Authors: Jason Manning

Gone to Texas (39 page)

BOOK: Gone to Texas

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"In the past few months I've come to."

"I wish I knew mine. It is the great mystery, your
raison d'être
—your reason for being. Yet the day will dawn when you will know that it is the right time and the right place, and you will leave your mark." Travis put out his hand. "Best of luck to you."

Christopher shook the proffered hand. "And to you. I hope you find what you're looking for."

The town of Anahuac seemed to be holding its breath, expecting a storm of Mexican retribution, but not knowing when it would come. The wounded Mexican soldiers had been well cared for, and the prisoners released. Christopher made it clear to the only surviving officer, a Lieutenant Herrera, that they had not fought in order to start a war, but rather to save the lives of three innocent men. Herrera was a reasonable man. He assured Christopher that he understood, and would pass the word along. But they both agreed it probably would make no difference in the long run.

The Anahuacans kept their guns loaded and their eyes peeled and their fingers crossed. Armed patrols roamed in the vicinity of the presidio, but Herrera and the remnant of the garrison were not inclined to start any trouble. A sentry was on duty around the clock on the docks,
for there were some who said the attack would come from the sea.

Christopher kept his own vigil on the docks. He had very little else to do. Nathaniel, Klesko, and his mother were gone. So was Noelle. She had simply vanished on the day of the battle. Christopher had wanted to talk to her, to find out why O'Connor had joined the fight after all, and to tell her that he was truly sorry about what had happened, because he didn't love her, but loved another with all his heart and soul.

Yet no one could tell him what had happened to her. As far as he could tell she had not taken passage on a ship. She had not departed Anahuac on a horse or in a wagon. Perhaps she had gone up the river. Perhaps she had just walked into the woods. Not knowing preyed on Christopher's mind. His conscience bothered him. He tried to persuade himself that he wasn't responsible. Noelle's vanishing act left a part of his life unresolved, and he couldn't help feeling as though it never would be, because he doubted he would ever see her again, or even know what had become of her. In this way she would always be with him, and he wondered if she had planned it that way.

Two weeks after the battle Nathaniel returned to Anahuac. He went to Sam Fulshear's place, where he knew Christopher was staying, and he brought the old man some venison steaks. Fulshear directed the frontiersman to the docks.

"He's out there from dawn until well after dark," said the old-timer. "Day in and day out, rain or shine. What's he waitin' for?"

"His future," said Nathaniel.

He found Christopher sitting on the end of a pier with his legs dangling, reading Napoleon's
Maxims
.

"Getting ready for the next one?" asked the old leatherstocking.

Christopher was happy to see him, and asked after his mother.

"I think Becky's going to like it up there," said Nathaniel. "The folks thereabouts have all pitched in to help build her a cabin. I reckon it'll be finished by the time we get back."

"And Klesko?"

"Happy as a lark. I thought I'd come down and see how you were doing. Any word?"

Christopher took a folded sheet of good heavy vellum from the book and handed it to the frontiersman.

"Came on a coastal schooner day before yesterday," he said, beaming.

Nathaniel unfolded the letter and read:

Dearest Christopher,

I have gone to Texas.

Love, Greta

Grinning, Nathaniel gave the letter back to Christopher, who held it as though it were the most precious thing in the world.

"Short and sweet," said Nathaniel.

Christopher nodded. In his emotional state, he did not trust himself to speak.

Tucker came along the pier to join them. "There's a ship out yonder."