Moses Wilson took to Texas life as if he’d been born there and not in faraway Kentucky. He liked the life of a cowboy and ranch hand, comfortable in the saddle. It suited him more than being a farmer back home, although sometimes he missed his folks there. Still, he liked the Double B Ranch very well, and he had two of his brothers there. The youngest of them all, Ezekiel, had grown up into a fine young man who bunked alongside him in the bunkhouse. His oldest brother, Boone, served as top hand and lived with his growing family on one side of a dog trot cabin. Boone had been the reason he came to Texas in the first place. After first hearing the news Boone had been shot and would die, then that he would be hanged for a murder he didn’t commit, Moses hightailed it to Texas. He had figured he might find Boone dead and buried, but his brother beat the odds as well as the murder charge. Moses had come to love Boone’s wife, Rachel, as a sister, and his brother’s two young ones were as dear to him as if they’d been his own children. Jemima, named after their mother, at three, almost four was beautiful and sassy. They called her “Mima.” Their boy, Robert, was named after their long-dead father, but everyone called him Rob. If Moses wasn’t mistaken, Rachel had been breeding again when he left.
He’d just returned from trailing cattle to Abilene, Kansas. When he’d left in the spring, after round-up, Texas had delighted him with the soft green grasses. Even the mesquite, pesky and prickly as it was, had leafed out. Moses first arrived in Texas in stark winter, and spring was always welcome. In South Texas, it didn’t always get as cold or as snowy as back in the Kentucky hills, but he savored the warmth of spring. He’d first come to the ranch in the spring with his brothers at a time of jubilation. It remained the best season, Moses thought. Summer could be very hot and often dry, winter cold and fall wet. Although it rained in spring, that seemed better than the fall rains, which were often chill.
July heat bore down as hot and heavy as a wool blanket as he rode with the other dozen cowboys who’d made the trek, Ezekiel among them. Moses rode lead along with Mac, a Scotsman who had served with Boone in the war and been a cowboy since. Deke – short for Deacon – was the trail boss or point man now, although he understood that Boone had once held the position. Zeke had long since graduated from riding drag at the rear of the herd. Moses craved a long drink of the ranch’s cool well water, his throat as caked with dust as his clothes. Over the more than three months on the trail, he’d grown lean. With any luck, Rachel might cook a feast for their return, and if not, Cookie would provide decent grub at the bunkhouse. Liam’s wife, Maggie, also laid a tasty table, but he’d eaten there less times than he could count on one hand.
If Maggie wasn’t married to his boss, who’d also become a friend, Moses would have fancied her. He admired her dainty German prettiness, with blonde hair and blue eyes. But she was taken, and he’d never poach on another man’s woman, especially not Liam’s. He’d often wished she had a sister closer to his age, but he’d never heard anything about her family except that Liam met her in San Antonio.
“We’re nearly home,” Ezekiel shouted as he rode up beside him. “Ain’t far at all now.”
“I’m glad,” Moses replied. He’d get a good wash, some decent grub not cooked over a campfire, and tonight, he’d sleep in a bed, not on the ground. Most of the time, he didn’t mind the trail, relishing the change of scenery and the comradeship around the evening fire. What he didn’t like was the endless dust, the frequent storms, dangerous lightning, the chance for a stampede, the possibility of rustlers, illness, or the plentiful rattlesnakes. They’d lost a man on the trail this time to bee stings, of all things. Ol’ Matt had been stung multiple times, swollen up, and died. They’d buried him along the trail, but a death was always a somber moment that made a man think about his own mortality.
“Reckon Boone knows we’re coming home?”
Moses gazed ahead, his hand shading his face. “I believe that’s him just ahead,” he told his brother. “Let’s ride to meet him!”
The few cattle, almost all bulls that they brought home wouldn’t be as likely to stampede as a full herd, so Moses kicked his horse, Gypsy, forward. Ezekiel followed suit, removing his hat and waving it above his head as he whooped with delight. Riding at full gallop, they reached Boone, who remained stationary, waiting.
His brother wore a lazy grin and had a lit smoke in one hand.
“‘Bout time you got back. I been lookin’ out for you about a week now.”
