“I will. I promise.”
The next day, Hannah was surprised when the Terrys stopped by the ranch. Ted and Marietta were driving a wagon and four mounted riders accompanied them.
“Won’t you come in,” Hannah said. “Your men are free to water the horses in back and then join us. I’ll have Juanita put together some refreshments.”
“Don’t worry about going to a lot of bother,” Marietta declared as Ted helped her from the wagon. “We have to keep moving. We’ve mostly come because of this letter for Will, and problems with the Comanche. We were in town last night and heard this letter had arrived. Since we knew we’d be coming this way, we offered to bring it.”
Hannah looked at the official-looking letter. It was addressed to William Barnett and the envelope showed that it was from a judge in Dallas. She felt her stomach clench. “Thank you. I’ll see that he gets it.”
They made their way into the house together while Ted went with the men to water the horses. Hannah was glad for the woman’s presence. She had been struggling with Andy’s sorrow and desperately needed advice.
“Won’t you have a seat?” Hannah said. “I’ll be right back.” She placed the judge’s letter on a small table between the chairs.
She quickly went to instruct Juanita and Pepita, then returned to join her guest. Hannah took the chair across from Marietta. “We had word that my father died.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve been afraid to spend the extra money to buy black dye for the clothes,” she said. Laundry was the furthest thing from her mind, but for some reason Hannah didn’t know what else to say. “The war is causing the price of everything to increase. It seems almost criminal to consider things like mourning clothes.”
“Child, you needn’t worry about traditions at a time like this. Tell me what happened.”
Hannah shook her head. “Mr. Lockhart brought me a letter. It said that Father took ill and that he’d asked this person to write the letter for him. The letter said I should marry Mr. Lockhart right away. It said that this was Father’s wish. At the end of the letter there was a postscript that mentioned Father had died. Mr. Lockhart said he arranged for Father to be buried in Louisiana and that he personally paid the expenses.”
Marietta frowned. “Why was it that Mr. Lockhart had all of this information?”
“I suppose because of his partnership with Father. In fact, he tells me now that he and Father were co-owners in this ranch. The ranch now belongs to him.”
“Hogwash,” Marietta declared. “I do not believe that for a minute.”
Hannah ignored her momentarily and glanced at the envelope on the table. “And now you’ve brought this letter from the judge in Dallas. I can only imagine it has to do with Mr. Barnett’s desire to take back his land and ranch.”
“Most likely that’s the case. When is Will due to be back?”
“I don’t know.” Hannah met the woman’s kind gaze. “They were sure to be up against all manner of trouble. The lieutenant told me that the situation would be quite dangerous.”
“I’m sure they both know how to look out for themselves,” Marietta said, reaching over to pat Hannah’s arm. “I’ve seen Will get himself out of worse. Tyler too. You know those two have been friends for a long while.”
Hannah nodded. “Mr. Barnett told me that Tyler was his first friend when they came to Texas.”
“Well, I’ll have to chide him for that. I was his first friend.” Marietta smiled. “But that will keep. Child, you know that you needn’t worry about the future. As I told you, William would never put you out without somewhere to go. And our offer is still on the table. You are welcome to stay with us.”
“I feel like such a hypocrite. I know God is watching over us, but I feel so alone. I feel like my entire world has collapsed around me. Andy is grief-stricken, and I don’t know how to reach him. Marty is a little better, but the truth of it is, they don’t understand the implications of their father’s death. Unless I marry Mr. Lockhart, should his claim prove true, we would be forced to leave. And even if the ranch reverts to Mr. Barnett, I can hardly stay here and impose upon him.”
“I don’t think William would see it as much of an imposition. I don’t think you would, either,” she said, leaning forward. “I can see that you have feelings for him. You might as well admit it.”
Hannah blushed. “Oh, Marietta . . . I can’t deny that he’s captured my thoughts and that my heart aches for his return. But there are things from the past . . .” Her words trailed into silence.
“Then you should tell him.”
