Secrets of My Heart

by Tracie Peterson

  “Of course not.”

  “Well, it may sound shocking, but what you decide doesn’t change the truth. God will still be God. He wants us to come to Him, to love Him, but it doesn’t keep Him from loving us. The Bible says, ‘But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.’ God loved us enough to do that even though we were against Him.”

  “But surely I have some responsibility in saving myself from hell.”

  “Christ gave His life and died a brutal death to save us. What more can you do?” Faith paused to let that sink in and then continued. “Don’t get me wrong, we do have certain responsibilities. We are to come to Him—to yield ourselves in obedience. And daily we should strive to be like Him—not to save ourselves from hell, but to draw nearer to Him. Only He can save us.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Well, it needn’t be difficult. Jesus said in the Gospel of John that He is the way, the truth, and the life, and that no one cometh to the Father but by Him. It’s always and ever about Him. ‘For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God.’ Have you ever had to do something in order to earn a gift?”

  “No. I suppose not.”

  “God loved you enough to die for you, Nancy.” Faith glanced at her and smiled. “Just cherish the thought of that kind of love.”

  Her words stayed with Nancy even after they’d changed the subject to speak on other things. When Nancy saw the homestead come into view, her eyes filled with tears. There was something special about coming home. Something she’d never allowed herself to believe or consider before now. She dabbed at her tears with the back of her sleeve and soaked in the sights and sounds. She was home, and for once it felt right. For once she was going to cherish not only God’s love but her family’s love as well.

  “It’s so good to have you here,” Nancy’s mother said, squeezing her daughter’s shoulders as they embraced.

  “I’m sorry for not giving you any warning.”

  “Nonsense. That never matters. Though your father is off on one of his treks and your brothers aren’t here.”

  “But I am,” fourteen-year-old Meg declared with her hands on her hips. “And I want to hear all about life in the big city. Have you been to any plays or operas? How I long to go to an opera.” She danced around the room, her braids flying out behind her. “I’d love to see the ballet.”

  “I did go to a play not long ago,” Nancy admitted. “It was lovely and very funny. The theater in Portland is said to be some of the finest in the West.”

  “And did the ladies wear Worth gowns and jewels?” Meg asked with a sigh.

  “I did see one or two gowns that were sure to be Worth, but I saw a whole room of them at a birthday party just last night.”

  “You did? I’m positively green with envy.”

  “Envy is a sin, Meg,” Mother reminded her youngest.

  “Oh, bother. I’m just a sinner, then. I try not to be,” Meg said, giving Nancy a look of contrition. “But sometimes it just worms its way into me. Tell me about the Chinese. Do they really go about in their native costumes?”

  “They do. Well, some of them do,” Nancy said, doing her best to remember. “It’s been a while since I was in Chinatown, but once when I was there I sampled their food. It was very unusual.”

  “Oh!” Meg gave an even bigger sigh. “I wish I could see it for myself. I’ll positively perish out here on the farm before I get a chance to see Portland, much less the world.”

  Grace took hold of her youngest as she danced by. “Margaret, I know you have chores to do. Why don’t you get them done, and then you’ll be able to spend time this evening visiting with your sister about all these things?”

  Meg frowned. “You’re so lucky to be grown up and not have chores.”

  Nancy laughed. “I have chores. I run a boardinghouse and have plenty of work to do.”

  “Well, at least you’re the one in charge. No one orders you around like they do me.”

  “Meg, you are breaking my heart,” Mother declared, folding her arms across her chest. “Perhaps you’d like to spend next Saturday helping me sort the attic.”

  Meg’s eyes grew wide. “But next Saturday is Sarah Armstrong’s birthday party.”

  “Then maybe you should make yourself scarce and do the work you have to do so that I forget about wanting to clean the attic.”

  Nancy watched as Meg hurried from the room. She could remember her mother saying such things to her when she was Meg’s age and complained about the workload.

  “She’s such a handful,” Mother said.

  “Worse than me?” Nancy asked, then quickly followed up, “Don’t answer that. I know I was a beast of a child.”

  “You weren’t a beast of a child. You were just very wounded and hurt by the loss of your brother.” Mother took a seat across the table from Nancy. “We all were.”

  “We never talked about it much.” Nancy remembered the pain more intensely here in the house where Douglas had died.

  “I tried to talk to you about it, but . . .”

  “But I pushed you away. And probably said ugly things that I’d rather not remember.”

  Her mother gave her a sympathetic smile. “I just remember how much you were hurting and how I couldn’t help you.”

  Nancy hadn’t imagined that her mother could see anything past her own pain. “It hurt so much. I blamed God and wanted nothing more to do with Him. He was cruel, I thought. Cruel to take such a sweet little boy away from the family who loved him so dearly. I wanted nothing more to do with Him.”

  “And I clung to Him even more. In my brokenness I saw no other hope.” Her mother paused. “I wish I’d had more strength in order to be there for you—to comfort you and encourage you. I knew you were devastated, but then I learned I was expecting Meg.”

  “I was angry when I found out,” Nancy admitted. “I thought it cruel to take Douglas only to give us another baby. I didn’t want to know the new baby. I didn’t want to care. It hurt too much.”

