11

Wild boar was some of the best eating Texas had to offer, and William was more than happy to labor over the dead beast in order to provide for the ranch. It wasn’t his first boar to butcher, but the arduous task was not one he looked upon favorably.

“We’re nearly done,” he told Berto, putting another piece of the hog in salt.

“This will see us through for many months,” Berto said.

William assessed the meat and nodded. “The men did a good job fixing up the smokehouse. I’m sure we can get most of this meat hung and cured in good order. Where did Juanita want the fat taken?”

“She said to leave it here. She will come and tend to it.” Berto straightened and wiped his messy hands on a towel. “I can finish this. You still going to start breaking that black today?”

The horse in question had been green broke and nothing more. The men had questioned William about even attempting such a feat with his injury. In the days before the war, however, William had been the best at breaking, and he meant to see his reputation continue. He had plans for turning the black into a fine cow horse, but there would be a great deal of work to contend with first. The animal was very nearly as stubborn as Hannah Dandridge. William smiled to himself. Nearly as stubborn, but not quite.

He cast aside the heavy butcher apron and washed his hands. “I might spend some time getting reacquainted. I’ll get to that though after I have a cup of coffee. This cold spell is chilling me to the bone.”

“Hopefully it will not last long.” Berto declared.

William nodded and made his way to the house. He passed the area where the summer kitchen was situated. Here Juanita and Hannah worked on the laundry throughout the year, keeping a pot of hot water going almost all the time. He stopped for a moment and warmed his hands over the steaming liquid. His leg was hurting him something fierce, and the thought of a nice long soak in a hot bath sounded far more inviting than breaking a horse.

“Oh. I didn’t realize you were here,” Hannah said, seeming startled. She stepped from the back door with a small pot in hand. “Is the butchering done?”

Turning back to the boiling water, William rubbed his hands together. “We’re pretty much finished. Now we’ll get to smoking it. Should have enough meat to last through the next few months.”

“That’s a relief to know.” She began to draw water from the pot. “I suppose you already know this, but we’ll need to have more water brought up from the river. The sledge barrels are nearly empty, and since the well has nearly dried up we don’t have any other choice.”

“I’ll get JD on that. Andy can help him if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Hannah’s tone seemed rather stilted, but was nonetheless polite.

Since his return from the hunt, William thought Hannah had been acting rather cool toward him. There was no accounting for how a woman might act at any given moment, but Hannah Dandridge definitely remained a mystery to him. One minute she was holding off Comanche and the next she was bawling her eyes out. Still, he didn’t know what to make of her. She almost seemed hurt, and yet he knew he’d neither said nor done anything that should merit such a response.

He watched her ladle out water. She was by far and away the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. Her thick hair, pulled back from her face and pinned into a serviceable knot, begged his touch. He could almost feel the strands between his fingers. She seemed to sense him watching her and glanced up.

“Yes?” she asked, as if he’d posed a question.

He was at a loss for something to say. “Umm . . . is there coffee on the stove?”

“I believe so.”

“Great. I was just making my way there when the warmth of this fire caught my attention.”

Hannah looked at the glowing embers for a moment. “I should add some more wood.” She hung the ladle back on its nail and went to the woodpile. William watched her select pieces of pine as though she were choosing fabric. Hannah seemed to calculate each piece’s value before returning to the fire with her choices.

When she finished she picked up her pot of hot water. “You won’t forget about filling the barrels?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ll see to it right away. Guess we need to check into drilling another well, too.”

“Thank you.” She left without another word, and William couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong. She wasn’t acting at all like herself.

He decided against the coffee and went in search of JD and Andy instead. Once he instructed them to retrieve the water, William went to see the black. He had dealt with a hundred green-broke horses in his day, but this time was different. With his war wound, he could only wonder if he’d be able to sit upon the horse properly and endure the pain. Riding a well-broke horse had been less painful than trying to walk, but breaking a horse required a great deal of muscle and strength. Especially in one’s legs.

