The Officer and the Traveler

by Rose Gordon

  General Davis stared at him unblinkingly. “Yes?”

  Gray handed the man the mysterious missive he’d found in his room earlier. “I don’t like the look of this.” He said as General Davis picked it up. “It’s a trap of some sort and I have no desire to be caught in the middle. I don’t know who else to ask who I know can handle it—” he swallowed his last ounce of pride and forced himself not to scowl at the keen look of interest on the general’s face— “can you hide out in the trees and act as a sharpshooter for me?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I went to the rounders game this afternoon and this was waiting when I returned.” General Davis pulled out an identical note and tossed it on the table. The only difference between the two notes was the time. General Davis was asked to arrive fifteen minutes later. Gray tensed. A lot could happen in fifteen minutes.

  “How could this possibly involve us both?” Gray asked at last.

  “I don’t know.” General Davis ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t like the look of this at all.”

  “Neither do I. I’ll go through the underground tunnel between the store closet and the blockhouse first while you stand by the wall and listen for my signal.”

  “Does that mean if I hear a gunshot as soon as you’re through that you’re dead and there’s no need for me to come, too?” General Davis asked.

  Gray went completely still. That had to have been the first time Gray had ever heard the general try to be humorous. His remark wasn’t of course, but he’d tried. How very strange. Shrugging it off, he pulled out his watch. “In ten minutes dinner will be announced. We’ll go then and wait together in the back of the store closet until it’s time.”

  General Davis nodded his agreement.

  Once inside the store closet, General Davis went immediately over to the wall adjacent to the blockhouse and tried to peer through any crack he could find. But the windows in the blockhouse had been covered and without a ray of light coming in it was impossible to see anything in there.

  They each took a seat and waited.

  If the person responsible for this scheme was of a mind to put both Gray and General Davis in an uncomfortable, tension filled situation, they’d succeeded. For the next three hours they sat in silence, staring at one another until the sun had fallen completely from the sky and they could no longer see one another. How strange that Gray didn’t have any of the usual urges to want to murder the man. Was it possible his relationship with Michaela had eased some of the hatred he’d once felt for her father?

  A loud noise jolted them to the present. Gray almost said a silent prayer of thanksgiving that his thoughts had been interrupted before they could go so far as to him being willing to reconcile with the man. A second later, there was a whisper, then another. The second one a little faster than the first.

  Gray’s heart picked up pace. He pulled his pocket watch from his trousers and held it up to let the moonlight illuminate it. Whoever was in there wasn’t expecting him for another hour. Gray’s heart slammed his chest. What if there were others who were expected to join the group and thought to use the tunnel? Would they find it odd that the door to the storage closet appeared to be unlocked from the outside? He slipped his gun free from its holster and cocked it, aiming it at the door.

  From the adjacent door whispers continued and Gray pressed his ear to the wall, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He considered popping loose the floorboard that led to the underground passage between this room and the blockhouse but didn’t wish to alert anyone to their presence. He’d wait.

  A few minutes later, the talking ceased.

  Gray didn’t know which was more unsettling, having them in the room talking or the quiet.

  Time crept by, the loud boom, boom of Gray’s pounding heart the only indication time was passing at all.

  A while later, the door to the adjoining room crept open and the soft scrapes and thuds of booted feet walking across the wooden planks were the only sounds. Gray’s stomach clenched so hard bile surged up his throat. This was it. This was who was waiting for them and it didn’t sound like he was alone. It sounded like a small group.

  In the pale moonlit glow of the room, Gray searched for his father-in-law’s eyes. But he couldn’t find them. In his mind images of Michaela formed and his heart practically stopped. If something happened to him tonight, who would protect her? How would she hear of what had happened to him? Furthermore, was it worth it? Why was he sitting here in a darkened room about to willingly go into a trap that might cost him his life when there were so many other better places to be—like with Michaela at their home? He jumped to his feet. Suddenly everything seemed so foolish and trivial.

