LAND OF STARS: The Texas Wyllie Brothers (Wilderness Dawning Series Book 2)

by Dorothy Wiley

  On their long rifles, they wrapped and tied a piece of leather called a cow’s knee around the firing mechanism. Steve had waterproofed all their cows’ knees with two coats of mink oil. Finally, they’d plugged the end of the rifle’s barrel with another piece of oiled leather.

  “Keep your powder dry, Brother” he called to Steve.

  “Mind yer top knot, Brother,” Steve said and waved goodbye.

  The two expressions were a tradition between them whenever they parted. Minding your top knot meant to watch out for Indians who might be interested in taking your scalp.

  Samuel knew Steve would guard Louisa with his life but the sight of his wife departing without him was more difficult than Samuel expected. He worried about his brothers too. Thank God they had a physician as a close friend. Baldy would be there in case anything happened. Otherwise, he would have been even more distressed. He swiped the rain and a tear or two from his face. He was not normally prone to worry or to surrendering to his emotions, but there was good reason to worry.

  The Trace was a rough road through mostly uninhabited country. It was not uncommon for travelers to be attacked on the isolated road. Cutthroats, horse thieves, robbers, and even murderers were known to frequent every mile of the Trace. At least some of the Mexican bandits were no longer a threat.

  With Baldy and Steve watching out and Thomas, Adam, Melly, and Louisa all armed, they should be safe. There was safety in numbers. Still, he was anxious for Father to return and for the two of them to catch up to the group. No one could protect Louisa as he could.

  He knew this journey would be rough on her. Her back still ached and a long wagon ride would only add to her discomfort. She’d refused to travel inside the wagon saying she would be more comfortable sitting next to Melly. Even dressed in her traveling clothes, heavy woolen cape, a floppy hat, and covered in the oilcloth tarp he’d thrown over her and Melly, she would likely still grow wet on the seat of the covered wagon.

  The interior of the wagon held all of their, as well as his father’s and Steve’s, trunks and bags. It also carried saddles, blankets, food, grain for the horses, packets of vegetable seeds, tools, extra weapons, and ammunition. And one rocking chair.

  As her wagon jerked forward, Louisa turned concerned eyes back toward him and peered through the steady rain. She touched her fingertips to her lips and threw him a kiss.

  Samuel could almost feel it hitting him. He tried his best to smile. “See you soon,” he called.

  His stomach tightened as Louisa left without him, but it couldn’t be helped. He needed to stay behind to speak with Hollis to be certain the cattle were taken care of. He half suspected that Hollis would balk at taking the men and the herd into Mexico. If he did, he would just have to convince him.

  He also needed to lock up everything. He hurried to the horse shed. He’d given Samson an extra feeding of grain and had left him saddled.

  Snatching up the reins, he mounted and rode outside past the overflowing rain barrel. Past their rain-soaked woodpile. Past the family’s graveyard that held the tiny remains of the three children Louisa and he had lost. For that’s what they were to him. Children. Because when Louisa carried a babe, they were not expecting a child. The child was already there. Even in the womb, it was a precious infant and Louisa was its mother. Perhaps that was why it had been so hard on both of them when their babies couldn’t live long enough to be born alive.

  By God, this time would be different. It had to be.

  He hurried through the rain and across the soaked earth into the pasture behind their homeplace to find Hollis and the other hands. As he rode, drops of rain stung his face like needles. Thick moisture-filled air filled his lungs with every breath. Water pooled around the trunks of the enormous hardwood trees he passed and their drooping branches dripped great drops on him as he rode beneath them. Water stood in every low place. The sodden land would not hold much more rain if any. That’s why when the Red River overflowed it could easily spread far inland.

  He soon spotted Hollis and the others standing watch over the herd spread out over a wide area. Unfazed by the weather, the always hungry cattle continued to graze on the wet grass.

  His foreman seemed pleased to see him as he rode up. “Hello, lad,” Hollis called. “How’s the Red? Has she gone completely mad?”