  “My poor Nancy.” Grace wiped the tears that came but never looked away.

  “Mother, I’m truly sorry for the way I’ve behaved toward you and Father. I’ve tried to set things right with God, but I’m still not sure I’m on the right course. I must surely do something more than ask for forgiveness.”

  Her mother smiled. “A surrendered heart will show in your actions. Perhaps that’s what you want to see in yourself. But just remember that you can’t save yourself by some course of works. God only asks that we come to Him, yielded and trusting. Believe me, those two things are hard enough.”

  Nancy nodded, unable to stop thinking about Seth and what she’d overheard. “Trust is very hard,” she murmured. “Probably the hardest thing of all.”

  Chapter 19

  Well, it’s empty,” Seth said, closing the door to the small shed. It wasn’t much larger than six feet by six feet and hidden so well by the overgrown brush and trees that they had nearly missed it.

  “Do you suppose they beat us to it?” Gabe asked.

  “Possibly.” Seth scanned the surrounding area. “But on the other hand, it doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in some time. And you said there weren’t any tracks.”

  “True enough. Maybe Albert didn’t have anything stored here. Maybe he was waiting for a shipment.”

  “Could be.” Seth moved toward the river. “My guess is that someone brought him the supplies via the river and then offloaded the goods down here.” There was a fairly smooth rocky outcropping that Seth figured could easily be used as a makeshift dock. “After that, Albert brought it up here and stored it.”

  Just then they heard the sound of horses on the road. Knowing the road’s position above the river would make it easier to spot them, Seth and Gabe hurried to disappear into the brush. They ducked down into the vegetation just as the party came to a stop above them. Seth had no doubt this was Berkshire or at least hi
s hirelings.

  “Spread out. It has to be in this area, according to the map,” someone declared.

  Seth and Gabe stayed hidden while the newcomers spread out and started looking for the cache. The men weren’t sure of the area and stopped several times to consult the map. It was a full hour before they spotted the small building, and all the while Seth feared he and Gabe would be spotted, or someone might find where they’d hidden their horses.

  “It’s over here,” one of the men called.

  The others came running, but Seth didn’t recognize any of them save one. Newt Hanson brought up the tail end. From the way he barked out orders, he was apparently in charge.

  “I’ll go in first,” he told the others. “You keep your guns handy and an eye out for anyone who means to interfere.”

  A light rain had begun to fall, dripping down through the trees and brush. Seth didn’t dare so much as draw a deep breath. No doubt if he and Gabe were discovered, Hanson and his men wouldn’t be welcoming. Worse still, Seth wasn’t sure what Hanson’s attitude would be when he found the building empty.

  “Nothing here. Let’s move on to the next one.”

  Hanson’s lack of concern made Seth curious, but there was nothing to be done about it. Perhaps Albert had told his cohorts that not all of the caches would be full at the same time. Maybe these men knew that it was completely questionable whether any of the storage cabins would hold what they were looking for.

  The men quickly formed ranks and climbed back up to the road. Seth and Gabe remained in place until the sound of horses and wagon faded.

  “Wanna track them?” Gabe asked.

  “Of course. Are you up to that?” Seth grinned. Gabe was probably the best tracker in the region, second only to his father, Alex Armistead.

  Gabe rolled his eyes. “I think I can manage. We’ll give them a bit of a head start, but since they don’t seem to be anticipating any real trouble, I doubt they’ll try to hide their progress.”

  Seth got up and dusted the brush off his pants. “Let’s get to it, then.”

  They had hidden their horses down by the river about a quarter of a mile away. Seth had been afraid one of Hanson’s men might trail down that way and find them, but thankfully the men had stuck to a tight radius around the cache’s location.

  The horses seemed unconcerned as Seth and Gabe rejoined them. They’d been enjoying the grass and had little interest in the men. Seth untied his horse and climbed on. Gabe did likewise.

  “They headed north along the river,” Seth said.

  Gabe nodded. “There are quite a few little islands in the river between here and Portland. If I were going to hide something, I might use one of those.”

  “I thought of the same thing when Nancy mentioned that the maps were all drawn around the river. But there are lots of good hiding places in the rocky outcroppings, coves, and brush.”

  “The islets might have been more worrisome when the river levels were higher than usual or flooding, but even so, Albert would have had plenty of time to move the guns to higher ground.”

  Seth had also considered that. “Pritchard had been doing this for quite a while. My guess is that he had friends from his days on the river who helped with deliveries and keeping it quiet. Nancy said Albert spent quite a few years on the river doing just about every job. The fact that he kept river charts suggests that he even piloted boats at one time or another. With his knowledge of the river and the area, he wouldn’t have had any difficulty putting together the hideouts and the people he needed to assist him.”

  “Which is why he was so successful.”

  “Until he managed to cross the wrong man.”

  Seth had read the report on Pritchard’s death. He’d sustained a heavy blow to the back of his head. It was dismissed as being inflicted when he fell, but Seth felt with some certainty that human hands had done the deed. Pritchard was in someone’s way, or he had outrun his usefulness. Either way, it had cost him his life.

