Lone Star Trail

by Darlene Franklin

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Smoke billowed around Wande as she opened the door. Even with a wet towel pressed against her nose, she could scarcely breathe. She had to find Alvie quickly.

  She lifted the corner of the towel so she could be heard. “Alvie!” She could hear no reply over the roar of the fire. A plank fell at her feet and she jumped, almost tripping over Mittens, who ran to the door with a kitten in her mouth. “Alvie?”

  “… upstairs.” Alvie’s shout came no louder than a whisper.

  “I’m coming.” Leaving only the smallest slit so she could see, Wande felt her way to the stairs. She raced up the stairs, blinded by the smoke. “Where are you?”

  “Our room.”

  The kittens, of course. Mittens wanted to save her kittens, and Alvie wanted to save Mittens.

  The fire wasn’t so bad upstairs, but the smoke made it impossible to see. Wande moved by instinct to her bedroom. Alvie rocked on all fours on the threshold, clutching one last kitten against her nightgown. Her chest was heaving.

  Wande knelt next to her sister, ignoring the heat scorching her knees, and gave the towel to Alvie. “Hold this against your nose. Can you stand?”

  Alvie nodded, and Wande stood, half carrying Alvie. They lurched for the stairs. She heard a crash. A section of the stair railing had fallen. “Step down.” Wande closed her eyes against the flames that would engulf them when they reached the bottom step. One step at a time, she told Alvie when to move her feet. When at last she thought she reached the bottom, she opened one eye. Two steps to go. Flames stood between them and the front door.

  Alvie shrank back. “I can’t go through that.”

  “You must. Mittens is counting on you to save her kitten.” The cat would give Alvie courage she didn’t have on her own.

  Alvie tucked the kitten under her nightgown. They took the final two steps, then heard a man’s voice. “Wande! Alvie!”

  Wande almost collapsed. “Stairs!”

  “Stay!”

  Wande didn’t move. She was afraid she would fall if she tried.

  Jud walked through the flames like the angel in the fiery furnace, scooped Alvie in his arms, and held Wande against his side. “One, two, three.” He raced for the door, half dragging Wande as the fire lapped at her nightgown.

  Seconds later, blessed air. She gulped big breaths and coughed, expelling smoke from her lungs.

  Mr. Fleischer took Alvie from Jud.

  Wande collapsed against Jud’s chest, sobs racking her body. She clung to him, not caring what he thought or who saw her. “You are my Prince Carl.”

  “Shh.” Jud stroked her hair. “Don’t try to speak.”

  Wande was happy to oblige.

  Jud grieved at the sight of Wande. Her hair lay in blackened strands down her back. Fire had eaten away the bottom of her dressing gown so high he could see red welts on her feet and ankles. She couldn’t stop coughing.

  The line of firefighters had fallen back from the house. Mr. Fleischer stood halfway across the road with Alvie. Jud and Wande needed to move, now. “Can you walk?”

  Wande tried to move her foot, then sobbed.

  Jud swept his arms under her and carried her to the others. “Doc!”

  Treviño was checking Alvie, holding his head to her chest and listening as she coughed. He held up a hand to let Jud know he had heard. “Find some place she can lie down,” he told Meino Fleischer, “but keep her head up.”

  Jud approached him with Wande in his arms.

  “Her feet,” Jud said, “they’re burned.” As bad as he remembered Ma’s burns looking. Wande lay motionless in his arms.

  Mrs. Fleischer laid out two quilts—two of the dampened quilts—and Jud placed Wande on one. The doctor knelt and examined her.

  “How is she?” Jud said.

  Doc ran his finger over Wande’s parched lips. He stood and turned to the waiting group. Jud had nearly forgotten about everyone else. “Both girls have sustained severe burns, and they have inhaled a lot of smoke. But they are young and healthy. They will be fine, given time, as long as we prevent infection from setting in.” Relief swept across the crowd.

  “Are they strong enough to ride in a wagon?” Ma said. “They can’t stay out in the elements all night.”

  The men looked for the Fleischers’ wagon, but it had gone up in flames. They would have to go all the way to the ranch for one. Jud stood over Wande staring, praying, beseeching God for the lives of these two girls.

  Ma came beside him and put her arm around his waist. “We’ll take good care of them. You’ve done all you can.”

  He shrugged. It hadn’t been enough.

  “This is a good time for you to go hunting Tom, if you still are of a mind.”

  Jud had forgotten about Tom while fighting the fire. Purpose surged through him to go after the man who had endangered so many lives and cost the Fleischers everything they owned. “I’ll go find the sheriff, and we’ll track him down.”

  Sheriff Gutierrez wasn’t at the jail, so Jud tracked him down at home. He explained about Tom—what he knew and what he suspected.

  Gutierrez rubbed his chin, bristling with whiskers he would shave in the morning. “I’m sorry about the fire. Glad your place was spared, though. Let’s go round him up. I hear he’s staying at Miss Nellie’s.”

