Mona Hodgson - [Hearts Seeking Home 01]

by Prairie Song

  She could say the same about him. “I best let you get this job done before the coffee cools.”

  Caleb returned the cup to her, then bent over the yoke and effortlessly lifted it into position.

  Watching him yoke the oxen, Anna couldn’t help but wonder if that was what she’d dream about tonight.

  At least Davonna Kamden had chosen not to voice her accusation of thievery in front of her grandchildren.

  Caroline stirred flour into the dough starter, but her mind and heart weren’t in the work. Instead, her thoughts kept returning to the elder Mrs. Kamden’s charge. She’d hardly slept a wink last night because of it. When Davonna had gone back into the wagon to gather a few things, Caroline had hoped she would find the missing locket. When that didn’t happen, Rhoda had whispered her apologies to Caroline and taken her mother-in-law to the Conestoga for the night.

  That had left Caroline to settle the children into their makeshift beds. Of no mind to do anything else, she’d tossed and turned atop her pallet on the lid of her trunk. All she could think about was Davonna Kamden and how much she wanted to get away from her. When she’d first met the elder Mrs. Kamden, the woman had taken an instant liking to her. It was Davonna’s idea that her son employ Caroline on the road west to provide her with the means to join the caravan. They’d lived side by side for several days now. Caroline had given no reason to be distrusted. On the contrary, she’d accepted the woman’s eccentricities and done all she could to aid her.

  Certainly, she wasn’t the only one who entertained concerns for the grandmother. Davonna’s childish manner had puzzled her more than once. But for her to conclude that the locket had been stolen and Caroline was the culprit … Would anyone in their right mind think such a thing?

  Nonetheless, the moment the captain of the Boone’s Lick Company returned from his early morning scouting trip with Rutherford Wainwright, he was sure to include her in an investigation of thievery.

  During this extended midday break, Davonna sat on a quilt under a shade tree up the hill from the wagon. Ian and Rhoda Kamden had gone to the creek with all five of their children.

  Caroline covered the bowl of dough starter and returned it to the new grub box Arvin Beck had made for the farm wagon. Rhoda had nearly insisted on staying behind to tend to the dough and peel potatoes, but Caroline needed to be alone. When she wasn’t thinking about the events of last evening, her thoughts turned to the quilting circle in Saint Charles and to her sister and nieces and nephew. She missed the weekly drive out to Mrs. Brantenberg’s farm with Jewell. She missed cooking meals alongside her sister.

  She missed Elsa Brantenberg, Emilie, Johann Heinrich and the dry goods store. She missed sleeping on a soft bed. And, yes, she still missed Phillip. She liked having someone with whom she could share her life. And caring for someone else’s gaggle of children and difficult mother-in-law wasn’t at all what she had in mind.

  “Miss Caroline!”

  The voice had become familiar when she worked in Heinrich’s Dry Goods and Grocery. Caroline turned toward the gangly young man with the fuzzy beard.

  Oliver Rengler glanced at the bucket of potatoes she had yet to peel. “Oooweee. You want some help with those?”

  “Yes. Thank you, Oliver.” Perhaps having someone to talk to could rein in her thoughts. She pointed to a stool at the back of the wagon. “If you pull that up here, I’ll put you to work.”

  “I’d like that, Miss Caroline.” Oliver fairly ran to the stool then back to the table with it. “This is one of those days I seem to be nothin’ but in Sally’s way.”

  More often than not, Oliver’s sister-in-law seemed put off by him. In Saint Charles, Oliver had spent a lot of time at the dry goods store. The close quarters of a wagon train weren’t as accommodating.

  “Sometimes, we women have a certain way of doing things—our way.” Caroline smiled.

  Oliver chuckled. “That’s the truth, Miss Caroline.”

  “I’m happy for your help.” As he settled onto the stool at the table, Caroline moved a second pot toward Oliver. “You can put the peeled spuds in this one.”

  He grabbed a knife and began to peel, taking a little too much potato in the process. “We can have a sport. See who can fill their pot first.”

  Caroline looked into her tin bowl. “I don’t think that would be fair. I have a much smaller bowl.”

