Mount Up with Wings, as Eagles…'' [ Three Tales of Two Cousins] Continued

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CHAPTER NINE an old mansion, outside Plum Creek, Nebraska, the 1870s

The woman they all worked for, to one degree or another, was far, far less than
pleased with their latest 'endeavor'. Eugenie Isabelle Morrissey Pascale was in fact,
bitterly disappointed with that and with every last one of the men now ranged before her
in more of an anxious, murmuring huddle than the proper ranks she expected. They were waiting for her withering, mocking wrath to descend on them, and thus they dared not address her. She was waiting until they became a lot more than merely anxious; and thus
she said not a word to them.

But while they also dared not look at her, the tall, lithe-framed, silver-grey eyed, silver-
haired widow of General Phillips Napier Pascale was more than content to scrutinize them,
as if she had taken on all the late General's privileges and obligations. And she didn't miss
a single dangling coat button, torn pocket or poorly concealed wad of chewing tobacco on
their persons. But what genuinely unnerved the men, even those who'd known Pascale life-long, was when she abruptly began to stridently laugh at them.

'' Do you have any idea what you resemble, this fine morning, gentlemen?'' she asked,
still laughing. ''No, I didn't think it possible you would. You look, all of you, like nothing
quite so much as a band of battered old scarecrows, gathered, preparatory to being committed to the flames; but still desperately attempting to counterfeit living men,
and worse military officers and gentlemen, and worse still, Confederate officers!'' she
told them, sneering.

''In other words, you look like a collection of errant, ignorant, incredibly deluded fools!
And I must say I cannot begin to grasp how you blasted fools can believe it proper, still believe it well-done of you to show yourselves here in my house, in my home at all, much
less in this state of diverse disrepair, my fine fellows! And I know at least some of you are very well aware that your appearance, your manner and your hygiene would most certainly be considered, by my late, most gallant, most praiseworthy, and most judicious husband, General Phillips Napier Pascale, to be a court martial offense, my good sirs!

Furthermore, if I'm to credit at all the report I received from your hands last evening,
you've proven yourselves far, far worse than mere deluded fools. No, you've gone on from that benighted condition to proving yourselves utterly inadequate to carry out our grand endeavors! You would like, I am well assured, to be, in my estimation, my good sirs, loyal, devoted followers of our beloved, and brilliant Cause. You would like to consider yourselves still as soldiers, as officers serving our barbarously subjugated nation. And you would like,
I am quite certain; to be held up as examples of daring, loyalty and acumen, to those who share our love of that nation, our fair Confederacy, and that Cause, it's bitterly denied, but
still very much alive, in our minds and hearts and psyches, ultimate, inexorable triumph!

Instead, I firmly assure you, if your latest escapades were known in those circles; from
which we draw our initiative, our sustenance, and our inspiration, you would be reviled,
you would be despised and you would be drummed out of your present so-called service!
Needless to say, I shall hold my hand back from sending word on this latest failure, this
latest catastrophe, and this latest fiasco to our friends in the east. I would be too bitterly ashamed to hold my head up in their company, were they to learn of this!
And now I look at you, my good sirs. And instead of that same bitter shame, that same merciless remorse, that same keen compunction, I see not one inkling of realization just
how gravely you have failed our nation, our cause, our beloved General Pascale, and all
the men and boys who fell in their service! And you may well note, I see not one iota of
the proper self-reproach I would have expected from true Southrons, true Confederates,
and true gentlemen-soldiers, when they have so egregiously disheartened as gently bred
a Southron woman as myself! And how that lack of understanding, that lack of shame
could be possible, is quite, quite, I assure you, beyond my own comprehension!''

Now one of the men, the one who had the longest acquaintance of all of them, with the outraged woman stepped forward. This was her only surviving brother, Lee Henry Richard Morrissey. And as he was also her twin, Eugenie Pascale often seemed to some extent kindly disposed towards him and his interventions, even when, as now, she was heartily enjoying
yet another tirade.
''Now, Miss 'genie', ma'am,.'' Morrissey said, soothingly, as though he spoke to a raging, starving lioness. '' in fact, the boys are truly deeply remorseful about this … unanticipated
set-back. And I agree, dear lady, as do the boys here, that such things never should go unanticipated whatsoever. But as you yourself remind us on a commendably regular basis,
we are not renegades, we are not outlaws, brigands or desperadoes.
No, we are a military command. And this command is at war. We are at war with not only
our known, reviled adversaries set at us from Washington's City, but with all those who knowingly or unknowingly impede our grand endeavors. And in this last, highly regrettable, instance, we were clearly far less than adequately supplied with the correct information.
In other words, dear lady, our sources as regards the names on the roll were deceived, deficient or patently deceptive. And that sort of occurrence, my dearest Miss 'genie', must needs fall, at times, under the category of 'the fortunes of war'.''

''In other words, my dearest Lee Henry,'' Pascale said, scowling at him. '' this latest
fiasco potentially could not have been avoided? Well, if that is your belief, brother mine,
I fear you are far, far too forgiving, indulgent and forbearing than I can see fit to be in such
a case! You are after all suggesting, as I understand that in this instance those who allegedly informed us of the man Harper's whereabouts and particulars; either were lied to were incapable of asking the appropriate questions, or they are working to hinder and to deceive us! And you find that an endurable situation? Well, sir, I most certainly do not!''

''I have not said I find that an endurable, or in the least way acceptable situation, sister-
mine. No, I have only said that in some way the lines of communication in this instance
utterly failed us, not these boys, here. Indeed, it was our own, dear Tyler, who went to the trouble of finding out who the most recent person we encountered actually was. If he had not, we would have gone on supposing we'd taken Harper off the roll, not his putative cousin, not this Smith.''

''And just where is this putative cousin, now, Lee Henry? Why was he not brought securely into our hands? Why, instead was this person, who clearly saw a goodly number of our 'boys' here, and who could very easily warn off Harper, simply left behind that day?'' Pascale demanded to know.

'' Because he died there, Miss 'genie'. '' Morrissey answered. '' Therefore we saw no need to bring his remains anywhere at all, much less here. The natural elements and scavengers will have quite taken care of Harper's unfortunate cousin, by this time, surely.''

"Is that so?'' the woman asked, rounding on him, her silvery hair winging to each side of her oval face, looking very much like a scavenger bird herself. '' Or is that merely what you believe to be the case here, brother?''

'' The man has died, sister.'' Morrissey nodded, frowning himself, now. '' He's not going to be talking to anyone, now, not anyone this side of Perdition or Glory, much less his cousin. And that being the case, 'genie', dearest, I am uncertain as to why you would ask me such a distrustful question.''
'' Because, brother, because, Lee Henry, dearest, by your own life-long lacksidaisical lack of exactitude and meticulous correctness, you have now shown yourself the biggest fool in this room! Harper's cousin was removed from that streambed, brother. He was carried from there by two men who took him back to the emigrant train he apparently works for. He was taken from that place when you and your forces scattered at the sound of approaching riders, those two approaching riders, no more than two!
And before you try to contradict me, which you would only be doing at your own great peril; he was not conveyed from that site in any way, shape or fashion so as to suggest he had expired! No, brother-mine, instead he was borne from where our dear boys left him, still
alive and with the utmost vigilance and care, with the clear intent to maintain and preserve him so. And all that accurate information was garnered for me, after Solomon had made that
unimaginable error, by my own dear Jaimey and Phillips, not by any of you utterly pathetic fools!''

Solomon Howell, went rigid with anger, hearing himself thus lambasted. Usually, considering her various means and measures, and her monies, the dark eyed, dark-minded murderer in chief for Eugenie Pascale, forbore to react to her fits of temper. This morning though, his pride was stinging sharply with the word that he'd spent an afternoon pummeling nearly to death's door, a man who should never have encountered Howell and company! Now, to hear this proud, persistently challenging, provoking, altogether maddening Texan had somehow survived the beating Howell so gladly gave him, was insupportable!
And the widow of the man Howell would have ridden into Perdition for, had the equally insufferable gall to suggest that Solomon Howell turned tail and ran from perceived danger like a white-tailed deer, no, like a yellow bellied Yankee! Last and worst of all, to Howell's mind, this lunatic female dared imply that a pair of darkies, her pair of mulatto house 'boys' her 'own dear Jaimey and Phillips', had done a better job for the company and it's endeavors than he, himself!

'' Missus Pascale, ma'am.'' Howell spat her name. '' If you were a man, I should call you out and that, immediately for impugning my character, my exertions and my courage. As you are a lady, however, I will merely, with all the respect I believe is warranted, request your kind permission, to quit your employ, as of the present instant, ma'am.''

Eugenie Pascale turned now, and in doing so, slowly turned her wide, silvery-grey gaze from Morrissey to Howell. He was a dangerously wild-tempered fellow, so her late husband had admitted, but thoroughly loyal, absolutely committed to their mutual goals. And he did amuse her, at times like this, by displaying a manic, almost antique sense of ante bellum personal honor. And he was neither a sane nor a stable enough man to safely let out of one's grasp.
So, she shook her head and smiled, the latter action meant to soften the former.

'' But I will not permit that, Solomon, my dear man. As Lee Henry points out this is a military situation, to be handled in just that way and no other. You and your cohort can and will muster out, as I believe the phrase is, when this situation is wholly, and entirely resolved, and not so much as an instant before that glorious hour arrives. That, after all was the agreement made upon your enlistment with the late General, my husband. And nothing, including his sad passing has ensued to in any way abrogate the sacred oaths you took, then.

However, as a Southron gentlewoman, I deeply respect the standards you hold yourself too, and which you expect others to maintain as well. Therefore I would beg the favor of your allowing me to rescind any remarks that seemed offensive to you, just then. No doubt, as
Lee Henry pointed out, in this instance, regarding Harper's cousin, we all were deprived of
the correct information, and thus, whether intentionally or otherwise, deceived. Perhaps
some small effort should be expended now, to determine whether we were consciously, deliberately lied to, or not. Might I just possibly ask you to undertake such an effort for
our company, Solomon?''

'' Missus Pascale, ma'am, I would have done so, I would surely have undertaken that mission, with your permission, of course, ma'am; even if you had not made so cordial a request.''

Howell told her, and bowed from the waist, as was only proper when a lady acted like a lady and treated a gentleman as he should be treated.

The woman was patently insane; he knew that. And that bothered Howell not a whit. His commitment, his oath, as she herself noted, had been made to the late General, and
to the now extinct Confederate States of America. Solomon Howell would not, and indeed considered he could not, in truth, rescind that oath from anyone except General Pascale himself. And their next encounter would be, whether in Glory or in Perdition, it mattered not, the gunman believed, a long time in coming. He had however made his point and received her attention, her awareness of his own genteel sensibilities. That would suffice, Solomon Howell now decided, once more, until and unless her rages and her contempt for the men of the company, drove them all into the jaws of disaster.

