William wanted to say something more to Hannah, but her retreating figure made it clear that she had ended their conversation. He didn’t like leaving matters as they were. He knew his attitude had put her off once again, and her preaching at him didn’t help him to relent.
Instead, he turned to Lockhart. The man wasn’t a complete stranger. Lockhart had been in the Cedar Springs area off and on prior to the war, and while William had relatively little to do with the man, he knew him nevertheless.
“Lockhart,” William said with a nod.
“Mr. Barnett. I can’t say that I expected to see you in these parts again.”
“And why not? This is my ranch now that my father and brother are dead.”
“I beg to differ,” Lockhart replied, squaring his shoulders. “The law of this land would say otherwise.”
“The Confederate law?”
“Exactly so. Texas is a part of the Confederacy.” Lockhart smiled. “Even if you and your family thought otherwise.”
“Look, I’m not here to discuss the politics of the day. I simply want to know why it is that the Confederacy thought it acceptable to rob me of my land. I intend to fight this as far as I need to in order to see the matter set straight.”
Lockhart sputtered a bit and cleared his throat. “The Confederacy gave this property over to John Dandridge. It was in payment for legal work he did for the governing entities. You have no more claim to this land than the Comanche do.”
“Well, like the Comanche, I’m not easily dissuaded.” William looked out across the ranch yard and shook his head. “I helped to build everything you see here. I worked alongside my father and brother to build a place we could be proud of—a valuable, working ranch to support our family. I won’t allow you or the Confederacy to strip that away on a whim.”
“It was hardly a whim, Mr. Barnett. Your father deserted the South. He forfeited his rights to property here in Texas when he chose to fight for the Yankees.”
“My father chose to fight for the unity of the States. He did not support the existence of slavery, but neither did he concern himself with issues of individual states’ rights. He believed in the sanctity of the union. I, too, believe that to be the best possible situation for our country. However, I did not go to war with that on my mind. I went only as an act of support for my father’s wishes and those of my brother. They paid for their choice with their life’s blood. I will not allow you to exact the price of this ranch, as well.”
“You have little to say on the matter,” Mr. Lockhart replied. “Those men who govern this great state have made that decision.”
“Then I will have to do what I can to change their minds.” William could see that Lockhart was not at all pleased with this response. No doubt he had planned to come and demand William leave the premises and obey the dictates of the Confederacy.
“You will find that very difficult to do. As you probably realized, folks in Cedar Springs aren’t exactly friendly toward traitors.”
“I wouldn’t know, since I’m not a traitor,” William countered. “Look, it doesn’t matter to me that folks understood my father’s decision. God knows I didn’t completely understand it myself. But what I do understand is that my family put blood and sweat into this land, and I won’t let you or anyone else just snatch it away.”
“That really won’t be your decision,” Lockhart said, his tone smug. “The land was taken in a legal manner. My partner—Miss Dandridge’s father—was a strong supporter of the Confederacy, and this ranch was given to him as a reward for his faithfulness.”
“But this ranch wasn’t anyone else’s to give.” William took a step toward Lockhart but kept his balled fists at his sides. “I won’t let you or anyone else steal it away. This is my home and I intend to remain here.”
“Mr. Barnett, Hannah says to come eat now,” Marty called from the doorway.
William held Lockhart’s gaze only a moment longer, then turned and smiled. “We’re coming, Miss Marty.”
Conversation at the dinner table was rather stilted. Lockhart seemed highly offended that Berto and his family, as well as the ranch hands, should be in their company. He looked as if he might say something, then seemed to think better of it. Maybe he wasn’t as stupid as he appeared, William thought.
“It’s been some time since I’ve had fried chicken,” William commented. “I must say this is a real treat.”
“We have whole bunches of chickens,” Andy replied. “They lay a lot of eggs and we kept a bunch of the chicks. Now they’re big enough to eat.”
William smiled. “And I’m mighty glad they are. I don’t recall that there were that many chickens when I went away from here.”
Andy shook his head. “Nope. We brought a bunch with us. Pa likes eggs for breakfast every day.”
“I like ’em, too,” Marty declared.
“I couldn’t agree with you and your pa more,” William replied. “I’m quite fond of eggs myself. My ma used to have a few chickens. She liked to cook up all sorts of things with them. I like bacon, as well. Used to be my mama would fry up big old pans full of bacon and potatoes. Mighty filling.” He smiled at the memory.
Marty nodded with great enthusiasm. “I love bacon and potatoes, too. Hannah sometimes makes them for us.”
“Me too,” Andy agreed. “Hannah says we’re runnin’ out of bacon though. When Pa comes back we’re gonna go hunting for wild boar. It’s real dangerous.”
“That it is,” William said. “I have only done it a couple of times myself. Maybe I could go hunting in your father’s absence and help to restock the larder.”
“Then when Pa gets back, maybe we could all go hunting together,” Andy said with great enthusiasm.
“I hate to remind you,” Lockhart said after taking a portion of cheesy grits, “but the chances of your father’s return are slim to none.”
Hannah’s hand went to her mouth, and Andy looked in confusion to Lockhart. “What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly what I said,” he replied.