  “What are you doing?” General Davis bit off; presumably irritated by the noise Gray made when he so carelessly stood.

  “Something I should have done several hours ago: going home,” Gray said as simple as you please.

  “Home?” The emotion inflected in his father-in-law’s voice was hard to place and Gray couldn’t force himself to care.

  “Yes, home.” He released the hammer on his pistol and put it back into the holster. “Where I can dine with my wife.” And beg her forgiveness for my many sins, including this one. How foolish was he to become so wrapped up in what information Jacobs might tell him that he’d brushed Michaela aside and told her to go somewhere until he was ready? A bitter taste filled his mouth. Who had he become? Some brute who barked orders and made commands without worry for disrupting anyone else’s plans, especially those of his wife? And for what? Because he had to know so badly what the hell a wastrel like Jacobs had to say. What good would it do? Gray could guarantee whatever knowledge Jacobs, or whoever wrote that note, wanted to impart wasn’t worth losing Michaela.

  And there was no denying it. The more he pushed her away like this, the more he’d lose her.

  His heart slammed in his chest and his lungs burned. He was going to lose her. He’d pushed her away at almost every turn and if today’s conversation out at the river wasn’t enough to turn her into a cold, unloving fish, his actions tonight would whether he was injured or not and the thought alone made his blood run cold.

  “I’m going home and you should go home, too,” Gray said, making his way toward the door.

  General Davis’ hand snuck out and grabbed Gray just above the elbow. “What the devil for?”

  “Why the devil not?” Gray countered testily. “The way I see it, there is no reason for us to be here unless we are part of some trap.” He narrowed his eyes on his father-in-law’s form, unease and a touch of anger coursing through him. “What’s your game?”

  “My game?”

  Gray wrapped his hand around the cold handle of his pistol. “Yes, your game.”

  “I don’t play games, Grayson, you should know that by now.”

  Cold chills ran up Gray’s spine. What was going on? Was Michaela’s father the one he should fear and not the men in the other room? “What the hell is going on?” Gray demanded.

  “Well, if the two of you would get your asses over here, we’d tell you,” came Colonel Lewis’ muffled voice through the wall.

  Irritation bubbled inside Gray. He didn’t want to go hear what Colonel Lewis had to say. He didn’t care. His biggest concern right now was his wife.

  “After you,” General Davis barked. He tossed down the loose floorboard he’d pried up.

  “You can go in there if you want, but I need to go—”

  “You can find your wife later and beg her forgiveness then.” General Davis’ voice turned hard as steel. “We need you. I need you. Just this last time then I promise I’ll leave and stop interfering with your life.”

  Gray laughed. “You must think I’m a fool to believe that.”

  “A lovesick one, perhaps,” General Davis said with a scoff.

  Gray pressed his lips together, but he couldn’t deny it. That’s exactly what he was: a lovesick fool. “Why am I needed?”
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  “Everything will be explained when we get there.”

  “So you knew this was a trick all along?” Gray grumbled as he lowered himself into the hole in the floor.

  “Partially. I knew a few details, but not as many as I’d like.”

  Despite his irritation with the man, Gray smiled. “Good for Colonel Lewis.”

  Gray climbed up into the blockhouse then turned around to offer his father-in-law help up. When they were both standing in the middle of the darkened room, the unmistakable swish of a match sliding across a rough surface rent the air.

  Colonel Lewis held the match a few inches from his face. “There’s a settee against the far wall.”

  Gray and General Davis stumbled over to it; then the match went out and the room became as black as death once again.

  “What’s going on, George?” General Davis asked.

  “It has come to my attention that there has become a regular occurrence of men leaving the fort at night,” a voice Gray didn’t recognize said from about five feet to his left. “I was summoned from the capitol to investigate it.”

  Gray went as stiff, and cold, as a statue. He opened his mouth to defend himself and explain about the one time that he did go, but that he’d never touched Soft Dove. Unfortunately, his throat went dry and he couldn’t form a single syllable.