''Very well, then.'' Pascale smiled like a belle at her beaux. '' Gentlemen, please do excuse me, now. I have my morning ride to take, although with some melancholy; recollecting as I always do, our dearest General's long habit of insisting he accompany me.
Ah, Napier, dearest, there you are! And you managed a leave for our dearest Neddy, too!'' she now exclaimed, looking towards the great main threshold of the old mansion, looking at her house servants, Jaimey and Phillips Johnston, but seeing in their place, what no one else present could see.
''How very glad I am to have you both with me this gorgeous morning! Let us go riding, my dears, at once, while it is still so cool and fresh out of doors. Neddy, you know very well I shall not permit you to ride in the heat of the day, my dearest. You are as susceptible as momma was to such extreme exertion. And I fear, no, Neddy, I do, I seriously fear we may be facing another long, sweltering afternoon. And Napier, how very lovely of you to surprise me by getting our Neddy home! We must most certainly have a grand celebration, a week of parties, just like in the fine old days! Please do tell: How long are my two most favorite, most heroic gentlemen callers permitted to stay with me, this time?''

The mulattos only nodded and as long since ritualized, each held out an arm to Pascale. Beaming and chattering like a girl at her coming-out, Eugenie Pascale walked with her most constant of companions, onto the portico of the old house. The men behind her now knew from past observation of this ritual the general's widow had entirely forgotten them. But only a handful of them knew that instead of the two manservants, Pascale now genuinely believed herself to be walking between the darkly handsome, stalwart figure of her 'dearest General', and the classically fair, striking form of her younger brother, Edward Robert Denys Morrissey.

When that bizarre trio was well out of view and out of ear's range as well, Lee Henry Morrissey
turned to put one hand on Howell's shoulder, and one, to Howell's renewed annoyance, on
'Tyler Pierce'/ Teo Bracamante's shoulder as well.

''Well, Sol, that was a near thing, a very near thing indeed. And I know you sometimes
believe that our 'genie' deliberately seeks to provoke you. But having known her, life-long,
I can assure you again, my friend that she merely enjoys a fine, high rage or two. It seems
to get her blood up, and her mental processes as well.. Well, it does on most occassions. You handled the matter like a Southron gentleman, and I am grateful for that, as are we all.

And as you might imagine, old friend, I have another favor to ask, before you take up your 'mission' as regards our misinformant. I ask, Solomon, and I expect you to comply with
my request, rather than my putting it in terms of an order, that you immediately drop your wholly unwarranted suspicions of Tyler, here. We must be at war only with our foes, with
our quite genuine and very determined adversaries, gentlemen, not within our own cohort. Do I have your compliance with this essential request, Solomon, or must I contradict myself and issue it as an order?''

'Pierce' said nothing, keeping his lean features and his wide dark eyes impassive. He'd been asking Morrissey to mediate the feud Howell seemed to want with him for months now. The tension this second in command to Morrissey liked to create was bad for the group, yes, but even worse for a spy in their midst, like Teo.
And the roiling madness Teo Bracamante had reluctantly watched Howell unleash on Cooper Smith, nearly six days ago now, was a real peril to them all, killers and targets alike. Teo
had taken months to solidify his place amongst these maniacs, to learn which ones were immovably committed to their murderous 'endeavors' and which were beginning to be uneasy with them. Howell's inherent distrust of most of the world, although quite legitimate now, was a threat to everything Teo was attempting to do; his assignment being to drive however many rifts, and sow as many seeds of discord between these killers as was humanly possible. It was a threat, unless, the Creole had begun to consider, he could use Howell's narrow focus on those he hated and mistrusted to further alienate some of 'the Company' from him, perhaps even Morrissey! [ Si, that just might turn the trick here! ]

'' Pardon, por favor, Senor Lee Henry, I believe we need not ask Senor Solomon anything of that nature. He is a fine, natural leader, second only to yourself in my own humble estimation, at least. I have no wish to create contention or conflict within the Company. [Well, that was a big enough lie to take me straight to confession, next chance I get!] Teo thought and swallowed a laugh.

''And it may be I've misconstrued or miscomprehended Senor Solomon's naturally strong, suspicions of the younger men here; those who, like myself, did not serve with General Pascale. I shall always, of course greatly regret not having that same tremendous opportunity. Clearly, I should have tried to understand his motives. Surely Senor Solomon only wishes the Company's success and nothing more. That being the case, I should absolutely make you my most sincere apologies, Senor Solomon, and so I do, sir.''

[ Teo, you're turning into an awfully talented liar. Has someone been giving you grifting lessons on the side? ] the Creole could imagine Jemmy Singer laughing.

''Well, Senor Solomon?'' Morrissey asked, with a taut half grin on his saturnine features.
''What do you say to such a gentlemanly offer as that?''

''I say I'm the one to be trusted more than anyone else here, second only to you, Lee Henry.'' Howell scowled, sneering. '' And anyone who thinks I have any motives other than the Company's success just hasn't been paying good enough attention! And I say, except for finding persons of interest, names on the roll from N'Orleans and maybe from some parts of Texas; I don't begin to figure what we're doin' with Spics like him and Matty in the Company, to begin with! Bad enough Miss 'genie' can't do without her damn nosey, bothersome darkies! But I don't do the recruitin' around here, now do I?''

Teo/Tyler felt his backbone stiffen and pushed down both his shoulders and a very strong
urge to drive his fist into Howell's thin face, and scrawny gut, several times, with no small force. But he held his arm and his voice and his outwardly calm demeanor. This he had seen and was learning to copy from the words, actions and impassive countenance Jemmy Singer nearly always showed under pressure.

''But, Solomon, my old friend, in this case…'' Morrissey prompted, with a cold glance that brooked no further challenges.

''But Lee Henry, my old friend, in this case, and at your particular request, I will, as a Southron gentleman, accept Senor Pierce's proffered apologies. And that's all I'm ever gonna say on the subject.'' Howell answered, turned on his heel and strode away, back towards the back of the old house and the stables behind it.

Once again 'Pierce' said nothing, waiting as was proper in an officer, for his commander to initiate or stop any further conversation.

''He's got quite the temper, ol' Senor Solomon does, Ty. And quite the mouth on him, as well. I suppose it's something I've simply gotten used to, after all this while. It's likely wrong of me to allow him so much leeway, I suppose. '' Morrissey mused.

''And despite your fine, well mannered, offered and shoddily accepted apologies, I remain well pleased you brought your concerns to me, my lad. We are a tiny, tiny force here. And we have enemies by the hundreds, yes even by the thousands, enough to kill us all a few thousand times over. And if they are not yet, I do not see how it can be long before they are ranged against us.
We should not be distracted, as my old friend sometimes seems, with needlessly rattling the nerves of our cohort. You handled yourself as a gentleman must, just then, Ty, as a true hidalgo. So, even though I must press on to our next destination, I tell you in the utmost solemnity, Tyler, I wish you to continue bringing, or if need be, sending me word of any further dissension within the cohort. Will you accept that as a private commission from me, my lad?''

''Senor Padron Morrissey, in all candor, I'd far rather travel with you. However, I am greatly honored, Senor. '' Tyler/Theo said, falling back on his native tongue as though too moved to speak in any other. '' Me honran altamente, Senor, y continuare lo mas ciertamente possible mis esfuerzos aquí, agradezco a te, thank you, sir, for your kind words and your confidences. They are in no way insignifant to me, sir. I hold them very dear, sir

''Gracias, muy gracias.'' Morrissey answered, reminding Teo that he was fluently multi-lingual.
''Oh, and one thing more, Tyler lad, I know that our Miss 'genie' and our Solomon, to a great extent were not genuinely concerned that the cohort detained and had some words with a person not strictly among those in whom we retain our central interest. I've known them
both so long I know they no longer seem to have a very pragmatic perspective on matters such as whether or not that young Smith should have been detained at all, or assaulted
.But I for one was not displeased to know that someone we have no interest in at all did not in fact die at our hands. That's of course supposing he's survived thus far. I don't want Solomon or any of the Company facing the gallows for a killing in cold blood, such as we have never in fact intended.
That sort of indifferent , almost random killing, no, that seems to me comes far too close to turning the Company into what we must never be, Tyler: outlaws, desperados, renegades, or worse, mere roaming brigands. And I tell you this, Lad , because I feel you have the properly gentlemanly understanding to take it in, that you may even share my opinions. I don't know that I could say the same for most the lads here. They are all good, devoted lads, of course. I know that. I've entrusted them, after all, with my dear sister's safety and well being, not to say her good name. ''

''Senor, if I may be so … if I may, once more, speak to you with the same candor you always show to me…'' Teo said, wondering what Morrissey was trying to tell him.

''Please do, Ty. I'm not looking forward to the next long leg of my travels. I'm not therefore in any sort of hurry. ''

''Gracias, Senor. Clearly some of the younger men here, Senor, Rand , Dev, Matty, young Phillipsen and Miller, do not have your years of perspective. They have largely come to the cohort seeking to vent their energies and their frustrations with the world as it is, since the Conflict. They are willing to take orders, and they are wholly devoted to you, Senor. Some of them, I believe may carry a different sort of devotion, no disrespect intended, Senor, towards your sister. She has a very … dynamic spirit, which greatly impresses young men at a certain point in their lives. And of course, young Jaimey and Phillips would gladly lay down their lives for 'Miss Eugenie.
The others, however, Brady, Tanner, Hoynes, Stewart, and in one sense, el senors Adamson, Geronne and Montagu very well understand the true goals, the founding purpose of
this Company. And, Senor, like myself, they share it. We are here because we must seek
out justice, we must right the wrongs done our friends and brothers in arms, and we must
set matters to rights, once more. And we are, Senor, unwavering in our intention to carry those goals, and that purpose to its only right conclusion.

O, pardon, Senor, I would of course add that your young son, young senor Eduardo, as we would call him in my home parish, is utterly in agreement with those objectives. He will do whatever is asked, go wherever he must, and take on any responsibility you may choose
to give him, as regards the Company, as regards these grand endeavors. And, Senor, I
myself would deem it a tremendous honor, should you allow me to befriend and keep
watch for young senor Morrissey, when you are …when you are called away, Sir. In that
way, you would need have no misgivings in his regard, Senor.''

'' He can be somewhat overeager, and importunate, at times. And well I know it . Tyler , that's why, instead of asking for your quite enjoyable company on my impending journey westward, I have agreed to take Neddy with me. And I would rather he not continue his
near infatuation with our Solomon's more brutal means and measures. I was not well pleased, and I've told our zealous Solomon this, to learn that Neddy took an integral part in the last two most recent endeavors.
My son will not, if I can only intervene in time, grow into a killer who does his bloody work
for the sport of it. I'd send him to the Sahara in Africa, the Gobi in the Orient or to the Alaskan Artic if need be to prevent that! But I believe some time with his old father may stem that particularly worrisome tide. Thank you for your kind words, Ty, lad. And thank you for your most kind offer. I will most certainly accept it. I do fear for Neddy, Tyler. I surely do.

