Chasing the Texas Wind Page 19

  Ham joined a crowd of men out in the front yard. John rolled him into the middle of the group and everyone sat cross-legged on the ground or grabbed a stump or fallen tree. They were passing around baskets filled with ham and hot rolls, pulling plums off the trees overhead, and dipping water straight out of the well in their midst. Many of the men were Tejanos, many Americans. They jostled and joked in Spanish and English and those who were not known were introduced around. Ham felt very out of place among these hale and hearty roughhewn soldiers.

  Zachary eased himself down onto a log at Ham’s side. “We’re both cripples right now, Colonel, so don’t look so forlorn. Mammy promise you a miracle, too? She said she owed you one. You’re in her circle of grace, for sure. Things happen when Mammy prays.”

  Ham touched his stump gingerly and was stupefied to find it felt perfectly normal. He had hardly taken a moment to look at it as he dressed, afraid of what he might see. The feverish feeling had vanished. He glanced again at Zachary and saw that the young man’s bruises and cuts seemed to have faded with remarkable rapidity. Zachary moved freely, except for a pronounced stiffness in the midsection.

  “So, Colonel Jessup, what’s next?” Jude Morrow asked as he unrolled a map and spread it on the grass before the group.

  “We have to find a good, high spot where both the town of Avecita and two or three possible ambush sites along the road can easily be seen,” Ham replied. “Someone will be up there coordinating the attacks. People down below will have to be able to look for a signal there that tells them one job’s done and the other’s got to be done immediately. I believe the ammo in town’s got to blow first, because it’s static. We know exactly where it is. We’ll have to keep men all along the trail to watch for the wagon and be ready to destroy it too. Now, as long as Chaco’s alive and as soon as he knows there’s a threat he’ll be on us like a bulldog trying to salvage something. When I said he was a chuckle-headed fool I didn’t mean he wasn’t dedicated. So somebody’s got to make sure he is eliminated.

  “Our goals are these: First, figure out Chaco’s timeline and route; second, establish the site where the watching and communication take place; third, destroy the guns in Avecita; fourth, destroy the wagonload; and fifth, cut off the head to kill the snake.”

  “I thought we were going to leave Chaco alive because he’d be discredited and humiliated,” Zachary ventured.

  “That would suit me,” Ham said wryly, “but the safety of these people and the success of this operation are more important than stroking our egos with Chaco’s humiliation. Any chance anybody gets, take him out, as long as it doesn’t compromise the rest of the mission. Ampudia will get the message just as clear.”

  “I think the signal post should be here,” Jude suggested, pointing to a ridge not far from where the ambush of Chaco’s honor guard had taken place. “There’s a clear view for miles down the road and back to town. We’ll use mirrors if it’s sunny and watchfires if not.”

  “Good enough,” Ham nodded. “I don’t know the exact lay of the land like you fellows do, so I defer to your knowledge. Make sure somebody very sharp mans that post. It’s critical to the success of the operation.”

  “Too true,” Jude nodded. “For now we send five men, I think, to check things out in town, establish the hilltop post, make a test of its effectiveness, and identify possible ambush locations. If Chaco’s already on the move with his first load those fellows will have to high-tail it back and get things moving fast.” He pointed out five men. “You, go.”

  The men immediately rose and trotted off. “Whew,” Ham said. “No kiss for the sweetheart? No packing up gear?”

  “They came packed,” Jude replied. “And their sweethearts are back home, I guess, if they have any. Zach, I believe I’m charged with getting you back to bed, and Ham, you have a date with Obed.”

  “Aw, Jude, I feel first-rate,” Zachary protested, flexing his huge arms. “You know what Mammy says about doctors and their instructions.”

  “These instructions come from your sister,” Jude said. “She who will not be denied. Bed.”

  Before they parted Ham grabbed Zachary by the arm. “You don’t seriously think that Mammy’s salve is going to cure you in time to get in on this, do you?”

  “No,” Zachary scoffed. Then he sobered. “But I believe God will.”

  Ham found Obed waiting in Jesse’s bedroom with Maeve. “The toes move!” he exclaimed. “Obed, how in the world did you make this thing so fast?”

