Mona Hodgson - [Hearts Seeking Home 01] Read online

  Garrett had just reached for the sack of sugar when he saw Anna Goben outside the front window. Had she looked in through the window, the young woman probably would have turned around. He would have, had it been him. Instead, Miss Goben opened the door and stepped inside. A breeze fluttered the paper sign above the coffee sacks.

  Caleb lifted the sack he held to one shoulder. He raised the collar on his coat and looked up. The sack fell to the plank floor, spilling a handful of coffee beans and scenting the chilled air. He glared at Anna. “What are you doing here?”

  Miss Goben’s eyes widened like an antelope staring down a gun barrel. “Pardon me?”

  That seemed the phrase of the day, at least from any women they encountered. Garrett quickly joined Caleb. “Hello, Miss Goben.” He doffed his slouch hat, and Caleb bent to scoop up the runaway coffee beans.

  “Mr. Cowlishaw.” Her jaw tight, she looked around him to the counter where Maren Wainwright took money from a customer. “Have you heard how Mr. Heinrich is faring?”

  “I was told he is resting upstairs. His daughter is with him.”

  She nodded.

  Caleb stood. One hand gripped the sack while the other cupped coffee beans. “The dry goods store doesn’t seem a likely place for you to do your gloating.”

  She squared her shoulders, her chin jutting. “You, sir, are a man of ill-formed suppositions.”

  Garrett knew he should scold Caleb for his rudeness, but instead he put his effort into hiding the smile that tugged at his lips. He wasn’t one to talk, having had a similar conversation with Caroline Milburn just moments earlier.

  “Are you still planning to go west with your mother and grandfather?” Caleb asked her.

  “I am. Do you have a problem with that, Mr.—”

  “Reger. Caleb Reger.” He arched his eyebrows. “I don’t have a problem with it, but my good friend Boney might.”

  “Your good friend?” As if surprised she’d said it aloud, Miss Goben looked at Garrett. “Pardon me.”

  Garrett nodded and brushed the brim of his hat. He and Caleb both watched Miss Goben walk toward the widow Caroline Milburn, and then he looked at Caleb. “You’re not the one staring now, are you?”

  “At her? No sir. She’s trouble.”

  Garrett smiled. His exact sentiments concerning Mrs. Milburn.

  Hmm. Miss Goben would be a distraction for at least two of his hands. Perhaps it was time he pay her grandfather a visit to question his plans to go west.

  3

  Sunshine defied the gathering clouds and warmed Anna’s face, but still she fought the chill running up her spine.

  “The dry goods store doesn’t seem a likely place for you to do your gloating.”

  Caleb Reger may prove to be a good scout for the captain of the wagon train, but he had much to learn about being a civil human being. Did he really believe she’d made her decision not to marry Boney with lightness and merriment?

  Anna’s footfalls were anything but ladylike as she stomped up Main Street. At least she’d been able to visit with Caroline and Maren for a few minutes. Otherwise, she would’ve been better off staying home and tangling with her mother. She knew what to expect from Mutter. Mr. Reger’s insolence had caught her off guard. Now that she knew he was prone to address issues he knew nothing about, it wouldn’t happen again.

  “I don’t have a problem with it, but my good friend Boney might.”

  He worried about his good friend Boney? Mr. Reger had met Boney mere weeks ago. She’d gone to school with him, played dominoes with him and her brother. She’d known Boney for ten years. Her decision not to marry him may have seemed hasty, but it wasn’t in the least thoughtless.

  Anna passed Becks’ Cobbler Shop. The elder Mr. Beck sat out on the stoop, whittling a pair of wooden shoes. Mr. Beck and his wife, Irene, his son, Arven, and his wife, Lorelei, were among those joining the Boone’s Lick Company caravan of wagons. His mallet tapped the chisel lightly, in rhythm with her footfalls. The sound followed her as she drew close to her turn.

  If true love was anywhere near as complicated as the lack of it, Anna wanted no part of romance. She was better off going west as planned—a single woman traveling with her family. Somewhere in California, near Hattie and Caroline, she’d set up her millinery. A single businesswoman. That had been her goal before Boney’s return to Saint Charles, and it was still an appealing plan.