“I can’t. I mean, especially now. The last thing I want him thinking is that I’ve taken on a sudden love for him now that Father is dead.”
“But your love for him isn’t a sudden thing, is it?” Marietta pressed. “I believe it’s been developing for some time. I believe you were already quite smitten with him when you returned from the Comanche village.”
Hannah knew she couldn’t deny the truth. “I felt so confused then. I still am now. Mr. Barnett can make me so angry, and yet at the same time, set my heart aflutter. And then, as I said, there are obstacles . . . the war . . . and his participation. I don’t honestly know if I can forgive him that.”
“Forgiveness is the hardest act of love. Jesus died for just such a gift to us, so how dare we withhold forgiveness from any man—for any reason?”
“I know you’re right,” Hannah admitted. “But I learned that he was at Vicksburg. That is the battle that took the life of my brother and grandfather.”
“Forgiveness is never easy, Hannah, but it is necessary for a life worth living. You can go on in bitterness and anguish over the past, but forgiveness will set you free. You have no way of knowing what responsibility William had in that battle. War is an ugly and painful thing to endure. Both sides have valid points and both sides are just plain wrong. Don’t hold the war against William. He didn’t want to go in the first place.”
“I know that. At least that’s what I’ve told myself over and over.” Hannah’s thoughts seemed to twist and churn. “I’m so confused.”
Marietta chuckled. “Love is like that. No one vexes me as much as Mr. Terry, and no one blesses me more dearly. Love isn’t about never knowing conflict—it’s about making a commitment to endure through the bad times as well as the good. It’s about choosing to forgive mistakes and intentional wrongs. It’s never perfect and never without problems, but it is the most amazing gift God has given us.”
Marietta took hold of her hand. “Hannah, I don’t believe you could ever find a better husband. William Barnett is one of the best men I’ve had the privilege of knowing. And you are exactly what he needs in a wife. You are spirited and strong. You’ll stand your ground with him, yet yield to his wisdom when needed.” Marietta let go of Hannah and gave her time to consider what had been said.
Shrugging, Hannah shook her head. “I’m not very good at yielding, I’m afraid. I suppose that is another worry of mine. Of late, I’ve found myself rather rebellious. My father and I were once quite close. I was, as my mother once told me, the sparkle in his eye.” Hannah smiled. “I could talk to Papa about anything. After Mama died, however, he changed. The sadness of losing Mama caused my father to close himself off. Later, he remarried without any consideration of Benjamin and me, but time proved that our new stepmother was a good woman. She wasn’t all that much older than me, but she was quite wise. She became like a sister to me.
“I was to be married when my stepmother died giving birth to Marty. My father put an end to my engagement, saying I was needed to care for my sister and brother. We moved west and my young man was killed early in the war. Father said I should have been grateful to him for sparing me the sorrow of widowhood, but the loss was mine nevertheless. Even so, I loved my father and knew that he loved us. I wanted to please him, but it seemed nothing did.”
“You poor thing. What a burden to bear.”
“Then when we came here, M
r. Lockhart seemed to fall in step with Father’s demanding nature. He was more subtle, but as the months passed he’s been quite deliberate in pressing his desires.”
“As I told you before, Mr. Terry and I feel that Mr. Lockhart is nothing but trouble. There are rumors about his dealings. In fact, when I was in Cedar Springs those rumors were told to me in great detail. I’m not a gossip so I will tell you only what pertains to me and Mr. Terry. Mr. Lockhart approached us and asked us about selling our ranch. He didn’t say why, but suggested that if we wanted to sell out, he would be of a mind to buy and hoped we’d give him first chance. Mr. Terry told him we had absolutely no interest in selling. Later, when I was speaking with Mrs. Pritchard and mentioned the strange offer, she told me that Mr. Lockhart has been buying up land all around Cedar Springs.”
“I can’t imagine what he wants with all of that land. It’s not like he intends to ranch or farm.”
“Exactly my thoughts on the matter. Mr. Terry intends to investigate further.”
