Deputy at Large

by Judge Rodriguez

  Chapter 24

  Early the following afternoon, the posse rides up to the gates of Fort Reno and are stopped by a guard demanding their business on the fort’s grounds.

  Joey flashes her badge and asks to see the fort commanding officer. The guard gives her surprisingly little trouble about confirming her identity, before allowing the party to pass through.

  Once inside the fort, John notices Josh seemingly relax, as if he were returning home.

  As they approach the Commanding Officer’s Quarters, John turns in his saddle and tells everyone this is something the lawmen have to take care of themselves.

  Once everyone dismounts, John and Joey head to the door and stop just outside it. John turns and motions Josh to follow with them. Now that he’s been able to make his point be known, John feels like his blood-brother can be made to understand why he’s not fully trusted. Even though he isn’t, he should still be included in this conversation. If, for no other reason, he needs to know what his boss is being accused of.

  Josh comes to the door as quickly as he’s able and Joey knocks, opening the door at the prompting.

  Major Richards is seated at a desk, smoking a cigar reading reports, flanked by two corporals standing at ease as the group approaches.

  John looks at Joey and says quietly, “If you don’t mind, I’ll take point on this. I’m far more familiar with everyone involved.”

  She nods, then holds out her hand motioning for him to go forward.

  As John steps up to the desk, Richards holds up his left hand, grabs a quill, scribbles a quick note on the report, motions to one of the corporals standing close by and says, “Deliver this to the quartermaster.”

  The corporal salutes smartly, takes the sheet and rushes from the room.

  The major looks at John, his expression a mixture of amusement and surprise. “So, Marshal, I can’t say I’m very surprised to see you here. Why did it take so long, though? I was about to give up hope you had gotten my little note.”

  “How long ago did you write it?” John asks curiously.

  “More than a month ago. Just a moment, please.” He motions the other corporal in the room forward and says, “I want you to go find Sargent Lopez and tell him to move the mules to the pasture in the northwest.”

  The young man salutes and walks briskly from the room. Richards waits until he hears the door close firmly before saying, “Alright. Now that we’re alone, you’ve investigated what I wrote you about, I take it?”

  John nods and seats himself in an available chair. Quickly, he motions for the other two to seat themselves. He looks at Richards and takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “So, before I begin, know that I just got the message two days ago and have found what I believe to be the truth. The marshal was with me when it was delivered, so I had to share, especially now, all things considered.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  John opens his vest and shows the major his new badge. “It’s because the marshal is my new boss. Long story short, I’m a federal deputy.” He closes his vest back up and sighs. “I checked into it and found they’d lied, for a good reason.” He looks at Josh. “The major, here, found evidence that Sheriff Lyttle, Marshal Walters, and Judge Logan were involved in the murder of Major Arbuckle.”

  Josh’s eyes go wide and he whistles low as he grasps the implications of the revelation. “No wonder you didn’t wanna tell me about it before.”

  John nods and looks at Richards. “After talking to those involved, I found out they had more than enough reason to kill that pig you call a major.”

  Richards shakes his head and looks at John through narrowed eyes. “If it was a legal problem, they should have brought it up to me and I could have called a court’s martial for the charges.”

  John shakes his head. “No. A court martial would have acquitted him. He was found to have taken a young Cheyenne woman prisoner and was using her as his personal pleasure slave.”

  Richards eyes widen in surprise. “Even though he was so vocal against them?” He shakes his head. “That’s just too difficult to believe.”

  John nods, confirming the statement. “Believe it. He didn’t consider Indians as human, so he thought he could do whatever he wanted to with one and not face any consequences.”

  Richards leans back in his office chair and takes a slow, deep breath. After several moments of consideration, he nods. “I see why you wouldn’t trust a court’s martial. You could have sent a message, telling me your findings, you know. What’s the real reason you’re here?”

  John grins tightly. “Actually, we’re on the trail of a killer. We’re gonna be going through the lands claimed by this fort.”

