The Delivery

by James Edwin Branch

  Rafe put both of his hands in the air when the Peacemaker suddenly turned towards him. He took his left hand, and with his index finger and his thumb, he carefully pulled the butt of his pistol from the holster on his right side and dropped the weapon to the ground. Once he’d done that, he ran to his brother’s side.

  “Harvey, what have you done,” Rafe questioned with tears in his eyes.

  Ira stood there for a second and then smoothly holstered his Colt. He walked over slowly and picked up both Rafe’s and Harvey’s pistols.

  He stood there silent for a few minutes and watched while Millicent joined Rafe at Harvey’s side. She began to cry as she checked Harvey for any signs of life.

  “I never wanted anything like this to happen,” she cried out. “Never.”

  Uriah sat down on a nearby boulder and clutched his hands together. He was torn, part of him was relieved that the fray was over, and part of him felt like Millicent, sad that it had come to Harvey’s demise.

  When Ira walked over to him, all Uriah said was, “Hate did this, and as usual, it wasn’t worth the cost.”

  Ira shook his head and watched as Rafe mourned his brother’s loss.

  After a while, Ira told Uriah that he and the lady would have to accompany him back to Bensonville to help straighten all this out. He told them about the Army coming to help find the passengers, and when Uriah and Millicent heard about the army, they agreed to ride along.

  Rafe seemed calm enough considering what happened and helped Ira wrap his brother’s body in a blanket, and then they tied Harvey’s body over his saddle for the trip back north.

  More than two hours later, they all started back on the trail they’d followed south towards Richmond. Now they were going back towards the railroad and Kingman’s Ridge. Rafe rode along silently. He was grief stricken and still in shock at what he’d seen. His little brother was dead and the only one he felt any anger towards was himself. It was a solemn ride.

  Ira didn’t want to kill Harvey, but the boy didn’t give him a choice. He’d tried to settle the matter peacefully, but Harvey decided to take advantage of it. Ira knew if he hadn’t drawn and fired that Harvey would have shot him. He watched as Rafe rode next to his brother’s body and wondered what was going on in Rafe’s mind.

  Rafe knew from the moment Ira’s Colt left his holster that the marshal could have shot him too. Virgil’s warning was well placed. Those stories of Ira’s speed weren’t just stories to Rafe anymore. He’d seen Ira’s Colt Peacemaker in action. As much as he was mourning Harvey, he was glad he was alive. Ira could have killed him in the very same moment as he killed Harvey.

  Back at the rescue site, the men lined up and were beginning their march into the woods. The wooded area stretched for miles. The lieutenant took charge and no one seemed to mind. He instructed them to move slowly and not get too far apart. He urged everyone to look around and yet keep an eye on those in the line with them.

  They broke the tree line and moved inward slowly. It would be nearly an hour before they found the first signs of any of the passengers.

  At nearly a quarter mile into the woods, one of the troopers came across a grizzly sight. It was the remains of a human being half eaten on the trail. The trooper called out to the lieutenant, passing the word down the line. The officer, accompanied by the sergeant, immediately ran to the trooper’s side. After the sergeant looked the remains over, he noticed the lieutenant’s stomach seemed a little queasy.

  “Looks like a mountain lion did this,” The sergeant noted.

  The lieutenant shook his head while he held his hand near his mouth, trying not to vomit. It was a sight that would have done that to any man.

  The sergeant looked around the area while the line of searchers held their positions. It wasn’t long before he found signs of several other people and where their tracks appeared to run deeper into the woods.

  “Several people were moving this way,” the sergeant said as he pointed further inward. “They seem to be running. Their tracks are getting heavier.”

  “How can you tell?” the lieutenant asked.

  The sergeant pointed down at the trail and stretched his legs out as he pointed at his inseam.

  “These folks are moving with a longer stride now; they are running. People don’t tread so lightly when they’re running.”

