CHAPTER SIX
A KNIGHT COME RIDING

When we McCartys arrived at Fort Davis, we found that several other families had already found cabins in or near the fort walls, and of course there was a shortage of houses. Pa and Pres, with plenty of help from all of us had a crude cabin up very quickly, giving us a feeling of security because it stood just outside the fort wall.

I had the nicest surprise when I found my newest and best girl friend, Deborah Kane, was to be my next door neighbor. She was just my age, sweet sixteen, and we had the best times together. Ruth approved of this friendship, because she said Mrs. Kane and Deborah acted like perfect ladies.

While the women around the fort were trying to get their new homes in order, our men had a far harder task, for all their cattle and houses were turned out to range, and they had to watch over them constantly. They knew the Indians would come near the fort and even creep in at night to nibble at the edges of the herds, but Mr. Indian suddenly turned very cautious for riding into the fort came members of the Home Guard, who were to take over the defense problem.

You don't have to convince early settlers that this Texas Home Guard wrote indelible pages in history of the Lone Star State. We were and are grateful to these men, on the outposts of civilization, who took solemn oaths to protect and defend their people from Indians and outlaws. They kept these oaths at the sacrifice of many hundreds of their members.

You must remember that during the Civil War, all Confederate soldiers were taken out of Texas; then when the war was over, it was years before Union men were sent to man the forts. If it had not been for the Texas Home guard, the Indians would have finished off the settlers in one hurry.

These guards or "rangers" as we called them, were pleased and excited to see settlers rushing toward Fort Davis, for it meant that the Indians were closing in, and that would mean some action for them. When things quieted down, there would be time for get-togethers such as big picnics and dances.

Deborah and I were all atwitter, for we had noticed that Ellie Clark 's band of rangers were all good looking and mostly unmarried. No wonder the prospect of the first dance had us floating on air. The big night was at hand, and Deborah and I spent hours primping and giggling. Ruth tried to be patient with us, but finally had to come in and warn us, "Hurry up girls. Thomas is ready to go and, you know he can't wait for nobody. You're both pretty as pictures, and you can't improve it none by messin' with your hair."

Soon we were whirling from one partner to another to the strains of two fiddles and a guitar. It so happened that my partner of the moment finished our dance just in front of the musicians. I glanced over at them and clapped my hands, along with all the dancers. To show appreciation for the very good dance music and the excellent caller.

One fiddler, tall, dark and really handsome, smiled back at me as I stood within ten feet of him. I lower my eyelids discreetly; after all this man was a perfect stranger. I did notice out of the corner of my eye that the fiddler suddenly handed his fiddle to a new volunteer. Before the next set was ready, one of Pa's friend came up to me and said, "Miss Angelina this is Joe Browning. He's been pesterin' the life out o' me to be introduced to you, but I feel it me duty to warn you; he has hearts hanin' to his belt from girls all over west Texas!"

The heartbreaker bowed deeply and laughed heartily. Then he spoke in that warm southern drawl, "Don't you mind him, Miss McCarty; he's just jealous. I had to bribe him somethin' awful to get this introduction. Will you honor me with the next set?"

The next set happened to be a waltz, and I knew that fiddler had left instructions with the musicians before he came over to me. Joe Browning was a fast worker; he didn't intend to share this dance with anybody else.

We waltzed around the room once; then Joe said, "My! My! Miss McCarty, you're the best waltzer I ever danced with!"

"Have all the girls in the west heart that, Mr. Browning?"

I could see Joe blink, and then he burst out laughing. "Now, Miss McCarty, don't you listen to that skunk. He was just trying to plague me. I don't really know many girls in these parts, honest! Besides, you do dance very well."

I smiled up at him in my most lady like manner. "You are a nice dancer yourself."

I knew this was going to be an usually long waltz because I had seen Joe wink at the musicians as we passed by. He did know all the tricks. When we walked back to where Deborah was sitting, that southern drawl caused my heart to skip a beat. "Thank you for this dance, Miss... Angelina."

My eyes blazed up at this daring young man, but I cooled down immediately. I could see he was begging permission.

"You're quite welcome..."

"Joe," he prompted, but I just smiled, for Ruth had warned me often about these "forward" girls.

It wasn't very long after the dance until Pres came in to tell Ruth that the whole fort neighborhood was gossiping about Joe Browning sparking Miss Angelina McCarty. Pres and the Rangers were betting high stakes among themselves that Joe would or would not win out. There were those who said Thomas McCarty would hang Joe's scalp to his belt if he ever got on to the fact that Joe was hanging around.

