“Aunt Annie, we’ve got to hitch up the wagon and get away from here, quick!” He pointed excitedly toward the west. “Santa Anna’s comin’! He could be here any time.”

Annie brought her hands up to her breasts, her throat suddenly tight. “How do you know?”

“A rider just came by. Sam Houston sent him. Mama said for me to help you. Aunt Petra’ll be ready for us by the time we get there.”

In the back of her mind Annie had known all along that this might happen, but she had refused to acknowledge it by word or deed. “I wish James was here,” she said. But neither James nor Andrew had been heard from since they had ridden away in different directions to search for Michael. She pointed toward the river. “You’ll have to go fetch the mules. Last I saw of them, they were grazin’ down thataway.”

As Mordecai reined his horse around the cabin and struck a long trot toward the river, she turned back into the kitchen, trying to decide what to take. They couldn’t put a lot on the wagon, not and have room for her and Petra and Petra’s children. Food, of course: cornmeal, what little flour there was, some hog lard, a couple of slabs of bacon, a cured ham. And a skillet and a pot to cook in. Blankets, a few extra clothes because the late-March weather remained wet and cold. And corn to feed the mules. She quickly began gathering these things and carrying them out to the wagon. She had most of them secured by the time Mordecai returned, driving a pair of mules Baptiste Villaret had left behind with the wagon. The wise old Frenchman had feared all along that this situation might arise. He had left the Lewis families prepared as well as he could.

When they had hitched the mules she took a long look at the cabin that had become home. Tears stung her eyes as she realized she might not see it again. She started to climb up into the wagon, then stepped back.

Mordecai said urgently, “We better be hurryin’.”

“In a minute.” She went back into her bedroom. She glanced for a moment at the bed, remembering Sly Shipman. She thought she should curse his memory, but at this moment she could only take warmth and comfort from it. She dug into a box and came up with several of her drawings, tied together with a black ribbon. They were of family members back home in Tennessee, of her mother. There were sketches of Michael and Andrew and James. And there was one of Shipman.

If the Mexicans came they would probably burn the cabin and everything in it. She would not give them the chance to destroy these. She carried them to the wagon and stuck them between the stacked blankets. She found that Mordecai had pulled the wagon sheet up over the hoops and secured it, for the sky was leaden and promised more rain. There had already been more than enough. The wheels pulled heavily in the mud as Annie clucked at the team and flipped the reins to start them moving. Mordecai rode close beside her on his dun horse.