“That’s enough,” Hannah said, barely able to get the words out. “Would you care for corn bread, Mr. Lockhart?”
He shook his head. “Do you mean to tell me that you haven’t yet told these children of their father’s capture? The man may well be dead—probably is. You shouldn’t have kept such a thing from them.”
Marty began to cry. “Hannah, is Papa dead?”
Andy’s face was etched in fear. “Is he, Hannah?”
William could see the anger flicker in her expression. “Mr. Lockhart, I would appreciate if you would keep your thoughts to yourself.” She turned to the children. “Our father has been taken by the Union to answer questions about his trip to see Grandmother. We do not know anything else, so stop fretting.”
“Well, that’s hardly the full truth, Miss Hannah,” Lockhart continued. “I believe it’s best to be honest with the young ones. They need to recognize that their father may well not return . . . at least not anytime soon . . . maybe never.”
Marty fell into Hannah’s lap, crying. “I want Papa to come home.”
Andy bowed his head, but William could see that he was fighting back tears. “I believe,” William said, turning to Lockhart, “you should shut up.”
Lockhart’s expression seemed to challenge William’s authority. “Sir, I will have you know that as the partner of Mr. Dandridge, I am responsible for seeing to the welfare of this family. John Dandridge’s last words to me before leaving for the East were asking that I care for his children in his absence. I take my responsibility seriously. The fact that their father is most likely dead is nothing to hide from them. The sooner they accept the truth, the sooner they will be able to move forward with decisions regarding their future.”
William got to his feet as Andy began to sob quietly. “I think you’d better leave.”
Lockhart stiffened. “I do not believe it is your place to request my departure.”
Shaking his head, William pushed back his
chair. “I’m not requesting anything. I’m telling you to go.”
9
Do you think Pa is dead, Hannah?” Andy asked.
Hannah thought he sounded even younger than his eight years. “I don’t know, Andy. The war has taken the lives of many, and it is possible, since Papa went to a place where the fighting was quite fierce. However, it’s also just as possible that our father is safe. We must pray for him and ask God to show us the truth.”
Andy shook his head and fixed Hannah with a worried look. “What if he is dead? What will we do without a pa?”
Hannah had asked herself this question many times over but hadn’t allowed herself an answer. “I don’t know.” She hated to sound so defeated. She wanted answers as much as he did.
Glancing across the yard, Hannah felt a sense of relief that William was occupying Marty. She had cried for some time but had calmed when William took her in hand. It surprised Hannah, but at the same time she didn’t resist his actions. If Marty could be comforted by Mr. Barnett, she would count it a blessing.
“Will we have to leave Texas?” Andy asked.
Again, Hannah had no answers. She thought of Mr. Lockhart’s offer of marriage. If all of her family were dead, what else could she do but marry someone, and do so quickly?
Hannah pushed back Andy’s hair. “I don’t know, Andy. I plan to seek counsel and to pray. I hope you’ll pray, as well. God has the ability to take this situation and work it out to His glory. I don’t know where that will take us, Andy, but we have each other.”
“But you could die, too. You could have died when the Comanche came. Mr. Barnett said it was foolish.”
Hannah held her opinion of Mr. Barnett’s comments and gave a sigh. “It was foolish, Andy. But I felt compelled to do it. I suppose it was one of those things that if I’d had time to think about, I would never have done it.” She knelt in the dirt and took hold of his forearms. “But you don’t have to worry, Andy. I’m not planning to die anytime soon.”
“But nobody plans to die, Hannah.” Andy frowned. “It just happens. You said so yourself when you were talkin’ to me about Ma. You said sometimes these things just happen. I remember it.”
Hannah nodded. “And so they do. But, Andy, please don’t live in fear of such a thing. I can’t promise that I’ll never die, but I do promise to make certain there is provision for your care and Marty’s. You don’t need to be afraid that you’ll be left alone.”
She wasn’t at all sure how to fulfill that promise, but Hannah intended to get an answer to that problem right away. If all else failed, she would marry Mr. Lockhart. If only for the sake of Andy and Marty.
The last thing I ever wanted was a loveless marriage, she thought, then shook her head. No, the last thing she wanted was for any harm to come to her siblings. She was determined to protect them at all costs, even if that meant marrying a man she didn’t love . . . and probably never would.
Herbert Lockhart seethed. How dare William Barnett interfere in his plans? How dare he demand Lockhart leave the ranch? He wasn’t the owner—he had no say there. Yet Hannah had let Barnett order him about.
He pounded his fist on the desk. “I’ve worked too hard to have this fall apart now.”
The paper in his hand was proof of that. He had worked hard to forge John Dandridge’s signature, but the result was worth the effort. Looking from the forgery to the original, Lockhart had to admit he couldn’t tell the difference.
Each page bore the title of “Last Will and Testament,” and each revealed the supposed wishes of John Dandridge. The only difference was that Herbert Lockhart had manipulated the document for his own benefit, rather than that of Dandridge’s children. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Dandridge’s ranch and monies coming to him. If he played his cards right, he would have it all.
The front door to his office opened, and Lockhart was surprised to find Nelson Pritchard. “Nels, what brings you here?” Lockhart asked, quickly putting the pieces of paper in a drawer.