  First, she had to survive traipsing over hill and vale with the sour Mr. Caleb Reger.

  “Look out, lady!”

  The gruff order stopped Anna in her tracks. A yoke of oxen skidded to a stop not two feet from her. The contents of the wagon they pulled shifted with a crunch. Her heart pounding, Anna couldn’t move. The lead oxen offered a wet snort uncomfortably close to her face.

  A sharp whistle drew her gaze to the burly man holding the lead rope on the far side. “Good thing I was mindin’ what you were doing, ma’am.” His thick brows knit together. “Woulda plowed right into ya, if’n I weren’t.”

  “Yes sir. Thank you kindly.” Anna dipped her chin in gratitude and took a few steps backward, motioning for him to move forward.

  After seeing the tailgate on the farm wagon pass her by, Anna carefully crossed the busy street and started up the hill. Her encounter with Mr. Reger had been a troubling distraction, one that she needed to push from her mind so she could think and pray about what to say when she arrived home.

  Life in Saint Charles had been good. Mutter had worked at the millinery and became involved in Mrs. Brantenberg’s quilting circle. Großvater had been teaching Dedrick his trade of caning chairs. They’d been happy here. But the War between the States changed everything. Anna had learned heartbreak could build your faith or tear you down. In the past year and a half since Dedrick’s death, she’d watched her grandfather take to his chair and her mother turn to the bottle.

  When her breaths became shallow, Anna realized she was stomping up the hill. She slowed her pace, but couldn’t hinder her thoughts. If she was old enough to decide to marry a man then choose not to, she was old enough to be heard.

  She only prayed Mutter was clearheaded enough to hear her out and later remember what she said.

  As Anna approached their light blue house, third from the corner, she saw Großvater sitting on the front porch. Not only was he home, but he sat on a stool with a chair frame balanced on his lap. The once-familiar sight of him working nearly stole her breath.

  Now if only he’d quit eating like a sparrow and put some meat back on his bones.

  He coughed then rubbed the balding spot amidst his gray hair. “I wondered if you’d be coming back.”

  “I wondered the same about you.”

  A slow smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “A tough day.”

  Nodding, Anna sank into a finished rocker beside him. “I went to the store to see my friends.”

  “Did it help?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Some.”

  Großvater shook his head. “That was about as convincing as one snow-flake in summer.”

  “Garrett Cowlishaw and Mr. Reger were in the store.”

  He lifted a length of cane from the washbasin and shook off the water. “I don’t suppose that was very comfortable, them working with Boney.”

  “I would’ve expected discomfort.”

  His hands stilled and his thin eyebrows arched in an unspoken question. “Mr. Reger felt it necessary to voice his disdain for women who change their minds.”

  Großvater threaded the cane through a hole and pinned it with a wedge. “What does he know about it?”

  “Precisely.” Anna blew out a long, unladylike breath. Time to change the subject. The insufferable Mr. Reger wasn’t worth another thought. She glanced at the basin then to the chair he was caning. “It does my heart good to see you working.”

  He coughed again. She lifted his coffee cup from the table and handed it to him. His hands had gotten so thin and his face was drawn. As much as she wanted to giv
e him a new life—all of them a new life—the trip might be too taxing for Großvater.

  “It’s about time I quit skulking and pulled my own weight around here again. You’re young, Anna. I hoped you would marry Boney just so you could have a life besides caring for me and your mutter. You’ve done nothing but cook and work and clean since we lost your brother.”

  Anna looked away from his all-too-familiar grief. Mutter and Großvater had needed her. They still did. How could she have considered marrying, and moving on?

  “With my apprentice gone, I didn’t care much about caning chairs.” He laid another length of cane in the washbasin. “Didn’t care about much of anything.”

  Anna brushed a strand of wayward hair from her face. “I miss Dedrick too. Especially today.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Was your brother the reason you agreed to marry Boney?”

  She nodded. “Being around Boney and talking about Dedrick made me feel less lonely.”

  Großvater nodded. Grief had robbed him of his appetite and hollowed his cheeks. But here he was, working again.

  “Großvater?”

  “I can’t remember when my name’s carried that much weight.”

