The Yellow Rose (7 page)

General Juan Almonte had led his division on the north side of the sweep toward the Sabine River. He had been obedient to Santa Anna’s orders to burn everything in sight, and his men had killed those they found. There were few of them, and Almonte was disappointed, as were the men, who had looked forward to massacring the fleeing Texans.

“Lieutenant Alanso!” Almonte called out. He waited until the young lieutenant rode up to him and saluted. “Yes, my general.”

“Take a detail farther north. I have received word from our scouts that there are several ranches there. You know what to do when you find them.”

Lieutenant Alanso laughed. He was a handsome young man with many sweethearts and had a brilliant future in Mexico. Not only General Almonte but also President Santa Anna had his eye on this young man who came from a noble family. His eyes gleamed, and he laughed. “They run like rabbits, General.”

“You know what to do with rabbits, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, my general. I will rendezvous with you just this side of the river. There will be nothing left alive where I travel.”

Lieutenant Alanso drove his men hard. They rode all morning and by midafternoon had found two ranches, both of them deserted. His men burned them and took what loot was left. At two o’clock a scout came riding in, his face covered with dust. It was hot, but he ignored it, and a smile came to his lips as he said, “I have found a ranch over there, Lieutenant Alanso. It is deserted, I think.”

Alanso stretched in his saddle and laughed. “I wish all soldiering were this easy, Sergeant. Come, lead us to it.”

He spurred his fine horse and led his troopers, twenty-two of them, at a fast gallop. His mind was not really occupied with the ranch they intended to destroy. He was thinking ahead to the time when the entire army would come against the ragtag troops that Sam Houston was supposedly gathering. Alanso knew that his men had found whiskey at the last ranch they had burnt to the ground, and many were half drunk, but this did not trouble him.
I will sober them up after we burn this ranch. Perhaps there will be a fresh beef or two there. Then we will ride ahead and rendezvous with the general.

Professor Fergus St. John Nightingale III closed his eyes with ecstasy. He was seated in a copper tub, his spidery arms and legs hanging over the edge, and his man James Langley, from time to time, dipped down into the soapy water with a ladle and poured it over his master’s head.

Clay was watching this phenomenon with disbelief. He shook his head and said, “I don’t see how you can worry about takin’ a bath when there’s about five thousand Mexicans about to drop in on us. We need a bath about like a cat needs a wedding license.”

“Oh, I say, old chap, don’t worry. Our Comanche friends are keeping track of them. I don’t know how it is, but those fellows seem to make themselves invisible. They could hide behind a pocket watch, I do believe.”

Clay got up and stared off toward the south. He shaded his eyes but still could see nothing. “It bothers me, them Indians. I ain’t used to trustin’ them.”

“Oh, you can trust these fellows. They’d like nothing better than to collect a few scalps. Better they get the Mexican scalps than ours!”

Suddenly, Fergus rose up out of the tub and stood there gazing off into the distance. James Langley stood to one side with a large, fluffy towel, which the professor wrapped around himself.

Julie had been watching the scene. She had been on the front porch sitting there with Jerusalem, when she suddenly laughed. “Look at that crazy Englishman. I never saw such a long, skinny man in all my life. He’s skinny as a rail, but he’s tougher than he looks.”

“I’m glad he’s here, Julie, but those Comanches scare me.” Jerusalem was thinking, at that moment, about the time she had been kidnapped by the Comanches. If Clay had not come and taken her out of the camp of one of the most fierce war chiefs of the Comanche, she knew she would be dead by this time.

Julie got up and watched as Langley began handing Fergus his clothes. He wore the fanciest clothes that had ever been seen in Texas.

They perhaps were fitting for Windsor Castle, but not in this place. “I’m worried about the men,” Julie said.

“So am I. Zane and Brodie are country bred, but Rice is no soldier. I don’t even know if he can shoot. Well, God will have to take care of them,” Jerusalem said. She suddenly straightened up. “Look.”

“What is it?”

“See that dust over there? I think it’s the Indians. Come on. Let’s go see what they found out.”

Julie followed Jerusalem to where Fergus was putting on a top hat.

He turned to beam at them, saying, “Nothing like a bath to invigorate a fellow, I always say.”

