and
stretched.
Nodding in agreement, Ty watched his
brother search the depths of the darkness. “The chore of keeping
them there has been more than they bargained for. Still, I don’t
think they’d have taken to murdering innocent women and children.
At any rate, the townspeople would’ve heard talk about any
suspicious activity.” Ty topped off his coffee.
“ That means what then?” Seth
looked back at his brother, his investigative instincts kicking
in.
“ Well, since Fort Worth is
over a hundred miles away, I think it’s safe to say it wasn’t
another company.” Ty shook his head in consideration and poked at
the nearby fire. “No, the Army being responsible for this doesn’t
feel right. Lone Eagle’s people were murdered as they slept. Some
were even scalped. That’s not the Army’s way.” He peered up
sideways at his brother with a grimace he couldn’t hide.
“ What about another tribe?
Maybe Apache?” Seth asked.
“ I guess it could be
possible.” Ty poured another cup of coffee as he considered. “What
Apaches do you know of who ride Army issued horses with U.S. issued
shoes?”
“ Stolen?” Seth pulled on his
boots.
“ Maybe,” Ty considered as he
stood back up. “But the slaughter of the horses doesn’t seem like
Apaches.”
“ What about the Texas
Rangers?” Seth’s jaw went rigid with the question he’d rather have
not considered.
Ty spit into the fire. A hiss rose into
the waning night air. “Damn the governor of our great state.” Ty’s
oath followed his sneer. “Whoever heard of releasing prisoners and
giving them a badge along with the power to dictate right from
wrong anyway? You know the directives as well as I do, especially
the one which went something like – ‘Inflict the most severe
punishment on those Indians who are considered hostile or suspected
hostile’.”
His quote punctuated with his search of
the sky above told Seth what Ty thought of the directive, seeking
help from the gods when no help existed below.
“ I know. It’s all the
townspeople can talk about. ‘Hostile’ could be explained away
simple enough with no witnesses.” Seth ground the stick he’d
produced to stoke the fire into the dirt with more effort than was
necessary. “Damn vigilantes.”
“ Yeah…no witnesses,” Ty
repeated as he stretched forward to pick up the pot of coffee.
Pouring himself another steaming cup, he considered the situation.
“They say the one in charge is called Brannon – ‘Backbone Brannon’.
The townspeople quote him as saying the reservations are
overcrowded. They say he likes killing. He feeds off it.” Ty’s
expression was grim. “Settlers don’t care much how he goes about
it. They just want the Indians gone.”
A hush fell over them both. Finally, Ty
spoke up again. “You know we’re on our own with this
one?”
“ That’s just the way I like
it.” Giving the coffee cup a hard fling, Seth watched the flames
hiss and spew as the dregs from his cup hit their mark.
***
Three weary shadows on horseback slowed
to a halt at the top of the western ridge overlooking the Loflins’
ranch. Shooter Creek spread before them in its natural
splendor.
As Seth leaned over the saddle horn, he
glanced in Celia’s direction. Inclining his head, he asked simply,
“What do you think? Has it changed much?”
Celia straightened in her saddle as she
rode up beside Seth. A breeze tugged at her hair. She pulled it to
the side of her neck and peered out toward the shallow valley
below. The ranch had always seemed like an endless beautiful place.
She felt a twinge in her chest as she looked at what Seth had once
told her was one of the biggest cattle operations in
Texas.
She recalled the first time she’d seen
Shooter Creek. The lush, green grass had been so thick it seemed to
swallow the cattle grazing in its pastures. The smell of warm
sunshine and sage had filled Celia with a sense of peace as she’d
watched in awe while a herd of horses galloped
stretched.
Nodding in agreement, Ty watched his
brother search the depths of the darkness. “The chore of keeping
them there has been more than they bargained for. Still, I don’t
think they’d have taken to murdering innocent women and children.
At any rate, the townspeople would’ve heard talk about any
suspicious activity.” Ty topped off his coffee.
“ That means what then?” Seth
looked back at his brother, his investigative instincts kicking
in.
“ Well, since Fort Worth is
over a hundred miles away, I think it’s safe to say it wasn’t
another company.” Ty shook his head in consideration and poked at
the nearby fire. “No, the Army being responsible for this doesn’t
feel right. Lone Eagle’s people were murdered as they slept. Some
were even scalped. That’s not the Army’s way.” He peered up
sideways at his brother with a grimace he couldn’t hide.
“ What about another tribe?
Maybe Apache?” Seth asked.
“ I guess it could be
possible.” Ty poured another cup of coffee as he considered. “What
Apaches do you know of who ride Army issued horses with U.S. issued
shoes?”
“ Stolen?” Seth pulled on his
boots.
“ Maybe,” Ty considered as he
stood back up. “But the slaughter of the horses doesn’t seem like
Apaches.”
“ What about the Texas
Rangers?” Seth’s jaw went rigid with the question he’d rather have
not considered.
Ty spit into the fire. A hiss rose into
the waning night air. “Damn the governor of our great state.” Ty’s
oath followed his sneer. “Whoever heard of releasing prisoners and
giving them a badge along with the power to dictate right from
wrong anyway? You know the directives as well as I do, especially
the one which went something like – ‘Inflict the most severe
punishment on those Indians who are considered hostile or suspected
hostile’.”
His quote punctuated with his search of
the sky above told Seth what Ty thought of the directive, seeking
help from the gods when no help existed below.
“ I know. It’s all the
townspeople can talk about. ‘Hostile’ could be explained away
simple enough with no witnesses.” Seth ground the stick he’d
produced to stoke the fire into the dirt with more effort than was
necessary. “Damn vigilantes.”
“ Yeah…no witnesses,” Ty
repeated as he stretched forward to pick up the pot of coffee.
Pouring himself another steaming cup, he considered the situation.
“They say the one in charge is called Brannon – ‘Backbone Brannon’.
The townspeople quote him as saying the reservations are
overcrowded. They say he likes killing. He feeds off it.” Ty’s
expression was grim. “Settlers don’t care much how he goes about
it. They just want the Indians gone.”
A hush fell over them both. Finally, Ty
spoke up again. “You know we’re on our own with this
one?”
“ That’s just the way I like
it.” Giving the coffee cup a hard fling, Seth watched the flames
hiss and spew as the dregs from his cup hit their mark.
***
Three weary shadows on horseback slowed
to a halt at the top of the western ridge overlooking the Loflins’
ranch. Shooter Creek spread before them in its natural
splendor.
As Seth leaned over the saddle horn, he
glanced in Celia’s direction. Inclining his head, he asked simply,
“What do you think? Has it changed much?”
Celia straightened in her saddle as she
rode up beside Seth. A breeze tugged at her hair. She pulled it to
the side of her neck and peered out toward the shallow valley
below. The ranch had always seemed like an endless beautiful place.
She felt a twinge in her chest as she looked at what Seth had once
told her was one of the biggest cattle operations in
Texas.
She recalled the first time she’d seen
Shooter Creek. The lush, green grass had been so thick it seemed to
swallow the cattle grazing in its pastures. The smell of warm
sunshine and sage had filled Celia with a sense of peace as she’d
watched in awe while a herd of horses galloped
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