Frontier Lady (Lone Star Legacy Book #1)

by Judith Pella

  “Howdy, Deborah!” he said in his usual buoyant tone.

  “Good morning, Sam. Would it be possible for me to speak with you … in private?”

  “Sure.” He turned to his companions. “You fellas don’t mind, do you?”

  Since they had to return to their duties, they did not protest. As Sam rose from his seat, however, he was met with several good-natured winks and meaningful chuckles. Deborah reddened slightly but Sam took it in his stride.

  With mock ire he said, “You blue-bellies better get about your own business before you end up on report!”

  General laughter followed Deborah and Sam out of the mess hall. Once outside Sam turned to Deborah apologetically.

  “I’m sorry ‘bout that, but you know how soldiers are.”

  “Yes, I suppose.” She paused with a wrinkled brow. “Are you sure that’s all it is, Sam? I mean, they don’t really think—”

  “Maybe some do,” he replied frankly. “Would it bother you if they did?”

  “It shouldn’t, I suppose, seeing that I’ve been the brunt of so many other rumors and gossip. But, Sam, you have a certain respectability that I am certain you must uphold—”

  His laughter cut her off. “Deborah, you ain’t concerned for my reputation, are you?” When she nodded, he went on emphatically. “Why, you couldn’t do anything but enhance whatever respect I have here!”

  “I doubt that, Sam. There are many who believe I am tainted because I married an Indian and have a half-breed child. I see their looks of disdain and hear their whispers.”

  “You know better than to pay heed to the talk of fools!” Sam exclaimed, all previous amusement fading. “I don’t think those things—you know that, don’t you?” But before she had a chance to reply, he rushed on. “Why, I’d consider it nothing less than an honor to … to—” Suddenly he stopped, stumbling over his words as he did so. He blushed, not so much at what he had said, but at what he had been about to say. He would take it as an honor to have her for his wife, but he had never meant to reveal this to her, nor to reveal that he had considered it before this moment. He tried to recover himself, but not too successfully. “It’s just that any man in his right mind would … well, Deborah, you are a fine woman, that’s all, and don’t you let them gossipmongers make you believe otherwise.”

  “That is kind of you to say,” she replied. “And, Sam, if I were ever to think of marriage again, I would think the same of a man like you. But I have lost so many people I love that I believe I will not soon take the risk of loving another.”

  As they walked, Sam slowed to a stop. When Deborah drew up beside him, he gazed deeply into her eyes. His voice as he spoke was solemn, conveying far more meaning than his simple words. “I understand, Deborah, I truly do.”

  Deborah felt that he wanted to say more, but he did not. In a moment, after a final poignant glance at her, he started walking again. They continued in silence, neither feeling uncomfortable or awkward, but each with a need to allow stirred emotions to settle before venturing to speak again.

  Sam, always willing to forge ahead, to take risks, broke the silence. “You wanted to see me about something in particular, didn’t you?”

  “Yes … but to tell the truth, I wonder if it would be appropriate now.”

  “Ain’t no way to know except to lay it out to me.”

  “Sam, today I received a reply to my telegram to my family lawyer, Raymond Stillwell.” She handed him the paper and he quickly scanned the sheet. “I know it’s cryptic,” she continued, “but I believe he understands my situation. And, more importantly, I still have the property in Virginia. So, now it is time to send something more specific.”

  “Deborah, I’m curious about something. Maybe I already know the answer, but I suppose I’d like to hear it from you. Now that you know you got a home in Virginia, wouldn’t you rather go back there?”

  She replied without hesitation, “I would no more fit in back there than you would with your old Texas Ranger company. This is where I belong. I love this country, and I want my son to grow up in the land his father loved and died for. I let grief and despair force me from my home once before, and it was a mistake. I won’t do that again. This is my home now. Virginia is a million miles away and at least that many lifetimes removed. Besides, if I took up residence again in Virginia, there is no way Caleb Stoner would not hear of it. I can never forget that I am still a fugitive.”