Pres was having the best time bringing in all this gossip, and I had a feeling he was adding a lot of stories on his own just to tease me, but Ruth shut him up good; she knew I wasn't laughing. I was plain worried that Pa might take a dislike to Joe and tell me to send him scooting.

Joe was just twenty-two then, and I must say he was smart enough to play his hand carefully. It doesn't seem possible, but two whole years, when Joe could find time from cow-works and Indian fighting, he managed to come by to our house to visit. I was relieved when he made many of these calls when Pa wasn't home.

Ruth, bless her heart, watched this romance flower; so she had the good sense to welcome Joe and get to know him very well. I could see they were getting to be very good friends, and that made me enjoy Joe all the more.

It took him no time at all to win over Pres and the younger brothers, but when Pa found him around, Joe was a perfect stranger. Pa was polite to him, but never friendly.

One day Joe came by to find I had gone visiting; so he waited for my return. This was his chance to beg a little sympathy from Ruth. She told me later that he was mighty blue and discouraged, and he spoke some very plain words. "How much longer do you think I'm gonna have to hang around here, Mrs. McCarty? Seems to me I'm making no headway at all!"

"Now Joe! Haven't I told you! Don't crowd her and don't bed her either. She's a McCarty, you know. They're a strange breed."

"What's really wrong, Mrs. McCarty? Sometimes I'm just as sure as Angie love me, but she won't admit it."

"The truth is... she's afraid of what her Pa will do."

"You mean....she's really afraid of him?"

"Not real fear, like you men mean, but afraid of his opinion... whether you'll live up to his proud ways, or maybe what he'd say if he took a dislike to you. Thomas makes a lot of to-do about family stock."

"Well! Hell! I ask your pardon, ma'am, I forgot, but who does he think he is? My family can match his anytime, and I can prove it!"

"I know, Joe, it's just that Thomas, like any other father, doesn't think there is a man alive who is good enough to marry his daughter." Well, I'm havin' it out with Angie tonight. Either we get married this month or not at all! I've fooled around all I'm going to. She's eighteen in a couple of weeks, and she's old enough to make up her own mind. It's me or her Pa. She can decide that. I offered to go talk to her Pa a long time ago, but she made me promise I wouldn't approach him. Now, she can do it!"

Ruth said Joe dashed out the door, got on his horse and was out of sight in a minute. She could tell by the set of his straight back that he was seething. Something was going to pop.

He came back to our house just after supper and asked me to go for a walk outside the fort wall. It didn't take him very long to tell me, in no uncertain terms, what he thought of this one-sided romance. I just stared at him, and all of a sudden tears were rolling down my face, and I was rushing into his arms. "Joe, oh Joe! I thought you were never going to ask me again!"

"Well I'll be damned!" Said my flabbergasted southern gentleman as he leaned weakly against the fort wall for support.

The next morning I bustled around the house singing at the top of my voice. Ruth didn't have to be told that Joe and I had an understanding. Near noon when Pa was due for dinner, I quit singing and started worrying. I thought Pa would never come in sight.

Wasn't it strange that I was suddenly thinking of what one of my brothers said to the other, those many years ago, "When you're ready to go... go!" I was also remembering that Pa raised Cain when they left home, but they went on just the same. I was talking to myself now, "Maybe they were just as afraid as I am now, but they spoke their mind... just like I'm going to!"

I met Pa quite away from the house and asked him to rest under the shade of a tree for a minute, for I wanted to tell him something. I had made up my mind and I was going to get everything said before he could start talking or arguing. Yes, I remember very well exactly what I said. After all, I'd been rehearsing most of the morning.

"Pa, I want to tell you that Joe and I want to get married. He wanted to come to you to ask for my hand, but I asked him not to, for I wanted to tell you in my own way."

"I know you don't know much of anything about Joe's people, but old man Anderson at Waco has known the Brownings all his life. You go see him and find out about Joe... and Pa, if he hasn't the right kind of family I .... I promise I won't marry him."

I looked Pa right in the eye, and He looked right through me for the longest minute; then he said, "I'll go tomorrow. Is dinner ready?"

Pa was up and on his way to Waco by day break that next morning, but he wasn't out of sight until I was moaning to Ruth, "I'm sorry I made that promise to Pa. What if Joe's folks are trash? I's not marry them; I'm marrying Joe!"

"Now, Angie. That's no way to talk. You've no cause to worry; Joe's folks are all right. I can tell you that. Goodness knows, I oughta know about them; I've plied him with questions for over two years!"

