Home of the Brave (21 page)

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Authors: Jeffry Hepple

Tags: #war, #mexican war, #texas independence

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“I beg to differ, Captain,”
Anna said. “Anticipating sixty days of solitary confinement is good
reason to be blue.”

“With so many gone on the
cattle drive, we really don’t have much choice but to stay inside
the stockade,” Lagrange said defensively. “Unless we want to be
scalped by Indians or killed by Mexicans, that is.”

“I don’t understand why my
brother has chosen to take his cattle all the way to New Orleans,”
Anna complained. “Especially if it’s illegal.”

“Illegal under Mexican law,”
Lagrange replied.

“Aren’t you, as a Texas
Ranger, a representative of Mexican law?”

“No, of course not.” He gave
her a quizzical look. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t think anything. I
was only asking a question.”

“Well any fool should have
seen that we didn’t back Colonel Bradburn when he came here last
June.”

“I saw that you didn’t back
me either.”

“Oh now, Miss Anna, that’s
not fair. Nobody knew what you were doing and the Rangers are
obligated to defend the Texians in the fort.”

“What exactly is a
Texian?”

“An American settler in
Texas.”

“So the Texas Rangers are
here in support of the Texians against the Mexicans?”

“You might be overstating
that a bit.”

“You’re defending my brother
taking his stock to New Orleans in order to avoid paying taxes, is
that not true?”

“It is as far as it goes,
yes. But if it wasn’t for the
Beef
Trail
, to New Orleans, the Mexican
Government would take half of all the Texian ranchers’ income,
including your brother’s. That wouldn’t even leave them enough to
pay the ranch hands. How long do you think that could go
on?”

“There are legal steps that
can be taken.”

“They’ve all been tried but
Mexico City is jealous of the success of these American immigrants
and they’re afraid that the United States may try to annex Texas.
The legislators lack the foresight to realize that this country is
nothing but dirt, cactus and a few stunted trees without men like
Stephen Austin and your brother.”

“If from your manner of
speech I were to presume that you are an educated man, would I be
correct, Captain Lagrange?”

“I graduated from the
College of William and Mary, Madam.”

“That’s Miss, not Madam; I’m
not married and never have been.”

“Oh, I thought…” He
blushed.

“Yes, I know what you
thought and I know what you now think after learning that I am a
fallen woman.”

“Oh no, Miss. I don’t think
less of you – that is…”

“Of course you do, Captain,
and well you should. I gave in to seduction and this is the proof
of my sinful behavior.” She smiled at her child and kissed his
forehead. “Oddly enough, this is also my greatest
accomplishment.”

“Quincy is a fine boy, Miss
Anna, and you’re a fine lady,” Lagrange said.

“Why thank you Captain.
Please don’t hesitate to call on me while my brother and
sister-in-law are away. There would be nothing improper in that, I
assure you.”

“Oh.” Lagrange looked
stricken. “Yes, Ma’am- I mean Miss, I surely will.”

“Then I bid you good day,”
Anna said, and she turned to walk back toward the house.

Lagrange watched her for a
moment then crossed to the small blockhouse that he shared with
Captain Whipple.

Whipple looked up as
Lagrange came through the door. “They get off okay?” His right foot
was bare and soaking in a bucket.

“Yup.” Lagrange tossed his
hat at the rack, missed and walked over to pick it up. “How’s the
snake bite?”

Whipple took his foot out of
the bucket and looked at the wound. “No better.” He put his foot
back in the water.

“I’ve seen moccasins with
leather tops for sale in San Antonio. They might be better than
those squaw-moccasins you wear. Hell, anything would be better than
those damn useless things.” He dropped heavily into the other
chair.

“Jane’s gonna buy me a pair
o’ boots in New Orleans. Somethin’ botherin’ ya,
Charlie?”

“No.” Lagrange shook his
head. “Yes. That damn woman trapped me.”

“Do what?”

“Did you know she’s never
been married?”

“Who? Anna?”

“Yes, who else would I be
talking about?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Yer
talkin’ kinda outta yer head so who could guess?”

“Yes, I’m talking about Anna
Van Buskirk. Did you know that she’s never been
married?”

“Y’ just answered yer own
question. She’s Tom’s sister and she still has the same last name
as him.”

“Well I never thought about
it, so I didn’t know.”

“So what’s so troublesome
about that?”

“I dunno. I just thought she
was a widow or something.”

“What the hell does it
matter? Y’ never turned yer nose up at no whores and they’re all a
hell of a lot more experienced than Anna by a long
shot.”

“I’m not turning my nose up,
but I’m not wanting to go courting either.”

“There you go again, talkin’
outta yer blamed head.”

Lagrange raised his hands
over his head and dropped them in exasperation. “The damn woman
trapped me.”

“Trapped you
how?”

“She gave me permission to
call on her and now I’m obligated.”

“Well if I give y’
permission to suck the poison outta this here snake-bit foot, it
don’t mean y’ gotta do it.”

“There was a kind of implied
consent – I don’t know.”

“In other words y’ kinda
obligated yer own self.”

“Those would be the other
words.”

“She’s a right handsome
woman, that Anna. Best ass I ever saw on a white woman.”

Lagrange shook his head.
“Jane.”

“Okay. Second best. But
Quincy could use a pa and you’d be a good ‘en.”

“What kind of name is Quincy
anyway?” Lagrange asked.

“She named the boy after
John Quincy Adams. Reckon he’s the father?”

Lagrange thought that over
for some time. “I didn’t vote for the bastard.”