  “Actually, sir, Mr. John Duvall, he send a messenger to say you need a new leg right after he join up with the rescuers down there. He give me what he think are the measurements to get me started. And we had that.” Obed pointed to a watercolor sketch over the fireplace. It showed two men, a red-haired giant and a smaller, slenderer dark-haired man, both in army officer uniform, arms around each other’s shoulders, grinning. “We knew Major Costain’s size very well, so it helped to nail yours down a bit closer.”

  “This is the painting Zachary was talking about. Jude Morrow’s son painted that,” Ham said wonderingly to Maeve. “He and Dan were cousins, of course. He was a war correspondent for some newspaper, just a kid, maybe Zachary’s age. We were waiting for that last assignment. I’d just been promoted to Captain, and I was ragging Dan because he was still a first lieutenant. Look at us. You’d think it was a friendship nothing could break.”

  Maeve stared hard at the picture. “I’ve seen work like that before,” she said. “Oh, Ham. I didn’t recognize General Morrow in that black hair and skin dye. He was the first one who came to the cantina. You read my diary. The young man who was tortured. He was the one who had the falcon. It was Jude Morrow’s son.”

  “Merciful God,” Ham murmured. “Of course. He made these magnificent maps, sketches and drawings of the soldiers – what a gift he had. Jude hasn’t talked to you about it any more?”

  “Not a word,” Maeve said. They realized suddenly that Obed stood patiently waiting with the new leg.

  “Obed, this is magnificent,” Ham said as he strapped the leg on.

  “I hear that General Santa Ana use cork to make his,” Obed ventured. “So I try it. It’s sure light enough. Interesting to work with.”

  “What is this in the lining?”

  “Mammy give me the lambskin she use in the babies’ beds,” Obed replied, “And I add some bladders with salt water to make it more comfortable.”

  “Maeve, this is – I can’t – After this is all over, we are going dancing,” Ham vowed as he moved around the room. Maeve watched him with shining eyes. “That is, if dancing is permitted here.”

  “The Duvalls, they always have a big celebration after a job done, and yes, sir, they sure do dance,” Obed grinned. “I thought you might like a little spring in your step, sir. I’m glad you’re pleased, but two things you must remember. One is, this is a gentleman’s leg, not a soldier’s leg. Dancing, perhaps you can do. All this climbing buildings and such you did with the other, I don’t believe so, sir. Other thing is, Mammy say tomorrow your day, not today, so please don’t get me in no trouble with her.”

  “I’m not going to get myself in trouble with her, either,” Ham laughed, obediently sitting down in the wheelchair. “And pleased does not cover it, Obed. Does not begin to cover it. God bless you. You have an extraordinary gift.”

  “My gift is to make the wood do what God need it to do,” Obed smiled. “The things God need come in all sizes, all shape, all kind of wood. If I may, sir, I see just a few adjustments I should make before tomorrow. I promise to bring it back,” he said, seeing Ham’s devastated look as he took the leg and headed for the door.

  “Don’t you dare suppose that just because you have a new leg you can go on this mission,” Maeve warned.

  “I don’t dare suppose,” Ham replied meekly. “God has been so good to me I’m not going to risk losing any of these mountains of blessings, not the least of which is your contented smile beaming down on me. We may have to tie Z
ach down, though. He’s positive he’ll be in on the mission.”

  “I’m positive Jesse will do the tying down herself,” Maeve laughed. “She’s so protective of Zachary, and he acts like she was his mother, not his sister.”

  “Well, Jesse’s lost a lot already,” Ham grunted. “She doesn’t want to lose any more.”

  “Of course,” Maeve said sympathetically. “And what would we do without Zachary? I can’t believe the first time I saw him was only six days ago. So much has happened, and I feel like we know him better than people we knew for years.”

  “I guess that’s what fellowship in Christ is like,” Ham said. “I lived like a monk while I waited for you to come home. I read the Scriptures, but I never went to church or met any other believers. Zach’s the first one I came to know as a brother in Christ. It’s a sweet thing. We’ve got to get into a church when we go home.”

  “Amen.” Maeve sighed. “But I will miss these Duvalls and Costains.”

  “Oh, yes,” Ham agreed. “And that reminds me. I need to have a talk with Lemuel McElroy.”

