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  PROLOGUE

  HOUSTON DAILY TELEGRAPH

  March 3, 1875

  We are able, thanks to a gentleman who was present, to define the deliberations that took place under the spreading branches of a live oak a little more definitely. Some unknown parties (many citizens probably) seized upon the five men who were suspected of being horse thieves, and succeeded in elevating three of the five, when the sheriff put in an appearance … So instead of five men being hung, only two were hung, and one was shot. For the sake of the reputation of Mason as a law-abiding community, we hope this correction will be made.

  MASON COUNTY, TEXAS AUGUST 1874

  Found not guilty of any wrongdoing. Praise the Lord.” Derrick Denning lifted his cup of coffee in a mock salute to his wife, Leta. “As the Good Book says, ‘Thou hast maintained my right and my cause.’ Though I feel bad about the fines the other fellows have to pay.”

  The Denning family sat around the table enjoying a celebratory dinner in their cabin on the D-Bar-D Ranch. Young Ricky clapped his hands on the table, although he didn’t know what they were celebrating. Leta looked into her husband’s eyes over their son’s head and smiled. The baby inside her stirred, as if contentedly joining in on the joy.

  “I’ll read up on that new law about transporting cattle over county lines before I go on any more cattle drives. Right and legal aren’t always the same thing, and we want to be sure we stick on the side of the law.”

  “It’s not right, the other men are getting fined.” Leta’s brother Andy stopped shoveling beans into his mouth long enough to grumble. “They didn’t do nothing wrong. The cattle belonged to Mr. Roberts and Mr. Thomas.”

  When her husband was arrested for helping M. B. Thomas and Allen Roberts take their cattle to Llano County from Mason County, the ordeal filled her with anguish. The German cattlemen had accused both Thomas and Roberts of stealing cattle. In the court case, six of the cowhands were charged guilty and fined $25 a head. Yet the court dismissed Derrick’s case due to insufficient evidence.

  The German cattlemen had grumbled at the verdict. Mason County was full of cattle ranchers who were angry that justice for cattle stealing—real and supposed—was not being fulfilled through the law. German settlers and people native to Mason County alike were troubled.

  Leta suppressed the niggling worry that threatened to destroy this night of celebration. God answered her prayers. Derrick was home. She and her family—Derrick, their son, and her brother Andy—could stay put in Mason County Texas. They wouldn’t have to move every year or two the way Pa had dragged them all over the map when she was a child.

  Derrick set both his elbows on the table and crossed his arms, signaling he had an important announcement to make. He winked at Leta. “Since we’re celebrating good news, it’s time we told you the news. Ricky, what do you think about being a big brother sometime this winter?”

  Ricky stopped pushing beans around his plate. “I’m going to have a baby brother?”

  “Or a sister.” Leta touched the palm of her hand against her womb. “We won’t know until the baby comes.”

  “I don’t want to wait until later.” Ricky clapped his hands together. “I want it now.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”

  “Can I at least have him for a Christmas present?”

  Andy snickered.

  Leta hid a smile behind her napkin. “The baby might come around your birthday. How would you like that?”

  Ricky shrugged his shoulders. “I guess it’s all right. Say, Davey’s dog had puppies. Can I have one?” Leta admired how much his smile looked like his father’s. “Since I have to wait so long to have my brother?”

  “Your father and I will talk about it.”

  “Maybe I can have a horse of my own, since I have to wait for my niece or nephew.” Andy lifted his eyebrows and put on his most innocent expression.

  “That topic is already under discussion.” Derrick grinned at his brother-in-law. “Today I’d like to give all of you the world, but I’d better wait and see what happens next.”

  Good, sensible, steady Derrick. The best husband in the world for Leta. God is so good.

  When they retired to bed later, thunder rumbled. Leta snuggled close to Derrick. The raging storms that swept across the land from time to time frightened her, and she preferred the safety of her husband’s arms.

  Instead of subsiding, the rumble continued—constant, moving closer and closer. More like a … stampede. Derrick swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his gun and headed for the main room. Leta threw on her dressing gown and followed.

  Ricky sat up on his elbows in his bed in the main room, rubbing his eyes and looking scared.

  Derrick ran his hand over Ricky’s soft curls. “Nothing to worry about, son; you lay back down.”

  The boy ducked his head under the sheets as instructed, but Leta didn’t for a minute think he had gone to sleep.

  The rumble grew louder, the distinct sound of hooves pounding the hard earth at full speed.

  Andy climbed down from the loft, rifle in his hand. “Is something after the cattle?”

  That was a definite possibility. The Texas Rangers tried to keep Indians and Comancheros away from American holdings. Sometimes they were successful, sometimes they weren’t.

