Chasing the Sun (8 page)

In town, William wasn’t surprised to find folks rather hostile toward him. Those who knew him and his family seemed unwilling to forget that he’d gone to fight for the Union. At the mercantile, Nelson Pritchard, who had once been a good friend to William’s father, barely said two words when William entered the store.

Glancing around the place, William could see that the inventory was low compared to how it had been in the past. Hannah circulated amongst the aisles, picking up an item or two as she went. William watched her, curious. She was certainly feisty.

He observed her hoop skirt sway as she maneuvered through stacks of empty crates. She wasn’t dressed all that fancy, but he thought she cut a fine figure of a woman. He stood waiting near the checker barrel and pondered the situation. There had to be some way to remove the hostilities between them. The chiding he’d given her regarding the Comanche was for her own good. She’d been foolish to walk out into the fracas. Still, if he was going to settle this matter with the ranch, he might very well need to appeal to her kindness.

He’d seen that kindness extended to Night Bear. Surely she could spare a little for him, as well.

“William Barnett. I didn’t think we’d see you in Cedar Springs again,” Mrs. Pritchard said, coming from a back room.

William turned to face the older woman. She offered him nothing more than a disapproving stare. He smiled and gave her a slight nod. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

She gave a huff and maneuvered by him as though he were diseased. “We figured you’d head north and stay there.”

“I’m not a Unionist, Mrs. Pritchard,” William said. “I’m a Texan. And I intend to stay a Texan.”

“Well, a good Texan wouldn’t go off fighting for the Yankees,” she said, tying an apron around her thick waist. “Where’s your father and brother?”

William grimaced. “They were killed in the war. Killed by Confederate soldiers. I was wounded and left crippled. Perhaps I should allow that to make me feel hostile toward you and the others who have supported the South. But frankly, I don’t see that it serves any good purpose.”

“Your people were traitors,” Nelson Pritchard said, joining his wife. “You are a traitor. You put on that Yankee uniform. You got what you deserved.”

“Mr. Pritchard,” Hannah Dandridge interrupted, “do you by any chance have flour?”

“We have a bit, Miss Hannah,” the man replied, turning away from William. “It’s mighty costly.”

“Well, I’ll take some anyway. We have a birthday cake to make for Diego Montoya.”

Pritchard nodded and headed for the flour barrel. “We managed to get some supplies in from some Southern sympathizers out of the Colorado Territory. It’s costing us more than it ought to, but these are hard times.”

William saw Berto enter the store and turned from Mrs. Pritchard to join him. Hannah noticed him at the same time. “Was Mr. Lockhart in his office?” she asked.

“No,
señorita.
He was not.”

“You lookin’ for Herbert?” Mr. Pritchard asked Hannah.

“Yes. We were hoping to speak with him.”

“He’s gone to Dallas on business. I’ll let him know when he returns that you were looking for him.”

Hannah flushed and refocused her attention on a bushel of apples. “These look quite good. I’ll take a dozen. Oh, and how about cornmeal? I could use a fifty pound sack if you have it.”

William noted her embarrassment regarding Lockhart. Then Pritchard moved in close to Hannah and said something that William couldn’t hear. She nodded and he spoke again. This time she stepped back and shook her head. “No, it’s all right. I’m not worried.”

The storekeeper looked at William and then back to Hannah. “I don’t want you havin’ any trouble.”

“Mr. Pritchard, I’m certain Mr. Barnett will be an asset to us. After all, he cares for the ranch just as we do, and as a good Christian man, he will deal with us honorably.” She looked at William as if to affirm this, but he said nothing.

Once Hannah finished with her shopping, William and Berto carried the supplies out to the wagon. He allowed Berto to hand Hannah up to the wagon seat, wondering at this woman who burned with angry defiance one minute, then defended him the next. Climbing into the back of the wagon, William said nothing as Berto took the driver’s seat once more.

