Moon glanced upward and noticed black troublesome clouds gathering to the south. Storm clouds which were headed toward the massive fortress. His flared nostrils detected the acrid smell of burning air and confirmed to him that there was indeed another tempest about to strike toward Fort Hook. Moon was no stranger to the often brutal storms which prevailed in the arid regions in and around the vast nameless desert.
His keen hearing detected distant thunderclaps heralding the slow progress of the storm as he stood with his knuckles on his gun grips.
Unlike the majority of souls who roamed through this lawless territory, Uriah Moon actually welcomed the chaos that such storms brought with them. His narrowed eyes studied the distant storm as his cold and calculating brain wondered when it might decide to head in this direction.
It had only been a matter of hours since the last one passed and slowly drifted south. Moon believed that storms were living creatures just as bears and wolves were. He knew they held unimaginable power and were totally unpredictable but he also believed that they were somehow sent to help him by some unknown force.
A force which protected him.
It was a strange belief which the mysterious vigilante had never spoken of. Yet to him it was true. Nothing else could explain how whenever he needed the help of the gods, a storm would appear from nowhere and assist him.
The mysterious Moon had lost count of how many times a seemingly tranquil sky had changed exactly when he required assistance. His cold blue eyes returned to the large livery stables that housed the cavalry mounts. He removed his hat, shook his long colorless mane off his face and then returned the black Stetson to his head.
The tall vigilante walked into the stables and was momentarily taken aback by the sight of so many cavalry mounts standing in the stalls. He had never seen so many horses in one place before. His keen eyesight searched the vast interior of the wooden structure for a few moments until they located his gelded mustang close to the blacksmith forge.
The horse raised and lowered its head in recognition of its master and Moon nodded in silent reply. He was about to approach the mustang when he caught sight of someone out of the corner of his eyes.
The vigilante tilted his head and raised his left eyebrow as he observed the powerfully built man. Moon watched but did not speak as he studied the sweat soaked man. He had seen many blacksmiths before but none quite as big as this one. He looked as though he could bend horseshoes in his hands. His body rippled with muscles. Muscles which most men do not possess.
A large man who did not look anything like a regular trooper walked out from the shadows and around the horse powerfully. He glanced up at the vigilante standing near the open doorway with the sun upon his wide shouldered frame.
Unlike most men, this huge creature was not impressed by the sight of the tall vigilante. He cleared his throat and then spat at the sod stable floor.
The man scratched his whiskers with a thumbnail as he studied the vigilante carefully.
‘Howdy,’ Moon drawled.
‘Who in tarnation are you?’ the blacksmith growled like an angry bear and then dragged one of the gelding’s legs off the sandy floor and checked its shoe.
Moon stroked his long beard.
‘My names Uriah Moon, friend,’ the vigilante answered as he cautiously strode toward the burly man. ‘That’s my horse you’re tending.’
‘I ain’t your friend,’ the man growled ominously.
Moon slowed his approach as the gruff words surprised him.
‘My mistake,’ Moon said as he closed the distance between them. ‘My mustang sure looks in better shape than he was this morning. You’re doing a fine job.’
‘Don’t waste your breath on me, old timer,’ the blacksmith snarled dismissively. ‘I can see right through you.’
No words of praise could have put the blacksmith in a better mood than he was already in, Moon thought. He seemed to enjoy being offensive and the vigilante knew that such menfolk were always dangerous. The man released the horses leg and straightened up. His eyes glared at Moon. He rubbed the sweat off his face with a filthy towel and then moved toward the bearded vigilante. His eyes studied Moon in the same way that he studied all the horses that were put in his care.
‘That mustang is mighty tuckered, Moon,’ the gruff man said before spitting at the hot coals of his forge. A hissing sound acknowledged that his aim had been true. ‘He’s been ridden too hard for too long. He needs a rest.’
Moon nodded. ‘He’s a good horse. He’s saved my bacon many times over the past week.’
‘Damned if I would have,’ the huge man said.
The vigilante imagined that he might be grabbed and crushed at any moment if he were to say the wrong thing but that did not deter him. Moon was like a matador faced by a snorting bull as he eyed the massive man.
‘Is it me you don’t like?’ Moon asked. ‘Or maybe you just don’t like anyone.’
The big man started to grin. He admired anyone who had the guts to stand their ground. The bearded man before him had just proved he was not intimidated and the blacksmith. That was a rare quality in these remote parts.
‘My names Big Joe McGraw,’ the blacksmith said in a low guttural tone. ‘I look after all the horseflesh in this hellhole of a stable, Moon.’
Moon nodded. ‘Looks like you do a good job. I’ve never seen so many fine examples of horseflesh before.’
‘I ain’t a real blacksmith though,’ McGraw confided. ‘I was sent here from El Paso after I killed a couple of folks. It was either coming to Fort Hook or getting myself hung.’
Uriah Moon raised his eyebrows.
‘I’d say you were as good as any blacksmith I’ve ever run into, Big Joe,’ he said. ‘Reckon your pretty good at this.’
McGraw grunted. ‘I’m just big, Moon. This work is easy when you’re big.’
The vigilante nodded. ‘You sure are big right enough. Mighty big.’
Big Joe walked around the vigilante as though he were inspecting him and then moved back to the gelding and patted the horses neck.
‘I reshod two of his shoes, Moon,’ he informed. ‘The other two are okay. You a bounty hunter or something?’
It was Moon’s turn to spit at the hot coals.
‘Nope,’ he answered.
Big Joe looked Moon up and down. He had never seen anyone with such long white hair or a beard which had to be tethered halfway down its length to keep it in place. He screwed up his eyes and growled again.
