Savage Horizons

by Rosanne Bittner

  He got up from his chair and took a deep breath. It was a foolish worry after all these years. If Caleb Sax wanted him he would have come by now. Byron walked to the door and began picking up the glass. His secretary entered and her eyes widened.

  “Mr. Clawson! What happened, sir?”

  “Nothing. Just a little accident. Clean this up, will you? I have more important things to do.”

  He walked to a window and looked out at the street below, where a newsboy was hawking papers, shouting about more political and social unrest in Texas. He wondered if it might not be a good time to buy considerable property in that province of Mexico. If it ever became a part of the States, land values would increase dramatically. He would have to talk to his brokers about that.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Two

  EMILY Stoner approached the three men timidly, which was in a sense amusing, for she had spent years being around men, sleeping with strangers. But this was different. These men were not coming to her. She was going to them, and for a very different reason. These were brave, prominent men who might shun her. Perhaps she had no business approaching them at all, yet the possibility of starting a new life someplace else was too enticing. She had been shunned and scorned for years. What did she have to lose now?

  The crowd was dispersing, talking among themselves about Texas and the land that could be had for free. Some wondered aloud if slavery was allowed there. But Emily Stoner didn’t care about slaves, or whether Texas was part of Mexico or the United States. She cared only that it was someplace new, where there were perhaps lonely men who needed a woman to help keep house, to cook—maybe even marry. She had deliberately left the paint off her face and wore a plain blue cotton dress.

  “Excuse me,” she said to a burly, bearded man with ruddy skin and kind brown eyes.

  The man turned, looking her over with a frown. She was thin and pale, and for some reason she held a shawl over one side of her face, a face that bore traces of youth too soon destroyed.

  “Yes, ma’am? What can I help you with?”

  Emily swallowed, her pale blue eyes darting about as though someone was going to point a finger and chase her away.

  “I was just wondering… I listened to you talking about Texas. The newspaper said some men from Texas would be down at the docks to talk to people about settling there. I realize you speak mostly to men, telling them about free land and all. But what about women? Are women needed?”

  A faint smile passed over the man’s mouth and his eyes took inventory. Skinny, awfully skinny. Could be pretty, though. He pushed back his hat. “Ma’am, women are always needed in places like that. Some men go there alone, some go with wives who end up gettin’ killed or die givin’ birth, things like that. It would take a pretty brave lady, though, to go there alone. Is that what you’re asking?”

  She dropped her eyes. “Well, I have some money, enough perhaps to pay someone to build my own cabin. I could take in wash, mending—perhaps cook. I can do all those things.”

  He rubbed his chin. “Well, ma’am, let’s just say in Viesca, where we come from, a nice little woman like you would be mighty popular. You might find more mendin’ and washin’ and cookin’ on your hands than you could handle, along with several offers of matrimony. There’s a lot of lonely men in them parts.”

  She smiled, raising her eyes almost bashfully. He apparently did not suspect what she was. Maybe none of them would. She could be a respected woman. “Viesca. Where is that?”

  “About a hundred miles north of San Felipe. Most of our men are from San Felipe, Austin’s headquarters. They went on upriver. We come from all over the Anglo settlements, actually. Viesca is pretty rugged territory. There’s a lot of dangers, ma’am. No doctors. Indian raids and such. But there’s quite a few of us, and we’d see to it you’d be protected, if you wanted to settle there.”

  She nodded, holding the shawl close over her face. “Well, I’m alone. My family is all dead and my… my husband died recently. I have debtors who hound me,” she lied. “I thought perhaps if I went to Texas—”

  He laughed lightly. “Say no more. People have gone there for worse reasons. New Orleans is as far as we planned to go. We brought some goods to trade and agreed with Mr. Austin to say our piece about Texas, try to get some help and make people aware of what’s happenin’ there. We want good, honest men and women—no riff-raff and no squatters. We’re hopin’ that with enough numbers we can get a few more rights under the Mexican government.”

  “I see. Well, how would I go about getting there?” She widened her eyes for an innocent look, somewhat amused that he thought her respectable. Perhaps in someplace new that would be possible.

