Paxton and the Lone Star (14 page)

Chapter IX

On the whole, Thaddeus Jones decided he'd rather deal with Comanches. At least they were predictable. Feeling sorry for himself, he lit a pipe and worked on getting up his courage to approach the Michaelson wagon. His back was up against the wall and he knew it. He couldn't in good conscience simply strand the Michaelsons, and yet every randy dandy bucko in the territory would be sniffing around and cooking up trouble if he took those women along without a man to ride herd over them. The fact that Elizabeth impressed him as one girl capable of handling just about any trouble didn't make any difference. The problem was, she was equally adept at starting it. So much so that Captain Martin had sent orders the night before to keep her and the rest of the Texas-bound families out of Natchez unless he, Thaddeus, personally accompanied them, and then only on business.

There were no simple solutions. Jones had worked like a dog since the burial the morning before. First, he heard from Scott Campbell that his sons, Dennis and Mackenzie, had offered to marry the girls, but both sisters had declined. When Jones went to them and told them that they could travel with him if they were married, he was sent packing. Lottie he could understand. Talk was she preferred more than one suitor around. Elizabeth, though, ought to have been grateful. Few men sought a girl with a temper like that. She was spinster-bound for sure even if there was a pretty kind of way about her beneath all those men's clothes. Next, with marriage no longer a possibility, he went to town and rounded up a local banker after church and talked him into purchasing the Michaelson wagon, supplies, and deed for a reasonable sum. Back at camp, Hester had been more than willing, but when Elizabeth dumped a bucket of water on the banker's head, he flew into a rage and stamped back to town. If Jones's next ploy didn't work, he had no idea of what he'd do.

“Well? We paying a visit or not?” True said from behind him.

Thaddeus treated the younger man to a jaundiced look. “Always the young with coals 'neath their bootheels, always the old who get burnt. Don't rush me, boy. My name ain't exactly a tuneful harmonizing melody to some folks over that way. In fact, I'd say it sounds more like a rock dropped in soft mud, at least as far as one little gal is concerned.”

“You afraid of a bunch of women?” Joseph asked.

“Not a bunch. Just one, mainly. And another that just may set her sights on you, when she sees you. Fella your size don't come along too often.”

“Suits me,” Joseph said, grinning lasciviously.

“'Course,” Jones snorted, “havin' all your teeth does help.” He looked up questioningly at Joseph. “You
do
still have 'em all, don't you?”

Across the fire, Andrew chuckled.

Joseph glared at him. “Something funny?” He growled.

“No,” Andrew said quickly, taking a prudent step away from his older brother and changing the subject. “I wish Hogjaw was here. You still think we ought to do it before he comes back?”

“Damnation, yes,” Jones said, aghast. “That's the whole point of it. Mentionin' him will be enough. Them ladies catch sight of that flop-faced tree bark he calls good looks, and they won't agree to nothin' but runnin' for their guns.” His head bobbed up and down. “Not that I'd blame 'em. By golly, long as I've known him, I still 'predate a few minutes warnin' afore runnin' into the cuss.”

“If we're planning on staying here all morning,” True broke in laconically. “I'll build up the fire and make some coffee.”

“All right,” Jones said, grunting as he rose to his feet. “Follow me.”

Elizabeth sliced the bacon, arranged the strips in the skillet. She filled a tea ball with coarse, black loose leaf tea mixed with dry cherry bark and rose hips and, as Mamaw used to do every morning, dropped it into the tea kettle and added boiling water. Lottie was seated on a nearby log combing her hair. Her calico dress billowed out around her, cheerfully patterned with tiny blue flowers in contrast to the black armband she wore. She hadn't yet tied the ribbons of her bodice, and her breasts swelled dangerously over the fabric. It was mid-morning. All three had slept late after an argumentative evening and a restless night. The bacon was nearly done and the tea had been set aside to steep before Hester emerged from the wagon and walked to the fire where she stood over Elizabeth. “I want to talk to you,” she said, her face sour with disapproval of her daughter's attire.

Elizabeth looked up briefly in acknowledgment of her mother's presence and went back to the bacon.

“Talking to Beth is like talking to this log,” Lottie offered, patting the wood beneath her. “I've tried, but she's so almighty wise and wonderful that she won't listen to reason.”

