next. Of one thing she was almost certain: His concern for her was sincere. “I promise.”

  Charles returned two days later without Louise but with another rider whom Amanda immediately distrusted. Arabella-- or Bella, as they introduced her-- was young, fair, blue eyed, and wore too much powder and lipstick, Holding her head high, she seemed arrogant and distant, yet Amanda noticed she hung on Charles’s every word and looked at him adoringly.

  Charles explained that while he had no luck finding Louise, Bella had asked to transfer to this train from the one ahead. She claimed she couldn’t get along with one of the girls in her wagon.

  “Who is this Bella?” Amanda asked Ma later.

  “Charles didn’t tell you?”

  Amanda laughed. “If he had, I wouldn’t be asking you!”

  “Oh, sure.” She chuckled. “She’s just one of the girls. You know, who will work for us in Frisco.”

 

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