  “Do you plan on being a fugitive forever?”

  “I see no way around it.”

  Sam opened his mouth as if to speak, then clamped it shut again, remaining silent but thoughtful.

  Deborah gave him a slight smile. “Thank you, Sam.”

  “For what?”

  “Ever since we first met in Griff’s hideout, you have never asked me if I killed Leonard.”

  “I never had to ask. You’re no killer.”

  “It’s all so complicated,” she replied with some of her old pain creeping into her voice. “Sometimes I’m not even certain what happened that awful day.”

  “Do you want to talk about it, Deborah?”

  She shook her head. “Perhaps I’m just afraid to get to the truth.”

  “If you ain’t ready to talk about it, Deborah, I ain’t gonna force you. Whenever you feel of a mind too, though, I just want you to know I’m here for you. And you know, if you’d like I could always ride on down there and poke around a mite and see what I can uncover—”

  “Please, Sam,” she put in quickly, a hint of panic in her eyes, “don’t do that. If anyone tries to stir it up now, I don’t want to even think of what Caleb might do. He could trace you to me; then he would have me executed before anyone could uncover the truth. Then he’d take Carolyn and … I hate to even think what he would do with Sky. I would rather be a fugitive than risk that. And what if … what if—” She stopped, visibly shaken as visions of her dreams and nightmares of that terrible time flashed through her distraught mind.

  She began again with a heavy sigh. “I just don’t think I could handle stirring everything back up, Sam. All I want right now is some peace. I know I have the peace of God, but I want to feel settled. I want some security for my children. Maybe later, but for now I’d like to forget all about that time.”

  “Whatever you say, but I am available if you need me.”

  “Thank you. And I do need a favor from you now, Sam.”

  “Anything.”

  “I must send a telegram to Mr. Stillwell, but it can’t be from here, where it seems all my affairs are common knowledge. I can no longer speak in cryptic phrases to him. I had hoped that you could take a message to Fort Larned and send it from there. It would also involve awaiting a reply. And then—” She stopped suddenly and sighed. “Oh, Sam, who am I kidding? By the time I do all that, Mr. Farley will be long gone.”

  “There will be other land,” said Sam. “And next time, you’ll be ready. But even if it doesn’t work out this time, it don’t mean you shouldn’t give it a try. You never know what God’ll do unless you give Him a chance.”

  Deborah smiled at his encouraging words. She could hardly believe there had once been a time when she did not trust Sam Killion.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Sam went on with growing enthusiasm, “when I get that reply, if it’s favorable, I can head right up to Abilene and try to catch Farley and see if he’s still looking for a buyer.”

  “It seems impossible,” said Deborah. “There must be hundreds of cattlemen in Abilene looking for land. And even if you do find Farley and he is still selling his land, you still won’t have the money. It would take months for Stillwell to sell my property and forward the money to me.”

  “There just ain’t no telling what God can do, Deborah. I’m game to try.”

  “Oh, Sam! What would I do without you?”

  “I think you’d do just fine.” And there was a tinge of regret in his tone, for part of him dearly wanted her to need him.

  61

  In 1867, A
bilene had been a sleepy, dirty village consisting of a dozen dirt-roofed log huts and a saloonkeeper so bored and broke that he sold prairie dogs, present in greater abundance than people, to eastern tourists. But in the summer of that year an enterprising fellow named Joseph G. McCoy chose the town as the rail connection between the Texas cattle range and growing eastern markets.

  Thus, by the fall of 1869, a far different town greeted Sam Killion as he rode through the narrow streets clogged with billowing clouds of dust and traffic and knots of unruly, loud, and troublesome cowboys. Over a hundred fifty thousand head of cattle would pass through town that season leaving more of a mark than mere hoof-prints.

  On every hand were saloons and dance halls, with the brassy strains of lurid music pouring from their doors, punctuated by stray gunfire and verbal obscenities. Several women with painted faces and revealing dresses called out to Sam as he passed, thinking him a cowboy in search of a good time after too many lonely, dangerous months on the trail. Sam politely declined their various offers, instead inviting them to a meeting he planned to have the following day. He had come to Abilene on business for Deborah, but he saw no reason not to kill two birds with one stone, as it were. Here was a place crying out to be evangelized, and he was not a man to pass up such an opportunity.