Walking to the pen where the black was corralled, William studied the gelding for a long while. The horse came to him after a few moments. He was seeking a treat, and William didn’t disappoint him. He reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of apple.

“So you remember me, do you?”

The horse had just started his training when William went away to war. That had been over two years ago. The now five-year-old gelding had known very little training since that time. Berto had attempted to keep working with the animal, but as he told William, the gelding seemed destined to belong to one man and one man alone. William.

The sleek black horse had been sired out of a match with one of Theodore Terry’s stallions and a Barnett mare. Ted lived about seven miles away on a ranch that had been established long before William’s family had come to Texas. The Terrys weren’t a part of the original three hundred who had come to Texas, but William figured their lineage could no doubt be included in the next one hundred who populated the territory.

“We’ll have to get you properly broke in so we can take a ride over to see Ted and Marietta and let them know what a good mount you turned out to be.”

The horse nickered softly as if understanding the compliment. William smiled. “Well, we aren’t getting it done standing here jawin’.”

He headed to the barn to retrieve the horse’s tack when he spotted riders approaching. There were at least five mounted men, and from the looks of them, they were Confederate cavalry. William bristled. What did they want? Had they come to cause him trouble?

Remaining by the barn door, William’s hand went to his thigh. The very sight of the soldiers caused a dull ache to rise up in his leg. The memories associated with that uniform—with any uniform—were far from pleasant. However, as the riders drew closer, William thought he recognized the man in front. He forgot about the tack and went to greet the visitors.

“Will, is that you?” the rider said, pulling his mount to a sharp halt. He jumped from the back of the horse and dropped the reins. “It is you! Well, I’ll be.”

Tyler Atherton pushed back his forage cap, grinned, and extended his hand. “Last time I saw you, you were headin’ off to be a Billy Yank.”

The two had been friends since William’s family had first come to Texas. He was rather surprised to find Atherton still speaking to him after his family’s well-known decision to fight for the North. William noted that the other mounted men didn’t seem as friendly. They watched him with great apprehension.

“And you are still a Johnny Reb, I see.” William shook Tyler’s hand and offered him a grin. “Have you brought the war to Dallas County?”

“In a way, but we can discuss that in due time. I wonder if you might have feed for my men and horses.”

William didn’t want to explain the situation with the ranch and neither did he want to impose five hungry men on Hannah’s dwindling supplies. However, given that he’d just returned from killing two boars, William figured he could extend an invitation.

“If you want to wash up at the bunkhouse, I’ll see what I can get Juanita to feed you.”

Tyler turned to the men. “Dismount and wash up. We’re gonna have some grub.”

The men’s somewhat standoffish countenance changed to acceptance. They dismounted and tied off their horses before joining Tyler and William. “Men,” Tyler continued, “this is my good friend Will Barnett. This is his family’s ranch, so treat it with respect.”

“Actually, the ranch is . . . well . . .” William realized he wasn’t going to get out of an explanation. “Since my father decided to fight for the North, the ranch was given to a family more supportive of the Confederate cause.” He looked at the men before him. “I want you each to know that I do not consider myself a Yankee, nor do I want to put you ill at ease. My convictions . . . my desires are with Texas, and that is where they will remain.”

“As part of the Texas Third Cavalry,” Tyler answered for them, “our loyalty is first with Texas, as well. So therefore we meet on common ground.”

William could see in the expressions of a couple of the men that they didn’t support Tyler’s words, but they said nothing. The front door opened at that moment and Hannah stepped from the house.

“Well now, if that ain’t a ray of sunshine,” one of the men declared.

Tyler turned to William. “You’d best introduce us.”

Hannah looked at William and then to the soldiers. “Mr. Barnett, is there a problem?”

“This is my good friend Tyler Atherton,” William announced. “These are his men. We haven’t had a chance to discuss why they’ve come.” He turned back to Tyler. “This is Miss Hannah Dandridge. Her father took over the ranch.”

