The Marshal of Denver

by Judge Rodriguez

  After he is done violently expelling all he has recently eaten, he suddenly feels ravenous. He cleans himself up, using some leaves and goes to find the closest cook fire.

  “I need food. It doesn’t necessarily need to be hot,” he tells the cook as he approaches.

  The corporal takes one look at him, turns, picks up a bowl of stew and hands it to him.

  “Thanks,” John replies, taking the proffered bowl and begins stuffing the pieces of meat and vegetables into his mouth. He breathes out some of the heat of the food and quickly continues shoveling the food in.

  It takes only a few moments to empty the bowl, which John promptly hands back. “Thanks again,” John says and goes happily on his way.

  John makes his way back to his tent. He doesn’t understand this. Always before, when he remembered the execution, it filled him with a sense of satisfaction, of pleasure. Now? Is remembering that series of events actually making him feel sick?

  He sits on his cot and, out of habit, turns his boots over, knocking the heels together. A fiddle-back spider falls out, then skitters across the ground.

  John explosively releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. This is the second time he has had a close call with one of these little nightmares recently. He sighs, shakes his head and taps the heels of his boots together again. He breathes a sigh of relief as nothing else comes out.

  He looks out the tent flap and sees the rising sun. What a wonderful way to start the day. He gets up, gathers his gear and heads back into town.

  He checks the marshal’s office. The troopers are still there and, most importantly still alive. As he enters the office, they look up from their card game and wave to him. He checks the prisoners, all but one of which is passed out and sprawled out in some fashion or another inside the cramped cell.

  Having satisfied his curiosity, John heads over to the hotel that seems to have become a headquarters for the legal proceedings in town.

  No one is at the registration desk, so John heads directly into the dining room. He sees Lt. Guthrie sitting at a table talking quietly with Lyttle.

  Lyttle looks up as John enters the room and smiles. “Morning. How did you sleep?”

  “It was a long night. What did I miss?”

  “Nothing, really. That is other than we sent Sarah to go be with her mother and have Heart-of-Falcon come out here to testify. I expect it will be this afternoon before she arrives.” Lyttle’s face takes a serious cast. “After this mess has been cleared up, I will want you to go back to Norman with me to testify. That is, saying we don’t find you at fault in all these deaths after all.” He shakes his head. “I don’t doubt that we will. So far, the testimony given by everyone seems to be corroborating your story exactly.”

  John nods, having expected this.

  “We will need to have you stay around town, though. We’re going to continue taking the testimony of the other witnesses. We will need to have you clear out of here, before we call the next one in.”

  John sighs and nods. This too, was expected. Annoying, but expected. So the only question he has now, is what to do with himself?

  He goes back to the foyer of the hotel and neatly sidesteps an instant before almost colliding with Rebekah. “Mornin’, Ma’am,” he says with a broad smile, tipping his hat to her.

  Her hand flies to her mouth to stifle a scream of surprise. “Oh! My goodness, John! You startled me!” Her face flushes and she looks to the dining room. “Would you like to join me for some coffee?”

  “I have been banished from there,” he replies, pointing towards the men sitting at the table. “I would love to share a cup and have a conversation, just somewhere else.”

  She nods and says, “I was about to go wake David. I’m sure he will enjoy the company. It would be better for us to have a chaperon, anyway. That will help keep down the snickering behind hands and wagging tongues.”

  John is surprised at her caution. He has never considered how a situation looks in the eyes of others like that. Her astuteness makes him think she may be a bit more concerned with appearances than he would like. However, he nods an acknowledgment and asks, “Would you like help carrying something over there?”

  “I would love some help, actually. Managing the doors with a tray of a coffee service is difficult at best,” she replies with a note of gratitude in her voice.

  She leads him through the dining area, into the kitchen, where she busily makes ready the coffee. John looks around the kitchen, noting it is full of cooking equipment, but it is not cluttered. He is impressed with how well organized this place truly is.

  “Here you go,” she says handing him the tray with a full coffee service on it.

  He is a bit shocked to see that there is a container of heavy cream.

  “Please be careful, it is a bit awkward after all,” she admonishes a moment later, noticing he is quickly following her.

  John nods and follows after her as she bustles out the back door. They move around the building and then cross the street to where the Lion Law office sign is. They go down the alleyway between the law office and the livery, toward the door with a simple sign above it saying, “Doctor”.

  Quietly and quickly, she pulls a key out from under the edge of her bodice and unlocks the door. They go through the front room to a room labeled, “Exam 2”.

  John is not surprised when he sees her open the door to the examination room, seeing David laying on his back on the exam table sitting in the center of the room.

  Rebekah walks up to the lightly snoring doctor, touches his shoulder gentle and says, “Wake up sweetheart. I’ve brought coffee.”

  John sets the coffee service down on a table sitting next to a chair close to the examination table.

  David snorts awake and looks around the room. His eyes are unfocused and his gaze settles on John. In Cherokee, he says, “Grandfather?”

  John is taken aback at hearing the native tongue be spoken after so long. In halting Cherokee, he replies, “No. It is your friend, John. You’re still half asleep.”