He was young boy, when the Conflict raged, and so, like the other lads here, my son has
little real understanding of the destitution, terrible losses, the constant mourning, the privation, and the ignominy his homeland suffered. These boys here, they listen so avidly to our old war stories. And I know they find them exciting, or worse yet, highly romantic!
And how can they understand, except by their own griefs and losses, their own sufferings and sacrifices what truly motivates men such as you and I? And I cannot wholly spare Neddy that learning. But I must try, as a father, surely I am within my rights to seek some measure of protection for my only surviving child, the only real legacy our family has to take into the future.'' Morrissey said, his words, and his confidences amazing the Creole.

'' Si, Senor, that is no more than any father would wish to do.'' Teo agreed.

'' Yes, yes, any father… You're right, of course. And Neddy had.. you won't know this, and
I'm not sure he fully recalls it, three older brothers, three, Tyler, I once had four healthy, thriving, eager, and truly valiant sons. Daniel, Jeremy, Andrew and Lee Edward. Danny,
Jere,and Drew went off to that … Boy's Conflict… and never returned. Now, I have only the youngest, only Neddy… And I suppose that only serves to make me feel that much older,
that much more mortal. Thank you, once more, Tyler. I think you must have had a very
wise father or grandfather yourself to be so compassionate towards a young man you have
no … obligation to. Thank you. I must get to my travel preparations now. Miss 'genie' doesn't at all appreciate my genteel, unrushed manner. Good day, lad and I thank you.''

''De nada, Senor Padron. De nada.'' Teo answered, as the older man, who'd often
seemed just as zealous, just as keen for the 'measures' taken by the Company as
Howell, Adamson, Montagu, Geronne or Pascale, strode back up the mansion's central
grand staircase.
Was he becoming disillusioned, now? Was he going to disavow the cohort and his old
friend, and his sister, as well as their grand endeavors? Or was he only wearied, and
rightly in some fear, as he said, for young Neddy? I would be, to see my son start to
hero-worship a lunatic like Howell! And this mistaken attack on this Texan was this truly a watershed, a turning point for these ardent killers? Had they themselves created the fissure that would tear the cohort apart once and for all, thus ending their plans, schemes and endeavors? No more honor amongst murderers, surely exists, than among thieves. Are the
Morrisseys, old and young, the keys that unlock the floodgates on their 'Company'?

Stay alive, young Texan. I had no chance to do more than prevent your murder. I had no
time to tell you of much more than my own connection to Jemmy Singer. I didn't' even
call you by your right name, Cooper Smith. I couldn't. Not when you were clearly more than ready to take the blows meant for your cousin.
Now that was some kind of muy loco, too, amigo! Or maybe not. Maybe you realized as well as I did, that you could still end up dead in that streambed, no matter who these murderers thought you were. That was a great mistake on Howell's part. He knew and he knows now that your murder or rather, Harper's was nowhere in his orders. Howell's a born killer; and clearly has come too far, waded in too much blood by this time to have any scruples or any control at all over his killing rages.
Stay alive. I'd very much like to talk to you about what kind of crazy man takes an almost fatal beating for his cousin! Maybe I just have too many dozens and scores of cousins to truly understand that kind of willing forfeit. And my cousin, Matty, well, he's more like my brother, so I think he knows I'd do the same for him. But that whole melee at the stream, Smith, you might not believe me if I said you got off lucky.
Because, like Senor Padron Morrissey says, that was a near thing, Texan, a very near thing. And you don't want to know what was in the cards for you, if 'Senor Solomon' held his temper and actually followed orders! I know you could tell 'our dear Miss 'genie' is as plain crazy as
they come. What you don't know is what she meant in saying she'd see you again, but you wouldn't likely see her. And you don't want to know, amigo.
She is likely the most dangerously insane woman I've ever encountered. She and Howell, Geronne, Adamson and Montagu, they are the ones who must be stopped! All the others, I come to believe would not have lifted a finger against their string of 'targets' without their driving force. And your survival, your recollections, your words will put the quietus at last
to that. Stay alive a month, or two, at the least. You saw almost half their faces, and heard their voices. I don't doubt you remember very well the men who were well on their way to murdering you outright! So, stay alive, Texan, if only to exercise your perfect right to send Solomon Howell to a gibbet. Stay alive, Cooper Smith.

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CHAPTER TEN Plum Creek, Nebraska on the North Platte River, the 1870s

[ Stay alive, Coop. Just stay alive. ] Chris Hale thought fiercely at the all too quiet man on
the bed before him. [ That's all I'm … No, that's not all I'm asking you to do, right now, my friend. I'm also going to insist you wake up open your eyes, look at me, hear my voice, and know who I am, in pretty much that order. Then, we can move on to little things like being able to walk, talk and stay awake when you want to. But first you really need to wake up. We need…No, make that I need to finish the conversation we dropped like a ton of bricks when Lissa Burke was found dead…found murdered. And that, my friend, seems like an eon ago, when in fact it's been less than a month, since then!]

The Wagonmaster dry scrubbed at his tired grey eyes and weary face in general. But he didn't and he hadn't taken his eyes off the scout for more than an instant, since Duke carried Coop back into the circle-up, both of them on Duke's own big chestnut gelding. It was easy enough to tell Coop's 'Gambler' from Duke Shannon's 'Soldier', a subtle increase in height, and a broad white blaze on Soldier's handsome face marked him out, just as Gambler's red gold mane and tail, a strip of white on his face, and lack of any stockings, did him. What wasn't easy a bit was seeing Coop, lolling like a rag doll or a broken puppet in the younger, taller scout's grasp.

[ And that was nearly a week ago! ] Hale mentally scolded the scarily still and soundless Texan. [ So what, you ask? So, it's about time you stopped lollygagging there! Don't you think we've all got better things to do just now than stand around while you malinger? No, apparently you don't think that for a minute. But I do, Coop! I do! You're not even much for imagined conversations, are you? So, I'm standing here, talking to myself, am I? Going dottier than Charlie, you are, that's what, old man! Going positively … ]

''Chris?'' a clear, carrying young voice called out, and Hale had to stop himself from jumping, just before he realized Jemmy Singer stood in the open doorway of this sickroom, in this small hospice, in the small town of Plum Creek. ''Are you alright? Chris?''

'' I'm not your patient, Jemmy lad.'' Hale answered. ''I'm fine… No, not fine, but … alright, I guess. I think Coop might be sleeping… It's gotten so I'm not sure I can tell.''

''So, you're not my patient, not yet, is what you mean to say? Well, you just might be one
of these days, real soon now; you're that exhausted. And it won't help …'' Singer shook his head, already aware of how stubborn this New Englander could be.

'' It won't help Coop a bit if I collapse? Is that what you were going to tell me?''

'' Prett much. Could I at least get you to sit down a spell, have some soup, some bread,
some good strong black-Irish 'tae'? You know the kind I mean, Chris. You can just about stand a spoon up in, that strong it is.'' Jemmy smiled at the man he was coming to respect and like more each day.

''What are you now, my mother?'' Chris complained, looking back over at Coop.

''Hardly. I'd imagine she's gone to Glory quite some long time, now. Now, let's see if the boyyo truly is asleep or no.'' Jemmy walked to the bedside, and leaning over, gently opened Coop's eyes one at a time, checking for the size of his pupils, the clarity of his cornea, and a couple other less significant tell tales. That done, the Carolinian checked his cousin's pulse, his skin temperature, and the splint immobilizing the Texan's left arm, to let his collarbone do it's own knitting.

''Well?'' Chris asked, a thousand questions in the single word.

''Well, he's not asleep, exactly. And he's not wholly unconscious either. This is good news, Chris. This is a change for the better. Try not to look so shocked, no matter what I tell you.
It'll be good practice for when Coop's fully awake and aware again. He won't be able to miss that long face you've been wearing. ''

'' He won't, you say. When he's fully awake and aware, you say. And you see a real potential for all that, just by looking at Coop's eyes and checking his pulse?''

'' Actually, yes, I do. His pulse is less erratic than it was a few days ago. It's growing stronger, in fact. His eyes are clear as daylight, and very well reactive to the light in here, I 'd add. He's not going to follow my finger or the light in here, just yet. But there's no reason to believe
he won't, again, as I said, when he's aware of his surroundings, again. There have been, as well, strong indications that his hearing has not been impaired in the least, not that we really expected it would be. I'd add that even though it was in a delirium, when his fever spiked the other evening, Coop clearly showed he can talk as well as ever. But…'' Jemmy paused, and seemed to be scrutinizing Hale as closely as he'd done Coop the moment before.

'' But what? What are you leaving out of that extraordinarily optimistic prognosis?'' Chris demanded.

'' I'm afraid …'' Jemmy shook his head and went quiet.

''Jemmy!'' Hale exclaimed, his nerves well past 'taut'.

'' He'll never play the violin again.'' Jemmy cracked wise, his trademark daylight bright grin stretching across his sharp features.

'' Well that's a relief at least!'' Duke Shannon laughed, as he joined them.

''You two have a truly bizarre sense of humor.'' Hale protested. '' But I suppose you know that.''

''We know, Chris.'' the guilty parties chorused, grinning.

'' And I'm… before you both say it, well and truly exhausted. And I still need to talk to you, Mr. Shannon and your other three far- roving colleagues. Where are they?''

''Downstairs, Chris.'' Duke told him. '' We thought we could talk, like you said; while we got some supper, at that dining hall across the way.''

''Bring me back some soup, will you, fellows?'' Jemmy asked, as innocently as a child, although Hale was sure he'd been benevolently conspired against, again.

'' Alright, I will go to supper.'' Chris agreed. '' I'll go just as soon as this exceedingly sanguine Tar Heel and I have a more substantive conversation. My regards to the crew, Duke, I'll be there as soon as I can. ''

'' Yes, sir.'' Duke nodded. He knew pretty well when Hale's expression and tone of voice allowed leeway for joshing and when it didn't. It didn't at all, right now. The blond scout left the way he'd come. Jemmy glanced at Coop again, then claimed the window seat at the front of the sickroom. A rocker next to it had been Hale's self appointed post for most of six days, now. Chris claimed the rocker and raised one eloquent eyebrow in Jemmy's direction.

The young doctor sighed and shook his head '' Chris, I'm not exaggerating anything, here. Why in the very devil would I? Coop's recovering and yes, we're damnably lucky that's so.
But I told you, that very first night I had no other real expectation. And nothing's happened
to change my mind on that score, well, nothing now that his fever's broken. I admit now that
got me worried. And I admitted as much at the time.''

'' Yes, you did. And I'm sorry, in a way to be such an old curmudgeon. But in another way, Jemmy, I'm not one bit sorry. I bear a vast responsibility to that young man. And its one
he doesn't even know about, yet!'' Chris frowned, one strong hand fisted below his chin.
''And frankly, I can't quite bring myself to joke, not quite yet, about Coop's recovery. No,
not quite yet, I can't. I haven't seen a young, healthy man come as close to passing as
Coop did, each of the first two nights we had him back, not since the War. So, I'm not quite sure how you can be so calm and collected, my young doctor friend, unless of course you're shamming.''

'' Sh!'' Jemmy exclaimed in a stage whisper. '' Nobody who's not a doctor is supposed to know we do that! But you came prett close to being one, didn't you? Didn't you work in field hospitals during the War?''