Juanita entered the room with a tray of tea and cookies. “I will serve the men outside,” she told Hannah. “Mr. Terry, he say that would be best.” Hannah picked up Mr. Barnett’s letter so that Juanita could place the tray on the table.
“Mercy yes,” Marietta added. “We’re all trail worn and covered with dust. I probably should have insisted on the same thing.”
“Nonsense,” Hannah said, straightening in her seat. She reached over to take up the teapot and placed the letter beside the tray. “You are perfectly welcome here. You took me in when I was in much worse condition. Put them in the dining room, Juanita.” The woman nodded and hurried from the room. Pouring the tea, Hannah glanced up. “Do you take sugar? We were blessed to receive some of the sugar brought up from Corpus Christi.”
“I like it without, thank you.” Marietta took the cup and saucer.
Hannah then poured a cup for herself, Marietta’s comments on love and forgiveness resonating in her mind. She had scarcely allowed herself to accept her feelings for Mr. Barnett, and the fact that she’d just spilled out her heart to Mrs. Terry surprised her. Perhaps, however, it was a blessing in disguise. By speaking to Marietta Terry, Hannah had had a chance to put her thoughts into words. Not only that, but Mrs. Terry had implied not once, but twice that William most likely had feelings for Hannah. Could that be true? Did she want it to be true?
22
Hannah thought for a long time about the things Marietta Terry had told her. She could see for herself that Mr. Lockhart was obviously planning something—but what? After a restless night, Hannah rose before anyone else. She dressed in an old worn skirt and blouse and then tied on an apron as she made her way down the stairs. She figured to get the stove fire built and start breakfast. Juanita was always so faithful to serve them, but Hannah liked the idea of giving the woman an occasional day or morning to herself.
When Hannah reached the kitchen, she lit a wall lamp and surveyed the immaculate room. Juanita liked to have a place for everything, and she wanted those places to be based on the article’s usefulness. It took very little time for Hannah to find everything she needed.
With the fire built and heating up the stove, Hannah couldn’t help but notice the letter for William. She’d left it on the kitchen table, thinking to later find a place where she could store it until William came home. Now, however, she was drawn to the letter. Her mind whirled with thoughts and fears. Did this letter hold the judge’s decision regarding the ranch?
Though she knew it wasn’t right, Hannah took a butter knife and slit the top of the envelope open. Her hands trembled slightly as she withdrew the letter and unfolded it.
Scanning the lines, Hannah didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. The judge said he’d made a decision regarding the Barnett property and wanted William to be in his chambers in Dallas on January the eleventh. That was just a few days away. Hannah frowned at the familiarities that passed from the judge to William. The two were obviously longtime friends. Would the judge find in favor of William?
“William,” she whispered. When had she begun to think of him as William?
She folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. If asked about it, she would just admit to feeling the need to know if she should pack up the children and leave or remain there on the ranch.
But the letter hadn’t resolved that question at all. Her father was dead, as were the only other members of her family, save Andy and Marty. She was responsible for them, but she had no idea of how she would care for them. The last thing she wanted was for things to become bad enough that she couldn’t keep them with her.
“That won’t happen,” she insisted, moving back to the large bowl she’d placed on the counter. She considered a favorite meal of Andy and Marty’s. She would make flapjacks and cover them with warm peach preserves and sweet cream. It was simple to make, yet a special treat for the children. God knew as well as she did that they deserved something good. Neither had been the same since the news came about Father.
Hannah grabbed her coat and pulled it on. She would need to collect eggs and get cream from the milk house. Stepping outside, she hugged her coat close and crossed the yard to the chicken coop. The chilly morning was rather bleak; the sun was barely peeking over the horizon and the skies were cloudy and gray. Perhaps Andy would see snow after all, she thought.
She saw the black horse that William had planned to have broken by now. The animal was far less skittish, but still quite green. He spied her and hurried to the side of the pen in case she had a treat for him.