  They tracked the men to the next cache. With the sun beginning to set, Seth and Gabe had both wondered what the men intended to do. They were well upriver from Portland, and with no sign of a town nearby, there wouldn’t be a hotel or even a livery in which they could spend the night. It wasn’t long before it became clear that the men intended to make camp and utilize the cache’s small building for shelter.

  “I guess we’ll be sleeping out under the stars,” Gabe said, squatting down behind a bush. “At least the rain stopped.”

  Seth shook his head. “I wish I’d thought this out better. I didn’t bring much in the way of supplies.”

  “I don’t think we’re all that far from Mikelsson’s Trading Post,” Gabe replied. “I could ride there and back in a couple of hours, probably, and get us some food, blankets, and whatever else you think we need. We’ll have to run a cold camp or risk being spotted up here.”

  “Yeah, I already figured that too.” Seth put his binoculars aside and reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out several bills. “Use this. I get expense money from the government for anything I need in order to do the job properly.” He smiled. “I think that might allow you to include dessert as well as supper.”

  Nancy awoke the next morning before it was even light. She stretched out in her old bed, remembering her youth and the loneliness she had known. The last time she’d been here was the night before she’d run off to marry Albert. It seemed like a lifetime ago. How foolish she had been.

  Getting up, Nancy tried to pray. She thought of all the things Faith and Mother had said to her regarding God. It seemed like every time she started to pray, her thoughts were only of herself. She was going to make a real effort to focus only on God. But what should she say?

  “Lord,” she began in a hushed whisper as she took a hairbrush to her hair, “I want to think about you and what your will is. I’m sorry I keep thinking of myself and my problems. If I understand correctly, I can pray about those things too. Mother assured me that you want us to bring our cares to you. However, I want to dwell on you—to honor you and thank you for all you’ve done for me. I don’t know that I even have the words.”

  She put the brush aside and began to plait her hair. “I know that you have been there for me even when I turned away from you. You have always been so faithful, and I thank you for that.”

  A smile came to her lips. It wasn’t so hard to ponder God when you thought of the good things He’d done.

  “I know you have done so much for me over the years. Things I never even noticed, and I thank you for those things—the times you protected me from harm, the times you prompted me to do good.”

  She continued to whisper her thanks while dressing. The sun was coming up over the horizon, and for a moment she halted by the window to look out over the pasture. It was serene. She thought of the years she had played in those fields, taken long walks, or helped herd sheep. She had known a good life on this farm. She’d had good parents who loved her and brought her up to fear God. Why had she been so heartless and cruel to them?

  “I’m a wretched person, Lord. I don’t deserve your mercy. I don’t deserve love.” Tears came unbidden. “I loved my brother more than I loved you. I loved myself more than others. How can you love me?” She hugged her arms close. “How could anyone love me?”

  She made her way downstairs, fearing that if she remained alone, she would start crying in earnest and might never stop. To her surprise, Nancy heard voices coming from the kitchen and paused. Should she avoid whoever was there?

  “Nancy, is that you?” her mother called. “Come join us.”

  Nancy peeked into the kitchen and found her mother, Aunt Hope, and Faith sitting at the kitchen table with Bibles open before them.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Nonsense,” her mother said, pushing back the chair beside her. “We have a time of prayer and Bible reading each morning and would be honored if you joined us. We planned to invite you but wanted you to be able t
o sleep in this first morning. When we finish up here, we’ll head to church. I hope you’ll come with us.”

  Nancy smiled. “Of course.”

  She took a seat, and Aunt Hope touched her hand. Nancy turned to face her. Hope smiled. “You’ve been crying.”

  In the past, Nancy would have tried to hide it. “Yes. I suppose I was.”

  “Want to tell us about it?” her mother asked.

  Nancy considered for a moment. There had been a time when she would have hidden her feelings from her mother for fear of . . . what? The truth?

  She sighed. “I was trying to take Faith’s advice and focus my prayer on God and all that He’s done for me. Instead it just reminded me of how wretchedly I treated all of you and how undeserving I am of love. It’s no wonder I’ve been without it for so long.”

  She quickly lowered her gaze. She hadn’t meant to say that. Now her mother and the others would want to know what she meant. They’d want all the details about Albert and why Nancy felt unloved.

  “Often we have so much love around us—given to us—but we push it away,” Aunt Hope said. “I was like that for a long time, so certain I couldn’t be loved. Convinced I was undeserving of love.”

  “I went through that too,” Nancy’s mother admitted. “I had hardened myself to be able to deal with the difficulties of life, and in hardening myself against the pain, I hardened myself against love, as well.”

  There were no questions. No condemnation. Just sympathy and understanding. Nancy shook her head. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve behaved. I truly am. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Of course. That was done long ago,” her mother declared while Aunt Hope nodded. Faith said nothing, but her smile suggested there was no longer any reason for Nancy to bear the burden she’d been carrying.

  “Still, there’s something troubling you. What is it?” her mother asked. “We can pray about it.”

  Nancy thought of Seth and shook her head. “I was foolish and gave my heart too easily.”