'' I did. A lot of people did, who wanted to be doing something, then. And so, you were pretending … ''

'' No. That's not what I meant. Let's start over, shall we? Of course, you're right, Coop nearly died those first two horrid nights, those first three awful days. And I was terrified he would. And I couldn't help him, or you, his closest friends while letting that terror run me. That's
what I meant. But I'm sure you saw through it, anyway. My partner, Adam Morgan's the most gifted actor I know. In fact he could likely fool the sun into rising in the west, if he put his ingenious mind to it, but it's not my forte. So, what else, what more can I tell you, Chris, that might set your mind at ease?''

'' You've said more than once you don't find and don't expect to find any trouble Coop could have with his eyes, with his vision. But, there's something I haven't found the time to tell you. And it's why I'm not as confident as you, about that, just for starters. Three years ago, Coop's face and eyes were burned in an explosion. And for something like a month, maybe a little more, there was nothing to be done, once the burns were treated as well as they ever could be. There was nothing to be done, that is, but wait to find out if he had been blinded. And I think it truly marked Coop, simply the not knowing for weeks if he would see again, or not.
He had a rough time of it, then.

And now, as I've understood from you, he sustained a skull fracture, in the process of nearly being murdered. And Jemmy, I'm no doctor, but I've seen a lot of head injuries in my time. And so this is what truly … scares me, now. The way a man can take an injury like Coop's
and walk away from it, seemingly, absolutely fine; and drop down dead weeks or months later; and the way a man can be injured in this way, and there's no way at all to tell what's been damaged inside his skull, what effects he may suffer or when they'll appear. So, when I saw Coop that first night, and he was bleeding not just from his nose and mouth, but his ears as well… '' Chris stopped and shook his head, not able to get the rest of his thought out.

'' You were certain sure there was little or no hope for Cooper at that point.'' Jemmy finished.
''And that's where all my med school reading can actually come in handy. That bleeding from his ears helped us, Chris. It helped by very nearly pinpointing where his skull was fractured.
And the fact is, we're learning more all the time, with about a thousand years more of learning we could do, yet, about what injuries in different parts of the head, the skull will end up doing.

But before I go on with that part of this. The other thing you need to know is that Coop's past head injuries; including the burns you described won't have a cumulative effect. And especially in the case of injuries as different as burns and blows to the head. They're apples and oranges. They don't, and they can't build on each other.
So, in this case, this time, what I've learned is that Coop's likely to have some memory loss on a temporary basis, that's one effect, caused by the brain moving sharply within the skull. He's likely to have some bad headaches and dizziness for a time. I'd be surprised if he didn't, in fact. But I'm as sure as I can be without being able to look inside Coop's head that he must have somehow moved or shifted away from the object delivering that blow to the back of his head, and thus received a much less damaging blow.
And what I was saying earlier, Chris are some of the reasons I think that's true. Coop could have had some vision problems, almost immediately, he's had none. He could have had some temporary hearing loss, he's had none of that, either. And he's not been wholly unconscious for more than an hour or two at a time, since we found him. His speech, as I said hasn't been affected, either.
All these things tell me Coop's brain is functioning almost entirely as it should, considering the punishment he and it took. And the skull will knit itself with time, just as any other bone will. Other than that, you know that Coop's left collarbone was broken, his lower right leg as well; and he's got every sort of bump, bruise, welt and contusion known to man on him right now. He definitely has some badly broken ribs, too. Those very likely led to a partial collapse of his right lung, the second night.
And that was scary, I agree. Cooper was suddenly having a lot of pain, not just difficulty breathing, a lot of pain with it. That told me air that should have been circulating in his lungs and chest, had leaked into the pleural cavity between the lungs and the chest wall. And that's when I asked you and Duke to hold Coop still, while I drew that air out of where it shouldn't have been with a syringe. I've seen no signs since that night of the same kind of difficulty, much less the same level of pain with his breathing.
Last on my list, and this the one is really what I've been watching Coop for the least sign of
in the past few days, is the real possibility he sustained damage to his liver, there may be bruising of one the lobes, there may be tearing, or an abscess may have formed. And with
all of those we're definitely looking at a real threat of infection. But, in Cooper's case, I don't yet know if he has any liver damage.
However, I also know a procedure, a technique you may not have heard of. It's one I learned on my last visit to the Sorbonne, in fact, that can and does work to get rid of a liver abscess. It's fairly simple in fact, the physician takes a rather fine and long-needled syringe and instead of injecting something, draws the contents of the abscess out. And as always in medical schools, and especially for courses on surgical methods, I've watched one, more than one, in fact, more like a dozen, of these procedures, I've assisted at several and I've performed them on my own.''

''So, what are these signs of damage to Coop's liver that you're watching for?'' Chris asked, in such a quiet tone that Jemmy realized the older man understood the dangers involved more than he wished to. '' And how will you know you need to do this… procedure, how will you know if Coop has an abscess on his liver?''
'' External bruising is the first, but considering how bruised up Cooper is, that could be hard
to differentiate. a marked lack of appetite that can get to the point of purging, is another. Then there's what we'd called referred pain, meaning its pain arising from an internal source, manifesting as discomfort, or outright pain in the entire quadrant of the body where the involved organ resides.
For the liver, that's the upper right quadrant. And lastly, swiftly increasing chills and a spiking fever, which are prett sure markers for infection. And well as to your last question, Chris, I'd feel for an abscess, I'd see if I can palpate one, and get an idea of which lobe of the liver it's attached to. Did you have a particular reason for asking that question?'' Jemmy asked the Wagonmaster.

'' Yes, I did. And I'll tell you what that is in just a moment. But first of all, Jemmy, you've given me quite a laundry list of troubles and potential troubles for our young firebrand over there. So I need to ask, you, why you're not sitting there looking as worried, no, make that looking as scared as I feel, right this minute?'' the Wagonmaster demanded to know.

The young doctor smiled as reassuringly as he knew how, which was considerably, and nodded, answering Hale. ''Because all of Cooper's injuries, are ones that will heal on
their own, given enough time. And that's including the potential outcomes I've just
described to you, from blunt force trauma to his liver, meaning the beating he took to
his upper right quadrant. A smallish abscess will often resolve on its own. Coop's vigorous good health, is a lot in our favor. He's actually doing most of the fighting for us, for himself. We all do, when we're sick or injured, it's just not on any sort of conscious level. So, now, about your other question?''

Chris sighed and shook his head wearily. '' Jemmy, almost as soon as we met, you and I agreed not to discuss any further my old acquaintance with Coop's family, your family. Well,
I can't keep to that agreement now; not and do what is patently my duty here. So here it is:

I was warmly befriended by both Coops' parents, years and years ago, and through them I met your own, and young Jess' parents, as well. And so, when Coop was born, I came down to Raleigh, to I think it was your great-uncle's beautiful, old home there, And at Danny and Beth's adamant 'appeal I became Coop's g-dfather. Well, my old friends are gone now, all
of Coop's immediate family, is gone.
And now, I've been presented rather soundly with the fact that I have to do for Coop what I swore I would do, stand in place of Danny… of his father, who was my dear, dear friend. That being the case, since, just at the moment, Coop can't … speak for himself, I'm giving you my full permission to take any and all measures needed. Not that I think you wouldn't do so, not at all, my friend. I … just needed to tell you.''

''Thanks, Chris.'' Jemmy said with a quiet smile, '' I'm honored to have your confidence, truly.
Now, one last point, before I let you think I'm completely naïve, medically speaking. Right now, despite all that Cooper's endured, time is still on our side, in our favor, in many ways. And it's against us, in another. And because you know my cousin as well as you do, Chris,
you must surely know what my nightmare has been, once I felt sure I understood all I can about what's going on with Cooper. It's how to get my obdurate cousin Cooper to give us, to give himself, really, the time he has to have for all these healing processes to take hold, to take root and do their incredible work. And looking at you, Chris, I see you know exactly what I mean!''

'' I most certainly do!'' Chris found himself almost laughing. '' That young rapscallion, as
soon as he thinks he's able to do anything but lay there, will become his own worst enemy. And I've fought that particular fight with all three scouts I've worked with. They're strong, independent young men who, despite sharing a fair amount of common sense when it comes to trails, Indians, rifles, horses, weather and all that, have none whatsoever as regards themselves and their own well-being! And knowing that for certain sure is the reason I've taken a decision. The train leaves tomorrow or the next day. But without me. I'm staying
right here, until that Texas born black Irish magnet for disaster and I can ride up the trail
and get back to work, again. ''
''And that's what you're getting ready to tell the fellows?''

'' Yes, and they're … well, I don't know how they're going to take it. But my mind's made up. They should know by now it won't be changed by means of arguments. You've got yourself another pair of very willing, helping hands, Jemmy. And they're all getting promotions, for the foreseeable.''

''Well, congratulate them all for me, especially Barney. He's been a genuine trooper through all this.''

'' That I will, Jemmy lad. That I will.'' Hale said and with one glance at his chief scout, strode away from the sickroom.

Jemmy turned to watch the man on the bed and sighed.

''Cousin, you know that New Englander Irishman better than I. So don't be surprised if he comes back in here and sits on you, to keep you from doing for yourself! Not only that, Cooper, but I'll be more than glad to help Chris do just that and whatever more it takes!
You could have died, Cousin, and seeing what I saw that day, its prett clear those maniacs would still have just left you there, if you had done!
You and I have talked about this, how many times since I came back down to Nacogdoches when your momma passed on? Cousin Beth was … absolutely, absolutely the best, Coop!
But you know that. That time it was just a good distraction for us, from grieving our loss.
We talked for hours, and hours, that couple of weeks, you and I and Jess. And of course a
lot of it was we'd hardly seen one another since … spring of '61, when we all had such hard choices to make.
So we sat and jawed, we got completely falling down drunk, and we even snuck behind the stables to smoke a pipe or a cigar, just like when we were boys. But none of us were boys by then, not anymore. And we talked about the boys who weren't coming home. You just barely managed to talk to Jess and me about Jeff. Jess talked to us about the prison camp he was taken to. I talked to both of you about the field hospitals and the receiving ones, and the ambulances… all that. I probably did most of the talking, like always.
And I shared my worst nightmare from the War with both you and Jess. The same one I'm having again, now, this week! I wake up hoarse with shouting, with screaming from it, Coop. It's all about boys who we all saw march for miles on end, in good order, at a good pace, leaving a battlefield; and simply dropped down dead when a halt was finally called or they reached the camps. Not a mark on them that we could find, which meant either deep internal injuries or just plain killing exhaustion of their minds and bodies and spirits killed them where they stood!
And it's all about the other boys, the ones who left limbs or blood or half themselves on
those killing fields! And it's all about the boys who made it to the hospitals, recovered,
got back their strength and marched back to the damn firing lines and died! And I'd help send them back, Cousin, that was a big part of my work in those days! And it shouldn't have, I shouldn't have let it, but it broke my heart, Cooper, every last time!
Well, you don't get to break my heart, Cousin. And I mean it. I'll shackle you to that bed, before I let you up and going again… too soon. Because that's what will do for you, Cooper.
It will. So, you're going to be really furiously angry with me, for a time, Cousin. I know that. I'm ready for that. What I'm not ready for is burying my best friend-cousin. And I know you, Nathaniel Kieran Cooper Smith, I know what you're most going to want to do is go after the bloody lunatics who took you for Jess.
Well, rest easy on that score, Cousin. I've got some friends working on stopping those madmen in their tracks. And you likely saw one or two of them, standing with those killers; but only because they're spying on them. In fact, I'm wondering now if Rand or Matty, or my young friend Chris, maybe even that muy loco y muy valiente Teo, didn't somehow manage to send Gambler runnin' back to the train?
And, yes, I've sent Jess word of what he needs to look out for. Haven't heard back, of course. When did Jess ever write a letter? Speaking of Jess, you do know that young hothead is going to have a few choice words for you, right, Coop? He won't exactly 'cotton' to the idea that you let those maniacs go on thinking you were Jess Harper, a man they want to kill!
Well, I'll leave that for you and Jess to hash out, Cousin. Just open your eyes, start practicing opening your eyes on your own, Coop. You were doing it the other day, the other night. I don't think what you saw then exactly registered with you. Your fever was still spiking. But if we're really, really lucky, Cousin, you won't have another fever. And I think we've been damnably lucky, so far, touch wood, as Mac Macquillan likes to say. Yes, he's another Irishman. You'd like him, so would your friend Chris Hale, as Mac's from Boston.

