Chasing the Sun (19 page)

“I think so. You tell Juanita that you will need food and supplies. She will pack them. I will go help Mr. Tyler get the other things you will need.”

“I guess we’ll head out once it’s dark.”

He made his way to the house. Inside he found the children working on their studies in the front room. Andy jumped up at the sight of him.

“Hey, Will. I heard Hannah telling Juanita that you saved her life when the soldiers attacked the Indians. You’re a hero like in a book.”

William frowned. “Not exactly, Andy.” He didn’t want to dwell on the horrors of that battle. “I need to talk to Juanita, but I wanted to tell you it looks like you did a fine job of taking care of the house and family. The ranch looks to be in good order.”

Andy seemed to grow a foot. “I did what you said. I was real good.”

“I was, too,” Marty declared. “I filled the water barrels every day.”

“You did not,” Andy countered. “You helped us once. You cried the whole time about how hard it was.”

Marty’s lower lip started to quiver and William could see a good cry was on its way. “Whoa there, Andy. I’d say Miss Marty did a good job to help even once. I don’t like the womenfolk having to go down to the river so far from the house. It’s not safe.” He reached over and gave Marty a pat on the head. “You did real good, Miss Marty. When I get back, Andy, we’re gonna have to see if we can’t get a new well dug. It’s a lot of bother to have to get our water from the river.”

Marty seemed appeased and Andy had something new to think about. William found that he liked the brother and sister duo more than he wanted to admit. They were well brought up—Hannah had done a good job with them. She’d make a great mother to her own children one day.

The thought startled William. “You two get back to your studies now. I won’t have your sister saying I kept you from learning.” With that he left and headed down the hall to the kitchen, trying hard not to think of Hannah with a babe in arms. Reaching the kitchen, he could hear Hannah and Juanita discussing something quite intently and paused at the open archway to listen in.

“Mr. Lockhart, he was mad that you were gone with Mr. Will. He would not read the letter to us. Andy helped us to know some of the words, but Mr. Tyler had to read it to us later.”

“I’m sorry about that, Juanita. I honestly didn’t even think about the fact that you can’t read English. I should have written it very simplistically so that Andy could read the entire thing. Anyway, Mr. Lockhart is only angry because he supposes that he will lose the chance to marry me if Mr. Barnett spends too much time with me. I’ve tried to explain that Mr. Barnett is not at all interested in me nor I in him. Still, Mr. Lockhart has proposed marriage.”

“But you do not love him.”

“I know that.” Her voice sounded sad, almost resigned. Her next statement confirmed this to Will. “But if Father is dead, I may have no other choice. For the sake of Andy and Marty, I may have to forget about love and marry in order to keep them safe. Mrs. Terry said some things that make me more convinced that the ranch should go back to Mr. Barnett. If that happens, I don’t know what I’ll do. Mrs. Terry said the children and I could stay with them, but I hardly think that’s the right thing to do.”

“It not the right thing to marry a man you do not love.”

With this William decided to interrupt. The idea of Hannah marrying anyone, much less Herbert Lockhart, was more than he wanted to contemplate. “Ladies, I’m sorry to cut in like this, but Tyler and I have decided we need to move the cattle tonight. We’ll need supplies made ready.”

“But you’ve only just returned from a wearying journey. You labored ceaselessly in the Numunuu camp, and I know your leg has been bothering you,” Hannah replied.

“It can’t be helped. Tyler and I feel that if we don’t move out, we may get caught before we can get away.”

“I already work to put together food for your trip,” Juanita said, smiling. “I have it ready.”

William smiled. “I kind of figured you might. We’ll leave when it gets dark.” He turned to Hannah. “With all of us gone, you’ll no doubt feel like things are back to normal.”

“I’m not sure what normal is anymore, Mr. Barnett. I’m not sure at all.”

December 1863

G
entlemen,” Herbert Lockhart began, “we are visionaries, and as such we are often called upon to take great risks. The war will be over soon enough, but until that time we must take advantage of our circumstances.”

He smiled at the six Dallas businessmen gathered in his office. “The area surrounding Dallas will no doubt see a huge boom after the war, and we will be a part of that. By securing the real estate surrounding the town proper, we will be in a good position to make a fortune.”

“But every day we’ve seen more and more people pull up stakes and leave,” one of the men spoke up. “The town is becoming deserted.”

“True,” Lockhart admitted, “but the end of the war will bring significant change. Now, we might not see that fortune for several years, but I have to believe it will come quickly enough. However, with our currency continuing to be devalued by the rest of the world, we must act now to secure our position.”

