Chasing the Sun (18 page)

He didn’t get a chance to knock. The door opened and Ted Terry stood with lamp in hand. “Will, I didn’t think to see you again so soon. Who have you brought with you?”

“Ted, this is Miss Hannah Dandridge. She’s the one I told you about.”

The older man smiled. “Welcome, Miss Dandridge. You two look done in. You’d best come inside and tell me what’s happened.”

William nudged Hannah toward the house and was glad that she didn’t offer protest. Once inside, William explained their circumstances and why they’d come. Ted listened with his customary consideration, until his wife appeared.

“Goodness, Mr. Terry, why haven’t you asked these folks to sit?” she questioned. She took one look at Hannah and frowned. “Child, you look positively spent. What does our Will mean by dragging you out here?”

“This is Miss Hannah Dandridge,” William interjected. “She’s the one staying at my . . . at the ranch.” He looked to Hannah. “This is Mrs. Terry.”

“Now, now. No sense in formalities. Call me Marietta.”

“Marietta, Will was just tellin’ me that they were up at Tierra del Diablo helping some sick Comanche when soldiers came in and slaughtered most of the living.”

“There was a Comanche village that close by?” she asked with a shudder, then sobered even more. “And you two were up there? I can see there’s a long story to be told, but not now. Miss Hannah is all but weaving on her feet. I’m going to put this child in a warm bath and then to bed.”

William smiled at the motherly woman. “You’d better feed her, too. She hasn’t had a whole lot to eat in the last two weeks.”

Marietta shook her head and gave a
tsk
ing sound. “Well, we will see about that.”

Hannah willingly went with the woman while William remained with Ted. He knew the older man would be able to offer some objective thought on the events of the day.

“Why don’t you come with me to the kitchen, and we’ll round you up something to eat and drink while you tell me about the parts you left out. This story seems a bit more complicated than you’ve let on.”

“It’s very complicated,” William said, frowning. He followed Ted to the kitchen and sank into an offered chair. “I think someone sent the soldiers because of us, but I can’t be sure.”

“Why do you say that?” Ted motioned the cook to his aid. An older Mexican woman stepped forward and awaited instruction.

“
Hola
, Teresa,” William greeted wearily.

“Hola, Mr. Will.” She beamed him a toothy smile. The years had taken their toll on her body and face, but her teeth had remained intact and were her pride and joy.

“We need a plate of food and some hot coffee for Mr. Will. The missus is going to want a plate for our other guest, as well.”

She nodded and went quickly to work as Ted pulled out the only other chair at the small table and took a seat. He looked to William, awaiting further explanation. William continued.

“Miss Dandridge went to help the Comanche when that wounded boy I told you about came to the ranch, asking her to come. I tracked them out to Tierra del Diablo and when I saw the mess, I stayed and helped, too. Many of the Numunuu were dead and needed burying. Several days ago we sent a letter back to the ranch letting them know where we were and that we were safe. The soldiers attacked the village at dawn today, and we were caught in the crossfire. Even so, once the commotion settled down, I heard the captain instruct his men to find the white hostages.”

“Meaning you and Miss Dandridge?”

“That’s what I think.”

Teresa placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. William took a long drink before continuing. “It was almost like they knew who they were looking for. I know they always look for white hostages anytime they attack an Indian village, but this made it sound like they knew we were there.”

“But who would have sent the soldiers? Your people wouldn’t have done that, would they?”

William took another drink and nearly finished off the contents. “No,” he said, putting the cup down. “They wouldn’t have.”

“Maybe the soldiers had been tracking that band. You know they are working to quell the uprisings. There are so many bands out there wreaking havoc on the settlers that the army had to step in and put it down.”

“I know that, but we were well hidden.”

“Yet you found them,” Ted countered. “You aren’t the only one who can read tracks.”

He let out a heavy sigh as Teresa place a plate of food in front of him. “Gracias.” She picked up the cup and went to refill it as William continued. “So you think this was just some coincidence?”

“Now, Will, you know I don’t believe in happenstance. God has a plan for everything. He knows where we’re going to be at any given time, and He has foreknowledge of all that will happen. You were there for a reason, and those soldiers came for a reason. God alone knows what those purposes were.”

“Sure wish He’d let me in on it,” William said, picking up his fork.

“You stop fighting Him and surrender, and He just might,” Ted said with a mischievous smile. “You think He doesn’t know that you’re angry with Him right now. You think you’re somehow keeping God in the dark—that He hasn’t a clue what’s in your heart, but He knows it all, William. He knows why you’re fighting Him and He knows just what it’s going to take to bring you back in line. And, in time . . . you’re going to know it, too.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” William said, stabbing a piece of beef steak. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

M
arietta kept Hannah company as she ate her supper in bed. The older woman had insisted it be done this way, and Hannah was too tired to argue.

“You’re very fortunate to have someone like Will around to help you,” Marietta said, working with a crochet hook to make a shawl.

Hannah watched the woman’s nimble fingers quickly manage the blue yarn. She considered her words carefully. “He is rather . . . imposing.”