The buildings appeared smaller and smaller as they drove away from town. William watched Cedar Springs pass from sight, soon to be replaced with open range and occasional farms and clumps of trees. Nothing seemed the same; yet he supposed it was bound to change what with time away and the war. He and his father and brother had been gone nearly two years. Two years of blood and guts being spilled in a war he didn’t believe in.

“How can you not believe in the sanctity of the union?” his father had asked him shortly before his death.

It wasn’t a matter of not believing that the states should stay united. It wasn’t even a matter of not desiring to see the slaves set free. William abhorred slavery. No, it was more just feeling that bloodshed and war were not the best resolution to the problem. The entire country was acting like a rebellious child. Why should he be a part of that?

Now he’d returned to all that he loved . . . only to find it, too, taken from him.

He glanced toward the heavens.
Where are you, God? Why did you take everything from me? Why did you forsake me?

S
unday, after morning chores, Hannah and the others gathered in the living room of the main house and did as they had done since coming to the ranch. Despite John Dandridge’s loss of his faith, they celebrated the Lord’s Day together and Hannah welcomed anyone who wanted to join them. This usually included most of the hands and of course the Montoya family, but today it also included William Barnett.

Dressed in brown trousers and a bib-buttoned white cambric shirt he’d borrowed from Berto, William looked quite handsome. Hannah tried to forget her attraction to him while they read from the Psalms. There was no sense in losing her thoughts over a man who very well might prove to be their ruin. After all, there was still no telling what he would do in regard to the ranch.

Forcing her thoughts back on the verses at hand, Hannah wondered at the psalmist’s request. The forty-third Psalm consisted of only five verses. She read them slowly.

“ ‘Judge me, O God, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation: O deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man. For thou art the God of my strength: why dost thou cast me off? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? O send out thy light and thy truth: let them lead me; let them bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles. Then will I go unto the altar of God, unto God my exceeding joy: yea, upon the harp will I praise thee, O God my God. Why art thou cast down, O my soul? And why art thou disquieted within me? Hope in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.’ ”

Hannah glanced at William Barnett and thought of the psalmist’s cry to be delivered from the deceitful and unjust man. But Barnett wasn’t either of those things. He might well be the enemy; but then again, he wasn’t exactly that, either. Hannah wasn’t at all certain what William Barnett was to them. Would he prove to be a blessing or a curse?

Why art thou cast down, O my soul?

She pondered those words, feeling as if God was speaking directly to her. They had known God’s mercy in His deliverance from the Comanche. Hannah had to acknowledge God’s mighty power in soothing the hearts of the savages toward them. Yes, perhaps she had erred in putting herself in the midst of the matter instead of waiting for the men in her household to handle the situation. But nevertheless, God had blessed them.

After the Scripture reading, they spent some time in silent prayer, as had become their custom. Hannah knew that they each had a different background where religious training was concerned, but she believed that if a person acknowledged God the Father and accepted His Son, Jesus, as Savior, many of the other issues could be easily worked out.

When the mantel clock chimed twelve, Hannah lifted her head and said amen.

Marty scratched at the lace around her collar. “Can I change my clothes now? This itches.”

Hannah took pity on her sister. “Yes. You and Andy can change into your play clothes. Pepita, can you go help Marty with her buttons?”

Pepita nodded and reached out for Marty’s hand. “I will help.”

Andy beat Marty to the loft ladder and shot up before she could even protest. Hannah very nearly laughed at the scene. Her siblings were not much for dressing in their Sunday best. She supposed it had to do with them being raised on the frontier. In her own childhood there had been many occasions for dressing up—supper alone had been a daily reason for putting on one’s best clothes. When they’d all lived together in Vicksburg, the dinner table was a place for socializing, and that required a certain decorum.

Things were far different here in the wilds of Texas, however. Washing clothes was an arduous task and fine silks were inappropriate for ranch work. Not realizing this, Hannah had brought a trunk full of useless fashions that remained packed at the foot of her bed. She sighed, thinking of the world she had left. What was the sense in bringing out such finery here? She could hardly wear them to work in the garden.

