Beneath a Dakota Cross Read Free Page A

beside the wagon. “You’re right, li’l darlin’. Did you ever know your daddy to break a promise?”
    â€œUh, no . . . not really.”
    â€œNeither have I. Him and me is from the old school. If we tell you we’re goin’ north to find you a home, jist as sure as the sun sets in El Paso, you’re goin’ to have a new home.”
    â€œDaddy’s looking for a ranch under a big cross.”
    â€œWell, how do we know it’s not in the Black Hills?” Big River insisted. “Grass and Hook will join us in Fort Worth, Brazos. They said we can pick up some minin’ gear in Denver or Cheyenne City.”
    â€œI didn’t say I was goin’ prospectin’.”
    â€œI know,” Big River pushed his pant leg down, then picked his teeth with his fingernail. “But, jist in case we decide to get rich, we’ll be ready.”
    The home of Dr. and Mrs. Milton Ferrar was the largest one on the confluence of Rio Bosque, three miles northwest of Waco. The upstairs, alone, contained eight bedrooms. Most times, all the rooms were filled.
    Besides raising nine children of their own, numerous relatives, guests, and occasional strangers stayed the night at the Ferrar place. Brazos figured his sister-in-law, Barbara, just might be the hardest-working woman in Texas.
    He knew, for sure, she was the most organized and gracious.
    Barbara did not follow the rules of Texas society. She made the rules. In the Ferrar household, children ate first, not last, leaving the adults a more leisurely meal. And Barbara insisted that the men could not excuse themselves to the parlor after supper, but must remain in the dining room and visit with the ladies as well as each other.
    She preferred that the men wore suits and ties at the evening meal. However, her sister’s husband, Brazos Fortune, looked so ill at ease in a suit, she allowed him to have supper wearing a vest instead of a jacket.
    And a tie.
    Big River Frank left for Fort Worth after a quick cup of coffee, and Dr. Ferrar was still in town. The kids laughed and shouted in the yard. That left Brazos alone in the dining room with his sister-in-law. Four kerosene lanterns flickered above the table as Brazos studied the china and silver.
    Barbara Ferrar buzzed out the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room. She carried linen napkins and silver napkin holders.
    â€œYou’re makin’ a lot of fuss tonight for the likes of me,” Brazos complained.
    His sister-in-law was the only person, other than his wife, who ever called him by his Christian name. “Henry Fortune, you listen to me.” Her long skirt rustled, and he smelled sweet rose perfume as she sashayed around the long room. “You are leaving the sweetest daughter on the face of the earth to go off, Lord knows where, and have no idea when you will return—if you do at all. You will probably eat undercooked food out of poorly washed tin plates, if you eat off a plate at all. We are certainly going to use the best china!”
    Though she was ten years his junior, he felt properly scolded. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “But I am comin’ back for Dacee June. Soon as I get us a place up north. It will probably be in September, but I didn’t tell her that. Don’t want to make a promise I might not be able to keep.”
    â€œI can’t understand why anyone would want to leave Texas. Milton says you should take them to court to get the ranch back. They have no legal right to do what they’ve done.”
    â€œNo local judge is going to help me, and it would take years to get it to an appeals court. By then Dacee June would be a grown woman, and the boys with families of their own. I think this is best.”
    She stopped her fussing and stood next to him. “You could just shoot them all.”
    He looked into her perfectly round green eyes. “Now, do you think Sarah Ruth would want me to