Secrets of the Heart

by Al Lacy

  It was almost five o’clock when Alice told Meggie it was time to go inside. Kathleen blew Meggie a kiss, saying in a low whisper, “Mommy loves you, sweetheart. I’ll be back to take you away from those evil people as soon as I can.”

  She waited until the little girl had disappeared through the door, then turned and walked away, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Friday, October 12, was a warm and sunny day in Nevada as Tom Harned and his son drove up to the railroad station in Reno.

  Tom was dressed in suit and tie, and wore a white shirt he had ironed himself. His black boots were polished, and he wore his best Stetson.

  Caleb had been scrubbed by Mardy Richton until his cheeks were rosy. In the sun’s light his blond hair was a shining halo around his head.

  The blue eyes of father and son—so much alike—shone with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. This momentous occasion would alter their lives completely, and each was more than a little scared for his own reasons.

  It was 1:10 P.M. when Tom and Caleb stepped onto the platform where a small crowd had gathered.

  “Dad…”

  “Mm-hmm?” Tom cast a glance toward the east where the train would appear, but there was no sign of it yet.

  “Should I call my new mother Ma? Or would Mom be better? I can’t call her Mommy, because that’s what I called my real mother.”

  “Tell you what, son,” said Tom, “why don’t you wait until you two get to know each other? Then you can ask her what she’d like you to call her.”

  “Okay. But until then, I gotta call her somep’n. What should I call her?”

  “Just call her ma’am. That’s a polite way to address her.”

  Kathleen was experiencing her own anxiety as the train thundered westward. She stood before the mirror in the washroom of her coach and freshened up as best she could. It had been a long and tiring trip, traveling day and night, with many stops. Dust and soot had a way of blowing into the coaches and covering everything with a gritty film.

  Kathleen dipped a handkerchief into the basin of cool water and dabbed the grime from her face and hands. She removed her new hat, smoothed back her hair with wet fingers and pinned it securely, then replaced her hat. She gave her pale cheeks a pinch and tried in vain to brush the wrinkles out of her dress, which—along with the hat—she had bought hew just before leaving Chicago. She took one last look at herself in the wavy mirror and knew she was as ready as she would ever be. She drew a deep breath and returned to her seat to wait out the few minutes until they pulled into the station.

  The conductor set Kathleen’s heart to pounding like a trip-hammer when he came in the, front door of the coach and called above the clack of the wheels, “Reno…five minutes!”

  First Tom and Caleb saw the billowing smoke, then caught sight of the train chugging down the track. A moment later the whistle blew.

  “I’m scared, Dad,” Caleb said.

  Tom looked down and laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Of what?”

  “Well, what if my new mother doesn’t like me? What if she won’t marry you because she doesn’t want to be my new mother?”

  The engine bell was clanging now, and the train was slowing to enter the station. “Don’t you worry about that, Caleb. You’re a good boy, and she’s going to like you.”

  Caleb swallowed hard and set his gaze on the train.

  Soon people appeared on the platforms of each passenger coach and began to step down from the train. Tom let his gaze sweep along all four cars, wondering which one Kathleen was in. As the agonizing minutes passed, his eyes darted from platform to platform, searching for the face he had memorized from the newspaper photograph.

  There she was, descending from the rear platform of car number three, carrying a small satchel. Tom’s heart thumped his rib cage and his mouth went dry. “Caleb,” he said shakily.

  “I see her, Dad.”

  Kathleen scanned the small crowd as she started down the steps of the car’s rear platform. It took only seconds for her to recognize the man and boy from the photograph. When her feet touched the wooden depot platform, she stepped aside, then stood still as if frozen in time. Her eyes were fixed on the father and son who remained immobile.

  Tom felt Caleb tugging on his pant leg. “Dad, shouldn’t we go to her?”

  As soon as Tom and Caleb began moving toward her, Kathleen took a step toward them, too.

  When they drew up to each other, Caleb was still clutching his father’s pant leg.

  Kathleen smiled at Tom with a touch of apprehension in her eyes, her stomach churning.

  “Kathleen,” Tom said, his heart pounding, “I…I’m not sure what to do.”

