“Yes, they might at that.” Falcon, finished with his breakfast, picked up his napkin and dabbed at his mouth. “I appreciate the warning, and I will keep my eyes open. Are you going back to the sheriff’s office now?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll walk back with you to get my horse.”
It took the Hastings brothers a month to reach the small town of Feely, Montana. Along the way they robbed two general stores, choosing them as their targets because even though there was little money involved, they were also easier to rob. They had just gone into a saloon when Dale reached his hand out to stop his brother.
“Travis, look at that man over there in the corner with them two girls around him. Ain’t that Private Jerrod sittin’ over there?”
“Yeah,” Travis said. “Yeah, it is. I wonder what he’s doin’ up here?”
“Let’s find out,” Dale suggested.
Jerrod recognized the two men coming toward him, and he knew that meant that they also recognized him. Slowly, he pulled his pistol from its holster and held it under the table.
“You two git,” he said.
“Oh, honey, you mean you don’t want our company anymore?” one of the women asked.
“There might be some shootin’,” Jerrod said, and with a quick look of alarm, the two women moved.
“Hello, Jerrod,” one of the two men said.
“I don’t know nobody named Jerrod.”
“Come on, Jerrod. We’re the Hastings brothers. We was in the same barracks with you.”
“What do you want?” Jerrod asked.
“Nothin’,” Dale said. “We just seen you over here and thought we’d say hello.”
“Well, you’ve said it.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Travis asked. “How come you ain’t bein’ very friendly?”
“I got all the friends I need,” Jerrod said.
“What about Major Ackerman? Does he have all the friends he needs?”
“Ackerman? What are you asking me about Ackerman for?”
“Boyle invited me and Travis to join up with him and Major Ackerman,” Dale said. “And while he was talkin’ to us, he happened to mention that you was one of them. Are you still?”
“What if I am?”
Dale smiled. “Then we’ve come to the right place.”
“I’ll ask you again,” Jerrod said. “What do you want?”
“We want to join up with you,” Dale said.
Jerrod drummed his fingers on the table for several seconds, then he nodded. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll come back and let you know.”
“They’re good men, Major,” Corporal Jones said after Jerrod brought Travis and Dale’s request that they be allowed to join with the Raiders.
“I don’t remember them that way,” Ackerman said. “I remember them as real troublemakers.”
Jones smiled. “Yes, sir, but ain’t we all?” he asked. “Except for you of course, Major.”
“All right, have Jerrod bring them to me,” Ackerman said. “I’ll talk to them.”
“Here’s the thing,” Jerrod told the Hastings brothers. “When you are around Major Ackerman, you have to act just like you’re still in the army. You have to say sir to him, and all that.”
“Why?” Travis asked. “It was the yes sir ’n and no sir ’n and the salutin’ and stuff that made us desert in the first place.”
“How much money did you make as a private in the army?” Jerrod asked.
“Eleven dollars a month.”
“We got three hundred dollars from our last job, and there ain’t been a job yet that we didn’t get at least a hundred dollars. And because we’re an army instead of just a bunch of robbers, we ain’t lost a man. There ain’t no townspeople goin’ to mess with us, there ain’t no sheriff that’s got enough deputies to stop us, and there ain’t no posse big enough to come after us.”
“That beats what happened back in Meeker, don’t it, Travis?” Dale asked.
“Yeah, it beats it all to hell.”
“What are you talkin’ about, Meeker?” Jerrod asked.
“Four of us tried to hold up a bank there,” Dale said. “Two was kilt, me’n Travis got away.”
“With no money,” Travis added.
Jerrod chuckled. “That ain’t never happened with us, and it ain’t goin’ to happen. Come on, I’ll take you to see Major Ackerman.”
Ackerman had rented a small two-room cabin just beyond the town limits of Feely. In the front room he had a desk, and on the wall behind him, a map of Montana. Except for the lack of uniforms and flags, it could have been the office of the commandant of any army post in the West.
As they had been instructed by Jerrod, both Dale and Travis Hastings came to attention when they stepped up to the desk. The two men saluted, and Dale rendered the report for both of them.
“Sir, privates Dale and Travis Hastings reporting for duty.”
Ackerman returned the salute. “At ease, men,” he said. “Have either of you ever heard of a man named Euripides?”
“Seems like I have, Major. Wasn’t he with the Fifth Cavalry?” Travis asked.
Ackerman laughed. “No, Euripides was a tragedian, a playwright from the fourth century B.C. And though not a soldier, he is credited with one of the most truthful maxims of the military art. ‘Ten soldiers, wisely led, are worth one hundred without a head.’ Have you ever heard that quote?”
“No, sir, I can’t say as I have,” Travis replied.
“No, I wouldn’t think so,” Ackerman said. “It is, however, one of the core truths taught at West Point.”
Ackerman smiled as he saw a complete lack of comprehension on the faces of the two men.
