Outside, Tom waited with the horses on a small, flat stretch of ground several yards in the distance. His heart pounded with anxiety. What had gone wrong? They should be out and running for the horses by now. Minutes seemed like hours, and his whole body felt numb with anxiety. Should he go after Caleb? He was just as able a fighter as his father and Lee. They had all fought together to protect the ranch many times over. He had killed his share of men. He could kill a few Comanche.
When a dark figure finally approached him, Tom ducked into the shadows until he could clearly see that it was Caleb carrying a quietly crying John. A chill moved down Tom’s spine. Caleb plunked John onto Lee’s horse and quickly mounted his own. “Let’s go! There’s no time to waste.”
“Where’s Lee?” Tom asked.
“Dead,” Caleb said flatly. “Let’s get going. I’ll explain later.”
He rode off, leading John on Lee’s horse and leaving no time for more questions.
A horrible sorrow swept through Tom. Lee dead! It couldn’t be. Not Lee. Not big, strong, strapping Lee. He wanted to go back for the body—something, anything. But he knew without asking that there was no time, and a dead body would slow them down. He mounted his horse and headed carefully up the rocky pathway. Riding away was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.
Lee! They were leaving Lee behind.
Chapter
Four
* * *
The Handels’ wagon lumbered into San Felipe with Sarah and the baby riding in the soft hay in the back. It was a bright, sunny day, and Sarah was glad she had decided to come to town. She needed to get out, to do something that would help ease her worry over Caleb. In the light of day those worries lessened, but deep in the night her chest pained her with anxiety.
Would they ever come back? For the last two days, she had been especially anxious, sensing something had gone wrong. But there was only one way to find out and that was for Caleb to return. The waiting was excruciating for Sarah, as it was for Lynda. She wished she could have convinced her daughter to come to town with her, but Lynda had insisted on staying behind, always hoping Lee and her father and brother would show up any time.
Sarah noticed more people than usual milling about town as they approached. She had heard that San Felipe, the town Stephen Austin had built with dreams of a grand American settlement, had turned into headquarters for talk of Texas independence. Wil Handel halted his wagon near a crowd of men who stood listening to a speaker, a tall man with a full build and a commanding voice. He was warning those present that they must be calm and not act rashly if they wanted to save both their lives and Texas.
Despite the man’s admonition, the crowd was rowdy and angry. Sarah held James closer to her as shouting filled her ears.
“Kill Santa Anna and get somebody else in there,” someone shouted. Others agreed, shaking their fists.
“What is going on?” stout old Wil Handel asked in his heavy accent. A man nearby frowned.
“What’s that you say?”
“What is going on? Who are these people—and who is that man?”
“Mister, that’s Sam Houston, a former U.S. Congressman and a great friend of Andrew Jackson. He’s here to investigate our problems and help us.”
“Sam Houston. I never hear of this man,” Wil answered, waving his arm.
“That’s because you’re from over the water. Hell, everybody has heard of Sam Houston. He even lived with the Cherokee awhile. Him and Jackson went at it over kicking the Cherokee out of Georgia. But I guess we can forgive his Indian sentiment if he thinks he can help us Texans now.”
The remark hurt, but Sarah took hope. She watched Sam Houston. He stood tall, spoke well. She felt relieved that he was a friend to the Indians. Perhaps her vague fears about many Southerners and Indian haters coming to Texas would be unfounded if men like Houston were going to be in charge.
“Where is Mister Austin?” she asked. “Why is this Mister Houston talking to these people, and why are they so angry?”
“You haven’t heard?” The man screwed up his face in anger. “Austin went down to Santa Anna to talk peace and tell him our grievances, and Santa Anna arrested him! He’s in prison in Mexico City. We want to go after him.”
Sarah looked up at Mildred Handel, her heart pounding. No one could be more loyal to Texas and to the promises he’d made to the Mexicans than Austin. How could this Santa Anna do such a thing? Why was there never any peace? She didn’t even know if her husband was dead or alive, and here these men were talking about rising up against Mexico.
Wil moved the wagon farther down the street, fuming in German mutterings. “We will lose all that we have built up, Millie,” he said, shaking his head.
