The day after their wedding, it turned colder and rained, but there was no snow. The falling rain beat a rhythm on the roof and provided a cozy feeling. Mattie lit the coal oil lamp early to banish the dim shadows from the room and made a pot of potato soup flavored with a little bacon. Moses managed the short distance from the bed to the chair with her assistance. Neither of his brothers appeared during the day, and Mattie was thankful for the time to spend with her husband without distraction. As much as she liked Boone and all the Wilsons, they needed some private time to adjust to marriage. Although they couldn’t be intimate in every way, Mattie couldn’t stop touching Moses. She stroked his hair and caressed his cheek as she passed by him, delivered kisses, and held his hand.
They talked to pass the time. Mattie shared stories from her childhood, and Moses offered memories from his. When conversation slowed, he read a book, and so did she, then they would discuss what they had read. He had been whittling a wooden bear for young Robert before Moses took ill, and he began working on it, slow and with great care. The boy would turn two later in the month.
Neither said a word about Gunther Hammerschmidt or the fact he would arrive at any time. Mattie thought a great deal about it, though, and was more than a little worried. She didn’t want any commotion but feared he wouldn’t leave without a disturbance. Boone had left the letter in her keeping and she read it over many times. Her heart ached when she thought about her parents cutting all ties and hoped that once they received news of her marriage, they might relent.
“My family is yours now,” Moses told her, aware that the rift caused her pain. “You’re a sister to my brothers now.”
He was lying down, resting against the pillows and she cuddled up beside him. “How many sisters do you have?”
“Nary a one,” he said. “Ma had all sons.”
Mattie had three sisters, Maggie and the young ones still at home, and her brother, Manfred, who preferred Freddie. The Wilsons had five brothers in the family. “Do you miss your other two brothers?”
“I do, some,” he told her. “Boone’s the oldest, and he stepped into our daddy’s shoes when he died. He’s eight years older than me and twelve years older than Zeke. I always have been close with Boone and Ezekiel, more since we’ve been here in Texas today. We’ve been through a lot, but I’d like to see Jacob and Garrett again, too. Boone meant to go home to Kentucky once he recovered from being shot and didn’t get hanged, but Rachel was in the family way, so he couldn’t.”
“So, none of you went back,” Mattie said. She found their sense of one for all, all for one reminiscent of ‘The Three Musketeers.’ She’d read an English translation of the story and been captivated by it in school.
“Naw, it didn’t seem right to leave Boone or Zeke behind,” Moses said. “And now Rachel’s fixing to have another child sometime in March.”
Rachel had confided that to Mattie, but Mattie, who had observed Frau Zieff at work, doubted it would be that long. “I think she’ll have the baby sooner,” Mattie told Moses.
“Why do you think that?”
“Her belly’s dropped,” she explained. “That happens usually a few weeks, no more before birth. If I were to make a guess, I’d say she might have it almost anytime.”
Moses frowned, so she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Boone’s worried now. If Rachel has that child sooner, he’ll be beside himself. He’s had enough on his plate, fretting over me. I noticed he’s got a few gray hairs now, and he ain’t but thirty-one years old.”
She wanted to offer reassurance that all would be well, but since she’d been present when Rachel miscarried in the summer, Mattie didn’t dare. Rachel had bled so much that both she and Maggie had feared they might lose her. She might deliver without complications, but there were no guarantees she would. Many women died giving birth or afterward.
“Did Ezekiel mind going back to the bunkhouse?” she asked, to change the subject.
“Not much, I don’t think,” Moses replied. “This time of year, it’s not so crowded, but come spring, Liam will bring back more of the hands for the drives.”
Mattie didn’t ask if he would have to go, but she hoped that now he was partners in the ranch, maybe he wouldn’t. If he did, she would miss him so.
They had four days of married bliss before Hammerschmidt arrived, driving up as if he belonged on the ranch in a covered wagon with a team of horses. Mattie had gone outside to fetch water from the well, or she wouldn’t have seen his arrival. She stopped, empty bucket in hand, and then turned around. Without running, she hurried back to the cabin.
“That didn’t take long at all,” Moses said from where he sat near the fire. He had insisted on getting dressed in his usual work clothes so he looked hale and healthy, much more than he was.
“I didn’t get to the well,” she replied. Her heart pounded, and she struggled not to breathe hard after her rushed return. “Gunther is here. I saw the wagon pull up by Liam’s house.”
“Shoot fire and save matches,” Moses exclaimed.
“It’s not like it’s a surprise. We knew he was coming.”
Mattie knew just how Moses felt, though. Gunther’s arrival still came as a shock, and she dreaded how he’d respond when he learned she wasn’t returning with him and that she was married.
Ezekiel exploded into the cabin without knocking. “That German is here!”
“Does Boone know yet?”
“He does. He’s heading over here now. We were down at the corrals.”
Zeke had run, but Boone rode up on Sprat. Once he’d tied the horse to the porch rail, he came inside. “I reckon you heard,” he said. “Guttersnipe is here.”
Mattie had noticed he’d taken to calling Gunther anything but his name and admired it. It removed most of the menace and made him into a joke.