  Leta didn’t like her brother heading out to fight off rustlers. She didn’t like her husband going into danger, for that matter—but she knew they must. Derrick handed her a loaded rifle. She grasped it with both hands and started praying. Horses neared, almost too loud to speak. She dropped to a kneeling position beneath the window.

  As Derrick reached for the front door, the hooves stopped moving, snorting and neighing punctuating the abrupt silence. Leta lifted her head a few inches to see out the windowpane. Dark, shadowy figures on horseback formed a semicircle around the front door. Of the cattle in the pen, she saw and heard no sign.

  “Derrick Denning. Come out and face justice.”

  Leta tensed and waited for Derrick’s response. He half turned the doorknob, then dropped his hand.

  The speaker held up both hands. “Derrick Denning. I will not ask again. You have two choices. Either you hang …” He held up a rope tied into a noose. “Or we burn down your home.” A light flared in the hand of one of the other riders, and the object in the leader’s right hand burst into flame—a torch. “It’s your choice.”

  Leta gasped and the rifle trembled in her hand. Shoot the man. The thought flew in and out of her mind. They were too many, she couldn’t drive them all away before someone threw the firebrand onto the dry wood of their house. She wanted to grab Ricky and run for the door. But the only exit lay through the front door—in the direction of the men threatening to burn them down.

  She chanced a glance to the side. Andy stood with his rifle on his shoulder, ready to shoot. Derrick motioned for him to put the gun down.

  A pale face appeared over the edge of his blanket. No! Ricky must not see this! Leta motioned for her son to sneak back under the covers.

  A deep sigh drew Leta’s attention to her husband. Putting down the gun, he tied a white dishtowel around his arm. He turned to Leta. “Take care of Ricky.” Before she could protest, he opened the door and slammed it shut behind him.

  The first quarter moon provided little light, and clouds drifted across it like wisps of smoke. Light from the torch flickered, revealing Derrick’s face in sharp contrast.

  “Gentlemen, whatever is troubling you, surely we can settle this like reasonable men. I come out here in peace.” Derrick pointed to the white band on his arm. “Unarmed.”

  Rough custom said no one would shoot an unarmed man any more than they would shoot a man in the back.

  The men on horseback were shadows hovering just beyond the circle of light. Leta couldn’t see the faces of the men threatening her husband. “Derrick Denning, the district court of Mason County found insufficient evidence against you to convict you of the theft of cattle.�
�� Listen to the voice. Leta strained her ears. It had to be someone they knew, someone from their small community. “However, the people of Mason County witnessed your crime firsthand, and we find it necessary to pronounce a true judgment.”

  Derrick took a step back, then straightened his shoulders and moved forward. “Get off your horse and face me like a man.”

  The leader handed the torch to the man on his right and the noose to the man on his right and jumped from the horse. He stood in the shadows.

  “We the people of Mason County have examined the testimony against you. We have determined that you were indeed with A.G. Roberts on the date in question. That you did aid in the illegal transportation of cattle over the Mason County line without proper inspection. That you knew that the cattle in question in fact belonged to a local rancher.”

  “How can you say what happened? The only people there were the folks on trial today.”

  “You admit to the facts then?”

  Leta heard the smiling threat in his voice, although she couldn’t see it. The end of the noose dangled where she could see it in the flare of the torch.

  “Having examined the evidence, we have determined that you are, both legally and morally, guilty of the crime of cattle rustling. And that your punishment will be death by hanging.”

  The man with the noose nudged his horse forward.

  A long, long five minutes later, Leta slumped to the floor. Only then did she become aware of Ricky crouching beside her, staring in horror out the window.

  NEAR VICTORIA, TEXAS SEPTEMBER 1874

  Buck Morgan reined in Blaze when he approached the familiar sign suspended over the entrance to the family ranch: “Running M Ranch, est. 1834.” As far as he roamed, across Texas and farther west, into New Mexico and Arizona territories, he always pictured this place as home. His father had worked hard to build the Running M Ranch into the best horse ranch in all of Texas. Buck loved the quality Morgan horses the family raised, but he loved the freedom of the open range. When he reached his eighteenth birthday, he kicked the dust of the ranch off his heels, coming home for only short stretches of time since.

  But Ma and Pa would want to hear his current news firsthand. He owed them that much.

  He spurred Blaze, and the gelding trotted forward, easing into a gallop, as if he sensed he was headed home too. His gait ate up the distance to the big house, while Buck took note of changes to the ranch. In the distance, he spotted a group of riders bringing the horses in from the pasture for the night. He turned Blaze in that direction and the horse increased his speed, giving in to the desire to reach the head of the pack.

  A lanky-bodied youth on the back of a roan-colored mare turned in Buck’s direction. “Pa! Bert! Buck has come home.” Buck’s youngest brother, Jack, edged his mare out of the band and raced across the open space.