But you haven't bothered opening those blue eyes, the ones you always had girls mooning over, not in a couple days now. And what I truly think is the reason, is you're just being plumb lazy. Got yourself a chance to lay around, doin' next to nothing, and you're eating it up like Granpa Nate's hard candies! And yes, I did give that 'exceedingly sanguine' prognosis to your friend… our friend Chris, just then and I meant it. But you need to put your shoulder to the wheel, right along with us, now. Alright, if you don't feel like looking at my ugly mug right now, just talk to me, Cooper! So, get to it, Cousin! C'mon now, say something!''

'' some…thin' … hey, Jem! Jem!… where'd …you pop … from? Teo…Teo .. Gam… Gamb ler back. Smacked him … a good one … Th' rump… nope, Th' flank… the scout muttered, and squinted up at the doctor. '' Teo clipped … me a… good one, too. He's…. muy loco! Why're
y' yell… yellin' … me 'bout that? ''

'' Got your attention didn't it?'' Jemmy joked, letting go a huge sigh of relief. ''And I wasn't yellin', Cousin. You'd know if I was yellin'… I rode up from Kearney, while you were riding further up the trail. I reached the train… something over a week ago. Lucky thing, b'cause
as usual, you stood in some need of a doctor.''

'' Mebbee, but that still doesn't tell me what you're doin here, Jemm...'' Coop started to chuckle and then to groan. '' Pretty dang busted up, ain't I?''

'' Prett danged busted up sounds about right. What hurts when you try to laugh, Cooper?'' Jemmy asked, instinctively back in doctor-mode again.

''Everything!'' Coop growled.

'' Well, that's helpful.'' Jemmy shook his head, grinning. '' Alright, mister, time for a wakeful examination. For starters, Cousin, you look like holy hell. But that's a decided improvement from a few nights ago. Second, look at me, Cooper. Now, you tell me how clearly or how hazily you're seeing me. Chris Hale seemed to be especially worried about these big blue peepers of yours. So I want to find out just how well they're working.''

''Got way too close to some dynamite a while back.'' Coop admitted. ''You don't look so great yourself, Jemmy. But I can see you fine. I can see that real old scar on your forehead, from when you fell out of the plum tree behind Grampa's house.''

'' And scared momma and Cousin Beth, and Cousin Jenny half to death? That's funny,
I thought certain sure it was a peach tree.'' Jemmy laughed, greatly relieved again, for
his old friend and cousin, Cooper Smith and for his new friend Chris Hale, as well. ''Next up
come your ears… Cousin…'' Jemmy went on with his thorough going examination of Coop's faculties for a good quarter of an hour, and was well pleased with his clarity of vision and hearing, ability to track light and movement across the room, and speak clearly. They were still damnably lucky, this time. But Coop's energy was flagging. And not surprisingly, Jemmy knew the scout hadn't talked this much in nearly a week's time, or literally given his brain this much work to do.

''Cooper, I'm getting bushed, here. We'll pick up the rest of this later, okay?'' the doctor asked.

'' Sure, okay, Jem. Just… you'd tell me, first thing out of the gate, if you found something you were checkin' on just then, that showed up …out of kilter, right, Cousin?''

''My word on that, Cousin.'' Jemmy nodded, and smiled, reminded of old times. ''Will that do?''

'' That's all I ever need to hear from you, Jemmy.'' Coop smiled tiredly back. '' Glad to see you, again, Cousin, if not for bein' all bunged up this way.''

'' Glad to be seen, Cousin. And its not like I never saw you 'bunged up' before. You took no small number of spills yourself, years back. Lucky thing is, Coop, you've apparently got a brain-case made of solid granite!''

'' Well, sure it is! '' Coop laughed and groaned again, as his ribs and the muscles around them protested. '' Sure it is, Jemmy. That's where Jess an' me lucked out over you. Coopers, like both our mommas and so, us too, have got the hardest heads in Texas, and likely the whole danged country b'sides!''

''Take it easy, Coop. Hold on, I've got some thing to help you with that aching around your ribcage…'' Jemmy said, laughing too and reaching to mix some medicinal powders.

'' I don't much care for sleepin' powders.'' Coop complained. '' 'sides I figured we could do some catchin' up, seein' as how I haven't seen you in three, no, closer to four years!''
Suddenly Coop's eyes flew wide open, and he tried his best to sit up, as he gaped at his cousin's empty left sleeve. ''Jemmy, what in the blue blazes has happened to you?'' the
Texan tried to shout; but his ribs weren't having any, so he knew it sounded more like a
bull frog's croaking.

''Whoa, hold on there. Coop, you're about to tumble off the danged bed! So calm down, will you?'' ' Jemmy insisted, one strong hand on Coop's right shoulder.

''Calm down, sure! I'll calm down, soon as you tell me where, when and how you lost a wing, Cousin! And next in line you tell me why you never said one word about it, in your letters! '' The Texan's temper was up, now. And Jemmy knew Coop wasn't about to listen to pretexts, or be put off. [ The boy never did learn to give an inch of ground!]

Sighing, wincing and hating the story he was about to tell, Jemmy looked away and back to his Cousin again.
'' Three years ago, is the when of it. Figure I got way too close to an Army Colt that only then proceeded to chain-fire. That's really about all there was to it. Some dang fool kid had
a revolver he didn't have any idea at all how to use. Well, I … the President was standing right there. And of course, I couldn't get the Man to budge so much as a quarter of an inch! Not Ulysses Simpson Grant!
And that kid… Coop, you know what makes me angrier than anything that ever happened to me? It's simple, like so many other times when some bloody coward or other decides they want to kill the Man; they send somebody else to do their murder for them! And that time they sent a nineteen year old boy, if you can credit that! And he was … not only didn't he know the first thing about any sort of guns, he was completely out of his head!'' Jemmy sighed again, and turned to directly face the Texan.

''This really isn't a story I care much to recall. But you asked, so here goes: This boy, somebody gave him a Colt Army revolver! And they sent this boy to kill the President… figurin' a boy might seem harmless, might come close enough…Well, the rest of that nightmare I don't have a clear recollection of. And I don't want one.
But my partners later told me there must have been some damage done to his gun, or something happened that started a chain-fire, that made it explode. B'cause that's exactly what happened while I was tryin' to do five or six things at onct: keep the revolver pointed away from the President, while I was tryin' to get it away from the boy, who was like I said, just out of his mind… and terrified, too, get the boy away from the President, get at least
his fingers away from the trigger… get the President to go back inside his suite… we were all
in a hallway… and keep that boy, or myself from shooting any of the civilians who were beginning to crowd up … hearing the boy's shouts, and mine, I suppose…

I remember tryin' to get the boy further down the hall, or to the floor, out of range of the President… And I think I had my right arm all the way around him, he was rail thin… while
he fought me like a wildcat the whole time… I remember him screaming… and I was reaching with my left…still fighting to turn the muzzle away… towards a window, maybe…
My friends, and my doctors, some of whom are the same told me later… I was lucky to only lose an arm and they were right. The dang thing just got shattered, when the blasted gun exploded. So they had to come in and take it off to keep me from dyin' of sepsis. Thought for a while I'd lose my hearing too. So much for my brilliant career as a surgeon, right? ''

'' Cousin, you were never any kind of surgeon, unless absolutely, absolutely necessary.''
Coop offered. ''And you're still a damn fine doctor, anyways. But the boy… Was he killed, Jemmy?''

'' I … was told, later, he died before anyone could so much as try to help him. Cam was
his name. Cameron Lewis Breckinridge. And I … it was months before I really knew what happened. Well, that's the story, Cousin. Are you gonna scold me now, for losing a 'wing'
to save ' ol' Sam Grant's' life? Because if you are…'' Jemmy challenged the Texan wearily.

''I'm not.'' Coop said, grasping Jemmy's arm and holding on tightly a moment. '' How can I when you've clearly been pretty busy lately patchin' me back together, again? Jem, that's.. .that's an awful story, surely. But I didn't hear anything in it you need feel ashamed about. Didn't you tell me, five or six years back,, that nothin' in your whole, entire life makes you prouder than the work you do for Grant? Didn't you?''

''Of answering his call to service, surely, nothing, except the friendship and trust he's also given me in such great measure. Cooper he's the best man I've ever known, likely the best
I ever will know! And of course I'd lay down in front of a cannon barrage for him, willingly,
to save his life. But…'' Jemmy shook his head, his eyes brightening with unshed tears, and still anguished by that day, knowing full well he always would be.
'' the boy died, Cooper! A nineteen year old, sad, sick and terrified boy died that day! And why? Only, only because I couldn't keep hold of him? Only because I didn't react soon enough, quick enough, or strongly enough when I saw him, barely able to but still lifting that revolver? He was out of his mind and part of that with fear and I did nothing, said nothing that might help him? So, how in the very devil am I supposed to reconcile myself to that? I'm a doctor, Coop! I'm a doctor! '' Jemmy demanded.

Abruptly now, as Jemmy's own exhaustion overtook him, a kind of role-reversal happened.
Coop pulled the Carolinian into a much needed hug and held on fiercely, while Jemmy shook and wept awhile. And only when the younger cousin could take a deep breath again, did Coop release his strong embrace. And only when Jemmy was looking at him again, the Texan said:

''You're a damn fine doctor, Jem. Just like I said a moment ago. And a lot more, b'sides. So, you'll get no hickory sticks from me, Cousin. Now, if you'd got yourself winged that badly whilst savin' ol' Billy Sherman's scrawny hide, I dunno, Jemmy. Likely that would be a horse of a different color! '' Coop said, but managed a soft laugh to go with it.

