The Five Dollar Mail Book 3: The Road Home

76: Thick As Thieves

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. 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.

I didn't make that picture. It's a pic of an actual daguerreotype. I just thought he looked very much the way I picture Collins as looking. -gina

Collins rode up behind the wagon in the middle of the parade ground, mentally tallying the items being loaded inside. He wished the three enlisted men doing the loading would hurry it up. He wanted as much distance as possible between his detachment and the fort when Scarcliff returned.

It's time to do what's got to be done. And Scarcliff doesn't have the stomach for it. It's going to have to be me. Me and the few men around here who have some balls.

He watched the men loading rifle ammunition, grimly listening to the harsh scraping of the crates across the worn boards of the wagon bed. There was an excitement tingling through him, a feeling that today was the day everything would change. That things would start happening for him, that he'd finally start moving towards the recognition and the glory he deserved.

He turned his head at the sound of slow hoofbeats approaching him, thudding softly on the dusty earth.

The grizzled railroad representative Hezekiah Stone stopped on his horse, raising a bushy eyebrow and nodding. "That Crow got into a scuffle with your man last night, eh?" A faint, knowing smile played on his lips. "Heard he ended up getting bayoneted a couple times before anyone had a chance to talk to him. This fort seems to be a dangerous place for Crow scouts."

Collins narrowed his eyes, nodding back. "He tried to overpower the guard. Damn shame about what happened."

Stone huffed, snorting and scratching his ear. "You sure didn't waste any time," he muttered in a barely audible voice. "Did you."

"We don't have any time." Collins said, his eyes scanning the parade ground uneasily. Scarcliff comes back early, it's going to be over before it starts. "If we're going to do this, we're going to have to do it now. We didn't need the red talking and confusing the issue. And we don't need Scarcliff's inaction. Those Lakota have got to be cleared out."

"Well," Stone grunted. "You're not getting any argument from me. My men have already headed out to the village. All you have to do is give the signal." He leaned close, lowering his voice further. "You remember our agreement?"

"Your men get the scalps. Understood." Lakota scalps were worth something, and it gave Collins a twinge of regret to give them up. But doing so ensured the loyalty of mercenaries and bandits, and thus increased the fighting power of his unit.

"Good." Stone nodded. "And we both forget we know each other after." He drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "They won't be expecting it. They're expecting to be courted and bribed. I was out there trying to strike up a deal and they were trying to hold out. So I don't reckon this will be much of a fight."

"Any whites in that village? Captives, maybe?"

"Only white I know about is the yellow-haired squaw man that fouled up my meeting with Chief His Horses. He can read."

"Oh?"

"Read the contract and talked His Horses out of taking the railroad's deal. I don't get paid if they don't get moved." His pale eyes met with Collin's, sharp and emotionless. "That yellow scalp is mine."

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