Chapter 2
Unity, Texas
The wall around the little town of Unity was a new feature.
Built in the style of old European city walls, it was sturdy and had a platform wide enough for a man to walk on.
But Europe’s ancient walls had been made from stone and had taken years to build.
Robert didn’t have that kind of time. He’d had this wall built in a matter of months, and it was a mixture of wood and stone.
Standing atop this creation, which allowed him to see out over miles of rolling grassland, he lifted a hand to shade his eyes.
Scanning the horizon, he hoped to see a moving dot that would eventually resolve itself into the shape of the cart and his friends returning.
Perhaps there would be another letter from Lucy in the mail they were bound to collect.
Robert looked forward to this strange woman’s letters.
They were always so full of events, and she had such a colorful way of writing that he felt that by reading her words, he was watching the events unfold, as though through a window.
A small smile creased the corners of his mouth as he wondered what had become of Lucy’s latest adventure.
“Sheriff,” a young voice said.
Robert turned and found a boy of fifteen standing beside him.
Tim had an uncanny ability to move silently.
The young man was half shadow when he wanted to be and he used this talent of his to constantly sneak into and out of places.
The fact that he had been able to sneak up on Robert spoke of the sheriff’s distraction.
He was usually more aware of his surroundings, but recently he just couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that all wasn’t well in his world.
“Yes, Timothy,” he said, smiling at the young man. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, nothing,” Timothy said. His pet raccoon, Critter, sat on his shoulder like a strange parrot, watching Robert with dark, mysterious eyes. “It’s not about me.”
Robert frowned. “What’s not about you?”
Timothy sighed. “It’s my sister.” He rolled his eyes. “Thinks I’m her personal messenger. Like she can just order me around and it’s all fine and dandy.” The sarcasm dripped liberally from his words.
Striving for patience, Robert inclined his head toward Timothy.
“Is that so? And what was the message she wanted you to deliver?” There were ways to handle Timothy.
Some got you the answers you were looking for; others led down a rabbit hole into a wild world of his own imagining.
Having made the mistake of going on one of those adventures before, Robert decided to try and avoid such things at all costs.
Shifting his weight, Timothy looked around as though imparting state secrets and said softly, “She wants you to come to the gate. She’s made revisions to it.”
Robert smiled and nodded. He leaned a little closer to Timothy. “I guess I should go then. We all know what happens when we keep Lizzy waiting.”
“Nothing good,” Timothy agreed.
Robert set off for the gate at a brisk walk.
When he reached the ladder leading to the ground, he quickly climbed down it and hurried to the gate.
Lizzy, who was generally easygoing, had become quite short-tempered since falling pregnant.
Since it was still early days in that department, Robert suspected that Unity’s residents would be jumping at her every command for a while longer.
He found Lizzy at the large wooden gates, which were currently standing open as a cart filled with farm produce entered the town. Robert waved amicably to the man driving the cart. He knew the driver on sight. He knew most of them.
Lizzy was standing by the pulley system that opened and closed the heavy gate. She was tightening a screw or something.
“Hello, Lizzy.”
“Ah, Sheriff, there you are,” she said, turning to face him and beaming like the sun. So she was in a good mood right now. Excellent. Experience told him that could change in a minute, though. Apparently pregnant women were … moody. “You’ll never guess what I managed to do.”
“I bet you’re right,” Robert agreed.
“After hours of toiling with this thing, I finally have it right,” Lizzy said. “Now, if there is an attack, we should be able to close the gate in a matter of seconds.”
“Oh, you’ve been working on the emergency closing mechanism,” he realized.
This was something that concerned Robert terribly.
In recent weeks, he’d realized that having great big walls and a sturdy gate was all well and good, right up to the moment that one had to close the gates quickly.
The moment speed was needed, the heavy gate, which took five men to push shut at a speed that could be compared to the changing of the seasons, wasn’t good enough.
Several of El Aguila’s bandits had made it into the town with the last raid, and he couldn’t have that again.
“Can you show me?” Robert asked.
“Sure,” Lizzy said. Smiling, she pulled a lever set in the wall beside the gate. There was a lot of machinery beside the gate now—cogwheels and pulleys and ropes. Nothing happened.
