War Cry

by Charles G. West

  “Shit,” the corporal uttered, “that’ll be the day. You’d last about a month. Then you’d more likely be runnin’ around in the woods, eatin’ bark and briars.”

  Will chuckled at the thought. “Maybe,” he said. “We’ll see.” Possibly Kincaid’s prediction was an accurate one. He had always been a restless soul who could not tolerate any ropes that threatened to tie him down. But there came a time when a man, even one as carefree and footloose as he, became ready to give up chasing the wild hawk and think about things like family, home, and hearth. With Sarah, he could see himself as that man.

  “Gotta go,” Kincaid said when the call came to form up and prepare to march.

  The column marched due south for about ten miles before approaching darkness called for a halt. Breaking camp the next morning, they continued south until reaching the north fork of Walnut Creek, where Captain Forrest left them and turned back to the north. With scouts trailing behind and forward scouts ahead of the column, there had been no sign of hostiles. A day and a half’s march found them approaching Fort Dodge just at suppertime.

  With one thing foremost in his mind, Will was reluctant to accompany Fischer to report to regimental commander, Colonel Alfred Arnold, but the captain insisted, thinking that the scout was the only one in his command who had actually seen the Cheyenne camp. Fischer’s speculation was accurate in assuming that a punitive campaign would be in the immediate offing. After hearing the reports, and the number of warriors encountered, the colonel decided to punish the renegade Cheyenne village with the force of a full regimental assault. “We’ll give your men one full day’s rest,” he said, “and march day after tomorrow.”

  Upon arriving at the fort, the first thing Will had checked on was to make sure the lone wagon was still parked by the river. He did his best to keep it off his mind during the debriefing with the colonel, but as soon as it was over, he took his leave of the captain. He wondered if he shouldn’t take the time to clean up from the trail, but the evening was already getting thin, and he couldn’t abide the thought of waiting until tomorrow to see her. Rubbing his face with his hand, however, he decided that he should at least scrape the stubble off his face before calling on the two ladies in his life, so he took a quick detour down by the river. I wish I had some of that sweet-smelling soap, he thought as he razored the whiskers from under his chin. Running his fingers through his long hair in an attempt to at least smooth out the snarls, he also wished he owned a brush. I reckon this’ll have to do, he thought. “What are you lookin’ at?” he exclaimed to Spades when he turned to find the horse watching him with bored curiosity. Thinking again of the lateness of the hour, he stepped up in the saddle and turned Spades toward the wagon.

  As usual, Emma was the first to spot him when he rounded the tent next to the wagon. “Mama!” she screamed delightedly, “It’s Will!” She sprang up so suddenly that she knocked the camp stool over when she ran to meet him.

  “Hello, Whiskers,” he said, and dismounted to receive the child’s greeting.

  “I thought you were never coming back,” Emma complained. “Mama said you were off leading the soldiers somewhere.”

  He chuckled. “That’s right, I was,” he replied, “but you oughta known I’d be back to see you.” He started to ask where her mother was, but Sarah had heard and came out of the tent to meet him. He was stopped cold by the vision of loveliness that almost caused his heart to stop beating. She was more beautiful than the image of her face he had carried with him during the long march just completed, and he knew at that moment that he was making the right decision. A moment later, he was stunned when she was followed out of the tent by Lieutenant Braxton Bradley.

  “Will,” Sarah greeted him cordially, a warm smile upon her face. “We’re so happy to see you back safe and sound.” She offered her hand then and glanced at Lieutenant Bradley. “Braxton said that C Company had just gotten back and Emma’s been about to drive me crazy asking about you.”

  The lieutenant, who had stood silently by while the greetings were exchanged, spoke for the first time. “Cason,” he acknowledged stiffly.

  “Lieutenant,” Will replied, equally formal. He had not counted on Bradley hanging around. He had things to say to Sarah, things he was literally bursting to tell her, and he couldn’t very well say them with him standing there like a poster from the military academy.

