The Marshal of Denver

by Judge Rodriguez

  John does so, only mildly choking on invoking the name of God. He hears what sounds to be a strangled cough, as if someone were choking down some laughter, come roughly from the area where David is standing. John sighs. I am going to have to do something with that boy someday.

  “To celebrate this auspicious occasion,” Capt. Richardson says while grabbing a bottle and pouring numerous shot-glasses. Each person in the room receives one. “A toast to a job well done and to the man to get it done in a timely manner!”

  Everyone but John raises their glass in salute saying, “Well done, John!” then downs their drink.

  The liquor sears John’s throat as it travels down. He hears several people in the room gasp at the burning liquid. He looks at Capt. Richardson who is gasping, then sighs in relief.

  The captain returns John’s gaze a moment, then winks. John smirks in return. Right. Time to get to work. “Gentlemen, if there is nothing else, I need to start working on getting affairs in order.” He leans over to Red-Feather and quietly says, “I will want to talk to you before you return to the ranch.”

  Red-Feather nods in response. The look on his face shows he knows exactly what the discussion will be about.

  David steps forward to John and says, “I will want to go with you to Norman. I need to stop by and we can talk about it later.”

  John puts his hat back on, turns to leave and sees Miss Rebekah standing in the doorway to the dining room. She is wearing an attractive plain brown dress. Her countenance is light by her broad smile. She curtsies to John and says, “Marshal,” in way of greeting.

  He tips his hat to her and replies with, “Ma’am.”

  She laughs lightly and wraps her arms around him in an almost crushing hug.

  John acts scandalized. “Madam. What do you think your beau will say?”

  She lets him go with a wink and replies, “I don’t care. I can hug whomever I wish.”

  John chuckles, moves the young woman aside, then goes to the door of the hotel. As he reaches the door, John hears his name, turns and sees Heart-Of-Falcon coming down the stairs.

  She walks up to him and says, “I see you accepted the job.”

  “I did. Did you have anything to do with it?” He motions her to follow him as he walks out the door to the go to his newly assigned office.

  “Red-Feather and I convinced the captain not to recall you to active duty, like he was trying to. I get the feeling he wants the area to stay under martial law for awhile. At least, that is, until the town is able to hold elections. With you as the marshal, you can help keep peace without being Army.” She looks down. “I don’t think he’s power hungry. I think he just wants to keep things quiet after he leaves.”

  “I don’t blame him. I wanna keep order, too. I just don’t wanna be the one to do it,” John replies sardonically.

  “I know. At least he didn’t ask my husband to do it. We have been separate too much lately.”

  John stops just outside the door of the marshal’s office and looks at her directly. “I was actually thinking of deputizing Red-Feather. I need someone to mind the shop while I go to Norman for a week or two.”

  Heart-Of-Falcon levels a withering gaze at John. “I know you don’t ask this lightly. Do you realize what you’re asking, though?”

  John looks at the beautiful Apache woman a moment and smiles, “I thought you two would enjoy being able to be in town for a couple of weeks. You know, sleep on a real bed for awhile.”

  “While that is nice, we still have a ranch to start and manage, you know,” she replies with a twinkle in her eye.

  “You also have patients to tend to. That doesn’t mean you and your husband can’t stay here in town, while I’m gone. I still need his help. He’s the only person in town I trust to know when to use a gun.”

  “What about Doc Bakker?”

  “He’s too much a pacifist. He balked at carrying a gun the other day.” John shakes his head. “I know I have to go to Norman to put in a sworn testimony. I don’t know how long I will have to be there. I don’t want all this work we’ve done to go to waste.”

  “You will have to ask my husband. I can’t say yes or no for him. You may need to convince him, but I don’t know. We will see.” She crosses her arms and walks back to the hotel muttering to herself in Apache.

  John shakes his head and enters the Marshal’s Office. He is greeted by the sight of the two corporals, playing cards. He smiles at the familiar scene. “Hello, gentlemen. How are things so far today?” he asks in a friendly tone.