She felt someone touch her arm and glanced up to find William Barnett by her side. “Yes?” she asked, startled that he would be so bold as to take hold of her.

“I asked if I might have a moment to discuss something with you. You didn’t seem to hear me.”

Hannah looked away in discomfort. “I’m afraid I was lost in my thoughts. Of course we can speak.” She glanced around the now-empty room. “Would you care to remain here, or should we speak outside?”

William inclined his head toward the door. “Let’s take a walk.”

She nodded and followed him outside. The temperature had cooled considerably in the last couple of days. Hannah thought that perhaps it might even turn cold. Since coming to Texas she’d experienced snow twice and thought it quite marvelous.

“Look, I asked to speak with you so that we might exact a sort of truce between us,” William said without waiting. “I’m not your enemy.”

Hannah stopped and fixed him with a serious gaze. “Neither am I yours.”

“I’m glad we’re able to establish at least that much,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I also want you to know that no matter what the situation turns out to be with the ownership of the ranch, it is not in my nature to turn out women and children to fend for themselves.”

Hannah bristled for a moment. How could he suggest that the ranch’s ownership was in question? She felt confident that once he spoke with Mr. Lockhart, it would all be resolved. He would see that the property had been confiscated as spoils of war, and that he and his family had forfeited any possible possession.

Still, there was no sense in making matters worse by pointing this out. Hannah drew in a deep breath. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Barnett.”

“I would ask that you extend the same consideration, if possible.”

She nodded. “I would not throw you to the mercy of the Comanche nor to the people of Cedar Springs. Apparently they are not yet able to understand your choosing to fight for the Union.”

His expression hardened. “It wasn’t my choosing. It was my father’s. I was simply being the obedient son.”

“Well, that is something I can well understand,” Hannah replied. “Perhaps not being a son, but being obedient. My father is the reason I am here. It was not my choosing.”

“So maybe you can understand my situation.”

She gave the briefest of nods, then folded her hands against the blue calico dress she’d chosen. It wasn’t her finest by any means, but it was nicer than most of the skirts and blouses she wore for every day. She also thought it did wonders for her eyes. Suddenly she had a terrible thought. Had she worn this gown to impress Mr. Barnett? Was she trying to attract his attention?

“I intend to earn my keep. If you will give me permission to do so, I would like to take over the running of the ranch. Berto is good at what he does, but there are certain things my father had planned for the ranch—things I would like to implement and continue.”

His request seemed reasonable. After all, it was free labor for the betterment of the property. When her father returned, he would probably be grateful for the innovations and improvements.

“I see no reason you should not continue with those plans already in place,” Hannah replied.

Just then Andy came flying out the open door. “Thomas Early said we could go look for steers in the wash after dinner. If you said it was all right.”

Hannah smiled. “I think that would be fine. Just promise me you’ll stay with Thomas and not wander off on your own.”

“I promise.” Andy looked up at William. “You can come, too, if you want.”

“I’m afraid my leg is giving me trouble today, so I might take you up on that offer another day.”

Hannah looked at the man’s leg and then quickly returned her focus to his face. “I didn’t realize your leg was bothering you. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No,” William said uncomfortably.

“My sister is the bravest in the world, don’t you think, Mr. Barnett?” Andy asked, hugging his arms around Hannah’s waist. “She faced those Comanche all by herself. Well, she said there were angels with her, but it was still brave.”

“It was foolish,” William replied before Hannah could speak.

She had thought to tell her brother her actions had been folly, but William’s comment made her angry.
So much for our truce
, she thought.

“Hannah, can I go with Andy?” Marty called as she joined them. “He said he’s going to the warsh with Thomas.” Her drawl mimicked that of the cowboy.

“I know his plans, but no, you may not go.” She turned back to William. “I would appreciate it if you would keep your opinions of me and my actions to yourself. I can explain myself to my brother and do not need your reprimand.”