  Rebekah looks at the two of them, mirth sparkling in her eyes. “I didn’t know you could speak the savage tongue, John.” A smile tugs at her lips. “David has been teaching it to me, since he says his family speaks it almost exclusively.”

  “Oh? Do they now? I will have to remember that then,” John replies, suddenly uncomfortable at the intimacy of the situation. This has gone from visiting with a couple of friends, to being intimated to about some of the details in this young couples’ relationship.

  David blinks and looks around again. “Huh?” His gaze lands on Rebekah. “Hello, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure of your beauty this early in such a fine morning?” He smirks and asks archly, “That is, other than to see how I look while I’m sleeping?”

  Rebekah blushes and clears her throat. “So, I thought you would enjoy having a conversation with John. It seems like you two have a lot more in common than you may know.”

  David looks at John. “It’s good to see you again, though the last time I saw you was what, last night?” He looks more closely at the older man’s face. “Are you okay? You are looking pretty rough this morning.”

  John nods slowly, formulating his words. “It is a long story. I’m not sure I care to repeat it all. Have you finished your testimony to the tribunal about yesterday?”

  “Yeah. I was just finishing up when your man came to get me to tend to the wounded. So, really, what’s going on?”

  John seats himself in a chair and makes himself comfortable as Rebekah pours cups of coffee and hands one to John before taking one to David as well.

  She nudges David, who sits up and makes room for her on the exam table. Wordlessly, they grasp each other’s hand, giving John their undivided attention.

  John pours the cup of coffee down his throat in one long swig. “Now mind you, this goes back to the War for Southern Independence.” He then spends the next hour explaining what happened between himself and Wilkinso
n during the war. He finishes off by explaining how his dream ended this morning with such a violently explosive reaction. He explains how this morning’s reaction is completely new to him.

  David sits there a moment, thoughtful. “You said you pretty much woke up immediately feeling this way, and once you’d expelled everything, you started feeling okay?”

  “Yup.”

  “Sounds to me like hate has been festering in you these many years. Your body decided to kick out the poison of hatred in as violent a way as possible. You may be done relishing in the pain of others, now. We will have to see.” He smiles and looks at Rebekah. “I’m glad you’re here to hear this from him as well. Sometimes, it takes more than one person knowing a thing to make it truth as well.”

  John can hardly believe the young doctor is as wise as he seems to be. This coming from a Christian? This is something one would not expect to hear coming from someone that believes in an invisible being that is controlling the universe and all those in it.

  John pours himself another cup of coffee and sips at it, giving himself time to think. He is badly shaken by the young doctor’s insight. He doesn’t fully believe it, but neither does he entirely disbelieve it.

  David and Rebekah look at each other uncertainly. David gets off the table and straightens his clothing. “Well, nothing can be done about it right now. I need to check on the men in camp. Since you can’t be in the hotel, would you mind helping me?”

  John looks up from his cup, at his friend a moment. “Sure. Not like I have anything else to do.” He pours the rest of his coffee down his throat, sets the cup on to the tray and stands. “Thank you, Miss Rebekah, for the coffee.”

  Rebekah starts cleaning up the coffee service as the two men leave. She looks back at John and smiles, “You’re welcome. You boys stay out of trouble over there.”

  Chapter 37

  John spends the next three hours working as David’s nurse. He enjoys the time spent with his witty young friend. The time passes quickly. Before he realizes it, it is getting close to high noon and John is beginning to feel ravenous. He doesn’t mention food until after the final patient. Thankfully, the camp isn’t but a half mile from town. “Think Miss Rebekah would be willing to give us some grub, if we ask real nice?” John asks archly.

  “Really? I think she’ll kill us if we don’t go to her for dinner. She prides herself on her cooking. Rightfully so, too.” David smirks.

  “Then I think we need to get a move on before we disappoint your lovely lady,” John says with a broad smile. John hears a loud growl come from David’s stomach.

  David looks down at his stomach before looking back at John. “You know what? I was just thinking the same thing.”

  John laughs lightly.

  An hour and a half later, both men are lounging in chairs in the kitchen of the hotel, with full stomachs, enjoying a tankard of beer each.

  Even though John’s enjoying the companionship, it’s still hard to shake off the feeling that he’s missing something. He can’t remember when the last time was that he literally had nothing to do. It is an interesting sensation, not having anything hang over his head.

  David leans back into his chair and sighs deeply. As if reading John’s mind, he says, “It’s hard waiting. When you’re used to always having something to do, not doing anything is enough to make one go stir-crazy, isn’t it?”

  John looks at David sharply, which elicits a chuckle from the doctor.

  “Your body language is screaming discontent at staying still. It’s quite obvious.” David smiles broadly. “My grumpa is the same way. Even after being injured in the war, he still refuses to sit still for more than a meal. Always talking about stuff needing to be done. My ma calls it having a case of the fidgets. She says I get that from my dad.”

  “You didn’t know your father?” John asks, curious at that response.

