The sheriff looked at Lockhart and voiced exactly what Hannah was thinking. “It can’t possibly hurt to have additional questions asked—especially by law officials. I have friends in Shreveport who will definitely be a boon to our search.”
“Thank you so much,” Hannah said, nodding. “I’m desperate to learn the truth. It isn’t easy for the children. . . . You can well imagine how it is to be so young and worry about your safety and security.”
“Indeed.”
“I have begged Miss Dandridge to move to Cedar Springs and forsake this place,” Mr. Lockhart began. “I have, in fact, asked her to be my wife. Although she has not yet given me an answer.”
Hannah looked at the man with a pasted-on smile. “Why, Mr. Lockhart, such topics are generally not discussed in the presence of others. I do believe that given my circumstance, it would be quite wrong of me to entertain proposals of marriage while Father’s welfare is uncertain. I believe I told you this once before.”
The man realized the rebuke and clenched his jaw. With the slightest nod of his head, he fixed Hannah with a hard stare. “I do apologize for my uncivilized manners.”
“You are forgiven,” Hannah said, turning back to the sheriff. “You mentioned something of the Indian wars earlier. Is there any news related to this?”
“Well, there have been some positive changes. Governor Lubbock has reorganized the Frontier Regiment to be a more formal military unit. The men have elected Major J. E. McCord as the new leader. His thought is that the regular patrols are ineffectual. He has replaced this idea with intense scouting. He wants to use surprise to the army’s advantage.”
“Surprise?” Hannah asked. “In what regard?”
“In regard to attacking. They are hoping to seek out Indians wherever they may be and eliminate their threat.”
“By eliminating the Indians?” Hannah asked.
“Yes. Their plan is to show the Indian they have no business here on the frontier—that the only place of refuge will be the reservations.”
Hannah thought of He Who Walks in Darkness and Night Bear. They would no doubt be up in arms for sure if the army tried to force them to a reservation.
“Otherwise,” the sheriff continued, “the state is pushing for the Frontier Regiment to become an official part of the Confederate government. That way Richmond will pay the bills, and not our fair state.”
Hannah thought about this for a moment. “But wouldn’t such an alliance also create problems with the soldiers and where they served? I mean, if they become a part of the Confederate Army and that army should need them to fight in the East, won’t that leave our area depleted of protection once again?”
The sheriff smiled. “You’re a smart young woman, Miss Dandridge. That is exactly the argument that has been posed. I suppose we’ll see what happens. They are supposed to be making a decision before Christmas.”
“Miss Hannah, the dinner is ready,” Juanita announced from the hall.
“Well, gentlemen,” Hannah said, getting to her feet, “I suggest we take our conversation to the dining room.”
Herbert Lockhart was none too happy with the way this trip had turned out. He sat at Hannah’s table and that in and of itself was a good thing. However, he had made no progress in seeing Barnett put off the ranch. In fact, Barnett wasn’t even there to be confronted by the sheriff.
He ate in silence for a few moments and tried to figure out how he might alienate Hannah from Barnett’s charms. He didn’t like knowing that the man was at the ranch, where he could influence Hannah, and do who knew what else to win her over to his side. The man was young, and some might say handsome. Lockhart knew that was not something he could boast for himself. A life spent working indoors had made him soft—even a bit round. He knew his balding pate was also no match for the full head of hair Barnett boasted. Women seemed to put a great deal of store in such things.
“This is a mighty fine lunch, Miss Dandridge. Your hospitality is truly a blessing. I had in mind to chew on jerked beef for my noon meal.” The sheriff rubbed his mustache and smiled. “This is well worth the long ride.”
“Thank you, Sheriff. I’m glad you’re enjoying the food.”
“And the company,” the man added.
Lockhart became tired of the insipid small talk. “You know, there still is quite a lot of danger here.” He looked at Hannah. “The Comanche and Kiowa are raiding throughout the area to the west and north. You really need to reconsider my invitation to move to town.”
“I have considered it. I suppose I should tell you both that we had a bit of an episode here. A young Comanche warrior was injured and my brother and Mr. Barnett brought him here to recover.”
“Here?” Lockhart looked to the sheriff. “See, I told you there were threats to the area.”
“Well, there are no more immediate threats to this ranch,” Hannah replied. “I met the boy’s father, the chief of this particular band. He has promised us peace in return for having helped his son.”
“Those savages won’t keep their word. Look at the way they’ve already broken treaty upon treaty,” Lockhart declared.
Hannah raised her hand. “Mr. Lockhart, I believe further exploration of the matter would show that our government has also broken treaties. But, that aside, I feel confident that I have earned the chief’s respect and that he will honor his word.”
“That is naïve of you, Miss Dandridge,” the sheriff countered. “Mr. Lockhart is correct in saying that the Indians won’t keep their word. They can’t be trusted. They have attacked settler after settler. They have wreaked havoc on the Santa Fe Trail—a long utilized trade route that is now cut off to us.”
