Ned nodded. “Got a lame mule.”
Esteban eyed the leaders. “Want us to bring the new team out here?”
“We’re almost in now,” Ned said. “There’s a man here.”
“A passenger?”
“No. He’s here to see you. Says he’s been riding for days and days. He wants to see the captive girl. We gave him some dinner.”
“What man?” Ned asked. Anyone who wanted to see Billie should have gone to Captain Tapley.
Esteban switched his gaze to Ned. “His name is Morgan.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Mr. Morgan. I didn’t expect you for another week.” Ned shook the tall, sandy-haired man’s hand and looked him over. “I was going to go to the fort,” Morgan said, “but it was quicker to come straight here. The things you told us in your letter—well, my mother and sister and I all felt it was conclusive. I didn’t see any reason to wait longer.”
“Did you even get my second letter?”
“I guess not. Have things changed? She’s still here, isn’t she?”
“Yes, but she’s not here at the ranch—she’s about fifty miles away. In fact, I just came from there.”
“I see.”
He looked disappointed, and Ned didn’t blame him. But he didn’t feel like turning around and riding back to the mission.
“It’s only an hour until sundown,” Ned said. “Stay here with us tonight. I don’t drive the stagecoach again for a couple of days. In the morning, I’ll take you to the mission to see her.”
“Thank you,” Morgan said. “I brought an extra horse for Billie. The boys turned them out in one of the corrals.”
Ned nodded. “She will be very pleased. But we’d better make sure they’re put inside the barn tonight. We’ve heard rumors of raids, and I’d hate to have you lose your horses while you’re our guest.”
“The Comanche are at it again?”
“They never stop,” Ned said. “Come in and sit down, Mr. Morgan. Let’s talk about your sister. I’ve learned a little more today, and I know she’ll have much to tell you.”
Morgan paced the length of the dining room and peered out a window. Ned pushed the kitchen door open. Marcos was cutting up a piece of beef.
“Making supper?” Ned asked.
“Si. Beef stew. I’m a little late getting started. Is he staying?”
“Yes. I’ll take him in the morning. You got any coffee?”
Ned wasn’t sure what it was about coffee, but men always seemed to calm down when they had some in front of them. Morgan was no exception. He sank into a chair at the long table where the family took its meals and accepted the mug Marcos brought him. Ned took a piece of cornbread from the mounded plate Marcos set down and reached for the butter dish.
“The boys make good johnnycake. Have some. It’ll be an hour or so until supper’s ready.”
“Thanks.” Morgan took a slab and used the knife Ned passed him to smear it with butter.
Ned studied him as he sipped the brew. Morgan was a hardworking rancher with a weather-hardened face. Lines etched the corners of his watchful hazel eyes.
“You said your mother is still alive,” Ned said.
“Yes. You can imagine her excitement. She wanted to make the journey with me, but I told her I could travel much faster if she waited at home. I imagine she and my wife are sewing and baking up a storm.”
“You must be exhausted, sir,” Ned said.
“Please, call me Jud. And yes, I admit I’m tired. But I was ready to keep riding. To be so close to her—well, it’s hard to wait even one more night, but I’ll probably sleep hard.”
Ned smiled. “She’s eager to meet you.”
“Tell me about her. What is she like now? I know you said she’d forgotten most of her English and her old life, but she seems to have come up with some details. The cat, of all things.” Morgan shook his head.
“Yes, that was God’s doing, I think.” Ned chuckled. “A couple of months ago, I’d have said it was luck, but the nuns keep reminding me that everything comes from God. And I certainly think He placed those kittens in the store at Fort Chadbourne that day. She saw the little orange one and yelled, ‘Fluffy!’ I couldn’t have been more stunned if lightning had struck me.”
“She loved that kitten. It disappeared a few months after Billie did. We still have one of the litter mates, though. She thought the world of Fluffy.” Jud sighed. “These nuns …”
“They’ve cared for her selflessly. I would go so far as to say they’ve saved her life.”
“But you found her.”
“Yes, I believe I saw her first.” Ned leaned back in his chair, remembering the day. “Brownie and I didn’t know what it was at first, lying in the road, so I stopped the team. Didn’t want to run into an ambush. Sister Natalie and Sister Adele were passengers. Sister Natalie hopped out and walked right up to your sister, heedless of the danger.” Ned smiled at the memory of the nun’s courage and bossiness. “She’s fearless, that one. Wouldn’t let me take your sister to the fort. At first I thought that was a mistake, but living at the mission has done wonders for Billie.
Of course, her own attitude accounts for much of her adjustment. She wanted to come back to the white world. They don’t always. But Billie did. Through the years, she kept alive some seed of hope and memory.”