  “Quiet as a tomb,” replies one of the soldiers, without looking up from the game.

  “Good. I hope you don’t mind me as I move around. I need to get an inventory of everything in the office and what we need to keep this place going,” John says, starting to bustle about the different places in the office.

  The soldier waves him on, once again, without looking up from the poker game.

  John takes a quick inventory of items in the office. One pencil, five sheets of paper, almost empty bottle of ink, quill, a poorly maintained revolver, half a box of shells for it, a .410 shotgun, one rickety desk, two chairs, and a pot bellied stove. I wonder where the necessities pail, water pail, and dishes have gone off to? Miss Rebekah probably took them away to clean them.

  He looks at the two soldiers as the one who has been responding cries out a curse at having lost that hand. John chuckles. “Ah, to be young again. Lose a lot?”

  The soldier shakes his head in disgust. “A month’s pay.” He rises from his chair. John hears numerous creaks and cracks emanating from the soldier’s body as he stretches. The soldier looks at John with a curious expression and asks, “So are we going to garrison this town permanently?”

  “No. Actually, I have just accepted the position of Town Marshal. You will be heading back to your garrison tomorrow morning. Your troop will be escorting us as we take these prisoners to the jail in Norman.”

  The soldier sighs in relief. “Good. I’m tired of cooling my heels here.”

  John nods his understanding. “Trust me. I know the feeling. If you boys wanna go back to the camp, I can handle things here.”

  “Mind if we confirm that first?”

  John shakes his head. “Not at all. I’m gonna check on the prisoners.” John peeks in on the prisoners and sees several asleep in the evening gloom. Two of them are speaking quietly to each other and another is just staring out the bars of the window. Satisfied all is as it should be, John turns back to the office.

  Five minutes later, the corporal returns, confirming what John had said. As they leave, John asks if the prisoners have been fed recently. The corporal answers, yes they had been, about two hours earlier.

  Once the two leave, John sits down at the desk and starts making out a list of needed materials for the jailhouse to be functional.

  He is just finishing up, when there is a terse knock on the door. He draws his gun, placing it on the desk, pointed towards the door, and yells, “Enter!”

  The door opens slowly and Red-Feather pokes his head in. John nods and uses his gun to wave his friend in. He holsters the pistol and looks at Red-Feather.

  Seeing the blank expression on his friends face, John asks, “Talk to Heart-of-Falcon yet?”

  Red-Feather nods and folds his arms across his chest.

  “I take it, you don’t don’t agree to become deputy, even temporarily then?”

  Red-Feather’s blank expression speaks volumes.

  John sighs. This is going to be one of those conversations. “You know, I wouldn’t ask this of you, if it weren’t completely necessary, or even if I saw some kind of recourse in asking, right?”

  Red-Feather shifts his stance a minor bit, taking the weight off one leg and putting it on the other.

  “It will be as short a time as I can make it. I promise I will get back as soon as I can. You know I wouldn’t ask this of you, if there were literally any other person I could trust the responsibility to, don’t you?”
>
  Red-Feather sighs and strokes his jaw, expression thoughtful. He considers it a few moments, sighs again, then nods in agreement.

  John breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay. Thank you for agreeing to do this. I will give you half my monthly pay, while you’re my deputy. While I am gone, you and Heart-of-Falcon can use my room at the hotel. Fair enough?”

  Red-Feather nods again, in assent.

  “We need to have someone stay here and watch the prisoners. I need to go tell Lyttle to swear you in as well. Can you hang around a few minutes for me to go get him?” John stands, preparing to leave.

  Red-Feather levels an even gaze at his friend, sighs, then seats himself in the chair John just vacated.

  Johns steps back over to the hotel. He is met at the door by David.

  “We need to talk. Before we leave tomorrow,” David says in a low, urgent voice.