“It will not be all that bad. We have been through so much. We will get through this.”
The man sighed and shook his head, pulling up in front of a general delivery store. Wil took the baby from Sarah and handed him to Mildred, then helped Sarah down. “Easy now, Mrs. Sax,” he told her. “A little walk to the clothing store, then back here to the wagon. I’ll be right inside the delivery store. Give me your list of supplies.”
Sarah fumbled in her handbag. “You’re too kind, Wil. I only hope we’ll be going home soon and I’ll be sharing these things with Caleb.” She handed Wil the list.
Wil Handel was as stern as his wife but he smiled for Sarah, who he thought was a most beautiful woman. He missed Germany and his friends there, but it was good to have neighbors and make new friends. He was glad he had come to Texas, which he considered a great and wild land.
“Not to worry,” he told her. “You will need all these things, and the next time you come to town, Caleb will bring you.” He gave her a wink and turned, walking inside the supply store while some of his men watched the wagon. Sarah and Mildred walked two doors down to a small women’s apparel store. Such stores were a luxury in a place like San Felipe, which was a small, dusty town. Still, a trip to town was a welcome break from the lonely ranches, even if it was such a far cry from the city of St. Louis where Sarah had been raised. It was raw and rugged, and one of the last towns to get the latest fashions, if it ever got them at all. People in Texas cared only about the basic necessities for survival.
But that didn’t matter to Sarah. She had come to Texas to be with Caleb. Who cared about the latest fashions? She went inside the store fully aware that all she would find were outdated clothes. She wouldn’t buy anything readymade. She had been a seamstress in St. Louis, and had done very well. She would pick out some pretty material and make her own dress, according to what the fashion had been when last she left St. Louis.
“I don’t really need anything here,” Mildred told Sarah after they’d been in the store only a minute. “I’m going back to the supply store. I forgot some things from my list, and I can help my Wil find some of the things you wanted there. You just take your time here and enjoy yourself, Sarah,” the woman told her, patting her arm.
“Thank you so much, Mildred.”
“For a friend, we help,” the woman said warmly.
The woman left, and Sarah moved to look through a shelf of material, trying to ignore the shouts of war outside.
“Here, it’s in here, Howard,” a woman said then, hurrying through the doorway.
Sarah turned to see the woman rush inside, accompanied by a burly, aging, bearded man in buckskins. He was a big man and he followed the woman as though he worshipped her every step. Considering the woman’s tiny build, he made an amusing picture, hovering over the woman as she browsed through some material. She wore a plain gray dress and a black, lacy scarf covered her blonde hair. One side of her veil was pulled forward as though to hide something. It struck something familiar in Sarah’s memory, and it all came into focus when the woman turned and came to the shelf where Sarah stood. She stopped still, suddenly paling when her eyes met Sarah’s.
Sarah felt shock move through her own bones, and she scrambled to think. It was Emily Stoner! She knew Emily as
a child at Fort Dearborn. Emily had been the daughter of a cruel preacher, and had turned to prostitution at a young age. The last Sarah knew, Emily was working at a house of prostitution in New Orleans. Sarah had discovered the truth when Emily came to visit her in St. Louis to tell her Caleb Sax was still alive, for it was Emily herself who had nursed him back from paralysis after Byron Clawson shot him. What on earth was Emily Stoner doing in San Felipe?
On seeing Sarah, Emily turned away abruptly, as though she wanted to hide. “Howard, you don’t need to wait in this place for me. Go ahead and get those supplies you need for the shop.”
The man with her looked around the store, where only women browsed, and appeared relieved at the suggestion. “Sure, honey. You wait right here for me, though. I’ll come back for you. I don’t want you walking around alone out there.”
He patted her shoulder and left, while Sarah watched in astonishment. Honey? He didn’t want her walking alone? Emily Stoner had been a prostitute in New Orleans! Why was he so concerned? It dawned on Sarah then that the man surely didn’t know about Emily’s past. Her mind raced with confusion as Emily turned back to face her.
“Well, they say here in Texas you never know who you’ll run into.” Her eyes softened and actually teared. “You are Sarah Sax, aren’t you?”
