“Do you want me to punch Tom in the nose?” Jud asked in a soft voice.
This time Marion’s chuckle was genuine. “I’d love to see it, but it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t even make me feel any better. And Ma would tan our hides for sure.”
“Why would I need to tan your hides?” Ma said. Then she glanced up and saw Tom with his new girl. “Oh. I can guess.” She leaned across the table until she was less than a foot from Marion’s face. “You listen to me. You will smile and have fun—or at least pretend you’re having fun—and don’t let that man think you give a grain of salt about his goings on.”
“Come for a walk with me.” Wande took Marion’s arm and they strolled down the street in the direction of the parsonage. “I did not think things could get any worse when Konrad married another. Now I realize how blessed I was. But I did not have to watch it happen. I am sorry.” They reached the corner and turned back.
“Ma is right. I’ll pretend I don’t care. And I don’t want you feeling sorry for me. You go spend time with Jud. I insist.” Marion’s voice wobbled, but her eyes remained dry. “I’ll be all right.”
“Tell me more about this game of town ball.”
Jud let Wande draw him away from Marion toward the area where two captains were choosing sides. Alvie jumped up and down with the others. “Pick me! Pick me!”
Wande stopped where the numerous conversations around them made it unlikely anyone would overhear. “Marion does not want you to charge after Tom like an angry bear. It only makes it harder.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Jud started to stick his hands in his pockets, then remembered these trousers didn’t have pockets. Instead he ran his hand through his hair. “May I ask you a personal question?”
She turned those blue eyes on him, ones that remained icy calm whatever the circumstances. “You are my friend. You may ask.” She smiled. “But I may not answer.”
“Fair enough.” Jud faced the town ball field. Alvie cheered when she was called to join one of the teams. Billie had never enjoyed the game. “Does what happened with Schuster still trouble you?”
When Wande looked at him, relief had melted the ice blue of her eyes. “I do not regret not marrying Konrad.”
“But …” Jud studied her face. Something else still troubled her.
“Some things a girl does not discuss even with her good friends.” She gave him a gentle smile. “Let us watch the game until the food is ready.”
A little stung that Wande wouldn’t share her troubles, Jud did his best to explain the systems of balls and strikes, bases and home runs. Wande made intelligent comments that indicated she heard what he said, but her interest flagged until Alvie came to bat. She flinched at how close the ball came to Alvie’s elbow. “This game is dangerous. If that ball hits her …”
“It could break her arm. I know. Some mothers tried to talk Doc Treviño into campaigning against allowing children to play.” The memory made him smile.
“But he did not succeed.”
“Instead, he played with them. He said the exercise was good for children. His biggest concern was that their skirts might trip the girls when they ran the bases.”
“Then the girls should not play.” Wande took a hesitant step forward as if to remove Alvie.
“What upset the mothers most was when he said maybe the girls should wear trousers when they played.”
“I do not believe you.”
“It’s the truth. He didn’t get his way, as you can see. By the time the girls start wearing long dresses, most of them stop playing.”
Wande looked down at her dress to where the hem hung over her shoes. She shook her head. “I would not choose to run for play.”
The dinner bell sounded, and the game broke up.
Wande woke up early to join Georg on his morning trek to the Morgan Ranch. She had discovered the Morgans had a passion equal to her own for making pickles, but they used a different recipe. Frau Morgan begged her to come work an additional day to help put up the last of the cucumber harvest. They had split the vegetables between them. Mama had enlisted Alvie in the pickle-making process at home, and the whole family looked forward to crunchy, zesty treats through the winter months when fresh produce wasn’t available.
Wande gathered six eggs, a good number, from the hens they had purchased for the reinforced chicken coop. She paused by the cattle pen to pet Karlina. Georg’s baby calf was growing into a pretty little heifer. Karlina bumped her hand in welcome. Wande enjoyed the calf, but she preferred spending time with the foals at the ranch. Someday they might have horses to call their own. Imagine. A family like the Fleischers back in Germany would never have dreamed of owning horses. Here in Texas, several of the German families who had lived for some time in Victoria had one, even two, horses. Some displayed the distinctive features of the Morgan horses—their proud carriage and upright neck—that Wande had come to recognize. Products, no doubt, of the Running M Ranch.
By the time Wande took the eggs into the house and ate a simple breakfast of toast with peach preserves, Georg was ready to leave. Mornings like this, Wande wished they did have a horse. Walking to the ranch house took an hour or more. Driving their wagon took almost as long, since they had to go by way of the road and not straight as the crow flies.
This early, the temperature hovered at a comfortable mark, and Wande enjoyed the exercise. A rain shower had fallen the night before, and the air smelled as fresh as a field of daisies. A jackrabbit froze beside a crape myrtle, then hopped away. Her sturdy walking shoes cushioned the pebbles and occasional twigs beneath her feet. Passing beneath an acacia tree, she heard the rambling song of a goldfinch. A year ago, in Offenbach, she could never have imagined a place like this. Texas was not like the land she pictured from the Verein’s descriptions. Honey did not run like sap from trees. But it was a new land, a good land—a land so big, so full of possibilities, she felt free to dream big enough to fill the space. She hummed “Amazing Grace.”