  “No. My birth father was killed at the beginning of the war. I was raised by my ma and grampa. My step-father was banished when I was about fifteen. He got drunk one day and beat me and ma to within an inch of our lives. My grumpa, being the medicine man he is, had the power to banish him from the tribe. Last I’d heard, he was living out west somewhere.”

  “So, that’s the reason you became a doctor, then? Your grandfather was a medicine man?”

  “Is. He still leads the Clan of the Howling Wolf out by Fort Supply,” David replies in an offhand manner.

  John catches a hint of fear from the tone of his response. “Does he approve of your leaving the tribe to become a doctor with the white man?”

  “Not entirely. He’d heard some stories about the white man’s medicine and its advances. He just wanted me to stay with the tribe and bring the medicine with me. I was planning on going back to them, when I met Rebekah. Her parents own a hotel down in Dallas. She was sixteen at the time. I knew I was in trouble when I kept finding excuses to hang around town, just so I could see her. I finally sent a letter to ma and grampa telling them I wasn’t returning until Miss Rebekah and I got married.”

  “Wow. That’s a whole new level of dedication. How long ago was that?”

  “Two years. When she turned eighteen, three months ago, her parents allowed her to come up here and start her own hotel.”

  “I don’t know what to say. That is a level of determination in someone I’ve never seen before. Especially in someone so young.”

  “I’m just following what God has told me is the right thing to do.” David shrugs. “I know you don’t believe in him, but he believes in you. I think he has a lot more in store for you than you think.”

  “You’re right. I don’t believe in him. And I would thank you not to mention it again.”

  David nods and smiles. “I won’t. Not until you ask me to. I think it’s going to be soon where you start asking questions about matters of faith, though.”

  “So, why haven’t you two gotten hitched yet?” John looks at David seriously.

  “Honestly, I ‘m making sure the hotel runs well enough it won’t be too much the distraction for when we wed. I doubt it will be that much longer. Plus, I want to build us a house, first.” David shrugs once again.

  “Well, that makes sense. How much longer do you think they will be taking statements?” John stares off into space.

  “Dunno. Don’t expect it will be more than a day or two longer, though.”

  “I think I will go check on my horse at the livery. Otherwise, I may go more crazy just sitting around doing nothing.”

  “I think I’ll go check on things in there.” David points toward the dining room of the hotel.

  John nods as he stands and leaves through the hotel’s back door once again.

  Four hours later, John is standing next to Red-Feather, in front of the collected officers, once again gathered in the dining room of the hotel.

  Capt. Richardson looks sternly at John as he bangs the butt of his pistol against the table imitating a gavel. “This hearing is called to order to address the numerous deaths as of late in this precinct. We have taken testimony of all witnesses involved and are ready to pronounce judgment. All rise.”

  All the officers rise to stand at attention. Lyttle stands and holds a piece of paper at chest height. “In the matter of the death of seven individuals, we agree under one condition to find you not at fault. That condition will be mentioned in a moment. In the matter of the charges against Land Agent Jacobson, this court has found that there is cause for dispute. We will be investigating further.”

  There is a sinking feeling in the pit of John’s stomach. “What’s the one condition?”

  “That you accept the position of Town Marshal,” replies Capt. Richardson. This will alter the claims from being possible manslaughter to acceptable losses in the carriage of justice. If you choose to accept the position of Marshal, we will also depend on you to gather enough evidence to level charges against Land Agent Jacobson as well.”

  John is stunned. He expected to not be found at fault, but
to be forced to become the Town Marshal? His acquittal is contingent on becoming a law-man? They are cutting his feet out from under him. John looks at the captain, who is wearing a smug smirk. That jerk. He looks so happy at being able to out-maneuver me. In a monotone voice he replies, “So, I take it if I don’t accept the badge, I will be found at fault and will have to go on trial?”

  Capt. Richardson clears his throat meaningfully. “That is correct. If you accept the badge, you will receive the standard pay of ten dollars a month, plus room and board. You will also receive pay to maintain the jail of an additional five dollars a month.”

  “Will I be able to choose my own deputy?” John asks astutely.

  “Yes,” replies Lyttle. “But your deputy’s pay will have to come out of yours. We don’t have an unlimited amount of resources after all.”

  “Fine. Then I will accept the badge. Can we have a couple of badges made up for us?”

  Lyttle nods. “I will get them commissioned once I return to Norman.” His face takes on a look of curiosity. “Who will you choose as your deputy?”

  “I’ll have to ask him first, to make sure he accepts.” John pointedly avoids looking at Red-Feather.

  The look Red-Feather directs toward John however, speaks volumes.

  “We will be leaving first thing tomorrow morning to take those prisoners to Norman. You will need to come with us, to provide testimony as a duly sworn peace officer. Speaking of which.” He picks up a Bible from the table and says, “Raise your right hand and place your left on this Bible.”

  John looks with distaste at the book. Of all the oaths he has sworn, this is the first time he has had to do it on a Bible. He does as instructed, however.

  “Now, repeat after me. ‘I do solemnly swear to fulfill the duties of the office of Town Marshal to the best of my ability and to enforce the ordinances put forth by town, territory, and federal government. So help me God.”