  Richards nods, as if that was expected. “Who ya after?”

  “Richard Buchanan and his gang. They robbed a bank in Norman and committed several murders about a week ago.” John shakes his head in disbelief. “He’s also named in the murder of a U.S. Marshal.”

  Richards looks off into the distance for a few moments and asks, “Where you headed to from here?”

  John sits up in his chair, now more alert than before. “Out close to Fort Cobb.”

  Richards grabs a blank piece of paper, scribbles on it and hands it over. “Here’s a writ ordering a troop to escort you through our lands. It’s not much, but it’ll help speed you on your way.”

  John takes the page and nods. “Thanks. You have no idea how much this means to us.”

  Richards sighs and folds his hands on the desk in front of him. “I have two full troops of cavalry that are just getting lazy around here. The exercise will do them a world of good.”

  John chuckles. “Then both our purposes have been served.” He rises and shakes the major’s hand. “Until next time, sir.”

  Joey and Josh rise from their seats and head for the door.

  John turns to Richards and says, “Thanks for trusting me to look into this. It means more to me than you may ever know.”

  Richards smiles. “Thank you. I knew you were trustworthy enough to look into it for me. Considering the tensions between the civilian government and the Army, you are the natural bridge.” He shakes his head. “Either way, happy hunting.”

  John waves and heads outside, toward the posse waiting on him to help lead them.

  THE INCLUSION OF THE dozen cavalry troopers made the trip feel more like an invasion of foreign territory than John would have liked, but he has to admit, if even only to himself, he welcomes the additional security.

  Their having to stay at a slow canter due to David’s insistence they not push Sean too far too fast is enough to make John grind his teeth in frustration. So much so, they ache constantly now.

  The trip from the fort proper to the west side of the lands assigned to it normally only takes a few hours. This time, the trip lasts for a full two days.

  Before too long, John began to regret the decision to bring the injured young Irishman along for the ride, after all.

  At the end of the second day, the lieutenant, a certain Lieutenant Cox, informs the marshals that the troop will be heading back to their home base just after reveille and breakfast.

  John agrees to their being sent on the way, thanks the men for their patience and of course, their assistance as well.

  That night, several hours after everyone hits the sack, the camp is awakened by Sean screaming constantly and rhythmically.

  Chapter 25

  John shared a tent with the young Irishman and when Sean started screaming, he rolled from his bedroll, with his pistol drawn, expecting to see the young man being brutally murdered.

  Much to his surprise and relief, Sean was just having nightmares.

  By the time John is coherent enough to know what’s going on, the outside of the closed off tent is surrounded by armed soldiers and the rest of the posse as well.

  John holsters his gun, undoes the front ties on the tent flaps and goes outside. He holds his hands up and shakes his head. “He’s alright. Looks like just a nig
htmare. It’s okay, everyone can go back to bed.”

  He watches as the group disperses, several troopers grumbling about the “stupid civilian.”

  Joey walks up and quietly asks, “What’s really going on?”

  John shakes his head. “I actually think it was just a nightmare. He just woke up screaming. I’ll talk to him and see if I can’t get him to quiet down enough to sleep. We may need David’s help in drugging him, if talking him down doesn’t help.”

  Joey nods and heads back to her tent.

  John turns and heads back into the tent. He sees Sean sitting up on his bedroll, just staring at him. He sits cross-legged on his pallet. “You feel like talkin’?”

  “Isnae any point. Ma Mam an’ Da are gone. I cannae keep from seein’em die. I couldnae do a t’hing but stand t’here an’ watch.”

  John shifts his position, making himself a little more comfortable. “I’ve lost loved ones in my life. I’ve been forced to watch as my family has been murdered. I’ve been held prostrate, made to watch the light fade from their eyes. I know how you feel.” He reaches out to his saddle bags and pulls out his Bible. “I’ve found more healing here than I ever thought possible.”

