A Texas Promise

by Laura Conner Kestner

  “So you went to the asylum in Cartersville. What did you learn?”

  “Not much,” he admitted. “Can you describe the baby’s mother to me?”

  “Yes, of course. Like I told the sheriff, she was small, reddish-blonde hair, a birthmark beneath her right eye. Was there anyone like that there?”

  Maggie waited, praying that there had been, but she knew in her heart that she’d seen the life draining from Lucy’s eyes.

  “No,” the ranger said. He then gave physical descriptions of the women he’d seen. None of them seemed familiar, but their situation certainly did.

  “It’s all so sad,” Maggie said.

  “It is,” Caleb agreed, “but, at least from what I saw, most of them needed some kind of help. Although I admit it is hard to tell. There was one woman who seemed perfectly sane one moment, then suddenly started shrieking and reaching for me, and babbling about her baby. After a few moments, she stopped talking, stumbled off and started saying some little poem over and over again.”

  Her baby? Maybe Lucy had survived. Maggie leaned forward. “What did she look like?”

  Caleb swallowed a sip of coffee. “Short, skinny, with gray hair that was chopped off.”

  “Poor soul. I don’t recognize her from the description. She might have been kept in some other part of the building I was in.”

  Shaking his head, Caleb said, “Sorry for the confusion. I was saying that it was difficult to know who truly needed help. According to the guards, that woman has been there for years. They said she’d been found in the woods somewhere, tied to a tree. She’d been left there by Indians. As I was walking away, she was huddled up in a corner humming some tune, and mumbling something about wind pudding and rabbit tracks.”

  Compassion welled up in Maggie. “Wind pudding and rabbit tracks? That probably means something to her, but no one will ever know what. How tragic.”

  “Yes,” Caleb agreed. “Now, can you tell me more about the women who were at the asylum in Fair Haven?”

  Maggie told him what she remembered about Mabel and how the woman had offered to create a distraction, and what little she recalled about the others.

  She knew this is what Eli had wanted, for her to talk freely, and she didn’t see any harm in giving them what information she could. Without giving them too much. Gradually the conversation shifted to the subject of Lucinda’s father.

  “I don’t know much about him,” Maggie said. “I’m sorry I can’t help you there.”

  Caleb placed the pencil on the table. “Maggie, this isn’t about helping me. It’s about the baby. I’m sure you want to do what’s best for her.”

  “I really do.” Maggie said, throat tight.

  “Then will you tell me about the father’s family?”

  Guilt settled in on Maggie, as well as resignation. “His name was Anthony Chadwick, and I know that because Lucy called him by his full name every time she talked about him. Always with awe in her voice. Even after everything she’d been through, she was still amazed that the Anthony Chadwick had even noticed her. She said he came from a wealthy family in Fort Worth.”

  “How did she meet this man?”

  “Lucy was a maid in the Chadwick home.”

  Writing all that down, Caleb nodded for her to continue.

  “When her employers discovered what they referred to as ‘her situation’ they demanded that Lucy leave. Not only that, they laid the blame for everything at her feet…sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that their son wouldn’t have been involved in anything…unseemly.” Maggie couldn’t control the derision in her tone, remembering how devastated and alone that Lucy had been.

  “So she was put out of the home,” Caleb said, “but how did she end up in the asylum?”

  “She wasn’t put out, at first,” Maggie said. “The son stood up to his parents, told them he was the responsible party and that he planned to marry Lucy. I never did know all the details about what happened next, because Lucy couldn’t tell it without crying, but the baby’s father died before the wedding. Somehow he fell from his horse and broke his neck. After the funeral his parents wasted no time disposing of their problem. They said that having Little Lucy committed was the most compassionate thing they could think of. After all, they couldn’t put her out into the world in her shameful condition.”

  “What about Lucy’s family? Couldn’t they have come to her aid?”

  “She was an orphan. So you see, I’m all this baby has now.”

