Land of My Heart (35 page)

Quickly setting the table, Dianne’s mind went back to Cole’s statement that his father had killed his bride. A shiver went up her spine at the very thought of something so heinous. How had it happened? What could have possessed the man? She wanted desperately to ask Cole more about it but knew it wouldn’t be fitting to do so in front of her brothers.

“So I take it the freight business is good,” Cole said, following her brothers’ lead to take a seat at the table.

“Business is very good. You’ve no idea. The need for supplies in this part of the country is something you can’t even keep up with. Now, if we only had train service, we might be able to make a dent in it,” Zane said.

“You have to remember thousands upon thousands have come here for the gold and whatever else they can find. Unfortunately, they figure to live off the land, never counting on the long winters,” Morgan threw in.

“That’s for sure,” Zane agreed. “The freight company could run it so that a wagonload of goods was coming in every day and it still wouldn’t meet the needs of those poor fools who came to find their fortune.”

Dianne listened as the conversation continued on about the thousands who’d left the new capital of Virginia City to try their luck at other strike sites. She thought of Faith and Malachi and wondered if they would ever be able to find enough gold to survive.

She busied herself by bringing the coffee and cups to the table, then scooted the biscuits off onto a plate and brought them as well. Finally she went to retrieve the kettle of chicken and dumplings and was surprised to find Cole there to help her.

Their eyes met and for a moment Dianne saw raw pain in his eyes. He looked at her as if wanting to say so much, then the moment passed. The hard facade she normally saw was back in place and intimacy was lost.

They came to the table and said grace, then Dianne offered to fill each bowl before the conversation continued.

“Who would have ever thought you’d turn out to be such a great cook,” Zane teased.

“Yeah, I remember burnt flapjacks and syrup you cooked so long it hardened,” Morgan said, laughing.

“And don’t forget that cake she made on the trail. All hard and overdone on the outside and still runny in the middle,” Zane added.

Dianne laughed. She knew they were more than a little pleased with the way things had turned out. She could scarcely keep food on the table when they were home. They ate everything in sight and never complained. Cole dug into the dumplings and nodded as he chewed. He offered her a hint of a smile, but whether from amusement with her brothers or pleasure at the food, Dianne wasn’t certain.

“You wondered why Cole was here,” Dianne began. “He’s here because I sent him on a mission for us—me, really.”

Zane looked at her a moment before refocusing on the food. “What kind of mission?”

“I asked him to take a letter to Uncle Bram.”

Zane put his spoon down. “I thought we agreed that wasn’t necessary. Uncle Bram would have been here in another month or two anyway.” Zane looked to Cole. “She’s always got to have her own way.”

“That isn’t true,” Dianne declared. “I just felt it was important to know Uncle Bram’s answer ahead of time. That way we can be ready to leave when he comes.”

“I’ve got no plans to leave,” Morgan announced. “I’m content to stay here.”

Dianne squared her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. “Well, I’m not. Another few months here and I’ll wind up married to one of those no-accounts just for company.” The men all laughed at this, but she was more than serious. “Cole, why don’t you tell us what transpired at the ranch.”

Cole took another couple of bites before he put down his spoon. “Well, at first Mr. Vandyke wasn’t at all for the idea. His cabin only has two rooms and he was pretty concerned that you city folk would never be able to endure the hardships of the ranch.”

“That’s hardly fair to say,” Morgan interjected. “He doesn’t even know what we’re capable of doing.”

Cole shrugged. “I’m just telling you how it was. It wasn’t for a lack of wanting you there as family, and he admitted that he could use the extra hands helping with the ranch. But he was worried that you’d fall into harm or die from exhaustion. He worried that Dianne would miss the stores and people, and he just didn’t want to agree to your coming only to find out that none of you could bear up.”

“I’d like to show him a thing or two about bearing up,” Zane said angrily.

“Well, you can have your chance,” Cole replied. He spooned sugar into his coffee, then took a long drink.

Morgan was definitely interested. “What do you mean?”

“Well, your uncle has agreed for you to come, but he needs help adding on to the cabin. He plans to get the trees felled before you arrive and then he’ll need all of us to work on the addition. I told him I wasn’t at all sure you fellas would be interested or even know how to go about that kind of work, but—”

“We’ll show him,” Zane said, banging his fist on the table. “We’re cut from the same kind of cloth he is.We’re as strong and capable as they come.” Zane turned to Morgan. “They’ll always hire us back at the freight line.”

Cole looked to Dianne and winked. It was only then that she realized Cole had been playing a game with her brothers. He’d known all along that success hinged on convincing her brothers to go to Uncle Bram’s. He’d known from what she’d told him earlier that they would never willingly leave their good job and liberty—not without a good reason. And now they had one. Cole had hit them in their one vulnerable place—their pride. She wanted to giggle, but instead she turned her attention to the food. Cole Selby had once again rescued her from certain failure. Dianne hoped she might figure out a way to reward him for his ingenuity.

Omaha

Trenton looked at Henry DuPont and knew in his heart that the man’s days were numbered. Henry knew it, too, which was why they now stood at the steamer dock.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do, Henry?”

“It’s for the best. You’re able to see to yourself now, and my daughter will no doubt be surprised to see me, but I think she’ll be happy.”

Trenton had been more than a little surprised when Henry, after a week-long bout of heavy drinking, had sobered up and declared that he was going back to Indiana to spend out his final days. The parting was bittersweet. On one hand, Trenton would be glad to be rid of Henry’s drinking. On the other, he was sorry to lose his traveling companion. When Henry was sober, he was a marvelous friend and source of information, and Trenton knew his days would be sorrier for the loss.

