They brought the blue ox to the shed, where Andrew put out a little hay and opened the gate so the animal would be free to go to the river for water and then drift away to graze. The ox never strayed far. He knew where the feed was.

Back in the cabin, sitting at the table and drinking coffee they saved for company and special occasions, Andrew asked, “What is the news in Bexar?”

Zaragosa frowned, pondering a while before he answered. His voice carried a tone of regret. “There is troublesome news from Mexico City, my friend. You know there have always been those there who have distrusted you Americans. Do you remember the General Mier y Terán, who was in Texas last year?”

“I heard of him.”

“He did not like what he saw. He said visiting the American colonies was like visiting the United States. He found nothing of Mexico in them. He said the Americans are winning Texas without a battle and the central government should take steps. Now it has. Drastic steps.”

Andrew felt a foreboding and set his coffee cup down. Those damned Fredonians. What they did’ll keep coming back to haunt us. “What kind of steps?”

“It has ordered a stop to all further immigration by Americans. Only those who have their proper land papers or a proper passport can enter Texas.”

Andrew’s stomach began to burn with the rising of anger. “What about the ones already on their way?”

“They will be stopped unless they bring the papers.”

Andrew saw the quick misgivings in Petra’s eyes. He said, “We have relatives coming from Tennessee. Austin promised they could have land next to ours.”

“Did he send them the papers?”

“No. They were to get those when they arrive.”

Zaragosa shook his head regretfully. “Then it is too late. Unless they somehow miss the soldiers, they will be turned back. They will never reach here.”

Andrew forgot he had been speaking in Spanish. “This is a hell of a damned thing,” he declared angrily. “We were promised—”

“Promised by Austin, not by Mexico City. I wish there were something I could do. If I were still in the army—in the army I could do things, or I could overlook things.”

Andrew walked to the door, worriedly staring out past the dog-run toward the trail to San Felipe. “I dread seeing Michael when he hears this. He will bust a gut.”

Petra came up behind him and placed her hands gently on Andrew’s shoulder. “Perhaps they will miss the soldiers.”

Andrew shook his head. “They can’t. We wrote them to travel the main trail to Nacogdoches.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I am sorry, Andrew. I know how much you and Michael wanted them here.”

He turned, his troubled eyes on Zaragosa. “Maybe there is something I can do. I will ride to San Felipe tonight and get Austin to make out the papers in the morning. I will go then to Nacogdoches and take the trail east toward Louisiana. With luck, maybe I can find them before the soldiers do.”