  Samuel nodded. “She has. Water is up to the top of the banks. I’m afraid she’ll be coming ashore soon and there’s more heavy rain coming. I want you and the other hands to move the herd even further south.”

  “How far?” Rivulets of rain rolled off both Hollis and his horse. “That far off your land will take us into a place held by Mexicans.”

  “Keep going until you find a good source of water,” Samuel told him. “Even with all this rain, they’ll need a place to drink. Let them settle down there for a while then push on toward Nacogdoches.” Each of his cows drank about thirty gallons per day. In the heat of the summer when temperatures soared, it could be twice that. So, the herd needed thousands of gallons of water per day. That’s one reason land with access to the Red River was so valuable. And why it would be challenging to find suitable land elsewhere.

  Hollis’ weathered face frowned. “True, they’ll need plenty of water, but I’m not keen on gettin’ on the wrong side of them Mexican authorities.”

  “It can’t be helped. I don’t want even a single calf to drown. If anyone questions you, tell them that because of the flooding we’re just passing through on the way to Nacogdoches.”

  “And what happens when we get there?”

  “We’ll apply for a land grant. If I can’t get one, I’ll just have to buy land.”

  “I have a feeling it won’t be that simple. But I’ll do what needs doin’,” Hollis said. “I aim to protect the herd.”

  Samuel knew the veteran cattleman would protect the herd with his life if needed. “This is hard, Hollis. Leaving our homes and this beautiful land.”

  “So, there’s no comin’ back?”

  “No. We decided if it could flood once it could do it again. There’s no point in living here with that hanging over our heads.”

  “That’s wise. Rivers are unpredictable. Might be a hundred years ‘fore it does this again. And it might be a month. Best to face the hard truth and dig another well.”

  Samuel understood. It was an expression people often used for starting over. “We’ll be on the Trace for a couple of weeks. Send one of the hands if you need me.”

  “You just take care of Mrs. Louisa. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine and so will the cattle.”

  “I pray you’re right.”

  Hollis nodded. “Anything else?”

  “Yes, with this weather and moving the cattle into an unknown place, I want you to ride in front of the herd, and have two men right behind you on point, two on swing, two on flank, and two on drag at the back of the herd.” The two newest guys always got that dust eating job, but in this case, dust would certainly not be a problem.

  Hollis nodded his agreement.

  “The men will have a hard time keeping their powder dry, so be certain they all have long knives and hatchets to defend themselves.” Despite Hollis’ reassurance, Samuel was genuinely concerned for his men.

  “Already done that.” Hollis was no fool.

  “Good. Be sure they understand I expect them to protect the herd, even if they have to fight for it.”

  Hollis’ face grew somber. “We’re always ready to fight for the brand we ride for.”

  These cowhands—Billy, Pete, Zack, Nate, Jack, Ray, Hunter, and Shane—were like that. To a fault, they were loyal to each other, their foreman, and to the man they worked for—Samuel. He didn’t actually need that many men for the size of the herd he owned, but some of them had begged for a job in exchange for just room and board. He’d given them a job, but after they proved their worth and their loyalty, he insisted on giving them a wage too.

  They deserved to be paid. They would stay in their saddles in the rain, sleet,
and snow without complaining. They would wipe their brows and sit in sweat-soaked pants for weeks under Texas’ blazing summer sun without becoming disagreeable. Enduring the weather was just part of the job.

  And the hands held every animal, even the smallest newborn calf, in such high regard that they would fight anything and anyone that threatened the cattle. They were humble men who wanted a simple life spent out in the open. They needed the cattle and the cattle needed them.

  “Are you expecting trouble, lad?” Hollis asked.

  “The trouble with trouble is you never know when to expect it.”

  Samuel rode Samson into the shed, dismounted, untied his saddlebag, and tossed it over his shoulder.

