Chronicles Of The Maca Collection

Chapter 18

A discouraged Kasper Schmidt returned to the Rolfe ranch house where his wife, Gerde, and son, Hans, were waiting for him. Dirty, rough workmen"s clothes and boots comprised his outfit. His features, his carriage, his speech all seemed ill-suited to any hard toil. While he had been in Arles, the town"s women had looked at him with approval; rough clothes and boots made no difference to their lingering eyes. He was a handsome man, standing five feet and ten inches when most men were at least three inches shorter. His shoulders were broad, his features straight, the mouth firm, and a small cleft split his chin. The dark mustache was luxurious and glossy.

When the word of the Comanche attack on a small ranch in Texas reached the Schmidt"s in St. Louis, he had not been surprised. Anna was his twin. He had known she was in mortal danger that summer of 1854 when he doubled over in pain at the parochial school where he taught. His frantic search for information from Texas was futile. Who should he write to beside an unknown lawman in a town called Wooden, Texas? No one knew. His father was too busy with his new family and farm to pursue a lost daughter and her children. Their father felt that all had been murdered by the wild men of the West. Kasper had decided then that he must go to Texas to look for Anna and her children. He knew it was not Christian, but he had always disliked that cold, arrogant man she had wed. He felt honor bound not to read the letter she had given him when she left until he was certain she was no longer living.

The pastor in St. Louis had mentioned that a former parishioner had been a hunter and a trapper who had moved his family to a ranch in Texas. The man still did hunting and tracking on the side. Rolfe"s partner was serving as a scout for the 2nd Dragoons. Perhaps both men could help in locating his sister. Kasper had eagerly written down the name, Herman Rolfe and his address. He had written to Rolfe with the offer to hire him as a guide to the town of Wooden. Perhaps they would discover or detect something at his sister"s burned homestead. Gerde insisted that she and Hans travel with him.

“What if you never return from that wild place? We are your family.”

She was very efficient in packing what they needed. Kasper had spoken wildly of a new beginning, perhaps even farming his sister"s farm. Gerde set her lips in a straight line. Her brown eyes smiled only at Hans and Kasper. She was quite aware of the wild schemes Kasper could propose when he was really a teacher or a pastor by nature. The latter was too late for he had married her before finishing school, but he was more than qualified for any teaching post. She would make sure he stayed on the right path.

Rolfe had met them in Arles. Gerde had been horrified at the primitive buildings, the rough men, the streets of ruts, mud, dust, and a whorehouse but one block off the main street. She refused to stay in that sinkhole of iniquity with their three-year-old son. Worse, there was no Lutheran church and no one who spoke Deutsche. Rolfe had solved the problem by suggesting they stay with Mrs. Rolfe and their two children. Mrs. Rolfe was in the family way and needed someone there. She, like Gerde, did not like the town of Arles. Gerde would act as midwife and defray part of the cost of searching for Anna and her children.

Wooden had been a terrible disappointment for Kasper. A plantation owner by the name of O"Neal with the lilt of Ireland in his speech had shown them the Lawrence"s farm and two graves.

“We buried two of the children there. Tis said the Methodist preacher came out to say their prayers for the dead”

“Which two did you bury?” Kasper found it difficult to get the words out.

“There was but one girl in the family that wild, redhead of a daughter, and she"s buried there.” He pointed at one of the graves. “I can"t say which one of the older boys it was. The baby they took.”

“Comanche don"t kill redheads. They avoid them. Young girls they take.” Rolfe had objected.

“Sure, and someone forgot to tell them that. Maybe it had something to do with Lawrence.” O"Neal had sneered on the surname. “One of my hands saw him talking with the Comanche before the attack. He probably set it up. No good Yankee bastard. Why else would they kill a young lass and not the man? We didn"t find a trace of him. I"ve heard he headed south towards Galveston.”

“Who told du dot?” Rolfe could see that Kasper was looking sick.

O"Neal stared at him. “You talk like she did. I thought he was the relative.” He jerked a thumb at Kasper.

“Gentlemen, please, what happened to my sister, Mrs. Lawrence?”

Both men looked at him puzzled. Who would ask such a fool question?

“They took her and the other boys. Do ye want a description of why?”

Kasper had turned white. “No.”

“Did anyvon trail them?” Rolfe was insistent.

“No, we had better things to do than go riding after them without any soldiers. Good day, gentlemen. My Christian duty here is done.” O"Neal mounted his horse and rode off leaving Kasper and Rolfe standing beside two graves set along a crumbling stone fence.

Kasper"s voice was bitter when he spoke. “That man did not like my family. Do you have any idea why?”

