Deputy at Large

by Judge Rodriguez

  John sighs and asks sharply, “Do you promise? Or do I have to find some way of restraining you until we get back to Norman?”

  Sean huffs, then looks back at John. Seeing that the deputy is serious, he looks away once more. “Fine. I wouldnae be able ta con’vince ya o’terwise, so why even bot’her?”

  John smiles. “Just remember, I’m older and much more stubborn than you are, by far.”

  Sean sighs and lays down, obviously done with the conversation.

  John gets up and heads back outside. Of all the times to have to deal with this kind of a problem, this is the most troublesome.

  AFTER HAVING SPENT a couple more hours checking the camp over, everyone checked in for the night.

  Jake volunteered to stay in the tent with Sean after John explained the young man’s suicidal leanings. Apparently, he didn’t trust Sean not to try and off himself at the earliest opportunity.

  Jake was extremely glad he volunteered. When he got into the tent, Sean was already fast asleep and slept through the night.

  That morning, David explained Richard’s body was decomposing at a faster rate than expected and they needed to bury him as quickly as possible. His father said they needed to take the body to Fort Supply, otherwise, no one would believe them that their mission was a success, even if an unexpected one.

  Joey agreed and, so they decided to hit the road as soon as they could. Having traveled with each other for a while now, they each understand what was expected of them. Everyone in the party helped identify everything they could find in the camp that would be useful on the trail.

  While Jake was taking care of things expected of him, his mind kept wandering to his dreams the night before. Much like now. He’s riding with only the most minimal part of his consciousness keeping him aware of the surroundings. His dreams last night were . . . distressing. Ever since he got to Denver and saw the beauty Heart-of-Falcon had become, he’s been suffering the dreams of desire. He knows Red Feather and Heart-of-Falcon have been married for the better part of twenty years and that to even entertain such thoughts is a sin. He knows it’s wrong to even allow himself to have those dreams, but, in the vaults of his mind, he still has to be honest enough with himself that, it’s what he wants. SHE is who he wants.

  He’d thought himself rid of those dreams and desires more than a decade ago, but this? He can’t help himself. He’s prayed about it, for strength to deny himself, but these stupid dreams keep coming back.

  He shakes his head and thumps it with the heel of his hand. He looks around to see if anyone noticed the move and sees John look at him questioningly. Jake shakes his head and waves the question away. Of all the people that know Jake, John is the one that can most accurately read Jake’s thoughts.

  Isn’t it enough that he’s been questioning his sanity, his faith and his desire the entire time they’ve been on the trail? Getting tired of the last several hours-worth of pondering, Jake looks around at the landscape.

  He’s spent the better part of the last fifteen years at Fort Reno. Before that, though, he stayed out here at Fort Supply.

  The lands surrounding the fort are essentially a barren wasteland. Considering the nature of Fort Supply, being essentially what its name is, it’s hard to imagine it being where it is.

  As the party passes the last of the bodies of the escaped horses from Richard’s gang, Jake’s surprised that Richard’s camp was as close as it was to the fort. Literally within a day’s ride. Had the horses started less than half an hour earlier, they may have made it to the fort. He shakes his head, sad at the thought of the last frantic hours of the horses’ lives.

  As the party rides in to the fort’s lands, Jake is struck by how different things are from the last time he was here.

  The fort seems almost manicured. This is almost a desert, but the lands directly surrounding the fort seem to be almost lush. The amount of energy that’s been put into keeping the fort grounds up is staggering. Jake can’t imagine what kind of a commander would not only be willing, but would force his troops into such menial labor.

  The fort itself is built as a standard stockade style fort. It has a log palisade with guard towers and sentries patrolling the walls. Armed sentries. This is a supply fort.

  Jake becomes immediately alert. This is too much security for a simple supply fort. There’s definitely something wrong here. He turns in his saddle and looks at John.

  John nods in agreement and straightens in the saddle. He turns to look at David and Rebekah, who are chatting quietly with each other.

  Jake feels a sense of longing, seeing the young couple together. His mind wanders on its own accord back to his dreams.