  Caleb didn’t argue with her, but Maggie could see that he wasn’t entirely convinced either. She tried to look at the situation from his point of view. He didn’t know her. For all he knew it could be a fabrication. She didn’t want to make things difficult for him or the sheriff, but she wasn’t willing to risk Lucinda’s well-being. Little Lucy had been sick with worry about how horrible the Chadwicks were. She had been frightened of them. And scared for her baby. So was Maggie.

  While he was making notes about their conversation, Maggie asked several questions of Caleb, including how long he’d been a ranger, and if he enjoyed the work—and he graciously answered.

  “So interesting that you and your brother are both lawmen,” she said. “Was it something y’all wanted to do from an early age?”

  Caleb Calhoun stared at her over his coffee cup.

  Uh, oh. This man didn’t seem as intimidating as his oldest brother, but he was every bit as sharp. He knew she was digging for information.

  “I’m not sure how much you know about our family situation,” Caleb said, “but I wasn’t aware that I even had brothers until recently.”

  Maggie felt the heat rise in her face. “I didn’t know that.”

  “We had the same father, but different mothers. We didn’t meet up until earlier this year.”

  Even though Maggie found that intriguing, she was really more interested in discovering all she could about Eli Calhoun’s past. If the man hadn’t been a lawman long, how did he acquire the speed and proficiency with a weapon?

  “Eli came here over a year ago,” Caleb said, “and Nathaniel ended up here about six months later. I met them both over the summer.”

  “That’s fascinating,” Maggie murmured. “Wonder how long Eli’s been a lawman. I hear he’s awfully good with a gun.”

  Again, Caleb Calhoun gave her that appraising look. “You should ask Eli these questions yourself.”

  “Yes, of cou…course,” Maggie stuttered.

  “I’m assuming that you’ve heard that Eli shot and killed some outlaws that were robbing the bank,” Caleb said. “I can tell you that it’s true.”

  He provided few details, but everything he told her matched what Brody had said.

  “And yes,” Caleb added, “he’s fast with a gun. Fastest I’ve ever seen. He’s a good man, good brother and a good sheriff. I trust him with my life.”

  The comment was pointed. She needed to trust Eli, too.

  Ranger Calhoun left a short time later, and Maggie remained at the table. She hadn’t learned everything she’d wanted to know, but she felt a little better about her situation.

  She too, would trust Eli Calhoun with her life.

  She had no choice.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eli headed for the depot as the train whistle sounded in the distance. News of some big-wig politician’s last minute decision to stop in Moccasin Rock had spread like wildfire and the crowd had been building at a steady pace for the past hour.

  But that was always the way. Whether it was a revival, a baptism, a funeral or a carnival, anything out of the ordinary brought folks out in droves.

  Eli hadn’t attended a revival yet, though he supposed he would the next time one was held, but he’d been to plenty of the other events, including a few political rallies—which was more than enough.

  Obviously, not all folks felt that way. It looked like everyone in Moccasin Rock was here. Except for Maggie and Caleb. How was their discussion going? He hoped Caleb had better luck than he had.r />
  Eli reached down and plucked a little freckle-faced boy from the railroad tracks just before the train chugged into view. Eli handed the boy to his harried-looking mother.

  “Much obliged, Sheriff.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Despite the shriek of the whistle and the deafening rattle, people pressed closer, some with hands over their ears, as the train shuddered and screeched to a stop. As the smoke cleared and the last car—draped with flags, banners and bunting—came into view, a small band began playing a rousing patriotic tune. Eli stared at them in astonishment. He hadn’t even known Moccasin Rock had a band.

  People surged toward the back of the train as several men, all nattily dressed and waving to the crowd, stepped out onto the platform of the last car.

  An eager young man with a wide grin and big ears began introducing the illustrious visiting speaker, describing his business experience, his impeccable character, and good old-fashioned horse-sense. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I introduce you to J. L. Slidell, the next senator for the great state of Texas.”