  But Tom wasn’t at the boardinghouse. On a hunch, Jud checked the stable and found Crockett eating oats in a corner. “This is the colt I told you about. Tom must have brought him back.”

  “Good thing. We won’t have to beat it out of him.”

  Jud wasn’t sure if Gutierrez was joking. He had a reputation for making criminals pay.

  “That’s if we can find him,” the sheriff said. “Any ideas? He was closer to your family than anyone else in Victoria, at least until this happened.”

  Jud considered it. “He’s been stepping out with Molly Spencer. Maybe he’s hiding at her place.”

  They rode close to the Spencer home, dismounted, and snuck up to the house.

  “You go around back in case he tries to leave,” Gutierrez said.

  As Jud reached it, the back door flew open. Tom practically fell into his arms. He came up swinging, landing one on Jud’s jaw. Both fought with the fury of men who had no choice.

  The door opened again, and Molly stood in the doorway. The sheriff joined her but stood with his arms crossed, awaiting the outcome of the fight.

  Jud thought Tom might give up when he saw the sheriff, but his presence seemed only to increase his desperation. In the end, Jud’s strength and experience won out. He flipped Tom onto his belly, tying his hands behind him with the rope Gutierrez tossed him. He jerked him to a sitting position.

  “I suppose you’re going to lynch me.” Tom spit blood.

  “You deserve it, between the destruction at the Fleischers’ farm, stealing my colt, then setting the fire.” Jud smiled and let Tom panic a few seconds. “But I’m going to do something worse. I’m going to take away what you value most.” He held up one finger. “I already have the money that you stole.” He added a second finger. “I found Crockett in Miss Nellie’s stable.” Then a third finger. “And now I’ll have Princess back. Humiliating you in the process is the icing on the cake.”

  Tom struggled against the ropes but didn’t speak.

  Jud turned to the sheriff. “Why didn’t you stop the fight?”

  “I thought you’d appreciate a chance to give the pup a good whuppin’.”

  He was right.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Marion and Ma insisted on providing food for the workers who assembled to rebuild the Fleischer house and barn. Everyone from St. John’s Lutheran and their own church had volunteered, as well as a number of townspeople. Those not involved with putting up the buildings set themselves to the task of fashioning basic furniture. The Fleischers had escaped with their lives and livestock—and the clothes on their back.

  The women insisted on bringing food, so they had enough to feed
the whole town of Victoria. Spicy Mexican dishes, savory German dishes, an abundance of Southern specialties, and peach desserts of every description promised enough for every volunteer. Everyone seemed happy. Georg and Ertha walked along the outline of the house, so clearly a couple, so glad to have a new place to start their married life together. Alvie dashed about with the other schoolchildren, healed from the burns the fire had inflicted. Even Mittens lay content under a spreading acacia, nuzzling her kittens as they gamboled about her. Every one of the miracle kittens would find a home. Alvie’s heroic rescue of them had been the talk of the town.

  “May I have some tea?” Pastor Bader stopped in front of Marion.

  She poured him a glass. “We have a good turnout.” She sighed with satisfaction.

  “It is. And it is good to see our Amerikaner and German brethren working hand in hand.”

  Marion nodded. She expected the preacher to return to work, but he lingered.

  “Miss Morgan. I want to express my admiration for your bravery on the night of the fire.”

  Marion blinked. What bravery? She hadn’t dashed into any burning buildings, hadn’t even come close to the fire.

  “You rode into town in the black of night all alone. You trusted God to protect you, and He did.” The pastor smiled in a way that expressed an abundance of appreciation. Even admiration.

  “I only did what anyone would do.” Still, his compliment warmed her down to her toes.

  He bowed in her honor and returned to work.

  Wande and Mama had been given strict orders to let others do the work. The burns on Wande’s legs, from knees to toes, were still tender, and Dr. Treviño warned her to stay off her feet and let God finish the job of healing.

  Mama did not like sitting still. She wanted to oversee every aspect of the adventure. “A new house. A house that we can build any way that I want. I never thought to have such a thing.”

  Wande almost laughed. “And all new furniture, as well.” And quilts, pots, dishes, clothes—anything they might need. Marion had insisted on giving Wande the buttercream-colored dress that reminded her of Tom, as well as a couple of older garments.

  Jud’s work crew, responsible for the newlyweds’ wing, took a break. Most of them headed for the food, but Jud joined Wande. “Mrs. Fleischer, do you mind if I whisk your daughter away for a few minutes?”

  Mama beamed. “Of course. But do not bother leaving—Wande should not walk. I will go get something to eat.”

  “Jud, you have not eaten,” Wande said. All morning she had not been able to tear her eyes away from him. Over and over she relived the moment he carried her from the burning house.

  “Food can wait. This is more important.” He took the seat Mama had vacated but didn’t speak. Wande did not mind. As long as she was in his company, she was content. She could not have predicted his first words.