  “Mutter thinks I was foolish not to marry him.”

  “Your mutter, she just wants you to have a good life. Boney is a fine man. Like me, she probably saw marrying him as your chance to escape our grief and find a better way for yourself.”

  Anna shifted in the chair. “She could’ve been nicer about it.”

  Großvater nodded, and dipped more cane in the basin. “I trust your judgment, Anna girl. You’ve always been real smart.”

  “I don’t feel very smart today.”

  “Well, then, I say it’s a good thing you’re trusting more than your feelings.” Smiling, he wove the cane across the seat.

  The Großvater she knew was climbing out of his grief and coming back to her before they’d even pulled away from Saint Charles.

  He stilled his hands again and looked her in the eye. “Boney will be in the caravan. You still want to go west?”

  Anna glanced at the closed door beside her. “As far as Boney is concerned, I feel fine.” Mutter and Mr. Reger were another matter. And so was Großvater’s cough. “What about you? When did you start coughing?”

  “Oh, that.” He waved his hand. “Just a bother from that can of wildflowers Miss Hattie brought for the wedding. Set a tickle in my throat from the moment she walked in.”

  She hesitated but decided to accept his explanation. “What about Mutter? Do you think she’s strong enough to make the trip?”

  “It’s given me new hope for the future. I’m praying the trip will do the same for my Wilma.”

  Anna nodded. That was her hope too, even though doubts daily hounded her heels.

  Großvater continued weaving the cane. “Do you think Mr. Cowlishaw knows?”

  “I don’t know. But Boney does.”

  He nodded.

  “Boney understands and wouldn’t speak of our business.”

  The crease in Großvater’s brow told Anna he was concerned. Was there a chance the captain could deny them passage in the caravan because of Mutter?

  Anna’s spine stiffened. She couldn’t let that happen. Somehow, she’d make sure there weren’t any bottles in the wagon when they headed out of town next week.

  Caroline Milburn scooped a spoonful of boiled potatoes onto four-year-old Mary’s plate. Her youngest niece looked up, tears pooling her green eyes. Come Tuesday, leaving Mary in Saint Charles would be nearly impossible. Leaving any of her family would be impossible, excluding Jack. She was all too anxious to rid herself of his company. Her brother-in-law sat in his wicker wheelchair at the head of the table pushing cooked carrots to the lonely side of his plate, his nose rutted in a permanent frown.

  “Aunt Caroline, we don’t want you to go.” Her oldest niece sat across the table, sprigs of auburn hair escaping tired braids. The pleading in seven-year-old Cora’s eyes deepened the ache in Caroline’s heart. The fact that they’d had this same conversation every day for weeks hadn’t lessened the pain it caused.

  Caroline didn’t dare look at Jewell, for her sister would surely cry again, and she couldn’t bear it. Not tonight.

  “I need to go,” Caroline said.

  Mary’s little lips pursed in a pout. “Those children don’t love you like we do, Auntie Carol-i.”

  Caroline’s breath caught. She couldn’t argue with that. She’d only been around the five Kamden children twice and hadn’t heard them utter anything but polite greetings to her. How did she expect to live with a new family day and night for four or five months? People she didn’t know. Didn’t love.

  Caroline ran her fingertip along the rim of her plate. “Now that Uncle Phillip is dead …” There, she’d said it—Phillip was dead. Not coming back to her. She cleared her throat and finished her statement. “Now that he is dead, I need to make a new life for myself.”

  “I wish I was goin’ with you.” The freckles that mapped the bridge of nine-year-old Gilbert’s nose belied an innocence his life didn’t satisfy. Life with a father who had come home from the war not only missing a leg but his heart as well.

  Caroline rested her hand on Gilbert’s arm. “I wish you were going too. I’ll miss you all.” She didn’t look at Jack.

  Her brother-in-law rolled his chair under the edge of the table. “We’re not going, and you are. Now that we have that settled, we can eat in peace and quiet.” After giving Caroline a pointed look, his eyes steely, Jack held his plate out to Cora. “Give me more potatoes. At least they’re fit to eat.”