I found out from Ruth later when Pa arrived at Waco and hunted up Mr. Anderson, it didn't take him long to realize he had come to the right man. Not only did Mr. Anderson know all the Brownings, but he was mighty proud of the opportunity to talk about these old friends.

Pa found out that my Joe, was really Joseph Alansing, was the son of Frederick Browning, a wealthy plantation owner of North Carolina. His mother was Mary Lucas Burke of a distinguished family of Georgia.

Joe's father died some years before the Civil War, but there were four sons to carry on the Browning name. Some years later, Joe's mother married a Mr. Stegall. Joe was fifteen at the time and he decided it was about time for him to be moving out. It just happened that an aunt and uncle were moving west, and Joe asked to travel with them. He had one idea, and that was to become a real cowboy.

He got a job with Bob Sloan, and that paid him twenty dollars a month during that first summer. In the fall Mr. Anderson said he encouraged Joe to join the Texas Rangers, and that's when his salary raised to five more dollars a month. It was Sull Ross and his forty Rangers who needed a horse-wrangler; so young Joe started at the bottom job and was mighty glad to get it.

It was this Sull Ross and his men who finally killed the infamous Indian chief, Pete Nacoma. This was the chief who twenty-five years before had captured a little white girl, Cynthia Ann Parker. She was nine years old. When she was of suitable age, the chief made her his wife, and she bore him three children.

As Mr. Anderson explained to Pa, this didn't make white people very happy, and any Ranger would have given his eye teeth to get a shot at Pete Nacoma. It was Ross who killed him in one of the bloodiest battles in the war with the prairie Indians.

Joe told Mr. Anderson that when Ross and his Rangers rode into the Indian camp after battle, a squaw held her baby above her head and cried, "Don't shoot! Me Cynthia Ann Parker."

On the way home young Joe, the lowly horse wrangler, got to ride along and talk with Cynthia Ann. He said she looked like any other squaw, all brown from sun burn, but her eyes betrayed her. They were bluer that the sky above.

She was a real Indian mother, though. Her baby had been crying the whole trip, but when she and Joe came to a creek full of water, Cynthia Ann took her little papoose out of his bag and ducked him in the cold water. That baby quit bawling right now!

Joe stayed with Ross a few months, then asked to be transferred to Ellie Clark's band, and he had been riding the Texas range ever since.

Mr. Anderson concluded with his report with, "Joe's a good shot, good company and a good worker. Sometimes I think he's too good-natured for his own good. He'd give you his best horse and throw in the bridle to boot.

"Joe's accumulated a nice herd of cattle and some pretty good horses. I guess that's about all I can tell you except all my people were powerfully fond of Frederick Browning, and we sure like his son Joe a lot, maybe because he looked just like his father with that black hair and the honest-to-God green eyes."

Pa couldn't have been gone more than a couple of three days, but as far as I was concerned, it was months and months. When he did come in sight, Ruth suggested that we stay in the house and go on with our knitting and give him his own sweet time to tell us what he had leaned. We both knew there was no use trying to rush Pa' he'd keep us on a hot skillet as long as he could.

Pres and the boys came in from the field to greet Pa. He gave strict attention to each one, then led them into the house where he came over to Ruth to kiss her with unusual ardor, then turned to me as if he was asking the time of day and said casually, "When's the wedding, Angie."

On the twenty-fifth of January, 1865, the people of Fort Davis and the neighboring forts were invited to our wedding. Of course it was a glorious affair. Folks were glad enough for any excuse to get together, and a wedding was the best excuse in the world. What if we did have snow on the ground, and it was cold enough to freeze your bones solid! The men built a big brush fire in our yard, and those who couldn't get in the house could stand around the fire in perfect comfort.

There were thirty gallons of molasses boiling in a washtub so the children could have all the candy they could eat. There were cakes and pies all the coffee the grownups could want. My friend Deborah and a whole slew of young people served that crowd until daybreak.

We decided the last minute to have ceremony preformed in the yard so everybody could see. Just at eight o'clock Pa signaled for me to come out the door. I hope I was as pretty as I felt in my new white swiss dress with long, flowing sleeves, basque waist, and full skirt with tiny tucks from the waist to the knee. Joseph Alansing Browning was very handsome in homespun.

While firelight cast a rosy glow over the whole scene, Probate Judge Gadis E. Miller pronounced us man and wife. Everybody rushed toward us to shake hands or hug and kiss us, but I remember one old with-looking granny, who wheezed as she cackled, "Land sakes, Angie, you sure look purty tonight, but I hate to think what you'll look like a year from now! "