“Who cares now? They’re gone. Ain’t that what you wanted?”
“I want Caleb Sax dead. Dead! Do you hear? As long as he’s alive I can’t get a good night’s sleep. After this he’ll be after my hide more than ever. I don’t just want him out of Texas. I want his skin stretched out in the sun to dry.”
The man paced a moment, his heart racing. Caleb Sax had gotten away. The man could be anywhere! There was no doubting Caleb’s sincerity that day in San Felipe. Now that Byron Clawson was in Sax territory, he had left himself open for disaster. If he couldn’t find Caleb Sax, he might as well find some excuse to go back to St. Louis. Sunday. If they didn’t find him by Sunday, he’d leave. He liked his new power and importance here in Texas, but he valued his life more, and he’d be safer in St. Louis. Sunday was when the next boat was headed out of San Felipe for the Bay and New Orleans. Byron would be on it if Caleb wasn’t found by Sunday.
He looked toward the houses. “Burn every building.”
“But Mister Clawson, they’re good buildings. They make the place more valuable.”
“Burn them,” Byron shouted angrily. “Everything. And when we’re through with this mess you can ride onto my property and get rid of all the squatters. I’ll pay you men well to guard both this place and my own. I’m laying claim to all of it.” He puffed out his chest, calming himself. “Some day this land will be worth a fortune, especially if Texas becomes a state.” He looked at the two scouts. “Did Sax have any friends who might have helped him?”
“Not that we know of. The closest place is Wil Handel’s, but it’s toward town. Sax wouldn’t go that way.”
“You can never tell what Caleb Sax will do, just to try to trick you. Go burn the buildings and we’ll check out the Handel ranch.”
“Yes, sir.”
Byron waited in the distance. He didn’t like actually getting his hands involved in the real dirty work, other than the day he had helped Sarah’s father chase Caleb Sax out of St. Louis and took the liberty of shooting the man in the back.
The barn went first, for it was still full of hay. Byron watched smoke billow from each end, then break through the roof. Next went some bunkhouses and two cabins, then the main house. Smoke wafted upward, and it was not long before the buildings began falling in. The only Saxes there to watch were those buried on the hillside not far from the main house. Byron noticed a cloud far to the north. A storm was coming.
In Blue Valley it was already raining, and an eerie, moaning wind moved through that place, as though several people were weeping in a great chorus.
“Where is he, Handel?” Byron questioned the old German. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?”
It was raining hard now, and Wil Handel stood at his doorway, out of the downpour, gun in hand. “I told you, Tom Sax was here a couple of days ago to tell us they was leaving. He told me about what your men did. That was bad. The Saxes, they are gone, and we have lost our best friends.”
“You’ll lose more than that if you don’t tell me where they went,” Clawson threatened.
“I told you and told you. That Tom, he came to tell us good-bye because his father was badly hurt. He could not even move. Tom say they will head north, into Indian country. That was three days ago, sir. Now get off my land.”
“Not until we search this place!”
Handel wanted very much to pull the trigger. But there were too many of them. “Then go ahead. You will find nothing.”
Byron nodded his head and several men stormed into the house, muddying the floor with their boots while Mildred Handel scolded and shouted. A few men went to the barn. Straw covered a doorway in the floor that led to a cellar dug farther under the ground. It was a place to hide from Comanche, but these days such spaces became useful against squatters and people like those who investigated the Handel place now. Deep in the dirt cellar sat the entire Sax family; all but Caleb, who had left alone on a horse during the night. He had gone off alone to pray for the strength he would need to do what he must do. Sarah worried that he would not even be able to stay on his horse. Perhaps he was lying somewhere out on the plains needing help, cold and wet. The torture of not knowing was physically painful to her.
The Saxes heard booted feet pound over their heads, but due to the rain, the men above did not notice the hollow sound their steps made. Sarah could hear them talking. “Maybe we should beat Handel into telling us if he knows more,” one of them said.