Rolfe shrugged and spoke in German. “It could be because he considered them w*********h. Southerners are that way. If you can"t afford a plantation and a couple of slaves, you are w*********h. If your brother-in-law had an education, that probably upset him too. He"s what they call a "Mick on the make." He"s not going to admit that his people had nothing when they arrived here.”

“Will it do any good to pursue this in Wooden?”

“No, they directed us to O"Neal. You must have noticed the man that owned the general store had the same surname, and the sheriff directed us to him. I think they pretty well own this corner of Texas.”

“But why is there animosity for Germans? O"Neal has a brogue.”

“Who knows why? Maybe he wanted this land. Maybe your brother-in-law made him feel inferior.”

Kasper had not understood then and he never understood their thinking or the prejudices in all the towns they went through. Men seemed to respect Rolfe, but were not particularly friendly when they heard Kasper was from St. Louis. Too many Yankees lived there. It was good to be back at the ranch where a certain amount of sanity ruled.

Gerde appeared in the barn doorway. “Welcome home. Mr. Rolfe, you should go in immediately. Your wife has given you another son.”

“Is anything wrong with either one?”

“Why, no, there isn"t. Young James is a handsome young boy that looks very much like Mrs. Rolfe.” Gerde was staring at him as he turned back to the horses. He was as rough as the rest of the male populace. She addressed her next question to Kasper.

“Were you successful?” She knew they were not as Kasper looked dejected.

“No, mein Frau, we weren"t. There was nothing but two graves and no information on the rest of the family other than Mr. Lawrence might have instigated the attack and had traveled south.”

Kasper dumped some hay into the manger, walked to his wife, and gently hugged her. Society forbade a more vigorous reunion in public.

“Where is Hans?”

“He is outside somewhere with Martin and Olga. I let them have a bit of play between now and chore time.”

All three walked into the house. Kasper paused to wash his hands at the basin set outside, but Rolfe hurried into the house.

Gerde looked after him with distaste. “I hope he is going in to see Clara. She and I have become good friends.”

Kasper smiled at her. “That is good news as I have decided to settle here.”

“What?”

“Yes, I used my inheritance from my Grandfather Zeller to buy five acres from Mr. Rolfe. The deed is filed at Arles. We will be to the north by two lots. I"m going to build a general store and livery stable for people traveling through here. A man in Arles has already bought two acres from me. If I sell the next lot, we will come out even on the land. The man bought the two acres that are next to Rolfe"s home. He told me that he was moving his horseshoeing and ironworks business here as Arles already has two smiths.

“We stopped at the lumberyard and they are shipping the lumber and work crew here through Blue Diamond. They"ll start building as soon as they arrive. I"ve drawn a rough sketch of our new store and home.”

“But, Herr Schmidt, there is no school here for Hans.”

Kasper smiled. “I intend to start one for extra income. I"ll be teaching Olga and Martin for now, and Hans when he is old enough. Herman tells me that the older Tillman brother has a boy that is of school age and Ben Tillman, the younger brother, and his wife have two girls. Both are younger than Martin.”

Gerde was unable to say anything for a moment. She took several quick breaths while her mind tried to find a way to leave here.

“There is no Lutheran pastor or church.” Surely, that would convince Kasper.

“That is true, Gerde, but now we will be two families. We can apply to the Synod for a circuit rider to come through here. Some of the Lutheran churches in Texas are affiliated with the Lutheran Synod of Missouri.” Satisfied that he had met all her objections, hunger reasserted its demands.

“Is there something to eat now, or shall I just wait for supper?”

Gerde almost ground her teeth. How could the man be so considerate on one matter and so dense and inconsiderate on another? Still, she was the good Frau and she responded.

“Ach, ja, mein Herr, you must be starving. You can"t have eaten decently during your travels. Come in, come in. I have some stew and biscuits left for you and Mr. Rolfe to share.”

Herman appeared in the doorway from the bedroom and saw that Gerde was setting out the bowls. “We could wait until supper. There"s work to do. The ropes, extra saddle, and branding irons all need to be ready plus we need to clean out the saddlebags. If Mac can"t make it, I"ll be hiring a man to help with a cattle drive up to Chisholm in Indian Territory.”

Gerde looked with horror at Kasper and her voice lowered to a whisper. “Are you going with him?”

Kasper raised his eyebrows. “No, Frau Schmidt, I must remain here to see about our store, stable, and home. Mr. Rolfe needs someone far more accustomed to cattle than I am.”

He smiled at them. “However, if I can be of any assistance now, I gladly offer my services.”