  “I know I’m not perfect … I’ve been angry about a lot of things since Pa died, and it got worse when Texas joined the Union and Germans started arriving.”

  “Not this again.” Wande had seen that side of Jud, but she thought he had changed.

  He held a finger against her lips. “I know I was rude the first time we met. I didn’t want you here. I thought the Lone Star State should be for Texans only.” He stopped again, gazing in the direction of the road so many had traveled in hope of finding a new life in Texas.

  “But then I met you and your family. Good people. Hard workers. A family who had suffered loss, as ours had. I couldn’t hate you. It took me long enough to figure out I was also wrong about the other Germans. You were just people who came to Texas, wanting to start over. Ma and Pa did the same thing when I was a boy.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “When I almost lost you in the fire, I finally figured out that you are the most important person in my life. You fill my thoughts. You’ve taught me things about God I didn’t think I needed to learn.”

  Wande’s heart raced.

  Jud leaned forward, tracing her chin with his fingers. “I’m not perfect, and I can’t promise I’ll always say the right thing or do the right thing. But I can promise you that I will always love you … with all my heart. What do you say, Wande Fleischer?” He pronounced her name perfectly. “If you are willing, make me the happiest man on earth and say you will be my bride. Do you think Georg and Ertha will agree to a double wedding?”

  Wande could hardly form the words. “I will insist.” He leaned in close and claimed her lips with a kiss, as sweet as the scent from the acacia trees.

  EPILOGUE

  VICTORIA, TEXAS, 1850

  Wande peeked into the sanctuary, trying to settle her fussy baby. The combined Morgan and Fleischer clans took up almost half the seats. Tears tickled her eyes. “Why the tears?” Jud tipped her chin to look at him.

  “I am happy.”

  “Women.” He shook his head and grinned.

  Through the door, the pastor beckoned them to come forward. “It’s that time.”

  As the congregation sang “Faith of Our Fathers,” a new hymn introduced by recent German settlers, Jud held Wande’s arm as they walked down the aisle. Will, their first son, toddled out to greet them with a shout. “Mama!”

  Laughter rippled across the congregation. Calder winked at Wande and Jud from his seat next to their mother.

  From the far end of the pew, Marion stood with her husband, Peter Bader, pastor of the German Lutheran church. The Baders made ready to dedicate their infant daughter. Joining them were Georg and Ertha with their firstborn, Heinrich.

  Pastor Bennett, new to the church since the Fleischers’ arrival in Victoria four years ago, welcomed the three families with a smile. He led the parents and church members in a simple service, dedicating themselves to nurturing the three babies to faith in Christ. After the dedication, Wande found herself back in the pew wedged between Jud and a squirming Will. She didn’t hear much of the sermon, but contentment over having her family gathered around her flooded her soul.

  After the service, the congregation headed outside. The ground had dried enough from recent rains to allow a meal out of doors. “You must try some of our cheese,” Papa urged Dr. Treviño. “Our cows give us good milk.”

  “You’ll have half of Victoria lined up to buy your cheese next Saturday,” Jud said.

  “That will be good.”

  Again tears gathered in Wande’s eyes, and she blinked them back. She wanted nothing to interfere with the happiness of this occasion.

  “What’s troubling you?” Jud tugged baby Drew out of her arms.

  “I am thinking we may not ever all be together like this again.”

  “Wherever we spread across the state of Texas, we’ll always be together in spirit. And Billie, wherever she may be.” As always, Jud choked a bit when he said Billie’s name. His hopes that his sister would return from captivity diminished with each passing year.

  “I know. I wish we didn’t have to scatter. Georg and Ertha are going off to Mason County to claim the land promised us by the Verein. Calder and Emily are heading home. Marion will leave when Peter is called to another church. And even Alvie is growing up so fast.”

  She glanced at her sister, now wearing long skirts, carrying on a sedate conversation with a serious young man. “To think they used to play town ball together.”

  A smile sneaked around Jud’s mouth. “We can challenge them to a game now.”

  “Oh no. We will wait until our boys are old enough to play.”

  “Soon our families will have enough children for a team all our own. That’s how God means it to be. Our family roots sink deep in the Texas soil. Only God knows where new growth will appear next.”

  Wande leaned against her husband, as strong and steady as the acacia trees she had come to love, and looked into the distance. God was faithful, no matter what the future brought to their families.

  Will toddled toward them, carrying a ball. “Daddy play ball.”

  Jud handed baby Drew back
to Wande. The Morgan family would face the future—together.

  EXCERPT FROM Captive Trail

  PROLOGUE

  1845

  Taabe Waipu huddled against the outside wall of the tepee and wept. The wind swept over the plains, and she shivered uncontrollably. After a long time, the stars came out and shone coldly on her. Where her tears had fallen, her dress was wet and clammy. At last her sobs subsided. The girl called Pia came out of the lodge. She stood before Taabe and scowled down at her.