Land of My Heart Read online

  LAND

  of my

  HEART

  Land of My Heart

  Copyright © 2004

  Tracie Peterson

  Cover design by Andrea Gjeldum

  Unless otherwise identified, Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

  Printed in the United States of America

  ISBN 978-0-7642-2769-1

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Peterson, Tracie.

  Land of my heart / by Tracie Peterson.

  p. cm. — (Heirs of Montana)

  ISBN 0-7642-2769-6 (pbk.)

  1. Women pioneers—Fiction. 2. Ranch life—Fiction. 3. Montana—Fiction. I. Title. II. Series: Peterson, Tracie. Heirs of Montana.

  PS3566.E7717L36 2004

  813'.54—dc22

  2003022919

  * * *

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  To John and Kay Peterson

  with thanks for your love

  and for answering my

  questions about steamboats

  To Mike Parker

  with thanks for answering

  all my questions about ranching

  the “old-fashioned way”

  Books by Tracie Peterson

  www.traciepeterson.com

  A Slender Thread • What She Left for Me

  Where My Heart Belongs

  SONG OF ALASKA

  Dawn’s Prelude • Morning’s Refrain

  ALASKAN QUEST

  Summer of the Midnight Sun

  Under the Northern Lights • Whispers of Winter

  Alaskan Quest (3 in 1)

  BRIDES OF GALLATIN COUNTY

  A Promise to Believe In • A Love to Last Forever

  A Dream to Call My Own

  THE BROADMOOR LEGACY*

  A Daughter’s Inheritance • An Unexpected Love

  A Surrendered Heart

  BELLS OF LOWELL*

  Daughter of the Loom • A Fragile Design • These Tangled Threads

  Bells of Lowell (3 in 1)

  LIGHTS OF LOWELL*

  A Tapestry of Hope • A Love Woven True • The Pattern of Her Heart

  DESERT ROSES

  Shadows of the Canyon • Across the Years • Beneath a Harvest Sky

  HEIRS OF MONTANA

  Land of My Heart • The Coming Storm

  To Dream Anew • The Hope Within

  LADIES OF LIBERTY

  A Lady of High Regard • A Lady of Hidden Intent

  A Lady of Secret Devotion

  RIBBONS OF STEEL**

  Distant Dreams • A Hope Beyond

  WESTWARD CHRONICLES

  A Shelter of Hope • Hidden in a Whisper • A Veiled Reflection

  YUKON QUEST

  Treasures of the North • Ashes and Ice • Rivers of Gold

  *with Judith Miller

  **with Judith Pella

  TRACIE PETERSON is the author of over seventy novels, both historical and contemporary. Her avid research resonates in her stories, as seen in her bestselling HEIRS OF MONTANA and ALASKAN QUEST series. Tracie and her family make their home in Montana.

  PROLOGUE

  New Madrid, Missouri

  March 1864

  HUMID AIR WARMED THE DAY CONSIDERABLY. DIANNE CHADWICK pushed back a loose strand of honey-colored hair and sighed, then glanced out the window of the store her father owned, noting heavy black clouds on the horizon. Hope it’s not a twister coming, she thought as she stepped behind the counter of the New Madrid Emporium.

  At sixteen, Dianne had proven to be her father’s capable right hand when it came to running the store. Her efficiency, along with her genuine concern for their customers, surprised both herself and her father, who eventually agreed she could quit her formal schooling.

  Her three older brothers had no interest in the store, which suited Dianne just fine. Her father had tried without luck to mold each of his sons into storekeepers, but they weren’t the type to settle down to such a life. They craved adventure and the wild outdoors. Keeping a store inventory and watching the till did nothing but cause them grief and rebellion.

  “Where are your brothers?We’re going to need cash from the bank,” her father announced as he came in from the back room. “I failed to take care of it yesterday.”

  “I haven’t seen any of them since they left the breakfast table,” Dianne admitted. “But don’t worry about it. I’ll go to the bank for you.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his balding head. “I’d better just go myself.

  You know it isn’t safe to have you out there without an escort. This war has ruined life for decent folk. I remember when things were much easier, more genteel. Why, your poor mother cries herself to sleep almost every night, longing for the good old days before the war.”

  Dianne nodded, knowing the truth of her father’s words. Her mother wept often these days. Her worries over her boys, now almost old enough to go to war, were enough to keep her to her bed.

  Dianne didn’t argue with her father. She knew he’d eventually relent and allow her to go to the bank, for he seldom left the store these days. With his family living just above the Emporium, Ephraim Chadwick felt it his duty to stay close at hand. The increasing hostility he dealt with from his Southern-sympathizing neighbors, who failed to understand why he’d taken up trading with the Union soldiers who occupied New Madrid, made him even more tense.

