Walk by Faith (3 page)

April 20, 1863

B
reathing deeply to calm her nerves, Clarissa glanced around the land agent's office, studying the marble floors, the mahogany furniture and glass bookcases, the high windows with fancy drapery. As she appreciated the beauty of St. Louis's grand courthouse and its magnificently painted central rotunda in the main hall, she had to wonder how long it would be before she saw such civilized grandeur again after leaving this city where she'd grown up.

It was almost impossible to calm the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of what she was doing. If not for Carolyn and Michael Harvey she would never have had this chance to finally leave St. Louis and start a new life.

After her embarrassing divorce, a kind and understanding Carolyn continued watching Sophie so that Clarissa could go back to her nursing job at City Hospital to support herself and Sophie. Chad had indeed sold the store and all the inventory without her knowledge. Thank goodness the house they'd shared had been her father's and willed to her. When she married Chad the house was never put into his name.

Apparently Chad had only cared about the store because it was paid for free and clear but the house wasn't. Clarissa was left with that debt, but she'd worked hard to keep up the payments on the two-bedroom frame home she'd now miss dearly. She'd sold the house and most of the furniture in order to have the necessary money to leave St. Louis.

Michael Harvey planned to settle in Montana under the new Homestead Act. The cotton wholesaler for whom Michael worked had gone out of business because of the war, and being deeply religious, Michael refused to join the fighting for either side. St. Louis was in chaos, and danger lurked everywhere. For the sake of their little girl, Michael intended to head west with his family, and Clarissa and Sophie would go with them. Clarissa's latest embarrassing ordeal made her more determined, because she'd been fired from her nursing job just for being divorced! Ordered to take care of only the female patients, she was let go when she dared to help a poor, wounded soldier that no one else seemed to have time for. The firing was partly because that soldier was a Confederate, and Confederate soldiers always got helped last; but it seemed obvious to her that helping the man was also the hospital's excuse to get rid of a woman about whom other nurses, and even some patients' wives, had complained should not be around any of the “lonely, vulnerable male patients.”

Her embarrassment had turned to anger at such foolishness. One thing the hospital needed now more than ever was doctors and nurses, with so many hundreds of wounded soldiers coming in almost daily. It seemed incredible that her divorced status should cause so much havoc in her life.

Even Carolyn and Michael had suffered. Michael, a deacon at the Light of Christ Church, where Clarissa had attended so faithfully until Chad left her, had grown disgusted over the insinuations from other men in the church, even the deacons and the minister, that he should not be known to associate so closely with a divorced woman, or he could be asked to leave the church. Michael refused to let such ugliness destroy his and Carolyn's happiness. And because he wanted a place where Clarissa could also feel free to worship, he left the church and started his own ministry at his house. Now he hoped to take that ministry to Montana and start his own church there for the hundreds, perhaps thousands of people who would settle there under the Homestead Act. Thousands more had gone before because of a fabulous silver strike at what some said was now the thriving town of Virginia City, Montana.

It was time to move on and start over. Surely a place like Montana needed nurses, and the more she thought about leaving behind all the bad memories here in St. Louis, the more excited Clarissa became over her decision.

“Mommy, I want to go home,” Sophie complained, turning from a big window where she'd been watching the street traffic outside.

“We'll leave soon, honey,” Clarissa answered. She picked the girl up and set her on her lap, pushing some of the child's red curls behind one ear. “You've been very good.”

Thank goodness she'd received enough money for the house after paying off the bank to be able to pay for her own supplies and even her own wagon. Michael would buy all the oxen, and Clarissa could hardly bear the wait. The sooner she got out of St. Louis, the better.

“Here you are!” The land agent, Eric Fastow, interrupted her thoughts when he finally returned to his desk. “Your official Homestead Certificate. I made sure your section would be located adjacent to Mr. and Mrs. Harvey so you could all be together. Everything is signed. Mr. and Mrs. Harvey each signed up for one-hundred-sixty acres, so between all three of you, you'll have four-hundred-eighty acres to build a fine ranch! And it's all located just five miles south of Virginia City! You'll be close enough to go there for supplies whenever necessary, as long as mountain snows don't hold you up.”

Clarissa took the paper, studying it a moment. There was her name as owner: Clarissa Lynn Seaforth Graham. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed, showing it to Sophie. “See, Sophie? We'll have land that's all our own! We're going on a long trip to live there.”

“Can Lena go?”

“Oh, yes. Lena and Carolyn and Michael are all going!”

Sophie clapped her hands and smiled. This child was another reason to leave St. Louis. Away from here Sophie never had to suffer from gossip and teasing. Clarissa folded the deed and placed it into an envelope Fastow handed her. “Thank you so much, Mr. Fastow.”

“My pleasure!” The thin, bespectacled man put out his hand, and Clarissa set Sophie on her feet and got up from her chair, shaking the man's hand. “I wish you good luck, Mrs. Graham. I'd be worried about you if you were doing this alone, but as long as you are traveling with the Harveys, you should make it just fine.”

Clarissa squeezed his hand and then let go, appreciating the few people who treated her like a respectable person in spite of her being divorced. She put the deed into her handbag. “Thank you again, Mr. Fastow,” she said before taking Sophie's hand and leading her back out into the lobby.

Immediately Sophie again pointed to the spectacular rotunda and stared upward. “Look, Mommy, it's high!” The child spoke loudly, obviously enjoying the way her voice echoed in the large hall. “Can we go up there?”

“No, we certainly cannot. I'm not climbing all those steps just so you can get up there and fall and hurt yourself. Besides, I have to get you home. We have to meet Carolyn and Michael there to get some shopping done. We have so many preparations to make for our long trip. It takes a lot of planning.”

