“Of course. We must sing of the Christmas tree.” Mr. Fleischer smiled at his daughter. “Come, let us hold hands.” The Fleischers assembled in a circle that didn’t quite make it around the tree. Wande gestured for Marion, who nodded to the rest of her family. Jud found himself between Wande and Marion.
“It’s beautiful.” Awe filled Marion’s voice. “I think we should do this ourselves next year.”
Mr. Fleischer cleared his throat. “We will sing the Christmas tree song for you.”
They sang two or three verses, a beautiful harmony, of which the only words Jud remembered was the repeated phrase “O Tannenbaum.” But he noticed tears in Wande’s eyes as they sang the last verse. Mrs. Fleischer began crying.
“Liebchen, Ulla would not want you to cry.” Mr. Fleischer embraced his wife, laying her head on his shoulder. “It is as the song says. Because of our Jesus, we know Ulla has only gone ahead of us.”
Beside him, Marion sniffled. She dropped his hand and reached for a handkerchief. “Billie would love this tree.”
The candles flickered, their cheery light a mockery of the somber mood that had come over the gathering. A part of Jud wanted to escape; another part of him relaxed, allowing grief to wash over his soul. Wande put her arm on his. When he saw the compassion in her eyes, he felt tears form in his own.
At length Mrs. Morgan broke the silence. “Tell us about Ulla.”
Wande and Marion walked to the room they were sharing, arms around each other. Alvie skipped in front of them. After tonight, Wande felt closer than ever to her new friend.
“Tomorrow is Christmas morning!” Alvie giggled, the ten-year-old suddenly turned five again.
“Morning will not come any sooner if you stay awake.” Wande kissed the tip of Alvie’s nose. “You need to get ready for bed.”
Alvie giggled again. “I know we will not have many presents this year. But just being here, in Texas, with new friends—that makes it a special day. I always like to think about our Lord Jesus being a tiny baby.”
“I feel the same way. I remember holding you when you were just a baby. And I imagine Jesus when He was so tiny.” Wande helped her sister into her nightclothes. “I told Mama that not even our Lord had such soft blond hair, such tiny hands and feet.”
“I love you, Wande. Frohe Weihnachten. Merry Christmas. You are the best big sister ever.”
Wande sat on the mattress beside Alvie, rubbing her back until at last she fell asleep. A few minutes later, Wande extinguished the lamp and lay down next to her. Marion lay in a trundle bed.
“She reminds me a lot of our Billie,” Marion said. “Cheerful. A songbird.”
“You said Comanche Indians took her. How awful.” At least Wande’s family knew that Ulla’s death had been peaceful. “Is she dead?”
“Either she’s dead or they’ve adopted her into their tribe. We tried everything we could think of, but even the Texas Rangers could learn nothing about a girl matching Billie’s description.”
Silence lengthened between them.
“Billie was special. She was born a little before Pa died in the war with Mexico, for our independence. Losing her was like losing Pa all over again.”
“That must have been terrible.” Wande couldn’t imagine. “Your father, he died ten years ago?”
“Nine years,” Marion said.
“And Jud took over for his father then?”
“Yes. He grew up overnight. One day he was a brother who would laugh with me and take me fishing. The next, he walked around with this long face, worried about how to keep the ranch running. He was only a couple of years older than Calder, but he took the family on his shoulders. Of course, Calder pitched in too. We all did.”
How old would Jud have been nine years ago? As young as Georg? Wande shuddered. No wonder he was so serious.
“Were you close to Ulla?” Marion said.
“We were sisters. We loved each other. But Ulla was … delicate. She stayed inside, helped Mama, and read books. She did not even like going to schule.”
“The trip across the ocean must have been hard on her.”
“Ja. I did not want to come. But I did not mind the ocean crossing. Ulla never got over her meer krankheit—her sickness. She was weak when she arrived in Carlshafen. She caught a fever and died a few days later.”
CHAPTER SIX
Tom Cotton was worse than useless around a ranch, Jud had decided, although he might make a passable farmer. But when the orphaned teen showed up at their doorstep a couple of years ago, Ma took him under her wing. The same way she took in every stray. Just like the Fleischers.
At least Tom was willing to try to do his share of the work. Now, with the budding romance between Tom and Marion, Jud would face a mutiny if he encouraged him to look elsewhere for employment. Always cheerful, Tom got by with doing things the easy way.
Now, Jud. He could almost hear Ma’s voice. Just because Tom doesn’t work from can see to can’t like you, don’t mean he’s a slacker. You should take a lesson from him, Son, and stop working so hard.
Why didn’t anyone else see that if Jud did that, the ranch would fall apart? As it was, Jud pushed himself hard, waiting for the ranch hands to return after the New Year. He didn’t begrudge them the time off. But when did he ever get a break? Christmas week had come and gone. Yesterday was Sunday. New Year’s was this coming Thursday, and then his regular ranch hands would be back. Maybe then …
The Fleischer boys headed toward Jud.
“We can help. I speak some English. Tell us what to do.” The older one, Georg, grabbed a shovel. “Clean animals, ja?”
