“Father, please, put the rope around you. I can save you.”
“No. I can’t leave George,” Father cried out. “He’ll drown. I won’t leave him. I got him into this trouble. I won’t leave him behind.”
“You have to.”
“No! I won’t abandon my horse. Leave us and find the others. Get Louisa and Abigail to safety. That’s an order.”
Samuel could recall few times in his life when he’d dared to disobey his father. This would be one of them. He quickly stepped over to Samson’s other side and took hold of the rope himself. Leaning back, he added his own strength to that of the big gelding’s and yelled, “Samson, pull! Pull!”
Samson’s neck bent further forward. He nearly had his nose in the muddy water.
The key to getting out of a mud bog or quicksand was to not panic and move slowly but purposefully. But Father and George didn’t seem to be moving at all. Samuel heaved until his shoulders and arms burned like fire with the effort. The rope tightened even further and threatened to wrench the saddle off of Samson’s back. Samuel hoped the rope didn’t break under the strain.
Holding his lips shut, Samson exhaled forcefully through his nose and snorted loudly. That meant that the gelding too was sensing the danger of the rapidly rising floodwaters.
George let out a long, loud squeal of distress that could easily be heard above the storm.
The despairing outcry unleashed dread within Samuel. He feared George would die and that would crush his father. And if his father died because he wouldn’t abandon his horse, that would crush Samuel.
He had to find a way to save them both. He gripped the rope tighter to get better traction. “We can do this,” he told Samson. Together, with enormous effort, they trudged backward a step and then two. Then he could only move inch by inch, as he pulled with all his might.
“God help us,” he cried out.
The rope suddenly went slack and for an instant, Samuel feared he’d lost them. Then George was stomping and splashing toward him with his father clinging to the side of the saddle.
Praise God!
Samson gave George a gentle welcoming nicker.
Father let out a long breath and then chuckled with relief when George drew up alongside Samson.
They both mounted and hurried away from the rising river. “That was too close,” Father said as they splashed through the standing water. “I steered George toward that tree, thinking the ground would be firmer there. But it turned out to be part of a bog and his back legs quickly sank deep into the mud.”
“If I had any doubts about leaving Pecan Point, that terrifying ordeal convinced me that living near a major river is not a smart idea,” Samuel said.
“None of us knew it could get this bad. I wish we had.”
When they were a safe distance away, his father said, “Stop here. I want to check George’s legs.” Father dismounted and with the skill of a true horseman ran his hands down the stallion’s long legs. “Looks like he might have strained himself right here,” he said as he examined the right back leg. Then, with the several inches of dirty water they stood in, he washed most of the sticky mud off of George’s hind legs.
“Maybe he can walk it out,” Samuel suggested.
“We’ll see. But if he starts limping, I’ll have to ride with you and lead him behind us. I won’t risk further injury.”
Samson was still breathing hard and Samuel stroked the heroic horse’s neck. “Well Samson, big George owes you one. Good job, boy.”
George tossed his head up and down as though he agreed. Sometimes that horse made Samuel wonder. The stallion was just too darn smart.
“Well done, Samson!” Father said and then turned toward Samuel. With gratitude in his eyes, his father said, “Thanks for coming back for me. And for not leaving me.”
Samuel nodded. “Let’s get out of here. By the way, I saved your copy of Adventures.”
In her heart, Louisa knew that she would never see her home again. Never watch the sun rise over the Red River or the sun set against the wide-open western sky. When they left, the river was already beginning to spill over the levee. If the river could come up this high once, it could do it again. And Baldy told her that all the heavy rain to the north would soon drain into the Red downstream and cause the river to swell even more.
This was the end of the Pecan Point Settlement.
She and Melly had both cried when he told them the hard truth—this was a flood of divine origin and they could do nothing but accept it.
