Journey of the Heart by Marjorie Farrell

never heard her mother say anything stronger than ‘damn’ and that rarely.
    “We have to go to the sheriff, Michael.”
    “Ye know he will only laugh in our faces, Elizabeth. Mackie had him appointed. And we have no proof.”
    “We don’t need proof, Michael. We both know it was that Chavez. A true wolf in a sheepfold,” she added bitterly.
    “Let’s just hope that this is all he’ll try. When he sees we’re not budgin’, maybe he’ll just give up and turn neighborly,” added Michael with an attempt at humor.
    Elizabeth smiled, but Caitlin could feel their tension and stayed closer to home on her rides than she had done before. When it was time to meet Henry’s train, her father told her that he would have to stay at the ranch to take care of things, and so he sent Jake off with them.
    Cait was so eager to see Henry that she didn’t think she could stand it. He would fold her in his arms and make the fear go away. She didn’t think much further than that, for if she did, she started worrying again. For until this was all resolved, how could she think of leaving?
     

Chapter Nine
     
    When Cait saw Henry step off the train, she grabbed Elizabeth’s arm.
    “There he is, Ma, over there.”
    Elizabeth saw a slim, handsome man dressed in a dark blue suit step down and shade his eyes from the glare of the sun.
    “Over here, Henry,” Cait called and she hurried down the platform to hurl herself into his arms.
    She wanted him to squeeze her tight, to kiss all the fear of the past week away, but he only laughed quietly and prying her loose, took her hands, saying, “Let me look at you first, Cait. I want to drink in the sight of you.”
    She had worn her second-best dress from Philadelphia, but also one of her old bonnets to keep off the sun, which had fallen off and was hanging down her back. The sun was in her eyes and she couldn’t really see Henry’s face. But the feel of his hands on hers was wonderful. And he could hardly have given her the kisses she wanted in public, after all, she thought.
    “Welcome to New Mexico, Mr. Beecham,” said Elizabeth who had walked up behind them. “I am Caitlin’s mother, Elizabeth Burke.”
    Henry let go of Cait and bowed, saying, “I am so very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Burke.”
    “Our wagon is over here. Jake will take your bag for you,” Elizabeth added. “It is a long way back, so we had best get started.”
    “Of course,” replied Henry. He took Cait’s arm and they walked behind Elizabeth. He pressed it close to him and Cait felt that lovely feeling of being cherished and taken care of that she had felt in Philadelphia. Then his strong hands were around her waist, helping her into the wagon. They didn’t leave the same strange warmth that Gabriel Hart’s had done…but why on earth was she comparing the two? There was no comparison. Henry was everything that Gabe was not: well-educated, a brilliant law clerk, and a witty conversationalist, as well as a firm believer in the right of women to expand their horizons. Gabriel Hart was a good man with horses. While she had come to respect him for that, he was hardly a match for the man she loved.
    “I am sorry that Mr. Burke was unable to be with us, Mr. Beecham,” said Elizabeth after Cait and Henry were settled in the back seat. “But we have had some difficulties with a not very neighborly neighbor and he felt it best he remain at the ranch.”
    Henry looked at Cait inquiringly, but she only shook her head and said, “Later. Right now, you must give your full attention to New Mexico Territory.”
    By the time they arrived at the ranch, Henry had learned the names of the pale green shrubbery that all looked the same to him, but was either sage or chamisa, and had had all the local landmarks pointed out to him. He had expected more of a town than Ramah, with its few buildings, but was polite enough not to say anything but, “It is indeed, uh, picturesque, Caitlin.”
    When they finally reached the