“Well, I say I hope them Indians found out something about the army,” Clay said. He stood there looking, and the three Comanches pulled up. Young Man Afraid of Thunder slipped off his horse, keeping a firm hold on his rifle. Clay had never seen him without it.

“Soldier come from there,” Young Man said, pointing back over his shoulder.

The other two Indians dismounted, and Paco said, “Smoke behind them. Burning houses, I think.”

“How many?” Clay asked quickly.

Paco held up his fingers spread wide, closed his fists, then opened them again.

“About twenty,” Clay murmured. “Could be worse. How long before they get here?”

“Not long.” Young Man grinned suddenly. “Many scalps.”

Fergus smiled brightly. “I say, this is exciting! A bit of sport.”

Clay said sharply, “This is no game, Fergus.” It seemed natural that he would take charge, and he began to speak rapidly. He noticed that Moriah had come out of the house along with Clinton, and he waited until they were close enough to hear his words. “We’ve got to make them think this place is deserted. We’ll all get under cover where we can’t be seen.

They’ve got to think nobody’s here.”

“And what then, Clay?” Clinton said.

His eyes were big, and his face was pale.

“We’ll let them ride in. They may send a couple of advance scouts, but if they don’t see anybody, they’ll wave the rest of the troop in.”

“What’s the plan, Clay?” Julie asked.

“I’ll knock the officer out of the saddle. Nobody shoots until then.”

“Without warning? That’s not sporting!” Fergus protested.

“It’ll give them time to understand we’re serious. I’m telling you, Fergus, this is no game. We’d better get them all. As soon as you hear my shot, everybody take a man out. Be sure you don’t shoot the same man twice because it’s got to be quick. If they get away, they’ll bring the rest of the army boiling back here.” He paused, then ran his eyes over the group. “Well, there’s me and Clinton. You Fergus and your man, that’s four. Three Comanches—that makes seven of us. I wish we had more.”

Jerusalem said at once, “I can shoot as good as most men, and so can Julie. That makes nine.”

“I can shoot, too,” Moriah spoke up. “Zane’s been teaching me, so we have ten.”

“I don’t think you women ought to get involved with this.”

Jerusalem caught his eye and said, “What do you think will happen to us if we don’t stop them?”

Clay knew exactly what was on her mind, and he held her gaze for a moment.

Finally, she said impatiently, “Don’t argue with me, Clay.”

Clay laughed. “All right. I’m the general here. I’m going to place you all where you can’t be seen, but where you can get a clear shot. I’m not sure we’ve got enough muskets.”

“No problem there, old boy,” Fergus said. “I’ve got five sporting rifles besides my own. Should be able to blast the blighters with no trouble, eh?”

The afternoon shadows were beginning to fall as Clay placed his people in position, but the azure sky was marked by diaphanous clouds. He had thought it all out carefully, and though Clay sometimes seemed lackadaisical, now he moved with decision. In the back of his mind was the knowledge that if his decisions were bad, they would all die. But he let none of this show in his expression. “Moriah, I want you and Clinton upstairs. Each of you take one of the windows up there, but don’t let yourself be seen. Don’t poke your muskets out until the right time.”

“All right, Clay,” Moriah said and turned to go.

“I want to stay down on the ground, Clay,” Clinton said. “I ain’t sure I can shoot so good shootin’ down.”

“You can’t afford to miss, Clinton. Now, don’t argue with me. Get on up there and be sure you don’t let yourself be seen.” He did not wait but turned to say, “Julie, you and Jerusalem take the two windows on the first floor. You heard what I said to Moriah and Clinton. If they see a sign of a weapon, they can pull back, surround us, and we won’t have a chance.”

“All right, Clay,” Jerusalem said. “Come along, Julie.”

“Fergus, why don’t you and James take the barn.”

“Where are you going?” Fergus asked.

“Right over there at that smokehouse. Remember now. You wait until I fire the first shot before you cut down on them.”

“What about my Indian friends?”

Clay had been thinking about the Comanches. He looked at the three who were standing there regarding him, all holding their rifles. “I never saw a Comanche that could be seen if he doesn’t want to.” He smiled.

Fox, the tallest and leanest of the men, returned his grin. “That is true,” he said. “What do you want us to do?”

