Chasing the Sun

by Tracie Peterson

  “Ura,” the boy said.

  “That means thank you,” William explained. “In the Numunuu language.”

  “I thought he was Comanche,” she replied, looking oddly at the boy.

  “He is Comanche, but that is not the name they call themselves. Numunuu is what they use. It means the People.”

  “I see. Well, you are very welcome to the food, Night Bear.” She looked to William. “When did he wake up?”

  William covered a yawn. “About ten minutes ago. We hadn’t been talking long when you came in.”

  Just then Berto rushed into the room. “The Comanche are back. They are just beyond the pens—on the hill.”

  Hannah put her hand to her mouth but said nothing. William looked to Night Bear. “It would seem your people have come to take you home.”

  Night Bear ate the remaining piece of one roll and took up the other in his good hand. “I go to them. I make the peace.” He stood, but immediately began to sway.

  William rushed to his side. “You have a head injury. You shouldn’t move too fast. Let me help you.”

  Berto came to offer his assistance. “What do you want to do?”

  “We will help him walk to his people,” William said. “Hopefully, they will see that we are treating him well and perhaps the boy will be able to tell them we are friends.”

  “Comanche won’t be friends with the white man,” Berto declared.

  William knew it was a long shot, but they had to try. “It’s our only choice.” He looked to Hannah, but found she was gone. “Where’s Miss Dandridge?”

  Berto looked around the room. “I don’t know.”

  “I can walk,” Night Bear said, struggling against their hold. “I am not a weak woman.”

  William and Berto let go and waited to see if the boy would fall again. He drew a deep breath, however, and stood his ground. “I will make the peace. You have treated me honorably.”

  They made their way to the hall and then to the front door. William and Berto walked in support beside Night Bear in case he stumbled or lost consciousness. The one thing that amused William was that the boy never lost his grip on the sweet roll.

  To William’s surprise the front door was standing open to the world. He stepped forward with Night Bear, fully expecting to find the Comanche waiting in the yard. Instead, the area looked deserted. They walked around the side of the house, however, and that was when William spotted Hannah.

  She was walking toward the Comanche as if they were long lost friends. She held out her hands, palms up as if to show them she had nothing that could bring them harm. William and Berto stopped. Night Bear did likewise. The Comanche could clearly see him, but what they thought of the situation was yet to be determined.

  William wanted to call to Hannah, but he was afraid of what might happen if he said anything. He watched the breeze play with her long brown skirt as she crossed the open span. What was she thinking?

  He caught sight of a horse and rider separating from the line of some fifteen men. The rider directed the ebony horse slowly down toward Hannah. The warrior seemed in no hurry.

  “That is my father,” Night Bear announced. “Come, we will go to him.”

  William knew that now would be the moment of decision. He had no weapon with him. He’d not even thought to take up his rifle. He didn’t know if Berto had a pistol or knife, but either way they would be no match for fifteen trained Comanche warriors.

  Hannah stopped and waited for the rider to approach her. William couldn’t help but admire her bravery. He hoped that the Indian chief would esteem it, as well. People always said that the one thing that impressed the Comanche was shows of strength.

  By the time William, Berto, and Night Bear reached Hannah, He Who Walks in Darkness had already stopped just a foot away from her. He fixed Hannah with an intimidating stare. His face was painted black with two red stripes at the forehead and chin. It was a sure sign of war.

  “We mean the Numunuu no harm,” Hannah said in a loud, clear voice.

  The chief stared at her for a moment longer. William and Berto held back as Night Bear moved forward. He began speaking in rapid fire Comanche, gesturing with his good arm. He pointed to his head and then his arm. The sweet roll still remained firmly in his grasp.

  “You saved my son?”

  William was surprised to hear the chief speak English so well. Hannah stepped forward, seemingly unafraid.

  “He fell and was hurt. We did what any good Christian folk would do.”

  He Who Walks in Darkness looked beyond her to Berto and William.

