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before lifting the basket with one hand and sliding his arm around her waist with the other. “Perhaps this is a topic better broached another day.”
    “What?” she said as she kept her attention fixed on the path ahead. “The baby or the wedding?”
    He stopped short, nearly sending her toppling forward. “Neither, actually. You see, I was about to tell you that I must—”
    “Kiss me.”
    “Must I?” His expression softened as he set the basket aside and pretended to consider the situation.
    “Indeed, you must. At once.” She smiled. “I insist.”
    A daring move, yet it worked. Whatever bad news Dan Hill was about to deliver would now be postponed if not indefinitely, at least momentarily.
    The kiss ended, Dan once again took up the picnic basket. Without a word, he forged ahead. Tempted as she was to remain in place until the doctor realized he walked alone, Viola was smart enough to realize that might not happen until he arrived on her doorstep and found her missing. With a sigh, she shouldered her pride and followed Dan Hill yet again down a road that led away from the question of matrimony.

    * * *

    “Micah Tate a deserter?”
    The expression on Caleb Spencer’s face said much more than the words he’d just spoken. Having known Josiah much longer than Caleb, Micah couldn’t bring himself to chance a look in his direction.
    The hope of finding relief in telling the truth of his past shriveled under the two men’s stares. Now that he’d opened his mouth, there was no turning back. Rather than pace, Micah sank back into the chair and then, in defiance of his shame, straightened his backbone.
    “Yeah,” he said as he tried not to match his tone to the way he felt. “It all started back in January of ’28. We’d come to Texas with Austin in ’21 and were doing pretty well for ourselves on a piece of land that ran right up to the Brazos. Caroline and the baby were puny, but I figured it to be the cold weather, you know? Weren’t more than a few sneezes and a sniffle. Seems like I would’ve known if it’d been worse.” He paused until the memory dimmed, then swung his gaze to Caleb. “Maybe you heard about the Fredonia Rebellion.”
    Caleb nodded. Josiah, however, looked puzzled.
    “The alcaldes in Nacogdoches declared independence from Mexico,” Micah explained. “Something about disputes over land grants, if I remember correctly. Austin sided with the Mexicans and mustered up our militia to head up there and help them put down the rebellion. Didn’t take long. Those who didn’t run ended up in trouble with the Cherokee for involving them in the spat. I was standing guard outside the Stone Fort when I got the letter.”
    He rose, unable to sit any longer.
    “You don’t have to go any further with this,” Caleb said. “I believe I understand.”
    “No. You can’t possibly. I walked—no, I pretty much ran when I couldn’t hitch a ride in some farmer’s wagon—all the way home, only to find two fresh-dug graves and a whole bunch of people looking at me like I was responsible.”
    “So you left.” This from Josiah, who now stood and placed a hand on Micah’s shoulder.
    Micah shrugged away from his friend. “Yeah, I left. Seems I was good at that. I left Caroline when she needed me. Left the militia without asking for leave.” He paused only to draw in enough breath to continue. “Figured it was just as well I kept on walking until I found a vessel leaving out of Galveston with need of a deckhand.”
    “And you ended up here.” Caleb shrugged. “I can find nothing to hold against you, Tate,” he said. “The way I see it, you did what was asked of you then returned home with good cause. Unless I’m mistaken and you left the battlefield.”
    “No, the fighting was done,” Micah said with the last of the air from his lungs.
    “And your homestead?”
    Again he was back on the banks of the Brazos; again he pushed away the memory. “Closed the door and walked out with the