Chapter 2

His joy at eating a real meal at a real table diminished gradually, and by the time he finished his second helping, he was ready to bolt for the door. And it wasn’t just because Mrs. Rose was making him uncomfortable. Straps of silver light fell against the floorboards as the full moon rose over the flat prairie, and he wasn’t accustomed to missing a moonrise. He had seen every single one on his journey west from Ohio, and it didn’t seem right to miss one now.

“Thank you again, ma’am, for the meal. It really was very tasty.”

Mrs. Rose smiled at him. “We’re happy to have you. Mr. Rose has told us so much about your father that you already felt like family.”

Lee laughed. “She’s right, you know. But I can’t tell you how pleased I am to have you here, Malachi. If you’re half the man your father was, you’ll be a treasure to us.”

Mal inclined his head. “Thank you. I knew when I received your letter that I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.”

“Children, go wash your face and hands. It’s time for Bible and prayer.”

Each child got up in turn, like they were going through the motions of a carefully choreographed dance. As soon as they trailed into the kitchen, Mal stood as well.

“I’d like to excuse myself, if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll come outside with you. It seems like a perfect night to enjoy a pipe.”

It was just generally a perfect night, in Mal’s opinion. The air was sweet with spring blossoms, and he could hear calves bawling in the distance. A cool breeze tickled the back of his neck, but it was just enough to revive him after his heavy meal.

“You don’t mind bedding down in the bunkhouse, I trust.”

“Not at all. I’m definitely used to worse.”

Lee nodded and began the careful process of packing his pipe with tobacco. “I expect you have questions about Christian.”

“A few. I don’t recall you mentioning her before.”

“She’s our ward. Her and her sister. We found the two girls when we were passing through Texas, and Mrs. Rose was worried about their heathen souls.”

“She doesn’t look like a heathen to me.”

“No, I guess she resembles her poor mother, God rest her soul.”

“What happened to her mother?”

“She was taken by the Comanche when she was twelve. Apparently, they had her for years, and when the Rangers finally found her, she didn’t want to leave. I don’t know how they finally got her away from the tribe. She had apparently forgotten her Christian name, and what’s worse, she was raising those two little girls to be heathens. She died shortly after they brought her back to San Antonio, and that’s when Mrs. Rose found the two little girls. She feared for their immortal souls, and at the time, she thought God would not see fit to bless us with our own children. She named them Christian and Mercy.”

Mal nodded. It wasn’t an unfamiliar story.

“She struggled to teach them the Bible and about God’s plan for us all. But they’re either too dull or too stubborn to learn. It’s my measured opinion that neither of them ever really had a chance. They’re too savage. They were found too late.” Lee lit his pipe and puffed on it silently as a cloud passed over the moon. “If you ever need anything, though, try to talk to Christian. Mercy is a sweet girl but…sometimes I fear she isn’t all there.”

“What do they do now?”

“Pull their weight, like everybody else. God knows I’ll never get them married off. Mercy isn’t much more than a child, and Christian is far too surly and difficult. You’ll see what I mean.”

“Well, sir, if you don’t mind…”

“Sir? What’s this sir stuff? Didn’t you hear Mrs. Rose say you were practically family? You can call me Lee.”

Mal felt more comfortable with “sir,” or barring that, “Mr. Rose,” but he nodded. “If you don’t mind, Lee, I think I’ll get myself settled for the night.”

Lee invited him to the house for breakfast and promised to show him around the place bright and early. Judging from what Mal had seen when he first rode up to the homestead, there wasn’t much to be shown. The horses were kept in a huge herd to the east of the house, watched by dark little boys who might have been Mexican or Indian. Besides the house, the plot also had two barns, a bunkhouse, and a smoke house. None of it was impressive. But Mal wasn’t there to be impressed

There were only four cowboys in the bunkhouse, and none of them seemed interested in him. He had claimed the only free bed in the small space before dinner, and he was pleased to see nobody had disturbed his saddlebags. Not that he kept anything valuable there to tempt an honest man.