Chapter
Five

---

Sarah’s knuckles were red from scrubbing clothes on the rough washboard. Mildred Handel insisted she was not strong enough to help with the laundry, but Sarah was determined to do her share. She and Lynda had been with the Handels for nearly six weeks, and Sarah was beginning to feel like a burden, although Mildred seemed genuinely to enjoy the company of the women and the baby.

James lay in a cradle in the shade of the porch overhang, and Lynda was rocking him with her foot.

“Riders coming,” one of Handel’s men shouted.

Sarah straightened and wiped her hands on her apron. Every time she heard those words she prayed it was Caleb. She walked over to the porch, where Lynda had already risen to watch men approaching on horseback.

There were only three. Sarah’s chest tightened. She walked up beside Lynda and put an arm around the girl’s waist. The men came closer, and the women could see now that one of them was a young boy. The two men were tall and broad—Tom and Caleb.

“Mother,” Lynda whispered. “Where is Lee?”

Sarah just watched as Wil Handel rushed up to greet Caleb and Tom, carrying on with “Thank God’s” that they were all right. He reached up to take young John from his horse and hugged him.

Sarah gave Lynda a squeeze. “Lee must be all right,” she told the girl. “There will be some explanation.”

She let go of the girl and walked down the wooden steps of the porch, hurrying over to John and hugging him. This was not her son, but he was Caleb’s, and that was all she needed to know to love him as her own. She leaned back and touched his hair.

“Johnny, are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

He glanced at Lynda and swallowed, then looked back at his stepmother. “I’m okay.” He swallowed again. “But Lee’s dead,” he said quietly so that Lynda couldn’t hear.

Sarah paled and looked up at Caleb, who was still on his horse. She was shocked by his appearance: the hollowness to his eyes, the sudden aging of his face. The sleeve of his buckskin shirt was torn and covered with what looked like bloodstains.

“Caleb,” she groaned. She glanced at Tom.

“We had more than one run-in with the Comanche,” Tom explained. “Father was hurt, but he is healing.” His dark eyes moved to Lynda, who came stumbling off the porch, her eyes wide with dread.

Sarah turned to Wil Handel. “Take John inside, will you? Let him get cleaned up. And he’s probably hungry.”

“Of course, Mrs. Sax.” He shook his head. “I am so sorry.”

Sarah smoothed her hand through John’s dark hair again. “Go with Wil, John. Everything will be all right now. Thank God your father found you.” She blinked back tears as the boy walked toward the house. Tom was dismounting, but Caleb seemed frozen in place. He was watching Lynda, who just stared back at him with her father’s same blue eyes.

“Lee’s dead,” Lynda finally said. It was not a question. She knew. Tom moved up beside her, taking her arm.

“He died quickly,” he told his sister.

She turned her eyes to Tom. “Where is he? Where is his body?”

Tom glanced at Caleb, who closed his eyes and turned away. Tom sighed and kept hold of Lynda’s arm. “We had to leave him. We had to get out and get out fast, Lynda, or they would have killed us all. We never would have got away.”

He felt her beginning to shake violently. “No … body? I … can’t even bury him here, where I can be close to him.”

“We’re so sorry, Lynda. You know we would never have left him if there had been any choice. He was like a brother to me, and a son to Caleb. It’s bad for us, too. I grew up with Lee.” An aching lump rose in his throat. “We don’t need a body. What’s a body? It’s the spirit that matters, and Lee’s spirit will always be with us, alive in this place. Everywhere we look we will see his smile, hear him laughing. He wouldn’t want you to look at his dead body. He would want you to remember the Lee Whitestone who left here a few weeks ago.”

Lynda barely heard him. Lee! On his last night home they’d made love. His seed was rapidly growing in her womb. This was unreal. Surely he would ride in behind the others any time. Lee was too strong and good to be dead. Not Lee! She needed him. She was going to have his baby. She felt her legs giving way and suddenly Tom was picking her up and carrying her to the house. Someone was screaming Lee’s name. Was that anguished sound coming from her own throat?

Caleb watched, his face stricken with alarming desolation. Sarah walked up to him, concerned about his wounds, but also concerned by the look in his eyes.

