Number Eight

Chapter 8-XXXXXXXX

         As Josephine rushed into the room, Nate stood up, waving his discovery excitedly, “It’s making sense now! The whole thing! Look at this!” He shoved the paper at Josephine.  She put up her hands in defense.

         “Whoa, sorry about that, ma’am. I didn’t mean to poke you in the eye.” Nate apologized.  She stepped back and took the paper from him, trying to read it while keeping a wary eye on him.  He was muttering and gesturing, and walking in circles. He kept saying over and over, “Why didn’t I see this months ago. All the signs were there. Damn all!”         

         Josephine said sharply, “Nate! I asked you not to curse in this house! This is the second time this morning you have used that language, and took the Lord’s name in vain to boot. Don’t do it again! Now sit down while I look at this.”  Nate sat down of the bed, grimacing at her tongue lashing. He stood back up and as he did, he saw two other female heads peeking around the door jam, one young and wide eyed, the other, a mature, smiling, and twinkly eyed, mother figure.  He smiled at them and they, seeing that he still had his hide, withdrew.  Josephine continued to read the articles while he waited; he watched as her eyes switched from one article to the other and back again.  She let her hand drop to the side, the paper flopping over.  She started to speak, but stopped and raised her arm to get another look at the paper.

         “Wh…Wel…uhh…What are you so excited about?” Josephine asked Nate.  He thought, “Surely she sees that Buford and the Colonel are close by.  What about the date of President Lincoln’s murder and Lambe’s arrival here? I might be making too much of this.” 

         Pointing to the paper in her hand he answered her, “When I left Brigham’s office, a ‘brother’, I think he was a Danite, handed me a note that said, “Your Col. Is in Carson City. He ain’t the only wolf howling thereabouts.” Nate continued, “And President Young recited part of the Bible at me, ‘a man’s enemies are the men of his own house’ and then warned me to ‘watch for wolves in sheep’s clothing’.  I think this is the answer to those puzzles.  I thought they was mighty puzzlin’ up to now.”

         Josephine was looking at him with a puzzled expression herself until he finished.  Then the meaning of it all suddenly dawned on her and her eyebrows rose and those brown eyes were open wide. Her eyebrows dropped into a fierce glare and her beautiful brown eyes hardened into two nearly black marbles, “George Lambe!” she hissed. “ He was John’s senior clerk, we thought he was our friend!”  Josephine nearly spat in her fury, as it was, her foot stamped the wooden floor as she whirled and ran out of the room.  She began to howl in grief before she was halfway to the stairway that led to her room and it continued until the bedroom door slammed shut. He heard the sound of her collapsing to the floor and she began to cry in deep, wracking sobs. Nate started to go to her, but Frances beat him to the stairway and Carmen pushed past him as well, giving him a disgusted look as she climbed the stairway.  He returned to his room and collected the scattered papers and returned them to the packet.  He hid them under the mattress and retrieved his money belt. He decided that maybe he should go to the Bucket of Blood and gather up young Wally.  He wasn’t needed here.  And, he had made arrangements to meet him there today. He needed that horse more than ever.  Nate glanced up the stairs as he let himself out of the front door. “I hope she’ll be alright, that news was pretty sudden.” He said to no one in particular. 

         The Bucket of Blood was busy as Nate pushed the batwing doors open and walked directly to the bar. Cocking his boot on the rail, he caught the eye of the bartender, and asked, “Wally here today?” The man carefully looked him up and down, noting that he didn’t have a six gun belted around his waist. “Who’s askin’?”

         Nate felt his ‘hackles’ raise at the belligerent tone in the barkeep’s voice.  His right hand moved to the hilt of the Bowie knife in anticipation.  The movement stopped as a voice boomed out, “Ephraim, good to see ya. C’mon back! Stewie, this is my old pal Ephraim!” Wally beckoned from the door of the backroom.

         His reaching hand relaxed it’s grip on the handle of the knife and Nate gave a sharp, small wave to “Stewie” as he walked past him to meet with Wally in the backroom. “How are you today?” he said to Wally, but said in a quiet voice when entered the other room, “Stewie? Really?”

         Wally grinned, “Long story, my friend. So, did you get settled then?” Nate looked at Wally’s grin. He wondered what Wally knew about Josephine’s situation. Obviously, he knew something, or thought he did, that amused him. Nate didn’t want to play into his trap.        