“We are shortly to undertake another operation,” Ackerman said. “One that should make a lot of money for all of us. And, considering the comment of Euripides, it is quite fortuitous, I think, that the number of men in my battalion has just gone up from eight to ten, particularly as I am a wise leader. We are fulfilling the Euripides maxim. All right, men, you are now a part of Ackerman’s Raiders.”
Ackerman pulled open his desk drawer and took out two twenty-dollar gold pieces, giving one to each of the two brothers.
“This will tide you over until our next operation, which, I am convinced, will pay handsomely. See Sergeant Casey, and let him fill you in on what will be expected of you.”
“Yes, sir, thank you!” Dale said, taking the money. He turned away from the desk.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Ackerman asked sharply.
“What?” Dale asked, then, he remembered, and he saluted. “Sir, permission to leave?”
Ackerman returned the salute. “Permission granted.”
“Is he really serious about all this salutin’ and sir ’n and stuff?” Dale asked Casey.
“Yes. But it works. When we are out there, we are an army,” Casey said. “Nobody dares to try and stop us.”
“What is this next job that he’s talking about? One that he says is going to make us a lot of money?”
“That’s another thing. We never know what job we are going to do until we actually start it. The major says that, that way, there’s no chance of anyone finding out about it.”
CHAPTER SIX
Colonel and Mrs. Edward Hamilton
request the honor of your presence
at the marriage of their daughter,
MARY KATE MACCALLISTER,
to
JONATHAN WILLIAM MCVEY,
on Saturday, the 17th day of July,
at half past three o’clock in the afternoon,
Brimstone Ranch,
Deer Lodge, Territory of Montana.
It was fortunate that Falcon was in MacCallister when the invitation arrived. It was from his sister, Megan, who sent a letter with the engraved invitation.
Falcon, I haven’t seen you in so long, please do come. Everyone else is coming, even Andrew and Roseanna. It would mean so much to me, and I know it would be important to Ma
ry Kate.
Falcon sent a telegram to them.
BEST WISHES TO MARY KATE STOP I WILL BE THERE STOP
“Do you have any baggage, Mr. MacCallister?” the station agent asked.
“I want my horse to go. And my saddle and saddlebags,” he said. “As far as I’m concerned, they can be in the stock car with Lightning.”
“What about your rifle?”
Falcon considered checking his rifle through, but then decided against it.
“No, thanks, I guess I’ll just keep it with me.”
“Very good, sir, but I remind you that game cannot be shot from the train.”
“I’ll remember that,” Falcon said, wondering what fool would even want to shoot game from the train.
The station agent wrote out the ticket and handed it to Falcon. “The train should be here within the hour,” he said.
Falcon thanked him, then took a seat in the waiting room. True to the station agent’s promise, it was just under an hour when he heard the whistle of the approaching train. He walked out onto the platform to wait for it.
The train swept into the station with belches of steam and smoke, and a symphony of hissing steam and rolling steel. It was a beautiful engine, painted a forest green, with shining brass trim. The lettering was yellow, and the huge driver wheels were red.
The engineer was hanging out the window looking at the track ahead, in order to find where to stop. He held a long, thin, curved-stem pipe clenched tightly in his teeth. The cars slowed, squeaked, and clanked as the couplers came together when it came to a complete stop. Even at rest the train wasn’t quiet, as the overheated bearings and journals popped and snapped as they were cooling.
The conductor, who had been standing on the boarding step of the first car, stepped down onto the brick platform once the train came to a complete halt. At least half a dozen passengers got off.
“Grandma!” one little girl called toward one of the older detraining passengers. She ran to the woman, who received her with open arms.
Falcon always watched such displays with mixed emotions. On the one hand he enjoyed seeing happy families. On the other hand, he couldn’t help thinking of his own life and the tragedies that had shaped it. His mother and father were both murdered. So, too, were his wife and children. The twins, a boy and a girl, would have been in their early twenties now, and he had no doubt that he would be a grandfather. Now he was a man alone.
No, that wasn’t true. Falcon wasn’t alone. He had friends, and siblings, a lot of siblings. Multiple births seemed to be the normal in his family. Among his siblings were the twins, Jamie Ian and Ellen Kathleen, the twins, Roseanna and Andrew, and Matthew, Morgan, and Megan, who were triplets. Falcon was one of three single births, the other two being Karen, who was murdered by bounty hunters when she was only five months old, and Jolene, who was the closest in age to Falcon. The MacCallister siblings were not only numerous, they were also a very close family. It would be good to see them all again.
Looking toward the attached stock car, he was satisfied to see Lightning being led up the ramp.
“Mr. MacCallister, it’s good to see you, sir,” the conductor said, smiling broadly. “It’s been a while since you rode with us.”
“Hello, Ralph. Yes, it has, hasn’t it?” He left unstated the explanation as to why he was riding the train. Carrying his rifle low in his left hand, Falcon passed from the front to the rear of the car. Midway to the back, he saw a very pretty woman with dark hair, deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a smooth, olive complexion sitting next to a window. She noticed him looking at her and returned his gaze with a smile.