“Maybe we should just burn his place down, too,” said another.
Sarah stared at the door above. “I’ve got to give myself up,” she whispered. “All Byron really wants is me. They’ll hurt Mister Handel!” She started to rise, but Tom grabbed her from behind, forcing her down and holding her tight, putting a hand over her mouth against her weeping.
“You stay put,” he whispered hoarsely. “If you give yourself up, they’ll kill us all. And you will, ruin Father’s plans for Clawson. They won’t really do anything to Handel. He’s white.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Caleb! All those men! He was going to get himself killed!
Tom lightened his grip and she covered her face and huddled close to him, shuddering as she heard Byron Clawson’s voice. It was all Tom could do to keep from charging up himself and killing the man, saving his father the trouble. But he knew there were too many others with Clawson. He would only risk all their lives.
“Is there anything here?” Clawson was asking the men.
“Nothing, sir.”
They prayed the men would not find the two loaded wagons, which were hidden under stacked bales of hay.
“We’ll get some answers out of Handel,” Byron said.
“I wouldn’t do that, sir. Handel is a respected Texas citizen, one of the first settlers. The government wouldn’t like that. You don’t want to jeopardize your own standing in the community.”
There was a moment of silence. “Yes, of course.”
“I would give it up, sir.”
“I told you I can’t trust Caleb Sax. The man has to die.”
Sarah cringed, and Jess held James closer when he started to whimper.
“They could be anywhere. If they’ve been gone as long as Handel says, it would take too many men to spread out across the plains to look for them. I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to risk my neck against Comanche no matter what you pay me. I’m sorry, sir.”
There were a few more footsteps. “Bastard,” Byron shouted then. “Bastard! How did he do it? Who warned him? I should have known better than to come to this stinking, uncivilized cow country!”
“Sir, you’re talkin’ about Texas,” someone answered. “I’ll kill Indians for you and rape any white squaw that lays with one, but I won’t tolerate you insultin’ Texas.”
“I’ll insult anything and anyone I want for what I pay you, you fool!” The footsteps thundered out of the barn then. After waiting a few minutes to be sure the men were gone, Tom let go of Sarah and climbed the ladder slowly to open the door. He saw men heading back to the Handel house. He signaled Jess to come up. They would watch from the barn. If it looked like Handel might be in real trouble, they would help in spite of the danger.
Jess followed him up and the women and children waited with pounding hearts. Handel’s men had returned just that morning with supplies from town. They would leave today if Byron and his men would just get going.
“It’s a good thing Caleb Sax isn’t here, Handel,” Byron told the man grudgingly.
“You’re a bad man, Mister Clawson,” Handel answered. “You got no right coming to my place and making a mess and saying I am hiding someone. I will tell the county about what you did. Texas was a good place till the likes of you came along.”
“I’ve come here to help Texas,” Byron answered impatiently, climbing into his buggy. “You people ought to be more grateful to ones like us who come here to loan you our hard earned money to help you get back on your feet.”
“You should have been here when we were
fighting Comanches and outlaws—when we were fighting Santa Anna. You should have been here in the beginning, Mister Clawson, when we struggled against drought and flood and disease. We will survive, Mister Clawson. We got along all right before you came. You are not what Texas is made of. Nor are these scoundrels who ride with you! They are scum, and you are scum! It is men like myself and Caleb Sax who built Texas. Men like you will come and go again. The real Texas is in the hearts of we who built it.”
Byron waved the man off and turned his carriage, whipping his horse into a trot. He and his men rode off, splattering through mud. Tom and Jess waited for several minutes before running over to the trapdoor and opening it.
“Come on out,” Jess told the women. He reached down, and Lynda handed up John. Jess took him and Tom helped both women climb out then. Cale and James climbed up with the agility of children. Wil and Mildred Handel were walking to the barn then.
“They are gone,” Wil shouted. “You’d better get the wagons ready to go, Tom.”