“It should have been me,” he groaned, when his eyes finally met hers.

Sarah reached up and touched his leg. “It shouldn’t have been anyone, Caleb. It just happened. There is hardly a settler in Texas who hasn’t suffered some kind of loss at the hands of the Comanche—or from the damned weather or outlaws or disease. It all comes with the country, Caleb, and you love this country. You found family here and have built a home here. These things happen. We both know that.”

He looked at her wearily. “You don’t understand.”

She frowned. “What don’t I understand? Caleb, please get down. Let me help you.”

He wearily dismounted, grimacing with lingering pain. He clung to his horse’s bridle and looked down at her. She looked good, thinner again, beautiful as always. But this homecoming was not the joyful event he had hoped for.

“You all right?” he asked. Even his voice sounded weary.

“I’m much stronger.”

“The baby?”

“Healthy. Beautiful. He’s nearly six weeks old, Caleb.”

He glanced at the cradle on the porch, then closed his eyes when he heard Lynda crying Lee’s name inside. He opened them to look down at Sarah then, swallowing before he spoke.

“I killed him myself,” he told her in a near whisper. “He was … badly wounded … dying. I had no choice, Sarah, I couldn’t … let the Comanche hurt him more.”

Their eyes held, and he watched the horror in hers. He knew she understood it had been a necessary thing but also understood what it had done to him.

She made an odd choking sound, wilting against his chest and hugging him. “Oh, Caleb, my poor darling Caleb,” she groaned.

He moved his arms around her. He needed her strength more than she had ever needed his.

“He was so badly wounded,” he repeated, as though he wanted to be sure she understood. “He was dying … I was afraid the Comanche would …”

She felt him shaking and realized he was crying. “Dear God,” she whispered. “Oh, Caleb.” She knew full well the hell he was going through. This was something that would haunt Caleb Sax forever. Inside he was so gentle, so loving. But the forces of the outside world had turned him into a man who survived by being practical, sometimes vicious, having to make terrible choices. Those choices were complicated by his two bloods. “Oh, Caleb, I wish I knew how to comfort you.”

He breathed deeply, throwing back his head and struggling to regain his composure. “Nothing can. Time, perhaps … or someday seeing Lynda happy again.”

Sarah reached up and touched his face. “She will be. She’s young, Caleb. And she’s carrying Lee’s baby.”

He glanced toward the house again, wet tears still on his cheeks. “I hope she can keep it. It’s important she has it.”

“She’s a strong girl. And she has us.”

He looked down at her. “You, maybe. Me she will hate for taking Lee out there. I don’t ever want to tell her I’m the one who—” His voice choked.

“Caleb, she wouldn’t hate you for that.”

“Yes she would. I don’t want her to know. Only Tom and you know. John thinks he died from the Comanche lance. It’s hard enough facing her without her knowing I slit his throat with my own knife.” The words were spoken bitterly through gritted teeth.

Sarah hung her head. “Caleb, Lee went of his own choice. You could never have kept him home. Lynda knows that. John is his full-blood nephew, Marie’s son. He had to go. Lynda won’t ever blame you for that.” She looked up at him. “It’s like I said. It was this land that killed him, not you—not even the Comanche.”

He looked down at her and touched her face lightly. “And what will this land do to you? What will it do to little James, or perhaps to my Tom, or Lynda?”

“It’s no use wondering all those things. We can only take a day at a time. You love it here, and Tom loves it, too. Lynda will stay because she has us. She has lost Lee, but she has her mother and father, and that’s so important to her. She loves you, Caleb. She idolizes you. She could never hate you.” She took hold of his hand and kissed his palm. “Come inside, Caleb.”

She put an arm around his waist, urging him to come with her. They walked to the porch, where Caleb stopped to look down at his son. He’d saved another son, but at a great expense. Yet he’d, sacrifice anything for his offspring, even his own life. Right now he wished that was what he had given up for John, not Lee’s life. He leaned over and lightly touched James’s smooth cheek. He ached over Lee’s death, yet he had to be glad he was alive, to come home to this.

“He is beautiful,” he told Sarah.