  William held up a hand. “Maruawe,” he said in greeting.

  It was a traditional welcome and William could only hope that the chief would accept their friendly gesture. He hoped, too, that the man would listen to his son, who was even now defending the whites who had taken him in.

  God, if you do still care, William prayed, feeling like a hypocrite, we could use some help about now.

  7

  Hannah could scarcely believe her own actions. Why in the world she had done this thing—this very foolish thing—was beyond her. She hadn’t even had time to think when she’d headed out of the house to greet the Comanche. Her only thought had been that if she didn’t act fast, her family might well be killed.

  She looked into the face of the Comanche leader and tried not to let her fear show. The man was fierce looking with his painted face. She could see his piercing dark eyes slowly assess her. This was a man who had no doubt killed many whites. His only concern at the moment was for his son—just as her concern was for Andy, Marty, and the others.

  “We do not wish to be at war with you or the Numunuu,” Hannah said softly.

  “Your people are always at war with the Numunuu.” He did nothing to draw the other warriors to his side but instead looked at his son and spoke in their language.

  Hannah couldn’t help but wonder what the conversation entailed. When Night Bear extended the sweet roll to his father, Hannah very nearly grinned. The boy had been very fond of the cinnamon-and-sugared roll. His father took the offering and sampled it. He nodded with a grunt and several words that Hannah couldn’t understand.

  Looking at Night Bear, Hannah could see that his strength was giving out. She turned to the chief. “Your son is injured. He is lucky to be alive—the blow to his head was quite bad.”

  The Comanche studied her, as if trying to understand all that she had said. William quickly translated. The chief nodded and motioned his son forward. Night Bear extended his right arm and his father pulled him up and onto the horse’s back.

  Night Bear all but fell against his father in exhaustion. The chief looked at Hannah once again. She smiled, hoping he would see that they were sincere in their willingness to be at peace.

  “You are not like most of your people.” He held her gaze a moment longer. “We will leave you in peace.”

  “Ura,” Hannah said, barely able to draw breath.

  The man smiled ever so slightly and looked past Hannah to William. He spoke in the Comanche language, then turned his horse and headed back to the warriors on the hill. Hannah watched him rejoin the others. They conversed for a moment before turning and heading their mounts to the north.

  William came to stand beside her, and Hannah asked, “What did he say to you?”

  “He Who Walks in Darkness said you were the bravest white woman he’d ever known.” William shook his head. “I think you’re the most foolish.”

  Hannah bristled at this. “I was only trying to help.”

  “You could just as easily have been killed. The Comanche were here to get the boy. They didn’t care who they had to kill to do so. Night Bear is the only son of the chief. He was on his very first raid. They would have killed all of us to ensure that boy’s safety.”

  Hannah put her hands on her hips. Her fear was quickly replaced by anger. “But they didn’t. They realized we meant them no harm. I wanted to show them I was willing to risk death in order to pr
ove to them that I meant to be at peace with them.” She felt rather smug. “The way I see it, it worked.”

  “You haven’t lived long in this part of the country, and at this rate you won’t last long.” William shook his head and turned to walk away. “Miss Dandridge, you are a dangerous woman.”

  Hannah watched him walk away and turned to Berto. “Your Mr. Barnett is a strange man.”

  “He is a good man,” Berto said. “He was afraid for you. The Comanche are not, how you say, peace people. They want back their land—their hunting grounds. They are not happy with the whites.”

  “But they have made the peace with us,” Hannah replied. “That should be an encouragement. That should prove that they are capable of negotiating peace with other whites.”

  “Miss Hannah, it is not possible, because the whites will not be at peace with the Comanche. Your people hate their people just as much. You know it is true.”

  Hannah did know this but hated to admit it. She wanted to believe that something special had happened there. Perhaps the start of peace in the entire territory. Wouldn’t it be a marvel if that were the case? Wouldn’t it be amazing if one act of kindness and mercy led to the settlement of the Indian wars?