“Find you a place where you can’t be seen. When I knock the officer out of the saddle, get you a man apiece. I’m hoping the rest of them will turn and run. Don’t let any of them get away, or they’ll bring other soldiers back.”

Paco nodded firmly. He seemed to be the leader of the three. “Good.

We will take all their scalps.”

“You are welcome to anything they’ve got, including their guns,”

Clay said. “Now scatter.”

Clay waited until the Indians seemed to vanish from sight. He looked up at the upper windows of the house and saw nothing, and then at the bottom two windows. Everyone was hidden from sight. From the barn he could not see a sign of the two men hidden there. He walked to the middle of the yard and said, “Can you all see me clear?”

“I could blast you right where you stand,” Julie called out.

“Well, don’t do it.”

Suddenly, Jerusalem said, “I see some dust clouds, Clay. I think they’re coming.”

“All right. Remember everybody,” he shouted, “don’t let yourself be seen until you see me knock my man out of the saddle. If you do, we’re in trouble.” He moved back quickly to the smokehouse, stepped inside, and closed the door. It was dark in there, and he heard the hum of insects but ignored them. He had already found a gap between the boards, and he held his own musket up but did not insert it through the opening.

He stood there looking and found himself wishing that he could pray. It was not the first time that he had envied those who seemed to have this privilege. He discovered that his hands were trembling, and he was shocked. He looked down at them and murmured, “I didn’t think anything in the world could make me do that.” He knew, however, that it was not fear for his own life or even for the men. It was for Jerusalem and the women. He knew what would happen if his plan didn’t work, so he bowed his head for a moment, pulled his hat off, and stood there in the murky light that filtered through the cracks. “Lord,” he said, “I got no business calling on You—and I don’t for myself—but I’d appreciate it if You would take care of the womenfolk.” He finally shrugged his shoulders, put his hat back on, and then moved to watch as the Mexican soldiers drew closer to the ranch.

Lieutenant Alanso pulled the troop up, and as his horse moved restlessly, he stared at the house.

“It’s deserted, sir,” his sergeant said.

“I think so. Go take a look, Sergeant.”

The sergeant eagerly spurred his horse forward. He rode at a full gallop, raising a cloud of fine dust, until he came to the yard in front of the house. He stepped off his horse, tied him at the hitching post, and then went straight into the house. He had his rifle in his hand, and he looked around and saw no one. Quickly, he whirled and went back on the porch.

“There’s nobody here, sir,” he yelled toward the others, who had remained a distance from the house.

Alanso nodded. “All right, men. Let’s burn the place.” He brought the troop to a gallop until they were all gathered in front of the yard. Alanso laughed and said, “No women for you this time, men, but we’ll catch some for you soon enough. Take what you want from this place and then burn—”

He did not finish his sentence, for a bullet struck him directly in the mouth. As he fell from his horse, he faintly heard the fusillade of shots, and he died before he touched the earth.

Julie whispered, “That soldier’s coming in the house.”

Jerusalem said, “Quick. Hide, Julie.” She watched as Julie ran down the hall, and then quickly she ducked into the storeroom. She was breathing hard, and fear crept up on her of what would happen if Clay’s plan did not work. She stood perfectly still, the musket in her hands. As she heard the soldier’s foot strike the porch, she pulled the hammer back, which made a slight click in the stillness. She knew she could not shoot until Clay gave the signal, but she stood there thinking of Moriah and Mary Aidan and even Julie. She found herself holding her breath, and then she heard the heavy steps come inside the house and walk around. For a moment, her breathing stopped. She was afraid he would come and jerk the door open. She reversed her grip and held the butt forward, planning to strike the man in the face if necessary.

And then she heard the soldier go outside and call something to his officer. Quickly, Jerusalem lowered the rifle, and she heard the troops yelling at one another. She heard the soldier move inside again, and suddenly a shot rang out from the outside.

That’s Clay’s shot,
she thought. She stepped outside, and the soldier whirled to see her. He grinned and moved toward her, but Jerusalem lifted the rifle and pulled the trigger. The shot caught him in the chest and drove him over backward. He dropped his musket, but even as he lay there with blood pouring from his chest, he was struggling to remove his pistol from the holster. At once Jerusalem came forward and put her hand on his arm. He looked up at her and said something about his mother, then his eyes glazed and he went limp. “Julie, get in here!” she shouted.