The Five Dollar Mail Book 3: The Road Home

41: If You Can Keep Your Head

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Storm by Laura Hollingsworth. All graphics by me.

Book 1: The Green, Book 2: Lynch's Boys, Book 3: The Road Home, and the Riders & Kickers Anthology are available on Amazon under the name Regina Shelley. So if you hate waiting for chapter posts and/or want a more polished read, the finished product is available now.

The fading sunlight creeping through the open doorway of Captain Scarcliff's office dimmed momentarily, and Storm jerked his head around, startled. Lieutenant Collins, the extremely angry office who'd thrown him and Dev into the brig when they'd first arrived, had stopped in his tracks in the doorway and now stood scowling at him. Storm resisted the urge to scowl back, his skin immediately prickling with dislike. It's bad enough I'm trapped back here without having to be trapped with this tight-buttoned jackass. He's trouble.

Collin's eyes flickered from Storm's face, and over the other scouts assembled around Scarcliff's desk. "You sent for me, sir?"

"Yes, Lieutenant." Scarcliff motioned him over to the map spread out across his desktop. If he had noticed Collin's foul mood, he was doing a good job of ignoring it. "We're discussing how these attacks don't seem to fall into any sort of discernible pattern."

"All due respect, sir..." Collins strode past the scouts and looked down at the pins stuck in the map. "I think it's pointless looking for things to make sense. These are reds we're talking about."

Oh, yeah. Storm let the comment roll off him like smoke. Reason One Thousand and Sixty-Five why I left this place. He'd gotten used to being slurred in front of his face, as if he were no more sentient than a piece of furniture. Disrespect, especially in a place like this was the landscape; it was atmosphere...but being used to smelling sewage doesn't mean you grow to like the smell of it.

"Well...not necessarily." Scarcliff gestured around the room. "They're telling me that Red Hoof doesn't always work with Indians. Let's not trap ourselves into thinking that's the only possibility."

Collins huffed dismissively. "Of course they're going to say that."

Scarcliff's lip curled in annoyance. "Our scouts are reliable, Lieutenant," he said. "If we didn't trust them, they wouldn't be here inside this fort."

"I'm not foolish enough to trust him," Collins pointed an accusing finger at Storm. "If it were up to me, he'd still be in the brig."

"It's not up to you," Scarcliff said. "I sent for you to discuss this map, not accuse our scouts of treason or discuss whether or not mail employees should or shouldn't be in the brig."

"That mouthy red right there," Collins said, his voice rising, "is not one of our scouts."

"Lieutenant." Scarcliff stood up, straightening his back with a tired popping sound. "That man works for Lynch's express house and probably knows some sections of the trail better than we do. And you're perilously close to crossing the line here."

Collins clenched his jaw down on what would have been his next comment. Storm could tell he was frustrated, and resentment was brewing in him like a poison. "My apologies," he muttered unhappily. "Sir...why do you think it's anything but Indians? We know for a fact that it was Indians at Pyramid Lake and at some of the mail stations. So why is there talk of something other than what we already know is happening?"

"Permission to speak, sir." Storm fell into the protocol he knew the scouts used. No point offending this self-important prick any more than necessary. He hated having to fall into rank, but if he was going to get anywhere with this, he knew he'd have to follow the rules. Their territory, their game.

Scarcliff, ignoring his Lieutenant's renewed grimace, nodded at him. "Granted."

"You know our station was attacked. I told you about that." Storm glanced at Collins unhappily. Having to speak in front of the man irked him. "That man was white. I don't have any reason to think Indians were involved beyond the stations out near Carson Sink where the initial conflict occurred."

"This is stupid," Collins spat. "Why would you even think that's relevant?"

"Because he claimed to be at Williams. I believe him." He hooked his fingers into his collar and pulled his shirt over his shoulder, showing the bandage covering his injury. "He cuffed me to a chair and burned me. He would have killed me and everyone at the station if it hadn't turned for us. That wasn't Indians. And I think that attack was connected to these others."

Collins shook his head, waving him off. "I don't want to stand here and have my time wasted by this. After Pyramid Lake, this is crazy talk. This lying red wants to divert blame to someone other than his people."

"Paiutes are not 'my' people," Storm spat, heat and temper simmering inside him. "If you're trying to save lives, we need to consider..."

"Listen, boy." Collins wheeled on Storm, poking him hard in the chest with his finger. "I don't trust you. We had to open the gate for you, and now you're trying to say we should sit around talking while a murdering pack of savages attack and kill people. I wouldn't be surprised if you were sent here by them to get us to stand down! Captain, really, are we..."

Storm's arm jerked up reflexively, knocking Collin's accusing finger aside. "I don't have to stand for this," he growled. "I don't even want to be here. I'm sure as hell not going to..." Many Stars clamped his hand down on Storm's uninjured shoulder, digging his fingers in hard, pulling him back. Wounded quickly stepped in front of him, giving a barely perceptible shake of his head.

Storm saw Collins' fingers straying reflexively over the butt of the pistol hanging by his hip. He fought the reflex to pull his own weapon and took in a deep breath, calming himself. The Voice of Wisdom whispered in his ear, staying his hand. Stand down, Lights the Storm. This one is dangerous. This one will get you killed. And Fiona's here. Don't.

"That's enough, Lieutenant!" Scarcliff's face was pinched with stress and disgust. "All of you get back to your quarters. This is appalling. Lieutenant, I need a word."

Storm allowed Many Stars to wheel him towards the door. He was practically shaking with anger, and was glad the old scout was there to help him gain control of his temper. It's getting more dangerous in here than it is outside. I've got to get Fiona out of here.

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