  Sean looks at him and shakes his head. “Wha’ kinda God would gimme so much joy, jes ta yankit way?”

  John studies the young Irishman’s face for a moment, before he nods. “I really DO understand the sentiment. I spent most of my life angry at God for letting all the pain I suffered through come into my life. Trust me, I’ve had my share. It took me asking His forgiveness to realize I wasn’t mad at Him, but myself.” He opens his hands and holds them open, acting like he’s trying to hold something in them. “Holding onto your anger and frustration is like trying to hold water in your hand without a cup. Your pride is your cup. Your anger fits so nicely in there, you forget you’re holding anything.”

  Sean looks incredulously at him. “Ya cannae know anyt’hin abou’ ma anger. I lit’relly lost ma whole family. Didnae ya tell ma ya were an orphan?”

  John nods. “I grew up as an orphan, but all those I counted as brothers and sisters died in front of me. No matter. You have to let go of your anger, or it will eat you alive from the inside out.”

  “I hefta see t’hat animal dead b’fore ma eyes. I cannae rest until I do.”

  John rises wordlessly and leaves the tent, then heads over to David and Rebekah’s. Thankfully, the young doctor is standing outside, as if his arrival were expected.

  David sees John approach and immediately reaches into his medical bag. By the time John reaches him, he has a shot-glass full of a liquid ready for the deputy. He hands it over with a simple, “Have him drink this. It’ll help him sleep.”

  John nods his thanks, takes the glass and heads back to the tent. Sean doesn’t give John any trouble and takes the drink. John watches his young friend snore for a few moments before he heads back over to David’s tent. As he approaches, he sees David heading back from the privy trench, lacing his pants up.

  John smiles at the innocuous sight. He holds up the shot-glass for David to see in the starlight and says, “Thanks. He’s out.”

  David steps up to him and nods his appreciation of returning the glass.

  John sighs and asks quietly, “Think we’re gonna have many more days like this?”

  “I can’t tell you. I can only hope and pray we don’t”

  “I’m just glad the troopers are leaving soon. I appreciate their help, but I’m afraid that at least a couple of them are about to kill Sean.”

  David’s eyes narrow. “Then you might need to make sure he’s okay. Good night, John.”

  “G’night.” John heads back to the tent and the welcoming darkness of sleep.

  Chapter 26

  As planned, the cavalry troop heads out the following morning. Sean is still passed out until late enough in the day, the three lawmen are able to get their gear stowed and the camp ready to leave.

  David and Rebekah spend much of the time together, cooking food for the trail. Food that will survive the rigors of the expected trip.

  Once Sean awakens, he starts moving around enough that David is able to clear him to ride at a full speed canter.

  Just after being medically cleared, John takes Sean to the side and teaches the young Irishman the basics of firearm safety. He walks his young friend through all the steps he knows of how to keep from playing with the gun and accidentally committing murder, how to keep from shooting oneself while drawing and cocking the gun.

  By the time the lessons are done and everything is ready to go, it’s mid-afternoon. The party moves out and rides at an easy enough pace, they only make it about ten miles by the time they decide to stop for the night.

  Once they stop for the day, David tells John he’s more confident in Sean’s progress than at first, that he feels comfortable allowing the group to a gallop the following day.

  As they make camp, Sean asks John for some whiskey. John finds the bottle they brought and gives the young Irishman a single glass. When Sean complains about the drink being too small, John replies, “We need to have it last us as long as it can. That will be enough to help you sleep, Sean.”

  Sean shakes his head. “I cannae sleep with tha sight o’ t’hem in ma mind.”

  John strokes his jaw. “I’ll talk to David. Go ahead and try to lay down. I’ll see what he recommends.”

  Sean huffs in annoyance but hands the glass to John and turns and heads for the tent anyway.

  John sighs and crosses the camp to David and Rebekah’s tent. The young doctor is sitting on a stool, grinding something up using a mortar and pestle as John approaches.