  To Hannah’s surprise, William stopped and came back to face her. He pointed his finger directly in her face. “You were lucky. That’s all. It wasn’t a matter of bravery or wisdom. What you did was foolish and could have resulted in the death of everyone here. You think yourself clever for having memorized a couple of overheard Comanche words. You probably think you’ve accomplished something miraculous here.”

  Hannah wasn’t about to let him know that she had been considering that possibility. “God knew what He was doing, Mr. Barnett.”

  “God did, yes. But you didn’t. You just walked out here like you were going to Sunday meeting and expected the entire world to see things your way. Too many people have tried to impose their will on others and have died because of it. You imposed your will and could have seen the death of your brother and sister. Their blood would have been on your hands.”

  For a moment Hannah actually considered slapping him. How dare this man come into their lives—a total stranger—and dictate to her how she should conduct herself. It hadn’t been her desire to meet the Comanche chief. She had simply felt compelled—driven, really—to do as she had. It was God’s direction, and Mr. William Barnett was not going to chide her for doing what God had clearly instructed her to do.

  “Mr. Barnett, I’m going to overlook your rudeness and mark it down to fear. I will, however, not be judged by you. God is my judge. He alone determines my steps, and if those steps lead me to stand before my enemy, then that is what I will do. Perhaps it’s what I am doing now.”

  She sidestepped him and headed for the house. Her heart was a mix of anger and accomplishment. All of her life men had dictated her directions. Her father, although kinder prior to her stepmother’s death, had commanded his family much as a general with an army. When he’d made it clear that Hannah would take care of her siblings, he allowed no room for contradiction or protest. Standing up to William Barnett not only felt good, it felt right. Hannah had defended her choice to follow God’s direction rather than man’s, and it made her feel liberated.

  Inside the house, Hannah found Juanita and the children. Andy and Marty ran to her and wrapped themselves around Hannah as if they were drowning.

  “We thought the Comanche got you,” Andy declared. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  “Did they shoot you with an arrow?” Marty asked, pulling back.

  “No. The chief was quite nice to me. He was glad we had taken good care of his son. Because we showed mercy, he showed mercy to us.”

  “God be praised,” Juanita said, hugging Pepita close. “Did they leave?”

  The woman seemed to search Hannah’s face for any unspoken truth. Hannah nodded and hoped her words would put the woman at ease. “The chief is called He Who Walks in Darkness. He is the father of the boy we cared for. He took his son and they left with the other warriors. He agreed to be at peace with us.”

  Juanita let out a heavy breath. “I am so glad. Oh, Miss Hannah, we all were so afraid. Why you go out there?”

  Unwilling to be reprimanded again, Hannah straightened and looked at the foursome. “I felt God telling me to go. I was only trying to be obedient to God. The Bible says in Romans eight, ‘If God be for us, who can be against us?’ I believe that God surrounded me with angels of protection.” She looked at the clock. “But for now, we need to get you fed and start your studies.”

  “Pepita and I will get the breakfast, Miss Hannah.” Juanita and her daughter headed toward the kitchen.

  Hannah looked at her brother and sister and thought again of how close they’d all come to dying. But what should she do now? They had at least a temporary reprieve from Night Bear’s people, but did that mean other bands would leave them alone, as well?

  “Let’s get you two dressed and ready for the day. Come on.” She ushered them back up to the loft, where a pitcher of water awaited them. The loft was arranged quite simply. There were three small beds, two chests for clothes, and a small dresser where Hannah kept her things. Walking to the dresser, Hannah picked up her brush.

  “Sit here while I arrange your hair,” she told her sister. Marty sat obediently while Hannah combed out her long blond hair and plaited it into two neat braids. Next she helped Marty with her stockings and pantalets.

  “Now get your dress and apron on,” Hannah instructed. She left Marty to check on Andy.

  Across the room, Andy was struggling to tuck his shirt into his trousers. Hannah gave him a hand. “Now get your boots on and go do your chores.”