Walking to his desk, Lockhart picked up a stack of papers. “I have reviewed the reports that you brought. It looks like we’re doing quite well. The most important pieces of property have been secured. I have had Mr. Wentworth draw up a map revisiting the possible routes for a main railroad line as well as the spur lines. Mr. Wentworth, if you would be so kind as to explain.”

A middle-aged man got to his feet and tucked the watch he’d been checking into his pocket. “I believe after the war we will see a huge development in Southern railroads. The political talk definitely focuses on this one issue more than others. For us, the most important lines will be those that can connect Dallas to our capital and to the seaports, as well as to our sister states in the East.”

“And where will the funding for such a project come from?” one of the other men asked. “Even if we manage to secure our position as the Confederate States of America, we will be steeped in war debt.”

“That is true enough, but . . .”

Lockhart took his seat and ignored the ongoing debate. His mind was on more pressing matters, such as when and how he would tell Hannah Dandridge that her father was dead. So much time had already elapsed and here it was early December. The young woman had to already realize the likelihood that her father was deceased. However, he would make it easy on them all and let them know this fact for certain. It would be cruel to keep them guessing. Besides, Hannah might never consider his proposal seriously unless she knew there was no other hope of survival.

He had altered his plans several times, even creating another letter supposedly from her father. In this latest version the letter suggested that someone else had written it on behalf of her dying father. Thus, the handwriting needn’t be an exact replica of John Dandridge. This had greatly relieved Herbert, who found his forging abilities better for small tasks such as signatures.

The Christmas season would only serve to enhance his position. He knew this would be a time of great family focus for the Dandridges. Hannah would be heartbroken over the loss of her father. She would need his comfort and strength. She would need a strong man to take charge of the situation.

An image of William Barnett came to mind. He had been a thorn in Lockhart’s side since his return to the ranch. Lockhart had hoped to see him killed in the attack on the Comanche village, but that hadn’t been the case. He frowned and realized all of his business associates were looking at him.

“Do you not agree, Mr. Lockhart?”

He shook his head. “I do apologize. I’m afraid other business momentarily distracted me. What was it you were asking?”

“I merely suggested,” Mr. Wentworth explained, “that without railroads to move the cattle and other commodities that we can offer, the expenses would make the trips unmanageable. Cattle being driven for miles and miles to destinations far from their place of origin are always a risk. Not only do you stand to see the death of a small percent of cattle, but there are the Indians and weather to be factored in. Moving the herd too fast could also mean a loss of weight, and unless there is time to fatten them before sale, it would mean a greatly reduced price per head. If we control the railroads here, then we can also set the prices for such cattle deliveries. It will be extremely profitable for us, and less so for those who have no stake in our arrangement.”

“I do agree,” Lockhart said. “Railroads are imperative if this state is going to flourish and reach its fullest potential.”

“But we have our ports, as well,” another man declared. “Perhaps we should consider shipping via the water routes to be our main focus.”

The meeting went on for another two hours before the men agreed to adjourn for the day. Lockhart had arranged a fine supper for them. “If you’ll make your way to the hotel dining room, I believe Mrs. Englewood has prepared a sumptuous feast for us.”

The men were only too happy to oblige. Lockhart hurried to secure some papers before joining them and was just about to lock up when a man appeared at the door. He recognized him immediately.

With his dark features and grizzled expression, Jesse Carter looked quite menacing. “Boss, I got somethin’ you may want to hear.”

Lockhart nodded and pushed the door open. “Let’s go inside.”

The man followed Lockhart into the dark office. He stunk of cigars, horse sweat, and body odor. Lockhart wanted to suggest the man use some of his pay to get a bath and a shave, but wisely held his tongue.

“So what is it you need to tell me?”

Carter leaned against the wall and grinned. “I heard tell that William Barnett and his bunch have been rounding up cattle. Heard they mean to drive them someplace, but nobody seems to know where or when.”

Lockhart narrowed his gaze. “I see. Well, they certainly can’t take them far—at least not legally.” He tossed the man a coin. “I don’t know what—if anything—this will lead to, but it may afford us an opportunity to put an end to Mr. Barnett’s interference once and for all. Keep your eyes and ears open. If you find out where they plan to take the cattle, let me know.”

Hannah looked at the letter Berto placed in her hands. He had gone to town and brought back a few meager pickings from the general store. This letter had been waiting. The return address was her grandparents’ house in Vicksburg. Her heart began to beat at a quickened pace. Father! It had to be from him. She tore open the tattered envelope and pulled the single page free. She scanned the lines quickly and dropped to a nearby chair.