  “But Ham, he doesn’t seem to like you,” Maeve protested.

  “Exactly why I must talk to him,” Ham replied. “I’m sick of all this petting and praising. I need some good old-fashioned vinegar and he’s just the man to give it to me.”

  “I don’t understand,” Maeve confessed.

  “I don’t either,” Ham shrugged. “So I’m going to find out why Mr. McElroy doesn’t like me and try to change his opinion.”

  “Jude!” Ham called out as he caught a glimpse of Morrow passing through the hall. “Where would I find Mr. McElroy?”

  “McElroy?” Jude echoed. “Ready to put your head in the lion’s mouth again? McElroy doesn’t reside on the plantation. We can send a message that you want to see him, but he’s got a law office in Rio Negro where he has a real job and real responsibilities. So it’s anybody’s guess when or if he’ll be able to come out here. Besides, he won’t be anxious to see you, given that you’ve dashed his most cherished hope of full-fledged war with Ampudia. But he never wanted to answer the question of whether we could really win it.”

  “But you were all ready to go along with it!” Ham protested.

  “Honestly, Ham, I’m not so sure we aren’t still going to have to fight that battle,” Jude answered. “Do you think Ampudia is relying on Chaco’s last load of arms alone? Isn’t there a chance he’ll still attack?”

  “I definitely need to talk to McElroy,” Ham grunted. “Do we have enough men to win at Monterrey?”

  “McElroy’s your man for numbers, Ham,” Jude shrugged. “I’m just a part-timer here. If congress weren’t busy doing nothing important right now I’d be in Washington.”

  “I forgot,” Ham exclaimed. “Congratulations.”

  Jude smiled. “Kentucky called, and I answered.”

  “McElroy,” Ham said doggedly. “Where’s his office?”

  “You’re going there?” Jude tried not to look at the wheelchair. “Ham, send James with a message. He’ll come here, eventually.”

  “Jude, there’s no time for eventually, and besides, if I’m going to grovel, short of having Mammy come along to wipe my chin, I can’t think of a better way to do it.”

  “Maybe you should just park outside his office with a tin cup,” Jude said wryly.

  James and Ham sat in a buggy outside Lemuel McElroy’s law office in Rio Negro over two hours until a clerk ushered them in.

  “I apologize for coming without an appointment, Mr. McElroy,” Ham began as James wheeled him into the inner office, where McElroy sat writing at his desk.

  “Claude, we won’t be needing you,” McElroy said to his clerk without looking up. “And James, please wait outside.” Both young men departed. McElroy set down his pen and rose to his feet.

  ““How dare you, sir?” he demanded. “How dare you park yourself outside my office and make a spectacle of yourself before the whole town, when you know I have business I must conduct, people I must see, while the whole Republic of Texas gets to know I have kept a wounded war hero waiting two hours at my door? Haven’t you garnered enough pity and admiration, shamed me enough before the people I wanted most to serve and earn the respect of?”

  Ham opened his mouth but no words came out. McElroy was actually shaking. Ham closed his mouth, opened it again, and said, “Mr. McElroy, I’m sorry. God is my witness. I never thought I was humiliating you. In the years since I lost my leg I have never before appeared in a public or semipublic place without at least a semblance of the illusion of being a whole man. My purpose in doing what I did was to humiliate myself, to do some penance for acting like a fool in front of a man who’s got a whole lot bigger view of Texas and life than I do.”

  McElroy blinked and appeared to be trying to digest that. He seemed to at least partially succeed, and sat down again. “What did you wish to see me about, Colonel Jessup?”

  “Jude Morrow gave me a metaphorical kick in the pants this morning over something I failed to reckon on regarding Ampudia,” Ham replied. “Do you believe he’ll still make a stand at Monterrey even without Chaco’s guns?

  “I do.”

  “Do you believe he could still win without them?”

  “I believe Santa Ana is absolutely determined to subdue Texas,” McElroy answered. “Texas has defied him, and he can’t let that pass. He’s got to beat us down, and being short two little wagonloads of guns won’t stop him from trying. Ampudia is worried about the moral of his troops if he keeps running, that they’ll scatter before he gets to Saltillo. Thanks to you we won’t even try to meet him when he stops.”

