Give Me A Texan

Mina began to cry as she transcribed the dots and dashes.

Buried in Charleston, S.C. Stop. Nothing but her name, dates of birth and death listed on tombstone. Stop. Born, May 23, 1876. Died, May 24, 1892. Stop.

Her mother had been barely sixteen years old, and she’d died two months after Mina’s birth. She must have been sick, sick and scared. She must have done the only thing she could do, leave her infant with its father. An act of love far greater than Mina ever dreamed possible. An act only someone who truly loved her child would be brave enough to do.

Forgive me, Mother. Mina willed her thoughts to heaven, knowing her mother now abided with Violet’s. ’Tis I who should ask yer forgiveness.

She would have to thank Briar for what he’d done. For setting her past to rights. For caring enough to know she could never truly be happy anywhere until she knew.

Sam interrupted her. “Briar sent me in to give you a break. Said you’d been at the wire long enough.”

Briar. The celebration. Nathaniel. Mina’s mind had to focus on the tasks at hand. What a time for Nathaniel to bring home a bride. The couple would arrive on the train that followed Chaplin’s and everyone in town would be so exhausted from all the day’s events to give their own a rousing welcome home.

Mina decided she would use some of the flour she’d found and bake them a pie. As she passed the decorated tables and streamers that hung from the ceiling welcoming Chaplin, she realized baking a pie would be about as useless as trying to convince Briar to take a break. The tables were laden with every baked good imaginable.

The least she could do was take Briar a glass of something cold. That is, if she could find him.

She stepped out of the door and almost had to fight her way through the surging throng of people. The brass buttons of the constables’ uniforms gleamed in the sun, pinpointing the amount of law enforcement called in to control the crowd. How was Briar getting anything done? she wondered, having to bite back a flair of temper that erupted any time she couldn’t move as quickly as she preferred.

“Enough of that, you boys! Violet, drop that pie now or I’ll send you back to Mina and you won’t get to help the other children.”

Mina forced her way through the onlookers so she could take the children off Briar’s hands. Where were the other parents and why weren’t they watching them?

A pie flew through the air narrowly missing Mina’s head. The sound of several thuds warned that others had been thrown as well.

“Uh-oh,” a tiny voice exclaimed and then yelled, “Scram!” and something else too quick for Mina to decipher.

All of a sudden miniature bodies sliced through the crowd, dodging in and out from adult entrapment. Mina recognized the ebony curls headed her way and grabbed just as Violet tried to rush past. “All right, lassie. That will be enough. Stand and take yer comeuppance like the suffragette ye want to be. Time to do a wee bit of suffering for a good cause.”

“But Daddy’s going to whoop me good this time.”

Eyes the color of twilight rounded in a look so pleading, Mina had to hide the amusement that threatened to override her disappointment with the child’s actions. “I’ve not seen him take a hand to ye in all my time here. But ye owe him an apology, and an apology ye’ll give him, else take ye home I will. Ye’ll march straight to yer room and think about the extra work ye’ve put on yer poor da in cleaning up those pies.”

“Oh, all right, but I don’t really want to.”

“Ye really have to. So be done with it.”

Despite her reluctance, Violet turned around and headed back to Briar. Mina followed making sure that she didn’t veer from her obligation.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ll help you clean up the pie.”

“Why did you throw it after I asked you not to?” Exasperation and something else filled his tone. Exhaustion.

“Here, let me help,” Mina offered, grabbing one of the rags he’d been using to wipe the benches set up for the elderly. Egg whites sprinkled the backs of several of them. The platform would have to be washed clean or someone would trip.

“Answer me, Violet. Why did you throw that pie?” Briar was not letting Violet off with just an apology.

“Jimmy called me a liar, so I told him to stop or I’d hit him. You said I couldn’t hit nobody with my fists no more, so I picked up that pie.” Violet shrugged. “I warned him, Daddy, like you always told me. But he called me a liar, liar, has-to-mind-old-man-Briar. You ain’t no old man and I ain’t no liar, so I hit ’im.”

Briar’s eyes closed as he knelt beside his daughter as he, obviously, fought for words of wisdom. “You shouldn’t let someone goad you into not behaving well, Violet. If you react to them, then they’ve won. If you act like it doesn’t matter what they say, then it takes the wind out of their sails. He can’t bother you unless you let him. Understand?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Now look at me.” Father stared at daughter. “Why did he call you a liar?”

Violet dared a glance at Mina. “I can’t tell.”

Briar’s gaze met Mina’s. The moment she’d worried about all night and through the day had finally arrived. He was about to learn where she’d taken Violet. She had to face it sometime, and she wouldn’t forego the repercussions at the child’s expense. “Tell him, sweeting. We’ve done no wrong.”

The more Violet said, the redder Briar’s face became. He stood and glared at Mina. “Give me the rag.”

“I want to help. Ye’re tired. Briar, ’tis sorry I am-”

“It’s best you leave.”

Knowing she’d overstepped some boundary he’d not been willing to remove, she asked, “May I have a final word with the lass?”

“You’ve told her enough.”

It took everything within Mina to look one last time at the two faces that had become so beloved. She was not even being given a chance to say a proper good-bye. Mina turned and walked away, flinching as she heard the tiny plea, “Come back, angel. Come back!”

Briar threw the rags into the wash bucket, splattering the floor he’d just cleaned. Damn, but he was mad at himself for sending her away so abruptly. Damn, but she was wrong for having taken Violet to the cemetery without his permission. No matter that it was Boot Hill and not where Katie was buried. Taking her was his choice, his right, his responsibility.

One that you’ve failed at miserably, he reminded himself justifiably. A glance at his child, sitting on the bench weeping her eyes out, only made him feel worse. She apparently was none the worse for the visit to the graveyard, but Mina’s leaving looked like it would make her ill. Already the other eye was swelling to match the bruised one and she kept acting as if she wanted to lose her lunch.

To hell with Chaplin and anything else that needed to be done. He must find Mina and tell her he’d overreacted. That he was tired, and too stubborn for his own good, and, frankly, so in love with her that he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. When all this fanfare for the mayor was over, the three of them would ride out to Katie’s grave and, together, they’d say a proper good-bye.

“Want to go find Mina with me?”

Violet stopped sobbing. “You mean you don’t want her to go away?”

“I just needed time to think, pumpkin. Sometimes men don’t know their own minds,” and hearts, “as you women do.”

An engine whistle blew, signaling the incoming train. The band started up, playing, “The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You.” As the train pulled into the station, the waiting crowd surged forward, giving a rousing cheer.

Briar grabbed his daughter’s hand and took advantage of the opening he saw in the pathway. “Let’s check the telegraph office. She knew Sam wanted to meet the man, so she’s probably taken the wire back.”

Sam said he hadn’t seen her.

She wouldn’t have left her post unmanned and wouldn’t have disappointed Sam. She’d obviously left the depot and that meant she’d taken his words to mean something more.

Regret and a pain unlike any he’d ever felt before sent Briar’s fist slamming against the station wall. A bloody swath colored the textured surface as he pulled his hand away and sputtered a mouthful of curses. “What the hell have I done?”