  Noticing the bandage on his arm, Sarah expressed concern and asked if it was serious, but quickly flew to another subject when he assured her it wasn’t. “You’ll be one of the first to know,” she said, affecting a smile. “Braxton has asked me to marry him, and I’ve said yes.” She rushed on. “I know it’s a little soon, but we both feel it’s the right thing.” Her smile widened as she added, “Like Edna Boyle said, things have to happen faster out here.” She looked at her daughter, still holding Will’s other hand, and exclaimed, “And Emma’s going to have a father again.” For Braxton’s sake, she tried to appear excited over her announcement. She could not, however, avoid a feeling of apology, approaching embarrassment, when telling Will.

  He had been stunned before, even shot, but nothing in his entire life had ever struck his whole body with the impact of Sarah’s words. His veins seemed suddenly filled with a numbing cold that drained his brain of oxygen and rendered him incapable of feeling the child’s hand that he still held in his. He would remember later the arrogant expression on Bradley’s face. It was questionable if Sarah knew of his feelings for her, but the lieutenant knew. A man was quick to identify a rival for a woman’s affection.

  He wanted to run and hide someplace where his anguish could burst forth from him like an enraged mountain lion, but he fought to keep his hurt from his face. Finally trusting himself to speak, he said, “Well, I reckon congratulations are in order.” He nodded to Braxton and tried to form a smile for Sarah.

  “Where are my manners?” Sarah gushed then. “You must be hungry, Will. Can I get you some coffee? I know how much you like coffee.”

  “Ah, no, ma’am,” he forced a reply. “I’ve got to be goin’ along now. I just wanted to stop by to see if everythin’ was all right, but I can see that the lieutenant has everythin’ taken care of.” He gave Emma’s hand a little squeeze and released it. “I gotta go, Whiskers.”

  “Ah, Will,” the child complained. “Can’t you stay for a little while?”

  He just smiled down at her, then looked back at Sarah and said, “Like I said, congratulations. I’ll be goin’ now.” Before Sarah or Emma could protest further, he turned abruptly and was gone.

  He needed space, and he needed to be alone. Settling Spades into a gentle lope, he rode northeast along the Arkansas River as the first shades of night fell. How could I have been such a damn fool? he asked himself, still smarting from the humiliation he feared he had been unsuccessful in hiding. How could I have led myself to believe she cared for me—a damned wild-ass saddle tramp like me? It was difficult to determine which could be the most painful, the rejection, or the humiliation of the rejection. That slick son of a bitch, he thought, then conceded, Hell, I reckon compared to me, there really wasn’t much of a choice. At the age of twenty-seven, Will Cason was experiencing his first broken heart. It was not an easy thing for him.

  After riding far enough to put all signs of the army post behind him, he reined Spades back to a walk and entered the second stage of his heartbreak—consolation. “Well, I don’t have to worry no more about bein’ tied down to a damn farm,” he announced to his horse. “And I don’t have to worry about feedin’ a wife and child. I can ride where I please when I please.” They were all strong points that had held considerably more weight before he met Sarah Lawton. Soon to be Sarah Bradley, he thought, gritting his teeth as a result. “Damn!” he swore.

  Finally, he decided there was nothing he could do about it, so he might as well get on with the rest of his life. That settled, he realized that he needed some coffee, so he guided Spades over closer to the water and dismounted. Breaking out his
old coffeepot, he emptied out the last of the beans he had ground and soon had the pot boiling over a fire. Might as well make camp here tonight, he thought, so he unsaddled Spades and let him graze free. There was nothing left to eat in his saddlebags but a few pieces of dried jerky, but he wasn’t really hungry, anyway. So he made himself as comfortable as possible and began the first night of trying to forget Sarah Lawton, a process that would never be completely accomplished. I guess I’ll keep on working for the army, he thought. Hell, I don’t know anything else.

  Chapter 9

  When Will rode back into Fort Dodge he witnessed a bustle of activity that told him the troops were preparing for the campaign to the Smoky Hill. It came as somewhat of a surprise for him that the regiment could be ready to move this quickly. In reality, however, it was not a full-strength regiment on the move. Fort Dodge was normally a four-company post, while a full regiment was composed of ten to twelve companies. For the past four weeks, two additional companies had been assigned to the post, one of which was the regimental band, so it was more like a half regiment that was preparing to take the field.

