sheriffâs away âtil tomorrow sometime, and heâs gonna be awful touched up about this. He makes a lot of money from Miss Kate.â
Howard said, âYou tell the sheriff that we got the killer, and he donât need to bother with nothinâ.â
âSomebodyâll have to step up, take Kateâs place,â Lem said.
Soiled Dove wrinkled her nose at him. âMaybe me?â
âMaybe. Go on inside, and get warm for real.â
Soiled Dove got up, and padded inside as Beaudine rode around the far side of the porch, sporting an officerâs hat that had been stripped of its braiding, and his many-grey tunic, newly sewn together. Even made of bits and pieces, Beaudine was again impressive, with the long cleaver tied behind his saddle, the blade wrapped in butcherâs paper.
Beaudine said, âHowâre you fixed?â
Howard was still holding Betsy. âBelly wash and jerky.â
âThatâs going to change.â
âWords.â
Beaudine looked to Howard. âWeâve had our wait, but now the Bishop gold is ours for the taking. Are you loyal or not?â
âTo you?â
âTo the mission. If you have to light outââBeaudine pulled the cleaver from behind his saddle, and hefted it with both handsââIâll hold no ill feelings.â
Lem said, âWhat if we turn our guns on you?â
Chaney sat up alert, his hand on the Colt, but again, he was holding back. Waiting. He looked to Lemâs frozen eye, to Howard and his clenched fists, and finally to Beaudine.
Everyone seemed ready to pull when Beaudine spoke, his eyes fixed on something none of them could see. âDelivering death is our mission. Itâs your choice who we deliver it to: each other, or the bastards whoâre denying us a better life.â
Beaudine urged his horse, breaking away from the three. âI know where Iâm heading.â
Howard, Chaney, and Lem turned their mounts around, guns back in their holsters, or tucked into belts. Lem held the torch for all of them, showing the way.
Howard said, âShit-house rat crazy.â
Deadeye Lem Wright added, âAnd weâre gonna follow.â
Chaney said, âFor now.â
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Heart of the Enemy
âSir, Iâm getting our dinner. I canât be sitting around doinâ nothing. Uh, with your permission.â
Hector stood at attention before Creed, pointing to a distant gathering of trees that were being swallowed by the long shadows of the setting sun.
After a moment, it dawned on Hector that his pointing was useless and he dropped his arm. âThem rabbits went right for the woods. I can still see their tracks. Mustâve been five or six. I can get âem and weâll be eating for the rest of the trek, sir.â
Captain Creed said, âTake one of the men with you, and be back in an hour. You can tell time?â
âYes, sir.â
The pocket watch that Creed took from his jacket was a fine, ornate piece, presented to him by his men for his leadership skills. He held it in front of the boy by its gold chain. Hector swallowed air before gently putting it in his palm. âThank you, sir.â
âI expect my watch and you back in an hour, with or without dinner.â
The hour bled forty minutes, and White Fox had built a fire to burn low and steady. The fire was obeying, shielded from the wind by a small wall of snow that sheâd iced from a canteen, making it solid. Bishop and Creed were beside the flames, as she stood by, waiting for Hector to return from the woods with an armful of rabbits.
Bishop said, âHectorâs a good boy.â
âYes. He volunteers for every duty he can. Now he comes up with his own.â
âMy son was a lot younger, but thereâs a resemblance of spirit.â
âAll boys look the same. Thatâs why we give them uniforms.â
âThey werenât the same to me,
M. J. Arlidge
J.W. McKenna
Unknown
J. R. Roberts
Jacqueline Wulf
Hazel St. James
M. G. Morgan
Raffaella Barker
E.R. Baine
Stacia Stone