“I’m done, Frank. I’m tired, and I don’t want to do it. Do you know there are parts of this country where I can go and not see anyone for months? Months. That sounds good to me. Real good.”
At that moment, the door to the office swung open, and the girl that had been waiting outside strode into the office. She offered her hand to an astonished Colonel Bonham. “I’m Katherine Stephens. Call me Katie.”
“Hello, again.” Her voice smoothed out, became soft and throaty. She had changed into different clothes, jeans and shirt, and he was right about her hair. It fell to her waist She reached out and softly caressed his side. “How’s the wound?”
He felt heat start at his collar and work its way upward, as Frank looked suspiciously between the two of them. “I decided to call you Katherine.”
Katie looked at him, momentarily nonplussed. Regaining her composure, she turned back to the man behind the desk. “Colonel, I need to talk to you.”
“Please, have a seat.” The two men looked quizzically at each other, shrugging their shoulders.
“I couldn’t help overhearing you mention Big Springs. That’s where I am from.” It looked like she was getting ready to launch a long story, so Trent found another chair, turned it around backwards so he could lean his forearms on the back, thumbed his hat back off his forehead, and settled in. Even if he didn’t like the story, he could always just watch the girl.
“I have some pack animals with supplies that I need to get to Big Springs. I had hoped to hire some men to help, but so far haven’t found anyone I’d trust. Colonel, I need an escort.”
“You realize, Ms. Stephens, we are not in the business of escorting settlers around the country.” Colonel Bonham had regained his patience.
“I know that, colonel. I also know you are sending out training patrols for your Green Jeans.”
The colonel grimaced at the analogy.
“It would be a simple matter for you to send a squad along as a training mission.” She turned her persuasive eyes on the colonel and smiled.
Trent sat with the chair tilted back on two legs, grinning at Frank, enjoying his discomfort. The man looked like he wanted to take up field work again. Soon.
“How did you know that?”
“There are not many secrets around here, Colonel.” She turned and faced Trent. “And now for you, Mister Trent.” At her intensity he nearly lost his balance on the teetering chair. “You told the colonel you wouldn’t take the job of Marshal?”
At Trent’s cautious nod she continued. Her voice was soft and insistent, harboring a sudden, deeply suppressed, anger. “Have you forgotten the body of the girl you found? Remember Markie? Is your memory so short? Who’s going to right that wrong? Who will find the person that could do that kind of thing, and then disappear into thin air? Who?”
She paused for breath, scooting her chair around to face him. She placed her hands on his knees, her gaze intent on his face. “I’ve been asking around, talking to folks. People will talk to you, John. People from both sides. They know and respect you. They’ll listen to you. No one else but you could walk into a raider camp and come out alive. The settlers that are left, out in the frontier, need you.”
“It’ll be dangerous.” Frank, ever the tactician, sensed an advantage and teamed up with the girl. “There won’t be any courts out there and no military backup. Just you and that damned six-gun you like to wear. You could take your time, John. Weed it out, get the right of it, and then don’t waste my time with reports. Any action taken will be by you, on your own authority. Do you understand that, John? Do what needs to be done.”
Trent read a story once about the old Texas Rangers. One crisis—one ranger. Maybe it was the way. “I always have, Frank.” He turned to Katie. “What makes you think people are ready for the law?”
She answered promptly. “Because that’s what makes a community work. Rules. So people don’t step all over each other.”
He stared at both of them momentarily, thinking he’d finally gone insane. “All right. I’ll do it. However, understand this. I’ll do it my way.” He looked at Katie. “I was going back anyway, Katherine. That’s one wrong I intend to right.”
The two men shook hands, their eyes lingering on each other. Each knew the risks and the dangers. The handshake was a long embrace between two friends.
Frank sat back in his chair, studying the situation. “All right, here’s the deal, young lady. You get a squad. They’ll take you as near as possible to Big Springs, then return here. You’re lucky one of our more seasoned noncoms is in camp.” He paused for effect. “You’ll also get our Number One US Marshal as scout for the trip.”
The chair legs hit the floor with a sharp bang. “Frank.”
“What better way for you to get into the area?”
Katie rose from her chair, a pleased look on her face. “We leave in the morning.” She looked pointedly at Trent. “First light.”
Frank was shaking his head. “How old are you, Ms. Stephens? Aren’t you kind of young to be running around the forest alone?”
“How old do you have to be?” She paused, holding each of their eyes for a moment, and then quietly closed the door on her way out.
“Wow.” Frank’s voice was admiring.
Trent cocked his head. “I think we’ve been had, and it only took her about thirty seconds.”
“No shit. But it was kinda fun.” He raised his hand as Trent started to leave. He cleared his throat. “Son, we need to talk….”
He turned. Frank’s voice had changed. And the only time Frank had ever called him son was when his daughter was killed.
Whatever this was, it wouldn’t be good.
4
The sun was setting in a golden hue, behind silver rimmed clouds looming in the west. A breeze had found the grassy knoll that stood sentinel duty above the mass graveyard in the field below. John Trent hadn’t wanted to bury his young wife in the common graves, so he’d picked a quiet place that was surrounded with boulders and trees, and had a thick carpet of grass and prairie flowers. He laid her to rest over a year ago.
Now, finally, he knew the truth about how she died.
He’d just started to leave, when he heard footsteps behind him. “Katherine.”
“You got good ears.”
He shook his head. “You walk soft enough.”
She moved around to the other side of the grave, sitting on a chair-sized rock and gazing intently at him. Finally, she asked. “Did you love her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. We were young. We needed each other. That was enough for us. She didn’t deserve what she got.”
“You blame yourself.”
“If I’d been there, it wouldn’t have happened.” His shoulders slumped with a force he didn’t know if he could lift.
“You can’t know that. Look at me, John.” When he didn’t respond, she upped the ante. “Please?”
Trent forced himself to meet her gaze.
“Women aren’t helpless. We’re not all fancy playthings in lace and bows that have to be protected all the time. Some of us actually do things by ourselves, with no help from anyone else. Sometimes we have to stay by ourselves. It’s been that way since the first farmer took his wife west to the Promised Land. It’ll be that way until the end of the earth. So, it’s nonsense to think that you are to blame. The only one to blame is the one who did it.”
“Did I tell you she was the colonel’s daughter?”
She sounded confused, with a small dash of concerned. “No. You skipped that part. Does it make a difference?”
“He was the one who found her.”
“Okay—and?”
“He just told me she died like the girl we found in the clearing.”