  A week and a half ago, Sam had gone to Fort Larned and sent Deborah’s telegram. He waited three days before a reply came, but when it did arrive, he headed directly for Abilene. Despite his solid, unflinching faith in God, even he was astonished by the surprising response. Upon receipt of Deborah’s first telegram, Stillwell had prepared for the possibility of selling the estate. He not only already had a buyer for the property, but the papers were drawn up and signed, needing only Deborah’s signature to finalize the deal. He had sent out the papers that day in care of Deborah Graham at Fort Dodge, just in case. He explained the speed with which a buyer had been found; Stillwell himself wished to purchase the land if it was Deborah’s intent to sell. Having worked so hard to maintain it over the years, he had developed a fondness for it. He was offering five thousand dollars to buy Deborah out; and, though he admitted the land was worth more, so much of it had been mortgaged to pay for restoration after the war, and to pay exorbitant taxes levied by greedy carpetbaggers, that Stillwell would end up taking a loss if he gave more. From what Deborah had told him about what she expected to get out of the estate, Sam thought she would be most agreeable to Stillwell’s offer. Sam was beginning to sense, without a doubt, God’s hand in the entire matter.

  The only obstacle now to be overcome was finding Farley and convincing him to sell his own land on faith.

  Sam rode directly to the Drover’s Cottage, the main hotel in town patronized by cattlemen from both the West and East. It was packed that time of year, and dominating the milieu of bustling noise and activity was the sound of deals being concluded and fortunes made. As he walked through the door, Sam said a quick prayer that somehow in that impossibly chaotic mass, a Tennessean cattleman named Farley could be found.

  Sam’s patience was sorely tried that day and the next, for he could locate Farley nowhere. Several had heard of him, one eastern businessman had purchased half his herd, but none knew where Farley was or if he was still in town. The next evening Sam went ahead with his church service, held in a saloon belonging to an acquaintance of Sam’s who was willing to suspend the sale of whiskey for an hour for the sake of friendship and a debt he owed Sam.

  As Killion preached, he scanned his audience for the face of the scruffy Tennessean Deborah had described in detail, but to no avail. The next day he was prevailed upon to officiate at three marriages and four funerals. He could have stayed busy for days at this work; it had been months since a cleric had last been through town. Not until the final wedding ceremony, four days after his arrival in Abilene, did Sam finally spot Farley. Apparently the ex-cattle rancher had been pining away after his own wife, and wandered into the hotel where the wedding ceremony was being held, seeking consolation in the marital bliss of others.

  Moments after Sam pronounced the couple man and wife, he pounced upon Farley.

  “Hey!” said Sam. “Ain’t you Calvin Farley from Tennessee?”

  “That’s right. Do I know you?”

  “No, but I heard all about you in Fort Dodge. You had some land for sale, didn’t you?”

  “Yup.”

  “Is it still for sale?”

  “I’m gonna meet with a fella in an hour to close the deal. He’s offering me half what it’s worth, but I can’t wait no longer.”

  “I’m surprised you ain’t sold it by now.”

  “I been laid up for days with this here head of mine.” For the first time, Sam noticed a bandage under Farley’s hat.

  “What happened?”

  “Got robbed a week or so ago in an alley here in town. Luckily I weren’t carrying anything valuable, but they laid me on my back for days. If’n I don’t get to Tennessee soon, I ain’t ever gonna make it.”

  “Did the law catch the robbers?”

  “Naw, not with my luck the way it’s been. And now I’m still gonna lose my shirt with my land.”

  “Maybe it’ll work to your advantage that you were forced to stick around here, ‘cause I’d like to make you an offer.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’m speaking on behalf of an interested party in Fort Dodge.”