         “That Sister Frances is a corker ain’t she?” Nate offered. Wally played his cards a little bolder than Nate did. He went on.

         “What about Josephine?” 

         “Ahhh”, Nate thought, Wally played his high card early. It wasn’t hard to have a little fun at Wally’s expense now, so he played a winner, or so he thought. “And that little Carmen is a sweet girl, kinda quiet though.” Nate laid his hand right out there, not bothering to give Wally the satisfaction of drawing out his thoughts and feelings of Josephine.          

         But Wally must have had an Ace up his sleeve ‘cause he laid down the rest of his cards, a full house, so to speak, “President Young sent word. You’re to take care of her, watch over all of them, but especially Josephine. She’s deeper into this than she realizes, and in bigger danger.  Both of you have powerful enemies, but he trusts that you will be able to take care of her.” Nate listened to this with a growing feeling of fear. He could take care of himself, he thought. But, three women? That was a tall order, and two of these enemies had already proven to be ready to kill any one who threatened their plans.  Maybe they had killed, he considered, thinking of John Young.

         The younger Wally walked into the backroom, noting Nate at the same time as greeting his father. “Pa, I told Mr. Ephraim, that I would go with him today.  He wants to buy a horse. That Okay?”

         “Surely son…” the elder Wally paused as he noticed ‘Stewie’ hesitate near the open door as if to listen to the conversation.  “Ephraim is an old friend, I would go with him but I am busy today.” he continued to speak but walked to the door. “You need something Stewie?” he barked out. Nate watched the nosy employee jump at the rebuke and grinned as the guilty man answered, “No sir! I thought I heard you call for me.” 

         Wally turned to look at Nate with a wry smile on his face and continued, “I did not, now, get on with your work, Stewie.”

         “Yes sir!” he nearly broke into a trot as he moved away from the open door. Young Wally looked back and forth to his father and Nate with a puzzled look on his face.  His father reached out for the younger man’s shoulder and squeezed it as he gave directions to his son. “Take him down to Stumpy’s Livery, you know the place by the blacksmith’s shop? You do, alright, when you get there and introduce Ephraim, make sure that you tell Stumpy that I said to give him a good deal.  And Ephraim if you don’t have enough to pay for what you need, tell him to send the bill here. We’ll take care of it, if you know what I mean.”

         Nate nodded in agreement, he guessed that Brigham had made some more money available for him to finish this job.  He answered Wally, “Well thanks kindly, I just might have to take you up on that, I’ll see how tough ol’ Stumpy is to deal with. Let’s go Wally.”  

          The two young men left the saloon and walked down the boardwalk towards the stable. Nate noticed that they would pass the sign he had seen yesterday, the one that marked the entrance of the Sergeant Major’s saloon. Now that he knew that Col. Morgan was in the area, it was likely that Aloysious McGillicuddy was here too. Keeping his eyes focused straight ahead, he resisted the urge to look through the doors, as he passed by.  He wanted to plunge through the door with the Bowie knife raised and drive it deep in the heart of the beast if he was there. That would have to wait.  Nate walked on.

         Inside the saloon, a burly, red-faced brute watched the tall man stride by the front of his saloon with a kid by his side. His face drained of all color as recognition dawned on the alcohol numbed brain inside the massive, thick head, seemingly stuck to his wide shoulders without a neck. “By God, it can’t be so! We beat him to a bloody pulp! The newspaper said that he had been found dead! We watched the burial, No! He can’t be alive. The boss will kill me and the Colonel if he finds out.” the Sergeant Major slurred drunkenly. He pointed to a skinny creature who existed around the edges of the action in the saloon, trying to remain invisible to the boisterous crowd.  He had been abused by the rowdies too many times as he cadged drinks, drinks that he craved, drinks that kept the hellacious visions he suffered, if he went too long without a drink, at bay. “You! Hop the ore train down to Carson and look up Colonel Morgan. Tell him I need to see him here, as soon as he can come. Tell him I said ‘BullRun’, ya got that? ‘BullRun’, if’n you forget, I’ll pull your head off and roll it down the street in the horse turds.”

         The wasted shell of a man nodded without speaking and started to leave, the Sergeant Major pulled a silver dollar out of the pocket in his blue cavalry pants and flipped it through the air towards him.  As the skinny man caught the spinning coin, the Sergeant Major spat out, “Now git!”.