The Alamo Bride Page 15

Vaughn seemed to consider the request, and then he nodded. “Come on, then.”

  They walked together toward the river where the pirogue was leaning against an outbuilding that appeared to be a smokehouse. “Miss Valmont says you didn’t see who took it.”

  “She’d be correct,” he said, displaying enough of an accent to identify the man as possibly being Acadian from south Louisiana. “But it isn’t the first one I’ve lost. Didn’t think I’d get this one back.”

  Clay turned to look over at the man. “Don’t you find it odd that you keep getting boats stolen?”

  He removed his hat to run his hand through thick black curls, then replaced his hat on his head. “I find it more odd that I actually got one back.” He paused. “Mr. Gentry, we are a country at war. There was a battle fought just down the river at Velasco not four years ago, and we will have battles come to this river again. You watch. So during times of war, things happen. Boats disappear.”

  Clay nodded. “That’s a fair assessment. Do you figure the thief was friend or foe?”

  “I figure it doesn’t matter. Result was the same. Until war came here, we all lived together in relative peace. Whether you were of Mexican descent—we prefer the term Tejano—or had come here from other places and call yourself a Texian, we were all one people, you know? Then came talk of freedom from Mexico and suddenly no one knew which side your friends and neighbors were on.”

  Clay couldn’t disagree, so he decided to turn the conversation in a different direction. “Have you seen any strangers around here lately?”

  Vaughn chuckled. “I’m looking at one right now.”

  “Fair enough,” Clay said. “But I’m thinking in specific about one, maybe two men who I caught shadowing Miss Valmont over on their property. He aimed a rifle at me but it misfired.” He paused. “Mine didn’t misfire.”

  “You think you hit him?”

  “I know I did.” He shrugged. “I didn’t go after him because I was with Miss Valmont at the time. I felt it more important to see her safely home rather than hunt down the intruder and take the chance that he was not alone.”

  “I would have done the same.” He shook his head. “Sad news about Boyd and Thomas. I promised him I would look in over at his place while he was away, but I’ve been remiss in my duties. I will do better.”

  “What sad news?” Clay asked.

  He shook his head. “Didn’t they tell you? Father and son went off together to defend the cannons at Gonzales back in September. Any man not returned or accounted for is considered now to be lost.”

  “Lost?” He shook his head. “Are you saying Ellis’s father and brother are dead?”

  “I am saying that’s common knowledge here.”

  He shifted his stance. “So everyone around here knows that this family has no men in residence?”

  “I suppose. Why?”

  Because now that he knew this, Clay also knew he could never leave Ellis and her family there alone and unprotected. “No reason,” he said instead.

  Later that evening as he and Jean Paul held their nightly chat on the porch after Ellis had gone up to bed, he broached the topic of Boyd Valmont. “I’d been thinking of checking into the fellow next door’s story about his missing pirogue, the one I drifted up on.”

  “Is that right?” Jean Paul asked.

  “It is,” he said. “So I spoke with him today. He didn’t have much to add. Just that it had come up missing and then Ellis and her mama had returned it.”

  “That they did,” he said.

  “Kind of dangerous, what with who knows who is out there, don’t you think?” he said.

  Jean Paul swiveled to face him. “What do you mean? Has there been another threat to my family?”

  “Nothing specific, but you said yourself that war is coming.” He paused. “It might already be here.”

  “It might,” he said. “Though I am not convinced that one shot in the woods the other day scared off the entire Mexican army. More likely a couple of renegades or some deserters looking for a place to hide and food for their bellies.”

  “They were shadowing Ellis. I saw them.” He shook his head. “I saw him. Just the one. But I saw evidence of what looked to be more than one.”

  The old man’s frown was evident even by moonlight. “How many more?”

  “Hard to say, but probably just one more.” He sat quietly in hopes that Mr. Valmont might say something else. When he did not, Clay continued. “I’m worried about the women being out here without men. I know you mentioned that Ellis’s mother is away right now with the little ones. Might she have gone with them?”

  “She might have,” he said. “Had there not been a need to take care of you. I certainly couldn’t have done it. And you were in no shape to do it yourself.”

  Guilt slammed him nearly backward. “Ellis is here and in danger because of me.”

  A statement, not a question. Also a situation he could remedy.

  “Didn’t say that.”

  Clay frowned. “Yes. You did.”

  The older man rose and stretched out his back, a sure sign the conversation was done and he intended to head for bed. Then he turned back to Clay, his face now in shadows and his expression unreadable.

  “When Boyd came to me with this wild idea of taking up arms to defend the cause of Texas freedom, I told him he had plumb lost his mind. He had a wife and children here to take care of. He had a home he’d built by hand and a farm that he’d put everything he had into. Know what he said?”

  “What?”

  “He said, ‘Pa, if I don’t go do this, how will I live with the fact I could have given them not just a better house or a better farm, but a better life?’” Mr. Valmont shook his head. “My son went off to give his family a life where they could be here and be free. His eldest went with him for the same reason, and oh, if you knew Thomas, you’d know he was as stubborn as his father.”