“I understand there are those who are warring. I didn’t mean to imply that I had somehow single-handedly set matters aright. I merely state what happened to show you that we have made an arrangement for ourselves that seems to be working quite well.”
“They aren’t the only band of raiding Comanche,” Lockhart said, putting aside his fork. “You cannot hope to believe that the agreement you have with one band will modify the actions of the entire Comanche Nation. Not to mention the other warring tribes.”
“No, I suppose I can’t.” Hannah looked to the sheriff and then back to Lockhart. “But I am praying it will be so.”
Herbert Lockhart wanted to shake the woman until she changed her mind. He had hoped that by moving her into town, they could strengthen their relationship. Perhaps if she stayed in his home and didn’t oppose his being there, as well, their relationship might become somewhat intimate.
To his surprise, the sheriff changed the subject. “I understand Mr. Barnett was wounded in the war.”
Hannah nodded. “Yes. His father and brother were killed in battle, and he took a bullet through his leg. It has left him somewhat lame.”
“And where did this occur?”
She frowned. “I don’t seem to recall.”
“I can answer that,” Lockhart said, barely able to contain his delight. “It was at the Battle of Vicksburg.”
He tried to pretend the announcement was unimportant, but he could see by Hannah’s response that William Barnett had not been forthcoming with the information. “Yes, as I understand it, he and his brother and father were on the frontlines of that battle almost from its inception.”
“That was a terrible battle,” the sheriff added. “I heard that the siege caused much suffering for the townsfolk.”
Lockhart felt a rush of pleasure upon seeing Hannah’s pale face. He turned to her. “I find it amazing that you are so tolerant of having a man on your property who might well have caused the death of your dear family members and friends. You are quite the forgiving Christian, Miss Hannah.”
Putting her napkin aside, Hannah got to her feet. “Please do not get up, gentlemen,” she said as Lockhart and the sheriff started to rise. “I need to check on my brother and sister. I hope you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course,” the sheriff replied. “I’m going to hel
p myself to another one of these peaches while you’re gone.”
She nodded. “I’ll have Juanita bring more coffee.”
Lockhart wanted to say something more but decided it just might benefit him to remain silent. He’d obviously upset Hannah enough that she needed to take her leave. With any luck at all, she would allow her shock to become rage—and then hopefully she would throw Mr. Barnett from the ranch.
He smiled to himself and watched her leave. Perhaps things were starting to look up. Now if he could just steer the sheriff’s attentions in another direction to keep him from concerning himself with Dandridge’s whereabouts, everything would be perfect.
11
Wild boar was some of the best eating Texas had to offer, and William was more than happy to labor over the dead beast in order to provide for the ranch. It wasn’t his first boar to butcher, but the arduous task was not one he looked upon favorably.
“We’re nearly done,” he told Berto, putting another piece of the hog in salt.
“This will see us through for many months,” Berto said.
William assessed the meat and nodded. “The men did a good job fixing up the smokehouse. I’m sure we can get most of this meat hung and cured in good order. Where did Juanita want the fat taken?”
“She said to leave it here. She will come and tend to it.” Berto straightened and wiped his messy hands on a towel. “I can finish this. You still going to start breaking that black today?”
The horse in question had been green broke and nothing more. The men had questioned William about even attempting such a feat with his injury. In the days before the war, however, William had been the best at breaking, and he meant to see his reputation continue. He had plans for turning the black into a fine cow horse, but there would be a great deal of work to contend with first. The animal was very nearly as stubborn as Hannah Dandridge. William smiled to himself. Nearly as stubborn, but not quite.
He cast aside the heavy butcher apron and washed his hands. “I might spend some time getting reacquainted. I’ll get to that though after I have a cup of coffee. This cold spell is chilling me to the bone.”
“Hopefully it will not last long.” Berto declared.
William nodded and made his way to the house. He passed the area where the summer kitchen was situated. Here Juanita and Hannah worked on the laundry throughout the year, keeping a pot of hot water going almost all the time. He stopped for a moment and warmed his hands over the steaming liquid. His leg was hurting him something fierce, and the thought of a nice long soak in a hot bath sounded far more inviting than breaking a horse.
“Oh. I didn’t realize you were here,” Hannah said, seeming startled. She stepped from the back door with a small pot in hand. “Is the butchering done?”
Turning back to the boiling water, William rubbed his hands together. “We’re pretty much finished. Now we’ll get to smoking it. Should have enough meat to last through the next few months.”
“That’s a relief to know.” She began to draw water from the pot. “I suppose you already know this, but we’ll need to have more water brought up from the river. The sledge barrels are nearly empty, and since the well has nearly dried up we don’t have any other choice.”
“I’ll get JD on that. Andy can help him if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Hannah’s tone seemed rather stilted, but was nonetheless polite.
Since his return from the hunt, William thought Hannah had been acting rather cool toward him. There was no accounting for how a woman might act at any given moment, but Hannah Dandridge definitely remained a mystery to him. One minute she was holding off Comanche and the next she was bawling her eyes out. Still, he didn’t know what to make of her. She almost seemed hurt, and yet he knew he’d neither said nor done anything that should merit such a response.