Was the kid offering to clean the stables? That job usually fell to whoever grabbed the short straw. “Sure. And do you know how to ride a horse?” He needed to make sure the horse herd was all right and wouldn’t mind some company, even if they were Germans.
Georg shook his head and disappeared into the barn.
After Jud went inside to tell Ma his plans, he returned for his horse. Years ago, Pa named JM after the originator of the line, Justin Morgan himself. The gelding was getting old, but he remained Jud’s favorite.
Georg nodded to Jud, then continued pushing clean straw to one side and tossing the dirty straw into a wheelbarrow. The kid was working hard, for no reason except it was the neighborly thing to do. “Hey, Georg, thanks. Good job.”
“I am glad to helfen.” Blue eyes like Wande’s, except with a hint of green, blinked at him.
“I’ll see you at supper, then.”
Jud didn’t make it home for supper. The stallion had herded his mares farther afield, to a greener pasture. Jud ended up spending the night beside a campfire. He hoped nothing would happen at home before he could get back.
His return to a quiet yard the next morning reassured him. Maybe Tom had taken Ma into town for provisions. They’d have company at least until after the New Year. If the Fleischers hadn’t moved on before the ranch hands returned, Jud might end up sleeping with the boys in the bunkhouse. Pushed out of his own house by a bunch of Germans. He shook his head.
Jud led JM into the barn, removed his gear, and gave him a good rubdown. For the past ten years, the gelding had carried Jud everywhere he wanted to go—and some places he hadn’t. “It’s getting time for you to enjoy your retirement, JM. But who am I going to find that is as good as you?”
The horse nickered. Jud took a bit of apple from his knapsack and held it under JM’s nose. Soft lips caressed his fingers as he accepted the treat.
“Hey, Jud. I thought that was you.”
Tom opened the barn door wide, letting in a blast of blinding sunlight. Jud raised his arm against the light. “Shut the door, will you?”
“Sorry, Boss.” Tom strode across the barn. “You got a letter today. Thought it might be important.” He waited, as if expecting Jud to open it.
“Thanks, Tom. How have things been?”
“About the same. The Fleischers’ wagon’s not ready. Truth be told, I’m not sure th
ose German fellas have the money to fix it. They expecting you to pay?”
“I’m sure that’s not the case.” Fleischer had insisted on feeding his oxen with his own supplies. The man—what was the fellow’s name? Meino?—had asked him privately if he knew of anyone who would buy some of their things for cash. But that could mean several things. Maybe he only wanted to lighten the load before they left.
“I am going to turn into a doll if I continue to do nothing.” Mama sat up in the bed she shared with Papa, while Wande and Alvie took turns reading to her. They shared conversation in German while in the sanctuary of the room Mr. and Mrs. Fleischer now called home.
“You are teaching me.” Alvie looked from the slate where she was practicing division. “Papa says it is important for me to continue my lessons while we are stopped.”
“I know, my little sprite.” Mama’s voice softened. “But I am tired of all this sitting.”
“Maybe the doctor will say you can start walking again when he sees you on Friday.” Wande hoped so. The continued silence from Konrad troubled her, and she was anxious to continue on to Neu-Braunfels. “If you try to walk now, you might hurt yourself again, and he might tell you to stay in bed another week.”
“Wande, you sound like Mama.” Alvie giggled. “Telling us what to do.”
“I am practicing. Someday soon I will have children of my own to boss about.”
“The longer I sit here, the more I think about Ulla.” Mama gazed out the window. “I want to do more than see this tiny square of Texas. I want to smell the air and feel the earth beneath my feet. I want to find out for myself what kind of soil we have here.”
“And you will, Mama. You will soon.” A part of Wande welcomed Mama’s complaints. They spoke of the strength she gained day by day. The family had hurried from Carlshafen, anxious to leave grief and sickness behind. This enforced stopover had done Mama good. She would be ready for whatever challenges faced them in Neu-Braunfels.
When Jud started undressing for the night, he heard paper crinkling and remembered the letter. He lit the lamp.
The postmark stopped him cold. Neu-Braunfels. The Fleischers knew people over there, not him.
He checked the address again: Herr Judson Morgan, Running M Ranch, Victoria. He broke the seal, unfolding the letter on top of the table next to the lamp. A smaller sheet, addressed to “Wande,” was tucked inside the page addressed to him.
As he read the shaky handwriting, the words jumped off the page. Their meaning was all too clear.
Mr. Morgan,
I know you are a good man. You have taken in the Fleischers in their time of need. Now I have a favor to beg of you.
Mr. Fleischer refused to allow an official engagement between myself and Fraulein Wande. Perhaps he saw into my heart that all was not right. Wande deserves the very best. Any man married to her will be fortunate. She is hardworking, capable, and good-looking as well. She also has an unshakeable faith in God.
But our agreement was based on our long association and common goals. To my shame, I confess that on the voyage to Texas, I found my heart pursuing someone else. The short of it is, I married her as soon as we arrived at Carlshafen. We are already expecting our first child.