  Hearing the older man approach, David looks up and smiles. “I heard. Just a second. I want to have you add this to his supper. After a little bit, he’s probably going to get a bit more hungry, but that’s fine, go ahead and give him some more.” He pours the leaves into a cup and hands the cup to John. “If he complains about the taste, tell him it’s the medicine to help him sleep. He should be able to deal with the taste then.”

  John takes the cup and nods. “Why didn’t you give me these when I was having trouble sleeping?”

  “We happened to camp close to where some of these plants are growing. It’s a common enough plant in this part of the territory, just not out there by Norman or Denver. I’ve been able to harvest several plants worth of the leaves, so we should have enough to allow Sean to sleep most nights for the next several months.”

  “I see.” John waves his thanks and follows the doctor’s instructions to the letter, including telling Sean about the bad taste, ensuring he takes all of the medicine he can.

  John watches about an hour or so later, when the medicine seems to affect Sean strongly, his speech starts slur just a bit and the young man begins to act as if he’s drunk. Thankfully, the drunken reaction doesn’t last long, as the medicine makes him pass out and forces the Irishman to sleep soundly.

  The following morning, Sean is slow to wake and slower to get motivated to move about, but seems to have no further side effects.

  THAT AFTERNOON, THE posse pulls into Fort Cobb, tired and dusty from the road.

  They decide to stay the night in the hotel and saloon, David tells Sean it’s not a good idea to mix his medication with a lot of alcohol, so he should only have one drink and no more.

  After they check in, they all sit at the same table in the smoky saloon.

  The bartender is one of the largest men Jake has ever seen. The saloon is on the ground, otherwise Jake is sure the flooring would groan with each of the man’s uneven steps. He limps over to the table, slowly as if each step pains him. He waves around indicating the room, allowing them to see several lamps, several pool tables and over the bar, the stuffed head of a black bear frozen in a perpetual snarl. “Welcome to Jerome’s Haven. I’m Jerome, the owner. I see you folks have gotten rooms, so you will get a meal and a free drink as part of the deal. What can I get y’all?”

  After everyone
else orders, Joey clears her throat and says, “We would also like some information if you’re able to talk for a bit.”

  The large man stops for a moment, considers, then nods. “I’ll take care of this first and we can chat.”

  The supper was plentiful if, in Jake’s mind, a little heavy on the onion. It seems to be nowhere as good as Laura’s cooking, but is of good enough quality, he finishes his plate. Thinking of the sweet Irish woman is enough to make Jake’s thoughts turn dark. He fights the sudden urge to start demanding answers from everyone close by, at least, he pushes to allow Joey to make the inquiries herself, in her own time.

  David has Sean add the ground up leaves to his soup, at which the young man makes a face at the taste, but finishes his bowl anyway. Jerome looks at David, who replies simply, “Medicine to make him sleep.”

  Jerome nods wordlessly and pulls up a chair from another table, to sit next to Joey. “So, you said you had some questions for me?”

  Joey nods, finishes her bite and says, “We’re U.S. Marshals.”

  Before she can say any more, Jerome slaps the table and demands, “Why didn’t you tell me that before? I’ve been waiting for five days for you to get off your duff and get out here!” He turns and yells at the back, “Mandy! Girl! Get out here! Law’s done shown up!”

  Joey looks at John uncertainly, then Jake, then back at Jerome. “I’m not sure why you say that, but we’re on the trail of a man.”

  Jerome turns to look at her incredulously and asks, “You mean you’re not here because of the letter I sent to Oklahoma Station?”

  Joey shakes her head.

  Jerome huffs and crosses his arms. “Then why are you here?” he demands.

  Jake asks quietly, “What letter?”

  “About a bank robbery and several murders.”

  All the lawmen look at each other. Finally, John says, “We might be here about that, after all. You have any information about the attacker, or attackers?”