Sarah managed to find her voice. “Emily Stoner?”
The woman held out her left hand, showing off a wedding band. “Emily Cox. Mrs. Emily Cox.”
Sarah just blinked, and Emily smiled, then suddenly gave her a quick hug. “Oh, Sarah, I saw you and I knew I had to explain before you met Howard. But that’s beside the point at the moment. What in God’s name are you doing in Texas!” She pulled away. “The last time I saw you, you were in St. Louis, searching for Caleb.” She pulled back, more tears in her eyes.
Sarah could not help being astounded at the change in the woman. She dressed plainly and wore no makeup. She was a married woman! “I … I found Caleb,” she answered. “It’s such a long story—”
“You found him? My God! Is Caleb here—in San Felipe?”
“Yes. He has a ranch northwest of here. Tom is with him. And we’ve found our daughter, and—”
Emily looked down at the baby in Sarah’s arms. “Sarah! Is he yours? Yours and Caleb’s?”
“Yes. This is James. I only came here a year ago. Caleb’s son Tom went to St. Louis to recruit people to come to Texas. We saw an article about it in the paper and discovered that Caleb was here, a widower. Tom brought us here.”
Emily put up her hands. “Wait! You’re confusing me. This is all so wonderful! What’s this about a daughter?”
“The baby I had by Caleb when I was eighteen. She didn’t die. She lived and I found her, Emily. Her name is Lynda, and she’s with us here in Texas, married to a Cherokee man.”
Emily put her hands to her cheeks, shaking her head. “Whoever would have thought I’d fine you, of all people, here in Texas, or that you and Caleb would find each other!”
“I could say the same for you, Emily. I thought you were in New Orleans.”
The woman laughed, a ring of the old, hard Emily in her voice. “Oh, Sarah, we have so much to talk about. I met Howard in New Orleans. He was also recruiting people to come here. I was so tired of the life I was leading. I thought, maybe if I came here, someplace brand new, I could somehow get away from it.” She adjusted the black lace shawl, making sure it covered the ugly scar on her face left years ago by a Potawatomi Indian who had captured her, one of the Indians who had killed Sarah’s uncle, Tom Sax. Emily would have been a beautiful woman if not for the scar—and a proper lady, if not for her cruel father and for the emotional scars left from being a captive of the Indians.
“I fell in love with Howard right away,” she went on. “But I’ve never told him about—you know.” She reddened slightly. “He’s such a big sweetie, Sarah. I told him I was widowed in New Orleans.” She looked back at the door. “I’ll have to introduce you. He’ll be back any minute. Please go along with whatever I tell him.”
Sarah let out a little gasp of confusion. “Of course. And I’m—I’m so happy for you, Emily. A husband! You seemed so unhappy all those years ago when I saw you. Now you look wonderful.”
“I am! And look at you! You were a pretty unhappy woman yourself, you know. At least I was able to tell you Caleb was still alive.” She sucked in her breath, her eyes taking on a nostalgic look. “Caleb! Oh, how I’d love to see him again. How is he, Sarah?”
“He’s fine, and as handsome as ever. He has quite a large ranch and does well. But right now, I can only hope he’s still all right. He’s been gone three weeks. Our ranch was raided by Comanche and they stole a son he had by his Cherokee wife. Caleb went after the boy—Caleb, Tom, and a Cherokee son-in-law.”
Emily’s face clouded. “Caleb went after Comanche?”
“Yes.” Sarah held James closer. “The waiting has been terrible.”
“Of course!” She put her hands on Sarah’s arms. “But remember who he is, Sarah. He’s Blue Hawk, at least while he’s out there he is. He’ll be fine, I’m sure. My goodness, the Lord surely didn’t bring you back together just to let something happen to one of you now.” She smiled again. “And just think, you found your daughter and Caleb. And now you have a new baby! Oh, how I’d love to see Caleb again. When he gets back you must both come and see us. Howard and I live up the street in a little log house. Howard is a blacksmith. We tried farming, up around Viesca. But it’s so remote there, and I was too afraid of the Indians.” The fear old memories brought moved through the woman’s eyes. “I have enough scars from the Potawatomie. I don’t care to find out how the Comanche treat a captive. Howard understands. He’s so good to me, Sarah. So good. I only hope something from the past won’t come up to make him hate me. I’m so happy now.”