Despite her utter determination to stay, the river had won. Samuel and Father Wyllie would think it would be foolish to try to continue living there. She guessed it would be. But it still made her heart weep to leave it all behind. For some time, as the wagon wheels rolled, her heart’s hot tears mingled with the cold rain along the lonely, deserted road.
Gradually, she tried to shift her thinking to what lay ahead instead of what lay behind. The wagon carried their most valuable belongings. But what was most precious she carried inside of her. Their child. And Samuel would catch up to them any time now. Together, with this wonderful large family, they would start a new life. She’d done it before when she and Adam first met the Wyllies. She’d been desperate and Samuel and Melly and later the others made her and her brother feel not just welcomed but loved.
She slipped an arm around Melly’s shoulder and hugged her, something she didn’t do often enough.
“What was that for?” Melly asked with a grin in her voice.
“I was just remembering how much you did for me when I first arrived. Adam and I were two lost souls and you gave us jobs, food, and clothing. And that was just the beginning. You gave us a home.”
“I’m so sorry you’re having to leave that home,” Melly said.
“I am too,” she said, her voice catching with emotion. “We’ve all been so happy there in our four homes—Father Wyllie’s, yours, ours, and Thomas and Abigail’s.”
“And we will be happy again,” Melly said with assurance. “Though we will undoubtedly face hardships before we are all safely settled once again.”
“Indeed. One of those hardships is going to be this wagon ride.”
“Undeniably,” Melly agreed. “I wish they had left room for you to lie down.”
“Samuel wanted to but I told him I’d rather sit next to you. I think I would be sick to my stomach if I were to lie down back there. All this bouncing and rocking. I do better when I can see where I’m going.”
“That’s true for our lives as well,” Melly said thoughtfully. “We’ll both feel better when we can see where our new homes will be.”
“I just want it to be someplace where our child can grow up safely and Samuel can raise his cattle.”
“We’ll just have to make sure that happens,” Melly said and gave the reins a gentle snap to urge the horse team to move faster. “As I’ve said, please tell me at once if you start to feel a tightening across your belly.”
“That means the baby is coming.” She wasn’t looking forward to labor at all but she couldn’t wait to see her newborn’s face.
“It could mean that. Sometimes women have false labor. Those pains go away.”
Louisa nodded and yanked the oilcloth further over her shoulder when she felt rain on her neck. “How long ago did we leave?”
“A couple of hours ago, I think,” Melly said.
“Samuel and Father Wyllie should be along any time now.”
Baldy turned his horse back and galloped past the wagons that Adam and Thomas drove and rode up next to Louisa’s side of their wagon. “Louisa, are you doing okay? I know this road is rough, but at least the mud is softening the packed down earth a bit.”
“Yes, I’m fine. At least for now. But I’m getting hungry again. I seem to always be hungry.”
“That’s normal. We’ll make camp soon and give Samuel and Stephen a chance to catch up,” Baldy said. “We’re well out of danger as far as the flood. Just let me find a good spot.�
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“And hopefully the rain will come to an end,” Melly said. “I need a fire to warm up. My old bones are feeling this dampness.”
Louisa was suddenly chilled too. But the chill she felt came from deep within her as a spasm like cramp gripped her belly.
Chapter 9
Monday night, Trammel’s Trace,
The Road to Nacogdoches
“Here’s your rocker, Louisa,” Steve said. “I’m afraid it’s going to get a little dirty in this mud, but you need to sit and rest.”
She knew she shouldn’t have favorites among Samuel’s brothers, but Steve was definitely her most loved brother-in-law. He was, like Samuel, considerate, caring, and fiercely protective of her. And the coming baby. Especially at times like this when Samuel wasn’t around.
“Thank you, Steve.” Louisa sat down, glad to be sitting still for the moment and even more grateful that the rain had stopped and that Baldy found a nice, grass-covered high spot to set up camp for the night.
As Louisa watched the others ready their camp, she wished she could get up and help. But she was too uncomfortable to do anything but lean back and observe.
