Surprised to be alive, Houston dragged himself free, got to his feet and looked back toward the baggage train and camp followers to see Yank Van Buskirk reloading a rifle.
The battle lasted less than twenty minutes but the killing continued until dark.
June 28, 1836
Two Alone Ranch, Texas
“Santa Anna ran away some time during the battle,” Yank said to Marina. “Houston sent out search parties for him the next day. He was disguised as a muleskinner. His disguise was good enough that he might have avoided capture if some civilian hadn’t bowed to him and called him El Presidente. Even then he could have fooled them except that muleskinners don’t usually wear silk underwear.”
She laughed. “You’re kidding.”
Yank shook his head. “It’s the truth. He also has a cork leg.”
“What?”
“He lost his leg some years ago and had it buried with full military honors. He wears a false leg that’s made of cork.”
“No,” she cackled.
He raised his hand as if taking an oath.
Marina laughed again. “So is Texas a free country now?”
“No. Santa Anna signed a treaty that the Mexican government’s almost sure to disavow.”
“How can they? He’s the President.”
“No, he’s a former dictator, now a prisoner of war.”
“So what’s it going to take for Texas to gain her freedom?”
“Another war and American intervention,” he said. “But that won’t happen for a while. Are you ready to go home?”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I need Sally’s great-granddaughter to look at this leg and I’d like to see Robert again.” He looked beyond her. “I guess I also need to see the house without Uncle Thomas and Aunt Nannette so that stops eating at me.”
“I didn’t know it was.”
He shrugged.
“Why haven’t you mentioned it before now?”
“You’d have said it was silly.”
“Am I really that hard?”
“You’re tough one. But I do love you anyway.”
She looked away for a moment. “Sally’s great granddaughter’s dead, John. She died soon after you left. I postponed writing to you about it and then the time never seemed right.”
“Oh, no,” he said sadly. “The end of the Sally dynasty.”
“Not really. Abraham’s still at Van Buskirk Point and so is his sister, Ginger. She’s never married but he has six children. Oh, and a granddaughter that they named Sarah and call Sally. She’s a beautiful child with startling blue eyes.”
“That damn darky kid?” Yank chuckled. “That’s all Uncle Thomas ever called Abraham.”
“Your Uncle Thomas left him the house he lives in and forty acres of land.”
“Good. Our family owes Sally’s family more than we can ever repay.”
October 22, 1836
Washington-on-the-Brazos, Republic of Texas
The first democratic election in the new Republic of Texas was concluded when Sam Houston was sworn in as its first president with former private Mirabeau B. Lamar as his vice-president.
In 1837 the capital would move to the new town of Houston, Texas where Sam Houston divorced his wife, Eliza Allen.
On December 10, 1838, Mirabeau B. Lamar was inaugurated as President of Texas. The nationalist faction, led by Lamar, advocated the continued independence of Texas, the expulsion of all Indians, and the expansion of Texas to the Pacific Ocean.
In 1841, Sam Houston was again elected President and Texas policy once more favored the annexation of Texas to the United States and peaceful co-existence with the Indians.
Book Two
July 4, 1843
El Paso, Texas
Sheriff Jose Cordova had been a bandit and pistolero of wide repute until he married Ramona Gutierrez, the eldest daughter of Alcalde Ramón Gutierrez. “A tinker reported that he saw this man, Lucky Billy Van, on Washington Street last night,” he said to his assembled deputies. “In April, Van killed the sheriff of Las Cruces and three of his deputies, so I do not need to tell you that he is very dangerous.” He gave the wanted poster to the closest deputy. “Pass that around. I am having more printed.”
“I have seen this man only yesterday,” another deputy said. “He is calling himself William Lucky, not Billy Van.”
“Where did you see him?”
“Playing poker at the Palace Saloon. He is said to be keeping company with Señorita Laura O’Grady.”
Cordova smiled. “Then we will know where to find him this early in the morning.” He looked at his deputies. “Before we go, let me remind you that Billy Van or Bill Lucky is not just an ordinary bandito. He carries two five-shot revolvers and is very quick to use them.”
~
Laura O’Grady was a saloon girl by trade. Employed by the very popular Palace Saloon, she was paid ten dollars a week plus tips and ten percent of all the drinks that she shilled. Although intimate contact with customers was strictly forbidden, the Palace’s management often looked the other way, providing that the saloon girl was not charging money for her company or changing partners too often. “Take me with you, Billy,” Laura pleaded. “I’ve heard that San Antonio is very modern.”
Billy Van was beside her in bed, wearing only his silk top-hat and Mexican boots and smoking a cheroot. “Modern? Indeed so. Only a half-century behind New York and Chicago.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I was not aware of doing so. Were we not discussing the contemporary cosmopolitan nature of that shining city to the northeast, which should properly be called Saint Anthony?”