“That's because you give all the wrong reasons,” Elizabeth said. “Father wouldn't have listened to them.”

“You are not your father,” Hester snapped, once again angry enough to assert herself. “Your father is dead. I am the head of this family and we will do as I say.”

The bacon was curling at the edges. Elizabeth flipped it piece by piece to let the raw sides brown. “I'm going to Texas,” she finally said. Studiously polite in an effort to ameliorate her intransigence, she poured a cup of tea and handed it to her mother. “The land is part mine, the wagon and supplies are part mine. And my part is for Texas.”

“And what about the part that belongs to me?” Lottie asked.

“Both of you stop it!” Hester said, all too quickly reduced to pleading in the face of their bickering.

“No, Mother. The rest are leaving tomorrow. We have to settle this now.” Hands on hips, Elizabeth left the fire and walked to Lottie. “You tell me, Lottie. Do you have a better idea? What else is there to do? Cross half a continent and end up in Philadelphia in the dead of winter,
if
we can get there, and then try to find some miserable job to wear
us
out? Or maybe stay here and join your friends in Natchez Under the Hill?”

“You have no call to talk to me like that,” Lottie said primly, concentrating on her hair.

Elizabeth was in no mood to be put off. “I'm waiting. What do we do? Where do we go? And with what?”

“I don't know!” Lottie hissed, slamming down her brush. “You tell me. You're the one who got us in this mess. No one will buy our holdings, thanks to you. We can't stay here, we can't go back. We certainly can't go on alone, and Mr. Jones won't take us along with the others, unless—” She stopped abruptly, and hurriedly began tying her bodice laces, having looked beyond Elizabeth to see Jones and a trio of young men heading in their general direction. “Unless he's had a change of heart,” she added.

Hester followed Lottie's gaze, and nervously smoothed the front of her dress. “Perhaps found someone else to buy the wagon and land grant,” she added hopefully. “Now Elizabeth, you stay away from that kettle!”

Thaddeus Jones doffed his hat and kept his distance from the glowering younger daughter of Hester Michaelson. “Mornin' all,” he said.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones,” Lottie said, smiling at the three men accompanying him.

“Like you to meet Joseph Paxton …”

“Ma'am,” Joseph said, tipping his hat to Hester.

“His brother, Andrew, here …”

Andrew's smile took in all three women. “Ladies …”

“And that's True.”

Surprised, True was staring at Elizabeth. “Ah, my pleasure,” he said quickly, his face turning red. “I'm sure.”

Hester summoned a motherly smile. “It's so nice to meet you, gentlemen. My name is Hester Michaelson and these are my daughters, Lottie and Elizabeth.”

Lottie nodded coyly. Elizabeth glared at True.

“Well! Now that everybody knows each other …” Jones rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath. “It seems like the Paxtons here just might be able to help you ladies out of your predicament.”

“How wonderful!” Hester exclaimed, her expression brightening. “I certainly hope so, don't you, girls?”

“How?” Elizabeth asked flatly.

Jones held up a warning hand. “Now don't jump to no conclusions, Mrs. Michaelson. And you, Miss Elizabeth, back off from that kettle and keep your hands clear of that skillet. It ain't what you think, neither, so hear me out.”

Elizabeth hesitated, but replaced the kettle. Lottie flashed a winsome smile that might have been intended for Andrew or Joseph or True. Hester set down her cup of tea and waited expectantly.

“We all know you are between a rock and a hard place,” Jones went on by way of preamble, “and since that's partly my fault and I'm mightily concerned, I been tryin' to do somethin' about it.” Pleased with himself, he allowed himself a smile and plunged on. “Now, it just so happens that I run into a good friend a' mine yesterday, an older gentleman by the name of Ho …” His mind raced for a name, any name. “That is, Mr.
Howard
Leakey.”

“Mr. Jones, will you come to the point of all this,” Elizabeth said.

“Yes, ma'am.” Jones scratched his ear, then his nose. “Well, it turns out that Ho—Howard, that is,” he amended, emphasizing the name again so the boys would be sure to get it right, “a perfect gentlemen of a man I might add, and his nephews here, the Paxtons, is on their way to Texas, too. Between us, we figured it would be a good idea if they threw in with our bunch. It was right about then that I told Howard about your, uh, predicament, and asked if he'd be willin' to help out.”

