Texas Blue

chapter 4



November 20, 1875



LEWTON PATERSON SETTLED INTO THE PRIVATE CAR Duncan had reserved for the three men traveling north. His friend had paid for the entire car, probably planning to get to know the men before they reached Whispering Mountain. Though the train car wasn’t plush, it was comfortable with a stocked bar. There was a seating area for six and a game table for four as well as a few chairs by the windows for those who wanted to watch the country moving by in solitude. The car cost Duncan ten times what three seats up front in standard would have cost, but McMurray obviously wanted to impress the men.

Remembering Walter Freepost the Fourth from the saloon last night, Lewt doubted the man would have been impressed, but Lewt was. He’d spent more time riding with the horses than in seats on trains, and even a simple car like this seemed pure luxury.

I could get used to this, he thought. Who knows, they might like me at the ranch. Maybe I could just pick the McMurray woman I like best. Maybe she wouldn’t think being married to me was so bad. Every time we travel I’ll insist she has the best, and, of course, I’ll be right by her side. There was a time when he’d thought the good life was eating regularly; now he wanted more, but dreaming wouldn’t make it happen and he knew this journey would be no more than a dream. In real life, rich women from good families don’t marry gamblers. But if he was going to dream, he planned to at least let the next few days be a good dream. At the end of the week he could go back to reality.

He recalled how peacefully Walter the Fourth had been snoring as he and the bartender from Crystal’s loaded him on a train heading to California just before dawn. Lewt had changed clothes with the man, of course, and taken half of his luggage in one turn of the cards. Like most bad gamblers, Walter wouldn’t accept his losses and quit. He kept offering Lewt more and more to toss into the pot. Lewt made sure that once the man sobered up somewhere in the territories, Walter would have enough money for passage back home, though he doubted Walter would have done the same for him if the cards had played out differently.

Lewt had worked three months, spending only what he had to, sleeping in borrowed bunks and eating the salty, free food on the bar, in order to save enough to buy the suit and ring he’d packed away. At the time he saw it as a symbol of wealth, but he wouldn’t wear it for this trip. For the next week he’d play his part. Maybe even flirt with the ladies a little.

If Walter Freeport the Fourth was fool enough to come back to Austin, he’d never find the Harry West he’d had drinks with last night.

Lewt smiled. The ladies didn’t know it, but even if they picked him as a husband, they’d be doing better than Walter. If he ever had a lady at his side, he’d treat her like a queen.

A rattling came from the platform as suitcases and feet hit the metal steps. Lewt turned to welcome the other guests for the trip and size up his competition.

A young man in his early twenties stepped in first loaded down with bags. He wasn’t tall, but he had a wide smile and a good honest face. If Lewt were guessing, he’d say the young man was not more than a year out of school. Probably one of those big colleges back east.

Behind him stood a short woman who barely fit through the door. She carried a birdcage and wore a hat almost a foot high as if the feathers and bows would somehow make her taller.

“This is it, Mother,” the young man said. “Isn’t it nice? I’m sure we’ll be comfortable here.”

The little lady’s cheeks dimpled with pleasure. “Lovely,” she said in a sweet voice. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but I worry about coming along, Davis. It isn’t right to just show up.”

“It’s all right,” Davis said as he settled her on the small love seat across from Lewt. “I’m sure no one will mind. I’ve no doubt the McMurrays are as used to entertaining on a moment’s notice as we are at home. When Uncle Phil wrote Duncan, he said the Allenders would always be welcome at his family ranch. Besides”—he winked—“they’ll love you. Everyone does.”

Lewt stood politely and introduced himself, using his own name but adding the Third to it, hoping that would add respectability.

Davis Allender and his mother seemed delighted to have the company. Apparently she’d been visiting friends and checking on her son when the invitation came from Duncan. There had been no time for her to write ahead and ask if she could accompany her son, and the young man didn’t look like the type who would abandon his mother even to go courting.