  Hearing the sentries call out at their arrival makes Jake snap to. Someone doesn’t spend the better part of thirty years as a soldier without certain instinctive reactions, after all.

  Joey, from her position at point, calls out, “U.S. Marshals! We need to speak to the commanding officer of this fort!”

  One of the sentries motions for the gates to be opened. He looks down at the approaching party. “I’ll have someone show you to the captain’s quarters. Welcome to Fort Supply, Marshals.”

  John moves his horse forward and asks, “Is the captain the commander of the fort?”

  The sentry shakes his head. “No. He’s the one that manages the fort. The captain gives the commands, the major makes the policy.”

  Joey shakes her head. “No. I’m sorry, that is not acceptable. We need to see the fort commander.”

  The sentry sighs and nods. “I understand. Please forgive me when I say you will regret that decision. However, I will have you escorted to the major.”

  Joey tips her hat in thanks and rides on through the gate. As the party enters the courtyard and begins dismounting, they are approached by a young lieutenant.

  He steps up to Joey and salutes smartly. “I am Lt. Grogan. I didn’t catch your name, Marshal?”

  “Blackwolf. Can you have someone watch the horse with the body? We need to make sure it’s not disturbed, until we get done.”

  Grogan nods and yells out, “Sgt. White!”

  A middle-aged, grizzled sergeant walks over and has a quiet conversation with the young officer. After a couple of moments, the sergeant nods and goes to stand by the horse with Richard’s body.

  Joey tips her hat in thanks and leads the group into following the young lieutenant to the commander’s quarters on the other side of the fort.

  They enter a nondescript building with windows on several sides. The foyer reminds Jake of a home more than a commander’s office. The lieutenant has the group turn to the right and enter a book-lined library.

  Inside the library, the group turns to the left and are announced to the post commander, Major Lonargan.

  Chapter 37

  John stares at the Major, unable to believe he’s still alive. It’s been the better part of fifteen years that he’s seen the intractable officer, ever since the incident with his daughter’s fiancé.

  He looks over at his blood-brother. Uh oh.

  The major is peremptorily holding up one finger, while he is writing a note. He takes a moment to finish, then looks up. His face drains of blood. “Well. If it isnae tha brot’hers Grimm. Have ya come back from tha grave, sergeant, or did we jus’ bury tha wrong man?”

  Josh shakes his head. “There was a lot of confusion about that. Where’s your family? I would like to pay my respects to your wife and daughter.”

  Lonargan’s eyes narrow. “Ya cannae say a t’hing ta ma wife, and ma daughter’s livin wit’ her family down at Fort Sill. If ya mention t’hem again, I’ll run ya t’hrough fer bein’ tha knave I know ya ta be.”

  Josh shakes his head. “I guess you don’t understand that I happen to be a deputy U.S. Marshal. You might want to try and keep things civil after all. Otherwise you might not like how things turn out.”

  “Are ya t’hreatenin’ me?” Lonargan’s voice is shrill as he slams down his palm on the top of his desk. �
��I dare ya ta say somet’hin’ like t’hat again!”

  Joey shakes her head and says sharply, “Gentlemen! Please compose yourselves! We have a job to do here. Once it’s done, we’ll be gone!”

  Lonargan’s eyes narrow in hatred as he looks at Josh. “Know t’hat I’ll make sure ta keep an eye on ya.” He turns to look at Joey. “Wha’ happens ta make ya darken ma door, Marshal?”

  “Several things. First, have you found you’re missing about a hundred and fifty pounds of black powder in ten pound casks?”

  Lonargan nods. “We’ve been lookin’ fer ‘em fer a few weeks, why?”

  “You don’t need to look anymore. We know exactly where they are. Next, we need positive identification of a body that needs to be buried. The identification needs to come from someone of military or civilian authority.”

  “Ya mean ya expect ma ta bury a body fer ya an’ swear to who it ‘tis?” Joey nods. “T’hen wha’s in it fer ma or t’his post?”

