After a restless night, Hannah forced her eyes open and wondered at the time. William was gone, but that wasn’t unusual. He had taken to sleeping outside the tepee most nights, and only shared the confines of the shelter when the weather was bad. Hannah knew that normal circumstances would have made such an arrangement a great scandal, but Mr. Barnett had handled himself in a most gentlemanly manner. She could not fault him for his actions.
What she did fault him for was his past choices. She couldn’t shake from her mind the fact that he’d been at Vicksburg—that he’d taken lives there. She knew that war required many sacrifices, but losing her brother and grandfather were not ones she easily accepted. Now perhaps her father had been imprisoned or killed, and that would be one more thing the war had taken from her.
Yawning, she forced herself to get up. She put on her boots, then rebraided her hair in a single plait. Her back ached from sleeping on the ground so long. She couldn’t imagine how the Numunuu endured such a life. They did everything seemingly on the move. Horses were their pride and joy. Hannah had seen a good number of Indian ponies positioned just beyond the camp. Horses were used for trade and bartering as well as war, and the more ponies a warrior owned, the more respected he was. Hannah thought it rather an imbalanced life. Horses were important, but stability and proper houses were not.
Without warning, she heard shouts from outside and then blood-curdling yells filled the air. Gunfire followed, causing Hannah to jump to her feet. She hurried to see what was happening amidst the chaos and had just reached the flap of the tepee when someone came crashing through. Falling backwards, Hannah clung to the person who somehow seemed to roll to one side and take the impact of their fall.
It was then that Hannah saw that William Barnett was the man holding her. “What’s happening?” she demanded.
Bullets zinged around them, cutting through the hide of the shelter. William pushed her head down against his chest and covered her.
“Soldiers,” he managed to tell her above the din. “We’re under attack by the Frontier Army.”
Hannah felt a chill wash over her. How had the soldiers found them? Would they kill everyone or were they merely trying to frighten them?
“Hannah, listen to me,” William said, taking hold of her face. “We need to get out of here. The ground slopes down to the river just behind the tepee. I’ll cut our way out. Stay down on the ground and move toward the river once we’re outside.”
“But why? Why do we have to leave?” she asked. “They’ll see that we are white and not harm us.”
“They won’t stop long enough to check skin color,” he replied. “If you’re living here, they’re gonna figure you to be Comanche or else soiled by association. Now, come on.” He released her and crawled on his belly toward the back of the room. Taking a knife from his boot, Hannah watched as he stabbed the hide and pulled downward.
More bullets passed through the tepee and the unmistakable smell of smoke left Hannah no doubt that the soldiers were setting fire to anything that would burn. Tears filled her eyes. This was murder, plain and simple, just as it was murder when the Comanche did it to the whites.
“Come on. Move.” William motioned her toward the back. Hannah crawled as she’d seen him do and was soon at his side. “I’ll go first, then you follow right behind me. Keep moving and don’t look back.”
Hannah found it impossible to speak. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out in fear amidst the screams and gunfire. All around her the world seemed to be coming to an end. Sharp rocks bit into her palms as she dragged herself through the opening. The ground sloped sharply nearly five feet from the tepee, and brush and rocks lined the edge of the ravine. She saw William slide over the edge and disappear. Had he fallen? She reached the place where he’d gone and found him waiting for her. He pulled her over the side without consideration of the terrain. Hannah cried out as her ribs hit the rocky wall.
William pressed her against the rock and held her there. But despite the measure of comfort she felt in his protection, fear enveloped her. She felt faint and worried about whether she might pass out.
After a few moments the gunfire slowed to only occasional shots. There were no more screams, and Hannah could only surmise that the Comanche were all dead. She couldn’t stop her tears and hung her head so that Mr. Barnett would not see them.
As the gunfire ceased altogether, Hannah heard the bellowed orders from one of the soldiers. “Round those savages up. On the double-quick. Find the white hostages.”
Hannah raised her head at this. “Hostages?”
William shook his head. “They most likely concern themselves with hostages anytime they raid a village. Even so, we’ll try to make our way back into camp without getting shot and let them know that we aren’t here against our will.”
Hannah noted the warmth of his body as he held her. She liked the way he made her feel safe—as though nothing in the world could hurt her. When he released her to survey their surroundings, she felt a palpable loss. Why did she have feelings for this man—this man who confused and vexed her?
Helping Hannah back to the top of the ridge, William called out to the soldier’s leader. “Captain! Captain, hold your fire!”
They stepped forward as a mounted officer moved toward them. “We’re here to rescue you.”
“We didn’t need rescuing,” Hannah said, pulling away from William. “These people are sick with smallpox. You had no need to ride in, guns blazing. You’ve surely killed innocent people.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but there is no such thing as an innocent Comanche.”
She wanted to tell the man exactly what she thought of him, but William pulled her back in step with him. “Captain, Miss Dandridge is right. This village is sick with smallpox. Your men have risked their lives coming here.”
“A soldier risks his life wherever the trail takes him,” the man replied. “And who might you be?”
“William Barnett.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Heard tell of some Yankee sympathizers called Barnett. Seems they up and joined the Union to fight against Texas.”
