Land of My Heart (29 page)

Going to the trunk, Dianne pulled out a thick wool blanket. It was one they had used on the wagon trail and was in worse shape than some of the others, so Dianne had packed it away until they needed it. She took it in to her mother, then froze in place. The bed was empty.

“Mama!” Dianne tossed the blanket aside and looked around the small room, even looking under the bed in case her mother had fallen from the bed and somehow rolled beneath.

There was no sign of her mother. Dianne went quickly to the front room and looked around. She wasn’t here, that much was clear. The mud porch revealed the same disheartening fact. Going slowly into the front room again, Dianne caught sight of the front door.

“Oh no,” she said, looking outside. “She couldn’t have!”

CHAPTER 21

T
RENTON STOOD LOOKING IN THE MIRROR AT THE OUTFIT HE’D
just tried on. The crisp lines of the black wool suit fit him as though it had been tailored just for him. The gray striped vest and new white shirt added a special look of refined dignity to the man who only weeks earlier had been so down on his luck he’d had to steal to eat.

“The suit was clearly designed with you in mind, Mr. Chadwick,” the store clerk announced as he appraised him from behind. “It will require very little in the way of adjustments.”

Trenton couldn’t have agreed more. “I’ll need a couple of extra shirts.”

“But of course. Wait here and I’ll see to it.”

Trenton watched as the man disappeared into the back room. Henry had suggested Trenton buy a new wardrobe in order to get into some of the better games. There was a great deal more money to be had in poker than Trenton could have ever imagined. It amazed him that in a time of war so many people would be so willing to part with their cash. But part with it they did. Most of the time Trenton didn’t have to do anything but play well and pay attention. Henry had been right. Most men could be easily read. They would make certain little moves or actions when their hand was good and another set when they held nothing at all.

At the same time Trenton had needed to learn how to read other men, he’d had to practice hard with Henry to learn how to disguise his own reactions. It hadn’t been easy, to be sure.

“Don’t look away from them,” Henry had said, “but when you stare the other players down, do it with such an attitude that suggests you’d just as soon be home takin’ a bath. Look bored, disinterested—it makes them wonder what you’re about, and while they’re busy worrying about what you’re really thinkin’, they won’t be able to pay much attention to their game.”

Trenton thought it an awful lot of nonsense, but he’d become accomplished in a relatively short time and in doing so had doubled his winnings. The extra money changed his mind rather quickly about Henry DuPont.

“Here we are, sir. I’ve wrapped them for you. You can either take them now or come back after we’ve tailored the suit.”

Trenton shook his head. “No, I’m leaving town and don’t have time for tailoring. This fits well enough as it is.”

The clerk, a portly fellow with a balding head and gold-rimmed glasses, nodded. “If that’s what you desire, it’s perfectly fine.”

Trenton smiled. “That’s what I desire.” He liked saying that and getting his way about things. He felt important for the first time in his life. People paid attention to him, seemed to know that he was a force to be reckoned with. Now the clothes would help even more.

He paid for his purchases, pulled on the broad-brimmed black hat he’d purchased only the day before, and nodded to the man. “Thank you for your help.”

Feeling like a new man, Trenton made his way back to the hotel. Henry awaited him there, also dressed in new clothes.

“Well if we ain’t a pair,” Henry announced as Trenton walked through the door. “I swear you could sit down to play a hand with the president himself.”

Trenton laughed. “I seriously doubt President Lincoln plays cards.”

“If he played with you, he’d lose. Of that I am sure.” Henry sauntered over to the window and glanced out. “I have tickets for the riverboat. Had to pay extra for that nag of yours but finally arranged for it.”

“When do we leave?” Trenton questioned, tossing the parcel of shirts into his carpetbag.

“Midnight,” Henry replied. “Enough time to play a few hands up the street if you want. I know of a game going on at the Seymour Hotel. Stakes are high—it’s by invitation only.”

“And we’ve wrangled an invitation?”

“Yes, sir,” Henry answered, looking quite proud of himself. “I let it get around that you’re the grandson of a New York state senator.”

“Ah, I see. A wealthy, na
ve grandson who’s just taken up an interest in poker, no doubt.”

Henry laughed. “Is there any other kind?”

Trenton looked at the two men who hadn’t yet folded. The one on his right had a nervous tick in his cheek that started up every time he held more than a pair. The man directly across from him was a bit trickier. He generally kept his head down and eyes to the cards. He seemed to try overly hard to keep from revealing himself.

“Well, will you call or fold?” Trenton asked, yawning as if it made no difference to him.

Both men fidgeted a moment before finally giving up the game. Trenton revealed his hand of three nines and pulled in his winnings. It was just too simple. He hadn’t even needed to cheat or use a marked deck.

“You know,” the man at Trenton’s left said to his companions, “there’s news on the plans for the transcontinental railroad. Good money to be made if you get in on some of the small towns going up along the line. I have a large amount of money tied up in a couple of the locations.”

“How did you find out where those locations would be?” the man opposite him questioned. “The line hasn’t even been finalized, as far as I know. Complications keep them changing things here and there.”

“I’m smart,” the first man replied, laughing. He leaned forward as if to share some deep secret. “I’m telling you, the railroad is the future.”

Trenton tried to imagine rails joining the country together. It seemed an impossible task, especially in light of discussions he’d heard about the mountains to the west. How would they ever manage to put a railroad over the Rockies?