  Caroline bit her bottom lip. It was impossible to do anything in peace with Jack in the house. That was why she needed to leave. She couldn’t save her sister from Jack’s venom, but she could spare herself. Phillip was gone. He’d want her to move beyond what she’d lost to pursue a fresh beginning without him. And without the ever-present dark cloud that was her brother-in-law.

  Working in Heinrich’s Dry Goods and Grocery wasn’t a bad job, but when her workday was done, she went home to her sister’s house. To her sister’s family. To her sister’s life. Her chance at a family of her own had died in the war, but was it too much to ask for a life of her own?

  Caleb hoisted the last sack into the chuck wagon. He added the coffee and sugar to their respective barrels and stashed jerky in the wagon box under the seat. When they pulled out next week, he’d miss Saint Charles. Its brick buildings and clean boardwalks. The redbud and oak trees. The river meandering on the edge of town. He had done a lot of wandering during the war and since, and it felt good to be in one place these past couple of months. But soon he’d be wandering again. This time with a caravan of people he’d met here. Including the vacillating Miss Anna Goben.

  In this rare opportunity to be alone, he sank onto the board floor and leaned against a barrel. The moment he and Garrett had left the dry goods store that afternoon, his boss had questioned Caleb’s behavior toward the young woman, and he’d thought of little else since. He didn’t know Boney Hughes outside of working with him and living in camp these past few weeks. Nor had the jilted groom asked him to fight his battles.

  Caleb sighed. Perhaps he had been unfair in his judgment of Miss Goben, certainly in expressing it. Boney’s love life was none of his concern, and neither was hers.

  When the savory aroma of stewed ham and beans wafted through the front flap of the chuck wagon, Caleb’s stomach growled and he stood. It was his night to cook, but Boney had spared them all by volunteering to fix supper.

  Caleb slapped his hat on his head, then stepped over the wagon seat and swung down onto the steel tire. Using the spokes of the wheel as a ladder, he jumped off midwheel and landed with both feet on the ground. He fell into line behind Tiny and the others.

  Standing at the suspended dutch oven, Boney dished generous portions of beans and biscuits onto tin plates. At the first couple of meals at the camp, the fifth trail hand in their company,
Isaac, took the end of the line and sat off on his own. Since then, Garrett made sure the freedman from Savannah was up front and fed. Tonight, Garrett stood directly behind Isaac, followed by Frank and Tiny.

  Frank took his plate and looked at Tiny. “There’s no way you’re feedin’ him beans.” His Kentucky drawl drew everyone’s attention. He glanced at the billowing storm clouds overhead, then at their tent cabin. “Not if there’s any chance I’ll be cooped up with him.”

  Caleb laughed along with the others, including Tiny.

  Tiny shook his finger at Frank. “I ain’t the only one.”

  Boney pulled two fresh biscuits from the pan and handed Tiny his plate. “Just you remember, ’twas not me tryin’ to stand between you and food. I say if we all have beans, it don’t make no difference who the culprit is.”

  Caleb carried his food to a downed log at the campfire and settled beside Isaac.

  The sounds from other camps along the creek provided background noise for the clank of forks against tin. Overhead, a cap of clouds had dropped the temperatures near freezing. Caleb raised the collar on his coat then scooped up a big chunk of ham with his beans. He hadn’t eaten this good since he’d left home. Now, his boyhood life in Nashville seemed a faded dream.

  “Mister Boney.” Isaac shook his head. “I’s sorry to hear your bride got cold feet.” He dragged his biscuit through the dregs of his beans.

  Tiny nodded and looked at the rejected groom. “Woulda been a different ending, if the little lady had ever tasted your cookin’.” He grinned. “And I was lookin’ forward to the shivaree.”

  Heartache wasn’t a light matter. Caleb set his fork on the plate. “If you ask me, that would’ve for sure been a marriage of inconvenience.”

  “I didn’t ask.” Boney’s jaw hardened. “And where’d you find so many words for things you know nothing about?”

  Caleb swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

  “Well, you can save your pity for someone who needs it. I don’t.” Boney tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot, knocking off a glob of beans. “Miss Anna Goben is one of the finest women I know.” He pointed the spoon at Caleb. “And if I ever hear you vilify her again, I’ll tear into you before you’ve had a chance to swallow your fear. That clear?”