Mrs. Allender was one of those women made of sugar, Lewt decided. She had apple round cheeks and tiny hands as white as bleached cotton. She preceded every question with “If you don’t mind my asking . . .” or “If you’ll be so kind to tell us . . .” When Lewt showed her kindness and respect, he won the approval of both the Allenders.

He even told her the bird was cute, when in truth he was sure it was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen. Mother Nature must have had an off day to put the strange colors of feathers together.

Before he could settle back in his chair, another man boarded. He was of medium build, but he carried himself with the confidence of a warrior preparing to face a battle. His handshake was fast, his grip tight, his speech clipped, as though he didn’t want to waste a moment more than necessary with small talk.

Lewt couldn’t figure out whether he liked the man, and from the way Davis Allender watched him, neither could the young man.

“I’m Boyd Sinclair,” the stranger announced. “Rode half the night to make it in time for this train.” He seemed to look around as if to make sure everyone was listening, then added, “I had my man load my horses. Can’t wait to see how the McMurray horses measure up to my stock.”

Davis grinned. “I thought we were going to meet the ladies, not the horses.”

“Of course,” Boyd nodded. “I’m just thinking ahead. Normally, I wouldn’t travel to meet a woman, but I’ve heard of the Whispering Mountain stock. The trip will be worth it just to examine their lines, and if I happen to find a suitable bride, all the better.”

Mrs. Allender whispered, “Oh my.”

Lewt laughed, then whispered back to only her, “I do hope he’s talking about the horses when he mentioned examining their lines.”

The little lady blushed.

They all took their seats as the train started to roll. Mrs. Allender looked nervous, but as soon as the train leveled off in speed, her son was up walking the length of the car as if he could help move the train along faster.

Lewt decided to play the host and offered everyone a drink. Mrs. Allender took water, Davis asked if there was any hot tea, and Boyd asked for brandy.

While Lewt rummaged in the tiny pantry, young Davis leaned into the doorway and asked, “How long?”

“Before the trains it would have taken three or four days, I’m guessing, but now, we’ll be there before dark.” Lewt had never been this far north, but he’d heard Duncan talk about the trip when he went home. Texas had been settled from south to north. The farther up the state you went, the more western and less southern the country and the people became.

Boyd Sinclair leaned on the other side of the tiny pantry door. “I’d rather have made the trip on horseback, but Duncan informed me that the offer to stay at Whispering Mountain was only extended for this week. We arrive tonight and leave the following Saturday morning.” He gave the other two men a curious look. “I got the feeling these McMurrays are none too free with invitations. Folks in San Antonio say there’s only one way into their land. It’s over a bridge, and twice they’ve burned the bridge to keep people off their land.”

Davis shrugged. “Duncan asked me three months ago when I came by his office with plans for a new federal building. I’m just the junior architect on the job, but he said then that if the time was right, he’d love me to see his home and meet the family. I thought he was just being polite, but two days ago, he asked me again.”

Lewt handed them both their drinks and carried his and Mrs. Allender’s water back to the seating area. He asked a few questions, but gave nothing about himself away. The conversation moved from Boyd talking about himself and his adventures and Davis talking about the rich blends of architecture that made Texas unique.

Around one o’ clock a porter brought a lunch of fruit and sandwiches. They all moved to the table to eat, then settled into different areas. Mrs. Allender leaned into the love seat and napped. Davis pulled out what looked like a sketchbook and took a seat by the window. Boyd propped his feet on the chair across from him and snored the afternoon away.

Lewt took the other single seat by the window and watched the land move by as he planned. He’d always believed in chances, in playing the odds. No matter how bad his life was, he’d never lost hope that someday, somehow, a chance would open up and he’d be able to make his life better.

Looking back, he realized that from where he started there wasn’t anywhere but up. He’d been born to the town drunk and the woman who cleaned rooms and did laundry at a whorehouse. His father told him once that his mother was too ugly to be a whore, but even when Lewt tried, he couldn’t remember what she looked like.

His first memories were of sitting in the rain waiting for his father to wake up. He’d passed out before they’d made it home, and Lewt was too little to find his way through the backstreets of New Orleans in the dark.