Tom and Jess began removing bales of hay from around the wagons. Sarah walked up and embraced Mildred Handel. “I’ll miss you so, Mildred.”
“And we will miss you, Sarah. You have been good neighbors. It will be so lonely without you. These new people, they are not like the rest of us. I feel so ashamed that you must go.”
“It’s not your fault, Mildred. You’ve been such good neighbors to us. What would we have done without you? God bless you, Mildred.”
The women pulled apart, both of them crying. “Ah, now you must leave. It is not right. Not right.” She shook her head. “This country is so good in many ways, but it has much to learn. They let us foreigners stay, and they chase away the true Americans. We do not understand this.”
“Caleb better be careful,” Wil spoke up then. “We will pray for him. I hope that he lets us know before he leaves so we will know he is all right.”
“I’m sure he’ll try,” Sarah told them.
There was a round of good-byes. There was no time to waste. It was all happening so fast. Wil Handel decided not to mention that Byron Clawson had told him he had burned down every building on the Sax ranch. Why add to their sorrows? They should remember it the way it was. Memories were all such people had.
Jess and Tom quickly hitched the wagons to teams led by their own horses. Luckily Byron and the men who had accompanied him were not familiar with Caleb’s horses, or they would have recognized the few that grazed in the nearby pastures, as well as those in the stalls in Wil’s barn which belonged to Caleb Sax. So far things had worked the way Caleb had hoped. The alibi had been set up. Caleb was supposedly well on his way north, and just as he had predicted, no one was willing to chase him down. He was gone, and that was all they cared about.
Sarah climbed into the seat of one wagon, holding baby John in her arms and pulling a poncho over both of them to protect them from the rain. Jess sat beside her and picked up the reins. James and Cale rode in the back, covering themselves and their belongings with a large piece of canvas. Lynda drove the second wagon and Tom saddled his horse, riding out to round up the few horses that would go along.
Rain mixed with their own tears as they headed north.
Sarah felt as though her heart was being torn from her chest. It was all over, and the only thing that would make this all bearable was when Caleb rejoined them.
The Handels waved until they were small dots on the horizon. James watched with silent tears. He would never see his colt again. It had run behind them for a ways until Tom chased it back. For the rest of his life James would not forget what it meant to be Indian.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
* * *
Emily lit a thin cigar, relieved that it was nearing eleven o’clock. Byron Clawson had come earlier than she had anticipated. Even a whore could take only so much, and the man’s fantasies seemed to have no end. She thought she knew all the ways there were to please a man, but Byron Clawson thought of things even Emily had never tried.
“So, you say this Sax fellow was gone,” she said, hoping to take a little break by striking up a conversation. Besides, she had to be sure everything was going as planned.
“The son of a bitch got away from me. I wish to hell I knew who informed him. I’d have his hide,” Byron fumed.
Emily smiled to herself, then turned to face Byron. He was such a pitiful sight, so thin and white—the most important part of him lying pink and limp between his legs. She puffed the cigar. “Well, maybe it was just a sixth sense. They say Indians have such things, you know.”
He grinned, motioning for her to come back to bed. He didn’t seem to mind her aging body or the scar on her face. She would do all the wild things he liked to do. That was all that mattered to him. She walked over and sat down beside him. He moved a hand up to toy with her breast.
“You ever lay with an Indian, Emily?” His eyes lit up with hideous curiosity.
She struggled to hide her revulsion of this pitiful specimen of man. She preferred turning her thoughts to Caleb. “Sure. A few times.”
“Who? When?”
She tossed back her hair. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard where I got this scar.”
“It’s true then? You were a captive of the Potawatomies?”
Her eyes narrowed. “It’s true.”
He only grinned. “Is that why you’re a whore?”
She struggled to keep from slapping him, taking another puff of the cigar. “Partly. It’s really none of your business, Byron. The point is I know how to show you a good time.”
He laughed, sitting up slightly and kissing her thighs. “Are Indians really bigger than white men?”
