CHAPTER 7
Edgar Davidson stepped into the office, came to attention, and saluted. Behind him, Hayden Tyler did the same.
Captain Croxton stood up, returned the salutes, and said, “At ease, both of you.”
Despite that, Davidson remained standing as stiffly as ever as he said, “You wanted to see me, sir?”
His eyes flicked toward Jamie, who kept his seat in front of the desk. Dislike filled the lieutenant’s glance.
“I have new orders for both of you,” said Croxton as he settled down in his chair again. “But before we get to that, there’s some business with Mr. MacCallister that I need to finish.”
“It’s finished,” Jamie said flatly. “I refuse, Captain. You’re going to have to find somebody else for the job.”
“There isn’t anyone else,” Croxton argued. “This is an important mission, Jamie, not just for me but for the Crow as well. Don’t you think peace means as much to them as it does to us?”
“I know it does. But I can’t help you.”
Davidson cleared his throat and said, “Begging the captain’s pardon, but perhaps Lieutenant Tyler and I should come back later . . . ?”
“Stay right where you are,” Croxton snapped. “Jamie, I had the feeling you were leaning toward accepting my proposition—”
“Maybe I was,” Jamie broke in, “but that was before I knew who was going to be in command.”
That made Davidson’s eyes open a little wider. He might be as obnoxious as all get-out, but apparently he wasn’t stupid. As the second-highest ranking officer at Fort Kearny, if someone was going to be given command of something, he was likely the one. He couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Captain—”
Croxton cut him off with a stern look. The captain turned back to Jamie and said, “If it’s a matter of money . . .”
“You know better than that,” Jamie said. “I’m just not going to go along and wet-nurse this green lieutenant.”
Davidson’s lip curled as he said, “If you’re referring to me, MacCallister, I hardly need any assistance from the likes of you, no matter what the mission under discussion may be.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Lieutenant,” Croxton said. “Jamie Ian MacCallister is one of the best scouts and most experienced frontiersmen you’ll find anywhere west of the Mississippi!” The captain came to his feet again. “Not only that, but I consider him a personal friend of mine, and I won’t have him insulted.”
“I don’t feel insulted,” drawled Jamie. “For that to be true, I’d have to give a damn what this shavetail thinks of me.”
Davidson turned toward him and exclaimed, “By God, I won’t stand for—”
“As you were, Lieutenant!” Croxton’s voice lashed out at the young officer.
Davidson stood up straight again, and his lips were a tight, thin line as he said, “I beg the captain’s pardon, sir, and I apologize to Mr. MacCallister as well. I meant no offense.”
Well, that was a blatant lie, thought Jamie. Offending him was exactly what Davidson had intended. But as he had indicated, he didn’t care what Davidson thought of him.
The breath that Croxton blew out eloquently expressed his disgust and frustration. He said, “I suppose it’s all moot anyway, if you absolutely refuse to go along, Jamie. Lieutenants Davidson and Tyler will have to do the best they can without you.”
Davidson lifted his chin, preened like a peacock, and said, “I assure you, sir, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll see to it that this mission proceeds smoothly and effectively, whatever it may be.”
Jamie looked at Hayden Tyler, who had stood behind Davidson without saying anything. Jamie asked him, “You’re part of this, Lieutenant?”
“That’s right, sir. I understand that I’ll be Lieutenant Davidson’s second-in-command.”
Davidson cocked an eyebrow and then frowned again. He had to realize that Tyler actually knew more about what was going on than he did, and he didn’t like that.
Tyler’s involvement changed things a little, Jamie thought. He had just met Tyler the day before, but he felt an instinctive liking for the second lieutenant. Even though the mission sounded like a fairly simple one, the way Captain Croxton had described it, if there was a way to foul things up and put the soldiers in danger, more than likely Edgar Davidson would find it. Jamie didn’t want anything bad happening to Tyler or any of the other dragoons assigned to the detail, if it could be avoided.
Besides, if he refused to go along, he would be handing Davidson exactly what he wanted. That idea didn’t sit well with Jamie.
The thought crossed his mind that maybe Croxton had slyly maneuvered him into this position, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stand it if Davidson came out on top. Jamie didn’t know if Croxton was that cunning, but he wouldn’t put it past the man.
“If there’s nothing else, Captain . . . ?” Davidson began.
Jamie held up a hand and said, “Hold on a minute. Maybe I was a mite too hasty.”
Croxton sank back into his chair, and Jamie could tell that he was trying not to grin in triumph.
Davidson turned sharply toward Jamie and demanded, “What are you talking about? You’ve already stated that you have no intention of coming along.”
“And maybe I ought to think about that some more.” Jamie nodded across the desk toward Croxton. “The captain and I are old friends, and I wouldn’t want to let him down.”
Davidson’s mouth began opening and closing slightly, as if he desperately wanted to say something but couldn’t come up with the words.
“Besides,” Jamie went on, “there could be a lot riding on this treaty with the Crow. I wouldn’t want to see a war break out with those folks. The less violence and bloodshed there is on the frontier, the sooner the whole place gets civilized.”
In truth, Jamie wasn’t so sure he thought the spread of civilization across the West was a good idea. He had seen much of this country the way it was originally, or at least the way it had been before the white men started crowding in.
But there was no stopping the so-called march of progress, and so the best thing to do was try to hold down the damage on both sides. Maybe he could help by going along with the detail Captain Croxton was sending out, Jamie told himself.