“Miss Dandridge, it’s a pure pleasure to meet you.” Tyler offered her a teasing smile. “I can see why Will is stayin’ close to home.”

Hannah blushed, but looked to William for answers. Her quizzical stare made it clear that she was waiting for an explanation.

“I’m wondering if it would be all right with you if we gave these men and horses food and maybe a bed for the night.”

Hannah glanced back at the men. “You’re willing to let Confederate soldiers stay here?”

William frowned. “Of course I am. This man is my friend. He and his men are hungry and tired. I wouldn’t begrudge anyone food and rest.”

She seemed to consider this only a moment before turning to Tyler. “Your men are welcome to stay, Mr. Atherton.”

“You can call me, Tyler, Miss Dandridge.”

“That would hardly be appropriate, Mr. Atherton. I do see, however, you are a soldier.”

“Yes, ma’am. A lieutenant in the Texas Third Cavalry.” Tyler’s gaze never left Hannah’s.

William felt a strange sense of jealousy wash over him when Hannah offered Tyler a smile.

“Then perhaps you would allow me to call you . . . Lieutenant.”

Tyler laughed and gave a sweeping bow. “You can call me anything, ma’am, so long as it ain’t late to the dinner table.” His men laughed, as well, and even Hannah appeared amused.

“Well, I’ll leave it to Mr. Barnett to show you where you can wash up and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll see to your meal.”

She turned and walked away, pausing only a moment at the door to glance over her shoulder. William wanted to think she was looking at him, but he figured she was probably more interested in his friend.

William decided to let it drop. There was no telling what Miss Dandridge might be thinking. “Come on, boys. We can put your horses up back here.”

Hannah wasn’t accustomed to being so popular. The men in the lieutenant’s company were more than happy to entertain her with stories and even some music. One of the men, a Private Bierman, played a lively harmonica while another private sang.

The soldiers seemed to find it pleasant to be in the company of children, and Andy and Marty were delighted by the attention. Two of the men actually got on the floor to shoot marbles with Andy, while Private Bierman showed Marty how to blow into the harmonica.

Had it not been for the very sad circumstances that had brought them there, Hannah might have found the entire visit a delight. Instead, she was considering everything that the lieutenant had discussed over lunch.

The Confederate soldiers were desperate for food. The entire South was suffering. The scenes depicted by the lieutenant and his men were not ones Hannah wanted to dwell on for long. When they spoke of the siege at Vicksburg and people even eating the dead horses, she thought she might well be ill. She was glad Juanita had fed the children separately in the kitchen.

Tyler Atherton and his men had come to see if they might get William’s help in moving some cattle east—smuggling them past Union troops in order to feed the South. They hoped to at least get them past the Mississippi River, at which point they could turn the herd over to other Confederate troops.

“I hope I didn’t upset you overmuch,” the lieutenant said, coming up behind Hannah.

She jumped and turned so quickly that her boot caught in the rug. She would have fallen had the lieutenant not taken hold of her.

“There now. I do apologize. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He smiled, and she liked the way his eyes seemed to twinkle.

“That’s quite all right. I was watching the children have fun with your men. They seem so carefree in these moments that it’s hard to imagine the war is really going on at the same time.”

Atherton nodded and his expression turned serious. He let go of his hold on Hannah. “It’s goin’ on all right. That’s why I’m hopin’ you’ll agree to help us with the cattle.”

“I can’t imagine it not being the right thing to do,” Hannah said. “Even the Bible tells us to feed the hungry. I can understand the Yankees wanting to keep the Confederate soldiers weak, but how can they even begin to live with themselves when they think of starving out innocent women and children?”

She looked up to find William had entered the room. Her mind immediately went to what Herbert Lockhart had said about William and his family being at Vicksburg from the start of the battle. Had he allowed her family to starve? Had he approved the methods used for bringing the town and the soldiers there to their knees?

“I have no idea of how you will manage this cattle drive without the Yankees knowing what is happening, but you have my blessing,” Hannah said. “And I’m certain my father would agree . . . were he here.”