  Dianne failed to understand the fuss in any case. Business was business and the war was an infringement upon it. And she couldn’t honestly say that she favored one side or the other. Her mother had been raised in a well-to-do Southern family, so naturally her loyalties lay with the South. But Dianne’s father had strong ties with the North, and being a businessman, he tended to do whatever best served his livelihood.

  She watched as her father fussed with several bolts of cloth before finally heading to the back room. He emerged through the curtain pulling on his coat, grumbling all the way.

  “I don’t know what good it is to have sons if they’re never around to help with the business.” He marched to the safe and pulled out the bag he always used for their
money.

  Dianne pretended to sort a box of medicinal remedies while her father stormed about the room. She knew he was only looking out for her best interests, but she felt no reason to fear being on the street. There were more than enough Union soldiers keeping watch over the town. Surely they were trustworthy and honorable enough to keep one young woman from harm.

  “Are you sure you haven’t seen the boys?” her father asked in an exasperated tone that told Dianne he was nearly ready to give in.

  She wiped her hands on her apron. “Let me go check for you.”

  She made her way to the back door and opened it. Peeking out into the alley, she scanned the street for her brothers. Seeing that there wasn’t a single soul stirring, she closed the door and returned to her father. “There’s no sign of them.”

  He sighed. “I hate to leave the store. Especially with the state your mother’s in.”

  Dianne came to his side and gently touched his arm. “I can go to the bank, Papa. I’ll be just fine. It’s early and most of the riffraff are sleeping off last night. There are soldiers patrolling and they’ll look out for me. Most of them are your friends. They aren’t about to let anything happen to me.”

  Ephraim sighed again and looked beyond Dianne to the door. “I suppose it would be all right, just this once.”

  Dianne hurried to the bank and conducted her business quickly. Mr. Danssen seemed rather surprised she’d come alone but said nothing. “Give your mother and father my best,” he called as Dianne stepped to the door.

  “I will,” she replied, tucking the money bag inside her skirt. She walked at a quick pace back to the store, but her mind was on the sorry state of the town around her. Windows were boarded in several businesses, reminding her of friends who had moved away. Mrs. Simpson’s dress shop had been burned to the ground only three weeks earlier. Her father said it was renegade Confederate soldiers, but Dianne figured it to be local folks. Mrs. Simpson was a Yankee of the most outspoken kind. No doubt there were folks who’d had their fill of her opinions.

  As she passed a group of local men, a chorus of vulgar comments and whistles started up.

  “Hey, that’s Ephraim Chadwick’s daughter,” one of them called. “Her pa owns the Emporium.”

  “Yeah, he cozies up to those Yankees,” another added.

  “But her ma’s a real daughter of the South,” a third man threw in. “She ain’t no Yankee lover.”

  “And she’s real purty, just like her daughter.”

  Dianne tried to ignore their comments, keeping her head bowed and walking as quickly as proper etiquette allowed. But not ten feet from the store’s front door, she found her process brought to an abrupt halt.

  “Why don’t you sit a spell and share some company?” a gruff character demanded as he took hold of her arm. “You ain’t no Yankee lover, are ya?”

  Dianne looked up to meet the burly man’s gaze. His expression was one of hatred; he smelled strongly of whiskey, sweat, and manure. Apparently not all of the riffraff were still sleeping off the night.

  “Excuse me,” she said, trying to gently pull away. “My father is expecting me.” Thunder rumbled in the distance as the storm moved ever closer.

  He tightened his hold and grinned, revealing yellow rotting teeth. “And I’m expectin’ some common courtesy. Ain’t gonna hurt you none to show me some respect. That’s the trouble with this war. Since the Yankees come to town, ain’t nobody friendly no more.”

  Dianne stared at him hard. She knew many of the citizens of New Madrid. Her father had run the Emporium there for some time and Dianne had recently begun helping behind the counter full time. This scum was not someone she recognized. He had no doubt headed west to avoid getting killed on the battlefield. His boldness surprised her, however. Yankee soldiers were everywhere—protecting and defending New Madrid as a property of the Union. Rumor had it that skirmishes were being fought all over the state. If spotted, these men would no doubt be rounded up and questioned.

  The man took her silence as acceptance. “There. Ain’t so hard, is it? Just be nice to old Charley and he’ll be nice to you.”

  Dianne drew a deep breath. “Unhand me.”

  Charley seemed surprised by this. He studied her for a moment, then began to laugh. His companions joined in as if Dianne had shared some joke.

  She lifted her skirt slightly and kicked her captor hard in the shin. This caused him to release his grip long enough for her to move away. She reached the store’s front door just as Charley reached out again and yanked at her long hair.

  Dianne screamed out in pain, alerting not only her father but several soldiers who were inside the store.

  “Let her go!” her father demanded as Charley played a sort of tug-of-war with Dianne. Lightning flashed in the sky and a light sprinkle of rain splattered the dusty street.

  “You heard the man,” a soldier Dianne knew as Captain Seager stated as he drew his revolver.

