Read Online Paxton and the Lone Star by Kerry Newcomb - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kerry Newcomb
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the table, and for one so gruff his voice was strangely gentle. âIâm twenty-seven, Father, and if Hogjaw has seen the look of far places in your eyes, Iâve seen the look of disappointment at having a son whoâs done naught but shamble through life.â No sign of emotion escaped his face, but his eyes narrowed as if he were looking at something far, far away and indistinct. âYouâre always telling me I should make something of myself. Well, this is what Iâve been waiting for. This is my chance. I can feel it in my bones and itâs a blessing for all of us. Neither you nor Jason will have to be embarrassed by me any longer.â
True bridled at the way Joseph adressed his father. The tension between the two had increased the older Joseph had become and the more responsibility his twin, Jason Brand Paxton, had assumed in the family businesses. Still, not all the blame could be laid at Josephâs doorstep. The fault was Thomasâs too, for he refused to acknowledge that the wild streak that had pushed him to sea as a young man ran strongly in Joseph. And the fact that Jason, unlike his namesake, was suited more to desks and order forms and weights and bank balances shouldnât be held against Joseph.
âWhat about you, True?â Thomas said, refusing to rise to Josephâs anger and turning to his first-born by Adriana, and the one she would miss the most.
âTexas,â True said, savoring the word. He looked up at Hogjaw, and back to his father. An irrepressible grin lit his face. The air seemed charged with electricity, as during a storm. âTexas,â he repeated, not wanting to hurt Thomasâs feelings, and yet already feeling Firetail beneath him and the long road unfolding ahead of him. âIt has a ring to it, father. With your blessing, Iâll follow Hogjaw.â
His sons watched him. Josephâs face was an indistinct blur in the shadow cast by Hogjaw. Impatient in his youth, Andrew leaned forward expectantly. Motionless, his head silhouetted by the red glow from the fire pit behind him, True waited.
And Thomas Gunn Paxton said a single word.
âGo.â
Chapter IV
On Monday morning, the eighth of September, 1834, two weeks and a day after True had arrived home, he prepared to ride away forever. The sun rose in the normal manner, the birds sang as always. The mares suckled their foals in the front paddocks, and the smell of fresh coffee permeated the great house that was Solitary. True had been up and dressed since the first stars began to fade. In the early morning stillness, he had walked the paths heâd explored in childhood, looked in for the last time on Temper, and then busied himself helping to load Fritz, the huge, dappled gray jack mule that would carry their gear. When all was ready, and as a final, sentimental gesture, he climbed the catalpa tree in the side yard and perched on the limb where heâd spent so many hours as a boy.
They all gathered for breakfast in the large dining room where Lavinia had stacked the table with enough food to keep a small army alive for a month. The atmosphere was confusing at best. Bright chatter one moment was followed by strained silences which no one knew how to break gracefully, and throughout, Hogjaw and his charges stuffed themselves in order not to hurt Laviniaâs feelings. When the clock struck eight, they all pushed back their plates and left to go about their final chores, as if they had heard a mysterious signal that had to be obeyed.
In truth, everything had been ready for some hours. The packs had been loaded with spare clothes and extra boots, powder and shot, food, pots and pans, a half dozen bottles of whiskey for trading along the way, and a minimum of personal effects, all easily accessible in order of their importance. True, Joseph, and Andrew had each selected a Kentucky rifle and flintlock pistol from Solitaryâs stock of arms. These they would carry on
True bridled at the way Joseph adressed his father. The tension between the two had increased the older Joseph had become and the more responsibility his twin, Jason Brand Paxton, had assumed in the family businesses. Still, not all the blame could be laid at Josephâs doorstep. The fault was Thomasâs too, for he refused to acknowledge that the wild streak that had pushed him to sea as a young man ran strongly in Joseph. And the fact that Jason, unlike his namesake, was suited more to desks and order forms and weights and bank balances shouldnât be held against Joseph.
âWhat about you, True?â Thomas said, refusing to rise to Josephâs anger and turning to his first-born by Adriana, and the one she would miss the most.
âTexas,â True said, savoring the word. He looked up at Hogjaw, and back to his father. An irrepressible grin lit his face. The air seemed charged with electricity, as during a storm. âTexas,â he repeated, not wanting to hurt Thomasâs feelings, and yet already feeling Firetail beneath him and the long road unfolding ahead of him. âIt has a ring to it, father. With your blessing, Iâll follow Hogjaw.â
His sons watched him. Josephâs face was an indistinct blur in the shadow cast by Hogjaw. Impatient in his youth, Andrew leaned forward expectantly. Motionless, his head silhouetted by the red glow from the fire pit behind him, True waited.
And Thomas Gunn Paxton said a single word.
âGo.â
Chapter IV
On Monday morning, the eighth of September, 1834, two weeks and a day after True had arrived home, he prepared to ride away forever. The sun rose in the normal manner, the birds sang as always. The mares suckled their foals in the front paddocks, and the smell of fresh coffee permeated the great house that was Solitary. True had been up and dressed since the first stars began to fade. In the early morning stillness, he had walked the paths heâd explored in childhood, looked in for the last time on Temper, and then busied himself helping to load Fritz, the huge, dappled gray jack mule that would carry their gear. When all was ready, and as a final, sentimental gesture, he climbed the catalpa tree in the side yard and perched on the limb where heâd spent so many hours as a boy.
They all gathered for breakfast in the large dining room where Lavinia had stacked the table with enough food to keep a small army alive for a month. The atmosphere was confusing at best. Bright chatter one moment was followed by strained silences which no one knew how to break gracefully, and throughout, Hogjaw and his charges stuffed themselves in order not to hurt Laviniaâs feelings. When the clock struck eight, they all pushed back their plates and left to go about their final chores, as if they had heard a mysterious signal that had to be obeyed.
In truth, everything had been ready for some hours. The packs had been loaded with spare clothes and extra boots, powder and shot, food, pots and pans, a half dozen bottles of whiskey for trading along the way, and a minimum of personal effects, all easily accessible in order of their importance. True, Joseph, and Andrew had each selected a Kentucky rifle and flintlock pistol from Solitaryâs stock of arms. These they would carry on
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