by Jory Sherman
15
MILLICENT COLLINS STOOD a few feet away from Martin, watching him with a cowled intensity. She dipped her head slightly so that her gaze did not show to the casual observer. She was turned slightly away from him so that she could give him a sidelong glance without his knowing it.
Martin stood under a thick, leafy oak, speaking to Doc Purvis and Al Oltman. Millie could just barely hear what Martin was saying.
“Caroline has a brother, Ken Darnell,” Martin said. “I sent word down south to him, but I guess he didn’t have enough time to get here for his sister’s funeral. Her parents are both dead. I haven’t seen Ken in some time. My man, Tomasito Herrera, has not returned, either.”
“You did the best you could,” Purvis said.
“I know Kenny Darnell,” Oltman said.
“You do?” Martin asked.
“He still has his ranch, but he joined up with the Rangers four months ago.”
“Where is he, then?”
“He was in Austin last week.”
“Is he married?” Martin asked.
“No. And he has no plans. He’s a dedicated Ranger. Wants to fight Indians. Because of his folks.”
“Well, then what is he doing in Austin? He might lose his scalp there, but I doubt if he’ll run into any Apaches.”
“You probably did not hear Houston’s farewell speech,” Al said, “but he was a dying man when he spoke it and he ordered us Rangers down to the border. He wanted to start a fight with Mexico to preserve the Union.”
“I didn’t know that,” Martin said.
“But, since Lincoln got elected by the skin of his teeth, there are greater issues at stake. J. D. Throckmorton and Sam did their best to stave off a secession vote, but they lost. The Germans around Austin all voted to preserve the Union. Now General Twiggs has ordered the Union flag to come down on all Texas forts and military establishments. That has been done, as of last month, so I hear. When I rode to some of them they were flying the Lone Star flag of Texas.”
Purvis nodded somberly. Martin’s mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Seems to me,” Martin said, “somebody already made up my mind for me.”
“There’s not a government office, nor a fort, nor any federal building in Texas flying the Stars and Stripes,” Purvis said. “The Lone Star of Texas waves over all those places where the Union flag once held dominion.”
“Our independence was official on March second,” Oltman said.
“And this is already April of 1861,” Martin said.
“Not only that, but Austin had formed a delegation to apply for membership in the Confederacy,” Purvis said, “but before they could even get to Montgomery, Alabama, the Confederacy accepted Texas as a member.”
“Lincoln’s not going to stand still for that,” Martin said.
Oltman grinned wide.
Millie moved closer to the three men. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw people still gathered at the tables laden with roast beef, potatoes, beets, beans, and other foods. Roy Killian was hemmed in by three women: his mother, Ursula, Hattie, and her daughter, Wanda. He looked lost, Millie thought, or, more properly, trapped. David Wilhoit stood a few feet away from that group, eating from a tin plate that Lucinda had just refilled for him.
Socrates was helping out, carrying plates over to the refuse barrel and scraping them clean, before handing them to Julius, who carried them into the kitchen where Esperanza and Lorenzo were washing them. Millie had been inside the house to look around, curious about how Martin lived, and Esperanza had given her permission to go upstairs to the bedrooms. It was a man’s house, except for Caroline’s room and a couple of others. She saw his stamp everywhere she looked, feeling like a spy, but delighting in every new discovery.
Ken Richman was sitting on a nail keg in the shade, talking to Nancy Grant, who was sitting on a small wooden chair. Ed Wales was drinking whiskey at a table made from boards stretched across two sawhorses under a shade tree. He was talking to other convivial townsmen and there wasn’t a woman within ten yards of the outdoor bar.
“I can’t believe Sam Houston would just stand by and let this happen,” Martin said. “He’s a Union man through and through.”
“And a very ill man,” Purvis said. “But he stepped back, let this happen.”