“How?” Elizabeth broke in again, immediately suspicous.

“I'm gettin' to it. Now, uh … Howard is willin' to take on the responsibility for you three ladies if you'll abide by his directions in every way, and if the boys here is willin' to take on the work, and if a fair deal can be arranged. I told him that from what I'd heard in camp, you Michaelsons bought twice as much land as any other family with us, and he allowed as if there might be room to bargain with that land.”

“The land isn't for sale,” Elizabeth said, shushing Hester.

“We aren't talking about all of it, Miss Michaelson,” True said, stepping forward. “Uncle Howard—” He sneaked a look at Joseph who was stepping on Andrew's foot to keep him from snickering. “—has deed to one parcel of land already. We don't even know if we're going to like your land, so for now we'll just pay you five percent of your original cost as an option on half of it. On the journey, then, we'll act just like parters. You'll be under our protection. We'll see to your stock and wagon, do all the hard work, and in repayment take our meals at your fire, there not being a decent cook among the four of us. Once we reach San Antonio, we'll look at the land. If we like it, we divide the grant to our equal benefit, sharing the choice sites, water and such.

“But I thought you, that is …” Her hopes dashed once again, Hester was on the verge of tears.

“We do not need protection,” Elizabeth replied defiantly, though with a sinking heart, for she knew better. “Especially from the friends of Holton Bagget.”

Lottie's face turned red.

“That's not fair, Miss,” True said. “The only time I ever laid eyes on him was yesterday afternoon. I don't know him at all.”

“But he knows True,” Jones said, facing Elizabeth and speaking to her alone. “The lad here dunked him in the river, so I'm told, when Bagget tried to follow a certain young lady into the street and cause her some harm. Make no mistake, girl, you may be leaving the civilized world behind you, but there are still rules. Not as many as back East, maybe, but held close to nonetheless. Now, harsh I may sound, but the truth is your father was killed in a fair fight that he started, so the rules say the man who killed him bears no fault. On the other hand, them same rules don't hold with shootin' a man in his sleep. That's called murder, and a noose waits the guilty party, be it man or woman.”

Elizabeth looked as if she'd been slapped.

“My God! That's what you were doing with Father's pistol yesterday afternoon when …” The blood drained from Lottie's face as she pictured her sister hanged, and only herself and her mother to carry on. “Elizabeth, you didn't!”

“Unfortunately, no,” Elizabeth snapped, turning on her heel and walking away from the group.

Hester's eyes darted nervously from one to another. “Whatever are you talking about?” she asked weakly.

“It's nothing, Mother.” Lottie hurried to Hester and helped her sit before she collapsed. Falsely cheerful, she took her mother's hands and gently chafed them. “You see, it will work out. Why, the Paxtons and their Mr. Leakey are practically our salvation.” Her animated chatter was meant to bolster her own misgivings as much as to allay Hester's fears. “Such a good idea after all! We have so few choices as it is, and when you think about it, whatever would we do with over two thousand acres? Why, that's over three square miles!”

“But …”

“We're talking about survival, Mama.” Gone for the moment was the flirtatious girl who took nothing seriously but her own pleasure. In her place, now that the stakes were high enough, was an intensely practical woman. “Elizabeth was right. We can't go back. In no time the ground will be frozen, and how would we make it through winter? We can't stay in Natchez either and we certainly can't risk life and limb on some foolish venture alone in the wilderness.”

Hester's voice was tiny, like a child's. “I don't want to go.”

“You have to, Mother,” Lottie said firmly. “And be glad it's worked out so well in the end. There's really nothing to fear, believe me. Not with Mr. Jones and Mr. Leakey and the Paxtons to protect us.” She glanced at Joseph. “I'm certain we'll be safe, and even enjoy ourselves if we only will.”

They could not hear the river, and paid no attention to the singing birds and the laughter of the children in the next camp over. Hester's soft weeping was the only sound, one against which the embarrassed men had no defense except to look away. At last, Jones stepped forward and cleared his throat. “You'll have to decide, Mrs. Michaelson,” he said gently. “We have to know now whether you and your girls will be going with us.”