Boone would never admit it but he’d likely been worried. After their pa died, Boone had done his best to fill their father’s shoes even though he’d been very young. Having ridden the trail for years, he knew the dangers all too well.
“Weather held us back,” Moses said. “I’m over the moon to get here, though. Trail seemed long this time out.”
“You both look well,” Boone remarked.
“We had a round of the back door trots, though,” Ezekiel added. “Didn’t last long.”
Boone narrowed his eyes as he looked them both over with a sharp gaze. “Dysentery? You’re all right now, though?”
“Right as rain,” Moses said. “How’s the family?”
His brother’s grin faded. “We had a bit of a rough patch, but it’s all good now.”
“What happened?”
“Let’s ride on, and I’ll tell you everything going on at the ranch.”
Hours later, once the horses had been tended and stabled, after Moses and Zeke had cleaned up and then put on fresh clothing, Boone told them all the news.
“Rachel was with child,” he said, eyes sad and voice deep with emotion. “But she lost it, and I thought for a while I might lose her too.”
Moses knew full well how much Boone loved his wife and could imagine how concerned he’d been. “I wish I’d been here for you. Is she well now?”
Boone nodded. “She is, but I think it near broke her heart. She was awful quiet for a few weeks, but she’s perked up some. Having both of you back will likely help. Don’t let on I told you, though, or she might get sad again.”
“I won’t,” Moses said. They were sitting outside under a tall shade tree. “Mima and Rob are doing fine, I suppose.”
“They’re my pride and joy, though they devil me something awful.” Boone’s grin was back. “My baby girl talks as much as Ma ever did. Little Rob is chattering, too. I can even understand him about half the time.”
Moses laughed. “I wonder if she even recollects me.”
“That child? I’m sure she does, Moses.”
Ezekiel sprawled out in the grass. He’d be chigger bitten, but Moses didn’t say a word. The kid was old enough to know better, and he’d itch if he didn’t.
“Any news from Ma and the rest back home?” Zeke asked. As the youngest, he might be the most partial to their mother, although Moses missed her more than he would say. After Boone left, first for the war, then for Texas, he’d become his Ma’s right hand. His other brothers, save Garrett, were all married.
“Not awful much,” Boone said. “Ma’s hankering to see us, she writes.”
Moses digested the information. “Is Ma wanting us home to kill a fatted calf?”
Ezekiel sat up and brushed off dry grass. “Oh, snap, is she?”
Boone shook his head. “Naw, she’s thinking about coming down here one of these days.”
“Horsefeathers!” Moses exclaimed. “Ma couldn’t make that long trip. She’s not much on horseback as it is.”
“I imagine she could manage on the Iron Horse,” Boone said, referencing the train. “Railroads are getting closer all the time, and she’s stubborn enough she just might up and do it.”
“I don’t reckon Ma’s ready for Texas,” he said. Boone laughed.
“More like Texas ain’t prepared for Ma,” he said. “That’s the news from Kentucky.”
“Did we miss anything on the ranch?”
“Liam bought a few new horses up around Austin way and Maggie’s in the family way. He’s looking for a boy this time around, and so is she. He’s sticking closer to home these days – baby’s going to be born come late August, he says. She’s some frazzled and so he got her some help.”
“Did he hire a gal from Laredo?” Zeke asked. “Maybe she can make tamales.”
“Doubtful,” Boone said. “He sent for one of her sisters up to San Antonio. She got here not long after y’all headed up the trail. Name’s Matilda, but they call her “Mattie. You can ride into Laredo for tamales now that you’re back.”
“I can,” the youngest Wilson brother said. “And I likely will once I get my wages.”
“I’m ‘bout ready to mop up a plate of anything, even whistle berries,” Moses said. “We ate cold biscuits for breakfast this morning to head out for home.”
“I’d ask you to supper, but Rachel wasn’t expecting company, so I doubt there’s enough,” Boone said. “But come with me and visit with her a spell before Cookie rings the dinner bell.”
The dog trot cabin sat beneath some tall trees within view of the main ranch house. For now, Boone and his brood lived on one side, and the other remained empty. As they approached, a very small girl rose to her feet on the porch and dashed down the steps.
