By: Julie Dieck
Chapter 4 “Tragedy Strikes Again”
Darkness had set in when Alan rode back through the gates of Fort Worth. The bright full moon overhead bathed the compound in a soft light. He hummed a lively Irish tune, feeling as high as the stars. It had been a wonderful night and he was itching to tell Daniel all about it. He dismounted near headquarters office and approached two privets who were talking together.
Alan called to them good-naturedly, “Tell me, lads, do ya’ know where me friend, Corporal Wade, be?”
One of the privets shook his head. “He and Privet Young haven’t returned yet, Sir.”
The smile on the sergeant’s face faded to a confused frown. “What da’ ya’ mean? They should’ve been back by dusk.”
Again, a shake of the head, this time from the other man. “Well, they didn’t, Sir. Since they left this afternoon there’s been no sign of ‘em. The captain’s getting worried.”
“He not be the only one,” Alan mumbled as he passed the privets and headed for the captain’s office. He’d only placed one boot on the porch steps when a shout from the fort wall split the night air.
“The scouting party’s returned!”
Alan spun around in anticipation to see the gates open for the arrivals. Anticipation turned into a knot twisting in his stomach, when two horses came trotting in with heads hanging low, their heaving flanks dark with sweat. The man in front was dust covered and leaned hard on the saddle horn. He led the second panting horse by the reins; in the saddle, a uniformed figure slumped low over the drooped neck.
Behind him, Alan heard the door to headquarters open as Collins came out, having heard the shout; but he didn’t wait for the captain. He took off at a run and skidded to a stop beside the second horse and found his worst fear to be true – the slumped man was Daniel. He was barely breathing, eyes closed. In the back of his dusty uniform, blood oozed from a hole in the material between the shoulder blades. Alan grabbed the corporal and gently eased him out of the saddle. Captain Collins came hurriedly up and assisted in laying him on the ground. A few other soldiers also helped Young down and a runner was quickly sent for the doctor. The privet was tired and had a bullet wound in the arm, but could still stand on his feet though.
Alan supported his friend’s head and shoulders in his arms. Softly he kept calling, each more desperate then the last. “Daniel! Daniel, can ya’ hear me, lad?”
Daniel stirred a bit, but his eyes remained closed. A bit of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth; he had been hit badly.
Captain Collins looked up at Privet Young. “What happened?”
“We ran into an Indian party near the south end of the valley,” Young explained. “They were almost on top of us before we realized they were there. We couldn’t fight them all off, so we had to ran, but they came after us. Must’ve chased us almost ten miles before they finally turned back. Before we could get away, Corporal Wade got a bullet in the back and I got one in the arm.”
A soft moan interrupted as the corporal stirred again. Alan kept up his continuous talking, his voice tender like that of a mother, trying to soothe the pain of a child.
Daniel’s lips moved as he whispered, “Alan?”
Alan leaned closer. “I be here, lad. I ain’t gunna let ya’ go. I got ya’.”
The eyes of the wounded man opened slightly; they weren’t bright and clear as Alan had always known; these were dull and glazed. But even so, they could still see the familiar face above. Daniel met Alan’s eyes and locked there, as though searching for a help that couldn’t be given. Alan tried to force an encouraging smile, but it was a poor imitation.
“T’will be alright, Daniel. Yer gunna be fine.” But it was only a comforting lie. He knew his friend was dying; and he figured Daniel knew that too. Alan felt utterly helpless.
“Danny, I – I’m sorry, laddie. I be so sorry.” He almost choked on the ending words. It was all he could think of to say.
The glassy eyes kept their gaze, the light fading within. There wasn’t fear there, but a deep sadness; a sadness that he was putting his friend through this horrible scenario once again. His hand came up weakly, reaching out. Alan quickly grabbed it in his own and squeezed it tight as he cradled his friend in his arm. Daniel’s lips moved again as he spoke, hardly distinguishable.
“At least … we got to say … goodbye …” It ended in a sigh. The dark eyes glazed over as the life departed from them and the body went limp.
“Daniel? Daniel!” But the words went unheard. Alan felt he couldn’t breathe. Hot tears blurred his vision as his head lowered over his dead friend. He was vaguely aware of the strong hand that gently laid on his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, Branegan,” the captain’s voice said softly.
But the words held little comfort for the sergeant. Once again, another piece of his torn and mended world had been ripped away. Daniel’s words echoed through his mind from that afternoon: “You’ve done me enough favors, I owe you a big one anyway.”
Alan held the limp figure closer, ignoring the blood that smeared his own uniform. The tears spilled over and flowed down his cheeks as he whispered, “It didn’t have ta’ be this, me friend.”
A week had passed since the tragic event – a very long week. Alan sat on the edge of his bunk alone in the barracks. Normally, he would have been in town with the other fellas when off-duty; but tonight they were there without him. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, and he didn’t particularly care. He tried to keep his eyes someplace else, but they always kept drifting back to the empty bunk across from his; and every time they did, it only made the tightness within his chest grow worse. A tightness that had started back on the ranch that fateful day and was now twice as hard. His brows drew together as he scowled.
