“We’ll do that. I’ve been kept so busy here, what with so many newcomers, we just haven’t had the time to leave town at all. Things are getting pretty busy in San Felipe.”
“I can see that. When I first settled here it was peaceful, and there weren’t many of us. Now with this offer of more free land, people are flooding in.”
“Well, you know how it is. The frontier just keeps pushing west. They’ll surge right through to California some day, mark my words.”
“I don’t doubt that. I’ll let you get back to your work, Howard. Don’t forget our invitation.”
“No, sir, I won’t. Have a good visit now.” The man nodded and went back inside, and Caleb led Sarah to where they had tied wagon and team, taking the baby from her while she climbed up, then handing James up to her.
“I’ll take Lynda to the supply store,” Tom told Caleb. “It’s been a long time since she’s been to town, and your first visit with this Emily should be alone.”
Their eyes met. Tom knew all about Emily Stoner, as did Lynda. But none of them knew about the teenage affair that had exiled a young Caleb Sax from Fort Dearborn. Caleb looked at Lynda.
“Go ahead, Father. I’ll be with Tom. We’ll stay at the supply store and wait for you.”
Caleb looked back at Tom. “Make sure you do just that. These newcomers are troublemakers, and Lynda has been through enough lately. I don’t want her to have any problems. God knows she’s pretty enough to cause a stir and a lot of men around here haven’t seen much in the way of women in a long time. And some of them think an Indian woman is anybody’s property.”
Tom slipped an arm around his sister’s waist. “I can take care of her. We’ll see you in a few minutes.” He whisked Lynda away, determined to keep her busy enough to help her forget her grief. She had argued against coming along at all, but Tom would hear none of it.
Caleb watched them walk off, and again the deep pain of ending Lee’s life quickly moved through his chest, stirring lingering sorrow and guilt. He looked up at Sarah.
“Let’s go find Emily,” she told him. “We’ve all got to get back to the living, Caleb.”
He sighed and climbed up in the seat beside her, nudging the horses forward with a slap of the reins. They headed up the street to look for a cabin with roses around the steps.
* * *
“Caleb!” Emily’s eyes widened as she stood in the doorway, looking at him as though he’d been resurrected from the dead. “My God! Look at you! So healthy and …” Her eyes teared. “Caleb Sax.” She reached out to him and he embraced her.
“Hello, Emily.” No matter what Emily Stoner had been, if not for her Caleb would probably be dead, or at least perhaps still lying paralyzed.
She pulled back, and Caleb studied the thin, scarred face. Even at Emily’s age and all she had been through, there was still that hint of her considerable beauty that had been destroyed by an Indian captor, and the hard life of a prostitute. She was still too thin. She had always been too thin, making her seem even taller than she really was, although that was taller than most women. She wore a plain blue dress, and to Caleb, Emily looked prettier without all the paint on her face she used to wear, even though she was actually a couple of years older than he.
“When I saw Sarah a few weeks ago, it was so wonderful to know that you two had found each other again, and you had a new baby! I told her I would pray for your safety. Thank God you’re all right. What about your son?”
“He’s fine. But my son-in-law was killed—Lynda’s husband.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve not met her yet.”
“She and my son Tom walked to the supply store. They thought maybe this time Sarah and I should come alone. Howard told us how to find you.”
Her face colored slightly. “Howard? You’ve met him?”
He smiled. “He’s a fine man. I’m glad for you, Emily. We both are.”
She stepped back. “Come in.” She reached out for Sarah. “Both of you—or I should say, all three of you!” She took the baby from Sarah. “Oh, how I wish I could have one of these. But the life I led …” She sighed. “How I wish I would have found someone like Howard before then.”
“I told you once you should have tried to get away from that damned life, Emily,” Caleb told her.