  And his sister, Clay thought.

  “So away they went, but not before they offered the chance to talk them out of it. See, all I had to do was tell them I didn’t intend to look after Sophie and the children, and neither of them would have set foot off the property.” He let out a long breath. “It was an impossible choice, but I made it.”

  He left Clay with those words, trudging off at a pace that was far slower than on previous nights.

  “Sir,” Clay called over his shoulder before the man disappeared inside. “You made the right choice.”

  The door hinges squeaked, and he figured he would get no answer. Silence fell. Then he heard the old man clear his throat. Finally the hinges creaked again as the door closed behind him, leaving Clay alone in the dark.

  As was his habit, Clay moved from the porch to the stairs and settled there beneath the stars. Could he have made a choice like that? A decision to give up someone he loved for the greater good?

  Somehow he knew this was a decision he had never faced. It was more than a thought. It was knowledge. He did as Ellis suggested and thought harder. Tried to form in his mind the missing information that would offer more than just an idea of how things were.

  Of what had happened.

  Of whose side he must be on.

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Gradually he became aware that he was being watched. His hand went to the pistol at his side.

  Then he heard the footsteps and knew the only threat was to his heart. “Ellis?” he said without turning around.

  “How did you know?” she said as she settled beside him on the steps.

  He shrugged. “I’m sure I would have an answer if I could remember one. What are you doing out here?”

  She was still fully dressed as if she hadn’t been upstairs asleep, and she wore a quilt around her shoulders for warmth. “I was waiting for Grandfather Valmont to go to bed. I wanted to speak with you alone.”

  He gave her a sideways look and tried not to notice how beautiful she looked by moonlight. “How did you know I would be out here?” />
  Ellis ignored the question to look past him out toward the river. He followed her gaze but said nothing more.

  Of course. She was as watchful of what happened here as he was.

  A companionable silence fell between them. Finally Clay spoke. “I haven’t remembered, but I know which side I am on.”

  She seemed to understand his cryptic comment, for she merely nodded. After a moment, she added, “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “I am on your side,” he told her. “I owe you the debt of my life. I will not betray that. So tell me what I have to do and I will do it.”

  Ellis did not know what to say, so she said nothing for what seemed like a very long time. There was only one thing she could ever ask of anyone who presented her with such an offer.

  She looked over at Clay and thought of how very different things were now. He had quite literally floated into her life needing to be saved from certain death. Now he was returned to health—at least as far as he would allow her to know, for he had continued to forbid her to treat his wounds—and apparently had settled in his mind what would come next.

  “Your grandfather means to take you to New Orleans next week.”

  Her breath caught. “No. I will not go.”

  “I know.”

  “How could you know?” she said.

  “Because you are making your impossible choice.”

  She felt Clay shift positions beside her, but she dared not look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Your safety or something greater. I think I made mine when I joined the Greys and came here to Texas.”

  “Yes,” she said on a whisper of breath. “My impossible choice. But it only looks that way, you know.”

  “No,” he said softly. “I don’t.”

  She toyed with the edge of the quilt. “The right choice is always the one that brings you home.”

  “So you’re staying here,” he said. “Your grandfather will see that doesn’t happen. He’s adamant that you go to safety.”

  “Of course he is,” she said. “But he cannot make my choice for me. Not permanently.”

  “Are you saying if he forces you to go, you’ll find a way to come back here?” Her silence must have been answer enough for Clay, for he added, “Why?”

  “Texas is my home,” she said with a shrug. “And my father and brother will come home again. I won’t be alone once they’ve returned. And when she can, Mama will come back with the little ones.”

  “Ellis, are you out there?”

  Grandfather Valmont. She turned in his direction. “I am. Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he said with unmistakable happiness in his voice. “Something is very right. Come inside. I have something to show you.”

  Ellis climbed to her feet, tucking the quilt around her as she followed her grandfather inside. He was at the dining table lighting the lamp. In front of him a folded piece of paper waited on the tabletop.

  “When I was in Velasco this morning to check on the shipyard, my assistant gave me a pouch of documents to review. I thought perhaps they were contracts, so I saved them for this evening.” He looked over at Clay. “I love building boats. I do not love reading page after page of agreements written by lawyers. Give me a man’s handshake any day, even if he is a man who works for the United States government.”

  “Grandfather,” Ellis said gently. “You were going to tell us why you called us in here?”

  “Yes,” he said with a chuckle. “Well, imagine my surprise when I sifted through that pile of contracts to find a letter.” His chuckle turned into a laugh. “From Boyd.”

  “Papa?” Ellis cried. “You got a letter from Papa?”

  “I did,” he said. “But I haven’t opened it yet. I thought to wait until we could read it together. However, my son is ever the practical one. You will notice what he wrote beneath his name?”

  Ellis peered down at the letter. “‘Boyd Valmont,’” she read. “‘And yes, I am alive and well.’” Tears of relief began to fall as she flung herself into Clay’s arms. “Clay, isn’t that the best news?” she said.