  When he stepped outside again, more rain ran down his neck and his buckskin shirt, which now stuck to him like a cold second skin and suddenly gave him a chill. He couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine. Was it from the dampness or fear for his home and family?

  He hurried to Baldy and Melly’s home first to be sure the doors to their cabin and clinic were locked and that the boards covering their windows were secure, which they were. Earlier, Melly had packed all the food from her home as well as what was stored in the cool spring house or growing in the garden. She also took along the good supply of dry firewood and kindling that she kept stored inside her cabin next to the hearth. Baldy had used an oiled tarp to wrap the logs to keep the wood dry.

  Thereafter, he ran to Father’s and Steve’s cabin and took a good look around. The cabin had no windows that needed boarding up and since the wagons had already left, there was little he could take. He found his father’s copy of Daniel Boone’s Adventures. The book had been read so many times the pages came loose from the binding. That book took the reader on such an adventure that it inspired his father and his uncles to take the risk of moving from the New England area to Kentucky. He knew how precious Boone’s volume was to Father. Father must have overlooked it. He had to save it. He carefully stored it in his saddlebag.

  Next, Samuel made his way to his own home and double-checked to be sure he hadn’t forgotten anything important. His eyes widened when he glanced over the drawers in his desk. He’d been so worried about Louisa and in such a hurry that morning that he’d neglected to pack the ledger with all his cattle records. It contained both his purchases and sales as well as his current inventory of calves, heifers, cows, and bulls. He took Adventures out again and wrapped both in an oilskin to keep them dry.

  Finally, he shoved his desk to the side and pried up the floorboard that hid his wealth. He lifted the two bags of gold and silver. His Wyllie Cattle Company had prospered over the last six years because of his contracts to sell cattle to the forts that protected this part of the growing country. The two bags held the reward for all their hard work. He wrapped the two bags in a linen towel and tied them securely with twine. The coins would provide him with the means to start over if needed. He prayed the funds would not be needed. He intended to save his wealth in case the Mexicans or a treaty forced them from their land in Texas. These were precarious times and politics or corruption could take a man’s land with little or no warning.

  So could a flood, he’d learned.

  There had to be a reason for all this. Maybe it would lead to an even better life for all of them. Perhaps this was a time, as Shakespeare wrote, “There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”

  It was time to lock up his own home. Father should be back anytime. In fact, he was overdue. It was growing even darker outside and the river was bound to be creeping over its banks by now, maybe even further. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised Father wasn’t already back.

  With one last glance around he took a moment to appreciate the home he and his family had built with such love and care. Memories lay in every square foot of their cabin. Ever since their first night here, he and Louisa had filled their home with their love and dreams.

  And on many nights, with exuberant passion. He would remember that most of all.

  Chapter 8

  Sunset Monday,

  Red River cresting at forty-five feet

  Samuel decided he couldn’t wait any longer for his father. He had to find him. His brow furrowed with unease and his stomach knotted as he rode Samson toward the river, splashing through standing water.

  He peered through the rain and into the twilight, able to see only a dozen yards ahead. The water beneath him was six inches deep now and seemed to get deeper with every step Samson took. But he had to find Father.

  Riding toward the river, especially when it was difficult to see, was contrary to his intuition or to common-sense. A horse and rider could easily be swept away by a sudden swift current. But he had to do it. He would not go back until he found his father, although he knew there would come a point where he would be forced to seek another route.

  “Father!” he yelled repeatedly into the darkness. Could his father hear him over the sound of the steady rain and roaring river? “Father,” he shouted even louder than before.

  “Son!” Father’s voice came from up ahead.

  Samuel’s heart leaped at the familiar sound. “Where are you?”

  “Over here, near the big oak. George bogged down. He can’t move his hind legs.”

  “I’m coming for you.”

  “Stay there! It’s too boggy here. And the current is too swift where I am.”

