He put his good hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Come, Manuel. I will see you home.”

Manuel pulled away from him and stepped back. His dark eyes crackled with fury. “No. You helped kill him. I can get home by myself.”

“Manuel—”

The boy’s fists were clenched. “If ever I see you again, I hope it is over the sights of my rifle.” He turned and trudged toward the wooden bridge and the road that led to town.

Díaz watched him with burning eyes. The shoulder ached, and he brought his hand up to it again.

He wondered why he had ever chosen to become a soldier.

XXV

THE EVENT would become known in Texas history as the Runaway Scrape, the flight of the Texan settlers to escape the wrath of Santa Anna and his advancing armies. It began as word spread across the land that Travis and his men had been annihilated within the blood-drenched walls of the Alamo. Indeed, Santa Anna purposely set the retreat in motion to clear as many people as possible from the path of his troops. When the guns at the Alamo fell silent, Mrs. Almaron Dickenson was found with a handful of Mexican women, huddled in terror in one of the old chapel’s rooms. He sent the newly-widowed woman and her baby forth to carry the news to the town of Gonzales, sure the terrible story she told would throw Texas into panic and simplify his sweep across the rebellious colonies.

The civilian evacuation became a stampede after news of the horror at Goliad. There the indecisive Fannin, who had declined to reinforce Travis at the Alamo, delayed a retreat ordered by Sam Houston until it was too late. He surrendered his entire force to Mexican troops under General José Urrea, who promised with good intentions that they would be granted mercy as prisoners of war and repatriated to the United States.

Santa Anna coldly countermanded Urrea and ordered the captives executed. To the disgust and shame of Urrea, an honorable man, most of four hundred men were marched out of the old Goliad fort on Palm Sunday, lined up, and shot by firing squads. Only a handful escaped by fleeing between volleys, hiding from the lancers who galloped out to overtake them and run them through.

Certain now that Santa Anna meant to slaughter every American who fell into his hands, settler families began a desperate run for safety across the Sabine River. Sam Houston himself sent riders out to warn them and hurry them along. A great many of their menfolk rallied to Houston’s army, driven by a cold fury over the Alamo and Goliad, and hoping at the least to fight a delaying action that would allow their families time to escape.

Annie Lewis was in her cabin alone when young Mordecai came galloping over from the direction of Andrew and Petra’s, his face aflush with excitement. He hit the ground running, barely taking time to wrap the reins around a post to keep his horse from running away. He rushed up to the dog run, where Annie stood in the cold wind, wiping her hands on a cotton apron.