“A little ornery lately. I think he’s having tummy pains. This is the best he’s slept since yesterday.”

He looked back at her, noticing her tired eyes. Delivering and raising a baby in this untamed land was not easy. But Sarah would never complain. She had had the child for him and would do it again. He took a deep breath before entering the house, where Lynda sat in a rocker, bent over and weeping. Tom stood beside her. He looked helplessly at his father, who left Sarah and walked over to Lynda, kneeling in front of her.

“I’m so sorry, Lynda,” he told her, his voice gruff with emotion. “He was like a son. We’ll make a stone for him, in his memory.”

“He … didn’t suffer?” she asked between sobs. “You wouldn’t lie to me? The Comanche didn’t capture him? Torture him?”

Caleb looked up at Tom, then back at Lynda, touching her hair. “No. We had snuck into the tipi where John was kept. We thought there were only two drunken warriors inside. But there was a third.” What was the use telling her it was a woman? “He stabbed Lee with a lance before he or I had a chance to react. Lee died instantly.” He turned and glanced at John, who swallowed back tears and nodded to show he understood that his father wanted Lynda to believe Lee died right away, and not at the hands of a woman.

Lynda threw her arms around her father’s neck. “Hold me, Father,” she wept. “What will I do? What will I do without Lee!”

He stood up, pulling her up with him and holding her tightly. “You’ll do fine. You’re a strong, beautiful, good woman, and you’re carrying Lee’s baby. You will hang on and bear this so you don’t lose that baby, you hear? That baby is the most important thing in the world now, a part of Lee you can keep forever. And you have us. You will always have your mother and father. And some day there will be another man for you. You’re only eighteen. You will love again.”

“No I won’t. Not ever! Not like Lee!”

He patted her back. “Yes, you will. I know the feeling, Lynda. I have loved three women, each for her own special goodness. When I lost Walking Grass and Marie, I wanted to die, too. But somehow we keep going. And then God brought Sarah back to me. And He brought me a daughter I never knew I had, and then blessed us with a new son. Now you’ll give me a grandchild, and we’re still together—still family. You will love again, I promise. And Lee will be looking on and he’ll be happy for you. He’ll always be with us. Men like Lee never die, Lynda.”

She choked in a sob. “I keep thinking … he’ll come riding in soon. Without a body to bury … it’s hard to imagine … he’s really gone.”

Caleb’s jaw flexed against his own desire to weep again. But for the moment he had to be strong for his daughter. He would save his own tears for a time when he was alone. And there would be many more tears for him, as well as haunting dreams for a long time to come. He could still see Lee’s face, his eyes wide with fright and humiliation, his hands reaching for him, hear his voice pleading with him to end his life. How awful was the sting of death. How many more times would he suffer that sting?

Tom carried a handful of fresh biscuits and a bottle of wine to the small hill behind the main house, where the little graveyard for the Sax family was sadly growing. Here lay Marie, her mother, and her son David, as well as the several Cherokee who had died on Sax land, including the fresh graves of those who had died in the fight with the Comanche. And now there was a new grave, only it wasn’t really a grave at all. There had been no body to put there. There was only a stone, bearing the name Lee Whitestone.

They had all been home for two weeks. They had quickly left the Handels to get back to their own land, where Tom took over the hiring of more men, helped clean up the burned debris of the barn, and sent men to search for more wild mustangs to replenish the Sax herd as well.

But it was not easy without the help of his father. Caleb was having trouble with his left arm. It was still very sore. But it was not the arm that kept him from taking over his usual position as master of the Sax land. His spirit was gone. He didn’t seem to care about getting back to normal, and Tom knew why. Caleb Sax couldn’t bear to watch his daughter’s agony. Lynda sat at the grave site every day, barely eating, her tears coming unexpectedly. She slept at her parents’ house, unable to bear staying in the little cabin she had shared with Lee, but she sat up crying half the night, every night. In spite of all the family support, her grief would not leave her, and she had lost weight.

It was all killing Caleb Sax, and Tom decided it was time for it to end. He approached Lynda, who sat alone under an old, gnarled cottonwood that hung over the little graveyard.