Hannah put herself in front of William at this point. “Sir, I wonder if you might have any water. I’m feeling faint.” She put her hand to her forehead in the manner she’d seen many a young lady do in order to gain attention.
The captain jumped from the horse’s back and pulled free his canteen from around the horn of his saddle. William, meanwhile, took hold of Hannah from behind to steady her.
“Here, take a drink,” the captain ordered.
Hannah did just that. “Goodness,” she said, lowering the canteen and her eyes. “The excitement has been just about too much for me.” She reached out to the captain. “I am sorry for making such a fuss.” She cautiously cast a glance toward William, whose raised brow and expression let her know that he was on to her game.
“Now, ma’am, why don’t you sit for a moment and rest. I have to get back to the detail of rounding up these savages.” He took the canteen and remounted the horse. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stay right here so that my men can do their job.”
Hannah started to speak, but Barnett tightened his grip on her. Once the captain was far enough away, Hannah felt William loosen his hold. She turned and looked at him for a moment. The expression on his face was rather puzzling.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Well, I’m not. I cannot let those soldiers further harm the Numunuu.” She started for the camp, but William pulled her back.
“Hannah, listen to me.”
It was the second time he’d called her Hannah, and her heart was beating faster at the realization. She waited for him to continue.
“Those men aren’t going to be sympathetic to your concern for the Numunuu. I think it best if you went on playing the sweet helpless belle for now. You’re really rather good at it.”
“You sound sarcastic,” she said, “but it
saved your neck.”
“You have a very low opinion of me, Miss Dandridge.”
Hannah ignored his tone. “What are they going to do to the survivors?” she asked. “What are they gathering them together for? Will they kill them?”
William shook his head as he looked back to where the soldiers were working. “I don’t know.” He turned back to face her. “But you cannot stop whatever they have planned.”
“Well, I can’t stand by and let them be murdered.” She walked away from him, but William quickly caught up to her.
“Look, I don’t know what happened, but I get the feeling these men are here because someone told them we were here.”
She stopped and looked at him. “What are you saying?”
Barnett looked to where a handful of warriors were being forced to stand. Night Bear was at the front of the group. “I think someone found out about our being here and didn’t much care for the idea. I think they probably told the soldiers we were being held captive.”
“Who would do such a thing?”
“I don’t know,” he said, “but I intend to find out.”
Seeing that their hands were filled with the remaining Comanche, the captain gave only a token protest when William told him they were returning home. A few hours later, William and Hannah rode up to the Terrys’ ranch house. They were both dirty and exhausted and neither had eaten since that morning. William helped Hannah from her horse and feared she might well crumple to the ground had he not held her fast for a moment.
She rallied and straightened. “I’ve heard of the Terrys, but I’ve not yet met them.”
“Well, it’s high time you did. They’re good folks and your closest neighbor.” William secured the horses. “We’ll stay the night here if they don’t mind, and knowing Ted and Marietta as I do . . . I’m pretty sure they won’t.”
He led the way to the front door. Ted Terry had spared no expense in the latest renovations of his home. Each time William visited, the place seemed more inviting than the last. When he’d been a boy of seventeen, the house had only been a small four-room building. Three years later Ted added a larger living room and kitchen. Five years later he gave Marietta an entire second floor. Having only been here a couple of weeks earlier, however, things were the same. The front porch wrapped around the house in white-washed welcome. The chairs there seemed to beckon a fellow to take a load off his feet and rest a spell. William had done that very thing, visiting with Ted and Marietta on many occasions prior to the war. Those days seemed so long ago.
He didn’t get a chance to knock. The door opened and Ted Terry stood with lamp in hand. “Will, I didn’t think to see you again so soon. Who have you brought with you?”
“Ted, this is Miss Hannah Dandridge. She’s the one I told you about.”
The older man smiled. “Welcome, Miss Dandridge. You two look done in. You’d best come inside and tell me what’s happened.”
William nudged Hannah toward the house and was glad that she didn’t offer protest. Once inside, William explained their circumstances and why they’d come. Ted listened with his customary consideration, until his wife appeared.
“Goodness, Mr. Terry, why haven’t you asked these folks to sit?” she questioned. She took one look at Hannah and frowned. “Child, you look positively spent. What does our Will mean by dragging you out here?”
“This is Miss Hannah Dandridge,” William interjected. “She’s the one staying at my . . . at the ranch.” He looked to Hannah. “This is Mrs. Terry.”
“Now, now. No sense in formalities. Call me Marietta.”
“Marietta, Will was just tellin’ me that they were up at Tierra del Diablo helping some sick Comanche when soldiers came in and slaughtered most of the living.”
“There was a Comanche village that close by?” she asked with a shudder, then sobered even more. “And you two were up there? I can see there’s a long story to be told, but not now. Miss Hannah is all but weaving on her feet. I’m going to put this child in a warm bath and then to bed.”
William smiled at the motherly woman. “You’d better feed her, too. She hasn’t had a whole lot to eat in the last two weeks.”
Marietta shook her head and gave a tsking sound. “Well, we will see about that.”