“I saw the wagon.”
“We’d best get up to Liam’s and get this over with, then. Are you ready, Mattie?”
She hadn’t realized she’d have to face her former suitor. From the stricken look on Moses’ face, neither had he. “I suppose so, but do I have to see him, Boone?”
He sighed hard. “Man like that is never gonna accept the news unless he hears it straight from your mouth, and even then, he won’t like it. I’ll stand beside you, and Liam will be there. I sent most of the hands that way, too. Ezekiel, will you stay with Moses?”
“I will.”
Moses used the arms of the chair to stand. “I want to be there, Boone.”
“I know you would, but you ain’t fit for it. Have you been out of this cabin in weeks? No. Can you walk up there without fainting in the mud? Likely not. You ain’t even walked farther than the bed to the chair, and that’s with help.”
“It’s my place as Mattie’s husband to be there.”
“If you hadn’t nearly died, yeah, it would, but use some sense,” Boone told him. “If you push too hard and take a turn for the worse, we might not pull you through this time. I don’t suppose you want to make her a widow?”
His face remained set with a mulish expression, but Moses sat back down.
“Why’d you have to make sense?” he muttered.
“Because I’m smart,” Boone said with the ghost of a grin. “Let’s go before the son of a buck heads down here. I don’t want him upsetting Rachel or you. If he did, I might have to shoot him, and that would prove a mistake, most likely.”
“Might solve the problem, though.”
“That’s already done. Mattie?”
She kissed Moses and took off her apron. “I’m ready, Boone.”
He nodded. “Zeke, boost her up behind me once I’m mounted. I ain’t taking the time to walk.”
It wasn’t far to the main house, but Boone urged his horse to a canter. They arrived to see Liam on his front porch. Maggie peered from the front door, Grace at her knee and the baby in her arms. Gunther stood in front of the house, waving his hands about in a wild pattern.
Boone dismounted and eased Mattie to the ground. He led her around the wagon but stopped several feet from Gunther. At that distance, they could hear what was said.
“I’ve come for my bride, Liam Rafferty,” Gunther said. “I won’t leave without her, and we’re heading back to San Antonio within the hour. Don’t vex me. It’s been a miserable trip, and I’m in a bad temper. Where’s Mathilde?”
“I’m here,” she said, although her voice emerged more than a little shaky.
At the same time, Boone spoke. “If you mean Mrs. Mattie Wilson, she’s right here.”
Gunther whirled toward them. When he did, Boone pushed back his coat and let his hand rest on his Griswold revolver. When the German banker took a few steps in their direction, he pulled it from the holster. “I don’t recommend you come any farther, Hammerschmidt.”
“Step away from the woman, cowboy,” Gunther said. “Mathilde, get your things and get in this wagon.”
“I won’t be going anywhere, especially not to San Antonio,” she said. Her voice was stronger now. “I’m married now, and this is my home.”
Gunther snorted. “I don’t believe such lies. Surely you wouldn’t marry a cow hand.”
Mattie lifted her left hand to display the wedding ring. “I could, and I have.”
“Is this your man?” he asked with a sneer, glancing toward Boone.
Boone locked his steely gaze on Gunther. “I’m his brother.”
“She’s not married,” Gunther said with a cocksure confidence that irked Mattie.
Liam spoke for the first time since she had arrived. “She is, Hammerschmidt. I was a witness to her wedding. Judge Ike Masters, out of Laredo, performed the ceremony. She’s wife to Moses Wilson, one of my partners in this ranch.”
“I want to see the marriage certificate, then.” Some of the bluster had vanished from his voice, though. His sour expression indicated he thought it could be true.
“I’ve seen it,” Liam said. “And signed my name as witness. You don’t need to see it, but you do need to get off this ranch.”
If he had her marriage certificate in hand, he’d tear it up, Mattie thought. Then he would try to claim it never existed.
Gunther smiled, but it was an evil, terrible expression. He barked out a few words in German, and four armed men climbed from the back of the wagon and stood.
“And who will make me go?” he asked.
Ten ranch hands came up from where they had waited, all with pistols or rifles at the ready, and ringed the wagon.
“We will,” Deacon Lee, Boone and Liam’s old friend, said. “And the law will be here from Laredo.”
That much had to be bluff, Mattie thought, but when Gunther’s arrogant expression faded, she figured he believed it.
Mean natured, though, he wasn’t going to go without slinging some insults and having the last word. “You’re a wicked woman, Mathilde, with low morals, and I am glad now to be free from your whiles,” he said in a venom-laced voice. “You’ve turned your back on your family and society. You won’t be welcome again in San Antonio unless it’s in the lowest dives. How many of these ignorant, thick-headed Dummkopfs have you taken into your arms? And where, if you are wed, is your husband? Why is he not here to defend you? I think perhaps you don’t have a husband after all.”
Before anyone could say a word, Moses spoke into the heavy silence.
“I’m right here,” he said and took a place beside his wife with Boone on his left. “You owe my wife an apology, and then I suggest you do as Liam asked and leave the ranch.”