His mother died before he started school and his dad made an effort to stay sober enough to work. Lewt wasn’t old enough to count the months, but he remembered his father bringing home the first of a string of women before summer was over. Some were kind to him, but most showed little interest. They all made him go to school, more to get him out from underfoot than anything else.

No matter what happened, Lewt always believed that somehow a chance would come. The nice women told him to call them Mother, but they still wouldn’t take him with them when they left. The mean ones were usually kicked out by his dad. But, good or bad, when they left, the same thing happened; Lewt’s dad stayed drunk until all the money ran out.

During those weeks, Lewt found it safer to disappear. Once a bartender caught him sleeping just inside the back door of a saloon. He was a big Swede who’d left his children back home when he’d come west. He offered Lewt a job in exchange for a cot in the kitchen and a meal.

Lewt took the job. He worked unnoticed by the drunks and women of the night who came through. He watched and learned. While most kids his age were fishing and playing after school, Lewt was learning to read people. He learned that if he dressed up and wore clean clothes, folks treated him better. They’d give him two bits to watch their horses or run an errand. He figured out when it paid to be invisible and how to lift the change off a drunk as he helped him out the door.

After his father dropped by a few times and took the money he’d saved, Lewt learned about banks. He swore he’d never be poor again, so every town he traveled to that had a bank, Lewt opened an account.

To the rhythm of the train, he drifted to sleep thinking of what it would be like to have a home. He’d never owned anything he couldn’t pack in a suitcase. He’d never belonged anywhere. New Orleans had been the first town he remembered the name of, but there had been other towns, other places before. Once he was old enough, he took the boat from New Orleans to Galveston and began to work his way around Texas.

Some towns were so lawless he slept with a gun next to his pillow. Others were so settled there wasn’t room for a man like him. When he reached Austin, he found the perfect mixture.

The train pulled to a stop at Anderson Glen, rattling everyone in the car awake. Davis jumped up, collecting his bags and helping his mother. Boyd ran to help with the unloading of his horses, and Lewt stood on the platform and studied the sleepy little town.

Duncan had told him once that the town near his ranch had been little more than a trading post when he was a boy, but now, Lewt saw streets, churches, a school, businesses, and a bank. When he married one of the McMurray women, he might buy one of the hotels, or maybe a general store, and this town looked as good as any to settle in.

He checked the watch that had once belonged to Four. If the bank had been open, Lewt would have made a deposit. He liked making deposits. Tellers who wouldn’t speak to him on the street would call him sir as they counted out his money. Once he had an account, he felt like he somehow belonged.

Davis walked up beside Lewt. “Any idea where we can get a buggy?”

“We could probably rent one,” Lewt said, “but my guess is that rig over there is for us.”

A cowhand walked toward them and tipped his hat. “Name’s Sumner,” he said around a cheek full of tobacco. “I’m looking for three gentlemen bound for Whispering Mountain.” He was polite, but not overly friendly. “Any chance you gentlemen are two of them?”

Lewt smiled. “We are, and this sweet young lady”—he motioned toward Mrs. Allender—“is accompanying us this evening.”

The cowhand didn’t question, he just helped with the luggage. They moved to the end of the platform and Davis helped his mother in while Lewt and the cowhand loaded the luggage.

Sumner looked old, but he might still be in his forties. He had a slight limp, but Lewt guessed he wasn’t a man who liked questions. During these days in Texas a curious stranger usually got a wooden cross for free when he departed town.

“Any idea where the third gentleman might be?” Sumner asked as he bit off another chew of tobacco.

Lewt raised his head as two men flew by on horses already at full gallop. “Yep,” he said. “He just passed us. My guess is he doesn’t plan to give the buggy the chance to slow him down.”

One side of Sumner’s mouth rose in a quick grin. “I never slow down a fool.”

“What makes you think he’s a fool?” Lewt wasn’t arguing, only asking.

The old cowhand lifted himself onto the front bench. “He’s headed the wrong direction.”

Lewt laughed and climbed in.