Laughter was not what Hannah had expected from Marietta Terry. The woman looked up from her work and shook her head. “I’ve heard William Barnett called devoted and responsible, but never imposing. Why don’t you tell me why you feel that way?”

Again, Hannah wondered just how much she could say. The Terrys were, after all, good friends of William’s family. They were also her closest neighbors, if a person could call seven miles away close.

“He just strikes me as . . . determined. Perhaps that’s a better word. He knows what he wants and believes his way to be best.”

Marietta nodded. “He’s a smart one, that Will. Even as a very young man he seemed to understand this land better than his pa or his brother. Their ma, God rest her soul, doted on him. I think that was because the older boy was his father’s shadow. The two sons were quite different. William was always so considerate . . . you might even say softhearted. I’ve seen him go out of his way many a time to offer some kindness. Before this war broke out, I don’t think the man had an enemy at all. Folks knew him to be reliable and helpful, and out here, that’s more valued than gold.”

Hannah thought for a moment about Marietta’s statement. William Barnett had been quite helpful to her, and she supposed he was reliable, as well. “Why did he go off to war?”

With a frown, Marietta ceased her crocheting. “His pa had it in his mind that it was their duty to go. Ted tried to tell him that sending one son to fight was more than enough, but Jason Barnett never did anything by halves. He said not only would Lyle go to fight, but William and he would go, as well. They would make a formidable trio—at least that’s what he told Ted. Poor Lucy would have been beside herself, had she still been alive. I think it was the only time I’ve ever been glad she was gone. She was a dear friend and I miss her more than I can tell you. We only had a very short time together, but that woman packed a lot of love into those two years.”

“How did she die?” Hannah asked.

“She took sick one winter. I think it was early December. Some sort of grippe. Will’s pa and brother were off dealing with some calving cows. They’d left Will to break some horses, but instead, he was with her the whole time. She died with him at her side—holding her hand.”

Hannah could well imagine Mr. Barnett—William—sitting beside his mother, trying his best to nurse her back to health. “My mother died when I was fourteen,” she murmured. “I was there when she passed on. My brother was, too. He was twelve. The doctors said she had a ‘poor constitution.’ I think it was their way of saying they didn’t know what killed her.”

“How long ago was that?” Marietta asked.

“Ten years—1853.”

“Why, that’s the same year that Will lost his ma. You two have a great deal in common.”

Not wanting to hear about common ground with William Barnett, Hannah hurried to change the subject. “The Barnetts fought for the North. Wasn’t that rather strange?” Hannah nibbled on the corn bread Marietta had slathered in butter and pretended the answer wasn’t important.

“It isn’t so strange considering folks in Texas can be pretty diverse when it comes to where their loyalties lie. Mostly folks here are for the preservation of Texas. Those that have been here as long as Ted and me remember when Texas was its own country. If you take a good look around, you’ll see that there are a good number of people supporting the Union. Some quite boldly and others in a more covert manner. Sometimes whole towns are favoring the North rather than the South.”

“My father definitely supported the Confederacy. Of course, now he may be captured or even dead.”

“Will mentioned that on his earlier visit. I’ve been praying for your father ever since.”

“I have no idea of what I’ll do if he’s dead.” Hannah shook her head. “Especially if the ranch goes back to Mr. Barnett.”

“Well, it is his ranch. The state had no right to take it from the family. I think once this war is settled it will be set right again.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, too. And if my father is gone, that leaves me with my brother and sister to raise. I have no way to support them.” Hannah had no idea of why she was telling Marietta Terry, very nearly a complete stranger, all of this information. Somehow the woman just put her at ease and it felt right.

“Mr. Lockhart of Cedar Springs has proposed I marry him. He said he would take care of us, but I don’t love him.”

“You shouldn’t ever marry a man you don’t love. Hard times come in every marriage, and if you don’t have love to hold you together you’re going to have a bad time of it.”

“Mr. Lockhart has implied that my father had approved him as suitor and husband. I couldn’t say if that was true or not. My father changed a great deal after the death of my mother, but even more so after my stepmother died. A kind of bitterness overtook him, and the man I knew was suddenly more demanding and far less kind. Even my grandparents were shocked by his behavior and choices. I don’t think I knew him at all these last few years.”

“Death can certainly change a man,” Marietta replied. “I know losing his mother was hard on Will. He bore a heavy sorrow in her passing.”

Hannah nodded. “It must have been hard for him, especially if his mother was the one who truly understood him.”

Marietta put aside her crochet work, tucking it into a small basket at her feet. “William needs a good woman in his life. The war was hard on him. He had no heart for it.”

Hannah frowned. “I suppose no one really has a heart for it.”

“But Will less than others. He’s always been a man of peace. He wasn’t given to fighting and drinking with the other men. His father and brother could be quite the ruffians when they chose to be, but not Will. He always seemed far more sensible. I think his father worried this made Will soft, but I think it just made him considerate. And that goes a long ways with me.” She shook her head. “The War Between the States has separated a lot of good families from their loved ones. I’d expect you’ve probably lost someone, as well.”