“Sam said that to oppose Texas becoming part of the Confederacy would lead to civil unrest and he loves Texas too much to see it torn apart,” Oltman said. “Look, Martin, Houston is a great man, but he saw the handwriting on the wall.”
Millie stood behind a small tree, listening to the conversation. She could see Martin, but not Purvis or Oltman, and she watched him in rapt fascination.
“Sam told me he had two choices,” Purvis said.
“You spoke to Houston?” Martin asked.
“Yes. We are good friends. He moved to Corpus Christi, you know. I suggested he do so.”
“What two choices?” Martin asked.
“He could either fight to retain his office under the United States Constitution, or he could, as all of the officials were required to do, embrace the Confederacy and swear allegiance to it.”
“And which did he decide to do?”
“Neither,” Purvis said. “He said he could not swear an oath to the Confederacy since it would violate his allegiance to the Union. And he did not want to be one who had a hand in starting a civil war.”
“That must have started a ruckus in Austin,” Martin said.
“The committee voted him right out of office,” Oltman said. “They put in Clark and Houston was out of a job.”
“Just like that,” Martin said.
Purvis chuckled. “Not quite. President Lincoln offered to send Houston federal troops to help him hold on to his office, but Sam declined the president’s offer.”
Martin let out a low whistle.
“Houston,” Purvis said, “refused to be responsible for shedding any Texan’s blood. He believes too much in Texas and the United States. He is a sad, dying man, I’m sorry to say.”
“It’s a damned shame,” Martin said.
“That’s why we need you to join the Texas Rangers, Martin. Houston believes that we can help both sides through this mess.”
“He does?”
“Yes. The Rangers will have to keep order if the South erupts in war. We will see to it that Texas does not suffer and that Texans are treated fairly.”
“A tall order,” Martin said.
“And it will take some tall men to fill it,” Oltman said.
“You wouldn’t be pushing, would you, Al?” Martin asked.
Oltman suppressed a grin. “You read men, Martin. That’s good.”
“And you don’t answer questions real good.”
“Oh, I answer those that need an answer. You know why I came. The Rangers, right now, are Texas, and Texas is in bad need of them. This war talk isn’t just talk. It’s like a fire burning through the whole country, consuming everything, and everyone in its path. When it boils up high enough, there will be federal troops crossing our borders, and men you and I know are going to fight those troops and a lot of them will get killed.”
“So, what are the Rangers going to do? Just sit back and wait until it’s all over?”
“No, we’ll fight, too, but we’ll fight what needs fighting, not our brothers and uncles and cousins from the North. We’ll fight to keep Texas a republic, if that’s what’s to be. After the war, Houston, and I, think that whoever wins, be it South or North, they’ll want to lay waste to all that reminds them of the war. There will be lawlessness and that’s no good for anyone. The Rangers will uphold the law.”
“Even if the Union wins?”
“Absolutely,” Oltman said. “Houston fought hard to get us into the Union. And, we think, when this trouble is over, Texas will once again be part of a great nation, the United States.”
“You sound like a politician,” Martin said.
This time, Al grinned. Wide. “Well, if I do, I
caught the disease from old Sam, sure enough.”
Martin smiled. “I’ll think it over, Al. Right now I don’t feel much like warring with anyone, even though I’m likely to have one on my hands right quick.”
“Oh? Would that be Matteo Aguilar?”
“You heard?”
“Ken Richman told us something about that, and I talked to Dave Wilhoit, who worked for Aguilar, I gather.”
“Well, it’s something I have to take care of myself.”
“This is just the kind of situation the Rangers are bound to discourage. If the law is on your side, we’ll back you all the way. Sam thinks the war, if it happens, will flush out a lot of land-grabbers like Aguilar. We want to prevent that from happening.”
“In the meantime,” Martin said, “I’m bound to have a little war of my own. It’s between me and Aguilar. I don’t expect the Texas Rangers to fight my battles for me.”
“And what if you’re defeated?”