She got up from the bed. “All men are about the same.”
He flopped down on the bed. “That Sarah Sax—she was a bitch. I gave her baby a name and saved her reputation by marrying her, but she never knew how to please me. Damn! I wouldn’t have minded getting my hands on her one more time. I would tie her down and make her do every damned thing there is to do! She’d be sorry she laid with that big buck! She’s never known a day of luxury with that half-breed. I could have given her the world. All she had to do was to be a normal woman in bed. But she was cold as ice.”
Emily looked at the time. It was five minutes before eleven. She put out her cigar. “I can’t imagine how she could be that way with someone like you—a man with money, power, and so good in bed,” she answered, wanting to laugh. She turned to face him again, then sauntered closer. “What will you do now? Are you going after this Sax?”
“I’d like to, but no one will try to find him. These worthless ruffians around here are satisfied that he’s left. None of them is brave enough to go out looking for him.” He sighed. “I will be going back to St. Louis soon to hire someone to take care of my new bank here, and the land. I’m a little nervous with this Sax fellow loose.”
He sat up and reached over, picking up a bottle of whiskey and taking a long swallow. His eyes were becoming glazed with alcohol and desire. “I’m safer in St. Louis. At any rate, that’s why I came early tonight. I won’t see you again for a while, unless you’d like to come back to St. Louis with me. I could set you up very well, Emily.”
“That’s a generous offer, Byron, but I like my setup here too much to move.” She tried to keep the harshness from her voice. What a detestable man! She forced a smile, coming back to the bed. It was almost eleven. The last thing she wanted was for Caleb Sax to see her this way, but she reminded herself that she was helping him kill this depraved man.
She moved her hands over Clawson, toying expertly with that part of him that repulsed her the most. In moments he was laughing and panting. It seemed his ability to go on and on with these things was endless. She lay back, pretending to enjoy it when his own fingers explored her with crude probes, and maniacal grunts came from his throat.
Emily kept watching the window. Finally a buckskin clad leg appeared. She began laughing, sprawling out on the bed wickedly to
keep Byron’s attention away from the window. Then she suddenly rolled off the bed. “Catch me, Byron,” she teased.
He grinned hideously, licking his lips. He raised up to go after her, but suddenly he felt a strong arm come around him from behind, pulling tight against his throat, and the tip of a big knife pressed to his cheek just under his eye.
“One sound, and this eye gets popped right out of its socket,” Caleb warned.
Emily quickly grabbed up a robe and pulled it on, while Byron gaped at her. “You,” he squeaked. “You’re the one!”
Caleb bent his arm even harder, choking the man. “I told you not to make a sound,” he growled. He looked at Emily. “My pockets—some straw. Take it out and stuff it in his mouth.”
Emily nodded, wide-eyed with the tenseness of the moment. Byron began struggling wildly, but he was no match for Caleb. He pulled and tugged at Caleb’s arm, but his struggles only caused Caleb’s knife to cut into his skin and the sharp pain made him begin crying like a little boy.
Caleb’s hold on his throat was so tight he couldn’t get enough air, and Byron began to get weary. Emily walked over beside Caleb and grabbed straw from the pockets of his buckskin jacket. Caleb stood at the edge of the bed while Byron was still on it, his thin, naked body squirming while he cried. He kept his lips tightly shut.
“Open your mouth, you son of a bitch, or I’ll by God cut your balls off right here and now,” Caleb hissed.
The man shook violently. He opened his mouth and Emily stuffed straw into it. Caleb yanked the man from the bed then, shoving him to the floor and planting a knee against his chest so hard that he could breathe barely enough to stay alive. Caleb shoved his knife into its sheath for a moment, taking out a bandanna and quickly tying it around Byron Clawson’s mouth tightly so he couldn’t make a sound. He jerked the man to his feet. Emily was astounded at Caleb’s strength. If Caleb Sax was in pain, no one would know it, nor would a person believe the man had been a near cripple just a few days earlier.
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