4

Pepita cried softly against her mother’s shoulder, terrified of what the Comanche raiders might do. The last year had only served to heighten everyone’s fears. So many ranchers had been burned out or run off. With only a small number of soldiers to keep peace in the West, the Indians were raiding closer and closer to the towns. The stories of stolen children, murders, and mayhem ran rampant. Hannah had to admit she’d not worried overmuch until now. Her father had implied that many of the stories were most likely exaggerated, and since the Barnett Ranch had been untouched, it was easy to believe him. Now, however, facing the possibility of an attack, Hannah wondered at the foolishness of having stayed.

Marty tried hard to pretend she wasn’t afraid. She sat in the corner, hugging her doll closer and humming. She had wanted Hannah to hold her, but that was out of the question. Hannah had to be ready to defend the house with her rifle.

Dear God, please don’t make me have to kill someone.

Hannah couldn’t help but wonder if Marty was worried about her brother. Marty often followed Andy around like a puppy to his master, so his absence was bound to cause her alarm.

Where are you, Andy? Hannah’s mind raced with horrible thoughts of him being taken by the Comanche.

JD, a lanky sixteen-year-old who’d been hired just a few months earlier, came bounding into the living room twisting his hat in his hand. “They’ve up and gone,” he announced. “Berto and Diego are following a ways behind to make sure they’re not hiding out to attack in the dark.”

“Why would they just leave?” Hannah asked.

The young man shrugged. “Don’t rightly know, ma’am. They may have seen something that spooked them. Maybe soldiers are headin’ this way.”

“God has heard our prayers,” Juanita said, hugging her child close.

Hannah nodded and headed for the door. “What about Andy, JD? Did you see anything of him?”

“No, ma’am. I ain’t seen him.”

She tried not to let the comment worry her. Hopefully Andy had taken cover. Maybe he just couldn’t get back to the house. She vacillated between being angry that he’d broken the rules and terrified that he might be hurt or worse.

“I’m going to look for him.” She leaned the rifle up against the wall in order to open the door.

“But Berto say to stay here, Miss Hannah,” Juanita declared, getting to her feet. “You don’t know the danger.”

“I can’t just leave him out there. I mean, what if the Indians have him?”

“Then you no find him here. Wait for Berto.”

Despite Juanita’s urging, Hannah opened the front door. In the growing darkness she could make out someone approaching. Hannah reached out to take up the heavy rifle. Had the Comanche thrown the men off and circled around to attack from the front of the house?

Andy’s excited voice filled her heart with joy. “We found a hurt Comanche.”

Hannah quickly discarded her weapon. “Andy! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried.”

Andy came running. “I found Mr. Barnett, too.”

The man stepped forward, the Indian slung over his shoulder. “I reckon we found each other,” he announced.

Hannah didn’t know what to say or do. For a moment she locked eyes with the handsome stranger and froze. It was Juanita who brought a lamp and welcomed the man.

“Mr. William, you come home.”

He grinned. “Juanita, it is so good to see a friendly face. I’m afraid I’m pretty much done in—otherwise I’d give you a big hug.”

“Your arms are full,” she said, handing Pepita the lamp. “You bring him in?”

They both looked to Hannah, who stood in the doorway. She couldn’t think rational thoughts. “I suppose . . . I . . . well, we could take him to Father’s room.”

Juanita reached out for William’s rifle. “I take this for you.”

No one said a word to Hannah as Pepita led the way, with Juanita close behind. William and Andy traipsed past her as if she’d not even been there. She didn’t know which shocked her more, the fact that they’d just brought a Comanche into her house or that the former owner of the ranch had returned.

Not knowing what else to do, Hannah closed the door and followed the others into her father’s room, noticing that the man was limping under the weight of the load he was carrying. The Indian was hardly more than a boy. Hannah could see he was hurt, and her fears were quickly replaced with a desire to help.

“Pepita, fetch some hot water and rags,” she instructed. “Andrew, you go watch your sister.”

“Ah, I wanna see what happens when he wakes up.”

“You’d best do as you’re told,” Hannah instructed. “You’re already in a world of trouble for giving me such a fright.”

Andy looked to the floor. “Sorry. I was trying to help a steer get out of the brambles.”

“We can talk about it later,” Hannah said. “Please go tend to Marty for now.” When she looked back to the bed, Juanita and William had managed to strip the boy’s leather shirt from his body. He looked even smaller.

“What happened to him?” she asked, coming alongside the bed.

“Horse spooked on the edge of the ravine. The boy fell to the bottom. I figure he’s got a broken arm,” William answered.