  He shrugged. “We’re headin’ back in about three days. I’m Howard Cox.” He turned and nudged the man next to him. “Look smart, you two. This here nice lady is thinkin’ on goin’ back with us.” The two men turned and looked her over appreciatively, both grinning. “This here is Case Dressel,” Cox told her, nodding to a blond man of perhaps thirty. The man flashed her a handsome smile. “Now Case here, he could use someone to wash and mend and such. Lost his wife about four years back.”

  Emily frowned. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he answered.

  Cox turned to the third man, who was tall and looked weathered and worn. His hair was red but graying, his brown eyes rather hollow. “This is Milton McBride. He owns quite a bit of land in Viesca, has a wife and four sons.”

  McBride nodded and Emily smiled. “I am thinking of going to Texas,” she told the man. “I can take in wash, mending. Perhaps your wife would need help.”

  “Possible,” he answered curtly.

  Emily turned her eyes back to Howard Cox’s round, bearded face. “My name is Emily, Emily Stephens,” she lied, afraid to use her real name in case someone had heard it. “I can pay you to take me back with you. I would need protection, and you all look like reputable gentlemen. Surely men brave enough to settle in a place like Texas are also reliable men who can be trusted.”

  Cox beamed. “Yes, ma’am. There are certain things you would need. Do you have a horse of your own?”

  “No. But I can get one. I don’t have much to take along. I’ll get a packhorse for my belongings. Would that be too much?”

  “No, ma’am. That would be fine. We have horses of our own to take back. We’ll go by boat through the Gulf and men to the Brazos.”

  “Are there many others going with you?”

  “A few. Most will wait to sell their land or businesses and all first. It’s a big decision, ma’am. Maybe you’d best wait and do some thinkin’ on it yourself.”

  “No, I don’t have to wait. I already know what I want to do, and here are three men who could accompany me. I don’t want to pass up the opportunity. When should I meet you, and where?”

  “Well, this is Tuesday. Meet us right here Friday mornin’. Bring your belongin’s, your horses and money. We won’t charge you ourselves, but you’ll have to pay your own passage.”

  “I can do that.”

  He smiled, lifting his hat a little. “Well then, we’ll see you on Friday. Once you see how pretty Texas is, Mrs. Stephens, you’ll be glad you went. It kind of grows on a person. You get there and you just don’t want to leave again” He winked. “And those people your husband owed won’t bother you there. If they do, we’ll turn them over to the Comanche.” He laughed, a deep laugh that made his stomach shake.

  Emily smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Cox.”

  “You need any help getting your things together, ma’am?” Case Dressel asked.

  She met his eyes, and felt stirred by his fine physique. But she was determined she would never betray her past life if she went to Texas. She would conduct herself properly and maybe even find a husband.

  “No,” she replied quickly. How could she take him to Marie’s place and show him where she had been living? “No, I can take care of everything.”

  “Those people you owe
won’t give you any trouble, will they?” Cox asked.

  “I don’t think so.” She backed away, keeping the shawl over her face. “Thank you, all of you. When I heard you talking you just made Texas sound so wonderful. I hope I can help somehow when I get there. I… I have a good education, too. I could teach children, if such things are needed.”

  Cox grinned more. “Why, that would be a welcome help indeed, ma’am. We surely do need fine women like yourself.”

  She nodded, then turned and disappeared into the crowd, finding it difficult not to break into a run. Texas. Perhaps something about her dreary, sordid life would change. Perhaps it was not too late after all to be someone special. She thought about Caleb, how he had tried to get her to change her life so long ago and how hopeless she thought it was to try. Now she would do it.

  She would be a different person, Emily Stephens, widowed and homeless. She was going to Texas.

  Sarah opened the door, surprised at the sight of Byron Clawson. In the years he had been back in Saint Louis, he had never set foot on her doorstep, and she had not heard from him since her visit to his office. He looked frightened, and he stood there holding a newspaper tightly in his hand.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked calmly. “I told you never to bother me.”