Looking pleased with himself—the sly dog—Croxton said, “I’m very pleased that you’ve changed your mind, Jamie. I’ll add you to the post’s roster as a civilian scout. I’m afraid I won’t be able to issue you any wages until you get back . . .”
“So if I don’t come back, the army’s not out any extra money. Sounds like a good deal.” Jamie glanced at Davidson, who was still standing there looking dumbfounded. “A really good deal.”
Croxton got to his feet again and said in a brisk tone, “Now that that’s settled, we need to go over some details. If you’ll come over here, gentlemen . . .”
Croxton moved to a large map on the office wall and rested a fingertip on the parchment, in an area on the eastern slope of a mountain range angling down from the main body of the Rockies.
“This stream is called Bishop’s River on the map, after the trapper who first explored it,” the captain said as his finger traced a winding line on the map. “I’m sure the Crow have some other name for it. There’s a large village here”—he tapped a spot on the map where the river made a large bend—“and other villages scattered throughout the area to the north. This main village is the one we’re interested in, because of rumors of a nearby pass that might allow wagons to get through the mountains.”
Jamie shook his head and said, “There’s no such pass, Captain. The more I think about it, the more sure I am of that. There are trails through the mountains, and maybe with some work one of them could be fixed up to where wagons could use it, but it would be a big job.”
Davidson said, “And I’m sure the army surveyors and cartographers responsible for this map know more than you do about this subject, MacCallister. Pardon me, Mister MacCallister.”
The correction managed to be even more insulting than the original statement.
“I trust your judgment and knowledge, Jamie,” said Croxton, “but again, that doesn’t affect the orders I’m supposed to carry out. It’s the treaty we’re concerned with, not whether there’s actually a viable wagon train route through the mountains in that area.”
Jamie’s broad shoulders rose and fell as he said, “Fair enough.”
“So my assignment is to negotiate a treaty with the savages?” Davidson asked.
“Your assignment is to bring the Crow chief back here to the fort so that representatives from Washington can negotiate a treaty with him,” Croxton said.
The eager expression fell off of Davidson’s face. He must have been thinking that this mission would result in him having a place in history, minor though it might have been. He said, “Oh,” then recovered from his disappointment with a visible effort and went on, “Very well, sir. Rest assured that I will deliver the redskin here as ordered, whatever it takes.”
Jamie said, “I think you’re supposed to convince him to come to the fort, not take him prisoner and drag him back here. He won’t be in much of a mood to sign a treaty if you do that.”
Davidson looked to Captain Croxton for clarification. The captain cleared his throat and said, “We don’t want to spark a war with the Crow, Lieutenant. Keep that in mind at all times. But I believe if you explain the situation in a satisfactory manner, the chief will come with you.”
That dodged the question, thought Jamie. He asked, “Do you know anything about this chief?”
Croxton shook his head and said, “Very little, only what some of the trappers who have worked in that region told us. His name is Broken Pine. He’s supposed to be a relatively young man, which leads me to hope he might be more reasonable and open to discussion than some of the elders in the tribe.”
The captain was wrong about that, and Jamie knew it. It was the young warriors who were the firebrands, the ones with unshakable opinions that often led to conflict and even war. The old men had already seen their share of violence and destruction and were more likely to want to avoid such things in the future.
But that was why he was going along, Jamie supposed, to put such knowledge to good use, and serve as a wise, experienced advisor to Lieutenant Davidson.
Who wasn’t likely to listen to a damned thing he had to say, Jamie thought grimly.
“Now, it should take you a week to ten days to reach the Crow village,” Croxton went on. “It’ll probably take a day or two of discussions with the chief before he agrees to accompany you back here. So I’ll expect you to return in approximately three weeks.”
Lieutenant Tyler spoke up, asking, “The wagon train that left here more than a week ago, was it headed in the same direction?”
“I believe the wagonmaster intended to cross the mountains somewhat to the south of your destination,” said Croxton. “It’s not likely that you’ll overtake them, but I suppose it’s possible if anything happened to delay them. That wagon train doesn’t really have anything to do with your assignment, though, Lieutenant.”
“Understood, sir,” Tyler said with a nod.
Davidson asked, “Am I to have the ability to pick the men I want to form this detail, Captain?”
“You’re taking B Troop, Lieutenant Tyler’s troop,” Croxton replied with a nod toward Tyler.
Jamie could tell that Davidson didn’t like having that decision made for him, but after a moment, Davidson nodded in acceptance of it. Then he said, “In that case, sir, I request that Sergeant O’Connor be reassigned to B Troop so that he can come along.”
“O’Connor?” Croxton raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“He’s an experienced man, sir, and you yourself spoke to the need for experienced men on this mission. Besides, I’ve worked well with Sergeant O’Connor in the past and have found him to be an exemplary noncommissioned officer.”
“But the man’s been locked up for fighting!”
Davidson looked coolly at Jamie and said, “For fighting with Mr. MacCallister, who is coming along on this mission, I believe.”
“He’s got you there, Captain,” Jamie said dryly. “If you think I might object, don’t worry about that. It doesn’t matter to me who comes along. I intend to do my job, and as long as everybody else does their jobs, I won’t have a problem with them.”
Croxton thought it over for a moment, then nodded.
“All right,” he said. “But I’m holding you responsible for O’Connor’s behavior, Lieutenant.”
“If I’m to be in command, sir, won’t I be responsible for the behavior of everyone in the detail?”
“That’s right, you will be. And don’t forget, Lieutenant, you’re also responsible for helping to keep the peace here on the frontier.”
“Of course, sir,” Davidson replied with a smirk, and Jamie thought, God help us all . . .