She looked up from toying with the baby’s cheek. “I was so sure it was much too late.” She reddened slightly, turning away, thinking that there was a time when she’d wanted Caleb for herself. “Well, if we are to be friends here in Texas, we might as well get things in the open, hadn’t we,” she spoke up. She faced Sarah. “Surely you can imagine … nursing Caleb back to health and all … watching him struggle … feeling all his sorrows … I couldn’t help but have deep feelings for him.” She handed the baby back to Sarah. “But the man was so full of Sarah Sax, there wasn’t much hope, let alone the fact of what I was. Lord knows I was never the kind of woman for Caleb Sax.”
Sarah struggled a moment with a twinge of jealousy. That was the kind of woman Emily was—open, bold. All of it was so many years ago, and they owed this woman so much. The room hung silent for a tense moment, until Sarah gave her a kind smile. “He’s easy to love. And thank God you did love him—enough to work with him and encourage him to walk again.”
Emily looked away. “Well, at least I finally did what he told me to do. I got out of New Orleans and I found myself a man—a hell of a man, I might add.” She turned to face them both then, smiling. “Oh, but let’s not talk about that. It seems so incredible that we’re all here together. Texas certainly attracts all sorts of people, doesn’t it? I never dreamed when I was a young girl growing up at Fort Dearborn that I’d end up in a wild land like this. But I’d live anywhere as long as it means being with Howard. The only thing I couldn’t take was the danger of Comanche. I had to live closer to town.”
She put a hand self-consciously to the pink, puckered scar on her cheek, the brand her Potawatomie captor had given her to show she belonged to him. “I told Howard that if the Comanche ever got hold of me he’d better shoot me. I’ll not go through that kind of hell again.” Her eyes teared again, her conversation nervously fluctuating. “Would you believe it doesn’t matter to Howard? I told him about how I got the scar. I just never told him the other—about what I became after that.”
She turned away, again going to a coffee pot that sat on a grate over hot coals in a fireplace. “Sit down. I have coffee. If I had known you were coming, I would have baked something fresh. I do have some cake from yesterday.”
James began to fuss. “Coffee sounds good,” Caleb answered, inwardly astounded at the change in the woman from when he’d known her. “And it sounds like James could use a meal himself.”
His eyes moved over her as she poured coffee into china cups she took down from a cupboard. “It’s good to see you, Emily, to know you’ve found a husband and you’re happy. There were so many times I was tempted to come back to New Orleans and check on you—let you know I was all right in return. But I married a Cherokee woman and settled here, and God knows trying to make a go of it here takes every hour of every day. A man has little time to get away.”
Emily moved to the table with a tray of cups. She set it down and pulled out a chair for Sarah, then moved around the table to take another chair herself.
“At least we’re all alive—and together in Texas,” Emily said then, reaching out to touch Caleb’s hand. She smiled encouragingly, looking from him to Sarah. “Why, it almost gives me the chills to think of it—the three of us just children at Fort Dearborn—then going in so many different directions, so many miles apart, suffering our own forms of hell, and ending up together again here in Texas. Fate certainly deals strange hands, doesn’t it?”
She looked back at Caleb, and he knew by her eyes she would never say anything about their teenage sexual play at Fort Dearborn. “It certainly does,” he answered. He gave her a smile then. “We really are happy for you, Emily. Come and see us at the ranch when
you can.”
She nodded. “Sure.” She could not help but feel the old twinge, the desire he stirred in her. He had been a young, and, in many ways, totally innocent Indian boy when she first seduced him; a ravaged, heartbroken man when next she saw him; then a badly wounded, nearly dead man the third time. Now he was close to forty but seemed as fine and strong and handsome as that young man at Fort Dearborn, only more handsome and more desirable in spite of added scars and lines of age in the dark skin around his blue eyes. But he belonged to Sarah Sax. He had always belonged to Sarah Sax, even during the years the two had been separated.
Sarah watched the woman’s eyes. Yes, the love was still there. Caleb saw it, too, and watched the two women. “Caleb, why don’t you get the sack of vegetables we brought?” Sarah asked her husband.
Caleb quickly scooted back his chair. “That’s right. I almost forgot.” He let go of Emily’s hand. “Sarah keeps a garden,” he told Emily. “I don’t know how she does it in this soil, but she grows the prettiest vegetables. We brought some for you. God knows fresh vegetables are not easy to come by.”