''And if I'd been at Ford's in April, '65, Coop, and warned away, or somehow, purely by some miracle saved Mr. Lincoln? Would you disown me, then? B'cause I'm prett sure Jess might.'' the doctor wondered.

'' Well, no, I wouldn't and I don't think you're right about Jess on that count, either, Cousin. '' Coop shook his head and said nothing when that made him some dizzy. '' Most fellas we know are just altogether too glad to have th' shootin' war over, to feel that way now, if they ever did. And most fellas would take it just as hard as you, to see a young boy die like that, for nothin'!''

'' That's it, Coop. That's exactly what still enrages me about that day.'' Jemmy nodded.
'' Because like all or most of us, I thought and prayed and hoped, through four long years
of War, that most of all, there would never be any more boys lost that way!''
'' Not till, which G-d forbid, there's another war, Jemmy?'' Coop quietly asked his cousin,
his eyes shining with the same sorrow.

''I talk too much.'' Jemmy sighed. '' I just then brought up Jeff to you, didn't I, Cousin?''

'' Talkin' of th' war, or th' candies Grampa Nate gave us, or all th' wisteria and sweet gum down around Nacogdoches, or Gramma Merey's roses and lilacs all brings up Jeff to me, Cousin. You don't get all the load by any means, not on that count. But it's true, Jemmy, it is, I won't lie to you, you do talk too much.'' Coop told him, with a half grin stretching his map-of-Ireland features.

''Which isn't necessarily a sign of wisdom, in some of my current lines of endeavor.'' the doctor admitted, and then looked up sharply, when Coop fell silent. ''Coop? Cooper?''

'' 'm alright, Jemmy. I … I just recollected somethin'; somethin' one of those … crazed
fellows, the youngest of them, I think, told me.

And speakin' of boys, this one can't be more n' a year, two years older than Barney! He said: 'we were runnin' behind on our grand ol' endeavors… But now ye put us way ahead of schedule! Ain't that awfully sweet an' obligin' of him, fellas?' And I reckon that somehow stuck in this battered ol' brainpan up here… And, I've got no clue whatever what he was talkin' about, Cousin; but it looks a lot to me like you do.''

'' You're right. I know that the maniacs who came so close to doing for you, six days ago
have been roaming the countryside out here for over a year now, on a killing spree. And
to date, they've murdered twenty people, that is, twenty people we're sure about!''

'' And one was little Lissa Burke, and another one was s'posed to be Jess. Did you say six nights ago?''

''Yep. And by the way, I'm not sure anymore you get to throw stones about being crazed, Cooper. They didn't want to murder you, you know.''
''Well now, that did occur to me, Cousin, almost right away, when one and then another,
and then another of them called me 'Harper'. '' Coop answered laconically, leaning back
again. '' Figured I'd best find out what th' boy had done to get those folks riled up that
way, is all. Bein' as they're crazed, though, mebbee I shouldn't have been lookin' for an explanation.''

'' The connection, and this is what I rode up from Kearney to tell you, Cooper, the only connection we've found among the folks murdered, is some close tie or other to boys who rode with Jess' old regiment, who rode with the 8th Texas. Melissa Burke was engaged to marry a boy named Aaron Caldwell, from that regiment. And that was all these bastards needed, I suppose.'' Jemmy sighed again and rubbed his eyes. ''What else did you want
to ask me about all this?''

''Just one more, 'cause this time you really are getting tuckered out, Jemmy. Teo, Teo Bracamante, who by the way, I owe a tremendous debt, for getting' Gambler away that
night, if nothin' else. If he doesn't know it, he surely acted like he knows how much a
good horse means to Texans. Well, he stopped those fellows for a couple minutes. He challenged the icy bastard that ran 'em… And I can't exactly recollect … but it sounded like Teo didn't think that cold- eyed crazy man was following their orders. And m' not sure
what he meant by it. And I can't recall much else. Can you make heads or tails of that?''

'' I dunno, Coop. I don't. But you've surely given me something new to add to this insane equation. And I needed that, we needed that, or we'll never break this case! But we will, Cousin. We will, 'cause now they've gone and gotten personal on me! Now they've got
my Irish up, damn them! But please, don't push yourself to recollect too much, or too
hard, Cooper. Right now that will only get you headaches, or dizzy spells, like the one you
had a few minutes ago.'' Jemmy said, and winked at his older Texas cousin.
'' Doctors!'' Coop frowned, exhaling sharply.

''Cousins!'' Jemmy huffed right back, and held out the cup he'd mixed the sleeping powder in. ''Now drink this down, mister. No more arguments. And don't even bother pulling that long face on me. I learned to be impervious to that kind of nonsense from experts, up to and including Cousin Beth!''
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CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Hale wagon train was leaving Plum Creek, a week and a half after making another unforeseen stop. There had been three of these delays now. The season wasn't getting
any longer, the trail wouldn't be as forgiving later, as they crossed the plains and started
into the mountains. So the wagons were leaving early one morning as spring reached
its midpoint. But they were leaving without their chief scout and their Wagonmaster. The passengers were glad to get moving again, if a little worried about these changes.

But they seemed mollified when Chris told them in an open meeting that all the upheaval
and rearrangements were on a temporary basis, he just couldn't say for how long.
The crew, minus both Coop and Chris were heartened for their work, knowing Coop was no longer laying impossibly still and silent in the hospice, but awake and showing a strong recovery was beginning. Bill would take over as Wagonmaster, Duke as chief scout, both of which jobs they'd held off and on as the need arose, for more than five years now. Charlie would keep his cook's duties, as he wouldn't stand for anyone 'messin' with my cook wagon'. But as he'd done years back when Bill was laid up, Charlie would take on the work of the train's ramrod. And the trio had agreed with Chris' notion that they should 'spell' each other
to whatever extent was possible.

Barney although strictly charged with keeping up his schoolwork, would be what Chris called 'a general factotum' for the train; driving, running messages, and picking up whatever chores and duties the others needed to drop for a time, from riding the line to taking his turn on watch. And both were vital duties, knowing as they all did now, that murderers had come within striking distance, killing Lissa Burke and beating Cooper Smith, as Bill angrily put it, 'within an inch' . With that in mind, three members of Kate's crew offered to share watch
and other tasks with the wagon train's crew. Pragmatic as always, Bill accepted the offer, knowing the men were solid, trustworthy and hard working or Kate Crawley wouldn't have them working for her.

Even more than he had with the older men, Chris took time to talk about the next few
weeks and months with Barney. Hale knew just how scared the youngster had been when Coop was found. And Barney'd said nothing, done nothing out of that fear, but only kept
up with his schoolwork and his duties. The youngster needed and deserved to know how
proud his surrogate father was of him, right now.

'' These are a grown man's responsibilities I'm laying on your shoulders, Barney. And our friend Coop is a large part of the reason I'm letting you try your 'wings' this way. And not,
I don't' think, for the reasons you're guessing, either. Would you like to know what my reasons are?''

''Sure, Mister Chris. Surely.'' the boy nodded.

''Well, it seems that Coop has been paying more attention to you than I have myself, in
the past year or so, Barney. And he's given me a fairly good sized piece of his mind, on
more than one occasion about it.
Coop has been trying to get through to me that you're no longer the scared, lonely little boy who first came to this train. He's been unrelenting with me, saying I need to see that you are in fact growing into a courageous, bright and resourceful man, pretty much while I wasn't looking. I'd add that Coop without saying this in so many words, he clearly sees you as a younger brother, one he's perfectly willing to go to bat for as often as it takes, wherever, whenever and with whomever Coop sees fit.''

''Mister Chris, can I … umm… may I ask you something?'' Barney requested.

'' Of course. ''

''Well, umm… Mister Chris you and Coop, you haven't been having any kinda arguments about me, have you?''

''No, no, Barney. We haven't. '' Chris smiled. '' In fact that rock stubborn black-Irish Texan friend of ours has me just about convinced he's right about you. And that being the case,
I'd like to , apologize if I've been treating you as a child. But mostly, Barney I wanted
to tell you that Coop has a very high opinion of what you can handle. But more important
in my estimation is that Coop has a tremendous faith in you. Do you think you can live up
to that?''

Barney blinked hard and then nodded, grinning brightly up at Chris. ''Yes, Sir! I can, Mister Chris. And I will!''

'' I thought so.'' Chris grinned back.

'' Mister Chris, I … I wanted to ask you, or Jemmy… or somebody … something.''

''Go ahead.''

'' Well, umm… everybody was so worried, those first few days, about Coop, I mean. Everybody. And Jemmy even said he couldn't' tell us if Coop would .. be alright. And
that was only three or four days ago. And now, Coop's awake and everything. And everybody's all relieved and cheerful. And we should be. And I ..don't want to worry
… worry him. But I've been wondering, guess it's just left over from being worried,
b'fore. Anyhow I've only been wondering, Mister Chris, if …'' Barney stopped short
of what he was struggling to say. But Chris was sure he could read it in the boy's wide
grey eyes.

''Barney, if you want to ask me whether or not Coop's going to have a hard time with his recovery, with getting better, I'd be less than honest with you if I said no. He's going to
have a rough time of it. And it may be he'll have some days or nights almost as bad as
those first few were. Coop took in an enormous amount of punishment.
And he seems to be bouncing back from it, now. But I can't, and I won't lie to you, lad, anymore than Coop would, if he were in my shoes, right now. So, the truth is, we could
still lose him. And that's another of my reasons for staying behind, to help Jemmy and the others here watch out for any signs of Coop being in trouble. I thought I owed him that
much. That's probably not what you wanted to hear, Barney, and that's not the answer I wanted to give you.''

'' Nope. Mister Chris, no, sir, Coop says friends should always be as honest as they possibly can, with each other. And I agree with him. ''

'' And so do I, Barney, so do I. ''
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Coop, now awake a good portion of the time, had five very relieved and happy visitors, off
and on, as the train got ready to resume its journey. And he had one or two fairly vociferous, if brief 'shouting matches' with Chris, when the Wagonmaster made his decision known to
the Texan. But the arrangements were done, the wagons were packed and ready. And Chris was adamant. And he finally made Coop see the sense of it, by pointing out how exhausted Jemmy Singer, the only doctor in something like one hundred miles, was becoming as word spread of his presence at the little hospice.

'' Turnin' the tables on me, are you, Chris?'' the Texan asked, frowning darkly.

'' Using your own strongest traits of character to convince you of what needs doing, is that what you call turning the tables?''

''Who in blue blazes said I have any traits of character? I'm just a trail-scout, you know. That's' all. '' Coop muttered.

''This, from the man who says he 'doesn't cheat at cards, chase skirts, flirt with other fellow's ladies, or get drunk? You're practically a pillar of virtue, my friend, and that was your own self-description. I also happen to know that you would turn the world upside down for your friends and kin, if need be. Well, until I hear otherwise from Jemmy, you're going to sit there and let us do the same for you, Coop.''

''Which roughly translates as you're not going anywhere, till I do?'' the scout scowled.

