Home of the Brave Page 4
“I’m not sure.” He looked into her eyes. “I own some land in Texas and I want to buy cattle to start a ranch there. I’m Thomas Van Buskirk, by the way.”
“Jane Hamilton.” She shook his hand and then nodded toward the barn. “I guess you need to talk to Mr. Van Winkler.”
“Is he the rancher?”
“Well, that’s a bit complicated. A lot of ranchers lease grazing land here from the Montauk tribe. The leasing office is at East Hampton. This is the headquarters that all the ranchers use. Mr. Van Winkler is the range boss.”
“And what do you do here?”
“Me? I work for Mr. Van Winkler.”
“Are you Montauk?”
She nodded. “Half.”
“So you live here in the village?”
“I came here to live with my maternal grandmother when I was twelve. She died the next year and I stayed.”
“All alone?”
“Come on and I’ll introduce you to Mr. Van Winkler.” She set off toward the barn.
“What’s his Christian name?” Thomas asked, as he walked beside her.
“Paul, or Paulus, I’m not sure which. Why?”
“Although the name’s not ringing any bells, he’s probably a relative. My family lives over by Kill Van Kull and there are several Van Winkle and Van Winkler headstones in the graveyard.”
“Oh, I know that place. It’s beautiful. I’ve always been curious about it.”
“Stop by any time. I don’t live there any more but my aunt and uncle would be very happy to show you around.
As they reached the barn, a tall, thin, dour looking man in overalls stopped feeding the milk cows in their stalls and turned toward them.
“Mr. Van Winkler,” Jane said. “This is Mr. Van Buskirk. He’s interested in buying cattle.”
The man offered his hand to Thomas, but no smile. “Which Van Buskirk are you?”
“Thomas, sir,” he shook Van Winkler’s hand. “I’m John and Marina’s son.” Van Winkler didn’t respond. “John and Anna’s grandson?”
“Ah. Yankee’s boy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I thought you’d gone for a soldier, like the rest of your family.”
“I just resigned my commission to start a ranch, sir.”
Van Winkle walked out into the sunshine. “How many cattle were you wanting to buy?”
“Well, sir, I was hoping to get some advice about that. I have some land in Texas but I have no idea how many head I’ll need.”
“How much land do you have?”
“Four thousand, four-hundred and twenty-eight acres.”
“I guess you know that’s not the same as having that same amount of land here. The grass there doesn’t measure up to here.”
“I’m told that the grazing is good there, sir, but I’ve not seen it myself, yet.”
“Do you really want my advice or were you just being polite?”
“I really want your advice, sir.”
“Then don’t buy cattle here, round them up for free in Texas.”
“Free?”
“Spanish settlers have tried raising cattle in Texas many, many times with a number of different breeds over the last two hundred years. The settlers all died but some of the cattle didn’t. The survivors inter-bred and now there are thousands of hybrids roaming the prairies. They’re called Texas longhorns because they inherited the big horns of the original Spanish cattle.”
“Wild cattle free for the taking?”
“Free to anyone bold enough to try. Texas longhorns are smart and tough. The bulls are the meanest creatures that God ever created. But,” he gestured toward the nearby pasture, “these animals wouldn’t last a year out there in Texas.”
“Have you been there, sir? Texas, I mean,” Thomas asked.
“No. But I’ve seen Texas longhorns. Some Mexican vaqueros drove a herd all the way to St. Louis hoping to get the same price as American beef. I happened to be there buying cattle at the time.”
“What about the price, sir?”
“Longhorns don’t produce much tallow and won’t yield the price of eastern cattle but they can go for days without water, graze on cactus and weeds, fight off predators, swim rivers, and survive the hottest summers or the coldest winters.”
Thomas looked uncertain. “I’ve been told that all the other prospective ranchers are buying cattle in Chicago, sir.”
“Let ‘em. And if you’re raising longhorns, in two or three years you’ll be the only rancher in Texas with any stock.”
Thomas nodded. “You’ve convinced me. Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it. Give my best to your family.”
“I will, sir. Good day.” Thomas turned back toward the house. “Will you walk back with me, Miss Hamilton?” He offered her his arm.
She smiled and took his arm. “Of course.”
“Nice gentleman,” Thomas said.
She looked back. “Yes. He’s been very kind to me.” She hesitated and then pointed to the house. “I live here, not in the village, but it isn’t what you think.”
“What do I think?”
“Everybody thinks I’m Mr. Van Winkler’s mistress.”
“I don’t.”
“Are you so sure?”
“Yes. If you were his mistress you’d know his Christian name.”
She laughed. “In that case, please let me answer your earlier questions again without all the subterfuge.”
He nodded. “If it’s important to you, please do.”
“My grandmother was Mr. Van Winkler’s housekeeper. When Grandmother died, Mr. Van Winkler asked me if I’d like to take her place. I had no idea how to find my mother or if she’d even want me, so I said yes. In all those years he has never once been anything but a very kind and polite employer.”