“You sound happy this morning.” Georg swung a water bag in one hand and a rifle in the other.
“I am. God is good, and I think … I’m beginning to like this Texas.”
“I like Texas too.” Georg smiled. “I met my Ertha here.”
Ertha. Of course. Texas had given things to them as well as taken them away. So far she had lost Ulla, Konrad, and Drud. This land was demanding of her. Perhaps this was what Jud felt about Texas. The country had demanded his father’s blood. He belonged. Now she could say the same.
She stopped at the creek that divided their two properties and reached into the water for a drink. Refreshing, even if a little warm—and cleaner than the water in town. If people had good, fresh food and cool creek water, maybe they would not get sick so easily. None of the families out this way had taken ill.
They arrived at the ranch house, and Jud rode up on his horse at the same time. Wande wondered where he had been so early.
“There you are,” he said. “Ma is eager to start on the pickles.”
“I am here, ready to work.” Wande smoothed the skirt of her dress, aware of how worn and dusty the blue calico must appear. Not that it should matter. She was there to work, not to make an impression on Jud. She ran her hands under the pump.
“I will see you at dinner.” Georg headed for the barn.
“Make that late this afternoon. We’re going up-country today.” Jud patted his saddlebag. “Ma’s fixed us a meal. She wants us out of the kitchen today.” He tipped his hat. “Good day to you, Wande.” The slow smile that lit his face warmed her insides like oatmeal on a cold morning. She watched as he mounted JM and headed out with Georg.
The ladies finished pickling all twelve dozen cucumbers before Jud and Georg returned. Wande’s muscles ached, and she felt drained from every pore, not to mention coated with a salty layer. Honest labor.
“You look tired,” Mrs. Morgan said. “You’re welcome to stay for supper. Or spend the night.”
Wande c
losed her eyes, imagining the pillows on Marion’s bed and the always plentiful fare that Frau Morgan cooked. But Mama and Papa were expecting her and Georg—and would worry if they did not come home. “I appreciate the offer, but I must go home. I will take a glass of tea first.” Through the window, she saw Jud and Georg had returned. Jud swung down from the horse, his legs bowed but a smile on his face. Georg said something to him, then started across the yard toward the Fleischer farm.
“What is he doing?” Wande jumped to her feet and ran to the door. “Georg!”
Her brother turned and waved, then continued walking. Wande put her hands on her hips. She did not wish to walk home by herself.
Water ran from the pump, and she heard a garbled voice from beneath the gushing water. “Don’t blame your brother. It was my idea.” Jud lifted a dripping head. “I offered to escort you home. I figured you’d be pretty tired after today.”
“You do not need to do that.”
“It’s my pleasure. How would you like to ride Apple?”
“But I do not know how to ride a horse.” Perhaps she would have to ride double with Jud.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
You don’t ride?” Jud scratched his head. “I should have expected that. I forgot I had to teach Georg. Are you willing to ride behind me? Georg has already headed home.”
Color flowed into Wande’s cheeks. Jud couldn’t tell if the thought of riding behind him embarrassed her, pleased her, or just left her confused. Although he hadn’t planned on it, he liked the idea.
Wande looked back at the house, at Ma and Marion on the porch.
“Go ahead,” Marion said. All you have to do is hold on to Jud.”
Ma leaned over the railing. “You’re welcome to spend another night with us, but I know you’re aching to get home.”
Wande nodded, descended the steps, and stopped in front of JM. The horse snuffled his lips across her hand, seeking a treat. She stroked his head. “When I was Alvie’s age, I dreamed of owning a beautiful horse like you. I will not let you scare me now.” She looked up at Jud.
Looking down into her trusting face, Jud realized how high the horse must seem to her.
He lifted his left foot out of the stirrup. Marian helped Wande get her foot into the stirrup and gave her a boost onto the back of the horse. Jud felt her settling behind the saddle and slid his foot back in the stirrup. Marion helped her arrange her skirts.
“As soon as you’re ready,” Jud said, “put your arms around me, and I’ll get you home.” He’d see Wande home safely. That was all that he cared about at the moment.
Wande’s arms sneaked around his waist, but she held herself rigid, keeping distance between them. He could tell her it would go easier if she leaned against him, but she’d figure that out as they rode. He didn’t want to make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already did. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” He felt her breath on his ear.
Jud squeezed JM, and the horse ambled in the direction of the field. But he turned the horse around and headed for the road. There he could see upcoming difficulties more clearly and make the ride as easy as possible on Wande.