“All right, little sister. It’s time to start eating,” he spoke up, going to sit beside her.

Lynda looked up at him. She loved this handsome brother of hers, but right now it irritated her that he had intruded on her desire to be alone and she told him so.

“You’ve been alone too much, Lynda. This is not a time to sit and brood. And if you really loved Lee, you’ll start eating and stay healthy so you can deliver a nice, healthy baby for him. You keep this up and you’ll lose it.”

“Please go away, Tom.”

“No. I won’t go away.” He unfolded the cloth napkin and laid the biscuits in her lap. “They’re still warm. Now get busy. I brought some wine, too, to relax you better. You know Mr. Handel makes the best homemade wine in these parts. You try some. And I want you to start eating, or I’m going to consider it a disgrace to Lee’s memory, the way you are acting. How do you think he would feel if he knew you were neglecting his baby?”

She met his eyes. “Neglecting his baby? I most certainly am not!”

“Yes you are—by not eating. You’re thin as a skeleton. You intend to deliver a baby skeleton?”

A faint smile drifted over her lips and she picked up a biscuit and took a bite. She chewed slowly and could barely swallow it. “What am I going to do, Tom? There is no one in the whole world like Lee.”

“Of course there isn’t, just like there’s no other you or me or Caleb or Sarah. Everybody is different, with wonderful things about them that people miss once they’re gone. Lee was a good man. You think it isn’t hard on the rest of us? He was my best friend, you know. I grew up with him. I knew him a lot more years than you did. I’m damned lost without him.”

She looked at him sympathetically then, reaching out and touching his arm. “I know. I’m sorry, Tom.”

He sighed. “I know the loss is greater for you, but I’m worried about you. Don’t add to your sorrow by losing the baby, Lynda. You are a strong woman. Look at all the other things you went through: that orphanage, the factory and that horrible supervisor you told us about, plus falling in love with a gambler and seeing him killed. Now Lee. But at least you had him for a while. He gave you strength and love when you needed it. And think of all the good things—the miracle of finding your mother and father. Now you’re having Lee’s baby. And you’re so young yet, Lynda, and you are by God the prettiest girl in Texas, even if you are my sister. There will be someone else some day.”

She shook her head. “Never.”

“Never say never when your life has barely begun. Your son or daughter will need a father—and you’ll have needs that will wake up again some day.”

She reddened slightly, looking down at the biscuits. “Without the right man, the needs fade away. All I feel now is … I don’t know … anger, terrible sorrow.”

He pulled the cork from the wine. “The best way to relieve that is by sharing your feelings, not sitting up here all alone letting them fester.” He took a swallow. “Here.”

She took the bottle but wallowed only a sip, then handed it back.

“I’m hurting—we are all hurting,” he told her then. “Especially Father. He thinks he is responsible—thinks he should have gone after John alone. Can you imagine that? He is blaming himself, Lynda. And you aren’t helping things any. Lee was like a son to him, you know, and the only thing worse than losing a spouse is losing a child. I don’t have either one yet, but I can imagine. Why don’t you come down and join everybody again—show Father you are going to get over this. I’m really worried about him. I know you love him, Lynda. But right now you’re killing him. Can’t you see it?”

She looked at him as though surprised. “No, I … I thought Father was getting better.”

“Physically, maybe. But inside he is dying, Lynda.”

She looked away, staring at the house below. “I kept that blue quill necklace all through my childhood,” she said quietly, “trying to envision who owned it. When I first saw Father I felt like I had always known him. And he was so handsome—so wonderful.”

“Well, right now I think you need each other. I thought that first day we got back, when you turned to him, everything would be all right. But since then you’ve drawn up into your own lonely world. Come down and talk to him, Lynda; join the rest of us. If Father doesn’t get some of his spirit back soon, I am afraid he’ll just sit and shrivel up and die. We—”

He stopped, looking below to see a troop of Mexican soldiers riding in from the south. “Look there!”

Lynda leaned up to look. “Mexicans!”

“Come on.” Tom quickly picked up the wine and biscuits in one hand, taking her arm in the other. “Let’s get down to the house.”