  Riding by the stables with thoughts of getting some grain for Spades, he saw Corporal Kincaid directing a detail that appeared to be inspecting the hooves of some of the horses. Will steered Spades over to speak to his friend. “I thought you boys were goin’ to get a day’s rest before you got ready to go,” he said.

  “Huh,” Kincaid grunted. “So did I, but it didn’t surprise me none. I been in the army long enough to know better’n to count on somethin’ an officer says when it comes to benefitin’ the enlisted men.”

  “Sounds like treasonous talk to me. Maybe I’d better detail a firing squad.” They both turned to see where the voice had come from and found Lieutenant Bordeaux rounding the corner of the stable, a wide smile across his pudgy face.

  “Well, hell,” Kincaid replied, knowing the lieutenant was joking, “he did say we was to get a day’s rest.”

  Bordeaux shrugged. “It takes a little longer to get a whole regiment on the road, and I reckon he’s eager to get moving before the Cheyenne decide to leave the Smoky Hill.” He glanced at Will then. “Did you see the colonel yet? He’s been lookin’ for you.”

  “What for?” Will replied. He didn’t as a rule have much direct contact with the regimental commander.

  “I guess he wants to make sure you’re gonna be ready to go with us,” Bordeaux said. “I think Captain Fischer sang your praises so loud that he’s got the colonel thinkin’ you’re the only man who can find the Indians.”

  “Is that a fact?” Will responded without emotion. He might have been pleased by the praise had his mind not been dwelling upon more sober subjects.

  Kincaid glanced at Will, remembering all his talk about quitting the business of scouting. “You plannin’ on goin’ on this little tea party?” he asked.

  “Well, I don’t have no other plans right now,” Will said, “so I reckon I am.”

  “You might wanna go see the colonel,” Bordeaux reminded.

  “I reckon,” Will replied. “I planned on stealin’ some of the army’s grain for my horse first. He ain’t had much but grass for a while.” He left his two friends then, and after securing a sack of oats to his saddle, he turned Spades toward the headquarters building.

  Passing the barracks that housed F Company, Will was hailed by a mounted officer who had been overseeing a work detail. He turned to recognize Lieutenant Braxton Bradley coming toward him. “Cason,” Bradley called out again, “a moment.”

  Will reined Spades to a halt and waited for the lieutenant to catch up to him. The very sight of him caused the blood in his veins to simmer, even though he tried to tell himself that Bradley could not be blamed for courting Sarah. He had to admit to himself that it amounted to a simple case of jealousy on his part. Determined to be as civil as he could, however, he said, “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

  “I just wanted a word with you,” Bradley replied. “Sarah is extremely grateful for your part in saving her and Emma from that Cheyenne war party. It’s certainly natural that she feels kindly toward you. Any woman in like circumstance would. And, of course, I am grateful, too, for saving the woman I am going to marry. I’m sure Sarah has told you we plan to marry as soon as the regiment returns from this action against the Cheyenne.” Will was puzzled by the lieutenant’s comments, not sure why Bradley was telling him this. There had been no occasion for Sarah to tell him when her wedding was planned. The lieutenant continued. “In view of this, I think it would be a good idea if you did not call on the lady and her daughter. I’m sure you can appreciate the awkward position it places Sarah in, and she is too kindhearted to tell you this herself. It’s confusing to the child as well, and I want Emma to know that I will be her father. It’s important that she sees that right away, and I don’t think it a good idea for you to assume an uncle’s role either. It’s just best that you stay away from Sarah and Emma. I’m sure you can see the harm that could be done.”

  Will was taken aback by the lieutenant’s request. In fact, it went beyond a request. He was being told to stay in his place, scolded like a servant or a school-boy. He immediately felt his blood come to a boil and his fists tightened on the reins as he stared into Bradley’s face, a face expressionless except for bored indifference. Astonished by the lieutenant’s frank notice to him, Will hesitated a moment before responding. “Well, Lieutenant, I gotta admit, you’ve got all the gall an officer’s supposed to have, and there ain’t no mistakin’ where you stand.” He paused a moment before continuing very slowly so the lieutenant clearly heard his response. “As far as I’m concerned, you can kiss my ass.” Bradley’s head jerked back as if he had been slapped, unaccustomed as he was to being spoken to in that tone. Will went on. “I’ll let Sarah and Emma decide whether or not they wanna see me. And if they do, I’ll come a’runnin’. Hell, I’ve known both of ’em longer’n you have.”