Hannah willingly went with the woman while William remained with Ted. He knew the older man would be able to offer some objective thought on the events of the day.
“Why don’t you come with me to the kitchen, and we’ll round you up something to eat and drink while you tell me about the parts you left out. This story seems a bit more complicated than you’ve let on.”
“It’s very complicated,” William said, frowning. He followed Ted to the kitchen and sank into an offered chair. “I think someone sent the soldiers because of us, but I can’t be sure.”
“Why do you say that?” Ted motioned the cook to his aid. An older Mexican woman stepped forward and awaited instruction.
“Hola, Teresa,” William greeted wearily.
“Hola, Mr. Will.” She beamed him a toothy smile. The years had taken their toll on her body and face, but her teeth had remained intact and were her pride and joy.
“We need a plate of food and some hot coffee for Mr. Will. The missus is going to want a plate for our other guest, as well.”
She nodded and went quickly to work as Ted pulled out the only other chair at the small table and took a seat. He looked to William, awaiting further explanation. William continued.
“Miss Dandridge went to help the Comanche when that wounded boy I told you about came to the ranch, asking her to come. I tracked them out to Tierra del Diablo and when I saw the mess, I stayed and helped, too. Many of the Numunuu were dead and needed burying. Several days ago we sent a letter back to the ranch letting them know where we were and that we were safe. The soldiers attacked the village at dawn today, and we were caught in the crossfire. Even so, once the commotion settled down, I heard the captain instruct his men to find the white hostages.”
“Meaning you and Miss Dandridge?”
“That’s what I think.”
Teresa placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. William took a long drink before continuing. “It was almost like they knew who they were looking for. I know they always look for white hostages anytime they attack an Indian village, but this made it sound like they knew we were there.”
“But who would have sent the soldiers? Your people wouldn’t have done that, would they?”
William took another drink and nearly finished off the contents. “No,” he said, putting the cup down. “They wouldn’t have.”
“Maybe the soldiers had been tracking that band. You know they are working to quell the uprisings. There are so many bands out there wreaking havoc on the settlers that the army had to step in and put it down.”
“I know that, but we were well hidden.”
“Yet you found them,” Ted countered. “You aren’t the only one who can read tracks.”
He let out a heavy sigh as Teresa place a plate of food in front of him. “Gracias.” She picked up the cup and went to refill it as William continued. “So you think this was just some coincidence?”
“Now, Will, you know I don’t believe in happenstance. God has a plan for everything. He knows where we’re going to be at any given time, and He has foreknowledge of all that will happen. You were there for a reason, and those soldiers came for a reason. God alone knows what those purposes were.”
“Sure wish He’d let me in on it,” William said, picking up his fork.
“You stop fighting Him and surrender, and He just might,” Ted said with a mischievous smile. “You think He doesn’t know that you’re angry with Him right now. You think you’re somehow keeping God in the dark—that He hasn’t a clue what’s in your heart, but He knows it all, William. He knows why you’re fighting Him and He knows just what it’s going to take to bring you back in line. And, in time . . . you’re going to know it, too.”
“Tha
t’s what I’m afraid of,” William said, stabbing a piece of beef steak. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
18
Marietta kept Hannah company as she ate her supper in bed. The older woman had insisted it be done this way, and Hannah was too tired to argue.
“You’re very fortunate to have someone like Will around to help you,” Marietta said, working with a crochet hook to make a shawl.
Hannah watched the woman’s nimble fingers quickly manage the blue yarn. She considered her words carefully. “He is rather . . . imposing.”
Laughter was not what Hannah had expected from Marietta Terry. The woman looked up from her work and shook her head. “I’ve heard William Barnett called devoted and responsible, but never imposing. Why don’t you tell me why you feel that way?”
Again, Hannah wondered just how much she could say. The Terrys were, after all, good friends of William’s family. They were also her closest neighbors, if a person could call seven miles away close.
“He just strikes me as . . . determined. Perhaps that’s a better word. He knows what he wants and believes his way to be best.”
Marietta nodded. “He’s a smart one, that Will. Even as a very young man he seemed to understand this land better than his pa or his brother. Their ma, God rest her soul, doted on him. I think that was because the older boy was his father’s shadow. The two sons were quite different. William was always so considerate . . . you might even say softhearted. I’ve seen him go out of his way many a time to offer some kindness. Before this war broke out, I don’t think the man had an enemy at all. Folks knew him to be reliable and helpful, and out here, that’s more valued than gold.”
Hannah thought for a moment about Marietta’s statement. William Barnett had been quite helpful to her, and she supposed he was reliable, as well. “Why did he go off to war?”
With a frown, Marietta ceased her crocheting. “His pa had it in his mind that it was their duty to go. Ted tried to tell him that sending one son to fight was more than enough, but Jason Barnett never did anything by halves. He said not only would Lyle go to fight, but William and he would go, as well. They would make a formidable trio—at least that’s what he told Ted. Poor Lucy would have been beside herself, had she still been alive. I think it was the only time I’ve ever been glad she was gone. She was a dear friend and I miss her more than I can tell you. We only had a very short time together, but that woman packed a lot of love into those two years.”
Chasing the Sun Page 16