War Cry

by Charles G. West

  On her way toward the back room after the corporal, Lula heard Will’s remark and stopped. “Don’t leave till I get done here, Will. I won’t be long and we can have a drink.”

  “Damn you, bitch!” the soldier cursed, still smarting from her obvious distain for him when Will walked in. “I told you to get your fat ass in that room!” He grabbed the back of her dress, ripping it as he jerked her toward the door and causing her to stumble over a chair.

  “All right, soldier!” Mickey exclaimed. “I ain’t gonna stand for that kinda roughhousin’ in my place.”

  Will walked over and helped Lula to her feet. “You all right?” he asked.

  “Hell, yes,” she replied indignantly, her face flushed with the combination of anger and alcohol. Then she turned and spat at the corporal, “But you can get your sorry ass outta here. I wouldn’t lay down for you for a hundred dollars.”

  “Why, you cheatin’, double-dealin’ bitch,” the corporal yelled, and started toward her.

  Stepping between them, Will confronted the infuriated soldier. “Just hold it right there, Corporal. This little misunderstandin’ is over, so there ain’t no need to go any further with it. The lady has changed her mind about takin’ your money, so you’d best go on back to your barracks and sleep off some of that whiskey.”

  This had the effect of throwing kerosene on a red-hot stove. “Why, you son of a bitch!” he roared. “This ain’t none of your business, and I’ll break your damn back for you if you don’t get outta my face.” A husky man, he drew back his fist and launched a wild punch at Will.

  Will quickly stepped back out of range, easily avoiding the punch. “I wish to hell you hadn’t done that,” he said calmly. “Now I reckon it is my business.” Like a crazed bull, the corporal put his head down and charged, catching Will in the midsection and driving him up against the wall of the tent. It took Will a few minutes to figure the corporal out. His fighting style was to simply keep his head down and blindly throw lefts and rights, most of them landing on Will’s stomach and chest. It was frustrating at first because the only targets for Will’s retaliation was the soldier’s back and the back of his head, which Will was not eager to break his knuckles on. And the soldier pressed so close upon him while swinging away with his fists that Will had no room to land any blows that might have effect. Finally he straightened him up with a firm knee to his chin. Then, before the corporal could get back in his turtle shell defense, Will staggered him with a series of punches to his jaw. Trying desperately to keep from losing his feet, the soldier fell against the bar, where Mickey ended the fight with a sharp blow to the back of his head with a three-foot piece of timber he had fashioned into a club. The corporal slumped to the floor, out cold.

  “Damn!” Will exclaimed, breathless. “That boy’s a handful.”

  Mickey came from behind the bar and together they dragged the corporal out of the saloon and left him on the ground where the hot summer sun could boil some of the alcohol out of him. Lula was waiting for them when they came back inside. “I guess I owe you a free ride,” the dowdy prostitute said to Will, “for defending my honor with that bastard.”

  At a loss for a few seconds, Will tried to reply in some way that would not hurt her feelings. In truth, he would have reacted the same if the corporal had abused a stray dog. He settled for a lie. “That’s mighty nice of you, Lula, darlin’—and hard for me to pass up—but I’m already late to report to the colonel and I’d best be on my way before he sends somebody to look for me.” The look of disappointment on her face was unmistakable. “Workin’ for the army sure takes up a man’s free time,” he added weakly. Wasting no more time, he said so long to Mickey and was immediately out the door, leaving a perplexed Lula to wonder if the conquest was hopeless.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing,” she murmured to herself woefully. Her despair lasted for no more than a few seconds, however, before her practical mind returned to business. Dismissing it with a sigh, she took a dipper of water from the bucket behind the bar and went outside to kneel down beside the corporal, who was just in the process of recovering his senses. “Here, darlin’,” she cooed. “Take a drink of this cool water. Come on inside and let me clean some of the blood off your face. Then you can have your ride.” Three dollars is three dollars, she thought. No sense in letting him spend it on whiskey.

