Vanessa watches for him and asks him to drop them on the chair inside. “Billy, can you tell me how far the Fort is from Riverton?”
“I think it’s about three days, by horse, but you don’t need to go that far. Riverton has everything you need, even a bakery. It’s my favorite.”
“What about a railroad?”
“Yep. Riverton has a railroad too.”
“You go do your chores now, thank you for your help. I’ll make sure to visit the bakery when I’m there.” She smiles as he leaves.
After searching the saddlebags, she finds a wallet stashed inside and is shocked to find twenty-five dollars. “Yes.” Tucking the wallet in her canvas bag, she packs the clothes the ladies gave her along with an extra pair of boots. She stashes everything under her bed and lays down to give her body a break. The years spent with the Rivers every summer is paying off. They taught her English, etiquette and basic skills, like sewing, reading, and other things the women thought useful. The last time she went was the summer she found out that Harris had married. Her sixteen-year-old heart was broken. He didn’t know she had a crush on him. Harris was eight years older than her. It was only right that he should marry, though at the time she didn’t think so. Mitema understood when she told her, and they didn’t force the summer visits after that. Though she missed them, it was easier to put space between them.
“Enough, time to sleep.”
Chapter 17
General Barclay walks through his hotel suite to the liquor cabinet and pours a whiskey into a glass tumbler. He sniffs it and swirls it in the glass before sipping.
“That smells odd,” he frowns and lifts the decanter to look at the honey color.
“It’s not his fault, General.” The glass shatters on the wooden floor even as the General whips around with his pistol pointed at his uninvited guest.
“Craig! What the hell are you doing in my room?” he barks.
Craig points to the couch, with his revolver, revealing the source of the smell for the first time. Evan’s grey body has stiffened with rigor mortis, and he lays at an odd angle, wrapped in a stained tarp.
“It took him two days to die, General, and it wasn’t a natural death. She escaped, I had to take care of Evan.”
General Barclay stares into the eyes of madness and treads carefully. “I’m so sorry to hear that. He was a true patriot. We will give him a burial worthy of his service.” He holsters his pistol before grabbing two more glasses and pours whiskey, offering Craig one.
“A toast to a life, well-lived.”
“Thank you, General,” Craig sniffs back tears and shoots the whiskey before standing up. “I knew you’d take care of him. I’m going after her. Bitch has to pay for killing my brother.”
General Barclay looks at Craig’s appearance. His face is torn up with odd cuts, his clothes are filthy, and he limps to the door. “Excellent, I can send help with you.”
“No, she’s mine!” He screams, “The bitch laughed at me and shot him in the stomach,” spittle flies and he throws the glass against the wall, clutching his head.
The General jumps and shuts his eyes against the rain of glass. “I understand, I understand.”
Craig walks closer to the General bringing the scent of trail and madness with him. “She laid traps for us like we were some kind of animals.”
“Indians are a disease spreading across this land. That’s why my work is so important, Craig. You must stop her. I can’t have any witnesses. Start looking for Dr. Harris Rivers. He’ll leave an easier trail, and I heard that he’s looking for her too. Kill them both. I’m leaving for Washington in two days. This needs to be taken care of Craig. No Witnesses.”
“You keep your promise to care for Evan, and I’ll bring you both their scalps. The rest of the parts is mine,” he snarls.
“Of course,” he pulls out his wallet and draws cash out, handing it to Craig. “Go eat, sleep, and get the supplies you need before you leave. There are three small towns between the Snake River and us. I’d start there. Dr. Rivers will need to refresh his supplies and horse sometime.”
“Thank you,” he glances at Evan and leaves as silently as he came.
Barclay walks to the window of his hotel suite and waits until he sees Craig leave before ringing his bell. “Something has to be done before this gets out of hand.” He’s ready when the knock comes at the door.
“I need the undertaker, I’ve had an unexpected guest,” he gestures to the couch.
“Of course, General,” the man says covering his nose with his hand. “Straight away.”
“I’ll need another room, as well. This one is compromised,” he demands.
“Yes, sir. I’ll see to it. Would you like to wait in the sitting room?”
“No, I’ll be back in an hour, make sure my things are moved.” He leaves before the man can move.
General Barclay knows what to do. He marches to his leather bag and pulls out enlistment papers he keeps for just such occasion. The Army appropriations act allowed the Army to enlist and employ native Indians whenever needed for whatever terms they deemed necessary. One comes to mind.
At the top of the paper, he writes the name, Blood Eagle, and the terms. He will act as an Army Scout to hunt down these three people, who are now causing a problem for him. Blood Eagle has come in handy in the past and