“Ma’am,” he said, touching the brim of his hat and nodding as he continued toward the back of the car.
Falcon chose a seat that was unoccupied so he could spread out a bit. It wasn’t that he was too big to sit in one half of the seat, it was just that he found it more relaxing if he could have the entire seat to himself. Putting his rifle butt down on the floor between his knee and the wall of the car, he settled back to get comfortable for the ride.
Just as he was about to get settled in, a harried mother with a young boy came on board, a late arrival. She was holding on to the boy with one hand and carrying a bag in the other. She was unsuccessful the first time she tried to put it in the overhead rack.
“May I help?” Falcon asked, reaching for the bag.
“Why, thank you, sir. That’s very nice of you,” the mother said as Falcon lifted it easily. Then, with a nod, he retook his seat and watched as the other passengers got settled. From outside he could hear the train whistle blow, then the train started forward with a jerk.
Falcon would be on board a train for thirty-six hours with no sleeper cars on any of them. His siblings, Andrew and Roseanna, who were well-known stage performers in New York, had complained bitterly the last time they came west, because once they got off the main line, they had been unable to get sleeping berths.
Falcon had slept in the saddle, in mud-filled holes during thunderstorms, in mountain blizzards, and, during the war, under artillery barrages. The prospect of spending thirty-six hours in a padded seat in a train car was, compared to much of his life, luxurious.
As Falcon sat here, looking through the window at the passing countryside, he realized that he had not seen Mary Kate too many times in her young life. He had visited his sister when she gave birth to the baby. The next he saw her was when she was twelve years old, already a beautiful young girl with a quick mind and a good sense of humor. Edward Hamilton was in the army then, stationed at Fort Halleck, Nevada. He had just been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and, because Falcon was nearby, he was able to respond to Megan’s invitation to “wet down the leaves.” “Wet down the leaves” meant there would be a party at the Officers’ Club where drinks would be hoisted as a toast to the new colonel.
That was also the last time that all the siblings had been together, even Andrew and Roseanna. Andrew and Roseanna had put on a show, first for the officers only, then for the entire post.
“Falcon, I could certainly use you in the army,” General Fielding had told him. “I could guarantee you a commission of at least a major.”
“I appreciate the offer, General, but I don’t intend to ever wear a uniform again.”
“If you ever change your mind, let me know.”
He had gone to Fort Ellis to testify in the court-martial of Major Ackerman, and had spent a few days on the post with his sister and brother-in-law before returning to MacCallister. Mary Kate was eighteen and had fulfilled the promise she had shown when twelve of becoming a beautiful young woman.
Just before the supper meal that evening, the pretty woman with dark hair, deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a smooth, olive complexion, who had been sitting next to a window a few rows ahead of him on the same car, stepped back to his seat, then leaned over. She smiled at him.
“Pardon me, sir, I’m sure you must think this quite the boldest thing you have ever seen, but I wonder if I might prevail upon you for a favor?”
“Certainly, if it’s something I can do,” Falcon replied.
“It’s just that it is nearly time for supper. When I took my lunch in the dining car, there was a most unpleasant gentleman who made the meal most uncomfortable. I was wondering if you would take your supper with me.”
Falcon smiled, broadly, then stood. “Yes, ma’am, that is a favor I would gladly do.”
Picking up his rifle, he followed the young woman into the dining car, where they were met by one of the waiters.
“I have an empty table,” the waiter said.
Falcon, and the young lady, who said her name was Sue Roussel, followed the waiter. The waiter held the chair out for Sue, and Falcon didn’t sit down until she was seated.
Sue was on her way to Fort Laramie to get married.
“Your fiancé is a very lucky man,” Falcon said.
Sue beamed under the compliment and explained that she had met the young man while he was still a
cadet at West Point.
“I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing,” she said. “I’m still very young, and now I’m about to commit myself to one man forever without the slightest taste of what life is all about.”
“Life on an army post in the West can be most interesting,” Falcon said. “I have many friends in the military. I’m sure you will be very happy.”
“Yes,” Sue replied with just a twinge of regret in her voice. “I’m sure I will be.”
Falcon wasn’t sure where Sue had wanted that conversation to go, but he was sure where he didn’t want it to go.
“I’m going to a wedding myself,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Yes, my niece is getting married. And she grew up on army posts; her father was a colonel.”
“Was a colonel, but no longer?”
“He’s out of the army now and is a rancher.”
“Well, you must give the young lady my best wishes.”
Falcon had been on the train for thirty-six hours when it pulled into the station at Deer Lodge City. Looking out the window he saw his siblings, the triplets, Matthew, Morgan, and Megan, as well as Edward Hamilton, standing on the platform waiting for him.
Falcon glanced over at the seat where Sue Roussel had been sitting when he first boarded. She had left the train in Cheyenne, stepping down with a final and obvious invitational glance. Had conditions been otherwise, had she not been going to get married, and had he not been going to his niece’s wedding, he might have left with her. He was reminded of the passage from the Longfellow poem:
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence.
Defiance of Eagles Page 6