“Moses!” Mattie said, stunned that he had appeared. She wondered how he could have made his way from the cabin. He couldn’t have walked. Ezekiel stood a few paces behind, and he grinned at her.
Moses held his Colt revolver and aimed it at Gunther. “Go now, or I’ll shoot. I don’t take kindly to anyone trying to interfere with my wife.”
Gunther cut loose a flood of German from his mouth, most of it swear words that Mattie wouldn’t repeat to anyone. Then he jerked his head, and his armed men climbed back into the wagon. Then he climbed onto the wagon seat and looked at them all.
“If any of you set foot in San Antonio, I will see that you’re arrested, tried, and hanged for attempted murder,” he said. “I will tell the Baumann’s to consider their daughter, both their daughters, as good as dead.”
He clicked his tongue and used the reins to get the team moving. The wagon rumbled through the ranch yard and turned back toward San Antonio. As soon as it headed away, Boone grabbed Moses before he could fall down, and Ezekiel took his other side. They steadied him between them while Mattie stood in front of him, crying and kissing his face.
“How in the name of everything holy did you get here?” Boone demanded with a sharp look toward Zeke.
“I brought him piggyback,” Ezekiel said. “He was fit to be tied, Boone, and saying he’d walk here on his own if he had to, even if he swooned or died trying. He’s heavy, and I thought sure my back would give out, but we managed.”
“That’s pure luck, and you know it,” Boone groused. “You’re a pair of idiots, stupid fools. He could have fainted anywhere along the way or right here in front of Guttersnipe. You look like you’re about to go down now, Moses.”
“I ain’t so peart,” he said.
“Liam, fetch him a chair,” Boone said. “Mattie, tend your loggerheaded husband.”
“I got one right here,” Liam said and set down a chair. His brothers lowered Moses onto the seat and stepped back.
Mattie knelt on the ground, heedless of the mud, and hugged her husband. She should have been angry, and she was worried, but more than that, she was proud and moved deep within.
“‘So faithful in love and dauntless in war,’” she said, quoting a poem by Sir Walter Scott. “‘There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.’“
“Except for loco Moses Wilson,” Boone said in a dry tone, but a smile played around his lips. “You all right, young Lochinvar?”
“Naw,” Moses replied. “I reckon I’m about to swoon.”
He did, but his brothers caught him before he crumpled onto the dirt.
Mattie cried out as Maggie handed the baby to Liam and joined her. After a wild rush of aid, Deacon Lee brought around a wagon, and they loaded Moses into the back. Once home, his brothers toted him inside, then stripped him back to his drawers and nightshirt. They tucked him into bed, Boone complaining the loudest. Mattie propped him on the pillows and waited to see if he’d rouse. He hadn’t yet.
“What in the world happened?” Rachel asked, dashing over.
“Is Mo Mo sick again?” Mima asked, echoing the fear they all shared.
“He’d better not be,” Boone said with a grim expression. “If he is, I’m gonna knock him winding when he gets over it.”
Moses groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. Mattie, seated on the bed facing her husband, released a long sigh. “I ain’t sick, Boone,” he said. “I’m just so awful weak, that’s all.”
Standing on the opposite side of the bed, Boone shook his head. “You took a terrible chance, Moses. You ain’t getting out of this bed for a couple of days, sick or well. I ain’t giving you up to the ground.”
Mattie took Moses’ hand and held it. “Can you drink a little water?”
He nodded, and she rose to get some.
“Mattie, I’m going back to work,” Boone said. “Send for me if he takes a turn, though.”
“I will,” she promised. “Don’t fret.”
“Cain’t help it,” he said. “I near finished raising him and that one too.”
He hugged her, then and left. Rachel lingered for a few moments, and so did Zeke, complaining good-naturedly that his back was probably broken, then they were gone.
Mattie brought Moses a drink of water. Then she crawled onto the bed beside him and put her head on his shoulder. “I love you, Moses,” she told him. “If you didn’t already own my heart, you would have got it with what you did, but Boone’s right. You took too much of a chance.”
“I’d do it again,” he said. “You’re my wife, Mattie, and I love you. I had to be there.”
“You’d best not have a setback,” she warned.
“I don’t reckon I will, but I need to sleep a spell,” he told her. “I’m awful tired.”
“I’m staying right here,” she said.
“Good.”
She remained cuddled with him for a long time, savoring his nearness, then unwound herself without awakening him. Mattie took his place in the chair by the fire, buried her face in both hands, and wept. Part of it was a rush of love for this man and how much he’d risked for her sake. There was concern, too, but she also cried because her parents, her family, would now disown her. Like Gunther had said, they would think of her as if she were dead. Mattie grieved that and knew that part of the reason Moses had pulled the stunt he had was to make up for that.
He didn’t have to, she reflected. She had no doubt of his love for her or what lengths he would go for her sake. But she was glad that he did, even as she prayed that he would have no ill effects from his gesture.
Other than spending three full days in bed, being cosseted and spoiled by her, he didn’t.
As Boone had said, when it became apparent Moses wouldn’t suffer a setback, thanks be to God.