  “Before we leave tomorrow? This is gonna be interesting. Can it wait a few minutes? I need to get Lyttle to swear in Red-Feather,” John replies quietly.

  “So he accepted the job, huh? What did it take to get him to agree?” David asks, his curiosity overcoming him.

  “The truth. He’s the only one I would trust to kill someone if the occasion demands it,” John replies, wryly.

  Initially, David’s face is shocked at that statement, then understanding lights it as he realizes the validity of the claim. Thoughtfully, he says in a halting voice, “I think I know what you mean.”

  “I really have to go. Come by the office in a few minutes, if you want.” John rushes into the hotel, just barely catching Lyttle as he heads upstairs to his room. “We need you to swear in a deputy really quick. We have a few things to do before leaving in the morning,” he says quickly to the lawman.

  Lyttle looks up the stairs longingly a moment, then sighs. “Right. Okay, let’s get this over with then.” He turns and starts back down the stairs. “So, who is going to be your deputy?”

  “Red-Feather. He’s a former scout for the army, so he knows most of the laws already.”

  “That Apache that’s been helping out lately? He’s a bit quiet, but I think he’s a good choice. You don’t want someone that is going to talk the prisoners to death after all.”

  “Right. I have him watching the prisoners right now. If you will follow me.” John turns and exits the hotel. When he goes through the door, he is joined by David, who walks alongside his friend. Lyttle follows briskly behind the pair.

  The three men enter the Marshal’s office, to see Red-Feather sitting at the desk, whittling a piece of wood using his belt-knife. As the door opens, he looks up, hand going to the gun at his side. He takes one look at the men, sighs, then stands.

  John moves over to stand by his friend and then beckons for Lyttle to come forward.

  Lyttle moves forward, producing the same Bible as before. He asks, “Do you agree to become the Deputy Marshal of this town?”

  Red-Feather nods.

  Lyttle proceeds to swear in the taciturn man. After the swearing in, Lyttle produces two tin six-star badges that say Deputy. “I always keep a couple of these on hand in case I need to deputize a posse. These are gonna work until we get a smith to make some honest-to-God badges for you, boys. We can do that in Norman, or even send off to Oklahoma Station for a couple of silver badges.”

  John and Red-Feather take their badges and pin them to the inside right-side of their vests, with only the pin showing.

  Chapter 38

  Lyttle smiles and says, “I’m glad we chose the right sort of men for this position.”

  Red-Feather snorts in derision.

  John smiles at the compliment. Sardonically, he says, “You don’t get to be old in the cavalry by being stupid.”

  Lyttle chuckles at the response and says, “I’ll be glad to work with someone who has a faster brain than trigger finger.”

  “Well, thank you,” John replies, then turns to David, who is standing to the side of Lyttle. “Now, to you. What do we need to discuss?”

  “I would prefer it be in private, if you don’t mind,” David replies glancing nervously at Red-Feather.

  John motions for David to follow him outside. Once they are around the building and far enough away their voices won’t carry inside the office, John looks at his friend closely. He asks in a concerned tone of voice, “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m worried about one of my patients in White. I think she might be in danger. From the sounds of it, she was claim jumped by Jacobson. On our way back from Norman, I would like to stop by White and check in on her. The last time I went by there, the family she is staying with wouldn’t let me see her. I think there might be trouble. I didn’t like the look of things, but she was too badly hurt to be moved. I would like to have someone who knows how to handle a gun close by when I next go by there. I would prefer to have a lawman handy, if you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah. I get your point. Question is, though, why did you want to talk to me about this in private? It’s not like this isn’t a reasonable request or anything.” John looks at his young friend again, once more noting the nervous expression on his face.

  “I don’t think Red-Feather will appreciate any side trips as it were. I thought you would be able to approach him about it better than I could.”