  “It’s your duty to work with the marshal’s service to provide these services.”

  “How DARE ya tell ma what ‘tis ma duty!” Lonargan slams his palm down again. “I t’hink ya all need ta jes leave t’his post an’ do it now.”

  Joey nods. “Alright, I’ll report to the civilian authorities you’re not willing to help us in our mission. Good day.” She turns and steps around the rest of the party.

  Lonargan sighs in irritation. “Wait. All ya wan’ is a grave plot an’ identification?”

  Joey stops, turns and looks at him over her shoulder. “Of course, that’s all I asked for, isn’t it?”

  Lonargan folds his hands in front of him on the desk. “If I kin give ya wha’ ya wan’, are ya goan’ tell ma where tha powder is?” Joey nods. “Ya promise ta get yer posse outta here, t’hen?” Again, a nod from Joey. Lonargan sighs. “Fine, let us head out t’here t’hen, so I kin be well rit o’ tha whole lot o’ ya.” He rises and limps around the desk.

  John looks at the major’s foot and sees his leg ends in a single peg. John points at it and grins. “What happened? Eithne shoot your foot off?”

  Lonargan stops and stares at him. “I dunnae care who ya are. If ya open yer trap once more, I’ll put a bullet init.”

  John stands there shocked for a moment, then starts laughing uproariously.

  Lonargan stands there a minute longer, then, muttering to himself, stomps away.

  Josh looks at his blood-brother a moment and smiles. “I think you hit a sensitive nerve.”

  John nods. “I think she DID shoot it off! Well, good for her!”

  Joey gives her grinning deputies a withering scowl and follows after the major.

  Both men share an identical look of amusement, then burst into laughter and follow their young niece.

  Out in the courtyard, Joey cuts the rope binding Richard’s body over the saddle and allows it to fall to the ground with a thud.

  Lonargan takes one look at its face and then rounds on Joey. “Jes wha’ ‘tis tha meanin’ o’ t’his? Why is t’his man dead?”

  Joey gives Lonargan a look and quickly assesses him. “Do you know who this man is?” She puts her hands on her hips.

  John surreptitiously allows his hand to rest on his gun.

  Lonargan nods. “Of course I kn’ow who he is. Name’s Richard. We use ‘im as injun scout oncet in while, he’s partic’ly useful in bringin’ tha injuns in.”

  Joey removes the wanted poster from inside her vest. “Here’s the warrant to bring him in, Dead or Alive. If you wouldn’t mind signing a sworn statement he’s buried here, we can be on our way.”

  Lonargan snatches the poster out of her hand and reads it silently, shaking his head. “I cannae b’lieve it. We never had any complaints abou him in tha field. Yer sure ‘tis tha same man?”

  John steps forward. “Absolutely. He’s been terrorizing people down in Norman for more than a year now.” He looks at his son. “Guess that explains how he was able to disappear like he was so often.”

  David nods, then looks at the major. “Have you been receiving any reports lately about someone attacking the children of the Cherokee?”

  Lonargan shakes his head. “T’here isnae anyone ‘twould report it. T’hose mon’grels cannae even speak a human tongue, so ‘tis no s’prise.”

  John steps over to Joey and touches her arm. Through her clothing, John is able to feel her trembling in suppressed rage. Quietly, he says, “Easy. He’s an idiot. Maybe we should ask Strong Bear. I get the feeling we’ll be able to manage getting more info than this idiot might ever give us.”

  She murmurs, “Explains why they trust whites even less than normal, doesn’t it?”

  John nods. He looks at Lonargan. “So, are you willing to sign a statement to verify that who it is?”

  The major’s eyes narrow in hatred. “I kin see yer in’trested in gettin’ tha bounty, sergeant. Wha’ m’atter does it make t’hat ya are standin’ ‘round a bit longer?”

  John looks around at the collected group, then back at the major. “Actually, it’s deputy and because I don’t know which one stinks more, the dead body, or you. I don’t know about everyone else, but I want out of your presence. Either give us what we ask, or we camp here until you do.”