“It must be difficult for you living under that cloud of – what’s the word?”
“Shame?”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. Suspicion? No. I still can’t think of the word.”
“It isn’t so bad, really. But I envy you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Going to Texas where everything’s new and exciting.”
He nodded. “I must admit that I’m very excited.”
“When will you be leaving?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Soon, I hope.” He turned around to see Van Winkler hurrying to catch up with them so he stopped to wait and released Jane from his arm.
“I was just going to suggest that you hire Spanish vaqueros to help you gather your herd,” Van Winkler said breathlessly. “And I wanted to invite you to stay for supper.”
“Thank you, sir,” Thomas said, “but I sailed over in my uncle’s sharpie and we have no light on our point. I’m not a good enough starlight navigator to make it back after dark.”
“Then spend the night,” Van Winkler suggested. “Jane almost never has the opportunity to talk to anyone her own age.”
“Mr. Van Buskirk’s family will worry if he’s not home before dark,” she said.
“Actually they’re in New York,” Thomas replied.
“Good, that’s settled.” Van Winkler started again toward the house. “Although we weren’t expecting guests, I’m certain that Jane can produce something wonderful. She’s a marvelous cook.”
Thomas looked at her in alarm. “I hope I’m not imposing.”
She smiled and waved her hand in dismissal.
“As I was saying about the vaqueros,” Van Winkler continued, “they know the country and those long horned beasts. If you were to take any of these local cowboys they’d quit you or die out there.” He looked at Thomas. “Assuming you haven’t already made any commitments for your ranch hands, that is.”
“I haven’t, sir. I thought that the first order of business would be buying cattle.”
Van Winkler mounted the steps to the porch then opened the front door. “You and Jane go in. I have to change my boots.”
“Thank you.” Thomas
stood back to let Jane go first then followed her inside. “What a handsome old house.”
“It was built in 1660,” she said leading him through the entry hall to a parlor with book lined walls.
Thomas gawked. “He has more books than most libraries.”
“This is just the overflow from his real library,” she giggled and pointed deeper into the house. “There are books in every room, excepting the kitchen and hall.”
“He couldn’t possibly have read all these books.”
“Oh I’m quite sure he has. I’ve read many of them and I haven’t been at it nearly as long as he has. Do you read?”
Thomas was studying the book spines. “Not these kinds of books. In fact, I doubt that I’ve read an entire book since I finished school. Do you read Latin?”
“Yes.” She glanced out toward the front. “Be careful. I think Mr. Van Winkler may be matchmaking.”
“What?”
“He thinks of himself as my surrogate father and it appears to me that he’s found an interesting prospective son in law.”
“Me?”
“You’re half Indian and so am I.”
“Oh.” Thomas chuckled. “I suppose I am at that. Odd, but that fact simply never occurred to me.”
“Make yourself at home. I have to wash-up and then see if I can find anything edible for supper.”
“Can I help you?”
“You cook?”
“No. But – no. I wouldn’t know the first thing about it.”
“Then read a book.”
Thomas watched her climb the stairs and then went back to peruse the book shelves.
“Do you read?” Van Winkler asked as he came in.
“No, sir. Not for pleasure. You certainly have a wide variety of subjects.”
“I make notes when I read. If I come across an interesting or new subject I write it down and then order a book about it the next time I’m in Manhattan.”
Thomas nodded.
“You’ll miss that in Texas.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“Being here in New York you can buy anything you can afford from anywhere in the world and have it delivered to your door in a few months. It won’t be like that in Texas.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“I have some books about Texas. Nothing very recent. And I have quite a few about the Conquest of New Spain.” He walked to the shelf and showed Thomas.
“Have you heard of a woman they called La Malinche?”
“Yes. She was an Aztec princess who became Cortés’s mistress and interpreter.”
“My mother’s a descendent of hers.”
“Then you are a descendent of Cortés.” Van Winkler chose a book. “You might like to borrow this.”
“I’d like to read it here, sir, if you don’t mind, but I don’t borrow books.”
“You won’t read that in a single night.”
Thomas was watching Jane come down the stairs. She was wearing a blue dress with a matching ribbon in her hair and her figure met all his imaginings. “Perhaps I could come back another day. To read your book.”
“You’d be very welcome any time.”
July 4, 1828
Van Buskirk Point, New Jersey
Thomas walked onto the front porch. “Good morning, Mother. Happy Independence Day.”
“Happy Independence Day to you,” Marina said. “You’re up early.”
“It’s going to be a big day.” Thomas sat down beside her. “Where is everybody?”
“Your father and Jack have taken little John fishing. Your aunt and uncle left in a buggy going somewhere that I didn’t quite catch. Everyone else is still asleep.” She looked at Thomas. “What’s happened to your Texas plans?”
“I’m still planning.”
“You better be planning for next year. If you leave now and there’s an early winter you’ll freeze to death on the trail.”
“Yes, you’re right, Mother. Next spring might be best.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“About whatever it is that’s cooled your fervor for Texas?”