  It was almost dusk when Will rode into Fort Dodge. He guided Spades straight to headquarters to deliver his dispatches, but his mind was firmly concentrating on the lone wagon parked in the trees near the riverbank. Something new had been added, a tent the size of those used by officers in the field. Will was pleased to see that the army was making it as comfortable as possible for Sarah and Emma.

  As quickly as he could, he gave the dispatches to the duty sergeant, who said he would give them to the officer of the day as soon as he returned from touring the guard posts. Will told him that he would check in later to see if there was anything going back to Camp Supply. “I ain’t goin’ anyplace before mornin’, anyway.”

  His business for the army taken care of, he then headed straight for Sarah’s wagon. On the way, he quickly tried to think about what he would say to her. Having finally given up on trying to convince himself that he had no serious thoughts toward Sarah, he spent almost the entire journey from Camp Supply deciding if he should tell her. Everything he had rehearsed on the ride had suddenly flown from his mind. But one thing he was sure of was his desire to marry Sarah Lawton. For a man who had wandered aimlessly all his life, there was now this one certainty. He had told himself that it was maybe a little too early in their relationship, but the more he thought about it, the more sensible arrangement it seemed to be for all three parties. He was ready to change his aimless free- roving lifestyle. She needed someone to take care of her. And he was certain Emma would heartily approve.

  He was determined to express his feelings for her and her daughter, but he didn’t want to be too bold since she had been a widow for such a short time. I know it ain’t been long since your husband died, he rehearsed . But you need someone to take care of you, and things just happen a lot quicker out here on the frontier. They have to. There’s too much to take care of—Indians, drought, bad weather—you need a man, Emma needs a father. He shook his head, dissatisfied. “I’ll just tell her what’s in my heart,” he said to Spades. “It might be too soon to even think about it, but she needs to know what I’m thinkin’, and I’m willin’ to wait for her to decide.”

  Approaching the wagon, he could see the glow of a fire beyond it in the early twilight. A cup of coffee wouldn’t go bad right now, he thought as his heart quickened in anticipation of seeing her again. Within a dozen yards now, he called out, “Hello, the wagon!”

  A small head peered around the tailgate of the wagon. “Will!” Emma cried out in excitement. Within seconds, she was running to meet him, laughing delightedly. He leaned over in the saddle and reached down to scoop her up. With her arms locked tightly around his neck, she exclaimed, “I knew you’d come back.”

  “Nothin’ coulda kept me away, Whiskers,” he assured her, knowing now that the statement could not be any more sincere than it was with the little girl in his arms. “Where’s your mama?” he asked.

  “On the other side of the wagon,” Emma replied. “She’ll be glad to see you!”

  With a feeling that he was coming home, he guided Spades around the wagon and the tent next to it, where he found Sarah seated beside the fire on an army camp stool. The moment of joy he anticipated was drowned in a flash by the sight of a young officer sitting with her, drinking coffee.

  Surprised and not quite certain what her feelings were at that moment, Sarah rose from the stool to greet her visitor. “Will,” she said, speaking slowly in an effort to hide her embarrassment, although she could not justify any reason for embarrassment, “you came back. We were just having coffee.” She turned to the officer briefly. “This is the man who rescued Emma and me,” she said. “Will, this is Lieutena
nt Bradley.”

  Still in the saddle with Emma wrapped around his neck, Will was stunned and fighting hard not to show it. “Lieutenant,” he heard himself say, “Will Cason.”

  The lieutenant rose and walked over to extend his hand. “Braxton Bradley,” he stated confidently. Will shifted Emma around in order to shake Bradley’s hand. “Would you care to step down and join us for coffee?” the lieutenant invited, then turned to give Sarah a questioning look.

  “Yes, Will,” she quickly responded. “Join us for coffee.” She could not rid her conscience of thoughts of guilt for no other reason than she had allowed herself to think about Will Cason many times since he had gone.

  Impatient with the apparent lull in conversation, Emma gave Will’s hand a squeeze. “We got a tent!” she exclaimed. “It’s almost like living in a house.”