  “Oh. He’ll be alright. We’ll be gone for a week or so anyways, letting me buy some badly needed supplies for this place.” John jabs his thumb over his shoulder indicating the Marshal’s office. “So, a day or so longer won’t make a big difference.”

  “I just wanted to make sure I don’t do anything to irritate Red-Feather. He seems grouchy enough as it is.” David glances back to the Marshal’s office.

  “Oh, he’s not bad once you get to know him. He’s just quiet. He’s self-conscious about his Apache accent. I’ve known him for the better part of twenty years now, and have to say, he’s pretty much the best person to have backing you up, if you get into a scrap.”

  “I’ll have to think on it, then.”

  “We’ll be heading out early. You may need to seek your bed now. I plan to try and hit the hay myself, shortly.” John, hearing a sound turns and looks down the street to see Miss Rebekah coming towards them. “I may be only the first to tell you to get your butt to bed though,” he says, pointing toward the beautiful young woman.

  David laughs ruefully. “I am going to have some explaining to do as well. She doesn’t quite know as yet.” He squares his shoulders and walks over to her.

  John stands there a moment, watching the young couple. Their interactions remind him of he and Liz so much, he feels a pang in his chest. Even after all this time, he still misses her wonderful personality, her attitude. He sighs disconsolately and walks back into the Marshal’s office to see Red-Feather continuing to whittle away at the wood. Lyttle is nowhere to be seen.

  John checks in on the prisoners. No Lyttle, all seems to be quiet. He looks back to Red-Feather and asks, “Where’d he go?”

  Red-Feather points to the door indicating the lawman left.

  John nods and says, “If you want, I can stay the night here with the prisoners and you can stay the night in the hotel again.”

  Without a word, Red-Feather blows the flakes of wood away, stands, nods toward John, and leaves.

  John goes over to the door and sets the newly-installed lock. He is glad someone had the wherewithal to bring some basic necessities like this with them.

  He goes back to the desk, props his feet up and promptly falls fast asleep.

  Chapter 39

  After the execution of Wilkinson, the two young men made their way back to Tahlequah, with the results of their quest.

  They returned from their blood-quest just shy of two months to the day after they left on it. When they entered the camp at Tahlequah, they were met by armed guards and immediately escorted to the council of chiefs.

  The two young men now stand in front of the council. They are told that Running Buffalo has joined his forefathers, then aske
d to report on what they have seen and done.

  John reports everything that has gone on to this point. When he is done, he’s asked exactly what day the execution was on. He answers August Twenty Second.

  Chief Sitting Elk asks intently, “You are certain of the day and the area?”

  “Absolutely, honored elder. What is going on?”

  “The information that was given to Branson ended up being given to Quantrill’s raiders. They massacred over one hundred civilians in Lawrence, Kansas. There were no soldiers waiting there. None at all.”

  John is stunned at this news. He told me they were going to go after only the Red-legs, not the civilians. “I have spoken the truth. We have fulfilled out duty to clan and tribe. We were released from our oaths to the Confederacy.”

  “Running Buffalo told us as much. What have you in mind to do now?”

  “We’re tired of fighting. I, in particular, want to go somewhere and not have to fight to live,” Josh replies with a tone of resignation in his voice.

  “You will need to leave the ‘Nations, then. The war rages on around us. Go west. You will always be Cherokee. If you are ever in need, come to us and we will help.”

  John and Josh look at each other. Again, they are to be left to their own devices, in the wilderness.

  They leave their second home, riding side by side into the unknown.

  JOHN WAKES WITH A START. He hears a sound inside the cell room. Quickly, he stands and looks in. He sees one prisoner choking out another. He sees the man lose consciousness and the attacker allows his victim to fall to the ground.

  John slams the door open, waking all the prisoners, save for the one who was just knocked out. He steps further inside the room, draws his gun, and demands, “Just what is going on in here?”

  The attacker points to his victim and, with disgust dripping with every word says, “Nancy-boy here was trying to take liberties with me.”