The idea of traveling from one end of the country to the other in less than a week instead of months fascinated Trenton. He imagined himself going to Montana Territory to visit Dianne, riding in style on rails instead of stages or horseback.

If I ever get to Montana,
he thought. He honestly hoped to head that way by spring. Henry had his heart set on going to Omaha in spite of the fact it would no doubt be colder up north. The first part of winter had been mild—some rain and cold temperatures, but not much snow and certainly not enough cold to freeze the waterways. Trenton hadn’t argued with the idea of Omaha; after all, it was closer to Montana. But when Henry started talking about heading to Chicago and New York after that, Trenton flat-out refused.

Henry dealt the next round, laughing and telling tales of his days when he’d been a boy working on some canal line back East. Trenton didn’t pay too much attention to him. The others didn’t know they were traveling companions, and Trenton would just as soon keep it that way.

The round went as easily as the others until they were down to just Trenton, Henry, and the man with the tick. Trenton had nothing of any use in his hands, not even a pair, but he’d learned from Henry that bluffing would often get the pot up.

“Well, boys?” Henry questioned. “I raise you twenty dollars.”

“Well, that’s mighty steep, mister.”

Henry shrugged and Trenton watched the man at his right to see what his response would be. The minutes clicked by as the tick grew more noticeable and perspiration beaded on the man’s upper lip.

Trenton figured him to have a flush. He figured it that way because he’d seen the man’s hand at one point when he’d accidentally moved to accommodate the waiter bringing drinks. There were three hearts in the original hand, and since then Trenton was pretty sure the man had drawn his additional hearts. He figured Henry knew this, or had a good idea of it, but the old man wasn’t backing down, so Trenton figured Henry’s hand had to be even better.

“I’ll call,” the man finally said.

“Fold,” Trenton declared. “This game’s too rich for my blood.”

Henry laughed. “Shouldn’t let babies play with cards.” The men at the table laughed, except for the man with the tick.

Henry turned over his hand. “Cowboys and ladies,” he said, revealing three kings and two queens. “Full house.”

The man lost all color in his face as he turned over his hand. Trenton noted the flush was complete, but it wasn’t a straight flush and it wasn’t a royal. Henry had won the hand.

“You’re cheating!” the man declared, standing abruptly. He reached for Henry’s arm and yanked at the French cuff. The cufflink flew across the table, and to Trenton’s disappointment, two cards fell out from the open sleeve. “I told you so!”

The men at the table, all fairly wealthy businessmen, were in no mood for a cheat. “Call for the police. Have this man taken to jail.”

Trenton got to his feet. “I’ll take him there myself. Stupid old man.”

The waiter had already gone to rally the law, however, so the men at the table were in no hurry to turn him over to anyone.

“He can wait,” the man with the tick announced. “I want to make sure the officer hears my side of the story.”

“You’ve got me all wrong, boys. I wasn’t cheatin’. Honest. This is the first hand I’ve won. You know that.”

They looked at each other, almost as if considering his words, then shook their heads collectively.

An officer appeared in no time at all and took down the names and addresses of each man at the table. As he took Henry into custody and headed down the back stairs, Trenton got to his feet. “Well, I must say this game had more excitement for me than anything in a long while, but I need some sleep. I have an important business meeting in the morning.”

The men bid Trenton good night, seeming no more interested in what he was about than they were in what would happen to Henry DuPont. Trenton raced through the lobby of the hotel and out onto the street, meeting up with the officer just as they rounded the front corner of the building.

“I wonder if I might talk with you a moment,” Trenton said as he approached the man. He’d learned enough from Henry to read something in the officer’s expression that made Trenton sure beyond doubt that the man was approachable.

Fifteen minutes later, Trenton was twenty dollars poorer and Henry was free. They raced for their hotel as fast as the old man could move.

“We’d better get down to the boat,” Trenton told Henry. “I doubt we’ll be able to come back to St. Joseph again.”

“I’m sorry about that, boy. I’m gettin’ old. Slippin’.” There was sorrow in his voice.

“It doesn’t matter now, Henry. What matters is that we hightail it out of here and not get caught. I assured that fellow we’d be long gone by sunup, and I intend to see to it.”

Once on the boat, Trenton parted company with Henry. The old man was given to moments of drink and tonight was certainly no exception. No doubt the close encounter with the law had shaken him up and he wanted the alcohol to steady his nerves.

It wasn’t surprising to find the riverboat full to overflowing in spite of the enormous ticket price. Sometimes the boats were allowed to travel without any trouble and sometimes they weren’t. Trenton had even read of one boat facing the threat of being blown up by border ruffians. The tragedy had been averted by Union soldiers, but the threat was there nonetheless.

Over the months that had passed since his father’s death, Trenton had come to look at the war and the world with new eyes. He’d grown up some—perhaps not enough, but his experience had taught him something about himself. Namely, he had no purpose or goal for his life. His friends had talked proudly of joining the Confederacy. They were excited to march off to war—to live or die for what they believed in.

Trenton had no such aspirations. He also had no intention of going back to shopkeeping. Gambling suited him, but the guilt of it made him feel the need for daily penance. Trenton always tried to help some poor unfortunate, giving away coins or food to soothe his own conscience. But even this didn’t help. There was no purpose for his future. He had no plans to go to any particular place at any particular time. He was just drifting along in life—not knowing what tomorrow would bring. Some men might cherish the freedom, but Trenton found it a millstone around his neck.