  Tearing his gaze away from Sarah, Will looked down into the precocious child’s face. “I see you do,” he replied. There was little doubt in his mind now as to where the tent and the camp stools had come from. Not only did Bradley look young and fit, he was handsome to boot, and Will had a sinking feeling that he was a fool to have entertained the slightest notion of wooing Sarah Lawton. At that moment, he had an urgent desire to run. “Uh, thank you just the same,” he replied to the invitation, “but I expect I’ll be gettin’ along. I just wanted to see if you folks were all right.”

  “Ahh, Will,” Emma whined in disappointment as he unlocked her arms from his neck and lowered her gently to the ground.

  “I have to go, Whiskers. I’ve got things to do,” he told her. “I’ll come back to see you sometime when your ma ain’t entertainin’ company.” He forced a smile for her. “You make sure you take care of your ma, now.”

  Although he tried to disguise it, it was fairly obvious to Sarah how disappointed he was, and she was astute enough to know that his embarrassment was due to certain feelings for her that ran deeper than concern for her welfare. She owed Will Cason her life and the life of her daughter, and she could not deny having considered what it would be like to always have him. It pained her now to see him hurt. “Please, Will,” she said, “won’t you stay and have some coffee?”

  “No, thank you, Sarah. I’m kinda short on time. I’ll drop by next time I’m around.”

  “You’re always welcome,” she said. “Emma can’t talk about you enough.”

  He smiled. “She’s a special little lady. I’ll try to come see her again.” With nothing more to say, he politely touched a finger to the brim of his hat, nudged Spades with his heels, and rode off into the fading light.

  Ain’t that a helluva note, he thought. You damn fool. Lula’s more your speed. He nudged Spades a little more firmly than usual, and misunderstanding, the bay gelding broke immediately into a gallop, causing Will to pull gently back on the reins. Knowing he could find a cot in the infantry barracks, he nevertheless guided Spades down along the riverbank, preferring his own company. Intent upon putting some distance between his camp and the army post, he continued until he was sure he couldn’t hear the noises of the fort. As he rode, he tried to recall the scene at Sarah’s campfire in detail. Maybe it wasn’t as it seemed to him at the time. The lieutenant may have been merely making a courtesy call, maybe even under orders from the colonel. Maybe I’ll stop by in the morning.

  It was difficult to sleep that night. He couldn’t seem to turn his mind off, or prevent his thoughts from returning to Sarah. Could he have been so wrong? His instincts were usually reliable, but serious thoughts had never been spent on a woman before, and the possibility that he might one day marry had never occurred to him—until Sarah. It seemed a natural union with Sarah and Emma, and his senses had told him that she might be thinking the same way. It was a troubling time for him, and it was not until the wee hours of the morning that he finally fell asleep.

  Riding back to the post the next morning, he was surprised to see an unusual amount of activity. The bugler sounded assembly and it appeared a company-sized detail was already in the process of shaping up and falling into formation on the parade ground. Something was going on and he decided he’d better see what it was. When he walked into the orderly room, Sergeant-Major Boyle greeted him with, “Where the hell have you been? I sent somebody lookin’ for you an hour ago.”

  “Well, I reckon they didn’t look in the right place,” Will returned without emotion. “What’s goin’ on?”

  Boyle explained that a rider had arrived at dawn carrying the news of an attack on a military scouting expedition near Pawnee Creek, not far from Fort Larned, another brazen raid close to an army post. The rider, a private, had made his way through the surrounding Cheyenne warriors, but was faced with a second band of warriors between him and Fort Larned. So he rode all night to get to Dodge. “C Company is saddlin’ up to go hunt for the raiders. I told Captain Fischer that you knew that country between here and Pawnee Fork better’n anybody I knew, so get your ass ready to go,” Boyle said.

  “I’m as ready as I reckon I’ll get,” Will replied, “but Ben Clarke is probably gonna be lookin’ for me to get back to Supply.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Boyle said. “I’ll take care of Ben Clarke. We’ll most likely have somebody headin’ over that way in the next day or two. You’d best get on out there and report to Captain Fischer.”