  Clay’s eyes drifted shut as he held Ellis against him. He winced but not from the pain of her pressing against his injuries. Rather, in the moment after she grasped his shoulders with laughter in her voice and called his name, he had felt something he couldn’t recall ever feeling before.

  And he had no idea whether he truly had never felt it or whether he just could not recall. He wrapped his arms around her and felt certain that lost memories had nothing to do with the feelings swirling inside him.

  Ellis went on about her father, her tears staining his shirt, but her words fell on deaf ears. Instead he inhaled the delicate scent of whatever herb or flower she used in her hair.

  Felt the warmth of her arms around him.

  And in that moment, though he knew so little about her, or for that matter about himself, he knew that Ellis Valmont felt very right in his arms. Anything she asked at this moment would be granted to her, of this Clay was certain.

  If she asked him to be more than just the man whose life she saved … What would his future look like then? Would his missing past not matter? And what of the mission he had come to Texas to complete?

  He tightened his grip on her and ignored the inconvenient questions. In this moment, there was nothing else outside the four walls of this home.

  Outside the embrace of this woman.

  “Read the letter,” Ellis said, bringing him back to reality.

  Clay released her along with the breath he had not realized he was holding. Ellis Valmont was a dangerous woman. If he wished to control his own destiny, he would stay away from her.

  And that just might be his own impossible decision.

  He turned his attention to her now, her head together with her grandfather’s as they read the letter. Slowly her grandfather placed his arm around her. Then she leaned against his shoulder.

  “What is it?” Clay asked, for obviously the letter from Boyd Valmont had not continued with all good news.

  “My brother,” she said softly as she handed the letter to Clay. “Papa says he has been taken prisoner.”

  Clay’s eyes scanned the letter, landing on the sentence that read: Fallen into a company of prisoners of Santa Anna’s army marching toward the Alamo where he will likely be held.

  He offered the letter back to Ellis, his mind made up. “I will need my Greys uniform,” he told her.

  She pressed the letter against her heart. “Why?”

  “Tomorrow I ride for San Antonio de Béxar. I cannot save your brother in his borrowed clothes.” He paused. “That is, if I might trouble you to loan me a horse, Mr. Valmont. I assure you I am good for the payment.”

  “Clay,” she said with a gasp. “You cannot go alone. The Mexican army is too much for one man. I will go with you.”

  He laughed then, at himself, at her, at the situation. “I will not be alone. My guess is here in Texas the Mexican army has a common enemy. Although I am sure when they hear I’ve got you with me …”

  “Stop teasing me. I know what my brother looks like and you do not.”

  Jean Paul nodded. “I will go with you. I can certainly point out my grandson in a crowd, even at my age.”

  “And leave her here?” Clay said. “You know she will follow.”

  The older man looked over at his granddaughter and then back at Clay. “Yes, you are right. But let me send some of my men with you. It is a simple matter of going down to Velasco and bringing them back here, and it will delay you a few days at most. I will also see that there are people assigned to keeping Ellis out of trouble. She does tend to find a way to—”

  “You’re doing it again,” she snapped. “I am right here in this room, and neither of you are bothering to recognize the fact that I am a grown woman who not only can make her own choices but also just might have something worthwhile to contribute to the conversation.”

  “Ellis,” her grandfather said sharply.


  “No, Grandfather Valmont,” she responded quickly. “I will be heard. And please understand I mean no disrespect to you. But Thomas must be found. Papa cannot leave his men to go and search, so that responsibility falls to us.”

  “It falls to the men in our family,” Jean Paul said.

  “I would be honored to take that responsibility from you,” Clay said to Jean Paul. “Ellis can be emotional, but this time she is right. Someone must go and find Thomas. With your permission, that will be me.”

  “In a few days, yes. But not tomorrow or the next. You cannot go unprepared. Do I have your word?”

  “You do, but reluctantly.”

  “That will suffice, and understand I would go if I did not have a reason to stay.” Jean Paul studied him for a moment and then nodded. “There is not a man alive who would be able to keep my granddaughter where she does not wish to be. Perhaps if she knows you are doing this, then she will wait patiently here with enough guards to keep her safe.”

  “But Grandfather Valmont, truly I would be no trouble if I went along just to help and—”

  “Ellis Valmont, do not mistake me.” He shook his finger at her. “I am only allowing you to remain here because I know if I deliver you to New Orleans as your mother has requested, you will only leave again and be back in Velasco on the next steamer going west.”

  “I cannot deny this,” she said softly.

  “And in doing so, do you not realize how much worry you will cause an old man?” He shook his head. “Truly you do not understand how much trouble a willful woman can be.”

  At Clay’s laugh, both Valmonts swung their gazes in his direction. “No,” he said, quickly sobering. “I am certain she does not, or she wouldn’t do it, would you, Ellis?”

  Put on the spot, she had to agree with him. With the victory, Clay said his good nights and hurried back to his bedchamber. He awakened the next morning to find the coffee on and Ellis seated at the dining table with a basket of mending.

  Ignoring his cheerful good-morning greeting, she continued to work on something that looked suspiciously like his uniform. Seating himself at the far end of the table, he slathered butter on bread and dined in silence.