“Well, we have some ideas on gettin’ those steers to the Mississippi. We have friends all along the way to help us. That was part of what we’ve been doing these past months. See, we were cut loose just before the battle at Vicksburg.”

“You were at Vicksburg?” she asked.

“My men and I were sent out just before the Yankees descended on us. We’ve been establishin’ stops along the way while workin’ to get this far west. It hasn’t been easy, but I believe that God has been on our side.”

“Both sides like to believe that, Tyler,” William said, interrupting the conversation, “but I don’t think that God is paying much attention to this war.”

The room went silent at this declaration. The lieutenant’s men left off their play with the children and got to their feet. Hannah could feel the tension build. She knew if she didn’t do something, there might very well be a fight.

“Gentlemen, I am of a mind that God loves all of His children equally,” Hannah said. “No doubt He is grieved by this war and weeps, just as I have, over the loss of life.” She hoped William would say nothing more and allow the matter to drop.

“Of course you’re right, Miss Dandridge,” the lieutenant agreed. “War is a despicable thing, and we should not even be discussin’ it in your presence. We will, if you would so graciously allow us, depart for a time of rest. My men and I have long been in the saddle and we’re a mite weary from our endeavors.”

“Most certainly you may go, Lieutenant,” Hannah replied. “I will see to it that you have everything you need.”

The handsome man took hold of her hand and bowed over it. Hannah thought him quite gallant—a true knight in shining armor. Only this armor was poorly made wool and tattered cotton. The mix-matched uniforms all looked as though they’d seen better days.

Atherton led his men from the house, but Hannah didn’t miss the scowls on their faces as they passed William. She was afraid if words were exchanged again, the men would most likely come to blows—and she didn’t want to see that happen in front of her brother and sister.

“I wonder if I might have a word with you, Mr. Barnett.”

William seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation and stepped back. “Perhaps you might accompany me to the smokehouse. I want to check on the fire.”

“Can I come, too?” Andy asked.

“No,” Hannah replied. “I need you and Marty to get back to your studies. I will be with you shortly to check on your work.”

“Aw, do I have to?” Marty moaned and picked up her doll. “All I ever do is read and write. Doing school is hard.”

Hannah suppressed a smile. “You must be educated, Miss Martha. Now get your slate and practice your alphabet while I’m gone.”

She didn’t wait to see if they heeded her command, but rather led the way through the house and out the back door. William Barnett followed her a few paces behind, but once they were outside, he came alongside her.

“I would appreciate it,” she began, “if you and your friend would refrain from discussing the war further—at least around the children. I have no desire to watch you brawl and bring the war to this house.”

“There’s no desire for that on my part, either, Miss Dandridge. I assure you.” William stopped and turned to face her. He continued to study her. “Is there something else you wish to discuss?”

Hannah wanted to ask him about his part in the Battle of Vicksburg, but decided she should follow her own advice and say nothing more regarding the war. “I just want to protect the children. They shouldn’t have to hear or see the ugliness associated with this war.”

“I couldn’t agree more. No child should have to.” He turned and looked away. “Now, if you’re finished, I need to see to the wood.”

“Certainly,” Hannah said, unable to think of anything else to say.

She felt her loyalties being torn in two different directions. Her family had suffered greatly at the hands of the Union Army. William Barnett had been a part of that army, and perhaps, as Mr. Lockhart said, was among the very soldiers who put an end to the lives of her grandfather and brother.

Yet even with that in her thoughts, Hannah knew that Mr. Barnett was a good man. She’d heard him talk of his regrets in going to war. She knew that he only served out of obedience to his father . . . and wasn’t she there for the very same reason? How could she fault a man for that?

Still, the stories of Vicksburg and the siege haunted her. The idea that William Barnett might well have fired the shot that ended her brother’s life was more than she could bear. Without another word, Hannah turned and hurried back to the house. She needed to distance herself from William Barnett and all that he represented.

Now, if her heart would just cooperate.