Tara's Gold by Lisa Harris

the cellar until the next church social. And all of this had given her little time to pursue the gold.
    Tara reached over and lit the kerosene lamp beside her bed before pulling out her aunt’s journal from beneath her pillow. Stifling a yawn, she opened the pages to the one she’d marked. Aunt Rachel’s handwriting was easy to read, but the meaning behind it was often coded. In her dreams the meaning seemed clear, but in real life the answers were far less easy to interpret. She was sure she was missing something important in her aunt’s writings, but exactly what, she didn’t know.
    One thing was certain, however. Mr. Jefferson was not mentioned in her aunt’s journal. But that didn’t stop him from plaguing her dreams. She’d seen him twice since his insistence that she stop her search. Both times had been at church, which wasn’t a setting where she could openly speak her mind. So, instead, like any proper lady, she’d made sure that she was well mannered and cordial as she greeted him. But that was it. She refused to be taken in by his enchanting eyes or his smile that set her heart to racing, not once forgetting that he had become her opponent.
    She pulled her robe closer around her shoulders. She hadn’t forgotten Pastor Reeves’s words, either. His convicting sermon from the book of Colossians had lingered with her, reminding her that she wasn’t to serve men, but God. And once again, her motives for coming to Iowa came into question. Trying to please others while proving she could do something valuable with her life perhaps wasn’t as noble as she’d once thought.
    Shoving aside feelings of guilt, Tara fingered the edge of the journal and read once again the entry for April 17, 1864.
    “Received word from MS today. Further contact unsafe.”
    Tara squeezed her eyes shut, wishing her aunt Rachel were here to explain the words she’d penned. Tara missed her so much. But crying certainly wouldn’t accomplish anything. From an earlier entry, she knew that MS stood for Mr. Schlosser, and that he had been one of her aunt’s contacts. Aunt Rachel herself had once confided some of the secret code that had been used and had told her that the bullion referred to the government’s gold. But secured where?
    She needed to speak to Mr. Schlosser. Mr. Martin, her only connection to Mr. Schlosser, had been away for the past month and was planning to return today. Somehow, in the middle of laundering the bedding and washing the feathers from the mattresses and whatever else Mrs. Carpenter had planned, she was determined to slip out of the house and find a way to pay a call on the man.
    She’d made several friends in town, including Constance Van de Kieft and the pastor’s wife, Mary, but telling the Carpenters she was going visiting at one place while actually calling on Mr. Martin wasn’t an option. Neither was taking Mr. Carpenter with her this time. The older man was feeling somewhat under the weather, and Mrs. Carpenter was insisting he stayed at home until he felt better.
    Tara quickly changed her clothes. Then she tugged on the bottom of her short cape with determination. She would just have to take a chance and go by herself, and hopefully, she’d be able to find answers to her questions.
    She opened the door to Mrs. Carpenter’s cheery grin. “Good morning, Miss Young. I was just about to knock. You’re up bright and early.”
    Tara forced a smile, feeling anything but chipper at the older woman’s greeting. “Good morning, Mrs. Carpenter.”
    “I’ve brought you something more suitable to wear.”
    Tara’s brows rose in question as she took the calico garment that was thrust into her hands. For the past few weeks, she’d donned two of her own simpler dresses while working. Neither was fit to wear in public anymore, but they’d been suitable for the work they had done.
    Tara held up the plain dress that had to have been made decades earlier. “What am I to do with this?”
    “I wanted to