He urged JM into a slow jog. Although JM had a smooth trot, the movement caused small jolts each time the horse’s body dropped away. Jud didn’t notice it until Wande cried out.
Her hold on him tightened. “I am afraid I will fall off.” Jud slowed JM to a walk. “Slide in closer to me. You’ll be safer.”
Wande adjusted her position, and Jud’s back felt like fire where she touched him. “Better?”
“Yes.” The word came out in a gasp. Jud knew conversation was pointless as long as they were riding.
They passed under the Running M sign and turned north for the Fleischer farm. “Do you know the boundaries for your farm?”
“The fence,” Wande said.
Jud started to shake his head, then stopped. He didn’t want to knock Wande in the head with his hat. “That’s just the part that’s fenced in. See that stand of trees up yonder?” He pointed to a line of acacias. “That’s your southern boundary.”
A jackrabbit ran in front of JM, and he shied to the left, causing Wande to lurch into Jud and hang on tighter.
“We almost had rabbit for some of that stew your mother likes to fix,” Jud said when the horse settled into his walk again.
“Hasenpfeffer.”
“Strange how some of your German words are almost the same as English and some are so different.”
They passed the tree line. “Now we’re on your land.” He couldn’t wish for a prettier day, the sky unmarred by a single cloud. They passed a field dotted with flowers, a calf gamboling and bawling.
“Stop.” Wande’s arm tightened. “That is Karlina.”
Jud turned JM in the direction of the field and urged him to a trot. The heifer had the distinctive white streak down her back that Jud remembered, and she was bawling at the top of her lungs. Where was Elsie, the calf’s mother? Jud stopped beside the calf, and she bolted a few yards.
Jud stood in the stirrups and looked in each direction. No sign of the mother cow. “What is she doing out here, alone?”
“I do not know.” Wande sounded worried. “During the day we put them in the pasture near the house. But it is fenced.”
“We’ll get her home.” He reached for the rope on the front of the saddle and circled it over his head as he rode near the calf.
Karlina bolted, but he let out the rope and it landed perfectly around the calf’s neck. She bawled as it tightened and prevented her from running.
“I’m going to have to get down. You’ll have to let go.” Jud waited until Wande straightened and released her hold on him, then jumped down. He knelt beside the frightened heifer. “You’ve had a hard day, haven’t you?” He ran his hands down her back and spoke softly. Karlina didn’t stop calling for her mother, but she did stop shivering. When she quit shaking her head to rid herself of the rope, he adjusted it so it wouldn’t harm her.
Back in the saddle, he said, “We’ll take it slow and easy from here. Karlina will follow along behind.”
The calf trotted after the horse while Jud worried on the problem. It would be hard for the Fleischers to make a go of it in Texas if they couldn’t even manage to keep their animals penned up.
Wande worried about Karlina. After the coyotes had gotten into the chicken coop, Papa and Georg had spent days checking all the fences. They were good and strong, although Papa wanted to build stone walls later. No animal could break through a stone wall, and only a few could jump over one.
Wande’s legs ached, and she suspected they would be chafed raw in places. Even so, she had enjoyed the ride. She hadn’t realized how strong Jud must be, how easy he made it seem to handle the horses, when she could feel the strain in his side to control JM.
Karlina bawled behind her. Wande wanted to look over her shoulder but didn’t dare, afraid any movement would upset her balance and she would fall.
They rounded the final bend, and the farmhouse came in sight. Karlina let out another blat. From the direction of the yard came an answering bellow, a belligerent sound nothing like Elsie’s usual greeting.
Karlina answered, and Wande heard the faster plodding of feet. Something—the calf—bumped into the side of the horse and jostled Wande. She clutched a handful of Jud’s shirt.
JM spurted forward and raced the last few yards to the house. Wande held on to Jud and closed her eyes, certain they would fall at any minute. They stopped as suddenly as they had started running.
“We’re here,” Jud said. “You can let go.”
Wande opened her eyes and saw Mama and Papa and Alvie—Georg must not have made it home yet—staring at her with wide eyes. A flush spread across her cheeks. She released Jud and sat back. She looked down at the ground. A long way down. Jud held her arm and she slid down JM’s side.
Papa undid the loop around Karlina’s neck, and the calf rushed to reach her mother.
Mama hurri
ed to Wande’s side. “Liebchen, are you all right? The way that horse was running …”
“I am fine. How is Karlina?”
Back safe in the cattle pen, the calf was busy nursing and comforting herself. Papa ran hands along her legs, nodding. “She has not come to any harm. We must thank you, Herr Morgan.”
“Couldn’t leave the little thing all alone out there in the pasture, could I?” Jud grinned. He walked toward the enclosure. “This must be where you keep them during the day.” He walked along the rails, bending here and there to check.
Wande took a step forward, but her legs would not support her. She had not felt this unsteady since landing in Carlshafen after months at sea.
Lone Star Trail Page 19