  Trembling slightly, Kathleen let her smile broaden and said, “Well, maybe a gentlemanly hug would be appropriate.” She set down her satchel as she spoke.

  Tom embraced her gently as if she might break and said, “I’m so happy you’ve come.”

  “And I’m so happy you wanted me to come.”

  Caleb watched them with wide eyes.

  When Tom and Kathleen let go of each other, she turned to the boy and said, “Hello, Caleb. My, you’re quite the young man. How about a hug from you?”

  Caleb dipped his chin in silence.

  The smile on Toms face faded as he said, “Caleb, aren’t you going to give the nice lady a hug?”

  Caleb brought his eyes up to meet Kathleen’s, took one faltering step toward her, then stiffened as she bent over and put her arms around him. Kathleen said nothing as she let go of Caleb and took a step back, but Tom caught the flash of disappointment on her face.

  “Kathleen,” he said falteringly, “I’m sorry. I don’t understand this. Caleb has been looking forward to your coming.”

  Kathleen smiled softly at Caleb. “I understand,” she said. “He doesn’t know me yet. We’ll get acquainted as time goes by.”

  “Well!” Tom said. “I’m sure glad you’re here!” His eyes dropped to the one lonely satchel at her feet. “Do you have more luggage in the baggage car?”

  “No.” Kathleen dipped her head in embarrassment.

  “Okay, let’s go!”

  Soon they were headed south toward Virginia City, sitting three abreast on the buggy seat.

  Having the child seated next to her made Kathleen think of Meggie, and her heart ached for her little daughter. All of this is for you, precious Meggie.

  Kathleen pointed out to Caleb different landmarks as the buggy rolled south. She chattered to him about the rock formations, the streams and hills, and the small wild animals. Soon the boy had warmed up some.

  When Kathleen grew quiet, Tom asked about her parents, her childhood, and about Peter.

  Kathleen gladly told him about her formative years and talked about her close-knit family When she started to talk about the day they died in the fire, she choked up a little and said how very much she still missed them. She talked briefly about her marriage to Peter—avoiding any mention of his last name—but said nothing about Meggie.

  Kathleen then asked Tom about his past and his marriage to Loretta. When the conversation edged close to Loretta’s death, Kathleen felt Caleb tense up, and she steered the conversation to questions about his school, his teacher, and his friends.

  When Virginia City came into view as they topped a hill, Tom said, “Guess I’d better tell you what arrangements I’ve made for your place to stay until…until we have the wedding.”

  “All right,” she said, smiling.

  “I’ve put you in the Silver Plume Hotel. It’s only three years old, so it’s in good condition, and the rooms are really nice. You’ll have maid service daily. There’s a very good restaurant connected to the hotel, and you can eat your meals there and charge them to the room. Of course, Caleb and I will take you other places for meals, too.”

  It felt good to Kathleen to have a man looking after her. Tom was a warm person and a gentleman, and he made her feel wanted.

  Kathleen smiled with pleasure when s
he saw the hotel. The ornate designs of the doors and windows, and even the sign, showed excellent taste in architecture. This was something she had not expected in the “wild” West.

  Tom guided her inside the hotel, and Kathleen was even more pleased at the interior. The lobby was lavishly decorated with attractive tapestries, curtains, drapes, carpet, and furniture.

  The lady behind the desk saw them coming and smiled warmly at Kathleen, then greeted Caleb. “Her photograph didn’t do her justice, Tom,” the woman said.

  “My sentiments exactly. Kathleen, I want you to meet Donna Mitchell. Her husband, Hank, works with me at the mine. Hank and Donna are dear friends.”

  Kathleen smiled sweetly. “I’m very happy to meet you, Mrs. Mitchell.”

  Donna threw up her palms in protest. “Oh, honey, Mrs. Mitchell is Hank’s mother. You can call me Donna.”

  “All right. Donna it is. And I’m Kathleen.”

  “I’m just so happy for you and Tom, Kathleen, and for this precious little boy. Tom didn’t tell any of us about you coming until just a few days ago. We were surprised, and very pleased to learn he was going to have some happiness again.”

  “I’m glad,” Kathleen said. “We can both use some of that.”