Now he had a double reason for hating the Indians. They had taken two people whom he’d loved away from him. Twice he’d been hurt, deeper than any knife could have cut or arrow could have pierced. He didn’t want to be hurt again. He never wanted to let anyone get as close again. If there was no one there, no one could get taken from you. For the whole week he’d been unable to stop the scene from coming back to haunt his mind. The days filled with nonstop thoughts; the nights with nonstop dreams.
Alan rubbed his tight forehead. He didn’t want to think about it any longer. He just needed some fresh air. Maybe a walk in the cool night air might just clear things from his mind – at least for a while anyway. He got up and left the lonely barracks. Not knowing where to walk to, he just started following the perimeter of the fort walls. The moon was up and stars glittered the sky. There was no wind, but a slight coolness hung on the air making it a pleasant temperature. Alan ambled along idly, eyes staring at the ground where each foot landed before him. There was something about walking in the moonlight that makes problems seem to fade in strength; blending in with the night and shadows, softening the sharp outline of reality. Though still heavy inside, at least his mind felt a bit more at ease.
But Alan wasn’t the only one out for a moonlit stroll. Not till he was almost to him did Alan notice the figure walking ahead. He had no trouble recognizing the tall straight bearing of Lieutenant Somers, and Alan was in no mood to talk to him at the moment. Some speech about how he needed to perfect himself was the last thing he wanted – or needed. He tried to casually duck into some shadows by the buildings to slip away in the opposite direction, but was too late. Somers had already spotted him. There was no getting away now as the lieutenant made a beeline for him and Alan growled under his breath.
Somers seemed in an extra irritating mood tonight; or maybe it was just that Alan was more irritable at the moment, Alan didn’t know which, maybe it was a little of both. Somers came right up with hands clasped behind his back and chin up.
“Well, I see you’re making sure you get some time to enjoy yourself. Shouldn’t you be doing something, Sergeant; besides taking a stroll? Like maybe forcing yourself to get some work done? Seems to me a soldier should earn the pay he gets. Most of the good ones around here do.”
Alan peered up at him without raising his head. “Sorry, Sir, but I be on me own time right now.”
“Humph,” Somers snorted. “When I was a sergeant, I was never off-duty. And have you forgotten how to salute your superior officer? Or is it just too much effort to get your arm that high?”
Purposely, Alan stuffed his hands into his pockets, showing he had no intention of humoring him. “When I be off-duty, I don’t have ta’ salute no one if I don’t be wantin’ to.”
Somers glared at the sergeant and the sergeant glared back. “I could have you thrown in the guardhouse for showing disrespect to your higher C.O.; but since you’re off-duty, I’ll let it pass this time.” Alan couldn’t understand the sudden generosity, but he soon did. Somers had a different route in mind and didn’t try to hide the destination as he continued. “By the way, I was wondering if you’ve gotten yourself over your time of self-pity yet.”
Alan said nothing. The lieutenant continued on.
“I hear you’ve been sulking since Corporal Wade died. A soldier should have more control over his feelings. A man who wears that uniform can’t be soft.” Somers eyes flickered an unimpressed glace over the sergeant’s slightly disheveled appearance. “Or in your case, at least what can be called a uniform.”
Still silence.
Somers took advantage of it as he continued to rub the salt in. “I also hear that you got the corporal to take over scouting duty for you after I assigned you to that detail. Some way to treat a friend.”
Alan scowled. He didn’t like the direction this conversation was going. The salt was beginning to sting the wound that hadn’t closed yet.
The lieutenant gave a sigh. “Well, if he wasn’t smart enough to avoid getting shot in the back, then I guess he had it coming to him. If he was going to get himself killed, the least he could have done was go down fighting like a soldier then running away like a frightened coward.”
Alan felt his face flush; the hot Irish blood began to surge, growing hotter by the second. “Ya’ got no right sayin’ that about me friend! Daniel was as fine ’a lad that ever was!”
“Not very smart though.”
Alan’s eyes narrowed. “Just what’s that ‘spose ta’ mean?”
“Means he wasn’t very bright when he chose who his friends were. For one thing, he might have still been alive had he not had a soft spot for the likes of you. Might have turned out to be a soldier if he hadn’t. That’s what you get having a foreigner for a friend.”
That was it.
Teeth gritted, Alan swung. There was a crack as bone met bone and the lieutenant flew back with a surprised grunt. He landed on the packed dirt with a solid thud. Alan stood over him, fist still clenched. He didn’t care about what would come later, hate and grief had mixed to create an explosive combination – and the fuse had been lit.
“Ya’ ain’t a soldier; ye’re a low-level insolent! Ya’ ain’t even got the right ta’ be wearin’ them bars! Ya’ probably yanked ‘em off the shoulders of some good honest lad after turnin’ him in for not shinin’ his boots right and put ‘em on yerself!”
Somers pushed himself to one knee, a hand to his aching jaw, face livid. “How dare you! I’ll have your stripes for this!”
Alan glared down at the lieutenant with flaming eyes as he hissed through clenched teeth, “Then come and git ‘em! I be waitin’ for this for ah’ long time!” He held his fists up and ready. “Git up and fight if ya’ have the belly fer it! Ya’ cheap excuse for ah’ man!”
Somers didn’t even try threatening or quoting regulations; he leapt to his feet in a rage. Throwing rank to the dirt, fists swinging; both rushed and two muscular bodies collided.
Chapter 5 will be released next Saturday, December 9, 2023.
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