Frowning, Lizzy turned and glared at the complicated mess of things behind her. She grunted and disappeared into the tangle of ropes.
“Ah, found it,” she said. Something went clunk.
Then, with a rumbling, rolling sound, a large, log-shaped chunk of metal began to lower to the ground. As it did, the gate began to move. At first, it was a bit slow, but as it neared the opposite post, it began to speed up a bit. With a bang, the gate came to a halt, now shut.
“That was faster, wasn’t it?” Lizzy asked.
Robert nodded. “Very much so,” he said. “Well done, Lizzy.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m so glad you like it.” Tears began to roll down her face.
Shocked, Robert looked around for help. There was no one close by, and those in the vicinity ignored them.
He was on his own with a pregnant, crying woman.
He’d never been any good with this sort of thing.
It was why he was a sheriff and not a doctor.
His version of a bedside manner was to start asking the suspect questions and arrest them.
Awkwardly, he raised a hand and patted her on the back. “There, there,” he said gingerly.
Lizzy turned a tearstained face to him and smiled hopefully. “You really think it will do?”
“It’s so much better than pushing the gate shut,” Robert assured her. “How do we get it open again? I should imagine there’s a milk cart on its way from Farmer Turner now.” That man’s deliveries were as regular as the sunrise.
“Oh, for that you have to turn this wheel,” Lizzy said, indicating a handle. The wheel itself was as large as the one on a cart, although much wider, and had a rope fastened to it.
“Let me give that a turn,” Robert said. Stepping up, he took the handle and began to rotate the wheel. It slowly wound up the rope, lifting the heavy metal log into the air again.
Lizzy slipped a leather strap over the handle. The log dipped a little and the gate, which had swung slowly open, shuddered on its massive hinges. Then all became still.
“That’s truly wonderful, Lizzy,” Robert said. “You’ve done a magnificent job.”
“Thanks,” she said, her eyes brimming.
Concerned, Robert carefully asked, “Are you all right, Lizzy?”
She sighed and put her hands on her hips. “I guess,” she replied. “I just feel like I have a permanent case of indigestion.”
“Isn’t there something Julie can give you?”
“She has already. It helps a little.”
“Right.”
Silence.
“Well,” Robert said, feeling even more out of his depth. “I’d better get on with things. Look after yourself. It’s quite chilly out here today.”
Lizzy nodded. “Sure.” She was still wiping tears from her face as he walked away. He said a prayer for her and her baby’s health.
Back on the wall, Robert turned his gaze to the horizon again. Shading his eyes, he noted that there still was no sign of the cart returning from San Antonio. Perhaps they were behind a copse of trees or something. They should be back soon.
The peaceful swaying of the grass, the clouds racing overhead … Nothing was out of place. Nothing but the feeling in Robert’s gut. He wouldn’t be happy until that cart with his friends on it came through the gate.
Being the sheriff of a little town like Unity was generally not a taxing job. Everyone who called it home was mostly of one mind. Everyone worked together to make the mine and the town flourish.
When not battling bandits and checking in on farmers, he spent most of his days settling little neighborly disputes.
That was it. There was no crime in the town worth talking about.
Most of the time a perceived crime was a misunderstanding.
He knew that would change as the town grew larger and more people flocked to live there.
For now, however, it was peaceful other than the bandit raids.
Boom!
The sound of gunfire split the air. It was still far off, and yet it sent a chill through Robert’s veins. He searched the grassland again, and this time he found what he was looking for.
Little figures on horseback, swiftly gaining in size as they approached the town, swarmed around the cart. Some of them fell from their horses, but they seemed to be replaced by new bandits each time.
Robert strode to the closest lookout post on the wall and, grabbing the horn that hung from a hook on a leather strap, raised it to his lips.
Filling his lungs with air, he began to blow into the narrow end of the horn.
A rich, deep, burbling sound rang from it, filling the air with a melodic sound.
He blew one long, deep note and then three short, sharp ones.
Somewhere across the creek at the mine, the resonant ringing of a bell filled the air. It was the emergency signal, calling everyone from their work to help defend the town and the mine.