  The lieutenant nodded his head that he understood and motioned for the sergeant to rejoin the line. He ordered the trooper who found the body to bury it there in the woods where it lay. It was in such a condition that he knew they would have trouble getting it back out of the woods.

  “Let’s get to it,” the lieutenant hollered, “If we don’t get to searching, they’ll all be like this one.”

  Slowly the line began to move again. Deeper and deeper into the woods they traveled, searching the brush as they went.

  The grizzly sight they’d found took its toll on all of them and the searchers continued the search with less hope than they’d begun.

  The sergeant watched his young lieutenant command with dignity even though he knew the young officer was having inner turmoil. Barely a grown man, he’d exhibited the character they taught him at West Point. Though he could never tell him straight out, the sergeant was really proud of him.

  Further down the trail, Virgil McGinty had reached the cabin at Kingman’s Ridge and was looking at the tracks in front of the cabin.

  There were too many sets of tracks to make out much from them, but he knew what that meant. The marshal had already come and gone. He was following his brothers, and Virgil knew he had to continue.

  He was tired from traveling most of the night, and yet he had no choice. Something inside him that morning told him that danger was near. He couldn’t put his finger on it; maybe it was just a feeling. Whatever it was, it swept over him like a curtain and covered his entire being.

  He left the cabin and followed the trail to the south. Once he was away from the cabin, the trail seemed to clear a little. There were several hoof prints all leading in the same direction. He rode on slowly, favoring his shoulder wound and occasionally looking off in the distance hoping to see some sign of riders ahead of him.

  In a draw some three miles ahead, he would meet Rafe leading the others up from the south. It was probably lucky for Ira that Virgil hadn’t seen them until he was right on them, or he might have laid in wait.

  As Ira and the others climbed out of the draw, they came face to face with Virgil McGinty as he was riding south. He was only about a hundred paces to the north when he saw them.

  Virgil came to a stop and looked at the riders approaching him.

  He saw Rafe, Uriah and the woman. The other figure beside Rafe was the unmistakable shape of a corpse hung over the saddle on Harvey’s horse.

  “Rafe,” Virgil called out, “You better tell me that’s not Harvey underneath that blanket.”

  Rafe McGinty’s eyes welled up. This was the moment he’d been dreading. He wasn’t sure how he was going to tell Virgil that Harvey was dead.

  Ira saved him the trouble.

  “Your brother pulled on me and left me no choice,” Ira shouted in a firm voice.

  Virgil stared at Ira sternly as Ira inched closer to him.

  “You best be prepared to go for that pistol of yours, Marshal,” Virgil warned.

  Rafe was beside himself.

  “Virgil, there’s been enough killing. I can’t lose two brothers today.”

  Virgil wasn’t paying any attention to Rafe. Uriah pulled at Millicent’s horse moving her out of the line of fire once again as Virgil prepared to charge Ira on horseback.

  Virgil pulled his pistol and kicked his bay in the haunches. The big bay bucked and began running headlong towards Ira and his gray.

  The gray stood his ground and never flinched as Ira watched the man riding furiously towards him. Ira pulled his pistol and took aim while Virgil began shooting wildly.

  Two bullets whizzed past Ira before he fired his Peacemaker. The pistol in h
is hand was steady and hardly bucked as Ira slowly squeezed off the shot.

  Rafe watched as the smoke smoothly swirled out of Ira’s gun barrel and Virgil fell hard to the right from his horse onto the ground. As Virgil hit the ground, he moaned as he rolled off towards the side of the trail.

  Ira sat atop the gray and never changed his expression. He had a look of regret on his face, but Virgil, like Harvey, hadn’t given him a lot of choice.

  Uriah rode up next to Ira while Rafe rushed to yet another of his brothers’ sides.

  “You didn’t have a choice,” Uriah exclaimed, “He would have killed you if he had been a better shot.”

  “I know it,” Ira replied, “But that don’t make it anymore pleasant. I’ve killed two men this morning and all I wanted to do was stop the violence.”