He watched her ladle out water. She was by far and away the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. Her thick hair, pulled back from her face and pinned into a serviceable knot, begged his touch. He could almost feel the strands between his fingers. She seemed to sense him watching her and glanced up.
“Yes?” she asked, as if he’d posed a question.
He was at a loss for something to say. “Umm . . . is there coffee on the stove?”
“I believe so.”
“Great. I was just making my way there when the warmth of this fire caught my attention.”
Hannah looked at the glowing embers for a moment. “I should add some more wood.” She hung the ladle back on its nail and went to the woodpile. William watched her select pieces of pine as though she were choosing fabric. Hannah seemed to calculate each piece’s value before returning to the fire with her choices.
When she finished she picked up her pot of hot water. “You won’t forget about filling the barrels?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ll see to it right away. Guess we need to check into drilling another well, too.”
“Thank you.” She left without another word, and William couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong. She wasn’t acting at all like herself.
He decided against the coffee and went in search of JD and Andy instead. Once he instructed them to retrieve the water, William went to see the black. He had dealt with a hundred green-broke horses in his day, but this time was different. With his war wound, he could only wonder if he’d be able to sit upon the horse properly and endure the pain. Riding a well-broke horse had been less painful than trying to walk, but breaking a horse required a great deal of muscle and strength. Especially in one’s legs.
Walking to the pen where the black was corralled, William studied the gelding for a long while. The horse came to him after a few moments. He was seeking a treat, and William didn’t disappoint him. He reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of apple.
“So you remember me, do you?”
The horse had just started his training when William went away to war. That had been over two years ago. The now five-year-old gelding had known very little training since that time. Berto had attempted to keep working with the animal, but as he told William, the gelding seemed destined to belong to one man and one man alone. William.
The sleek black horse had been sired out of a match with one of Theodore Terry’s stallions and a Barnett mare. Ted lived about seven miles away on a ranch that had been established long before William’s family had come to Texas. The Terrys weren’t a part of the original three hundred who had come to Texas, but William figured their lineage could no doubt be included in the next one hundred who populated the territory.
“We’ll have to get you properly broke in so we can take a ride over to see Ted and Marietta and let them know what a good mount you turned out to be.”
The horse nickered softly as if understanding the compliment. William smiled. “Well, we aren’t getting it done standing here jawin’.”
He headed to the barn to retrieve the horse’s tack when he spotted riders approaching. There were at least five mounted men, and from the looks of them, they were Confederate cavalry. William bristled. What did they want? Had they come to cause him trouble?
Remaining by the barn door, William’s hand went to his thigh. The very sight of the soldiers caused a dull ache to rise up in his leg. The memories associated with that uniform—with any uniform—were far from pleasant. However, as the riders drew closer, William thought he recognized the man in front. He forgot about the tack and went to greet the visitors.
“Will, is that you?” the rider said, pulling his mount to a sharp halt. He jumped from the back of the horse and dropped the reins. “It is you! Well, I’ll be.”
Tyler Atherton pushed back his forage cap, grinned, and extended his hand. “Last time I saw you, you were headin’ off to be a Billy Yank.”
The two had been friends since William’s family had first come to Texas. He was rather surprised to find Atherton still speaking to him after his family’s well-known decision to fight for the North. William noted that the other mounte
d men didn’t seem as friendly. They watched him with great apprehension.
“And you are still a Johnny Reb, I see.” William shook Tyler’s hand and offered him a grin. “Have you brought the war to Dallas County?”
“In a way, but we can discuss that in due time. I wonder if you might have feed for my men and horses.”
William didn’t want to explain the situation with the ranch and neither did he want to impose five hungry men on Hannah’s dwindling supplies. However, given that he’d just returned from killing two boars, William figured he could extend an invitation.
“If you want to wash up at the bunkhouse, I’ll see what I can get Juanita to feed you.”
Tyler turned to the men. “Dismount and wash up. We’re gonna have some grub.”
The men’s somewhat standoffish countenance changed to acceptance. They dismounted and tied off their horses before joining Tyler and William. “Men,” Tyler continued, “this is my good friend Will Barnett. This is his family’s ranch, so treat it with respect.”
“Actually, the ranch is . . . well . . .” William realized he wasn’t going to get out of an explanation. “Since my father decided to fight for the North, the ranch was given to a family more supportive of the Confederate cause.” He looked at the men before him. “I want you each to know that I do not consider myself a Yankee, nor do I want to put you ill at ease. My convictions . . . my desires are with Texas, and that is where they will remain.”
“As part of the Texas Third Cavalry,” Tyler answered for them, “our loyalty is first with Texas, as well. So therefore we meet on common ground.”
William could see in the expressions of a couple of the men that they didn’t support Tyler’s words, but they said nothing. The front door opened at that moment and Hannah stepped from the house.
“Well now, if that ain’t a ray of sunshine,” one of the men declared.
Tyler turned to William. “You’d best introduce us.”
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