Laura started to answer but screamed as the door to her room burst open and nine men rushed in. Sitting up to cover herself with a bed sheet, Laura provided Billy Van enough time to roll off the bed and locate his guns. Ten minutes later, he and Laura climbed out the window and made their way over the rooftops to the livery stable, leaving Sheriff Jose Cordova and five of his eight deputies dead, and the other three dying.
February 3, 1844
Washington-On-The Brazos, Texas
“God damn it, Tom,” Sam Houston shouted. “I’m the President of Texas. You can’t come barging in here with your pistol cocked, demanding to see me.”
“I didn’t even pull my pistol,” Thomas Van Buskirk argued. “I just told your man out there that I’d shoot him if he didn’t tell you that I was here. And now that I’m in here I’m not leaving until we have it out over this blasted Bird’s Fort Treaty you’ve agreed to.”
Houston walked into his outer office where several heavily armed and excited Texas Rangers had now assembled. “Everything’s okay. Go on back to whatever you were doing. My friend is just agitated about something.” He returned to his office and closed the door. “Sit down, Tom.”
“I’ll stand, thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” Houston walked to his desk, pushed a folder toward Thomas, and then sat down in his desk chair. “If you’ll read that you’ll discover that there’s no definition or boundaries to the Comancheria.”
“Read it to me.”
Houston chuckled. “You don’t trust me enough to sit down, but you trust me enough not to lie to you about what the treaty says?”
“I trust you, but I don’t trust your Rangers, and I can’t read without my spectacles.”
Houston retrieved the folder and opened it. “There are twenty-four articles. Do you want me to read them in their entirety or summarize?”
“Neither. Just tell me what it’s taking away from me and I’ll decide what I’m gonna do about it.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it, Tom. The Senate approved it and unless you shoot me, I’m gonna sign it into law today.”
“I can raise an army big enough to defend my land and my neighbors’ land from the Republic of Texas, Indians or any other bandits that encroach on it.”
“Article one says that the parties will live in peace and th
at the existing state of war will cease and never be renewed. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No. And don’t be so damned patronizing or I might change my mind and shoot you after all.”
“Article two says that neither party will ever make war on women and children. Article three says the Indians won’t unite with enemies of Texas. Article four says if Texas is at war with anyone, an Indian chief will counsel with the President of Texas.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know. The Senate stuck that in there. I don’t understand it, but I don’t see any harm in it. Article five says that Texas will appoint agents to hear the complaints of the Indians. Six says that no one can go among the Indians to trade except by the authority of the government of Texas.”
“If we can’t trade with the Comanche for our cattle they’ll steal ‘em and we’ll have to fight.”
“You’ll be a licensed trader so that article won’t matter so long as you don’t trade for whiskey or guns.”
“You know me better than that.”
“Yes, but that’s what articles seven through ten are about.”
“Skip ‘em. What’s eleven?”
Houston looked at the page. “It says that nobody can pass the line of trading houses without permission of the President and may not reside on or remain in the Indians’ territory. Article nine says the same thing about no Indians crossing the line but there’s no line defined.”
“Then you can’t sign it, Sam. Worded like that, any damn magistrate can decide that I’m no longer a licensed trader and that my ranch, or any of my neighbors’ ranches, is in the Indians’ territory.”
“You’re wrong. Nobody can decide that your land or anybody else’s land is in Indian Territory. The Constitution strictly forbids the Republic of Texas from granting land rights to any power other than the Republic of Texas. So the treaty can’t define Indian Territory without violating the law, and your ranch can’t be given to the Indians.”
“Well, Sam, that’s just plain stupid, since it means the whole treaty is horseshit.” He pointed out the window. “Do you think Buffalo Hump is gonna stand for that?”
“It isn’t Buffalo Hump’s problem. The full title of this document is Republic of Texas Treaty with the Indigenous Nations of the Delaware, Chickasaw, Waco, Tawakani, Keechi, Caddo, Anadahkah, Ionie, Biloxi, and Cherokee. There’s no mention of the Comanches. That’ll have to be another treaty.”
Thomas threw his hands in the air in exasperation.
“Listen to me, Tom. By this time next year, Texas is gonna be annexed into the United States. When that happens, Buffalo Hump will be the problem of the U.S. Army. All I’m tryin’ to do is hold everything together until then.”
“Does that mean you don’t intend to negotiate with the Comanche?”
“No. I’ll negotiate. But it won’t get anywhere unless the treaty clearly defines the eastern and southern boundaries of the Comancheria, and that’s not possible without a Constitutional Convention and an amendment.”
March 23, 1844
Edwards Plateau, Texas
“I see that you are right,” Buffalo Hump said in Spanish. “What would you advise me to do?”
Thomas Van Buskirk shook his head. “I have no advice for you, only the news I have given you.”
“What would you do if you were me?”
“I would fight to the death.”
“But I cannot win.”
“No. But you can die with honor on your own terms.”
“If I die so will the Penateka Comanche.”
“Yes. That is the destiny of all Indians, I fear.”
“What if I agree to go to their reservation?”