‘If you ain’t a bounty hunter, what the hell are you?’ he asked angrily. ‘I never seen a critter that looks anything like you look.’
Moon strode forward to his gelding and smoothed its white blaze with the back of his left hand. He then gazed into the hardened features of the blacksmith.
‘I’m a vigilante,’ he said coldly. ‘I kill folks that the law has not punished.’
Big Joe moved to his forge and picked up a large jug and raised it to his lips. He started to drink. Moon watched the man’s Adam’s apple move with each swallow. Then the man lowered the jug and placed it on the ground.
‘You kill folks, huh?’ Big Joe asked.
‘Yep,’ Moon replied. ‘I kill folks.’
Big Joe was thoughtful for a few moments and then looked the vigilante in the eye and grinned.
‘I’ve been in the army for nearly ten years,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I killed a lot of folks in that time. Like I said, they were going to hang me but then figured I’d be useful here in Fort Hook. I’ve also had to kill a lot of horses as well. Sometimes they get themselves all ripped up when the cavalry ride into action. Full of arrows and bullets and suchlike. They have to be destroyed. I’ve never met a vigilante before though.’
Moon sucked air through his nostrils.
‘You ain’t missed much,’ he said.
Moon looked at the palms of his hands. They were still raw but no longer hurt.
‘What happened there?’ Big Joe pointed at his injuries.
‘I skinned my hands sliding down a cutting rope.’ Moon tilted his head.
‘I ain’t never tried that either,’ the burly blacksmith chuckled as he moved to the gelding and grabbed its bridle. ‘I ain’t exactly built to do anything like that.’
The sun still beat down mercilessly on the parade ground but the shadows had started to lengthen. Moon checked his golden time-piece again and snapped its lid shut again.
‘Are you the varmint that blew up Lucifer’s Lair?’ Big Joe asked as he led the mustang to an empty stall and turned the animal.
‘Yep, that was me.’
Big Joe hung a feed bag over the gelding’s head and watched the animal start to eat. He turned and moved back to the side of vigilante.
‘I hear tell that you saved two young girls,’ he said.
Moon nodded. ‘Yep, I did.’
‘I admire that,’ McGraw said. ‘I don’t like most of the troopers around here. They’re bad folks. Sent here like I was and none of them would do anything as brave as you did. Them girls are in more danger here from the troopers than they probably were with the Apaches.’
Uriah Moon did not like what he was hearing and suddenly began to understand why the army were insisting that the Hooper girls be taken to their next of kin without delay.
‘Thanks, Big Joe,’ he said, ‘You answered a couple of things that have been troubling me.’
Big Joe lifted his jug off the sandy ground and offered it to the tall vigilante.
‘Drink?’
Uriah Moon shook his head. ‘No thanks, Big Joe. I don’t partake in drinking hard liquor. I have to stay sober in my line of work.’
The blacksmith raised both his eyebrows in surprise.
‘You don’t drink?’
‘Nope,’ Moon drawled and looked back out at the parade ground. ‘I never cared much for it anyway.’
‘Maybe that’s why I’ve killed so many bastards, Moon,’ Big Joe growled as a smile etched his features. ‘I ain’t ever been sober long enough not to kill folks who rile me.’
Moon dipped his long fingers into his vest pocket and fished out a gold ten-dollar coin. He tossed it at the blacksmith and touched the wide brim of his hat.
‘Keep looking after my nag until I need him,’ he said.
The surprised blacksmith tested the coin with his teeth and then grinned.
‘Will do,’ he said before lifting his jug to his lips and guzzling its contents.
The tall figure strode back toward the large open doors of the stable and as the sunlight hit his wide shoulders, he paused and turned to face the blacksmith.
‘When the hell does it get dark around these parts, Big Joe?’ he asked. ‘It seems to me that this day is lasting a lot longer than usual.’
‘Damned if I know, Moon,’ Big Joe shrugged. ‘Why?’
Uriah Moon did not reply. He simply turned and walked into the bright sunlight before heading toward the cook house. With every step he kept thinking about the things the massive blacksmith had told him concerning his fellow troopers in the notorious Fort Hook. Moon had known that most of the army’s worst characters had been sent to the remote fortress but had not even imagined that was the real reason headquarters did not wish the young golden haired sisters to remain on the outpost was for their safety.
What loathsome atrocities had the fort’s troopers done?
The question burned into him like a branding iron.
Moon tried not to dwell upon it.
The vigilante rested a shoulder against the cook house doorway and studied the sentries wandering around the high parapets. He began to wonder what outrages they had done to get themselves sent to Fort Hook.
Moon turned and entered. He dragged a chair from under the table and sat down as dozens of thoughts filled his mind. Maybe he had accidently discovered the reason why the army thought it imperative the girls did not remain in the fort.
‘You back for another cup of coffee, Mr. Moon?’ One of the cooks shouted across the large cooking range at the seated vigilante. ‘Is that why you’re in here?’
Uriah Moon shook his head and got back to his feet.
‘Nope,’ he drawled before pulling the fat cigar that Colonel Ambrose had given him earlier that morning from his pocket and raising it to his mouth. Without thinking he bit off its tip and spat it at the floor.
Moon struck a match, cupped its flame and inhaled its smoke into his lungs. He blew the flame out and tossed the blackened matchstick at the floor. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the guards circling the belly of the fort. He could not stop thinking about the blacksmiths words.
For the first time he started to agree with his cousin’s superiors that it was probably safer to send the young girls away from the lustful troopers before they caught the cavalrymen’s attention.
Moon filled his lungs with smoke.
Suddenly he knew what he had to do.