Adam immediately unloaded some of the dry firewood and kindling. Baldy made swift work of unhitching his wagon’s team. Thomas unloaded a chair for Abigail, placed it next to Louisa, and then he began unhitching his team.
Steve worked on unhitching the third team and taking care of all their mounts. He had a way with horses. Louisa suspected it was because his relationship with all the horses was mutually respectful. She noticed that as he worked, he kept a vigilant eye on the woods around them. Samuel was the same way, his watchful eyes always scouring their surroundings for any threat.
Adam soon had a small fire going close to where Louisa sat. And Abigail helped Melly with getting coffee and preparing a simple meal of fried bacon and warmed up corncakes.
Everyone was so busy no one noticed her grimace as another cramp gripped her belly. This could just be the false labor Melly mentioned. She would wait to see if the pains kept up before she told anyone. But each one made her wish Samuel would hurry.
Another group of Pecan Point settlers soon passed by and made their camp a little further down the road. And even before the bacon finished frying, another two wagons passed by and waved. She was glad to see that at least some of the settlers were now safe from the flood.
While Melly fried another batch of bacon and the coffee brewed, Abigail sat down next to her and sighed heavily. “I can’t imagine you doing this for two more weeks. It’s hard enough on me and I’m only two or three months along. I’m so sleepy I think I could go to sleep in this chair.”
Louisa nodded. Right now, two weeks seemed like an eternity, but she said, “We do what we must.”
“We’ll eat and then we can both rest,” Abigail said cheerily. “Thomas is going to spread the oilcloth out for us and put some blankets on top of it. You don’t snore, do you?”
Louisa chuckled and shook her head. She doubted that she would be getting much sleep if the pains continued. A slight whimper escaped her when another cramp, stronger than the others, gripped her. That’s when she knew this wasn’t false labor. Her baby was coming. The realization both thrilled and terrified her and her chest filled with conflicting emotions.
“Are you having a pain?” Abigail asked.
“Just a little one. Probably from all the wagon movement.” She leaned back and rocked gently.
Abigail always seemed ridiculously cheery, a trait Louisa found endearing. Even her walk had a sunny cheerfulness. But now the woman’s forehead creased in a frown. “Oh, the smell of that bacon frying is making my stomach turn.” A moment later, she sprang up and tore for the bushes.
“Watch for snakes,” Louisa called after her. She spotted Thomas on the other side of the camp, helping Steve, and called to him. “Thomas, Abigail needs you.” When he looked over, she pointed toward where Abigail had gone and he sprinted toward his wife.
Fortunately, nausea did not plague Louisa in her early months. But hunger had. Normally, the smell of bacon frying would make her ravenous. But right now, food was the last thing on her mind.
The first thing was her babe’s survival. This child simply had to live. If it didn’t, she would die too.
Samuel’s heart sank as they rode past their homeplace for the last time. All three homes and the horse shed sat in a foot of dirty water. The vegetable and herb garden Louisa nurtured with pride, already beaten down by the hard rains, was now totally submerged. Their valuable orchard looked like it sat in a lake. All of the cattle pens and outbuildings, which sat on lower ground, were also flooded.
Years of work by his entire family lay ruined by something as ordinary as water. In suitable amounts, it gave life to everything—land, beasts, and men. In excess, it destroyed.
With their horses sloshing through standing water as they made their way toward the Trace, Father said, “I think we got everyone out of here just in time.”
“I think we should have gotten you out of here a bit sooner,” Samuel said. He wanted to chastise his father for risking his life going to the settlement, but he knew why he’d done it. “What did the men at the settlement say when you went to see them?”
“Some of them listened to reason and will go to Nacogdoches like us. Some of the others are only going inland a ways, taking their chances that landowners won’t kick them out. Watson was still acting mulish. He refused to acknowledge that danger loomed.”
“What do you think will happen to his plantation?” Samuel asked.