Sarah smiled. “I can see that. And we will come see you, Emily. I’ll explain to Caleb. He won’t say anything about your past. Oh, he’ll be so surprised, Emily, and so happy to see you. My God, you saved his life all those years ago. If not for you … We owe you so much, Emily.”
“Nonsense. No one owes me. I’m just glad it turned out the way it did. Imagine! You, me, Caleb—all right here in Texas. What a crazy, wild place this is, isn’t it? And all this talk of war! I swear, wherever I go, there’s a war. Down in New Orleans it was the war with the British—all those volunteers marching through the streets, including Caleb.” An odd pain moved through Emily’s eyes. How she had loved Caleb herself once. But she was not the woman for him.
The door opened and Howard Cox walked in. “Emmy, they don’t have what I need.” He stopped and removed his hat. “Oh, excuse me, ma’am. I didn’t realize you and my Emmy was talkin’.”
Sarah looked up at him and smiled. “It’s all right, Mister Cox.” The man had kind eyes that bespoke a gentle good-hearted nature in spite of his tall, burly build. He smiled and reddened when Emily took his arm and squeezed it.
“Howard, this is Sarah Sax. I knew her at Fort Dearborn. Of course, we were just children then. Oh, it’s such a long story. I’ll explain it all sometime. Suffice to say her husband is Caleb Sax, a man we also knew at Fort Dearborn as a boy. A few years ago Caleb showed up at my doorstep, dying from terrible wounds. My first husband and I had no idea where he’d come from, but he needed help. So we took care of him ourselves, because I had known him as a child.” She talked easily about her “first husband,” making his existence sound so convincing that Sarah almost believed in him herself. Parts of Emily’s story didn’t really go together, but she talked fast, and Sarah suspected Howard Cox was not the kind of man who could put things together quickly in his mind. He was perfect for a woman who had something to hide. But it seemed to Sarah a dangerous game for Emily to be playing.
“Caleb got well, then left for parts unknown,” Emily continued. “I’ve never seen him again. And now here’s Sarah, in Texas! And come to find out, she’s married to Caleb! This is their new baby son.”
&nbs
p; Cox fingered his hat and grinned. “A fine-looking boy, ma’am. Is your husband about? I’d like to meet any man or woman who was friends with my Emmy.”
Emily patted his arm. “Indians raided their place, Howard. They stole a son Caleb had by a Cherokee wife. Caleb has gone to try to get the boy back.”
The man’s eyebrows arched. “He’s gone after Comanche?”
“Now, Howard, don’t make it sound so terrible. Sarah is worried enough as it is. But Caleb is part Indian. He can take care of himself. I’ll tell you all about him later. This is no place to talk.”
“Well, when your husband returns, you folks be sure to come and visit with us,” Howard told Sarah. “I’m glad Emmy run into you. Women friends are hard to come by out here. Seems to be a slight shortage of females.” The man laughed lightly and reddened again.
“Yes, I know what you mean,” Sarah answered. “At least I have an older daughter at home for companionship. You two will have to come and see us, too.”
“I’d like to do that sometime,” Cox answered. “But right now I’m awful busy, what with all these newcomers. Seems like San Felipe is growin’ like wildfire. And with talk of war and all, I can hardly keep up with the work.”
“I can understand that. Perhaps when Caleb returns we’ll come to town.”
“I’d like that. And I know Emmy would, too.”
His use of the name “Emmy” touched Sarah. He seemed to adore Emily absolutely. Sarah could see the hope in Emily’s eyes that the man would never find out the truth about her background.
Emily grasped Sarah’s arm. “Things will be good for you now, Sarah. I just know it. It’s so wonderful, running into you like this. Give Caleb my best.”
“I will. And I know things will be good for you, too, Emily. I’m so glad for you.”
The woman smiled. “God be with you all, Sarah.” She thanked Sarah with her eyes for not revealing anything. “If … if things don’t go well … you remember I’m here, will you?”
Sarah nodded. “I’ll remember.”
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