  He held out the newspaper with a shaking hand, his lips ending when he spoke. “Have you seen this?”

  She frowned. “No. Why?”

  “You little liar. You thought I wouldn’t notice. You thought you’d just sneak off to him and arrange for him to come kill me.”

  She shook her head. “Byron, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I wish you would leave.”

  He studied her green eyes. “You really haven’t seen it yet, have you?”

  She glanced at the paper he held under her nose, a shiver coursing down her spine. “If it’s today’s, no, I haven’t.”

  “Well, you’d know soon enough. You might as well hear it from—” He looked past her at a tall, beautiful young woman who came down the stairs to stand behind Sarah. “Is that the girl? Your daughter?”

  Sarah turned, and Byron barged into the house, pulling the door from Sarah’s hand and slamming it shut. Sarah stepped back as his eyes took inventory of Lynda.

  “Yes,” Sarah answered quietly. She turned to Lynda. “Lynda, this is Byron Clawson, the man who so kindly gave you away to an orphanage.”

  Byron reddened, and Lynda’s blue eyes instantly took on the cold look Byron had once seen in her father’s eyes. “Oh, yes, she is every bit his daughter, isn’t she?” Byron sneered. “Caleb Sax’s women. How sweet.” He unrolled the newspaper and held it out. “I wonder how many more women he’s got—in Texas.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened as she took the paper with a shaking hand.

  “Here,” Byron said coldly, pointing to an article on the front page.

  Sarah looked at the article, still bewildered. Lynda stepped closer to her as she quietly scanned the paper. Byron took a cigar from his pocket and lit it as Sarah read. He scanned Lynda appreciatively, but she was Caleb Sax’s daughter and that made her loathsome. He should have had her killed. Seeing her gave him chills.

  “Oh, my God,” Sarah finally murmured. She began to shake and Lynda quickly put an arm about her waist.

  “Mother, what is it?”

  Sarah closed her eyes, holding the paper tightly in her hands, momentarily speechless.

  “Mother, come and sit down. You’re shaking,” Lynda told her, urging Sarah to a chair in the entranceway. She glared at Byron. “What have you done to upset my mother?” she demanded.

  Byron kept his cigar between his teeth and grabbed the paper from Sarah’s hands. “Here. Let me read part of this article to you. It seems some delegates from Texas have come to Saint Louis to encourage people to go back with them. The Americans want bigger numbers, more rights in Mexico, and they need help and strength in fighting Indians and outlaws.” He took the cigar from his mouth and held it between his fingers, scanning through the article. “Well, that isn’t important. What is important is that some names are mentioned. One of the delegates is a Mr. Tom Sax.” His steely gray eyes meet Lynda’s blue ones. “Son of one of the biggest landowners in the American settlement of San Felipe de Austin, a man who is known for his quality horses, Mr. Caleb Sax.”

  He watched Lynda pale. The girl pressed her hands tightly on Sarah’s shoulders. “My father?” she asked.

  Byron threw the newspaper to the floor. “I’m afraid it must be. The article says something about the Saxes being part Indian.” He threw his cigar into the fireplace and suddenly grabbed Sarah’s wrist, jerking her out of the chair and close to his face.

  “Leave her alone,” Lynda told him, grabbing Sarah’s arm. He shoved her hard, knocking her against a wall.

  “You’ll find out, won’t you?” he sneered. “And when you do, if this is the Caleb Sax you whored with all those years ago, you had better warn him to stay in Texas. You keep him away from me, understand?”

  Lynda ran past them into the parlor.

  “No one tells Caleb Sax what to do,” Sarah answered. “Not even his women.”

  “I should kill you,” he hissed. “He already thinks you’re dead.”

  “Get out,” Lynda screamed. Byron turned to see her pointing a pistol at him, the gun Sarah always kept for protection. “Get out before I kill you myself!”

  He saw in her eyes the wild, vengeful look he had seen once in Caleb’s eyes. She meant business. He let go of Sarah, shoving her as he did so.

  “You get out of here right now or there will be more headlines in the papers about Byron Clawson’s sordid life and violent death.” Lynda held the gun straight and steady, her blue eyes filled with bitter hatred.