“Hard to say, but that river looked even more ominous near the settlement. He’ll be lucky if his plantation isn’t swept away. Along with the rest of the settlement. But it’s Watson’s slaves that concern me.”
“I’m not sure if it’s greed or meanness that drives him. But I know it will cost him.”
“If not in this life, then in the next,” Father told him, his face somber.
They turned their horses south onto Trammel’s Trace and took them to a fast trot. Conditions were too slippery for a canter or gallop. Deep ruts already covered the muddy road from the wheels of several wagons. The furrows they made were filling with water from the saturated ground. Any more wagon passages would soon make the road nearly impassable. Samuel pitied those settlers coming along behind them. They would find traveling on the Trace miserable and slow going.
A sudden chill ran through Samuel as more rain fell. It felt as if he’d been wet and muddy forever. He couldn’t wait for the first sunny day. And he couldn’t wait to see the stars again. Baldy always said that when the Almighty flung stars into the meadow of heaven, He must have sent the most to sparkle over the skies of Texas for it seemed there were more stars here than anywhere else Baldy had ever been.
And Samuel also couldn’t wait to have his life settled once again. This upheaval was hard on all of them. Especially Louisa. He hoped she would be all right on this journey. He hoped he could find land for his cattle. He hoped he could build her a fine home right away. It seemed his hopes were as plentiful as the raindrops. So, he also hoped the rain would stop. God, please make it stop!
Remarkably, it did. He gasped with astonishment and glanced up at the sky. The sky was still overcast and he couldn’t see any stars, but no raindrops slapped against his face. He stared wordlessly at his father.
“At long last,” Father said.
“Just a second ago, I hoped and prayed the rain would stop,” Samuel said.
“God heard you.”
Samson suddenly pinned his ears back against his head and George lifted his big head up high. The horses heard or sensed something up ahead.
At once, Samuel’s senses cocked on alert.
Even with the candle wax seal, the damp powder in their pistols might render their flintlocks useless, so Samuel withdrew his big knife. His father untied his whip. He was as skilled with a whip as most men were with their knives. Samuel had once seen him kill a snake with it.
His father cocked his ear toward the road. “It sounds like a child crying.”
They urged the horses to a trot and soon discovered the source of the pitiful sound. A little barefooted boy was walking up the road all alone. They both tugged their mounts to an abrupt stop and put away their weapons.
The little boy whirled around, his eyes wide and white against his ebony face. Wet, tattered rags hung from his thin frame. His dark skin and the mud that covered his legs made him hard to see in the dark. If the rain hadn’t stopped when it did, they might have run him over.
Samuel slowly stepped off George and handed the reins to his father. Then he smiled and called to the child, “Hello there.”
The shivering boy’s lip quivered but he stopped crying. He looked as if he were about to bolt into the woods.
“It’s okay, don’t run. We just want to help. We’re the Wyllies from the settlement. My name is Samuel and that’s my father, Mr. Wyllie. We had to leave our homes because of the river flooding. Are you running away from the water too?”
The child’s eyes narrowed and he seemed to study them for a moment as if he were deciding whether he could trust them. He must have decided he could because he finally spoke up. “Yup. Water came up to our shack. Pa said I’d drown if water keeps comin’. He told me to run. To go to the Trace and walk south. He said he couldn’t go. Master Watson won’t let him. He said I could cause nobody would miss me for a long time.”
“So you lived on Mr. Watson’s plantation?” Father asked.
The boy nodded and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
“What’s happening with all the other slaves? Are they running away too?” his father asked. “Are they in danger?”
The boy shrugged his tiny shoulders. Either he didn’t know or he was unwilling to answer. “Mister, is this the Trace Road? Pa told me where it at but I ain’t sure I found it.”
Samuel nodded. “You found it all right. You must have followed his directions very well.”
LAND OF STARS: The Texas Wyllie Brothers (Wilderness Dawning Series Book 2) Page 8