Tom hurried her down while several of Caleb’s men moved in to surround the soldiers as they approached the house. Caleb came outside then, his left arm in a sling. He wore cotton pants and shirt, and his long hair was brushed and pulled back, tied into one tail. Sarah stayed inside with James, on Caleb’s orders, but John came out to stand beside his father.

The soldiers rode up close to the front of the Sax home, and Caleb eyed them warily. When these men had been badly needed, they had not come to help. Now they came on a peaceful morning, and Caleb suspected their mission was not to help the settlers.

The leader of the soldiers eyed Caleb in return, studying the sling, turning to glance over at the remains of the burned barn. He turned his dark eyes back to Caleb, curious over the fact that he was Indian.

“I am Teniente Leónes. I would like to see the owner of this place, señor. Would you get him?”

Caleb stepped forward. “You are looking at him.”

The man frowned. “But … you are Indian.”

“Half of me is. My name is Caleb Sax. And you’re a little late. A couple of months ago my place was raided by Comanche. Where is the protection the Mexican government promised us when we came here, Lieutenant?”

The soldier shifted in his saddle, his grand black horse tossing its head. “There are few of us for such a big land, señor. And you Americanos are acting very independent lately. Perhaps you think you do not need us anymore.”

“We’ve done nothing but ask for our rights as Mexican citizens, protection that was promised us. And what does your government do in return for our cooperation? You arrest a man who is very important to us—an innocent man who went to Mexico City in good faith to speak to Santa Anna. You don’t seem to try too hard to remain popular with the American settlers. If you don’t free Stephen Austin soon, there will be big trouble.”

The lieutenant scanned the group of Indians who stood around his men then. He moved his eyes back to Caleb. “You should tell your men to put down their guns, señor,” the man replied. “Or you are right—there will be trouble. Only it will not be between the citizens and my government. It will be trouble for you.”

“I’m used to trouble. Suppose you tell me just why you’re here.”

The Mexican nodded. “I am here at the bidding of our great general and presidente, Antonio López de Santa Anna, who has declared that all Americanos in the Province of Texas must give up their arms to him and promise there will be no more talk against the great country of Mexico, which has been kind to you by letting you come here to settle.”

Caleb’s men looked at each other, hanging on to their pistols and muskets. Tom and Lynda reached the house, where Tom hurried his sister inside through the back door. A moment later he came out the front door to join John in standing beside his father.

“Your kindness stopped when you began allowing men to rot in prison, and when you failed to give us the protection from Indians and outlaws that you promised, Lieutenant Leónes. Take your men and get off my land,” Caleb answered.

Leónes grinned a little. “Everywhere I go, señor, I find such answers. You Americanos are asking for much trouble—more trouble than any Indians or outlaws could give you. Santa Anna will not be happy with the things I have to tell him when we return.”

“I don’t give a damn how happy your presidente is! You picked a damned bad time to come, Lieutenant. The mood I’m in, it wouldn’t take much for me to order my men to shoot you right off that horse. This sling I wear is from a wound I received fighting Comanche, who killed my son-in-law. You go tell Santa Anna he’ll get no weapons from me or my men, and that he had better free Stephen Austin from prison, or he’s going to have some very angry Americans breathing down his neck!”

Leónes shook his head, while his men sat tensely on their horses. There were as many Sax men as there were soldiers, and none of them trusted the cockiness of the Americans. But Leónes remained confident.

“Why make things difficult for yourself,” he told Caleb. “It is so simple. You and your men turn over your arms. We will allow every third man to keep a handgun. We will not leave you completely defenseless.”

“Get out of here!” The words were shouted by Lynda, who surprised them all when she appeared at the corner of the house wielding a musket herself and aiming it directly at the lieutenant.

Caleb turned in surprise.

“Lynda!” Tom scowled at her.

“Put that gun away, Lynda,” Caleb ordered.

The lieutenant grinned. “She is a pretty one,” he sneered. “It would be a shame to have to shoot her.”

Lynda moved closer to her father. “Make them leave, Father, before I pull this trigger,” she sneered in return. “They’re at fault for what happened to Lee—not you—not even the Comanche! Make them leave before I kill the lieutenant!”