“I just hope she can trust me. I want her to know how much we love her. It must have seemed as though we’d forgotten her and didn’t try to get her back. But we did.” The pain in Jud’s voice spoke to Ned more than his words—of dozens of letters written, hundreds of miles ridden, and thousands of prayers that seemed to bring no result.
“I just want to caution you that it’s possible you’ll be disappointed when you meet her.”
“You still think there’s a possibility she’s not my sister?”
“Well …” Ned stared off toward the window. “My heart says no, but my head says be prepared.”
“Let’s just get there,” Jud said.
Ned nodded. “We will. First thing in the morning.”
Jud Morgan’s eyes had taken on a wistful determination that mirrored what Ned had seen in Billie’s. “I can’t believe we can finally bring her home. We’ve prayed for so long. There were times when I just about gave up. But Ma wouldn’t let me. She refused to think that Billie was dead, or that she wouldn’t want to come back. And she wouldn’t abide with anyone saying it, either. And now it’s true. We owe you a great debt.”
“Not me. Billie got herself away from the Comanche.” Ned shrugged. “I wish I knew more about what she endured in her captivity and could give you all the details, but I can’t. We’re still putting it together piece by piece. But I can tell you this: it was her determination that brought her back.”
They ate breakfast in the gray light before dawn and saddled their horses. Tree had decided to leave the boys in charge and go with them. It wasn’t a stagecoach day, and none of his freight trains were due in. He listed off a string of chores for his sons to accomplish and warned Benito several times to stay alert.
As Ned led his saddle horse, Champ, out of the barn, Reece Jones galloped into the yard on his old pinto.
“Ned! The station this side of Phantom Hill was hit last night. Where’s Tree?”
Brownie, Tree, and Jud Morgan came from the barn, and two of Tree’s boys joined them.
“What happened?” Tree demanded.
“Injuns hit the swing station up the line,” Reece said. “Drove off a dozen head of mules and horses.”
“Anybody hurt?”
“No. The tenders all got in the house in time and barricaded it. A couple of people from the town got in, too, and forted up with them. The Injuns did some yelling and shot a few arrows at the windows, but they didn’t waste much effort on that. They just wanted the horses. And they set fire to the barn where all the feed was.”
Brownie swore.
“Should we bring in all the stock?” Diego asked. “We put the extra mules out
to pasture this morning, Papa.”
“Bring them in closer,” Tree said.
“Better watch out tonight.” Reece shot a stream of tobacco juice to one side. “They might head home for a while, since they got a pretty good haul. But you never know.”
Tree nodded grimly. “Does the station agent have a team left for the next stage up there?”
“Had two mules left. Sam Tunney told me they’d check around and see if they could borrow two more.”
“I can send a couple up there tonight if they need them.” Tree looked at Ned. “You still want to go to the mission?”
“I sure do. But you don’t have to go, Tree. If you want to stay here with the boys …”
“Go, Papa,” Esteban said. “We need to know Quinta is safe.”
Tree turned to Ned. “I think we should take the sisters and the girls to Fort Chadbourne.”
“Maybe. Let’s see how things look between here and there. If the Indians didn’t raid any farther west than Phantom Hill, they may be all right.”
“I hate to leave the boys.” Tree glanced around. Benito had come from the house and heard much of the conversation.
“I’ll stay with ’em,” Brownie said.
“Me too.” Reece pulled his rifle from its scabbard and swung down from his horse.
“All right.” Tree nodded at Benito. “Bring all the stock in now. But stay together. Don’t any of you ride out alone to get stragglers.”
“Si, Papa.”
“Give Reece some grub when you’re done,” Ned said. He checked his cinch strap. “It takes the stage about five hours to get to the mission, but we should be able to make it in three. Jud, you ready?”
“Sure am.”
Brownie stared at Jud’s horse and the one he led on a long cotton rope. “They sure are purty,” he said. “So, those are Morgan horses?”
“That’s right. Our family has always raised them. I’m not a direct descendant of Justin Morgan, but there is a connection if you go way back.”
“He looks stout,” Reece said, eyeing Jud’s gelding.
“He’s a terrific stock horse. I brought the other one for Billie to ride home if she wants. It’s not the same horse she loved to ride as a girl—that one disappeared with her. But he’s a lot like that one.”
“She’ll be tickled,” Ned said. “And so will Quinta—Tree’s little girl.”
Tree led his big black gelding over and prepared to mount.
“You know, Morgan,” Brownie said, “some captives have trouble learning their own culture again when they return. Now, this one’s made great progress, living with the nuns, but she’ll still need some time to adjust.”
Jud swallowed hard and nodded. “I appreciate that, and what you were saying before, Ned. I also know there have been some captured children recovered who didn’t want to return to their families.”
“You won’t have that problem,” Ned said. “Billie nearly died trying to get home. She craves her family. And she made an effort all this time to preserve her identity. She … she grieved when she knew she was forgetting, if you take my meaning.”