  “Hello, Tom,” came a familiar voice from behind him.

  Tom turned to see the Humberts.

  “Laurie and I noticed your horse and buggy parked in front of the hotel. Is this your bride-to-be?”

  Tom put a hand under Kathleen’s elbow and drew her gently toward the couple.

  She felt warmed by their smiles, but a touch of discomfort coursed through her as soon as Tom introduced them as Pastor Bruce Humbert and Laurie. As Tom explained that Laurie had taken care of Caleb after Loretta died, Kathleen wondered if Tom attended Pastor Humbert’s church. He had said nothing about church in his letters. She thought of her friend Hennie and remembered the sermons she had heard from D. L. Moody. She remained pleasant toward the Humberts but was eager to leave their presence.

  Moments later, as she and Tom and Caleb topped the stairs and moved down the hall, Kathleen pictured God’s Son dying for her on Calvary’s cross. She tried to force it from her mind as Tom stopped in front of a door and said, “Here’s your room, Kathleen.”

  AFTER SETTLING KATHLEEN IN HER HOTEL ROOM, Tom drove her to Mount Davidson to see the Comstock Lode where he worked, then to the house where she would live when they were married.

  Caleb rode in silence, except when Tom or Kathleen addressed him.

  “Here it is, Kathleen,” Tom said, as he pulled up in front of a one-level white frame house. He had painted it shortly before Loretta died and had kept the yard looking good.

  “Its nice,” Kathleen said as Tom hopped out of the buggy and Caleb jumped out behind him.

  Tom hurried around the rear of the buggy and offered Kathleen his hand. Smiling, he said, “May I help you down, m’lady?”

  “Yes, you may, kind sir,” she replied in a light tone, noting the look on Caleb’s face as he waited where the lawn met the street.

  She placed her gloved hand in Toms, and as he helped her down, she felt a warmth flow through her. She’d wondered if men in the Wild West were as gentlemanly as those in the East. Certainly Tom Harned was, for which she was thankful.

  When Kathleen’s feet touched ground, their eyes met for a long moment. Feeling a bit off balance, she covered her feeling of awkwardness by saying, “Let’s begin the tour.”

  “I made some changes inside the house after I received your letter saying you would come, Kathleen. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable if you wanted to redecorate it, and it was still the way Loretta had left it.”

  Kathleen nodded. As Tom took her into each room, Kathleen could tell that the most recent decorating—if she could call it that—had been done by a male.

  When they stood at the front door of the parlor once again, Tom said, “What do you think?”

  “Its a lovely house, Tom. With…ah…your permission, I would like to give it the feminine touch.”

  Tom chuckled. “So you can tell where I made some changes?”

  “Ah…yes,” she said with a grin. “That shouldn’t be a surprise, should it? I mean, after all, God made males and females different, didn’t He. Males weren’t meant to be housekeepers.”

  Tom looked around at the parlor and said, “That’s for sure!”

  They laughed together as Caleb stood quietly looking on.

  “It’s just about suppertime, Kathleen. Are you getting hungry?”

  “I am,” spoke up Caleb. “You’re not gonna cook, are you, Dad?”

  Kathleen’s eyes widened. “Don’t you like your father’s cooking, Caleb?”

  “Well-l-l-l…”

  She laughed again and laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “When your father and I get married, I’ll cook your favorite things, and I think you’ll like my cooking.”

  Caleb smiled for the first time since Kathleen had arrived.

  “What I was going to suggest,” Tom said, “was that Caleb and I take you to the restaurant at the hotel.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Kathleen.

  The six-year-old nodded his enthusiastic agreement.

  The dining room at the Silver Plume Restaurant was filled with the wonderful aromas of savory food, and the place was fairly crowded.

  Tom spotted a table in a far corner and took Kathleen by the elbow as he held Caleb’s hand and steered them toward the table covered with a snowy white linen tablecloth. A small vase stood in the center with the last of the fall flowers. A candle burned next to the vase, casting a soft glow over the table.

  Tom seated Kathleen while Caleb settled his small frame on the chair of his choice.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking up at Tom and smiling warmly.

  “My pleasure, ma’am.”