  Sarah clung to the arm of the chair, staring at the girl with alarm. “Lynda, put the gun down,” she pleaded.

  “Not until he’s gone,” Lynda answered firmly.

  Byron backed toward the door. He glanced at Sarah again. “You remember what I said. As long as Caleb Sax stays in Texas, he’s safe. Perhaps you should go to him and—”

  “And get out of Saint Louis so you don’t have to worry about her marring your good name?” Lynda sneered. “I don’t know my father, Mr. Clawson, but I know enough about him to know you’re the one who might not be safe. You’re trying to scare us, but you’re the one who’s scared. You’re a coward—a lying, cheating, repulsive excuse of a man. Now get out of my mother’s house!”

  Byron blinked. “Bastard,” he hissed. “You illegitimate little whore!”

  Lynda deliberately fired, hitting the door only inches from Byron’s face. The man immediately whirled and flew out the door. Lynda hurried over to it to see him running down the street. She looked down at the gun, staring as though surprised it was even in her hand, then turned to her mother, who just looked at her in shock.

  “Lynda,” Sarah finally muttered. “You might have killed him!”

  The girl swallowed and quickly set the pistol aside. “I hate him,” she muttered, staring at the gun. “Now that I’ve seen him I hate him even more.” She looked back at her mother. “And I’m not afraid of him. Neither should you be, mother. Especially not now. Not if Caleb Sax is alive. Even if he’s married or something, he’d help you if that man gave you trouble. I know he would.”

  Sarah’s eyes began to tear, and she sank into the chair, her legs suddenly weak. “Lynda, do you… do you think it could really be my Caleb?” she asked in a whisper.

  Lynda smiled at the way her mother spoke as though Caleb Sax was a very precious object to be treasured. She bent down and picked up the newspaper, reading the article quietly, then meeting Sarah’s eyes again. They were shining with love and hope, mixed with fear and apprehension.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Lynda told her. “We have to go and talk to Tom Sax.”

  Tears slipped from Sarah’s eyes. “But what if—what if Caleb is married and has other children?” She wiped her t
ears with shaking hands. “Oh, Lynda, I can’t just walk back into his life, not if he’s found someone else. And yet he should know I’m alive. What should I do?”

  Her heart pounded wildly with hope and dread, dread that if it really was her Caleb there would be no way they could be together again. She had tried so long to find him, and now without warning, after giving up her own efforts, he was back in her life again. She had struggled so long to get over him. Now it was all reawakened, and the pain was almost unbearable.

  “Mother, we have to know. Remarried or not, I intend to find my father. We’re going to see Tom Sax.”

  “I can’t. I can’t go, Lynda. I’m afraid. I’m afraid he’ll tell us that it isn’t our Caleb or that he’s got a wife. Maybe he wouldn’t want me anymore.”

  “Oh, mother, don’t be silly.” The girl turned and went up the stairs. “I’m going to put on my prettiest dress and I’m going to the square where they’re having that meeting this afternoon. I’ll talk to Tom Sax and find out the truth.” She stopped halfway up the stairs, her heart getting even lighter. “Mother!” She turned. “Mother, if it’s true, then this Tom Sax would be my brother, wouldn’t he? You said Caleb had a son by a Cheyenne woman and named him Tom. That makes him my half brother.” She smiled and ran up the rest of the stairs. “It has to be the same one, Mother!”

  Sarah stared after the girl as she disappeared into her bedroom, babbling about maybe finding a whole family, about Texas and what it might be like, then laughing about how fast Byron Clawson had run away from the house. But Sarah heard little. There was a Caleb Sax living in Texas, a man who was part Indian and had a son named Tom. How could it be anyone but her Caleb?

  She had searched for so long, yet the possibility of finding him frightened her. What would he be like? What would he think of her now? Would he even want to see her? He would be like a stranger after all these years. Was it better to leave it alone and not pursue the matter? No! She had to know. And even if she was afraid to find out, Lynda would not let it go. She was a determined girl, determined and stubborn and free spirited like her father.