  “Well, I came for vinegar, and I think I got vitriol instead,” Ham said, shaking himself like a wet dog. “What do we do, Mr. McElroy? Do we have enough men to accomplish both objectives? Do we have enough time?”

  “I had a very simple plan regarding Monterrey,” McElroy replied. “We can muster 500 men, including the 200 you wanted to eliminate the weapons. At this point it seems wisest to continue with your plan, hoping the men sent out for intel will tell us it can be accomplished with fewer people. We absolutely must make sure no one escapes to give Ampudia warning. If he is counting on those guns he will at least delay a little to find out what happened to them. Whatever manpower we have left I want to send to Monterrey to try to organize a resistance.”

  “How are people fixed for arms?” Ham asked.

  “There are never enough arms to fight a war,” McElroy replied. “Why do you ask?”

  “I have a new idea,” Ham said with a little smile. “Chaco helped us rescue Zach. Maybe he’ll consent to help us win the battle of Monterrey.”

  “I believe you are mad, sir,” McElroy said wonderingly.

  “Possibly,” Ham agreed. “But we’re trying to fight a madman, aren’t we?”

  Chaco swore violently as a wheel on his wagon collapsed under the load of guns. “It’s just too heavy, Teniente,” a man said. “We have to make two trips.”

  “It will make us late,” Chaco fumed. “Ampudia needs these guns.”

  A man on horseback careened into town and up to the cantina. He threw himself off the horse, white with dust, gasping for breath.

  “Teniente!” he cried. “The generalissimo’s compliments!”

  “Who are you?” Chaco demanded.

  “Marco de Rivera,” the man replied. “I come from the Chicura regiment moving north to join Ampudia at Monterrey.”

  “What is the password?” Chaco demanded.

  “Aguila,” de Rivera replied. Santa Ana was known as ‘the eagle’ among his followers. “We have come across some people we think may be spies and we need you to help us identify them.”

  “What people?” Chaco asked.

  “A woman with two men,” de Rivera answered. “One of the men is a young gringo, very big, injured, seems to be dying. The other man has only one leg. The woman is very beautiful, a Tejano, I believe. There were others, but they escaped us.”


  “How far away is your regiment?” Chaco demanded, controlling his excitement with difficulty.

  “Less than five miles north of here, Teniente,” de Rivera replied. “And we can assist you in moving the weapons.”

  “Get a supply wagon over here as fast as you can,” Chaco said. “One of our wagons was stolen, and we will need a new one to move the rest of the guns.”

  “Of course, Teniente,” de Rivera said, saluting. “And should I send our wheelwright?” he asked, glancing at Chaco’s wagon.

  “Yes, yes,” Chaco snapped. “I am coming with you to see about these spies. Hurry, you fool. When the wagon is repaired and all the guns are loaded, you will follow them and join up with us, understood?”

  “Si, Teniente. El Dio watches out for his children,” one of Chaco’s men exclaimed, crossing himself. “We will lighten this load and be ready for the other wagon when it gets here.”

  Di Rivera vaulted back onto his horse. Chaco started to follow suit but Mia suddenly rushed up to him and grabbed his arm.

  “Chaco, that man,” Mia exclaimed.

  “What man, fat stupid cow?” Chaco snarled, flinging her away from him. “The old man who sells silver? The one-legged spy? Shut up!” Chaco sped away with the newcomer.

  “What’s the matter, Mia?” one of the idlers who lounged around town, Juan Olivera, asked.

  “That man Chaco left with,” Mia wept. “I saw him at the cantina talking with Vienta one time.”

  “So what?” Juan shrugged. “Lots of men come to the cantina, and they all want to talk to the pretty lady there.”

  “That man came during siesta time,” Mia said. “Americans come during siesta time, not Mexicans. I think that man is one of the spies Vienta told things to about Chaco.”

  “What?” Juan gasped. “What do you know about spies coming to the cantina?”

  “Vienta had a funny wood thing on the door,” Mia replied, “and I saw a man come to the cantina and look at it, and look at a ring he had with him. I saw Vienta wearing the ring later. They looked alike, the way they were made. He was an American, and he went in at siesta time and stayed awhile when nobody else was there. Other men have come like that, Americans, but I don’t know what they said because they talked in English.”