  “It would seem, these trips have become regular with an assignation scheduled for tonight,” Colonel Lewis further explained.

  Gray relaxed instantly. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that tonight we might find the real culprit behind Soft Dove’s attack,” Colonel Lewis said.

  Relief and anxiety warred inside Gray.

  “That part I knew,” General Davis said. “Which is why I had to come up with a way to keep Gray out of sight and distracted. Now, what is our plan?”

  “Wait,” another voice said.

  “Wait?” Gray echoed. “For what?”

  “Their return,” Colonel Lewis said.

  “Are we just supposed to hear them and run out and confront them?” Gray asked, an edge of irritation on his voice.

  “In short, yes,” Colonel Lewis said.

  Gray pushed to his feet. “No, thank you. I have other things to do rather than get beaten within an inch of my life for this nonsense again.”

  “We need you,” Colonel Lewis said.

  “No, you just needed a somewhat able body and mine was the first one you thought of.”

  “That’s partially true,” the colonel allowed. He sighed. “The truth of it is, from what we can tell, the men who went are likely officers, which means I can’t go around asking anyone else for help.” His voice grew hard and uneven, raw. “I don’t know who I can and can’t trust anymore and the fewer people who know about all of this, the better. If I didn’t ask you, I’d have to ask another officer to get involved. It was just easier to ask you.”

  Gray’s lips thinned. “How convenient for me.”

  “I know,” Colonel Lewis said with a slight laugh.

  “How do we even know that we’ll hear them?” Gray asked, hoping they’d see the foolishness in this plan.

  “You’ll know,” the low, muffled voice Gray couldn’t recognize muttered.

  “In our anonymous tip, we were informed that the men who frequently go out always use this entrance when leaving and returning since it’s the furthest away from the sleeping quarters,” Colonel Lewis said.

  “But what about the man up in the watchtower? We could just go ask him who paid him to look the other way while they made their escape,” Gray said, frowning. Something didn’t seem right about any of this.

  “Ah, another point in the favor of using this entrance,” Colonel Lewis said a tad sarcastically. “As coincidental as it might seem. Our informant also mentioned that whenever this group of men goes out, this tower is not covered.”

  “Not covered?” Gray asked.

  “Yes, Private Bernard Peterson, the man assigned watchtower duty tonight, is no longer with us. If you’d like to confirm this for yourself, you should climb the stairs.”

  “How was such an oversight allowed, George?” General Davis demanded of the colonel.

  “It’s an easy one around here, sir,” Colonel Lewis said without a hint of discomfort or shame. “At least forty men die out here of disease or wounds each month. Every two months we’re getting new men to fill their places. It’s hard to know that there is a live body in the tower each night—a fact I will be taking more care to confirm, I assure you. Nonetheless, these men must keep a close eye on the assignment chart and plan their rendezvous for the nights when this happens to the guard for this tower.”

  “How clever,” General Davis mumbled. “Has our anonymous source given us any other clues?”

  “Not that will help us. He mentioned they always leave promptly an hour and a half after dark and have never been gone more than four hours.”

  “That must have been the men we heard,” Gray murmured, frowning. “Did he give an idea of how many there will be?”

  “No.”

  “And how many of us are there?” General Davis ventured.

  “Five,” Colonel Lewis said. “Me, you, Captain Montgomery, General Howard from the capitol, and General—”

  “It’s time!” someone barked at the same time that distant shouts filled the air.

  Gray’s body reacted with the instinct of an officer and without hesitation he rushed out the door behind Colonel Lewis toward the line of shouting Indians making enough noise to cause a war.

  Chapter Thirty

  Gray nearly cursed his father-in-law for getting him into this mess tonight as he ran the two hundred yards that separated the barracks and the officers’ quarters where a cluster of no less than twenty Cherokee Warriors and four bound and gagged men sat on horseback and were coming toward them at breakneck speed. The first three captives lacked any kind of facial covering, but the fourth man wore a dark mask. Gray was still too far away to make out who they were.