  “Sometimes you don’t have a choice,” Uriah told him. “Sometimes it’s either them or you. If you hadn’t fired, you’d be the dead man now.”

  Rafe had dismounted and ran to Virgil’s side. Ira’s bullet hit Virgil slightly south of center and Virgil, though still alive, wasn’t long for this world. He knew it and didn’t need Rafe to tell him he was dying.

  “I knew this morning that something had happened. I could feel it.” Virgil said, coughing.

  “Don’t try to talk, Virgil.” Rafe replied, weeping.

  “You never did have the stomach for this sort of thing, Rafe.” Virgil said smiling, with a tiny bit of blood coming from his mouth.

  “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t taken Harvey after those folks, this never would have happened.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Rafe. Harvey and me were cut from the same cloth. Sooner or later, we were gonna run into a bullet anyway.”

  “What do I do now, Virgil?” Rafe questioned.

  Virgil smiled painfully and for the first time in his life, he looked at his brother with more love than disgust.

  “You build yourself a life and be what Harvey and I couldn’t. You make us proud.”

  Rafe wiped the tears from his eyes and watched as Virgil passed. He knelt there for a few minutes holding him before Uriah dismounted and helped wrap Virgil like they’d done for Harvey.”

  “We can bury them here or take them on into Bensonville and put them in boot hill,” Ira told Rafe.

  “I’d like to put them in boot hill so I know where they are, Marshal.”

  Ira nodded, and with Uriah’s help, he lifted Virgil’s body over his horse and tied it down. After Virgil was taken care of, Ira began leading them all back down the trail towards Bensonville and the rescue camp. He watched Rafe out of the corner of his eye and kept his hand near his Peacemaker.

  No one spoke or made a sound. The events of the day had already said enough for all of them. No one wanted the deaths, least of all Ira.

  He’d paced most of the night before fearing that something like this might happen. He led them silently onward returning to his little town and the one person whose mere presence made his life worth living.

  As they traveled, the frailty of life once again hit Ira hard, and he decided it was time to put down some roots and open up to Miss Sullivan. He’d had enough death in his world. What he wanted now was a life he could share.

  \

  Chapter 11

  Gold Bars of Hope

  While Ira and the three survivors of the morning’s conflict traveled back towards Bensonville, the men searching the woods continued their unpleasant task.

  Barely another hour in the woods, they ran across three more passengers. This time they were alive, but lost and suffering from exposure. A trooper stayed with them and provided them with food and water. He covered them with a few warm blankets they’d brought along while the rest of the men continued the search.

  The people from the train tried to stay together when they’d entered the woods. They had all moved inward just in case the robbers changed their minds about leaving them alive.

  The three survivors told them that the passengers had been separated when a mountain lion attacked one of them. The big cat was a killer, and the three of them began running until they couldn’t run anymore. Throughout the night, they’d heard large animals in the brush but were afraid to move for fear a bear might get them or that the big cat would return. They told the soldier that they’d lost track of time. Even during daylight hours, the woods were dark and they had no idea how long they’d been lost in there.

  They were two men and one woman. Of the three, surprisingly, the woman seemed to be in the best condition. She was an eastern woman and used to the colder temperatures of New England. The two men were southern gentlemen traveling south to return home. The evening and colder nights in the mountains wore heavy on them, and despite their attempts to appear strong for their female companion, both men were broken and close to giving up on life.

  The discovery of the three passengers still alive instilled hope in the young lieutenant, and once again he rallied the searchers to continue their trek deeper into the woods. There were still eleven souls missing, and he was determined to give it his all. Whether they found them or not, no one would say they hadn’t tried.

  Another body was discovered later in the afternoon, and long before nightfall, they had to give up the search and find the way back out to the bonfire. The doctor determined that the last man they’d found probably died from exposure and exhaustion.

  All in all, it was a disturbing day without much progress. As nightfall closed in, a familiar sight approached the weary young lieutenant.

