The Reckoning by Len Levinson

and you grabbed him like the desperate woman that you are. It didn't even matter that he's wearing a blue uniform.”
    â€œThe war is over, and it's time to put it behind us. Besides, I don't know how someone your age can talk about the war. You didn't go through it and couldn't possibly know what it was like.”
    He took another swig of whiskey, but his heart was ripping down the middle. “You've never taken me seriously.”
    â€œDuane, look at me.” She took his face in her hands and gently turned him toward her. “If I didn't take you seriously, I would never've let you touch me, and I certainly wouldn't've run off with you. But Lieutenant Dawes is a West Point graduate, and could become a general someday.”
    â€œAnd an Apache might cut off his head. If you loved me, it wouldn't matter where I went to school, and whether I'll be a general.”
    â€œIf you were ten years older, and ten years richer, I could never leave you. But I don't think that God intended me to be a schoolmarm for the rest of my life.”
    â€œThe only person you've ever loved is yourself!”
    â€œNow you're being mean.”
    â€œIt was nice knowing you.”
    He headed for the door, but she blocked hispath. “Please don't be angry, Duane. Try to understand.”
    â€œYou dumped me for a blue uniform.”
    She kissed his cheek. “You'll find another girl. Who could resist you? You're so beautiful—even I, who should know better—I've done things with you that I'd never done before, not even with the man I was supposed to marry.”
    He wanted to say something vicious, but a tear rolled down his cheek. He wished he could punch her through the wall, but at the same time wanted to hold her like the old days. “I was just a toy that you played with,” he said bitterly.
    She wrapped her arms around his waist and tenderly kissed his tears away. “Dear Duane,” she mused. “What will become of you?”
    â€œI can take care of myself,” he said gruffly.
    â€œPromise me that you won't get into any trouble?”
    He was silent.
    â€œPlease?” She hugged him closer. “Don't ever say that I didn't love you, because I do.”
    â€œI'll never believe you again. I'm sure you and that Yankee officer deserve each other.”
    He wriggled out of her grasp, lurched toward the door, and was gone. She heard his footsteps recede down the corridor, and the bedroom seemed dark and lonely. She sat on the edge of the bed, a blank expression on her face. I've done it.
    ***
    Duane entered the main room of the general store and pushed his way to the bar. “Gimme a bottle,” he snarled.

    Mr. Gibson placed white lightning before him, Duane snatched it out of his hand, pulled the cork, took three quick swallows, and waited for the kick. It caught him in the chest, he coughed, and took a step backward, bumping into a soldier.
    â€œWhat whar yer goin’, sonny.”
    Duane hoped the soldier would shoot him, to end the pain. She never loved me in the first place, he thought. I was just her lapdog. He found an empty length of wall, sat, and looked at cowboys and soldiers filling the air with garbled conversation, arguments, declarations, and drunken ravings. He was surprised to notice several of them looking at him and wondered if a scorpion was crawling across his shirt.
    He spotted an officer's shoulder boards on a stool across the room, and realized that he was looking at his rival. Before Duane knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, headed toward the bluecoat. Lieutenant Dawes saw him coming and stood up. Duane drew closer, sparks flying out of his eyes, and came to a stop in front of the lieutenant. “You son-of-a-bitch!” he said evenly, looking into his eyes.
    The general store was small, and white lightning amplified Duane's voice. Everything became silent, and all eyes turned in his direction. Lieutenant Dawes towered over the young