Hannah met his gaze and found herself momentarily lost in his dark blue eyes. She shook herself free of the spell just as Pepita returned with the water. Hannah took the basin and busied herself by washing away some of the grime from the boy’s face. The stench from his body assaulted her senses and Hannah couldn’t help but wonder when he’d last had a bath. The boy stirred just a bit, startling her.

William reached out for the rag. “I can do that if you want.”

Hannah steadied her nerves and shook her head. “I’m fine.”

He pulled back and rubbed his right thigh. Hannah wondered if he’d hurt himself but turned her focus to the Comanche boy. She’d never seen an Indian up this close. Their skin really wasn’t red at all—at least not this boy, who was more brown, like Juanita and Berto. Maybe Indians could be different skin colors.

“Mr. William, how your father and brother?” Juanita asked. “They coming, too?”

Hannah startled at this. Was it possible that the Barnetts had returned to take control of their ranch? If that were the case, what would she do? A fleeting thought of Herbert Lockhart begging her to come to Cedar Springs flitted through her mind.

“My father and brother are dead,” William replied. “They were killed in battle. I took a bullet in the same fight. It’s left me lame.”

Juanita’s eyes filled with tears. “Mr. Jason and Mr. Lyle are dead? Oh, this is terrible news. Lo siento mucho.”

“I am sorry, too,” William said softly. “Their loss cuts to the heart of me.”

Juanita nodded and Hannah couldn’t help but throw him a sympathetic glance. She knew her father said they were traitors for fighting with the Northern troops, but given her own situation, she couldn’t help but feel bad for the man. She’d already lost a brother and grandfather to the war, and perhaps her father would also be a victim.

Hannah wiped the cloth over the boy’s wounded head. “Looks like he fell hard. Has he been knocked out for long?”

“The last couple of hours. We had to wait until we were sure the rest of the raiding party was gone before we could make our way here. Then with my leg the way it is, I had a tough time carrying him and walking.”

She nodded but didn’t look at him again. How strange it was that a man she’d never met before could make her feel so odd. Perhaps it was just the knowledge that this had been his home and was now hers. Would his appearance only serve to be the start of more problems?

Berto and Diego appeared at the door. “Andy said you have a Comanche in here,” Berto said, stepping forward.

“Es verdad,” Juanita declared. “And look, Mr. Will is here.”

Hannah straightened to see Berto and Diego’s faces break into smiles. Berto rushed to William and embraced him. They slapped each other’s backs.

“It’s good to see you again,” William said. “I thought it might never happen.”

“You have been missed, amigo,” Berto said as they pulled away.

William nodded. “All I could think about was getting back here.” He frowned and looked at Hannah. “But I guess from the sounds of it, we have a bit of a problem.”

Hannah had been waiting for him to acknowledge her residency. “My family has been living here for not quite a year.” His scrutiny made her feel uncomfortable, and she looked to Berto. “My father was given title to this ranch . . . after . . . after. . . .” She looked back to her patient. Juanita was applying a cloth to the swollen lump on the boy’s head.

“After we traitorously left to fight for the North?” William asked.

Hannah nodded without looking at him. She wanted to change the subject but knew they would have to address the matter sooner or later. Her stomach growled loudly, giving her a good excuse to speak about something else. “Are you hungry? I’m starving. Juanita, let’s have supper right away.”

“I could definitely go for some grub,” William said, seeming to understand.

“We can talk about what has happened while we eat,” Hannah said. She looked at the young Indian. “I suppose someone should sit with him. We can take turns.”

“I will stay,” Diego said. “Just bring me some food,” he added with a grin.

“I come and take care of him when the meal is on the table,” Juanita offered. She hurried from the room and Hannah did likewise.

“I apologize for putting you out,” William said. Hannah could only nod. He assessed her as if trying to decide on purchasing a horse. He smiled. “Andy told me you wouldn’t mind. I hope that’s true.”

Hannah felt a reply stick in her throat. She nodded again and hurried away to check on the children. The last thing she had expected was to have this man and a Comanche in her home.

“Look,” Andy said as Hannah approached. He pointed to the checkerboard. “I’m teachin’ Marty to play.”

Hannah thought how very young they were and for the first time felt guilty for having remained at the ranch. Herbert was right. The area had become much too dangerous. Perhaps she would have to reconsider moving into town.

She paused for a moment. “Andy, where were you? We couldn’t find you.”

“I was just playin’. I was running after a rabbit. Then I heard something down by the river. I found a longhorn stuck, and I wanted to help him. That’s what ranchers do.”

“I appreciate that you wanted to help him, but, Andy, you know that we have rules about going that far away. Rules for your protection and safety. Look what happened. The Comanche came and I couldn’t find you. What if that boy had killed you instead of falling off his horse?”