They walked across the marble floor toward the courthouse entrance, literally having to stop and dodge people who swarmed inside the busy lobby. The Homestead Act had created quite a commotion this year and last. People were excited about free land, theirs to keep as long as they farmed or ranched it and made it worth something. The government was aiming to settle and build the West, Indians or not, and there were plenty of people ready to help, especially since the war was escalating.

Already many had lost their farms and large plantations. Men were dying by the thousands, and homeless people filled St. Louis, many of whom were the ones most willing to head west to start over.

Clarissa kept hold of Sophie's hand so she wouldn't lose her among the throngs. She thought about the note from Chad that accompanied the divorce papers, saying he hoped she would sign them quickly and not prolong the matter. Such a cold, unfeeling letter. He'd not even asked about Sophie, but he made sure to tell her that the store had already been sold and the new owner would be showing up soon to get the keys from her.

She was almost glad Chad had been so coldhearted. That made it easier for her to stop caring about him. She knelt down to help Sophie put on her little woolen coat. Early April had brought a damp cold that seemed to go to the bone, and Clarissa was anxious for the warmer weather that should come very soon now. She buttoned up Sophie's coat and tied a wool scarf around her head, then stood up and retied her own wool cape, pulling up the hood.

She took Sophie's hand, and they slowly walked down the courthouse steps, Sophie insisting on jumping down one step at a time. The girl's sweet nature made it easy for Clarissa to be patient with her. Always all smiles, Sophie found excitement in the smallest of things. She seldom asked about her missing father anymore, which made Clarissa both sad and relieved.

Once they reached the bottom of the steps, Sophie suddenly tore away from Clarissa, squealing something about a kitten.

“Sophie!” Before Clarissa could react in any way, she watched a man wearing a dark blue duster and black, wide-brimmed hat scoop up Sophie with one arm just in time to keep her from being hit by a team of horses pulling a wagon. However, he didn't get out of the way in time to keep a wagon wheel from catching one leg and knocking him down. He cried out as he rolled out of the way, still clinging to Sophie and keeping her wrapped safely in his arms.

The wagon driver shouted “Whoa!” and looked back with terrified eyes as the stranger holding Sophie got to his knees. “You all right, mister? Is the little girl okay?”

“She's fine.” The stranger waved the man off. “Go on. I'll be all right.”

The wagon driver shook his head and drove off.

“Sophie!” Clarissa ran to the site, kneeling down to take Sophie from the stranger's arms. “Look what you've done because you let go of Mommy's hand! This poor man is hurt now!”

Sophie began crying, and the man who'd saved her got to a sitting position. “Don't do that!” he told Clarissa rather gruffly. “Don't blame the child. An accident is an accident.”

“I'm so sorry!” Clarissa told him. “And it
is
Sophie's fault!”

A man passing by stopped to help the stranger up, and the man limped to a street lamp where he grabbed hold for support.

“You
are
hurt!” Clarissa said, setting Sophie on her feet and ordering the still-crying girl to stay put.

“It's just a war wound that's not quite healed,” he said.

“Let me get a cab and take you to the hospital.”

“Never mind. My horse isn't far. Besides, I just got
out
of the hospital a few days ago.”

Clarissa could see the pain in his eyes. “Please.”

He shook his head. “No. No more hospitals.”

“Then tell me where your horse is. I'll go get it for you and call a cab to take you to the house where I stay. Sophie can ride with you and I'll follow on your horse. It isn't far. I'm a nurse. My name is Clarissa Graham. I can take a look at your leg and rebandage it, or whatever else it needs.”

Clarissa could tell by the way the man closed his eyes and sighed that he was embarrassed at his condition. He stood a good six feet tall and had a rugged look that told her he preferred to fend for himself. Under his Union blue greatcoat she saw scarlet trim on a short jacket, which she knew meant he was part of an artillery unit and probably an officer, although because he wore a plain black hat rather than the common small kepi with an insignia on it, she couldn't be sure what his station might be.

“Please let me help you,” she urged again. “It's the least I can do after what's happened.”

He met her gaze, and a quick surge of something unexplainable swept through Clarissa, something she hadn't felt since the first time she looked into Chad Graham's unnerving green eyes. This man's were a striking blue, almost too dark, as though some kind of cloud hung somewhere behind them. She'd not realized until just now how handsome he was, in spite of several days growth of beard.

“I'll let you help me if you promise to tell that little girl what happened was not her fault,” he told her. “I can't tolerate a child being blamed for an accident.”

Clarissa thought what a strange request that was. “All right.” She knelt down to Sophie and wiped tears from her pudgy cheeks. “It's all right, darling. You just scared Mommy, that's all. Sometimes when we're scared we yell and say the wrong things.” She kissed her cheek. “Just tell this man you're sorry you ran into the street without looking.”

Sniffing, Sophie craned her neck to look up at the tall stranger. “I'm sowwy, Mistoo,” she told him, still having trouble with her r's.

He managed a smile. “It's okay, honey. What's your name?”

“Sophie. What's yours?”

The man looked from her to Clarissa. “Dawson Clements—
Lieutenant
Dawson Clements—of the Second Illinois Light Artillery Battery, now retired from the army. I, uh, I really don't want to put you out—”

“Nonsense. It's the least I can do.”

“Well, ma'am, I'm afraid I'll take you up on the offer. The leg is hurting pretty good.”

“Wait right here then.” Clarissa looked at Sophie. “And
you
stay right here by Mr. Clements.” She stepped off the curb and waved down a one-horse cab coming toward them from farther up the street, hoping Carolyn and Michael wouldn't mind her bringing home a stranger.