  Samuel squinted and peered intently toward the sound of his father’s voice. It didn’t help that George was a solid black stallion and Father was wearing dark clothing. Finally, he spotted his father’s face and then he could make out George’s form beneath him. Rushing water reached past the stallion’s hocks. Only the trunk of the huge tree kept the knee-high current from pushing them over.

  “I see you! I’m coming for you.” Samuel untied his rope and let out a large loop.

  “No! Stay there!” Father shouted.

  “You can’t stay where you are. The water is rising fast now.” His father’s tall boots were already completely submerged in the water.

  “I know. But George can’t swim out. The bog has him trapped.”

  Samuel frowned. Bogs were a lot like quicksand.

  Beneath his father, Samuel could tell that George was understandably frightened. The stallion twisted and flailed fighting against both the grip of the mud and the strong current. He could hear his father trying to soothe the panicked stallion.

  Samson nickered and George seemed to calm a bit.

  As Samuel slowly urged Samson forward, Father yelled, “Blast it! Stay there.”

  “No, I’ve got to try. The current could pull you into the river,” Samuel shouted. If that happened, he would likely never see his father again. The river would sweep him downstream and mud or a dangerous man-eating quicksand could swallow him up forever. He couldn’t let that happen.

  “I’m throwing you a rope. Tie it onto your saddle. Here it comes.” With a large coil in his right hand, Samuel left at least six feet of slack lariat between his two hands. In his left hand, he held the coils in such a way that they would easily slip off his hand when he threw the lariat. He swung the loop above his head several times at a speed fast enough to allow him to control its direction. Extending his arm to its full length, he let go of the rope, letting it sail into the near darkness.

  “You’re too far away. A little further next time. About five more feet.”

  “Hold on.” Was his 35-foot lariat long enough? Would the rawhide be strong enough? He judged the distance carefully and urged Samson forward as far as he dared. If they got both horses bogged down, they would be in even graver danger.

  Again, he looped the lariat above his head and with a skill born of being a cattleman all his life, he let the rope fly.

  Father leaned forward and snatched the soaring rope from the air. “Got it!”

  He gave his father time to tie the rope to George’s saddle before he yelled, “Ready?”

  “Ye
s, go ahead and draw the slack out. I think George can make it out with Samson’s help.” Bent over at the waist, Father clung to his stallion’s mane.

  Samuel tugged the lariat until it was taut and tied the rope securely to Samson’s saddle. Then he turned the big gelding back toward home and gave him the signal to move forward.

  Samson pushed off and lunged forward, bowing his neck and straining his shoulders and big hips. The rope grew tauter and so did Samuel’s nerves.

  “Come on big fella,” he urged, gently pressing Samson’s sides with his legs. “Let’s get your ol’ buddy out of trouble.”

  Samson struggled against not only the weight of the stallion and Father but also the current and the slippery mud beneath his hooves. He felt his horse’s muscles tighten with exertion as the gelding strained to take even one more step. It was just too much for the horse. He had to dismount. Slowly, he swung his leg over Samson’s back and stepped into the water. It was about a foot deep and as he planted his other foot, he could feel the current push against his legs; strong enough to knock a man off his feet. He held tightly to Samson’s reins and the saddle, ready to leap back on if the current started to push him over.

  When he looked up, his father had dismounted too. That made Samuel’s stomach clench. The water held hidden dangers. The current was dangerous enough alone, but add large rocks, logs, and other debris and injury becomes likely. There could also be snakes, hidden holes, or drop offs in the water. “Father! Are you stuck now too?”

  “Only a few inches.”

  “Hang on tight. Don’t let that current pull you away.”

  Sensing the rising water, George whinnied in fear.

  At once, Samson lumbered forward a step, then one more. But it wasn’t enough. Through the darkness and the driving rain, Samuel glanced toward Father. It was difficult to see. With his gloved hand, he swiped the rain from his eyes. He saw the stallion balk as he felt the water creeping up as high as his hips now. His father was in water up to his chest.