  “Life ain’t fair, Miss Caroline. Owen’s told me that time and time again.”

  She drew in a deep breath and let it out on a wistful sigh. “That may be true, Oliver, but I want to be fair.”

  “I like that about you, Miss Caroline.” He started peeling his next potato. “You’re nice to people, no matter what.”

  Caroline nearly choked on his unassuming compliment, which collided with a series of memories. Her judging Garrett Cowlishaw because he’d fought for the South. Her judging Davonna Kamden because the woman talked too much.

  “Do you like working for that lady?” Oliver looked over at the dogwood tree and the woman who sat beneath it.

  “Actually, I work for Mr. Kamden. I help take care of his children.” And his mother.

  Oliver dropped the remnant of another potato into his pot and looked up at her, his brown eyes widening. “Remember when I said I could be sweet on you if you wanted me to?”

  “I remember.”

  “We were in the dry goods store.”

  Caroline carefully slid her knife around the spud, hoping Oliver would notice how little of its flesh she wasted.

  “You said you weren’t looking for a husband.”

  She remembered that too.

  “You still feel that way?” he asked.

  Caroline nodded. As much as she longed for someone special in her life, she feared opening her heart only to risk losing another husband. She couldn’t, could she?

  “I was just wondering. ’Cause our captain … he looks at you a lot.”

  “He does?”

  Oliver’s exaggerated nod folded his chin whiskers against his chest. “He looks at you like he really likes you.”

  If that were true, his interest would change upon today’s return from scouting when Davonna Kamden planned to report her accusations. And as captain, he’d be obligated to pursue the charge.

  Oliver dropped yet another mutilated potato into his pot. “I seen you look at the captain that way too.”

  “You have?” She moistened her lips. “You must be mistaken.”

  Oliver shrugged, a coy grin lifting his thick eyebrows. The youngest Rengler brother was obviously an incurable romantic.

  If Garrett Cowlishaw was looking at her, it wasn’t in that way. Not after the way she’d treated him.

  However, their past encounters hadn’t seemed the least bit important when she and the captain nearly ran into each other yesterday. When they’d both bent to pick up the fallen letter and their hands touched. He hadn’t seemed any more anxious to withdraw his hand than she had been.

  Caroline ducked her head to hide a blush. What if Oliver was right?

  Garrett pulled up on the reins, slowing his black stallion. While most of the Company enjoyed a much-deserved noon stop, he and Rutherford Wainwright rode on for a look at the road ahead.

  He’d known Rutherford for as long as he could remember. They were boys together in Virginia with big ideas and big dreams. Rutherford had gone to Missouri, found a job, then a wife. They’d both suffered heartache in and around the war, but now Rutherford was living a fresh start. He had his little girl at his side, along with his new wife, Maren. And he gave God the credit for helping him find his way through sorrow, for giving him a second chance.

  Garrett raised his face to the sky. Could he believe God would do the same for him?

  Rutherford slowed his horse, matching Garrett’s slower pace, then looked at him. “You plannin’ on telling me?”

  “What?”

  “Your secret.”

  No point in asking how Rutherford knew he’d been keeping something
from him. It was the nature of good friends to know.

  Rutherford dipped his chin and stared him in the eye. “Doesn’t matter if you’re on your feet or on a horse, you always slow down when you’re deep in thought.”

  Garrett nodded and pulled his horse around to face Rutherford. “I’m ready to tell you.”

  “Good.” Rutherford lifted his hat and shoved it back on his head. “ ’Cause I wasn’t looking forward to wrestling it out of you.”

  He didn’t know why he hadn’t told Rutherford. Except that he’d wanted to forget it all, put it behind him.

  Garrett lifted himself by the stirrups and sat back on the cantle. “In Virginia, before the war, I was married.” That much was easier than expected, and his buddy didn’t look any more surprised than Isaac had.

  After he’d told Rutherford about why he’d joined the war, standing up to his own men to protect escaped slaves, and the consequences, the two of them rode most of the way back to camp in silence, save for the creaks of the saddles and the hoofbeats of the horses.