He walked out and Emily turned to Sarah. “Oh, Sarah, that wasn’t necessary. With such a big family, you must need everything you grow.”
“We can spare some for a friend.” Their eyes held, and Emily, who in her profession had long ago learned to read a look, spoke up.
“No,” she said quietly. “In spite of what I was at the time I helped Caleb, Sarah, we never slept together.”
Sarah reddened. “I never asked—”
“Yes you did. With your eyes. It’s all right. What woman wouldn’t wonder, considering the circumstances? Caleb was just too full of you. He had no interest in anyone else.” She smiled as James began to fuss more. “Feed that poor baby. He looks so underfed.” They both laughed, for James Sax was a very healthy-looking baby with fat hands and knees and a double chin.
Sarah relaxed and opened her dress, covering herself with a blanket as James found his nourishment. But she looked nervously toward the door when she heard wild hollering farther up the street. It seemed that her whole life had been constantly threatened by wars and violence. Sarah looked back at Emily. They were two very different people, yet their lives held many parallels, and now here they both were in Texas.
“Thanks for not letting on to my Howard,” Emily was saying, as she moved to take a cake from another table.
“Oh, we would never do that, Emily. But we both think you should tell him.”
Emily brought the cake over to the table. “I will—some day,” she said quietly. “I just have to get up the courage.” She breathed deeply, meeting Sarah’s eyes. “You’re such a lucky woman, Sarah Sax. Why, I feel honored to have you in my house.”
Their eyes held. “I don’t think we’re so different, Emily, you know. Not deep inside.”
Emily nodded. “Maybe not.”
Caleb walked in then and Emily looked away, picking up a knife to cut the cake. “I’d better eat quickly and get on into town,” he told them, plunking a gunny sack full of raw vegetables onto the table. “Sounds like things might be getting out of hand. I’m a little worried about Lynda and Tom.” He looked at Sarah. “Why don’t you stay here and visit with Emily until I get back. There’s no sense you going to that meeting with the baby and all. He’ll probably want to nap when he’s through eating. I’ll go find Lynda and Tom and go to the meeting, then come back for you. I have a feeling it will be no place for you anyway. I probably shouldn’t have let Tom take Lynda to the supply store.” He sat down to quickly guzzle some coffee.
“All right,” Sarah told him. She jumped a little when another shot was fired. “Just be careful.”
He swallowed and set down the cup, which looked too delicate for his big, dark hand. “I learned to be careful when I was a very small boy,” he answered with a wink.
“Oh, Sarah—Caleb—these vegetables are wonderful,” Emily put in, rummaging through the sack. “How kind of you.”
“You deserve a hell of a lot more than a sack of vegetables,” Caleb told her. “How does a man set a price on being able to walk?”
She looked at him lovingly. “Just being able to call both of you friends—that’s all I need,” the woman answered.
“Well that’s something you’ll always be able to call us,” Caleb answered.
Horses thundered by then, their riders laughing. Caleb glanced at Sarah.
“I’d better get into town,” he spoke up. He moved out of his chair and bent down to kiss Sarah’s cheek. “You stay here and visit—and stay inside.”
“Caleb, you didn’t even have any cake,” Emily told him.
“Maybe later.” He reached across the table, grasping her hand. “It’s damned good to see you again, Emily, and doing so well. We’ll talk more when I get back.” He hurried out then and Emily looked at Sarah.
“He’s restless, isn’t he?”
“Always.” Sarah patted James’s bottom. “He loves his family so much—has so much to protect. It’s getting harder all the time and it worries all of us.”
Emily folded her arms. “Caleb’s a damned good man. I look forward to meeting your daughter and his son Tom when they come back.”
Sarah cradled James in one arm, reaching out with the other hand to sip some of her coffee. “Lynda is pregnant. At least she’ll have Lee’s child to comfort her. We’re all praying she’ll carry to full term and have a healthy baby. She had a miscarriage about three years ago by a gambler she’d been living with.” She met Emily’s eyes. “She had a pretty hard life before she found me, after Byron put her in that orphanage. Poor Lynda learned about life the hard way, at a very young age. She’s been through so much.”