  Buck reined Blaze in to a moderate pace and met his brother. “What did you do with my brother? He wasn’t any taller than a cow’s tail the last time I saw him.”

  Jack grinned. “It’s good to see you too, Buck. Come on, let’s head to the house. Ma will be so happy you’re home. She’ll be sending messages all across town.”

  Oma and Opa. Granny. Aunt Marion and Uncle Peter. Tante Alvie and her husband. His married sisters. Buck could be glad his other aunts and uncles and cousins lived scattered across Texas, or else they would’ve rented out all the guest rooms in Victoria.

  Ma was working in the garden beside the house, probably getting it ready for the winter crop, when they approached. Her back was to him. Buck put a finger to his lips and slid off the horse as quiet as a cat.

  “You’re home early.” The faintest trace of an accent pointed to Ma’s German roots. She pulled up another weed before turning around. She dropped the weeds and the spade, her hand covering her mouth.

  “Hi, Ma.” Buck hugged her, surprised at how small and light the woman who had always been a tower of strength felt now that he was a grown man.

  “Why didn’t you write to say you were coming? How long are you staying?” Her eyes searched his, and he knew she was wishing he would stay put long enough to celebrate.

  “I can stay about a week.” A part of him wished he could deliver his news and ride out again in the morning, but Ma would never forgive him. He sniffed the air. “Is that rabbit stew I smell cooking? I haven’t had a good bowl since the last time I was home.”

  “And a good Gewurzgurke to go with it.” Ma’s laughter was as light as the clouds floating overhead.

  Pa, his middle brother Drew, and the ranch hands arrived, and Buck found himself the center of attention.

  He didn’t get any time alone with his parents until the following morning.

  “Your ma tells me you’re not here to stay.” Pa’s lips thinned. Buck’s father wanted his eldest to follow in the family tradition of managing the Running M. Buck knew his reluctance still baffled his father.

  “No, sir. I’m doing something I think you’ll agree is important. You could say it’s in my blood, since my grandpa died fighting for Texas.”

  “You’re joining the army.” Fear enlarged Ma’s eyes.

  “No, Ma, not since the War Between the States ended.” Buck was disappointed when the war ended months before his eighteenth birthday. He had a thirst for freedom and adventure that life on the ranch couldn’t satisfy. “I don’t know if you heard tell that they’ve started up the Texas Rangers again.”

  Pa slowly nodded his head. “To protect the frontier and to keep law and order, the papers say.”

  “They need people used to Indian ways, who can ride horses as good as any Indian. All my years here on the ranch taught me that. And I even speak some Comanche.” Years ago, his aunt Billie was held captive by Indians and learned the language. Buck begged Aunt Billie to speak the language to him every time he saw her, finding the strange sounds a challenge. He spoke well enough to get by.

  “You’re going to be a Texas Ranger.” Ma looked nearly as scared as she had at the thought of him joining the army.

  “Which company are you joining? One of the frontier battalions or the special force?”

  Buck shrugged. “Major Jones isn’t sure where to put me. My experience with the Comanche would come in real handy with the frontier companies. Then again, he can see someone who speaks Spanish and German being valuable in the Special Force.”

  “German.” Ma’s voice dropped. “Will they send you to Mason County? Your uncle Georg has written of their troubles.”

  “I don’t know.” Buck wished Ma wouldn’t worry so. “They might.”

  A MORGAN FAMILY SERIES

  paperback 978-0-8024-0583-8

  ebook 978-0-8024-7873-3

  LONE STAR TRAIL

  After Wande Fleischer’s fiancé marries someone else, the young fraulein determines to make a new life for herself in Texas. With the help of Jud’s sister Marion, Wande learns English and becomes a trusted friend to the entire Morgan family.

  As much as Jud dislikes the German invasion, he can’t help admiring Wande. She is sweet and cheerful as she serves the Lord and all those around her. Can the rancher put aside his prejudice to forge a new future? Through Jud and Wande, we learn the powerful lessons of forgiveness and reconciliation among a diverse community of believers.

  paperback 978-0-8024-0584-5

  ebook 978-0-8024-7852-8

  CAPTIVE TRAIL

  Taabe Waipu has run away from her Comanche village and is fleeing south in Texas on a horse she stole from a dowry left outside her family’s teepee. The horse has an accident and she is left on foot, injured and exhausted. She staggers onto a road near Fort Chadbourne and collapses.

  On one of the first runs through Texas, Butterfield Overland Mail Company driver Ned Bright carries two Ursuline nuns returning to their mission station. They come across a woman who is nearly dead from exposure and dehydration and take her to the mission. With some detective work, Ned discovers Taabe Waipu’s identity.

  www.RiverNorthFiction.com


  www.MoodyPublishers.com