  Andy looked up at her with a worried expression. “Is it safe now, Hannah?”

  She nodded. “Yes. You don’t need to be afraid.”

  “Can we go back down to the wash and see if that steer is still caught in the brambles?”

  Hannah had forgotten that she had yet to mete out Andy’s punishment for his disobedience. She looked at him with tender affection. “I’ll have Thomas and JD check it out. You are not to go down there again unless an adult is with you. Do you understand? Those washes are dangerous places. When the rains come they fill up fast. Night Bear nearly lost his life falling into one. Your disobedience almost cost you your life. Night Bear is a Comanche warrior. He didn’t know that you weren’t his enemy. Mr. Barnett said that he would have shot you had he not fallen from the horse.”

  “I’m sorry, Hannah. I know it was wrong. I promise I won’t do it again.”

  She knelt down beside him. “Andy, I believe you. But you will have extra chores each night after supper for two weeks as punishment. Now get going.”

  He nodded and hurried to secure his boots. Meanwhile, Hannah returned to Marty and helped her do up the buttons and secure her pinafore. The child was hopeless to keep anything clean and the apron was Hannah’s best hope for not having to wash clothes for the child on a daily basis.

  “Are we gonna sew today?” Marty asked.

  “Not today. We have laundry and if there’s time, baking. You are going to help me make a cake today, remember?”

  Marty’s face lit up in delight. “Are we having a party?”

  “Remember, it’s Diego’s birthday tomorrow. We are going to have a cake to celebrate.”

  The little girl clapped her hands. “I’m so happy. I love cake.”

  Hannah laughed. “I love it, too. Come on. Let’s get your shoes.”

  When they joined the others at the table, Hannah could feel Mr. Barnett’s gaze upon her, but she refused to acknowledge him. The memory of his harsh reprimands echoed in her mind, and she was still at a loss as to what they needed to do about his presence at the ranch.

  After grace was offered, however, William spoke up and let her know his plans. “I’ll have to go to Dallas one of these days to check on the situation with the ranch. If you would permit me to remain here, I’d be
much obliged. I’m certain in time we can figure out the legalities of all of this.”

  “Perhaps if you start in Cedar Springs with Mr. Lockhart,” Hannah said, still not looking at the man, “you will get your answers. Mr. Lockhart is my father’s partner in law and real estate. They have a small office in town and I’m certain Mr. Lockhart can assist you in understanding the circumstances.” She didn’t know what to think about William’s request to remain at the ranch. Somehow that didn’t seem right, and yet it also seemed wrong to send him away.

  “I cannot have you stay in the house with the children and me. It wouldn’t be proper,” she said, working up the courage to face him. She met his gaze. “However, if you wish to remain here, then I suppose we could make provision for you in the bunkhouse.”

  She waited for some outburst, but instead William turned to Diego. “You boys wouldn’t mind having another bunkmate, would you?”

  Diego laughed. “Lots of room out there, Boss.”

  William turned back to Hannah. “It would appear the matter is settled. At least for now.”

  She felt a bit of a shiver go down her spine. Somehow she got the feeling that Mr. Barnett was about to change everything. With William Barnett in the middle of her family’s affairs, Hannah wasn’t at all sure she was any safer than she had been with the Comanche.

  “We cannot bake a cake unless we get more flour,” Juanita said. “Do you think the store has any?”

  Hannah shrugged and passed a plate of ham to Berto. “It’s hard to say. The supplies come in so seldom these days. If you can spare me from the wash, I’ll have Berto drive me into town and see what’s to be had. I need to check in with Mr. Lockhart anyway and see if . . . if he’s heard from Father.”

  “I’ll hitch a ride in with you, if you don’t mind,” William said. “My leg makes walking that distance a bit of a challenge.”

  Hannah figured this to be a simple way to make peace with the man. After all, it would be a poor example to continue holding him a grudge. It wouldn’t be the right attitude to show her siblings.