  “All right,” Will said, and walked out the door. He found Fischer talking to his officers, one of whom was his friend, Lieutenant Bordeaux.

  The lieutenant broke out a wide grin as soon as he saw Will approaching. “Relax, boys,” he joked, “we’re gonna be all right now.”

  Fischer, a serious man, and one not familiar with Will, turned to cast a scrutinizing gaze upon the easy-riding scout on the bay horse. Cason had been highly recommended by Sergeant-Major Boyle, but the captain had expected to see an older man. He frowned and continued to stare as Will pulled Spades to a halt before the circle of officers. With a grin and a nod, he gestured to Bordeaux. Following the gesture, Fischer glanced at Bordeaux, then returned his gaze to greet Will. “You’re Cason?”

  “Yes, sir,” Will replied.

  “I’ve got good scouts, but Sergeant-Major Boyle tells me you know the country better than most between here and Pawnee Creek,” Fischer said. “I hope he’s right.” He nodded toward the lieutenant standing just to his right and said, “Lieutenant Gates is responsible for the scouts. You can report to him when we’re finished here.”

  Will glanced at the officer indicated and nodded. Lieutenant Gates was a thin man with dark brown hair and a drooping mustache that just touched either side of his chin. “How soon are you gonna pull out?” Will asked.

  “Inside thirty minutes,” Fischer answered before Gates could respond. “So be ready to ride.”

  “Right,” Will said, meeting the captain’s unblinking gaze. Looking back at Gates, he said, “I’ve got just one little chore I’ve got to do and I’ll be ready.” Not waiting for any word of permission from Gates or the captain, he turned Spades and headed across the parade ground, toward the lone wagon by the river. The possibility of a fight with Indians was not enough to take his mind from the visit he had decided to make the night before. Lieutenant Braxton Bradley was apparently assigned to another company since he was not among the group of officers surrounding Captain Fischer. Will was not sure whether that was good or bad. He wasn’t eager to campaign with the lieutenant, but he wondered if he’d rather have him in the field with him instead of here with Sarah.

  “Howdy, Will.” The voice came from a group of soldiers standing near the officers.

  He turned to discover the smiling face of Corporal Kincaid. With a wide grin he replied, “Damn, Kincaid, is that you?” He paused then to shake the corporal’s hand. “I’ll talk to you a little later. I’ve got a chore I’ve gotta do before we move out.”

  Kincaid stood watching him as he rode across the parade ground, headed for the lone wagon by the river. It was not difficult to put two and two together, and a wry smile slo
wly spread across Kincaid’s face.

  She was standing before the fire with a coffee cup in her hand when he rounded the corner of the tent. Emma saw him first, however, and ran to meet him. He climbed down from the saddle and the little girl took his hand and led him to the fire, beaming at her mother as if to say I told you so. Sarah put her cup down and went to meet him. Smiling warmly, she extended her hand to him. He grasped it with his left hand since Emma had no intention of surrendering his right. “I was just having one more cup of coffee before I went down to the river to wash some of our things,” Sarah said. “I’m sure there’s a cup left in the pot.”

  “That would go mighty good right now,” he said. “I haven’t had any this mornin’.” He didn’t tell her that it was due to his late rising, the result of a near sleepless night. “I don’t have but a minute or two. I got snagged by the sergeant-major to go out with C Company and they’re about ready to leave now.”

  She got another cup while Emma was busy complaining about his short visits. Handing him the coffee, she said, “Will, I’m so glad you stopped by this morning. I was afraid I had seemed a little rude last night. You know you’ll always be welcome to visit Emma and me.”

  “Think nothin’ of it,” Will replied. “I didn’t wanna just barge in on your party.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said with a chuckle. “It wasn’t a party. Braxton had just brought over these stools and I made some coffee for him.”

  Feeling better about the situation already, he gulped his coffee down. “I wish I had more time to visit. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone on this scout—might be a while—but I’ll come back to see you as soon as I can—if that’s all right.”

  “Of course it’s all right,” she quickly replied, walking him to his horse.