  He watched as six horses made their way towards the camp. As he saw the leader approach, he remembered the familiar silhouette of Marshal Ira Beckam on horseback.

  “Marshal, I see you caught up to those folks you were tracking.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ira responded as he dismounted.

  The rest of his party dismounted as well. Uriah and Millicent went straight to the fire to warm up. Rafe kept the horses together that held his brothers’ bodies. He wasn’t sure what he should do or whether he was under arrest. He only knew that he didn’t want to suffer the same fate as Harvey and Virgil.

  “Didn’t turn out quite like I planned,” Ira said as the Lieutenant looked at the two figures draped over their saddles.

  “I sure hope your having a little better luck out here.”

  “Not so good,” the lieutenant began, “We searched all day and only found three of those folks alive.”

  Ira hung his head and wondered if he’d stayed there earlier if things might have been different. The lieutenant must have sensed something like that because he immediately told Ira how the search went.

  “If we hadn’t had so many people in a line, we wouldn’t have found a soul in there. The brush is so thick the only thing that can live in there is wild animals and most of them are predators. If you and that fellow Lupe from town had gone in there the first day, you’d likely be as lost as these folks were.”

  Ira gave the lieutenant a nod. He wasn’t certain if the young officer was trying to make him feel better, but if he was, it was working.

  Over by the fire, one of the troopers asked Uriah what happened to the two men draped over their saddles.

  “They both drew on Marshal Beckam,” Uriah explained.

  “At the same time?” a curious trooper questioned.

  “No, but I tell you it wouldn’t have mattered. That marshal is as fast with a pistol as anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  “Really?” the trooper exclaimed.

  “Yeah, one of those fellows already had his gun out, and the marshal still pulled his pistol and shot first.”

  “Wow, I bet he’s nearly as fast as Bill Hickok,” the trooper said excitedly.

  “Now, I didn’t say that,” Uriah replied, “I saw Bill Hickok in the Dakotas when I was a buffalo soldier, and that man isn’t like most. I will tell you that both the marshal and Hickok stand steady when there’s trouble brewing.”

  Uriah’s mention of meeting Bill Hickok and his recollection of his ti
me as a buffalo soldier caused the troopers to gather around hoping to hear an exciting story from him. Most of them were, like the lieutenant, green and open to hearing any new Army stories.

  His acceptance by the soldiers after what they’d been through somehow restored what little faith Uriah had in men. He told them his story and he enjoyed the trooper’s company while Miss Millicent sipped fresh coffee and watched. She was just happy to be warm and in safe company.

  The darkness kept them there all night. Though it wasn’t far to Bensonville, they all knew what traveling in the dark might mean. There were enough lost people in the woods already.

  About 6 a.m., the men of the rescue camp began to stir. As they prepared to search the woods again, Ira commandeered a wagon the men had brought from town and loaded up the three passengers they’d already pulled from the woods, along with Uriah and Millicent Anders and they all set out for Bensonville.

  It was barely 8 a.m. when one of the older men in town scurried quickly down the walk towards the café. He’d stayed in town rather than help the others search. He was in his 60’s and Lupe politely told him they would need some men to watch the town while the others were away.

  He knew it was because of his age but rather than be offended he chose to see the situation through Lupe’s eyes. When he saw the marshal returning with the wagon, he knew the one person in town who would be the most interested in seeing his return.

  It seemed that almost everyone in town knew of the budding romance between Ira and Miss Sullivan. About the only two people who didn’t seem to see the spark between them were Ira and Miss Sullivan.

  When the man arrived at the café, he could hardly speak from having to catch his breath.

  “Miss Sullivan, Miss Sullivan,” he exclaimed. “The marshal is coming in with a wagon full of people.

  She’d been baking in the kitchen and immediately dropped everything she was doing and raced out to the street.

  The sound of the wagon was unusually loud this morning. It was probably because most of the town’s men were at the search site assisting in the rescue, and the town was abnormally quiet.