“I guess Aguilar would own the Box B. Not legally, but if he has my land, who’s going to take it away from him?”
“That’s just my point, Martin. If Aguilar could get away with this, then Texas would be wide open to other land-grabbers. What a man works for and pays for, would no longer be his to keep.”
“You make a good point, Al,” Martin said.
“I’m going to throw in with you, Baron,” Oltman said. “I’ll get a message back to Corpus Christi asking for more men, but I’m siding with you in this.”
“I wouldn’t ask any man to fight my battles for me.”
“It’s not just your battle, Martin. The future of Texas is at stake here. I’ve already checked on your deed. You bought this land fair and square from the Aguilar family. From a previous generation, to be sure, but that doesn’t mean Aguilar has the right to take the land back his family once owned. Not this way, not by force.”
“Matteo doesn’t see it that way.”
“But Texas does, and the Rangers were formed to fight for Texans. Against all enemies.”
“Does that include the Yankees?” Martin asked.
“All enemies.”
“Fair enough. I could use you if it comes to a fight with Aguilar.”
“And you have your son, Anson.”
“No, Anson will be away on ranch business, branding stray cattle.”
There was an awkward silence as Oltman and Purvis digested this scrap of information.
“I see,” Oltman said finally.
Purvis interrupted. “Allen, I think it’s time we returned to town. Have you seen Lorene around? I wonder where she went.”
“Martin, I’ll be back tomorrow,” Oltman said. “Can you put me up?”
“We have a bunkhouse.”
“Fine. So long, then. I hope I can be of help.”
Oltman walked away, but Doc Purvis lingered for a moment.
“Martin, about that blind boy. I wouldn’t make too much of it. He’s probably perfectly innocent of any wrongdoing.”
Martin’s jaw stiffened and his hazel eyes flashed sparks of various hues. “It is not something I want to dwell on, Doc.”
“I understand. Please accept my sympathies for your loss. Good-bye.”
“I hear you’re going to stay in Baronsville, practice there.”
“Yes, I think I’ll enjoy the challenge. The town is growing and you have no physician.”
“I hope you do well. Thanks for all your help with Caroline.”
Purvis nodded and walked away in Oltman’s wake. Martin bowed his head and fought back the tears. His body shook with the spasms of grief.
Millie walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was light and warm. Martin looked up, his eyes wet.
“Huh?” he asked, startled.
“I’m Millie, Mr. Baron. From the Longhorn. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am that you lost your wife.”
“Millie? Oh, yeah. Millicent. Connors, wasn’t it?”
“Millicent Collins, yes. I waited on you at the Longhorn.”
“It was nice of you to come.”
Her hand lingered on his back, slowly slid downward until she let it fall away. Martin turned to her as if to obtain a better look at the pretty young woman.
“I know what it is to lose someone very dear,” she said, her voice low. “Grief is a terrible thing to bear alone.”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m sorry to hear you lost someone, too. Your father? Mother?”
“My husband,” she said.
“You look too young to have been married.”
“I was married young,” she said. “My husband was older.”
“Did you know Caroline?”
“I met her once, in town. She was very nice. A lady.”
“Yes.”
“If there’s anything I can do…”
“I can’t think of anything,” Martin said quickly.
“I know you have servants. A cook, a lady who cleans the house. I met them today.”
“Yes, Lucinda cooks for me. Esperanza does the housework. Did you—I mean, were you, ah, looking for work?”
“I have a job,” she said. “Mr. Richman was kind enough to hire me when I came to Baronsville, having just been widowed recently.”
“Recently?”
“Six months ago,” she said.
“Did you come here to … I mean, the memories…”
“No, well, maybe. Partly. My husband had no family and I wanted to start fresh. Someplace new.”
“And you heard about Baronsville?”
“No,” she said, “not at first. I heard about you, about what you were trying to do out here.”
“Me? Raise cattle, is all.”
