Faith of the Heart Read Online Free Page A

to be locked and decided it must be the passageway to the store.
    I’ll go into the mercantile later. First I want to find the bedroom and put my belongings away , she thought.
                  The small bedroom was much plainer than the other rooms. It held an iron bedstead with an old worn spread, and a tall, badly scratched bureau. Aunt Ginny’s few dresses hung on wooden pegs mounted on the wall. Claire lifted a gray calico from its peg and sank onto the bed. She gathered up the worn dress and held it to her breast. She breathed deeply and caught Ginny’s scent of lemon balm and a hint of dried perspiration.
                  Oh, Aunt Ginny , I miss you already.
    For a moment or two she was caught in the memory of Ginny taking her to a tea parlor when Claire was a young girl in Pennsylvania. She’d felt so grown up and important to be having tea and cookies with her mother and aunt. That was a long time ago in another place, and now her parents and aunt and uncle were all gone. Claire had been an only child and now she was alone again.
    Even her fiancè had left her. She knew it wasn’t really his fault; that awful war had left millions of broken-hearted mothers, wives, and sweethearts. But still, she couldn’t help feeling lone ly . Here she was in a new town on the frontier of America and she barely knew a soul. She was truly alone. She had no family and no friends.
                  Once again Claire lifted her head, straightened her shoulders and decided to make the best of her new situation. Ginny had said she needed her, and that hadn’t changed. What she didn’t know was how much Claire had needed Ginny and a chance at a new life. Well. She’d been given that chance and she was going to make the best of it. She’d make Ginny and Richard proud, she’d keep that store going, and maybe she’d even find a home and a little happiness in the bargain.
                  Claire returned to the kitchen and lugged her belongings back to the bedroom. She removed her Colt pistol from her skirt pocket and hid it under the cornhusk mattress before carefully plac ing her two hatboxes upon the bureau. Opening her trunk , she stared down at the precious possessions that were not only her memories of family members now gone, but also of the home she had left for this chance on the prairie . On top was her needlework, several packets of pins, needles, and couple of pairs of scissors. She’d learned long ago that the comfort of crewel work or knitting and embroidery could soothe her soul, pass a long evening and provide decorative items for a home. Finally, she’d have a home where she could display her creations. Claire h ad a flair for designing patterns and employing vivid colors that turned table runners, pillows , and the like into works of art. Fortunately, she’d packed a few of her pieces into her bag to make the rooms feel more homey.
                  Putting those aside, she then removed a nightshirt, several undergarments and her two other dresses, an ivy green calico and a black damask. Unwilling to remove Gin’s clothing from the wall quite yet, she spread her dresses on the bed.
    I’ll clean out Gin‘s things later , she vowed. Next from the bag came her good shoes and warm cape.
    I’ve heard Nebraska winters are harsh . I’ll really need this come winter.
    Finally, from the bottom of the trunk she gently pulled out her mother’s beautiful old quilt. Carefully unfolding it she retrieved the two silver candlesticks that had been handed down to her and two small but heavy leather pouches. One held the ammunition for her pistol and the other held her life savings. Claire ha d tutored the Buckley boys for three years and managed to squirrel away a tidy sum. No one knew she’d saved the money and no one was going to find out. Looking around for a safe place to hide the money, she spied a small drawer in the bureau.
    Well, that’ll have to do for now.