“Daddy, Daddy,” she cried, her feet flying below her calico dress. She rushed toward Boone, who scooped her up into his arms as she giggled. Then she saw Moses. “Mo-Mo, it’s Mo-Mo.”
The nickname pleased him and he grinned as she held out her hands to him.
“Told you she ain’t forgot you,” Boone said as he handed his girl over. “Not Zeke, neither.”
Mima hugged his neck tight, then showered his cheeks with sloppy, wet kisses. Moses knew the moment she saw Ezekiel because she began chanting, “It’s Z, too! Z came back, too.”
Zeke cuddled his niece with the same affection she had for him.
Moses had loved his niece since she was born, but almost two years ago, he’d stayed at Boone’s because both his brother and Rachel had been down sick with a bad case of influenza. No hand at nursing, Moses had offered to tend young Jemima. Raised in a large family, he couldn’t remember a time when there weren’t little ones trailing around. He rocked her, sang some of the songs he remembered Ma had sung, and made up stories. As little as she’d been, Mima remembered.
The day Rob was born, a year ago, back in January, both he and Ezekiel had entertained the girl. They had taken her for a short visit to the bunkhouse and then to Maggie’s.
“You’re as purdy as your mama,” he told her now. “And near grown up too.”
Mima giggled. “I’m a little gal, Mo-Mo.”
“Could have fooled me.” He raised her high into the air, then spun her about till she screeched with delight. He put her down because his head was spinning, too. As Moses waited for the world to stop so he could get his bearings, Rachel came out onto the porch with the baby.
Rob must be two years old now, he reckoned. The kid had Boone’s brown hair but it surrounded his face with a curly mop. He rode his mama’s hip and gazed at Moses without any recognition. Rachel, however, offered him a small smile.
She looked haggard, he thought, and skinnier than he’d ever seen her. But the welcome in her eyes was genuine, and when she handed her son over to Boone, the look they exchanged warmed his heart. Rachel still loved his brother, he noted, and it was mutual. She hurried down the steps and hugged him, then Ezekiel.
“Welcome home, both of you,” she said. “I don’t have near enough cooked for you to join us….”
“They’ll come for supper tomorrow,” Boone told her. “We can have beefsteak with beans, maybe biscuits.”
Moses laughed at the joke since the fare they’d eaten for months on the trail was the same.
“No, we won’t,” Rachel said. “I’ll kill a couple chickens and fry them.”
“You don’t have to go to all that fuss,” Moses replied, although the idea of fried chicken made his mouth water. “We ain’t picky.”
“Pshaw,” she said with a light laugh. “You both missed the Fourth of July, still out there. I’m happy to cook. I’m glad you’re both back safe. I worry when you’re out on the trail.”
Boone joined his wife, and with his son tucked in one arm, he slung the other around her shoulders. “You worry all of the time, honey, about everyone.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “You give me good reason, Boone Wilson.”
They made casual talk until Mima hung on her mama’s skirts, and the baby began to fuss with hunger. Realizing it was likely supper time, Moses made his excuses and headed back toward the bunkhouse with Ezekiel in tow. Midway there, he stopped.
“I think I’ll go swap howdys with Liam,” he told his younger brother. “Then I’m beat. I’ll be heading for some grub and bed.”
“I’m hungry enough to eat my boots,” the kid said. “I’ll see you there.”
Moses ambled toward the ranch house, eager to share a few trail stories with Liam. Deke, as trail boss, would have already made a report, but he’d like to embellish it a little.
When the slender blonde woman exited the house and headed for a small, well-tended garden nearby, he thought it was Maggie, but when he caught a glimpse of her face, Moses realized it wasn’t. Must be the sister, he thought, named Maddie or Mattie or some such.
Her soft yellow hair had been braided, then wrapped about her head to resemble a crown. Moses had seen many hairstyles with braids, but he favored this one above all others. The woman moved with a soft grace that made him think of elegant swans swimming across a placid lake. Back home, one of the richest families in the region had a lovely lake in front of their mansion, with swans and he had long admired their beauty. She wore a simple calico dress, but it suited her. The dark blue pattern contrasted with her ivory skin as she sauntered into the garden with a basket on one arm.
