“They raised her,” Harris replies and stands to finish packing.
“Girl?” Janie asks with a frown. “Is someone in trouble?”
“Yes, I have a family situation. Thank you for the food, could you please tell Steven I had a family emergency, and I had to leave. He needs to see to our patients.” Harris walks her to the door opening it for her, leaving no room for small talk.
“Of course,” she hurries to find Steven, slamming the door on her way out.
Harris grabs his winter duster and pulls it on, before turning to the door. Time is of the essence. Kimani will have been alone for seven days at best before he gets to her. With her wounds, he isn’t sure what kind of condition she will be in. Her beautiful smile flashes in his mind, and he picks up his pace. Slamming a hat on his head, he lifts his supplies and heads to the livery to secure a second horse. Every second that passes feels like an hour. Even stopping to send a telegram to his brother, Chase, is a test in patience. Chase is the Sheriff of their hometown, but he used to be a U.S. Marshall. He can investigate General Barclay and the assault.
At least the snow is slowing down as he rides out of town. He can only pray that it’s a blizzard where she is, just to buy him some time to get to Kimani and slow down the trackers.
Chapter 11
General Barclay is sitting at his large mahogany desk studying a map when the knock comes. He quickly folds it up and places it inside the drawer before calling out.
“Come in.”
Steven enters with a pinched expression on his face.
“Dr. Ellis, what are you doing here?” He frowns.
“General Barclay, I thought you should know that we have a patient who has been talking about an Indian massacre and guns.”
“Damnit Ellis, what does that matter? Kill him and be done with it!” He pulls the map out and begins writing on it, dismissing the Doctor.
“Already done, but you said the weapons wouldn’t be traced back to us.”
“What weapons, Dr. Ellis?” Barclay grins and stares at the Doctor daring him to say something else.
“Right.” Fear has him turning back to the door, but he stops and turns around, clearing his throat.
“One more thing, General. Dr. Harris Rivers left this evening. Something about a family emergency, but our patient claimed that he grew really agitated when he told him about a green-eyed Indian girl.”
His eyes narrow and he stands up slowly, drawing an envelope from the drawer. “Why does this girl keep causing so much trouble? Harris isn’t a problem. He has a soft spot for Indians. If I remember correctly, he actually treated Indians and soldiers during the war.” Walking swiftly to the door he hands Steven the envelope.
“I understand, I thought you’d want to know.”
“Thank you, Dr. Ellis. Our next shipment is leaving tonight on the train. I need this to go as planned. This is the final delivery of Gatling guns that we need.” He watches Dr. Ellis open the envelope and check the cash.
“No problem, I’ll see to it.” Dr. Ellis leaves quickly, heading towards the train yard to make sure the two Gatling guns, ten cases of U.S. army rifles and shot are loaded in the rail cars.
Killing the soldier was not difficult. He was dying, and Steven decided it was a kindness to put him down. The surprise in Simon’s eyes almost made him laugh. He suffocated him, and he didn’t even fight back.
Walking to the railyard, he oversees the cases being loaded. It’s a shame to waste such high-quality weapons, and two Gatling guns, but he has no qualms about his cause. The land needs to be cleansed. His eyes narrow as he remembers coming home to find his wife and son scalped. He presses his hands to his temples and squeezes as he tells himself to block it out.
“No, no, not now…” he murmurs. A shout reminds him where he’s standing, and he turns to find a certain Widow who has a thing for doctors. He is whistling when he walks away.
General Barclay stares at the map and traces a finger down the railroad line. “The train will be leaving as soon as the snow stops. It will be hit by Indians, and more guns will be stolen. It only helped our cause that the Shoshone were raiding and taking weapons anyway. Too bad they didn’t know how to use them. This time it will be… which tribe?” He glances up at the eight men standing around him and waits.
“Sioux?” Barclay asks.
“Does it matter?” A burst of laughter ripples through the group.
“No. The Shoshone are decimated. Whoever is left will run North, to the proposed reservations. The next largest tribes should be our target.”
“General, all joking aside, there is talk that the Sioux and Cherokee are joining together to fight back.” Wallace Morgan points at the map outside of Fort Caspar. “Look what they did to Fort Caspar. It has been abandoned for two years since the massacre.”
“Exactly, Wallace, they were unprepared. All the Forts need more soldiers, more weapons and more people willing to do whatever it takes to get the work done.”
Murmurs of approval flow through the group. “Any news on the Senators agreeing to support the cause?” Wallace asks.
“No, and that’s why I’ll be leaving to take the news to them directly.” General Barclay replies, “I will present multiple eyewitnesses to the massacre of the city of? What’s this one called?”
“Worland, its population is about three hundred and fifty civilians. With the railroad head, it’s a growing town. They won’t be expecting the