  A captain walks up. “Major, of your courtesy, we need your signature on some paperwork, please.”

  The look the major gives his captain would make any man quail. The captain, however, returns the look with one of stoic indifference.

  Lonargan growls and moves to go back to his library office. The captain turns to look back at the group, slowly winks, then rushes off after his commander.

  To cover his bark of laughter, John starts coughing.

  Joey looks at him and asks, “Just what was all that about?”

  Making sure the major is not in range to be able to hear, John quietly says, “The captain’s going to make sure we’re getting what we asked for.” Joey looks at him, her face a big question mark. “Trust me, we should have that map for the powder handy.”

  She sighs and shakes her head. She goes over to Shadow, pulls out a piece of paper and pencil from her saddle bags. She props the page against her saddle and quickly sketches out a map of where the booby-trap lies in wait.

  John goes over to Sean, who is just standing there, staring at the ground. “You think you gonna be glad to get back home?”

  Sean shakes his head. “I cannae do a t’hing t’here. Ma mam n’ da are soakt inta ev’ry boart.”

  John sighs. “I was afraid you were gonna say that.” He looks at the captain, returning with a piece of paper in hand. Quietly, John says to the young Irishman, “I pray you’re able to find forgiveness for doing what was needed.” He claps the young man on the shoulder and goes over to where the captain is heading.

  When John returns, Josh points over toward where Joey is approaching with the map. Quietly, he says, “Cherokee did right by that one, let me tell you.”

  John smiles. “Trust me, I know. We’ve worked together before. I’m gonna be glad to get back to Denver and have him healthy and hale.”

  Josh sighs. “Just wish I was able to keep that attack from happening.”

  John nods. “I know, but without that happening, we wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

  Josh shakes his head. “He DOES work in mysterious, if unexpected ways.” He looks at the approaching captain. “Can I help you, sir?”

  The young captain nods and hands the signed statement to him and says, “Sorry about that. He has his good days and his bad. He may be commanding here, but tends to command little to no respect from the troops. Since he had a fit a couple of years ago, he’s not been the same man.”

  John is stunned. “He used to be our commanding officer, back during the Red River War. This is much like he was back then. Has he been somehow different?”

  The captain nods. “After the incident where he lost his foot, he calmed down quite a bit. I was just getting out here.” He looks at the sky a moment. “Oh
, that was about ten years ago or so. My how time flies.” He looks at John. “Everything was fine until he had his fit about two years ago now, or so.” He motions around, indicating the grounds. “Just after his first fit, he started making changes around here. After each one, all of this got progressively worse.” He lowers his arms and shakes his head in dismay. “I manage things around here, most of the time. The men generally don’t see or deal with him directly.”

  John looks at the young captain with a sense of sadness. “He and I never really got on together, but I don’t wish harm on the man. I just never really liked to deal with him. Do you have a post surgeon here?”

  The man nods, though hesitantly. “He says he doesn’t know what’s causing it, but doesn’t dare declare the major unfit for duty for fear of not knowing who’ll replace him. God only knows, it’ll be someone horrible like Arbuckle.”

  John nods. “Don’t I know it. Every time we changed post commanders at Fort Sill, it was always a nightmare of politics and uncertainty.”

  The captain nods and takes the offered map from Joey. He glances at it a moment, looks up and back at the marshal. “Who taught you how to draw a map like this?”

  She looks at him curiously a moment then says simply, “My pa, why?”

  “Was your pa in the cavalry?”

  She shakes her head. “No, but he spent a lot of time down at Fort Reno. Why do you ask?”

  “This is the best map I’ve seen drawn by a civilian. Was your father a cartographer at Fort Reno?”

  She shakes her head. “Indian Scout, among other things.”

  “Ah. Well, thank you for the map. You said there were more than a dozen casks of black powder?”

  “Set up in a booby-trap. We made them inert, but considering their condition, we decided to leave them there. They were sweating nitro.”

  The captain whistles low. “I’ll make sure we send out some ammo specialists, then. Thank you for letting me know.”