Home of the Brave (38 page)

“We’ll never find another
like her,” May added.

Whipple shrugged. “I guess
if she’s agreed there’s no more to be said. But the woman must be
seventy, Zach.”

“Don’t you love how he has
nothing to say except one more thing?” Taylor asked May.

“She might be sixty,” May
said to Whipple, “but she looks and acts like she’s younger than
any of us.”

“Yank’s seventy,” Taylor
added, “but Marina was just a girl when he married her.”

Whipple knew better but
decided not to argue. “I’ll need to get a note from her to Tom;
otherwise he’ll skin me out and nail my hide on the barn door for
leavin’ her here alone.”

“She’s in Matamoros,” Taylor
replied. “We’ll advance there as soon as we’ve buried our dead and
cared for our wounded.”

“Ain’t that dangerous for
her to be alone in Matamoros?” Whipple asked.

Taylor shook his head. “She
passes for a native. She’s perfectly safe and providing us with
much needed intelligence.”

“She sent us a note
earlier,” May added. “It seems that Arista’s been relieved of his
command. We’ll probably face little or no resistance in
Matamoros.”

“That ain’t no big surprise
that Arista’s been relieved, but it weren’t really his fault, poor
bugger. That Mess-kin gunpowder ain’t no account. The range on
their muskets is about half what ours is.”

“They’re carrying the same
Brown Bess that the British carried in the Revolutionary War,” May
agreed. “A poor weapon and worse powder.”

“You’ll forgive me if I say
that the primary reason for Arista’s defeat was the brilliance of
the opposing general,” Taylor offered.

“Oh hell,” Whipple said.
“That reminds me. I heard Sam Ringgold was kilt. Is it
true?”

Taylor nodded. “He died at
Port Isabel.”

“Dang,” Whipple
said.

May 9, 1846

Matamoros, Tamaulipas,
Mexico

“Fold.” William Van Buskirk
threw his cards down in disgust.

The vaquero sitting across
the poker table from him raked in the pot and grinned. “You ain’t
so lucky today Señor Lucky.”

“I can’t concentrate with
those damned guns,” William muttered.

“They tell me yer a
pistolero,” another man said.

William ignored him and
stood up.

“Hey, Bud. I’m talkin’ to
you.”

William drew his pistol and
put the barrel against the man’s forehead. “Any more
questions?”

“Nope.” The man raised his
hands.

William kept the pistol in
his hand and walked out of the saloon to the dusty
street.

A young woman wearing a
tastelessly short, feathered dress and matching feathers in her
hair ran out to catch him. “Where are you going, Billy?”

“I don’t really know,
Savannah. Somewhere else.”

“Take me with
you.”

He looked at her and
laughed. “Why is it that every fallen woman seems to think that I
can redeem her?”

“I have some money saved
up.”

He looked at her with new
interest. “How much?”

“Almost three thousand
dollars.”

He raised his eyebrows in
amazement. “Three thousand?”

“Almost. I forget
exactly.”

“United States dollars, not
pesos?”

“Texas dollars.”

He put his pistol in its
holster and looked toward the sound of guns. “Pack your things and
gather up your money, Savannah. We’re going to start a
business.”

“Where are we
going?”

“Brownsville,
Texas.”

“Where’s that?”

“Nowhere today but right
across that river by tomorrow or the next day.”

“Are you talkin’ about that
new Fort Brown?”

“Yes.”

“What if the Mexican army
wins the war?”

“I think that’s very
unlikely. In fact,” he pointed north. “That may be them coming
right now, with their tails between their legs.”

May 13, 1846

Washington, District of
Columbia

President James K. Polk,
before a joint session of the United States Congress, asked for a
declaration of war against Mexico using the incident at Rodriguez
Ford, which had become known as the Thornton Affair, as his
justification:
“The cup of forbearance had
been exhausted even before the recent information from the frontier
of the Rio Grande. But now, after reiterated menaces, Mexico has
passed the boundary of the United States, has invaded our territory
and shed American blood upon American soil. She has proclaimed that
hostilities have commenced and that the two nations are now at
war.”

Polk’s detractors
immediately attacked his decision. Prominent Congressman Joshua
Giddings said:
“In the murder of Mexicans
upon their own soil, or in robbing them of their country, I can
take no part either now or here-after. The guilt of these crimes
must rest on others. I will not participate in them.”

Congressman Abraham Lincoln
of Illinois said that he seriously doubted Polk’s claim of an
attack on American troops on American soil.

Abolitionists claimed that
the war was only an attempt to expand slavery into new territories
and states.

Former President John Quincy
Adams agreed.

Henry David Thoreau wrote
an essay called
Civil
Disobedience
.

Using Polk’s declaration of
war upon Mexico as justification, Antonio López de Santa Anna wrote
to embattled President Valentín Gómez Farías in Mexico City. In his
letter, Santa Anna stated unequivocally that he no longer had any
aspirations to the presidency and he offered Farías his vast
military experience in defense of his beloved Mexico. At the same
time, Santa Anna was also negotiating with the United States and
promising to sell all the disputed territory at a bargain price if
he was given passage through the United States’ naval
blockades.

Mexican President Farías,
who was desperately trying to hold his government together,
accepted Santa Anna’s offer as did the United States. When Santa
Anna had safely passed through the U.S. Naval blockade, Farías gave
him command of the army. Once in command, Santa Anna declared
himself president, ordered the arrest of Farías and moved
aggressively to expel the United States from Mexican
soil.

May 18, 1846

Matamoros, Tamaulipas,
Mexico

General Zachery Taylor had
taken the city of Matamoros with no resistance and began the task
of capturing fugitive Mexican soldiers. To gain intelligence, he
had stationed Marina Van Buskirk at the main hospital to
interrogate wounded Mexican soldiers.