“My brother and grandfather were killed defending Vicksburg.”

Marietta gave her a sympathetic smile. “You have endured so much for one so young.”

Hannah finished with the tray and leaned back against the pillows. “It amazes me still that you can have both Yankee and Confederate support in the same state. I was born in Vicksburg and they were most decidedly in favor of the South. I thought—and upon reflection I can see the naïveté in my thinking—but I presumed if a state sided with the Confederacy, the people would also.”

Marietta picked up the basket at her feet, then hoisted up the tray and smiled. “That would be logical thinking in most states, but Texas isn’t most states. We’re still more like a country all our own. If you stick around, you’ll learn that for yourself.” She smiled. “You get some rest now. I’ll check in on you later and make sure you’re warm enough.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And Hannah,” Marietta said, pausing at the door, “don’t be marrying someone just out of fear for the future. You need to remember that God will provide. You and your brother and sister can always come here and stay a spell with Ted and me. We like having folks around. Our children are all grown and living elsewhere now, so your little family would be a welcome addition.”

Hannah could hardly believe that this woman would extend such an invitation to a stranger. Marietta’s kindness touched Hannah’s heart and gave her a reassuring peace that defied words.

“Thank you.”

Marietta nodded, then blew out the lamp and, juggling her basket and the tray, managed to close the door as she left.

Hannah slid further down and felt the warmth of the quilt wrap around her like loving arms. It had been so long since she’d slept in a bed. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and thanked God for being clean and fed and warm. Then, with a memory of the soldiers marching the Comanche off to the reservation, Hannah frowned.

I wish I could have stopped them. I wish I could have done something to save the Numunuu. O God,
she prayed silently,
Night Bear looked so weak and betrayed. Father, please strengthen him and help him to understand that we didn’t want this any more than he did.

The memories of the battle were almost more than she could handle. The scenes replayed themselves out over and over, and when it was all done there were no more than eight living souls who survived the attack, ten counting Mr. Barnett and herself. What would happen to them now?

“What will happen to any of us?” she whispered in the dark.

William was glad to be home at last. He’d felt a sense of unrest ever since the attack the previous morning on the Numunuu camp and longed for the solitude of the ranch. Tyler and the soldiers had also recently returned from collecting cattle, and were more than a little anxious to begin their trek east with the animals.

“Now that you’re back, we need to leave as soon as possible,” Tyler told him. “It’s getting more and more dangerous, and if this is going to work, we need to get a move on.”

“I know. I was already figuring that. What I can’t understand is how the soldiers found the Numunuu camp.”

“Well, it’s good riddance, I say.” Tyler’s lip curled in anger.

“I can’t figure out how they knew we were there in the first place,” William continued. “They didn’t call us by name, but they knew there were white people in that village. After the fight, the captain told his men to find the white hostages. I heard it myself. Later, when the captain learned our names, he wasn’t surprised by it or wondering where we’d come from. Instead, he tried to bring up how my family fought for the North.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. Miss Dandridge interceded by pretending to have the vapors or whatever it is women have when they faint dead away.”

“She fainted?”

“No, but she gave a good impression of heading that way.” He smiled. “She really is something else.”

Tyler laughed long and loud. William saw Berto headed their way and elbowed his friend to quiet down. “I don’t want to have to explain to Berto what it is that’s amused you—especially seeing as how I’m afraid to know the reason myself.”

“We are glad to have you returned,” Berto told William. “We were not able to read your letter in full, until Mr. Tyler come here. Mr. Lockhart, he would not tell us what you said.”

“What do you mean?” William asked.

“It seems Lockhart was here when the letter arrived via your Comanche messenger,” Tyler interjected. “Berto told me he read the letter, threw it to the ground, and left.”

“Well, maybe that explains the soldiers.” William shook his head. “Lockhart hates the Comanche only mildly more than he hates me. That letter explained our whereabouts and Lockhart probably called out the militia.”

“If that’s the case, we’d best leave with our steer tonight. No telling what he’ll do if he sees what we’re up to.”

“I can’t imagine that a strong Confederate supporter like Lockhart would interfere with such a patriotic task. He might hate me, but I doubt he would extend that hatred to the Confederacy. After all, he’s in this war for what he can get out of it. I heard that he’s been buying up properties all around.”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah, he tried to approach my family about our ranch, but like Grandpa told him, the ranch is mine now—even if there’s nothing but charred remains.”

“Still, I wouldn’t expect resistance from him when it comes to our efforts to help the starving Confederacy.”

“There’s no telling,” Tyler said. “I do know I’ve worked too hard to see this fall apart now. If we can make this work, it can become a regular run, as far as I’m concerned. I’ll see to it that you get paid, of course.”

William ignored the comment. He wasn’t at all certain he wanted to get into a routine of sneaking cattle to Louisiana. He sighed as he realized his plans for sleeping on the ranch that night were all but a dream. “Berto, can we have things ready in order to leave tonight?”