“You might live longer to die of old age, starvation or boredom. But it will be still be the end of the Penateka Comanche.”
“If I talk to Houston will he tell me the same things you do?”
Thomas shook his head. “No. Houston will tell you that you will be happy on the reservation.”
“Houston has never lied to me before.”
“Houston might think that you would be happy to live every day with no purpose or meaning to your life. I think it would be an end to you and to the people who follow you. Which of us tells the lie? Me or Houston?”
Buffalo Hump nodded sadly. “How long do I have before the white man is everywhere?”
“Texas is about to become a state in the United States. Your time may have already run out.”
Without another word, Buffalo Hump swung onto his horse and rode away. When Thomas mounted and turned his horse toward home the war party that had accompanied Buffalo Hump followed.
~
Thomas put the coffee pot near the back of the fire then turned the bacon in the pan with a fork. “You already have the drop on me,” he said loudly. “Either shoot or come on in and share my supper.”
“I’d shoot if I had anything to shoot with and then I’d eat all your supper.”
Thomas turned to see his brother William, barefoot and wearing a ragged union suit, limping toward him from a yaupon grove. “What the hell?” Thomas stood up.
“I just caught a glimpse of you as you were leaving Washington-on-the-Brazos. It took me too long to gather my horse and gear and you moved too fast so I couldn’t catch up.” William crouched by the fire and warmed his hands. “When I got here some Comanches shot my horse and robbed me.”
“How come they didn’t kill you?”
“I kept saying Sam Houston over and over again. It confused them enough that they decided it might be a bad idea to kill me, so they just left me to die. Lucky for me you came back the same way you went.”
“There’s a five thousand dollar bounty on you, dead or alive.”
“I think it’s ten thousand now. Do you intend to collect it?”
“I might. Did you really kill all those people they say you did?”
“Yes and a lot more that they don’t know about.”
“Why?”
William shrugged. “There was no single reason, Thomas. Some vexed me, some threatened me and a few were just in my way.”
“Turn the bacon and stir the beans while I get you some clothes.” He got up and began to unbuckle his saddle bags.
“Does the family talk about me?”
“Not much.”
“I figured. The folks still alive?”
“Yeah. Dad’s retired and doing nothing.” He brought back the clothes and handed them to William. “I don’t have any other boots, but we can buy you some moccasins in a village I know that’s not far from here.”
“All I need is your pistol and your pack horse.”
“I’ll give you my rifle and the horse, not my pistol.”
William was looking at the gun on Thomas’s hip. “That’s a Walker-Colt, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Let me see it.”
Thomas chuckled. “What gave you the idea that I’d gone soft in the head, William?”
“What? You can’t think I’d steal it from you.”
“We both know you would. Get those clothes on and let’s eat.”
Grumbling about being misunderstood, William put on the offered clothing then sat down next to Thomas with his plate of beans and bacon. “You were supposed to identify my body in Virginia.”
“I knew it wasn’t you. I wasn’t gonna lie.”
“You baffle me, Thomas. You traveled halfway across the continent to break me out of prison but you wouldn’t tell a lie to get the law off my trail.”
Thomas shrugged. “I don’t spend as much time in self-analysis as you and Robert. I just sort of do what feels right.”
“Where is Robert?”
“Still in the army.”
“Ha. I didn’t think he’d make it.”
“He has to try harder than the rest of us, but he always does what he intends to and he always does it better than we do.”
“Jack?”
“Still in the army too. Stil
l cold as ice. Still judgmental as God almighty. He’s a lieutenant colonel now.”
William smiled. “He’s the only real soldier. The soldier that grandfather was.”
“You haven’t asked about Anna.”
“Piss on Anna and everybody else. The truth be known, you’re the only one I care about and I don’t care that much about you.” He reached for Thomas’s pistol but Thomas stabbed him in the hand with his fork. “God damn it.” William sucked on his wounded hand. “What did you do that for?”
Thomas wiped his fork off on his shirt and went back to eating his beans. “Next time I’ll put it down your throat.”
William’s eyes had gone dead. “You may not live to regret that threat, Brother.”
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I’ve forgotten what you are, William.” Thomas pointed toward the setting sun. “See those Comanches? They’re from Buffalo Hump’s band. I just had a pleasant sit-down with him. If you take me on and accidentally live up to your alias as Billy Lucky, they’ll gut you and roast you over their fires.”
26 February 1845
Washington, District of Columbia
Six days before President-elect James K. Polk’s inauguration, under direction from President John Tyler, Congress passed a joint resolution declaring that Texas would be admitted as a state in the Union providing its legislature approved annexation by the first of January, 1846.
Soon after, American chargé d’affaires, Andrew Jackson Donelson, the nephew of Andrew Jackson, presented the resolution to the Texas legislature. The resolution was endorsed in July and approved by the citizens of Texas in October. With the endorsement, the Two Alone Ranch lost protection under the Texas Constitution and became part of Comanche Territory.
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