When Josiah Whipple appeared
at the hospital, Marina pushed aside the ledger in which she’d been
writing and began looking for something on the cluttered desk.
“General Taylor says that you want a note from me for Thomas. I
wrote one. If I can just find the damned thing. Oh. Wait. I
remember where I put it.” She took an envelope from inside her
blouse and handed it to Whipple. “That should satisfy
him.”

“Well it’s right nice to see
you again too, Marina,” Whipple replied sarcastically. “Yer sure
right, it’s been a long time.”

She stood up and hugged him
perfunctorily then sat back down. “I’ve been talking to shattered
boys with missing limbs for several days, Josiah. It makes
everything else seem unimportant.”

“Mess-kins?”

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten
that I’m a Mexican,” she said sharply.

“Well, shit, Marina. I
didn’t mean nothin’ except to ask if you was talkin’ about Mess-kin
soldiers or American soldiers. I don’t know nothin’ about this dang
hospital, and I ain’t no Mess-kin hater neither, as you should damn
well know.”

“Sorry.” She shook her head.
“Yes. The patients here are Mexican soldiers. Most are peasant boys
who have no idea why they’re fighting. It’s a depressing
place.”

“You sure you wanna do
this?”

“Yes, I’m positive,” she
said emphatically. “I’m very sorry that you had to come all the way
down here for nothing. It really is a shame that my children think
that I can no longer find my own way.”

“Well then, guess I’ll be
goin’ home.”

She smiled. “Have a safe
trip home.”

“Oh, by the way, Sarah
Knight got married. Her name’s Sarah Borginnes now. Or somethin’
like that. She’s startin’ up a hotel just down the road from here.”
He pointed. “Sign’s up already. American House, she calls it. In
case you was interested.”

“Thank you, Josiah. I’ll
visit her after I finish here.”

“Okay. You watch your
own-self, Marina. This here is likely to be a nasty little
war.”

Marina waited until he had
walked out, then she retrieved the ledger and returned to the task
of making notes.

~

General William J. Worth
limped down the stairs and crossed the lobby. “Josiah?”

Josiah Whipple, who had been
staring out the window, turned about abruptly and hurried to meet
the general. “Sorry to bother you, Bill. I know you got more
important matters in negotiatin’ the surrender treaty, and
all.”

Worth shook Whipple’s hand
warmly. “The terms of surrender have already been agreed to and
signed. General Taylor tells me that you’re a Texas Ranger
now.”

“Yes, sir, I am. That’s what
I was aiming to talk to you about. You got a division of Rangers in
your corps and I sure would be grateful if you could get me in
it.”

“Why can’t you go through
regular channels?”

“Well, if the government of
the State of Texas moves as slow as the Republic of Texas done
before it, the war’s likely t’ be over before I’d get my
orders.”

“What about your current
duty assignment? Won’t the Rangers need to replace you?”

“The company I’m with has
another captain in it and the boys have been together long enough
that they don’t hardly need no leaders, let alone two of us. Beside
that, Tom Van Buskirk’s up there and he’s been swore in as a deputy
if things get bad.”

General Worth thought a
moment. “Major is the highest Federal rank that a Ranger can hold.
If you want your previous rank back I can put you in command of a
brigade.”

“I’d rather fight with the
Rangers. I know most all of ‘em and they know me.”

“Would you consider a small
mounted rifle company?”

“That would suit me fine,
General.”

“Good. Major Kingman has
been asking me to fill his open position with a regular army
captain but no regular officer wants to serve with the
Rangers.”

“Why’s that?”

“They say the Rangers are
too undisciplined and reckless.”

“Well that ain’t me. I’m the
soul of discipline and caution.”

“Yes. I remember well how
cautious you were, Colonel.” Grinning, he shook Whipple’s hand
again. “When Win Scott gets into this, I’d like to try to join him.
Not that I have any misgivings of serving under General Taylor.
It’s just that Win and I are close friends.”

“Yes, sir?” Whipple was
unsure of Worth’s point.

“Since you and General
Taylor are so close, I’d consider it a favor if you mentioned that
to him when the time is right.”

“Oh.” Whipple nodded. “Yeah,
sure. I see what yer getting’ at. I’ll be more ‘en glad to do that
for ya, Bill. More ‘en glad.”

~

The American House was a
flat-roofed, three-story stone and adobe building with an arched
entryway above saloon doors. The first floor was occupied by a
cantina and dancehall while the two floors above were divided into
small rooms. Marina made her way through the noisy cantina to the
crowded bar. “I’m looking for Sarah Borginnes,” she said in Spanish
to the busy bartender.

He tipped his head toward
the back. “Office. Next to the stairs.”

“Thank you.” Marina walked
to the small door and knocked.

“Come on in,” Sarah shouted.
“It ain’t locked.”

Marina opened the door and
smiled at the big woman behind the small desk. “You didn’t waste
any time starting a business.”

“I didn’t start it. I just
bought it and changed the name. Sit you down and tell me what you
been doin’ since we last talked.” She pointed at a battered cowhide
couch.

Marina sank wearily into the
lumpy cushions. “Do you have baths here?”

“Yup. But they ain’t very
private.”

“I don’t care. No man’s
going to take any interest in me at my age. I need a room too.
Staying at the hospital is too disheartening.”

“There’s lots o’ better
places than this over on the plaza.”

“This is closer to the
hospital.”

Sarah leaned across her
desk. “Marina, this here is a cat house and a gamblin’ joint. It
ain’t fit for a lady.”