  The Indians had come bearing fire torches, which gave off enough light to see those who carried them but not much else.

  “We have your men,” came the nearly perfect English of the translator they’d brought along. The man swung down off his horse and stepped forward. Gray immediately recognized him as the man who’d led him and Jack to Dark Moon. Holding a large torch in one hand, he used the other to gesture to Lt. Lanksy, Lt. Forrester, and Lt. Warren, the three red-faced, unmasked men who were then harshly shoved off their mounts and to the ground in front of Gray and the other officers by their captors. “Your men.” He pointed back toward the masked man still seated on his horse. “Our bounty?”

  “Bounty?” echoed Colonel Lewis with a mild curse under his breath. “What bounty?”

  Behind the translator the chief stood, his angry face accented with the feathers of his headdress. He grabbed the torch from the translator and took a step toward Colonel Lewis and General Davis. “Where General Ridgely?” he demanded.

  Gray looked around. Colonel Lewis had said there were five of their men in the blockhouse waiting, but only four were standing here now: Gray, Colonel Lewis, General Davis and General Howard.

  “I don’t know where he went. Earlier today he mentioned having to make rounds of the watchtowers tonight and said he’d find me when it was time,” Colonel Lewis said. He drew himself up to his full height. “In his absence, as the second highest ranking officer here I will act in his stead.”

  Chief Soaring Eagle did not look pleased. “He make many promise. None kept. We keep bounty.”

  “No,” Colonel Lewis said smoothly with a voice that held a firm edge of authority. “We do not give away our men to be punished. He will be tried for what he’s done to your daughter, but he will be returned.”

  Soaring Eagle sneered and made some gesture with his hand that made all the other Indians close ranks around their remaining captive. “No. Promise made.”

  “Who made you a promise?” Gen
eral Howard asked calmly, taking a step toward Soaring Eagle.

  Soaring Eagle’s lips thinned as he stared shrewdly at General Howard.

  The general put his hands into the air and took another step closer to the chief. “I’m General Philip Howard from Washington. I make treaties between my people and yours.” He gestured first to the soldiers, then to the Indians. “If you tell me what you were promised, I will see what can be done to make that happen.”

  Chief Soaring Eagle blinked, his face expressionless. He turned to the translator who was more fluent with English than he was. The two began speaking back and forth in their language.

  After a few exchanges, the translator turned toward General Howard. “He say that General Ridgely promised to find the man who attack his daughter and kill him. Since General Ridgely not here, nor stop man from more attacks, we keep him and kill him ourselves.”

  “Don’t be hasty,” General Howard said slowly. “General Ridgely is around here somewhere, once he gets here, we’ll get this all settled.”

  “No. I no wait for broken promise,” the chief said. He walked over toward the masked man who was still on his horse wiggling around like a fish on a line and pulled him to the ground with one swift movement.

  He fell to the ground with a hard thwack where he immediately continued bucking and squirming.

  “E do da! E do da!” a feminine voice called out, running out of the darkness where the Cherokees had arrived from earlier. The young woman was screaming something Gray couldn’t begin to understand and shaking a piece of torn leather.

  “What’s she saying?” Colonel Lewis demanded of the translator.

  “That’s his other daughter,” the translator murmured. “She says not to hurt the man.” He paused to listen to the heated exchange between father and daughter. “She says it’s a trap.”

  “A trap,” Gray breathed. He didn’t know what kind of trap this could possibly be, but they’d all fallen victim to it.

  “She claims, the masked man is not the real man,” the translator continued.

  No, he wasn’t a real man if he had to reduce himself to forcing women. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. That’s not what he’d said. He’d said the man under the mask wasn’t the real criminal. Heedless to the angry screaming around him, Gray walked up to the man wiggling on the ground and ripped his mask off. McCorkle. Not bothering with the nicety of cutting the rope on the gag, Gray reached down and gave it a hearty yank out of McCorkle’s mouth.