''Light dawns!'' Jemmy responded, laughing from his now accustomed post on the window seat. ''By the way, if my ears don't deceive me, you might want to give up this futile resistance, Cousin, and take a minute for soon to be departing friends, pounding up
the stairs, with Barney in the lead. ''

''What choice do I have?'' Coop muttered.

''None.'' Chris chuckled. ''Here they come.''

'' Hey, Coop, you're sittin' up and everything!'' Barney exclaimed, rushing in, smiling as wide as the Platte.

'' Yeah, Barney, so, what's this I hear, you're takin' over as chief scout and ramrod?'' Coop managed to chuckle, knowing when he was well and truly outnumbered.

'' Naw, that's Charlie. 'sides, it ain't… it's not for long. You're lookin' great, Coop, honest.''

'' Well, try and convince these two sour-pusses of that, would you, Barney?''

'' Well, I …'' Barney hesitated, then shook his head. '' I don't think I could honestly, Coop.''

''No, never mind. There's no movin' these two, not by so much as an inch. Believe me, if there was I 'd be headin' out with you. But remember, you said you're gonna start a journal, so I'll at least be able to read about what I'm gonna be missin' out on.'' Coop reminded the teen, but with a frown at Jemmy. ''

''You bet, Coop. I've got it set up with a map … I kinda drew. It's gonna be a real fine thing
to have. Oh, wait! I 'most forgot! Coop, I brought your journal up with me.'' Barney said,
and pulled the worn, gleaming leather notebook from his coat pocket. ''Seems as though 'm always handin' this back to you.''

'' And I'm always gonna say thank you, thanks much, Barney. Th' older I get, the less I'd
care to lose this! It was a present from my father, years ago. ''

'' Wow. Figure that would have to make it special to you, real special.'' the orphaned boy nodded.

''It does, Barney, it surely does. Listen, Barney, there's something else I wanted to ask you before you head on out with the train in the morning.'' Coop dropped his voice and leaned towards the youngster. '' And I think Chris would truly appreciate it, too, if you were to keep
a good, sharp eye on Charlie. If you'd see he rests and eats and such, with this ramroddin' he's gonna be doing, he might tend to forget, sometimes. ''

'' Like Bill does, more than he remembers to? Yeah, I can do that, Coop, I will, surely.'' Barney fairly beamed to be given this charge. ''But…'' and here the youngster lowered his voice too. '' You'll be doing Bill and Duke, Charlie and me a huge favor at the same time if …''

'' If I keep a good watch on Chris, for all y'all? You've got yourself a deal, old fellow.''
Coop joked, and winked, pushing aside his increasing aches and pains and a bothersome degree of lassitude taking hold, again. Grasping Barney's hand to seal their bargain, Coop
smiled to himself, and shook his head. [He's not Jeff, Coop; he's not. But he's a great
ki… a fine young man, now. And with the lot of us keeping a watch for Barney, he'll
never be tripped up the way Jeffy was! ]

''Now, you behave y, you young firebrand, you young magnet for trouble!'' Barney joked in turn. '' I've got a lot on my mind, these days, and can't be bothered always keepin' an eye
out for you, y'know!''

"'Yes, sir, oh, sorry, sir, Mister Barnaby, sir! ''

''Well, okay. Well, 'm sorry, Coop, I've got to go, now. I've … I'm goin' to drive some for Charlie and .. I've got to shift my gear, over to th' cook wagon.''

'' Well, sure, Barney. Don't let those wild cayuses Charlie's got this year make you any trouble. Just show 'em you're the boss.''

'' Sure, Coop. Ummm… see you. Thanks for th' idea about th' journal. Thanks. See you, Coop.'' Barney nodded, reached for and once more shook Coop's hand, and was gone
as quickly as he'd arrived.

Coop blinked hard and did the best he could to shift his right shoulder, frowning as he
couldn't quite shake the pain he'd been having there, and frowning again at his friends as
all five took a step closer to help him. '' I'm not paralyzed, y' know!'' the scout protested.

''No, you're not, Coop. But your temper surely is a lot healthier than the rest of you, these days.'' Bill answered him bluntly. ''And Barnaby isn't the only one here who doesn't cotton
to it much; not when nobody's trying to do anything but give you a hand here!''

Coop exhaled and bit back the first retort that came to him, and then the next and then another. Giving up an argument with the ramrod turned Wagonmaster because of Chris' decision, as a bad job all around; Coop turned his attention to Duke and Charlie.
''Well, c'mon, don't you two stay out of this. I'm sure you've both of you have something similar to tell me, about my temper or my health or something real important like that,
before y'all get going, that is!'' he challenged them.

''Charlie, d'you want to take that lamebrain there on first, or let me go at this dang fool, sitting up, kickin' and complainin', when ten days ago he was pretty much as good as dead; and a week ago he still could hardly move?'' Duke asked the cook turned ramrod, feeling as
if his question said all that was needed.

''Nope, you done fine, Duke. What I wanted to say is for Mister Chris, anyhow. Mister Chris,
I still think mebbee you should go on with the train and let old Charlie ramrod this here insulterable young scalawag. Lord knows, I know what's to be done with his kinda nonesuch, and his kinda palaver, when he takes it in his hard head to be abstinate this here way. That's all I wanted to say, anyhow.'' Charlie finished by folding his arms across his chest and giving Coop back glare for glare and frown for frown.

''Thanks, Charlie, but no thanks. I believe I have a trick or two in that regard still up my sleeve.''' Chris answered, with weary smile.

''Give it up, Cousin.'' Jemmy quietly advised the Texan. '' You're here for the duration and so is Chris. And frankly, I'm glad to have him, here. ''

''Oh, gosh, thanks, Cousin!'' Coop answered, still feeling peevish, out of sorts, flushed,
and much less hale and hearty than he had just two days before. And all things considered, including how much he hated 'coddling, the Texan was doing all he could to keep that to himself.

''Don't mention it.'' Jemmy chuckled, watching his cousin and shaking his head. Coop was only proving all of them right, this very minute, shifting around, grimacing and leaving his supper to get cold on the table beside him. The Carolinian's practiced eye told him Coop was not just feeling his bruised muscles and wounded ego. He was no longer leaning back on his right shoulder, not when he could help it. And he was alternately huddling under a couple blankets, or tossing them aside.
[ right upper quadrant discomfort, if not outright pain,] Jemmy busily observed. [ loss of appetite and now chills and fever, again. Damn all, Coop this isn't school, this isn't the kind of games we used to play when we either didn't want to or wanted very much to go somewhere! Just like I told Chris a couple days ago, Cooper. You're showing signs of liver damage; an abscess likely or worse, an infection and all of those are real trouble, Cousin.]

'' I won't!'' Coop answered, but in a weary, beaten voice. ''Alright, Alright! Where'd y'all put the armistice papers? I'll swallow Th' Dog, I'll sign the danged things, now!''

''Why, thank you, General Lee! Or is it General Johnston I have the great honor of addressing, Sir?'' Jemmy quipped.

'' Joe Johnston, if y' please. He held out a good two, two and a half weeks longer!''

''ummm… Coop?'' Duke asked, studying the Texan and nodding to Chris, who was doing the same thing, and frowning.

''Yeah, what is it, now, General Sherman, Suh?'' Coop sarcastically asked with an exaggerated drawl.

'' You said, you'll 'swallow the Dog'? What's that?''

''Don't none of all y'all smart as whips Yankees know that one, do you?'' Coop asked, finding it almost funny. Or it would be funny, if his back and shoulder, chest and head weren't aching and burning right now.

''Well, truth to tell, Cousin, I do. '' Jemmy answered. '' Duke, its what the boys coming home to Texas, Louisiana and mostly the lower Southern states started calling it; when they came to take the Loyalty Oath, when the War was ending, and for awhile after. They found it prett hard to do, you see.''

''I'd have to guess it was.'' Duke nodded. ''Thanks, Jemmy.''

[ Yeah, you'd have to guess it was hard! ] Coop thought irritably, not feeling energetic enough to start another round with his friends. [ You'd have to guess, Duke, cause nobody ever made you do anything like that, ever ! And nobodys likely to make you do it now, either!

Well, you got what you wanted; I've surrendered now, right? I'm stuck here till my Cousin th' Doctor says different, aren't I? Why in th' devil are you still standin' there watchin' me like… I dunno like what, and I'm too tired to figure it right now. Quit your shakin', boy! Or they'll certain sure glom onta you bein feverish again! Damn, Barney left thinkin' most likely I'm angry with him or somethin'! I'm not, Barney, I'm just sore all over, and plumb worn out. Got no stayin' power at all these days! Where'd Barney get off to? Need t' tell him I'm not sore… Need to tell]''Barney.'' Coop said aloud, shivering again. '' Where's Barney?''

"' He's just down with the wagons, Coop.'' Chris told the younger man, seeing with no little alarm how fast his fever was rising now and how badly it disoriented him. ''What did you want?''
'' 'm not angry with him. But he … left, but 'm not angry with him, Chris. He's a good kid, Chris… 'm not angry with him…''

'' Well, I'll make sure he gets to know that, Coop, if he doesn't know it already.'' Chris answered, suddenly wondering if Coop was really talking about Barnaby West, or about Jefferson Smith, now.

''Yeah, yeah, tell him… tell him… I've got no call, no reason to be … and 'm not. But he left… an' I … I meant to tell him.. He might mebbee think I was angry…'' Coop shook his head,
and that didn't' help matters at all. All of a sudden, between the imbalance in his aching
head and the one between his aching right shoulder and his left arm and shoulder still in a splint, he was toppling over, towards the floorboards.

''Whoa, easy there!'' Duke said, easily breaking the older scout's sideways momentum, half expecting Coop to lose his temper again at being helped to sit back against his pile of pillows.
'' No more takin' headers, okay, pal?''

Coop canted his head and peered at the tall, younger man, who was getting oddly fuzzy, around his edges. '' 'M not angry, listen… you go on and … find Th' boy, now. 'm alright.
Just tired out. Go on, now, all y'all … m' just …Duke, where'd you come from?''

'' Well, Indiana, to start with.'' the blond answered as part of an old joke between them.

'' Oh… hmm… yeah, y' told me that. m' from Texas, not everybody can say that … an' m'
from Nacogdoches, not very many folks can say … that, too. But they still let me sign up
in … over in Marion County, so I did. 'm a… 'm a yup, First Texas… that's it, 'm a Invincible, now… feel awful.'' Coop muttered, and with the pain in his right shoulder and right side flaring, he groaned and took the opportunity to pass out altogether.
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CHAPTER TWELVE Plum Creek, Nebraska the 1870s

Cooper Smith, was anything but still now. He was anything but quiet. And as he thrashed and cried out hoarsely, it became terribly clear Coop was anything but aware. He showed no sign of comprehending his surroundings, not the sickroom, or the hospice that surrounded it, of recognizing the people keeping watch over him, or those who'd gone. If he sensed them at all it was only as figments, as illusions. His literally fevered brain was carrying the Texan back and forth from one confounding, often distorted or flawed memory to another. These were far more real to the scout than the world around him, now. And they were far more wearying, as each such 'journey' robbed Coop of yet more strength.