  Garrett looked at the camp below and the surrounding hills. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  Rutherford raked his woolly hair with one hand. “You ever think about marrying again?”

  Garrett swallowed hard. “Because you did?”

  “There are plenty of better reasons.”

  Nodding, Garrett urged his stallion toward camp. He didn’t have any trouble coming up with a list of reasons why he wished he were married. The challenge would be finding a woman who would be able to put up with him and his pained leg, let alone care about him in that way. The women back home wanted nothing to do with him.

  “What do you make of Caroline Milburn?” Rutherford’s bright-eyed grin told Garrett his buddy knew good and well they were already talking about the young widow.

  Garrett drew in a deep breath and opened his mouth. Then abruptly closed it.

  Truth was … he was tired of his own denials. He could say he admired her, because it was true. He could say she was eye catching. That was true too. But his feelings for Caroline ran deeper than admiration and appreciation, and he didn’t have a chance with her.

  “Does she know?”

  Garrett shook his head. “You think she’d care to know?”

  “She doesn’t seem to hate you anymore.” Rutherford smiled. “I’d say your relations have come a long way.”

  Garrett laughed until he saw the chuck wagon. Mrs. Davonna Kamden stood beside the front wheel. Wearing a plaid skirt with a polka-dot shirtwaist, she wagged a finger at his best cook.

  “Looks like Ian’s mother is giving Boney an earful.”

  The instant Mrs. Kamden saw Garrett riding toward her, the older woman started waving him over.

  As they rode up to the chuck wagon, Garrett waved Rutherford on, then swung down from the saddle. “Mrs. Kamden.”

  Boney took the reins from Garrett. “I’ll take him to the pasture, Boss. Give him a chance to graze before we pull out.”

  Feeling a bit abandoned, Garrett nodded anyway. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Davonna Kamden smoothed the ties on her bonnet. “Captain. We’ll arrive in Independence in two weeks, is that right?”

  “Yes ma’am. That’s my plan, anyway.”

  “Good.”

  “I don’t understand, Mrs. Kamden. Are you in need of supplies? In need of services?”

  She blew out an unladylike breath. “It’s not me, Captain. You will need to leave someone there.”

  Garrett frowned. “No one has said anything about an immediate need to leave our Company.”

  “That’s because they’re afraid to.”

  “Afraid to tell me?” He’d all but given up hope of understanding her, and now he was losing patience. And why was her top lip twitching? She didn’t seem the least bit distracted by it. “Ma’am, if this person is afraid to tell me they need to stop in Independence, how could you know?”

  “That’s what I came to tell you, if you would only listen.”

  Swallowing a mix of irritation and amusement, Garrett met the woman’s rigid stare. “Very well. I’m listening.”

  She glanced around. “In your meetings back in Saint Charles, you said you couldn’t abide troublemakers on our journey west.”

  “That’s correct.” This was about troublemakers?

  Her gaze darted left, then right. “We have a thief in our midst.” She fanned herself with her hand.

  Garrett jerked to attention. “Thievery is a serious accusation, ma’am.”

  “Can you tolerate having someone like that in our camp, Captain?”

  “No ma’am, I cannot. Who is the accused, ma’am?”

  Davonna Kamden looked out over the camp. “You’re looking right at the thief.” She raised her hand and pointed. “There, at the worktable next to my wagon.”

  The only people he saw at the end of her pointed finger were Caroline Milburn and Oliver.

  “Oliver Rengler. Are you sure this isn’t just a misunderstanding?” Garrett shook his head. “Oliver is simple, but he’s as honest as the day is long.”

  Mrs. Kamden tugged the cuffs of her shirt sleeves straight. “Not that poor soul.” She huffed. “The young woman is the thief.”

  Garrett’s throat tensed. He coughed hard against the restriction. “Mrs. Milburn? You’re accusing Caroline Milburn, your grandchildren’s nanny?”

  “I’m afraid so. My locket is missing, and she took it.”

  Of course, he’d have to investigate, no matter how much he doubted the validity of the charge. He was still on shaky ground with Caroline Milburn, and accusing the woman of being a thief would not help his cause in the least.