“Sorry, boy. Nothing for you.” She gave his velvety muzzle a brief touch, then moved on. Despite the cooler weather, the chickens were laying quite well. Hannah gathered three dozen eggs before heading back to the house. For some reason she paused at the back door and turned to look once again at the land and outbuildings. She loved it here. She would miss it when she was gone.
“When I’m gone?” she wondered aloud. Was this God’s way of preparing her heart for the inevitable? Had He caused her to think of leaving in such a way that it wasn’t if she went, but when?
The damp cold chilled her to the bone and Hannah hurried into the house and closed the door behind her. She didn’t bother to take off her coat. It was colder in the house than she’d realized. Funny, but she hadn’t even noticed the temperature earlier. Perhaps it was just the thought of losing her home that had stripped away her warmth.
Hurrying to wash off the eggs, Hannah quickly went to work mixing batter for the flapjacks. She pulled out a huge cast-iron skillet and then dipped into the drippings can for grease. Before long she had a nice bit of fat sizzling and was able to pour in her cakes. One by one she made a mound of them, and by the time Juanita appeared, Hannah had the peach preserves warming and was beating the sweet cream into a frothy whip.
“You are up very early,” Juanita declared. She already had tied on an apron over a lovely green skirt.
“I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the letter from the judge and finally came down to open it.”
“Mr. William’s letter?” Juanita asked.
“Yes,” Hannah replied. “I thought it might very well be something that would need attention before William returned. Turns out I was right. A judge has asked William to be in Dallas on the eleventh of January for his decision regarding the ownership of the ranch.”
Hannah felt Juanita’s gaze rest on her. “I believe that if William isn’t here, I will go instead. I will also let Mr. Lockhart know and perhaps he can accompany me to Dallas.”
“You should not go. You should wait for Mr. William,” Juanita said, pulling plates from the cupboard. “He would not want you with Mr. Lockhart.”
“Well, he doesn’t have the right to tell me who I can or cannot be with,” Hannah said. “The reality is that no matter what decision is made, this is no longer my home.”
At that point everything suddenly seemed clear. This wasn’t her home. Whether William now owned it or Mr. Lock
hart, this ranch did not belong to her. It was really that simple. She put the whipped cream aside and realized that her only real choice was to take the children and go. If she stayed, William would feel obligated to provide for them.
The small amount of gold in her father’s bedroom would see her through for a short time. Funds were still available in the bank, but they were being depleted quickly. “Can you manage here without me?” she asked Juanita.
“Sí, I finish up. The men, they will come to eat in a few minutes. Should I fry some ham for them?”
“Yes,” Hannah said, nodding. “And feed them without us. I haven’t yet gotten Andy and Marty up. Don’t make the men wait.”
Going to her father’s room, Hannah couldn’t help but worry about where to take the children. If the war were over, she could return to Vicksburg, where at least she had friends and acquaintances. But she knew the town had been ravaged by the battles, and its people were suffering greatly. If she were more skilled with a needle, she might apply to be a dressmaker or offer her help to a tailor. But her sewing was barely good enough for the family.
The room was dark and cold. Hannah lit a lamp and put it on the bedside table. Then she gently touched the Bible that lay atop the dresser. It was unopened, as it had been for many years. Had her father been able to make peace with God? Had he been able to overcome his grief and anger in order to die well?
“Oh, Father, our lives together could have been so different had you just learned to let go of the pain—to forgive and forget the past.”
The words pricked Hannah’s conscience. Would she make the same mistake?
Hannah pushed aside the iron bed. The loose floorboard where her father hid the gold was where the leg of the headboard had once rested. She reached down and used her fingernails to loosen the board and pull it free.
Inside, Hannah found a large black leather pouch. She sat on the floor and spilled out the contents of the bag onto her skirt. She gasped. There was over four hundred dollars in gold. In a time and place where Confederate paper money was losing its value, gold was a blessing and this was a fortune. They could live a long while on this. Hannah noted that among the gold pieces there were also two rings and a folded piece of paper.
Chasing the Sun Page 20