“If she wants nothing to do with you, I’ll be here in Omaha for a spell. I plan to write my sister and stay put until I hear from her. That could be months,” Trenton told Henry.

“Well, with all that the railroad plans for this town, you shouldn’t lack for a game. Just remember what I taught you and you’ll be fine.”

The final boarding call was given for the boat and with it, Henry picked up his bags. “Take care of yourself, Trenton.”

Trenton nodded. “You too.” He realized with great sadness that he’d never see the old man again. Henry may have taught him a bad habit or two, but he’d also taught Trenton to have a bit of self-respect— something that had previously been sorely lacking.

Trenton waited until he was sure Henry was safely aboard before heading back into town. The air was heavy and damp. Trenton wondered if they were due a storm. He hoped the rains would hold off. He had a night of gaming planned. Trenton knew his funds were getting short, especially after helping Henry with the purchase of his ticket home.

It didn’t matter. Trenton knew there was money to be had. There was always someone willing to gamble away their paycheck or savings.

Trenton tried not to feel guilty about it. If he wasn’t winning, someone else would be. Weak-willed folks were always bent on doing foolishness. That certainly wasn’t Trenton’s fault.

Up ahead on the street a commotion was being raised. Trenton edged closer, curious about what was happening.

“It’s over! The war is over!” came the declaration.

“We’ve whupped those slave-loving Johnny Rebs. Maybe ol’ Abe will throw them all in prison!” Men cheered and women wept. It was a moment frozen in time; the end of an era, no doubt, for life would surely never be the same again. Brother had fought against brother. The country had been ripped in two, and it would take a mighty big seam to join them back together.

Trenton thought of the news and again his heart was torn. While he was glad to know the war was over, he knew the loss of life had broken his mother’s heart. She had never understood why the South couldn’t be left alone to live life as they saw fit. It wasn’t, as she had said on more than one occasion, like anyone was asking the Northerners to take on slaves for themselves.

Dancing in the street broke out as the spirit of revelry mounted. For the most part, the citizens were clearly Union supporters. Trenton doubted seriously if a Confederate would have dared to admit his standing on this night of all nights.

The liquor would flow in celebration and so too the money. Trenton knew the announcement would give people a sense of elation that would translate into whimsical acts of generosity. And he planned to be in on the take. Making his way to his favorite saloon, Trenton came through the doors into the already crowded, smoky room. The piano player pounded out a lively rendition of “Camptown Races” while the clink of glasses and rowdy shouts acted as percussion for his concert.

“We’ve got room for one more,” Bob Aldersson, owner of the hotel where Trenton held a room, called from a table toward the back.

“Celebrating the end of the war?” Trenton asked with a grin. He took off his hat and tossed it with precision to the hatstand near the back stairs.

“You bet we are,” Bob replied and the others nodded enthusiastically. “Come play a few rounds with us. I feel like Lady Luck is with me tonight.”

Trenton grinned. “Well, so do I. So deal the cards and let’s see which one of us the lady smiles on.”

The night passed quickly for Trenton, and true to his assessment, the money did pass around the various gaming tables in a fury of wins and losses. He’d done better for himself than expected. The money would tide him over for some time.

Walking along the darkened streets in the wee hours of the morning, Trenton tried once again to ignore his conscience. He thought about trying a job with the railroad, but when he considered the danger of Indian attacks on the surveyors and the long hours of backbreaking labor in the heat of the Nebraska sun, playing cards seemed preferable.

A woman’s scream filled the night air, and for a moment Trenton wasn’t sure if it was merely a pleasurable game being played by one of the soiled doves or if someone was genuinely in trouble. The scream came again, only more muffled.

Turning down the alleyway, Trenton caught sight of a group of people. It was dark and difficult to see, but when the woman screamed yet again, Trenton felt he had to intervene.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, putting a hand to his gun.

“Get outta here. Ain’t none of your concern,” one of the men called over his shoulder.

“Help me!” the woman cried as she struggled against the hold of her captors.

“Let her go,” Trenton demanded. “Let her go now!”

The men turned from the woman. There were four of them he could see now. They approached quickly, causing Trenton to back up several paces. He wasn’t of a mind to shoot them, but he knew he’d have to defend himself.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson about stickin’ your nose in where it don’t belong,” the man nearest him announced.

By this time one of the other men had managed to slip around behind Trenton. He grabbed Trenton from behind and held his arms fast while the first man delivered a dizzying blow to Trenton’s face.

Trenton kicked, but some of his blows didn’t connect fully with his assailants and those that did seemed to have no impact. The men must have had a high tolerance for pain. Within moments, Trenton was nearly unconscious. As the man behind him let go, Trenton crumpled to the ground, moaning and spitting blood.

“Where’d she go?” one of the men questioned.

Trenton knew if the woman were still in the area, she’d be doomed to suffer whatever fate the men had in mind. He’d never be able to help her now.

Fighting to remain conscious, Trenton heard another voice announce that the woman had fled. He breathed a painful sigh of relief.

“Well, that’s just great.” The man came to Trenton and kicked him hard in the ribs. “You’re just a know-nothin’ do-gooder. You ever get in my way again, I’ll kill ya as sure as look at ya.”

The men walked away, each one stopping long enough to give Trenton a hard kick. Trenton curled into a ball for protection, but it did little good. Pain shot through him like wildfire and there seemed no relief in sight.

With the men gone, Trenton tried hard to sit up. He was grateful that at least they hadn’t been of a mind to rob him. His money was still safely hidden in his boot. Unable to keep from moaning as he attempted to crawl to the wall of the nearest building, Trenton felt as if death would be a welcome friend.