“You hear that William Barnett is back in town?”
“I did. I also saw it with my own eyes. I was out at the ranch just yesterday. He’s out there acting like the cock of the roost.”
“He’s awfully high and mighty for a traitor. I tried to warn Miss Dandridge, but she didn’t seem overly concerned.”
Lockhart leaned back in his chair. “What do you suggest we do about it?”
This question seemed to surprise Pritchard. “Well, I don’t know. What can be done?”
“Seems to me the man is trespassing. Maybe he’s coerced Miss Dandridge into allowing him to take up residence at the ranch. It’s difficult to say, since he doesn’t seem to leave her alone for long.”
Pritchard nodded and took a seat across from Lockhart. “I thought that, too. Seemed he was just a bit too friendly with her.”
Lockhart let out a heavy breath. “Perhaps it’s a matter for the sheriff.”
“Do you suppose so? What kind of charge would you put on Barnett?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I’ll have to give it some thought.” Lockhart wanted to figure something out that would get Barnett out of his hair permanently. Pity he couldn’t pin Dandridge’s death on him.
“Folks around here aren’t going to be too sympathetic to Barnett. His father was a traitor, pure and simple. Ain’t gonna tolerate that.”
“I agree, Nels. I completely agree. This republic . . . state . . . wasn’t created with folks making allowances for such things. Now with the Comanche problems worse than ever, we need to present a united front and stand together. William Barnett and his kind would do better to head north and stay there. Once the war is over and we’ve won the right to govern ourselves, we’ll have an easier time throwing folks like that out of the state.”
“Can’t come soon enough for me,” Nelson muttered. “I don’t abide cowards or traitors. Seems to me there’s a lot of both.”
“You’re right, but it’s a necessary evil that we’ll have to tolerate for the moment. Half the local army is made up of men who didn’t want to take a stand in the war. At least they’re here to kill Indians, but that doesn’t mean we’ll need them once our good men return.”
“No, sir. We won’t have use for them at all.”
Lockhart considered the man for a moment. “You know, you would be within your rights to refuse him service at the store. If everyone acted accordingly, Barnett wouldn’t find it so easy to remain in the community.”
“That’s a good idea, Herbert. A good idea. I’ll get the word out to folks. There’s no sense in encouraging him to stay. Once he sees we all feel the same way, he’ll have to go.”
Smiling, Herbert Lockhart nodded. “Sounds like the start of a plan, Nels.”
Hannah stood in the storeroom just off the kitchen and took inventory of their supplies. Things were getting harder and harder to come by. The blockades in the Gulf and along the Mississippi, not to mention the fact that the Comanche now controlled the Santa Fe Trail, had left Texas struggling to get by. There was plenty of beef, but it was too warm most of the time to keep the meat from spoiling. It didn’t salt as well as pork, although it could be jerked, and smoking it didn’t keep beef as long as it did pork.
They did have the blessing of gardens, and the state was full of fruit trees. It wasn’t all that hard to get oranges up from the south or pears, apples, and figs from nearby. Pecans grew wild down by the river and wild hogs were plentiful, especially to the east of them. Hannah supposed they suffered far less than most in the South. Texas offered a wide variety of benefits within its own borders, and if they could hold the Union Army at bay, they might survive the war with less difficulty than the rest of the country. Sadly, Hannah knew that folks east of the Mississippi were truly suffering. She read about it whenever a newspaper made its way to the ranch, and she feared that if the North had their way, the entirety of the Confederacy would be starved out.
The very thought made her all the more determined to wor
k hard to put aside food for her family. Throughout the summer, Hannah had helped Juanita and Pepita to garden and can what they could. They had managed to raise a nice variety of vegetables, and those would surely see them through the winter months. Even so, other things like flour and salt were going to be harder to come by.
She stepped from the storeroom and closed the door behind her. She continued to study her figures as she took a seat at the kitchen table. If they were careful, they would get through until . . .
“Until what?” she wondered aloud.
Until Father came home? Until the war ended? Until she knew whether or not she’d be forced to marry a man she didn’t love?
“You all right?”
She looked up to find William Barnett watching her from the back door. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“It looked like you were scowling. I figured either you were thinking of me or something was wrong.”
This actually made her smile. “I wasn’t thinking of you. I was taking an account of our food. When Father left, he didn’t intend to be gone more than a few weeks. We worked hard to can and preserve what we could for the winter, but I need to make sure we can get through for however long it takes. I was just realizing that I didn’t know how long that might be.”
William nodded. “The uncertainty makes it difficult for everyone. I hope you know that I mean to help provide. Berto and I were talking about hunting a couple of wild boars and smoking the meat. We have the supplies to make repairs to the smokehouse and I can see to those myself.”
“Too bad you can’t hunt down an animal made of sugar or coffee.”
To her surprise he laughed. He was always such a serious man that it was rather pleasant when he did so. Hannah motioned to his leg. He was rubbing it, and she couldn’t help but wonder at the problem.
“Is it paining you more than usual?”
William glanced down and then stopped rubbing his thigh. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”
Chasing the Sun Page 8