  “Oh yeah? When I was there, there wasn’t no one even close to interested, except that white squaw woman.” When Sam nodded, Farley’s eyes widened. “You mean you’re speakin’ for her?”

  “Yep, and she is prepared to pay you three hundred dollars.”

  “That’s a hundred dollars more’n I even asked.” Farley’s eyes narrowed as he searched Sam’s face for some larcenous motives. “You being a preacher an’ all, you wouldn’t be thinkin’ of pulling something on me, now would you?”

  “No, but there is a catch to the deal.”

  “I figgered as much. What is it?”

  “Mrs. Graham has no ready cash. But she’ll soon come into some money. For an extra hundred dollars all you have to do is trust her for the money. I think it can be very simply arranged for you to pick up the money from her lawyer in Virginia, which ain’t far from Tennessee, if I recall my geography correctly.”

  “She’s a mighty determined woman, ain’t she?” said Farley.

  Sam smiled and nodded.

  “Well,” Farley continued, “I know’d this was craziness right from the beginning, but I couldn’t help admirin’ that there woman. Even though she lived with Injuns, you just couldn’t keep from liking her. And I ‘spect it’s been pretty rough for her and all, and I’d like to do her a good turn—”

  “But … ?” prompted Killion.

  “I’d not only have to trust her, but I got to trust you, too. I mean you’re a preacher, leastways it appears that way, but I don’t know you from Adam—”

  “Where you been, fella?” put in a man from a nearby table in the still-crowded hotel who had caught a bit of the conversation. “Why, this here’s Sam Killion, Texas Ranger turned preacher! Fastest, surest shot in all of Texas.”

  “That true?” said Farley with renewed interest. “You’re a Texas Ranger?”

  “Used to be,” answered Sam.

  “You know, it was Rangers that saved my family from Indians a few months back.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, but I wasn’t a Ranger then.”

  “Still, I owe the Rangers a lot and would feel it a matter of honor to trust ’em.”

  Sam smiled inwardly at the irony that this man felt safer trusting a Texas Ranger than a preacher. But since he saw no use in debating the matter, Sam made no further comment. He sensed intuitively God’s hand in this, for only God could use for good that time in Sam’s life that he himself had renounced as violent and godless.

  “Does that mean you’re willing to strike a deal?” asked Sam cautiously.

  “Like I told that squaw woman, I’m just
as loony as her. But I’ll be switched if I ain’t gonna do it!”

  An arrangement was made whereby Deborah would send a letter to Raymond Stillwell instructing him to send the money to Farley in Tennessee at an address he gave Sam. Upon receipt of the money, Farley would send the property title to Deborah. Sam and Farley shook hands on the deal, and the look in each man’s face indicated clearly that they both fully comprehended the solemnity of the gesture. Farley was so pleased afterward that he ordered drinks for everyone. Sam had coffee, but was no less pleased with how everything had turned out.

  62

  Deborah had her land. Though it would take weeks, maybe months, before all the transactions were completed and that all-important deed arrived, it was still something to rejoice over. A self-satisfied grin spread across Sam’s face as he leaned back in his chair in the Drover’s Cottage sipping his coffee.

  By Christmas Deborah could very well be in her own home, on her own land—five thousand acres, no less! She’d be free to ride to her heart’s content, traversing miles before she came to the end of it.

  By Christmas … three short months …

  But all at once Sam realized what this would mean for him! Deborah would be leaving Fort Dodge, leaving Kansas, going several hundred miles away. Away from him! He had been so intent on encouraging her to do what would make her happy and what would be God’s will, he had forgotten to take into account his own happiness. He tried to console himself with the fact that God surely had not forgotten about him. It might well be that this separation had somehow been orchestrated to benefit them both. Only last week, she told him she would not marry again. Perhaps God was going to use this move to spare him the torture of being around her, knowing their relationship could never progress beyond friendship. Maybe—

  But a voice interrupted Sam’s thoughts.

  “Seems to me that land was selling for two hundred dollars a few weeks back,” it said in a none-too-friendly tone.