  To Dianne’s surprise, Charley did let go. Her father swiftly pushed her inside the store. Dianne nearly lost her footing but caught herself against the counter as thunder boomed outside. The storm was upon them.

  “What’s going on?” her mother questioned as she emerged from the back room.

  “I … ah … well, there’s some men out there and Pa—” Lightning, more intense and brilliant, illuminated the darkened day as a dozen shots rang out. Dianne had no chance to finish her statement as her mother pushed past her and ran outside. Her pounding heart was heavy with fear.

  “Who’s shootin’ guns?” her ten-year-old sister, Ardith, called out. The youngest in the family, Betsy, was right behind her. “Is the war here?”

  “Both of you stay there!” Dianne commanded. “I’ll see what’s happened.”

  The boardwalk outside the store, so unassuming moments before, looked like a battlefield littered with the bodies of the fallen. The storm, churning and rolling, blotted out much of the sun’s light.

  Stunned, Dianne leaned back against the building for support. Thunder cracked again, shaking the very foundation beneath her feet. The rain began to pour in earnest and the soldiers hurried to clear the boardwalk of bodies. A few feet away her mother knelt beside her father. A trickle of blood spilled from a hole in the middle of his head.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Captain Seager said as he crouched down beside Susannah Chadwick. “Your husband was caught in the cross fire.”

  Rain poured over her, matting her once-delicately styled hair to her face. “No doubt,” Susannah said in a whisper. “But whose cross fire, I wonder?” Lightning streaked across the sky, the thunder exploding on top of it. Her gaze was fierce. “My husband’s a victim of this war just as sure as if he’d been wearing a Southern uniform. Your people care for nothing but themselves.” She then touched her fingers to the wound and began to sob. “Look what you’ve done. Look what you’ve done.”

  Dianne pulled her apron to her mouth and fought back her own tears. Her stomach cramped as she placed her hands over her eyes. If only I hadn’t gone to the bank—if only I would have taken Trenton or one of the other boys.

  She watched the soldiers lift her father’s lifeless body and carry it into the store. They’d no sooner cleared the threshold when hail pummeled the streets. A twister was sure to follow.

  CHAPTER 1

  DIANNE ANXIOUSLY WAITED WITH HER SIBLINGS AROUND THE FAMILY dining table as their mother considered their request. With their father gone nearly a month and store responsibilities mounting, Dianne had pursued the one idea that seemed to make sense.

  “Move to the Idaho Territory?” Susannah questioned.

  Dianne spoke with confidence. “I’ve been in touch with a wagon master who will lead a train west in about ten days. They’ll head out from St. Louis, so we need to act quickly.”

  “But to just up and sell off everything and leave?” her mother asked, looking at each of her children.

  “We can’t leave New Madrid,” Dianne’s oldest brother, Trenton, sp
oke. “I don’t mean to leave here until I’ve avenged Pa’s death.”

  “Don’t talk that way, Trenton. There will be no revenge,” their mother declared, tears coming to her eyes. “I’ve already lost Ephraim; I’m not about to lose you too.”

  “That’s why moving to your brother’s place is so important, Mother. It will get the boys away from the war. You know how Captain Seager is constantly badgering them to join the Union as soon as they’re of age. Before you know it, they won’t have any choice but to choose sides.”

  “I wouldn’t fight for the Union,” Trenton declared. “I think they had more to do with Pa’s death than they’re letting on.”

  “But you can’t be sure,” his mother interjected. “No one is certain whose bullet took your father’s life. I don’t like the Union any more than you do, but I can’t hold them wholly responsible for Ephraim’s death.”

  Dianne’s twin brothers, Morgan and Zane, exchanged a glance before commenting in unison, “We think the move would be good.”

  Betsy and Ardith, the youngest of the Chadwicks, began whispering back and forth as if trying to understand the full implication of the adult conversation.

  Trenton scowled at the boys who were a year his junior. “It isn’t right that a man’s life was taken like that without anyone paying for it. Pa deserves better than that.”

  “They’re calling it an accident of wartime,” Dianne threw out. She knew if Trenton would listen to anyone, it would be her. “Trent, we can’t bring Pa back—even if we put a bullet in every Union soldier in town. Or Southern sympathizers, for that matter. Nothing is going to bring him back.”

  “Maybe not, but at least we’ll have done right by him.”

  “Stop it!” All gazes turned to their mother. Even Betsy and Ardith were silent. “There will be no more talk of revenge.” A cloak of silence clung heavily to the air before she pushed her shoulders back and focused on her sons. “I think Dianne’s idea to move west is a good one.”

  Dianne breathed a sigh of relief. Surely now things would progress forward. “We need to leave in less than a week,” Dianne said, centering on her mother’s careworn face. “We should sell the store. Pa had a couple of men interested in buying it at different times.We can get Mr. Danssen at the bank to check them out and see if they’re still interested.”