  Eli stifled a yawn as the crowd broke out in wild applause. He doubted if most of these folks had ever even heard of Slidell. He hadn’t.

  Glancing once at the man of the hour—black suit, red vest, black hat—Eli gently, but firmly, began moving people back again.

  He was facing away from the train when the first words left the politician’s mouth. “Hello, folks. So kind of you to join me today.”

  Eli stopped moving. Unable, unwilling, to believe what he was hearing. It couldn’t be.

  Pushing his way deep into the crowd, Eli stopped, turned and reluctantly faced a piece of his past. Jasper.

  His stomach lurched as the man glanced in his direction. Heart pounding, Eli stepped back even deeper into the crowd, tilting his hat down to cover his face.

  He won’t remember you. You’ve changed too much. Strangely, Jasper had hardly changed at all. The blond hair was now silver, but he had that same old easy laugh and carefree grin.

  Bliss made his way through the cheering throng. “If you squeezed all the hot air out of that fellow there wouldn’t be nothing left.”

  “I would like to squeeze the life out of him,” Eli said, realizing that his tone hadn’t matched the carefree jesting of his deputy’s when the old man’s eyes narrowed.

  “Something I should know?”

  “No, everything’s okay.” No sense involving Bliss in whatever was going to happen. And something was going to happen. For a moment he’d been that scared kid again, but only for a moment.

  Where was Nathaniel? Eli had to warn him. Pushing past people he headed toward his brother’s office. Nathaniel had just stepped out, coat in hand.

  Eli wasted no time on a greeting. “Jasper’s here.”

  Nathaniel froze, his eyes revealing the same horror that Eli had felt when he heard the man’s voice.

  Then Nathaniel visibly pulled himself together and put on his coat. “Where?”

  “At the train station. He’s the politician that everybody’s in such a dither over.”

  Nathaniel’s mouth dropped open. “Jasper is J.L. Slidell?”

  “I had no idea,” Eli admitted. “I don’t guess I ever remembered hearing his last name back then.”

  “Me either.” They listened to the roar of the crowd. “What do you want to do?” Nathaniel asked.

  “I want to beat him to a bloody pulp,” Eli said.

  Nathaniel nodded. “What are we going to do?”

  “I’m going to beat him to a bloody pulp.”

  Nathaniel kept that steady gaze leveled at him. He didn’t say anything else; he didn’t need to.

  “That man shot someone,” Eli said. “And somehow or other he needs to pay for what he did.”

  “Agreed. And he especially needs to not win this election. If there’s anything more terrifying than the thought of Jasper as an evil private citizen, it’s the thought of him with power and clout. But we can’t run up and attack him. For numerous reasons.”

  Nathaniel was right.

  In silence, they returned to the depot and watched from the edges of the crowd. People were pressing forward to get a better look at the man of the hour, some even trying to touch him. As if he was a hero. It was disturbing.

  “We have to do something,” Nathaniel muttered.

  “I know,” Eli said. “But he’s surrounded by people. I don’t recognize most of them, so I’m assuming they’re traveling with him. I wasn’t even aware he was still alive, let alone that he’d gone into politics. We need to know everything there is before we make a move.”

  “One person we might ask is the publisher of the Gazette,” Nathaniel said. “Newspaper folk usually know what’s going on.”

  “Couldn’t hurt,” Eli agreed. They looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Luther Tillman, but saw only his young reporter.

  Together they approached the newspaper office, just down the road.

  “Surprised you aren’t over at the train station,” Tillman said when they walked in.

  “Was about to say the same to you,” Eli said.

  The publisher waved a hand. “I heard Slidell’s speech a few weeks ago in another town. Nothing new. I did send my reporter to cover this one, though. If there’s anything particularly newsworthy, he’ll let me know. So what can I do for you?”