  A waitress bearing menus and a steaming pot of coffee drew up to the table just as Tom was sitting down. “Good evening, Mr. Harned,” she said. “Hello, Caleb.”

  “Good evening to you, Lydia. I would like you to meet Kathleen O’Malley.”

  The young woman, who was no more than twenty-one, said, “Welcome to Virginia City, Miss O’Malley. Mr. Harned told me that you were coming.”

  “Thank you. I’m pleased to be here.”

  “Lydia’s husband works at a silver mine about ten miles southwest of town,” Tom said.

  Kathleen smiled at the waitress. “I see.”

  When Lydia had poured coffee and left them to decide what they wanted from the menu, Kathleen said, “Apparently you and Caleb eat here quite often.”

  “We have since Loretta—”

  “We didn’t come here much when Mommy was with us,” Caleb said. “But Dad likes this food better than the kind he cooks at home. And I do, too.”

  Tom cleared his throat and gave his son a children are to be seen and not heard look. Kathleen made a mental note that the boy called Lorreta Mommy.

  While Tom and Kathleen looked the menu over, discussing the many selections, Tom said, “Just about a year ago, they brought a chef in here from one of San Francisco’s big hotels. Whatever you choose will be tasty.”

  When the waitress returned with more coffee, Tom gave her the food orders.

  He and Kathleen made small talk while waiting for their meal. But when she tried to draw Caleb into the conversation, he pulled back and only replied with a yes or a no.

  Kathleen had felt she was making some headway with the boy, but there was still something bothering him. She hoped it was only difficulty in accepting a prospective stepmother and not something he disliked about her.

  Toms thoughts were taking a similar turn. Kathleen was such a sweet person, and she was making every effort to win Caleb’s favor. He couldn’t imagine there might be something Caleb didn’t like about her, but the boy was certainly acting funny.

  When Lydia arrived with their food and began placing it on the table, Kathleen hesitantly removed her white cotton gloves
. She had been putting salve on her work-worn hands during the journey from Chicago, and they looked better, but they were still red and rough to the touch.

  They began to eat but soon found they weren’t as hungry as they’d thought. The food looked and smelled good, but their stomachs were too filled with butterflies to do justice to the meal.

  When Lydia came by with coffee, she said, “Is something wrong with the food, Mr. Harned?”

  “Ah…no, Lydia, there’s nothing wrong. It’s just that we’ve had quite a bit of excitement today with Kathleen arriving and all. I guess it has affected our appetites.”

  Lydia smiled. “I can understand that. How about more coffee?”

  Back at the hotel, Tom and Caleb walked Kathleen up the stairs to her room.

  When Kathleen took the skeleton key from her purse, Tom reached for it. “Here. Let me do it for you.”

  He inserted the key, turned the knob, and gave the door a slight shove. “You get some rest,” he said softly, placing the key in her gloved hand. “I know you’ve got to be tuckered out.”

  “That I am,” Kathleen admitted with a sigh.

  “Tomorrow you just relax, and I’ll get in touch with you sometime during the day. If you need to go shopping, I’ll take you. Or if you’d like to walk to the stores alone, I’ll give you some money to get whatever you want or need.”

  “You really don’t need to give me any money,” Kathleen said sweetly. “I’m not your responsibility yet.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, you are.”

  Kathleen smiled. “You’re a good man, Thomas Harned. You come by any time you can tomorrow. I’ll be here.”

  “All right.” Tom looked at his son. “Caleb, you can hug her good-night first.”

  Caleb wrapped his arms gently around Kathleen’s neck when she bent down to hug him.

  “Good night, Caleb,” she said.

  “Good night, ma’am,” came his soft reply.

  Tom gave her another gentlemanly embrace and said, “You get some rest now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Caleb was in bed, waiting for his father, when suddenly he thought of how much he missed having his mother tuck him in and kiss him good-night. Bedtime was always a special time. Loretta would take a few minutes to read to him from the few books they had in the house. Often he knew the stories by heart, but it made no difference. He loved the sweet sound of her voice as she sat on the bed beside him and read. His lower lip started to quiver. When he heard his father steps coming down the hall, he stifled the tears welling up inside him.