  So much for his second chances.

  17

  Mutter swung a boot over the seat and climbed down from the wagon. “You’re still making hats?”

  Anna held up her latest handiwork and turned it. “I’m adding the finishing touches to this one, and I’ll be done.” She hadn’t accomplished much else during the noon break, but she had completed two more hats.

  “Shouldn’t we be on our way by now?”

  They both glanced toward the captain’s chuck wagon. The elder Mrs. Kamden stood beside it talking to Boney, probably making the same inquiry.

  Anna rolled the remaining length of ribbon around her fingers and tucked it into her basket. “This has been our longest noon break.”

  “Apparently, Rutherford Wainwright has yet to return with our captain.”

  “I haven’t seen them.” Anna lifted both hats and stood. “But I’ve made enough hats for now.”

  “You are certainly more industrious than I, my dear.”

  “We’re going to need money to start a new life in the West.” Anna carried the hats to the back of the wagon and carefully set them inside. “Every little bit will help.”

  “I could help you make candles to sell. If not to those in our Company, in the settlements we’ll encounter along the way.”

  “That’s a good idea. Perhaps we could get one of these men to rob us a beehive.” Anna wasn’t looking for another job, but it did her heart good to see Mutter interested in such a task again. Neither of them had spoken further of Mutter’s last bout with drunkenness. Nor had there been any more incidents of overindulgence. Or even singing off key. “In the meantime, I thought I’d pay Caroline Milburn a visit. Perhaps she’s heard something about our delay.” After all, the whole quilting circle knew Caroline kept watch on the captain, whether she realized it or not.

  “I certainly hope this doesn’t delay our arrival in Independence.”

  Anna didn’t need to ask Mutter what her rush was. If she hadn’t already emptied the last bottle she’d hidden, she would soon. And then what?

  “The city of Independence is our first real milestone of the trip,” Mutter continued. “Arriving will make us feel like we’re actually getting somewhere.”

  Anna nodded. “That would feel good.” So would selling her hats and buying the supplies to make more. />
  “Go ahead, dear. You run along to see your friend. I’ll put your things in the trunk and pack up the table and chairs.”

  When Mutter busied herself at the table, Anna pushed away the notion that she should stay to keep an eye on her and took quick steps toward the Kamdens’ wagons.

  Feeling a bit warm in the afternoon sun, Anna let her shawl slip to her elbows. Oxen, mules, and horses grazed leisurely in the meadow across the road. A few folks fished along the banks of the creek. The Le Beau boys and several other children, including Gabi, took turns swinging from the board Mary Alice’s husband had hung from a sturdy sycamore branch. Anna waved at Maren and Mary Alice as she passed. She looked up the road in time to see Rutherford Wainwright riding toward his camp. He and the captain had returned, so she wouldn’t have long to visit with Caroline before the Company pulled out.

  Between the Kamdens’ farm wagon and their Conestoga, Caroline and Oliver Rengler were seated at a worktable, peeling potatoes.

  When Anna arrived, Caroline smiled and stood. “I’m so glad to see you.” She pulled Anna into an embrace that seemed a bit intense for a mere afternoon greeting. But then Caroline had seemed sad and withdrawn on the walk that morning. Probably missing Jewell and the children.

  Oliver stood. “Hello, Miss Anna.”

  “Hello, Oliver.”

  Anna glanced at the two piles of shredded potato skins. “It appears Miss Caroline had a big job to do and found a good helper.”

  “I surely did.”

  Oliver shifted his chair to one side for Anna then unlashed another three-legged stool from the side of the wagon. “We’re real late leaving.”

  Anna glanced toward her wagon. “That’s what we were talking about. Any idea why? I saw that the captain has returned to camp.”

  “I think it’s Missus Kamden’s fault,” Oliver said. “She’s been over at his chuck wagon workin’ her mouth like my brother says I do.”

  Caroline sighed.

  “Caroline, is something wrong?” Anna asked. “Are you having trouble with the children? You seemed to be getting on with them right well.”

  “I am. If it were only the children.”