  “Maybe nothing,” Eli admitted. “I was thinking while I was standing out there listening to Slidell, that I don’t know much about the man’s past at all. There’s such a big crowd to see him that he must be doing something right. Figured you might have some information about him.”

  Tillman’s gaze was shrewd. “Slidell’s a businessman from San Angelo. He’s owned, or been a partner in, more than half a dozen businesses. Very successful. But a good portion of his wealth comes from his wife’s people.”

  “His wife? I don’t think I’ve heard anything about his family.”

  “He’s married to a woman named Maria Gaetti, owner of Benedetto Boots. They have three children.”

  Luther was bent over the typesetting tray and didn’t see the incredulous looks that Eli and Nathaniel shared.

  It was the last thing they’d expected to learn, but it was exactly what they needed to stop Jasper Slidell.

  * * *

  “Hello, Jasper.”

  The man leaving Bony Joe’s café, cigar in hand, seemed surprised by the too-familiar greeting from the unfamiliar face.

  But he retained his slick politician’s smile as Eli and Nathaniel blocked his path.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Jasper reached into his coat pocket, removed a flyer, and pressed it into Eli’s hand. His practiced smile slipped a little when Eli opened his fingers and let the paper drop.

  “Do you have a problem, Sheriff?”

  “No,” Eli said, “but you do.”

  Frowning, J.L. Slidell looked around him.

  “If you’re looking for your friends, they’re at the station master’s office,” Nathaniel said. “They got a message to meet you there. That’ll give us a few minutes to talk.”

  “Talk about what?”

  The man had no idea who they were. “You don’t remember us, do you?”

  “Of course he doesn’t,” Nathaniel said. “The last time he saw us we were kids.”

  “You’re correct,” the man said, “I don’t know you. And you seem to have me confused with someone else.” His gaze shifted from Eli to Nathaniel and back again. Eli knew the instant he remembered.

  “Unfortunately for you, we’re not kids anymore, Jasper.”

  A look of fear flickered across the man’s face—a mere flash, gone in an instant—before he regained control. Pulling himself up straighter, he gave them that same old lazy smile. “Well, well, it appears that you two survived after all. I would’ve been willing to bet that you died before you hit puberty.”

  “I wouldn’t have given much for your chances of survival either,” El
i said. “The night we left you were in quite a predicament.”

  Jasper’s expression tightened. “Yes, thanks to you, I was. Luckily, I’m a better talker than I am a gambler.”

  Up close, the lines on their old benefactor’s face were more pronounced, and the hair was a little thinner, but it was still the same old Jasper.

  “It’s been a delight catching up with you boys,” he said, “but it’s getting late. What do you want?”

  “I wonder how the citizens of Texas will feel when they hear about your past,” Nathaniel said.

  Jasper shrugged. “Doubt if it will matter one bit. People understand youthful indiscretions.”

  “First of all, it’s not like you were a kid,” Eli said. “And even though it’s true some people won’t blink an eye about you running brothels back in your younger days, they may feel differently about you trying to kill someone.”

  Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, Jasper. That’s a different story. I think they’ll find that particularly interesting. The authorities might not be able to get a conviction after all these years, or even take it to trial, but I have a feeling it will make a difference to the voters.”

  “Especially to Maria,” Eli said softly.

  Jasper jerked back as if he’d hit him. “I should’ve come after you that night,” he snapped. Pulling himself together he gave them another smile. “You’ll never be able to prove a thing. Who’s going to believe you? You were nobodies then, and you’re nobodies now. You’ll be making enemies of some powerful people if you even try to sully my reputation.”

  Jasper was probably right, but Eli wasn’t about to let him walk away. “I’ll take my chances.”

  With a dramatic sigh, Jasper said, “Is it money you’re after? Are you boys strapped for cash?”

  Eli grinned and staggered back. “You wound me,” he said. Then he sobered. “Not that it’d be the first time for that either. We don’t want a thing from you. Except a couple of promises.”