Leónes swallowed, losing his smile and thinking what he’d do to her if he were not surrounded by men with guns.

“I mean it, Father. I’ll kill him!”

Caleb smiled a little then, looking at Leónes. “You heard my daughter. You had better go, Lieutenant, or a war with Mexico will start right here. The Americans are doing everything they can to avoid that. Your president seems intent on making it happen.”

“No Sax man is going to give up his weapons,” Lynda sneered. “To give them up means death. I just lost my husband to Comanche, mister. You and your president are not going to leave us helpless!”

Tom stood with his hand on a gun at his side, while Sarah waited inside with a pounding heart. John glared at the soldiers, and Caleb straightened beside Lynda. “You go and tell Santa Anna that if he wants my weapons, he can come for them himself, and the only way he’ll get them then is over my dead body,” he told the lieutenant.

Leónes glared back at him, his dark eyes turning to narrow slits. “You have been warned, all of you Americans. Our presidente is very angry.”

“And so are we,” Caleb answered.

The lieutenant jerked his horse back and turned it, motioning for his men to follow. Caleb’s men moved behind them. “We’ll see that they get all the way off the land,” one of them yelled out to Caleb.

“Start guarding the borders. Make sure they stay off,” Caleb answered.

Lynda lowered the musket, her hands shaking now. She struggled against tears, looking up at her father. “This is what happens when you don’t get out there and take care of your land,” she chided. “When you sit around moping, so do the men, and Mexican soldiers ride right in without anybody knowing it! When are you going to stop sitting around feeling guilty about Lee, Father? You got John back. Lee gave up his life for John. He did what he had to do. Now it’s time for you to do what you have to do and run this place the way it should be run—the way only Caleb Sax can run it!”

Caleb frowned, reaching out and taking the musket from her and handing it to Tom, keeping his eyes on Lynda.

“What is this all about?”

Their eyes held. “It’s about you … and me and Lee. Nobody is to blame, Father. And Lee would hate how you are acting, how I’m acting, too.” She looked down, touching her stomach. “Tom made me realize if I don’t take care of myself, I will lose Lee’s baby.” She met his eyes again. “I want this baby more than anything. And I want things to be as normal as possible again. I want to see you out here giving orders and helping round up some new horses and getting the barn rebuilt. And I don’t want you feeling guilty about Lee. I have never held you to blame.” She looked out at the barn and the disappearing soldiers. “Lee helped you build this place. You’ve got to get it back into shape.” She met his eyes again. “You owe it to those people who are buried up there behind the house.”

A faint smile moved over his lips. “Well, by God, if you aren’t a Sax through and through. I think you really would have shot that man.”

They both smiled. “I never told you how glad I was to see that you and Tom and John at least survived. I feel so selfish. I didn’t even seem to care that you had been wounded, that you had risked your own life. But I did care, Father. This would all be so much more unbearable if something had happened to you, too.”

Sarah walked out onto the veranda then. Lynda turned to her and they embraced. Sarah looked up at Caleb and saw a brighter look to his eyes, saw a little bit of the old Caleb returning. Caleb turned to Tom.

“Let’s go for a ride, son. It has been a long time since I rode the borders and took a look at what needs to be done. And we will hire a few extra men to get the barn built faster.”

Tom grinned. “Chester Stone spotted some beautiful wild horses in the northern valley. You want to go check them out?”

Caleb nodded. “Sounds good to me.” He looked back at Sarah, bending down and kissing her cheek, then Lynda’s. “I will be back by nightfall,” he told them.

“I will be waiting,” Sarah answered, her green eyes shining with love. Their eyes held, and she saw a look there she’d not seen in a while. Caleb Sax was healing emotionally. And that meant he would come back to her in spirit—and body. She felt old sexual urges awakening as she watched him walk off, loving the easy gait of his long legs, loving Caleb Sax with every bone in her body. She just then realized she had never told him she had seen Emily Stoner. They had been so wrapped up in their grief over Lee, it just didn’t seem important. She would have to tell him, tonight. Tonight they would really talk—be the old Caleb and Sarah. The healing had begun. If only there weren’t this worry over Santa Anna and the Mexicans.