  Bradley backed his horse away, aghast that a lowly scout dared talk to him that way. Unable to think of a proper retort, his face flushed red, he blurted, “You’ve been warned, sir!” With that, he wheeled his dark Morgan gelding and returned to his company.

  Will sat there, watching the arrogant young officer as he galloped away. What in hell does Sarah want a pompous ass like that for? he asked himself. “I’ve been warned,” he repeated. “Wonder what he meant by that.” If it’s satisfaction he wants, I hope it’s with fists. I’d enjoy bradding that aristocratic nose of his to his upper lip. He remained sitting there for a few seconds while he calmed down, then said to himself, I guess I’ll get my lower-class ass over to see what the colonel wants.

  There was little doubt what the regimental commander wanted from Will, and as was customary with officers of that rank, it didn’t come as a request. “Cason, are you always this hard to track down?” he asked when Will was shown into his office.

  “Sometimes,” Will answered indifferently. “I reckon it depends on who’s lookin’ for me.”

  “The regiment will be moving out of here in the morning and I want to make sure you’re ready to go. I want to find that Cheyenne village as soon as possible before they scatter to the winds, so I need you in advance of the column.”

  Will shrugged. “I planned on goin’ with you, but, hell, anybody can find that village. Just follow the Smoky Hill west and you can hardly miss it.”

  The colonel fixed his unblinking gaze directly on Will’s eyes when he replied. “I want you there.” He understood Will’s comment, but he was not willing to chance any failure of this opportunity to crush a sizable band of hostiles who refused to go to the reservation. If, as he had been told, Cason was the best, then he wanted to make sure he went with the column.

  “I’ll be there,” Will replied, with no hint of enthusiasm. In his present mental state, he really didn’t give a damn where he found himself in the next few days. After leaving the orderly room, however, he had a change in attitude, deciding that he would rather be b
y himself out on the prairie, so maybe this scouting trip might be the best thing for him.

  Satisfied that he had everything he needed for the campaign after he drew extra cartridges for his rifle, Will went to the sutler’s store for the purpose of buying needle and thread to repair the tear in his shirtsleeve left there by the warrior’s knife. He had washed the shirt thoroughly, but the bloodstains never came completely out. However, since it was his best shirt, he couldn’t afford to throw it away. While standing at the counter, he heard the door open behind him and the sound of lighthearted conversation. He turned to see Sarah, Emma, and Braxton Bradley entering the store. “Will!” Emma exclaimed and immediately ran to him.

  “Hello, Whiskers,” he said, patting the little girl on the head as she locked her arms around his leg.

  “Will,” Sarah greeted him, “I’m glad we got to see you before you all go off to find the Indians tomorrow.” Will made no reply, smiling at her and nodding. He glanced at Bradley and almost laughed when he saw the expression of resentment on the lieutenant’s face. “Looks like you’re planning to do some sewing,” Sarah continued.

  He looked down at the pack of needles and the spool of thread he had forgotten he had been holding. “Yeah, I’m gonna see if I can sew up this tear in my shirt,” he replied.

  “I can sew,” Emma immediately piped up. “Can’t I, Mama?” Not waiting for her mother to answer, she said, “I’ll sew it up for you.”

  “I bet you can,” Will said, “but I wouldn’t wanna trouble you with such a small job.” He couldn’t help but be amused by Bradley’s painful expression as if he had just eaten meat that had turned bad. Will could imagine how steamed up the lieutenant was becoming while hesitating to say anything in Sarah’s presence. To make matters worse for him, Sarah took control of the situation.

  “Here, I’ll sew it up for you,” she insisted. “I can do it right now.” She held out her hand for the needles and thread, ignoring Will’s insistence that he would take care of it himself. Emma protested, but Sarah told her that the job needed to be done quickly. “I have some things back in the wagon that you can practice on,” she said.