“It wasn’t a reprimand. I was merely setting the boy straight. I would hate for him to live by your example.”

Andy pulled away from his sister. “Don’t be mean to Hannah, Mr. Barnett. She’s real smart, and Pa says she’s about the strongest woman he’s ever known.”

Hannah startled at this. She’d never known her father to say anything of the kind. Had he truly told Andy such a thing?

“I don’t doubt that your sister is smart in some things,” William said. “And I’ll agree with your pa that she’s a strong woman, but what she did with the Comanche was not smart. Nor would she be strong enough to stand up to them should they have decided to attack. I would hope you would never do anything so foolish.”

“I feel,” Hannah interjected, “the Bible is correct in Corinthians where it says, ‘But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty.’ It has been my experience, Mr. Barnett, that often God’s calling appears foolish to those who have no true understanding of His direction. Perhaps you should pray for guidance.”

William’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you should pray for wisdom.”

“I was brave,” Marty declared in the midst of their standoff. “There was an Injun . . . Indian once who wanted to steal one of our horses and I told him no.”

Hannah looked to her sister and shook her head. “Martha Dandridge, you must stop these tales. You cannot tell such falsehoods without punishment. Go to the loft and stay there until dinner. Go to your bed and spend the time thinking about why it is wrong to lie.”

Marty’s lower lip quivered, but she did as she was told and walked with slumped shoulders back to the house. Andy seemed to understand that Hannah was no longer in a good mood and took that as his cue to leave.

“I’m gonna find Thomas and tell him you said it was okay to go after we eat.” He took off at a run, as if fearful that Hannah would change her mind.

Hannah had no desire to make Andy unhappy, however. She was more focused on putting William Barnett in his place. But that, she realized, would have to wait, for the sound of an approaching rider drew her attention to the road beyond the ranch.

She sighed. “It would seem Mr. Lockhart has learned of your desire to speak with him.”

They waited in silence as the horse and rider drew closer. Lockhart seemed to frown as he recognized the man at her side. Hannah didn’t know what kind of problems might exist between the two of them, if any, but she had no desire to be in the middle of their discussion.

“Mr. Lockhart, what brings you our way?” she asked as he dismounted. She knew what his answer would be but couldn’t think of anything else to say. She didn’t want to suggest that she was happy to see him, for that would be a lie. Then it dawned on her that he might have word of her father. “Have you heard something about my father?”

“I’ve had no more information on him.” Lockhart tied off his horse and came to where they stood. “I heard, however, that Mr. Barnett was back and had business with me.” He narrowed his eyes. “I do hope you haven’t caused Miss Dandridge any trouble.”

“Well, I must be excused,” Hannah said, not wanting to remain. “I need to see to helping Juanita with our dinner. Would you care to stay and eat with us, Mr. Lockhart?”

He broke into a broad smile. “I would cherish the opportunity.”

Hannah nodded and turned to go. “If you two wish to remain out here for your discussion, I’ll send Marty for you when the meal is ready.”

William wanted to say something more to Hannah, but her retreating figure made it clear that she had ended their conversation. He didn’t like leaving matters as they were. He knew his attitude had put her off once again, and her preaching at him didn’t help him to relent.

Instead, he turned to Lockhart. The man wasn’t a complete stranger. Lockhart had been in the Cedar Springs area off and on prior to the war, and while William had relatively little to do with the man, he knew him nevertheless.

“Lockhart,” William said with a nod.

“Mr. Barnett. I can’t say that I expected to see you in these parts again.”

“And why not? This is my ranch now that my father and brother are dead.”

“I beg to differ,” Lockhart replied, squaring his shoulders. “The law of this land would say otherwise.”

“The Confederate law?”

“Exactly so. Texas is a part of the Confederacy.” Lockhart smiled. “Even if you and your family thought otherwise.”

“Look, I’m not here to discuss the politics of the day. I simply want to know why it is that the Confederacy thought it acceptable to rob me of my land. I intend to fight this as far as I need to in order to see the matter set straight.”