Millie moved still closer to Martin, even though she was no more than a step away when she did so. Martin’s back was all but scraping the oak tree and he did not try to move away.
“Oh, you may not know it, Mr. Baron, but people talk about what you’ve done here, what you’re going to do. Everyone says you’re a man to watch, a man with a vision.”
“Who says that?”
“Charlie Goodnight, for one. Others I’ve met.”
“You know Charlie?”
“Yes. Not well, but I met him. My husband worked for him now and again.”
“Well, Charlie’s the man with a vision. He’s given me some good ideas.”
“He said you would someday be the backbone of Texas. That you would be king of all the cattle ranchers.”
“Charlie said that? Well, I’m surprised.”
“You shouldn’t be. I’ve been in town long enough to know that Charlie was right. I know you’ve had troubles, and losing your wife like this is harder than any of them, so I just wanted you to know that I know what you’re going through and to tell you that you should not give up hope, but go on and succeed in your plans.”
Millie looked into Martin’s eyes without wavering or blinking and she saw that he did not avoid her gaze. But the look on his face had changed, from open curiosity to genuine interest. She smiled at him, encouraging that interest.
“I have a hunch there’s more to you than meets the eye, Millie. You’re not only a waitress, are you?”
Millie blushed. “The truth is, Mr. Baron, that I have been schooled in numbers, arithmetic, and I am a keeper of books and ledgers.”
“Books and ledgers, eh?”
“Yes, sir. I worked for an accounting firm in Austin, Balcom and Reynolds.”
“I’ve never heard of them.”
“They handled a variety of accounts, sir, which included banking, businesses, such as mercantile and hardware, and for various vendors and traders, not only in Texas, but in other states and territories.”
“Why did you leave there?”
“They wanted to transfer me to Denver to manage an office there.”
“Doing what?”
“They wanted me to manage the books for a number of sheep ranchers.”
“You didn’t want to do that?”
&nbs
p; “Oh no, I would have loved it. But I love Texas, and, like you, I think cattle will be the future of big business in the West. Not sheep.”
Martin laughed. “Sheep? No. This is not England or Scotland. And we grow cotton. Who needs wool?”
“I think you’re exactly right, Mr. Baron.”
“So you came to Baronsville,” Martin said, “and are working as a waitress.”
“Well, sir, this is not the time…”
“The time for what?”
“I wanted to manage your ranch accounts, Mr. Baron. Did your wife do that for you?”
“Yes, yes, she did. I never even thought of that. Caroline handled the money—what came in, what went out. I never had to bother with that.”
Millie did not tell Martin that, while inside the house, she had looked at Caroline’s small office where she kept the ledgers. All of the figures were there, neat and tidy, and the Box B was barely holding its head up above water.
“Well, I’m sure you can find someone…”
“No, let me think,” Martin said quickly. “I don’t know if I can understand all that, uh, accounting and such. Would you do me a favor?”
“Why, surely, Mr. Baron. What is it you would like me to do?”
“Could you, say, in a few days, come back out here and look over Caroline’s books? Maybe tell me how I stand and all. I’ll gladly pay for your time.”
“Mr. Baron, time is cheap. Everyone has the same amount. If I do look at your books and have any recommendations, you will be paying me for my knowledge, my brains.”
“Hey, hold on, Millie. I didn’t mean…”
“Accounting is a specialized skill, Mr. Baron. Some might even say it’s an art. I’m proud of my ability and my accomplishments. I just wanted you to know what you’re paying for, that’s all.”
Martin’s face creamed over with a sheepish look. He appeared as if all the blood had drained away from his visage and left a pasty complexion.
“Okay, Millie. Let me go through everything in a couple of days and I’ll send for you when I’m ready. You see how I stand and let me know how much I owe you.”
“All right, Mr. Baron. I’ll wait to hear from you in a few days.”
She held out her hand. Martin looked at it in surprise. Then, as if he realized that she wanted to seal the bargain, he took her hand and shook it.