“She is dead. My grandmother is dead.”

“Your father—he is all right?”

“No. I don’t know. The letter was written by a local pastor. It’s dated back in October.” She looked up at Berto, tears streaming down her face. “The pastor regrets that Father could not be there, but assures him that Grandmother received a proper burial. She was laid to rest beside my grandfather.”

Hannah felt as if someone had knocked the wind from her. For some reason, the arrival of this letter only served to convince her that her father most likely was dead. Surely if he were alive, he would have found a way to get word to her. If the Yankees were questioning him, they could easily have proven his story.

“I am so sorry, Miss Hannah. It is a sad day.” Berto told her. “I get Juanita to be with you.”

He hurried away, no doubt uncomfortable with her tears. Hannah wiped her cheeks with the edge of her apron. She felt so alone. Christmas was in three days, but she didn’t feel at all like celebrating.

“Miss Hannah, Berto tell me about your
abuela.
I am so very sorry.” Juanita knelt on the floor beside Hannah’s chair, her orange-and-brown skirt swirling around her like the petals of a flower. Juanita gently touched Hannah’s hand. “You are not alone.”

Hannah startled at her words. How could Juanita know her thoughts so clearly? “I feel alone,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even. “I feel abandoned. Why would God allow this to happen?”

“I do not know,” the woman replied in a gentle voice. “But I know God see all. He see you here in sadness and He see your father, wherever he is.”

“But God isn’t helping us. It’s like He has stopped listening. I prayed for my grandmother and for my father. I prayed that God would strengthen my grandmother and give her back her health so that she could come here and live with us. I’ve missed her so much, and now she’s gone.”

Folding the letter and stuffing it into her pocket, Hannah tried to figure out what she should or shouldn’t say to the children. Thomas Early had taken Andy to get a Christmas tree, and Pepita and Marty were busy checking on the dairy cows. Nellie, usually their best milk producer, was due to calve any day. The girls were keeping close tabs on the cow’s situation.

“We won’t say anything to the children until after Christmas. They deserve to have a nice day even if I do not feel like celebrating.” She dried her eyes again and drew a deep breath. “I want them to enjoy themselves.”

“Sí, we say nothing,” Juanita agreed.

Hannah nodded. “We will make cookies this afternoon, just as we planned. Thomas Early said he knew a draw where there was a scraggly pine. When he and Andy get back with it, we’ll decorate it.”

“I have popped some corn just as you ask. It will be ready for them to string,” Juanita declared.

“Good.” Hannah got to her feet. “We need to be as cheery as possible for the children.”

Christmas morning dawned bright and cold. Hannah had been awakened early by the children. She didn’t mind, however. They were eager for their gifts and for the joy of the day. She only hoped she could maintain a façade of happiness for their sake.

“It looks just like my dress,” Marty announced after opening her last Christmas present. She held up the matching doll dress and laughed. “Now we can look alike.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Hannah felt her spirits perk up just a bit at the joy she saw in the children’s expressions.

“I wish Pa would come home,” Andy said, staring out the window.

“I do too, Andy,” Hannah said, glancing at the clock. She’d arranged for Berto to bring Andy’s Christmas present around to the back at exactly seven o’clock. The chimes began to ring and Hannah got to her feet.

“Andy, I believe there is one more Christmas present for you. I left it out back.”

He looked at her with great expectation. “Another present—for me?”

“I want another present,” Marty declared.

“You have plenty there,” Hannah said, pointing to the girl’s collection. Besides the clothes and outfits for her dolls, some candy, and some hair ribbons, Marty was now the owner of a small rocking chair. “Come on, let’s go out back and see if you like it.”

The trio made their way through the house, and when they reached the back door, Hannah made Andy close his eyes. She led him outside, putting a finger to her lips to remind Marty to be quiet. The little girl couldn’t help herself, however. She let out a gasp of excitement, which in turn caused Andy to open his eyes.

When he did Hannah very nearly laughed out loud. His mouth dropped to his chest and his eyes widened.

“A horse! For me! And a saddle!” Andy ran to where Berto held the animal. The horse, a sixteen-year-old buckskin, very patiently endured Andy’s petting and excited discussion. “He’s really mine?”

“Yes,” Hannah said, “but for now you mustn’t try to ride him without someone helping you. You need to learn how to properly care for him, too. Berto has agreed to show you how in his spare time.”