“The bastard John Quincy
Adams or Anna’s bastard Quincy?”

“Now who do you
think?”

“I think a damn educated
fool like you would of voted for John Quincy Adams. You and him
talk the same highfalutin way.”

Lagrange got up and
retrieved his hat. “I’m gonna ride out and check on the west
stockade.”

“Take a couple o’ the boys
with y’. The Comanches surely seen the herd move out and they might
get brave thinkin’ that we’re short handed.”

Lagrange nodded. “If we’re
not back by noon tomorrow come looking.”

“If I see buzzards over to
that direction I might come sooner. Be sure to give Anna a nice
kiss good-bye.”

“‘
Hope your danged foot
rots off,” Lagrange shot back as he headed out the door.

September 30,
1830

New Orleans,
Louisiana

 

Thomas and Jane were sitting
side-by-side on the top rail of the cattle chute. The stockyards
were so jammed with animals and people that it had taken two days
for the Two Alone herd to reach the auction yard and they were now
second in line. “With all this stock, the price is going to be
pitifully low,” Jane said loudly enough to be heard over the
bawling of cattle.

Thomas shook his head. “I
don’t think so. All these European and Eastern cattle are half
dead, skin and bones, but our Texas Longhorns look as fresh and fit
as the day we left the ranch.”

Jane was watching as the
herd in front of them was being moved into the auction yard. “We
need to register a brand.”

“We’ve got an earmark
registered.”

“I know that. But you can’t
read an earmark from a distance like you can a brand.” She pointed
at the cattle that were moving past them. “With no fences, it won’t
be long before ours and other ranchers’ stock get mixed up on the
range.”

“Did you have something in
mind?”

She nodded. “If you used the
large half-circle dotting iron and the bar iron below and slightly
to the right of it, the brand would look like the numeral
two.”

“That’s it? Just a
two?”

“A two alone. Since it’s so
simple, I doubt that anyone else has registered it yet. But with
only two irons it should make branding fast and relatively
easy.”

He grinned. “I’ll see if I
can register that when we get back.”

“Do you need me to stay
through the auction?”

“I guess not. Where did you
want to go?”

“I promised Josiah that I’d
buy him some leather boots and I need to buy some ready made
dresses for Anna and for me. Neither one of us has the patience to
sew.”

“Do you want me to send one
of the men with you?”

“To watch me try on
dresses?”

“Okay. Be careful. This may
look like a civilized city but it’s a long way from being
Manhattan.”

“The market’s right down
there on the River, Thomas. You can see it from here and they have
constables that walk through all the stalls. It’s perfectly safe.”
She climbed down off the fence and started away.

“Jane?” Thomas
said.

She turned back.
“Yes?”

“Now don’t get
mad.”

“That doesn’t work. Say
whatever you think is going to make me mad or don’t say
it.”

He gestured toward the eight
women that had come along on the drive. “Those painted ladies have
been a lot of help on the ranch and they even stood night watches
on the trail. We’ve never paid them a copper cent since the day
they arrived. I was just wondering…”

“If you want to pay them, go
ahead.”

“No. Well yes, that
too.”

“Too?” She stepped up onto
the lower rail and looked up at him. “Spit it out?”

“It’d be very thoughtful of
you if you’d ask if any of them wanted to go to the market with
you.”

“What?”

“I asked you not to get
mad.”

“And I told you that doesn’t
work.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to be
a little civil to them, Jane. You treat them like dirt.”

“They’re whores,
Thomas.”

“They’re whores because
life’s beaten them down.”

“They’ve made their
choices.”

“They haven’t had the
choices that you have.”

She looked toward the women
then back at her husband. “If they want to go to the market, they
don’t need me.”

“You may not have noticed,
but they’re not all that self-confident.”

“Well they can go with the
men after the auction.”

“The men are going to
collect their pay and go off to get drunk and to look for other
women.”

“Other whores, you
mean?”

“Yes. That’s what I
mean.”

She looked again at the
eight women who were standing alone in a group. “I can’t believe
you’d ask me to do this, Thomas,” she said angrily.

He took off his hat and
scratched his head, then put his hat back on. “No. I can’t believe
I did either. Have a good time at the market, Jane.”

She hopped off the rail,
turned and began striding toward the river then stopped. “Shit.”
She turned back and walked toward the group of women.

The first of the eight to
notice Jane bumped the woman beside her with her elbow. The chain
reaction from woman to woman soon turned every head and produced
dead silence. Jane was surprised and a little ashamed to see the
fear on their faces. “I was going to visit the market and wondered
if any of you ladies would like to come,” she said.

They looked at each other
but no one spoke.

“I have some money for each
of you too,” Jane added. “My husband decided to pay you the same as
the drovers.”

“That’s very kind of you,
Ma’am,” the oldest of the group said. “But you don’t want to be
seen with us in the New Orleans market. Folks will think you’re one
of us.”

“I grew up with folks
thinking badly of me and it never bothered me,” Jane replied,
surprising herself by her own sincerity. “Anyone that wants to come
is welcome. I don’t know if I have enough money to pay you all that
we owe you at the moment, but I’ll advance you whatever you need to
buy what you want, and we can settle the difference after the
auction.”

“I’m Nellie Coyne,” the
older woman said. “That is, if you didn’t know my name.”

Jane shook the woman’s hand.
“No. I didn’t know your name, Miss Coyne, I’m ashamed to
say.”

“It’s Mrs. Coyne but I’d
like it if you called me Nellie. Nobody ever calls me Mrs. Coyne
any more.”

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