“Well, thank God she did find you. And it’s good that she’s pregnant. It’s too bad about her husband.” She glanced at the doorway. “Caleb still harbor thoughts of killing Byron Clawson?”
Sarah felt her blood chill. “Yes. He doesn’t talk much about it, but I know it’s as fresh in his mind as it was twenty years ago.”
Emily nodded. “That’s the way it is with men like Caleb. I had a feeling time hadn’t eased his hatred of the man. Hate can be a very powerful force, maybe even more powerful than love.” The woman sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “Trouble is, that could apply to my Howard, too. If he ever found out about me, maybe hatred would win out over his love for me. I live with the fear of it every day.” She put on a false smile. “Come on. Have a piece of cake,” she said then, feigning a casual attitude and hoping to keep Sarah’s thoughts off the noise and hollering outside. San Felipe—Texas itself—was changing, perhaps growing too fast. Sarah felt something intangible slipping away, but she could not name it.
Chapter
Seven
* * *
Lynda examined some cloth for baby clothes. The expertise she had developed through seamstress work with her mother in St. Louis and in the clothing factory she’d worked in as a child gave her an eye for good cloth, and an ability to envision a finished product. She held up a soft flannel, studying the tiny flowers.
“That’s very pretty,” came the voice of a young girl behind her.
Lynda lowered the cloth and turned to look into the deep brown eyes of a beautiful girl who could not be more than a year or two younger than she. Her chestnut-colored hair swirled up tidily under a green feathered hat that matched an attractive green dress and cape of the latest fashion. Her skin was fair, her face stunning. Lynda couldn’t help being glad just to see someone her own age. “Hello,” she said.
“Hello,” the girl replied eagerly. “I’m Elizabeth Hafer.” She twisted a tiny purse nervously, glancing around the dusty store. “Everyone calls me Bess. I’m new here. You’re the first woman I’ve seen who’s nearly my age—I think. I’m seventeen.”
“I’m eighteen. My name is Lynda Whitestone.”
The girl smiled and nodded. “Do you live here in San Felipe?”
“No. I live on my father’s ranch. His name i
s Caleb Sax.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Sax?” She searched Lynda’s eyes eagerly. “Then we might be neighbors. My father bought some land near someone named Sax, up along the Brazos River.” It was obvious the girl was eager to talk. “We’re from St. Louis,” she went on. “My mother died and my brother—” She hesitated. This young woman facing her looked Indian. Her own brother had been killed by Indians, but her brother had been a bully and a drunk. Her father never saw that in his son, nor did he see it in himself. He even blamed her mother’s death on what had happened to her brother, but Bess knew it had been caused by her father’s neglect of the woman.
Her mother was sorely overworked on the old farm. Now, suddenly, her father was living the life of a rich man, a life her mother should have been able to lead. Why had he waited until the poor woman’s death to sell the farm?
Bess loved her father. She didn’t like facing some of his bad traits. She loyally overlooked them most of the time. But she couldn’t understand his actions sometimes, and ever since her brother’s death there had been hard feelings between them.
“My brother is dead, too,” Bess finished. “The farm wasn’t doing well, so we came to Texas to start over.”
Lynda picked up the bolt of cloth. “I’m sorry about your mother and brother. Welcome to Texas. It’s a little wild, but I guess it isn’t where we live that counts. Being with loved ones is all that really matters. Your father must be lonely. Are there other children?”
“No. Just me.” The girl looked at the cloth again. “Is it for a nightgown?”
Lynda smiled. “No. It’s for baby clothes.”
Bess brightened. “Oh! Are you going to have—” She reddened. “I guess it’s not nice of me to pry that way. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. Yes. I’m having a baby. I just don’t show yet.”
The girl smiled again. “You and your husband must be very happy.”
Lynda’s smile faded. “My husband is dead. He was killed by Comanche.”
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