Jud nodded. “I think I do.”
Tree hit the saddle and gathered his reins. “Let’s go.”
Ned raised a hand in farewell to the boys, Brownie, and Reece, and trotted Champ out to the road. Tree caught up to him and pushed his black into a gallop. Ned let Champ run too and looked back. Jud Morgan rode along behind, his jaw set. Ned had no doubt he would keep up, even with the extra horse in tow.
Billie helped Sister Marie in the kitchen most of the morning while the four students had their lessons with Sisters Adele and Natalie. She washed the breakfast dishes and swept the floor, after which she made a large pan of cornbread. Sister Marie had shown her several times how to do it just right, the way the sisters liked it, and Billie now felt competent to make this dish by herself.
Sister Riva brought in an armload of firewood from the woodshed behind the kitchen.
“It looks as though your water reservoir is low,” she said to Sister Marie.
Billie kept stirring her batter as Sister Riva hefted a pail and poured it into the tank on the side of the stove. When they kept the reservoir full, they had plenty of warm water for washing.
“I’d better refill the barrels too. Mr. Garza will ask if we’ve kept them full.” Sister Riva took the empty bucket and picked up another near the back door.
Billie longed to be outside—to go even so far as the well with Sister Riva. Perhaps later, when the cooking was finished, one of the sisters or Quinta could go out with her for a short while. She would have to put on the long black robe, but it was worth the inconvenience. Her times outside seemed to come less frequently now. She hoped that when she went to the Morgans’ home she wouldn’t be kept inside all day.
A moment later, running footsteps heralded Sister Riva’s return. She charged through the doorway without the buckets, whirled, and threw the bar in place.
“Sister Riva?” said Sister Marie.
Billie stared at Riva’s hands. The sister gave her what she had been clutching—a Comanche arrow with green markings and distinctive feathers—two black and one white.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Quickly!” Sister Marie said. “Check the front door!” Billie dashed into the corridor and around to the entrance. The door was already barred on the inside, as usual. She hurried back toward the kitchen but paused in the dining room doorway. Sister Marie had interrupted the lessons there.
“She came tearing in with an arrow, Sister. What does it mean? What shall we do?”
The pupils let out some muffled squeals—not Quinta, Billie was sure.
“Girls, silence!” Sister Natalie’s calm voice held the authority they all needed. When they had quieted, she said, “You will go at once to the kitchen with Sister Marie and get into the hiding place.”
“Come.” Sister Marie, her face as white as the band of cloth on her forehead, beckoned to the four pupils. They filed out the door after her, with Sister Adele bringing up the rear. Sister Natalie’s gaze fell on Billie.
“Is Sister Riva all right?”
“Yes.”
“You were not outside with her?”
“No.”
“Where is the arrow?”
“I have it here.”
Sister Natalie held out her hand and Billie placed the arrow in it.
“A Comanche shot this at Sister Riva?”
Billie hesitated. If he’d wanted to hit the sister as she hauled the bucket from the well, he wouldn’t have missed. “He shoot it near her,” she said.
“Where is Sister Riva?”
Billie glanced over her shoulder. “I think still in the kitchen.” Sister Natalie started to walk away, but Billie tugged her sleeve.
“Sister, this not just anyone’s arrow.”
The nun stopped and peered at her. “Can you explain, Billie?”
“This is Peca’s arrow.”
“Peca? The man who wished to marry you?”
Billie nodded, feeling her cheeks flame. She had brought danger to the sisters, and now they had the young girls to consider as well. She should not have stayed here.
“You must get into the hiding place at once,” Sister Natalie said.
“No. Girls go. I help.”
Sister Natalie gazed into her eyes. “All right. We must barricade the doors and cover the windows so they can’t see in. The girls will need their blankets and pillows.”
Sister Riva came from the kitchen.
“Are the girls in the cellar?” Sister Natalie asked.
“They are going down. Sister Marie is giving them some food and water.”
“Good. Are you all right, my dear?”
“Yes, Sister. I was very frightened.”
“Not so frightened that you didn’t have the presence of mind to grab this and bring it with you.” Sister Natalie held out the arrow.
Sister Riva grimaced. “It plunked into the earth beside my foot
. I dropped my water buckets and looked all about, but I couldn’t see anyone. So I grabbed it and ran for the door.”
“They let you go,” Billie said. Peca and his friends were probably out there laughing about it.
Sister Riva smiled faintly. “And I thought God protected me.”
“He did,” Sister Natalie said, “though I’m inclined to agree with Billie. He protected you by letting them not want to kill you, rather than by skewing their aim. Go to the girls’ rooms. Take them their blankets and pillows. And try not to stand near the windows. When the hiding place is closed, come to the chapel.”
Captive Trail (The Texas Trail Series Book 2) Page 20