I sent word to Wande as soon as we landed, but the Fleischers must have left Germany before my letter reached them. Imagine my shock when I learned they were in Texas!
I have enclosed a letter for Wande, but I beg of you, as a Christian gentleman, to break the news to her as gently as you can.
Jud read it a second time. Not that he would ever marry a German girl, but how could any decent man abandon a woman like Wande?
“Coward.” The word exploded from Jud’s lips. Bad enough that this Konrad had betrayed Wande’s trust; he didn’t even have the courage to tell her in person. Jud wanted to shred the letter, as if he could destroy the news it carried. But Konrad had more to say. Jud forced himself to continue.
One more favor I must beg of you. The Fleischers expect my help in starting their farm. As you may know, the land purchased for us by the Verein is at a distance. The Fleischers may need assistance in reaching their goals. They will not ask; they are too proud. But if you could offer a job to any of them, especially to Wande, I would be most grateful. I do not wish her to go hungry because of me.
With warmest regards, Konrad Schuster
Jud clenched the letter in his fist. Did Konrad expect the Fleischers to stay in Victoria instead of going on to where they belonged? Now that Konrad had abandoned his responsibility, he wanted Jud to take care of the problem.
Jud had always known Germans couldn’t be trusted. Now he had proof.
CHAPTER SEVEN
You should go in.” Tom laced his fingers more tightly with Marion’s. “Your Ma and your brother are both watching.” He leaned in close to her face. Marion’s breath caught. Was Tom about to kiss her, in full view of every resident of the Running M Ranch? She felt her face lifting to meet his kiss, her eyelids fluttering shut.
Instead of lips, calloused fingers brushed her cheeks. “Sweet Marion. I’m not near good enough for a lady like you.”
Marion’s eyes flew open, and she gazed into Tom’s dark brown ones. “You’re a good man, Tom Cotton. Don’t let anybody tell you different. Especially not my brother.”
Jud cared about her. She knew that. Unfortunately, that meant he was overprotective and interfering. The curtain in the parlor window swayed, and Marion hoped whoever was there had stepped away.
“Shall we walk?” He offered his arm, and they strolled among the trees in the gathering dusk. They stayed close enough to the house for propriety, but far enough away for privacy.
“Your brother is the one I have to convince.” Tom frowned. “He thinks I’m a lazy good-for-nothing.”
“That’s not true.” The words came automatically. Jud had made no secret of his displeasure with Tom’s work habits. “Maybe you weren’t supposed to be a rancher. What did you dream of doing when you were a boy?”
“I thought I’d be a farmer, like my dad and his daddy before him. I grew up listening to the stories of how Granddaddy crossed the mountains from Virginny and started all over again in Tennessee. Later my daddy got the wandering spirit and came to Texas.”
Marion gazed at the landscape of the ranch, at the beloved rills and hillocks. She couldn’t imagine leaving, at least not to go far away. “Do you think you’ll want to leave Victoria some day?”
“Why, Miss Marion, are you saying you’d miss me?” Tom stopped where the split-rail fence enclosed their chicken coop and took a seat. He patted the spot next to him. She gathered her skirts and sat beside her beau.
A breeze blew, and Marion drew her shawl around her shoulders. Without asking permission, Tom drew her close, warming her body with his nearness. She nestled against his shoulder.
“Here we are smack dab in the middle of the continent,” Marion said. “I wonder what it’s like to travel across the ocean. Ma and Pa took us to see it once, before we moved here, but I was too little to remember. Or what about going south or west into Mexico? Or to head into the United States?”
“We’ll be United States citizens soon. Just a few days from now, on the twenty-ninth of December.”
“I keep forgetting.” Texas’s battle for independence cost Marion’s family so much. She couldn’t quite believe they had gone and joined the United States less than ten years later.
“The other day, I heard they’re going to keep flying the Texas flag as high as the United States flag—because Texas was a country all on its own before it joined the Union.” Tom’s arm dropped to Marion’s waist, and her stomach did flip-flops. “I can tell you one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s nothing anywhere on this continent that’s half as pretty as you.” Tom lifted Marion’s chin, and their lips met.
Jud watched the lights blink out in the main house. If Ma saw him pacing the bunkhouse, she’d worm the truth out of him. He wasn’t sure
he wanted to tell anybody about Konrad’s letter, at least not yet.
Jud didn’t need more responsibility dumped on him. With Calder away and married, and Marion infatuated with Tom, he might have a chance to do something for himself—like look for a wife. Of course if Marion did settle for Tom, Jud would have to provide something for them. He had his eye on a piece of property that could work for a small farm. Tom might make a good farmer. He might be able to grow things—Lord knew, he couldn’t handle animals.
Then there was Billie … Jud had hoped over the winter to look more into her disappearance, not that he expected to learn much new. All their searches and offers of ransom last spring yielded nothing. Now the trail was even colder. Ma said he should accept the fact she was dead and move on. He tried. But he couldn’t with reminders of his little sister everywhere around the ranch, in Victoria, and in every waking sunrise.
Lone Star Trail Page 5