Andy bowed his head. Hannah had always known him to be very contrite for his wrongdoings and didn’t expect that this time would be any different.

“I’m sorry.”

Hannah knelt down beside him. “I know you are. But sometimes an apology isn’t enough. You broke a very important rule, Andy, and there must be a punishment for that.”

He looked at her seriously and nodded. Hannah wanted to hug him close, but she held off. Marty was the one who broke the tension of the moment, however.

“You gonna whop him?”

She might have laughed at her little sister’s question had the situation not been so grave. Hannah straightened and looked at Andy. “I haven’t decided what the punishment will be. We have guests in the house right now, and the matter will need to wait. We can talk about it more after supper.”

Andy looked as though he might burst into tears any moment, and Hannah was afraid that if she didn’t leave she might well follow suit. Getting to her feet, she found William Barnett watching her from the hallway. She pretended not to notice him there.

“You and Marty get washed up for supper and then set the table. We’ll have Mr. Barnett with us, so be sure to set an extra place.”

“Yes’m,” Andy and Marty said in unison.

They abandoned their checkers and headed from the room. “Mr. Barnett, you can sit by me at supper,” Andy declared.

Hannah heard the man respond favorably to this idea. Marty was babbling to him about sitting by her, as well. He was quite kind to both of them, and when Andy suggested he come wash up with them, William agreed.

She was relieved to not have to face him for the moment. Goodness, but she didn’t know what to say to him. If only Father hadn’t gone away. For a moment she almost wished that Herbert Lockhart were there to confront the man and explain the situation. Instead, she would have to handle it herself. But how could she explain to him that the Barnetts’ ranch had been confiscated as spoils of war and given to someone else?

Making her way to the kitchen, Hannah was relieved to see that Juanita had things well under control. She and Pepita were hurrying around the room, each one seeming to know the steps and plans of the other.

“What can I do to help?” Hannah asked.

Juanita pointed to the plate of tortillas. “Take those to the table. I bring the corn bread and frijoles.”

Hannah picked up the platter. “Juanita, you and Berto are good friends with Mr. Barnett, aren’t you?”

“Sí,” Juanita said, stopping in her work. “Why you ask?”

She put the plate down and moved closer to the woman. “What do you think he wants?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The woman’s face betrayed her confusion. Hannah glanced at the doorway and lowered her voice. “Why is he here?”

“This is his home. He come home.”

Hannah shook her head. “But it isn’t his home anymore. The government took it away from him—from his family.” Juanita shrugged as if she didn’t understand. And maybe she doesn’t, Hannah thought. After all, I don’t understand any of this.

It wasn’t going to be easy to figure this out in an amicable way. After all, mention of the man being a traitor against the Confederacy was bound to enter the conversation. Hannah couldn’t very well explain their presence at the ranch without that being at the center of the issue.

She sighed. “Never mind. I suppose God will just have to help me work this out.”

Juanita smiled. “God, He always have a plan.”

Hannah went back to retrieve the platter. “I hope so.”

William hated to admit it, but he liked the changes in the place. Apparently Hannah Dandridge had a good knack for making a house a home. He had no idea what must have happened to the Barnett family belongings, however—not that there had been all that much. His mother had kept a few family mementos, but she’d never been one for a lot of doodads and bric-a-brac. They’d been too busy working to build up the ranch itself. Fixing up the interior always took second place to that. And after his mother’s death, the house lacked even her subtle feminine influence.

Juanita used to put little touches here and there, he remembered. She always had chilies and herbs hanging to dry. She made beautiful baskets and positioned them around the kitchen with fruits and vegetables, but otherwise she reserved her creativity for the little house she and Berto shared with their children out by the bunkhouse. He recalled she’d done a beautiful job of setting tiles atop the counters in her much smaller kitchen. He’d often thought of having her do the same for the ranch house.

“Don’t forget to set an extra place,” Marty called to her brother.

William drew closer to the dining room to watch the children. They were well behaved. Even when his mother had been talking of punishment, Andy had been respectful. William and Lyle had been no different. They’d learned at an early age that respecting one’s parents was something God expected. Their mother had been a gentle soul with a heart of gold. In fact, Hannah Dandridge reminded him of her. She seemed like a no-nonsense sort of woman who was used to taking charge of difficult situations. She hadn’t had a fit like some women might when they brought the Comanche boy into the house.

“Mr. Barnett?”

He turned to find Hannah looking at him oddly. “Ma’am?”

She continued to study him for a moment, as if trying to size him up. Had she been a man, William might have been offended. Then again, had she been a man, he might not have noticed how blue her eyes were or how her brown hair glinted with golden strands and curled in little wisps around her face.