Moses watched as she picked leaf lettuce, then pulled a few carrots and a few herbs. As she moved, her position changed so that she faced him, and he gained a full view of her lovely face. Her eyes were a deep blue, framed by golden lashes darker than her hair. Her small nose turned up on one end, and her lips were the pink of spring roses, full and curved. He thought he’d never seen a prettier woman, as dainty and delicate as a china doll on a store shelf.
Once she’d filled her basket, adding new potatoes she dug from the ground, green beans from the bush, and more carrots, she hefted it higher on her arm. It appeared to be heavy, and without thinking, Moses stepped forward.
“Let me carry that for you.”
She halted and stared at him, scrutinizing his face. “I don’t know you, cowboy,” she said finally, her voice touched with the same light accent Maggie had. “I thought you were Boone Wilson, but I see you’re not.”
Moses swept his hat from his head and bowed. “I’m his brother, ma’am, Moses Wilson.”
Her blue eyes didn’t waver as she met his. “I’ve not had the pleasure. Are you new on the ranch?”
“No, ma’am, but we just got back from the trail,” he said. “I reckon you arrived on the ranch whilst I was away.”
Her head dipped toward her chin in a quick nod. “I came here in late May to help my sister, Mrs. Rafferty.”
“Maggie.”
“You’re familiar?”
“We all know Liam’s wife,” Moses said. “Here, let me carry that basket.”
He took it from her, careful not to spill the contents, wishing she’d tell him her name. He figured he knew from what Boone had told him, but he’d like to hear it from her lips.
“Danke,” she said, then blushed. “Thank you. It was a bit heavy.”
It wasn’t, not to him, but he carried it as she strolled back toward the ranch house. As they reached it, Liam emerged onto the porch and grinned. “Maggie’s looking for you, Matilda. Thought you’d got lost in that little ol’ garden. Moses, you’re a sight for those sore old eyes. Good to see you back, man.”
“Always glad to be home,” Moses replied. In the short years he’d been on the ranch, it had become that and more.
“Come in, join us for supper,” Liam said. “It’s near ready, and it’s some kind of German beef concoction, but I can vow it’s tasty.”
“It’s rouladen,” Matilda said. “With fried potatoes and that cornbread that you Texas folk like so very much. There is plenty.”
“Then I’m much obliged, and thank you kindly,” Moses replied. “Maggie’s a fine cook.”
The pretty blonde he’d just met gazed at him, eyes glinting with pride. “My sister is, that’s true, but I prepared the meal.”
“I reckon it’ll be right good, then.”
Moses placed the laden basket where Matilda directed him and sat down at the large round table with Liam’s family. He greeted Maggie, who was very pregnant but still pretty, and bowed his head for the blessing. Matilda served the food, and at his first bite of the unfamiliar dish, Moses sighed with pleasure. Rouladen turned out to be beef steak pounded then, filled with carrots, onions, and bacon, and then wrapped into a bundle. The meat was tender and delicious. He couldn’t complain about the taters or the cornbread, either.
Although Liam had already been briefed about the drive by Deacon Lee, he asked about the trail, and Moses replied, adding a few stories to liven the conversation. When he told about the five-foot-long rattler he’d killed at a watering hole, both women shuddered, but Liam grinned.
“I hope you ate it.”
“We did,” Moses said, although at the time, he hadn’t relished it a bit. “Cook boned it, cut it into chunks, and fried it. Wasn’t half bad.”
“I hate snakes,” Matilda said. “I don’t think I’d care to eat one.”
Moses smiled at her. “If it’s up to me, you won’t never have to, Miss Matilda.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she told him with a pert smile. “Call me Mattie.”
For the first time since he’d come across her in the garden, she offered him a full smile, and he realized he was smitten. Moses didn’t taste the rest of the meal or remember much of the discussion, focused on the lovely young woman. When he left, he tripped over his own feet on the way out but managed to make it to the bunkhouse.
“You look addled,” Zeke said when he fell into bed. “You alright?”
“Never been better.”
“Where’d you go anyhow? I thought you were right behind me.”
“Liam asked me to take supper with his family,” he said. “And I think I met an angel.”
Ezekiel snorted and rolled over to sleep, snoring within minutes, but Moses lay awake, hands folded under his head, and thought about Mattie.