“My fervor for Texas hasn’t cooled; I’ve just come upon a small distraction.”
“What kind of distraction?”
“The female kind. You’ll meet her later. I invited her to the picnic. She’ll be coming across from Staten Island.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Marina warned. “I hate surprises. Who is she?”
“Her name is Jane Hamilton. She lives on Montauk Point.”
“The girl that lives with Paul Van Winkler?”
“She’s his housekeeper,” Thomas said defensively.
“She’s notoriously his child mistress, Thomas,” Marina contradicted.
“They’re both victims of vicious rumors,” he insisted.
“Well yes, that’s possible, of course.” Marina looked thoughtful for a moment. “Did she tell you that she’s Alexander Hamilton’s illegitimate daughter?”
“No.” He looked at Marina in surprise. “Are you sure that she’s Hamilton’s daughter?”
“No, and neither is anyone else. But that’s what her mother claimed.”
“Wait. That can’t be right. Burr killed Hamilton before I was born.”
“Yes. Jane’s a year or two older than you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I saw her with her mother when you were an infant. Jane was already walking and talking. She might even be three or four years older than you are.”
Thomas stood up. “Excuse me, Mother, but I need to go stop her before she comes.”
“Wait,” Marina caught his hand and pulled him back into the chair. “Let her come.”
“No. I don’t want to embarrass her or shame the family.”
“Listen to me, Thomas. You caught me off guard and I said some things that I regret.”
“You said some things that Jane should have said.”
“Such as she’s older than you thought?”
“No. Such as she’s Alexander Hamilton’s illegitimate daughter.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It doesn’t, except that it means she may be hiding other things from me.”
“What if she doesn’t believe that she really is Hamilton’s daughter?”
“She uses the name Hamilton.”
“If that’s her legal name she doesn’t have much choice, Thomas.”
“I think I’ve made a mistake, Mother.”
“Tell me why.”
“Even though I’m almost certain that there’s no truth to the rumor about Jane and Mr. Van Winkler, I’ve been troubled by it from the start and... That’s all.”
“He knows that you’re in love with her, I gather?”
“Yes. He’s been quite encouraging, if the truth be told.”
“So it was either all a vicious rumor, as you said, or they’ve gotten over each other and they now want to move on. Why is that troubling?”
“Well, she has a past. I mean…”
“You mean she might not be a virgin.”
“Mother,” he complained.
“What if she was a widow? Would that trouble you?”
“No but…”
“What is she was divorced? Would that trouble you?”
“It might.”
She shrugged. “Okay. You have to make your choice, Thomas. But if you’re worried about your family embarrassing her, you needn’t. We all live in glass houses so none of us is likely to throw any stones.”
“Except Anna. She has little care for anyone’s broken windows or hurt feelings.”
“Anna’s in Washington for some kind of political rally and won’t be coming.”
“Will Dad recognize Jane’s name the way you did?”
“Yes, and Nannette will too, but I guarantee neither will say an unkind word.”
Thomas rubbed his eyes. “I just don’t know what to do, Mother.”
“Well, Son, all
I can add is that the Van Buskirks accepted me into their family, and if they did that, your girl should have no trouble at all.”
~
Jack was sitting on the porch steps when Caroline came out of the house with a blanket over her arm. “It’s too early for fireworks,” he said.
She sat down beside him and whispered. “I thought we might take a walk in the woods and make our own fireworks on this blanket before it gets dark.”
He looked surprised.
“I can’t relax in that squeaky bed,” she said defensively. “I keep thinking that everyone’s listening.”
He smiled, stood up, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “How about the hayloft? It’s closer.”
“Umm, I like the way you think.” She looked around. “Where’s little John?”
“He’s playing with his lead soldiers on the beach with Dad.”
They started toward the barn.
“Little John sure loves your dad,” Caroline said.
“Dad likes children. Mother used to get furious at him because she claimed that she was always stuck with disciplining us while he had all the fun. The truth was that he liked us and she didn’t.”
“He certainly spoiled Anna.”
“Anna was the most hurt when my mother walked out on us.” He thought a moment. “No. That’s wrong. William was crushed, but he hid it. I think that’s why he’s always so angry. But Anna was the most vulnerable so we all spoiled her.”
“Robert’s the one who seems strange to me.”
Jack chuckled. “Robert’s nervous around women. He’s the best of us all.”
“What do you think of Thomas’s girl friend?”
“She’s very pretty and has a marvelous figure.”
Caroline jabbed him with her elbow. “That was an evasive answer.”
He shrugged. “What else can I say? I like her.”
She squinted into the setting sun, trying to read his expression. “Does it bother you that she’s an Indian who’s been living with an old man since she was a girl?”
“No.” He pushed the barn door open, pulled her inside and closed the door. “The only thing that bothers me is that the squeaky bed in our room upstairs inhibits you.”
She ducked away from him and ran to the ladder. “Let’s see if we can shake the barn.”
~
Jane giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Thomas asked.