Free Paxton and the Lone Star by Kerry Newcomb

their horses, along with a carefully honed knife and hand ax, their bedrolls, and their share of the money they had won racing Firetail.
    True slipped out the side door. He could still feel the warmth of Lavinia’s parting embrace, still see her ebony, tear-stained face contort with grief as she started to sob and ran back into the kitchen. Joseph and Andrew were standing by the horses and watching Thomas busily making last-minute adjustments to ropes and cinches. “Well?” True said. “We ready?”
    Thomas’s face reddened. He hadn’t needed to lift a finger, but hadn’t been able to help himself. “You say goodbye to your mother yet?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
    â€œI was, ah, gonna save that …”
    â€œShe’s waiting inside for you.”
    â€œYes, sir.” Every other aspect of leaving was tempered by the excitement of the adventure ahead. This moment, though, was one True dreaded. The front steps seemed too high to climb. His feet dragged. She was in the parlor, her back to him as she sat on the sofa. True paused in the doorway. “Mother,” he said.
    Her auburn hair hung to her shoulders, which stiffened at the sound of his voice. The brightly colored print dress was more festive than any he could remember her wearing. She turned slowly and waited for him to join her, then reached out as if to draw him to her, but instead encircled his neck with a chain and amulet. The amulet was of pounded gold filagree, shaped into finely worked brambles clustered about a tree.
    â€œFirst-born of my flesh,” she whispered. Tears appeared at the corners of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Your father gave this to me when we married. It has been in his family for generations, and passes from the first-born son to his wife, and so on. There are those who would say your brother Jason should have it, but it is mine to bestow and I choose you. You are my first-born. The blood of pirates and of gypsies flows in your veins. You will wear the charm.”
    True started to speak, but Adriana pressed her fingers to his lips and shook her head no. “Loneliness for the mother who bore him, loneliness for Adriana,” she said in a wistful singsong. “I love you, my son, so I won’t lie to you. You won’t be back. None of you will return. I have seen it in the flame of the candle and in the lay of the cards. Trouble lies ahead, flesh of my flesh. Great deeds, death for some, life for others. And for you?” The faintest of smiles played fleetingly across her face. “As the tree rises from the brambles, so shall you overcome adversity.”
    â€œI don’t have to go, Mother,” True said, faltering.
    Adriana stood and cupped True’s face in her hands. “Yes you do, my first-born. More than any of the others, perhaps. I do not know this Texas that Hogjaw speaks of, but I can see in your eyes that it calls you. And it is written, somewhere, that you must go. As I love you, I would not hold you back.”
    True rose, leaned forward to accept her kiss on his cheek and feel her arms around him for the last time. “Part of me will always be here with you, Mother,” he said, his eyes misting.
    â€œI know, my son. And my love will be with you all your days.” She pushed away from him, held him at arm’s length. Her smile was forced, a smile to belie the pain in her heart. She patted his arm. “Your brothers will be anxious.…”
    True tucked the amulet inside his shirt. The metal was cold against his skin, but it warmed quickly. He leaned down and kissed his mother’s cheek. She tasted of tears.
    The heat outside was oppressive though the hour was still early. Joseph and Andrew, already mounted, waited patiently. Their father stood between their horses, holding Firetail’s reins. Hogjaw did not like departures, and was waiting down by the gate at the end of the meadow. Thomas and the mountain