''boys… how.. how many… boys… cordwood… ever' where!'' Coop muttered. And in this
fever dream, saw just what he spoke of: scores and dozens, hundreds and thousands of
dead boys in butternut grey uniforms, sprawled, piled or even more surreally, stacked on pallets, all around him. And they were all just what he'd called them, boys, not one by face
or form or frame looking to be older than twenty! And in an even more horrifying turn, the fever-dream showed him, Coop knew each and every one on sight!
Boys from east Texas, and all over his home state, who'd gone with Coop to join the justly famous 'Texas Brigade' were the first he saw in this dream, laying as if they'd only died the instant before. And in some hazily logical manner seeing them first made sense, if anything here could. These boys were the first Coop saw fall and die in the eastern and western theatres both.
After them came boys from other regiments and commands in the Army of Northern Virginia of which John Bell Hood's Texas Brigade was a justly proud and greatly honored part. Georgians, Virginians, Mississippians, Carolinians, from South and the 'old North State',
wild-hearted boys from Florida, from Alabama and all over Mississippi were there as well.
By their hundreds of thousands they came to 'the Conflict', fought and fell and died there.

And then to the western battlegrounds and sieges, Knoxville, Chattanooga, Chickamauga, Franklin, turning back to fight in the defense of Atlanta… boys came pouring in to each fire-fight. Boys from all parts of the South, and some from the 'neutrals', Kentucky especially
and Missouri came to fight beside Coop and 'his Texans', his 'old Ragged First'. And when camp-diseases, privations, and strange, colder climates didn't kill them, battle wounds, amputations, hospital stays, capture and imprisonment often did. From a hundred different causes, still they died by their thousands, and tens of thousands all around him.

''But they're too young!'' Coop shouted, not knowing if he was protesting to the Army, to the War or to the Universe at Large. '' You're all too young! You're too young to be layin' here still and silent, you're too young to be… gone!'' he insisted, to no avail, getting no answer. It didn't matter, it didn't matter one whit how he called out, cursed or how he finally, began to weep. The boys he knew just went on marching, went on fighting and went on falling all around him.

The pure, yet insanely choreographed chaos of any and every battle surrounded Coop
and these silent comrades, these brothers in arms. Empty cornfields, churchyards, old cities and small towns, tangled woodlands, rivers, swamps and streams all ran red. Sunken roads became cemeteries, hills and cliffsides alike became nightmarishly impenetrable fortresses, springing up and vanishing around him. The roaring barrages of artillery, the shrieking sound of their shells, the clatter and crash of rifled musketry… came back to him like ghosts, appalling and strangely muted.

Men of tremendous honor and valor appeared in lightning flashes and were gone in the next instant. ''General Lee to the rear!'' Coop heard his First Texans cry out, as they had at the Wilderness, and he cried out with them. ''General Lee to the rear!'', as the 'silver fox' sought to lead their next charge. Longstreet, Jackson, Stuart… he'd seen them all, only at a distance and for less than a moment, yet here they were, alive, whole, unwaveringly courageous and inspiring. They don't know yet! the fever-dream told Coop. That's why you're seeing them as they were! They don't know yet the thing can't be won! They don't know yet, a third to a half of these boys might have been spared, might have gone home again, if only someone stopped the fighting sooner!

No! No, damn you! Coop's younger mind, as he now seemed neatly divided between his older and younger selves shouted. You can't stop them! You can't! They're all valiant! They're all the pride of their homes, their nation! They're, all of them, heroes! They're all fine, brave, true-hearted Southron boys…They're…

No! No! No! Damn you, cold-eyes! Coop, caught up in the midst of one nightmare found
it suddenly swerving into another, much more recent horror. They're all dead! They died, almost before they knew what it means to be alive! I'm only wishing they hadn't!

Traitor! Turncoat! Liar! Hypocrite! You marched right off with them, didn't you? You took
the oath and signed your name of your own stubborn seventeen year old will, didn't you? You were going to 'show those Yankees', just like all the other boys who marched alongside you. Weren't you? So what are you kickin' about now? And by what right are you standing here telling these fine, brave true-hearts they shouldn't have laid down their lives? Why, yeah, c'mon, tell me why, Turncoat? Maybe because you didn't?
So, now…what, you're trying to put these incredibly strong, strong-willed and heroic boys
in the wrong? You're trying to undo all their daring deeds, deny all their victories and steal
all their hard won Glory? Why, Turncoat, are you jealous of them? Is that it? Yes, damn you! You don't mourn their heroic deaths! No! You envy them their undying Valor, their enduring Honor, and their everlasting Legend!

The darkly cold killer's eyes caught and held Coop's gaze and wouldn't let him look away,
now. And all the bitterness from the dregs of every battle suddenly threatened to swallow
or to drown the Texan's fevered mind and grieving spirit. And the fever-nightmare seemed
so much stronger than the man in its midst right now, holding him like a fly in a spider's
web, like a man bound hand and foot, laying face down in a stream just deep enough to drown him!
I envy them? I'm jealous? I want them to be wrong? No! No, that's crazed! They were my brothers! I loved every single one! We were closer than friends or cousins or brothers ever could be, marching, riding, fighting, and camping nearly in each other's pockets! I'm jealous?
I envy them? Might as well say I hate them!

Don't you? cold-eyes, or at least the shape and voice of that murderer asked, reminding
Coop even in his feverish state of some kind of devil's advocate figure. Aren't they just another part of why you left east Texas and never really looked back again? Aren't they just another reminder of what can never be again? And, truly, Turncoat, aren't they just another maddening deviation from the Traitor's blood that runs in your veins and ran in your born-brother's too!

DON'T DAST SAY THAT ABOUT MY BROTHER! Coop screamed at the madman, struggling
with bonds he saw as the ropes that held him nearly helpless in that streambed. Jeff was all
of sixteen years old! And he was as brave as a mountain lion, as brave as mountain full of 'em! He was too young to be in the shootin' war, surely. But so were most of them, so
were most of us! But there was nothing lacking in his heart or spirit, ever! Thomas Jefferson Smith was as constant as the day is long, you bloody bastard!

Right up until the moment he let himself be duped by a red-haired Yankee temptress,
right? Then all bets were off for young Jefferson Smith, weren't they? And you said
yourself, Turncoat, 'Jeff went and got himself shot', didn't you? Your brother got himself
well and truly conned by a lying, merciless Yankee female, and he got lined up and shot for
his trouble, when all he likely did was fall for just another Northern tramp and damn Yankee spy, to boot!

But we started out talking about all these boys and about you, Turncoat. So, what about
you, Turncoat? What is it now, two, almost three years ago, you found her. You found your brother's ruthless murderer? Right? So, where is she now, Turncoat? Did you plant her six f
eet under, the way she planted your brother? Did you push her up against a wall and shoot her, the way she did for Jefferson? Did you cut her lying heart out and feed it to some filthy Yankee dogs in a gutter, somewhere? Did you even manage to beat her the way she clearly needed to be beaten? Well, maybe not, whores usually like a good beating, now and then, don't they? So, tell me, Turncoat, just what did you do, when you found our sad young fool, our Jefferson's, betrayer?

I… I … tricked her. I … chased her, and her … daughter, both. I played her, played 'em both the same way she played Jeff! Coop, answered, finding the words sounded contemptible,
even in a fever dream.

You didn't kill her? What the devil kind of man are you, anyway? She sent your brother, knowingly sent your young brother to his ruination, and to his death by a firing squad!
You at least wanted to choke the life out of her, to beat the tar out of her, to make her
pay, and then put paid to her worthless, lying, betraying life, didn't' you?

DAMN YOUR EYES, OF COURSE, I WANTED TO! WHAT SHE DID KILLED JEFF AND … KILLED OUR MOMMA, TOO, WHEN SHE KNEW OF IT, ONLY SLOWER! AH G-D, AH G-D, JEFFY, 'M SORRY! 'M SO DAMNABLY SORRY! I COULDN'T KEEP YOU OUT OF THE WAR, OUT OF THAT PRISON DUTY, OR OUT OF HER DAMN SNARES, EITHER! AH G-D, MOMMA, JEFFY, DADDY.. PLEASE, PLEASE, FORGIVE ME! I SHOULD'VE… TORN HER LIMB FROM LIMB… AND ALL I DID WAS TO TRICK HER! ALL I DID WAS PLAY HER… WHEN SHE'D SENT JEFF TO DIE BY WHAT SHE DID TO HIM!
JEFF, FORGIVE ME, BROTHER, LITTLE BROTHER, PLEASE… JEFFY… JEFFY… 'M SO AWFULLY SORRY, JEFF… JEFF.. JEFF WHERE ARE YOU? NO, NO, DON'T! JEFF, DON'T GO THERE! DON'T GO NEAR HER! JEFF, LISTEN TO ME! JEFFY! JEFFERSON! DON'T! ''Jeff, please, don't… don't go near… Jeff… don't… Jeff… .m' so…Jeff! No! She's gulling you, Jeff! She's a damn Yankee spy and you know that! Jeff, please! '' Coop was screaming only in his fever-nightmare. On his sickbed he was just barely able to whisper by this time.

But the fever had him doing just that, to the point of perseverating, repeating his sorrowing, sobbing, and remorseful pleas incessantly. Chris Hale looked up from his vigil with the tormented man and, seeing Jemmy Singer watching, shook his head. '' There's been no change, at all… Not in two, nearly three hours. Except he's not gaining, the fever is. What are you thinking of trying next? Another tepid bath?'' the Wagonmaster asked.

''No. Not this time. His fever's not only not subsiding, it's spiking harder and faster than the first time around. We have to knock this fever down and out and on the double-quick. For two reasons, if it goes any higher we're looking at a damn good chance Cooper will have febrile convulsions, is one. And two, I can't even try to drain the abscess I palpated this morning on the right lobe, while he's thrashing around in delirium this way. But it's that abscess that's causing him to be feverish! So, it begins to have a prett damn circular logic!'' Jemmy frowned.

'' So, now what, Jemmy. What do we try next?'' Hale demanded to know.

''Next we freeze this fever right out of Cooper. I have some of the orderlies on their way to the icehouse… the one the saloon uses. We're just going to pack the boy in blocks of ice, and keep him that way until this rotten fever breaks!''

'' Alright, Jemmy.'' Chris nodded wearily. '' That sounds like a fine idea. In fact that sounds like something I should have thought of, coming from Gloucester!''

'' We've tried all the steps, all the careful, cautious, textbook means and measures for lower grade fevers. I'm the one who's been taking baby-steps trying to fight it. And it just keeps running higher and faster. Well, I was a champion Wake county foot-racer as a boy. So I'm not about to be outrun! Let's get these sodden bedclothes, and his clothes off Coop, while we're waiting for the ice. And then we'll get him into some clean, dry, warm long johns. My idea is to freeze out the fever, not my cousin! But, if you don't mind my prying, Chris, do you know what Cooper's been talking about, what he's recalling? I know Jefferson died in a tragic way… but… ''
''It's not only that, Jemmy. And you're his doctor, not just his friend and cousin. So I don't think I'm telling you anything Coop wouldn't. A few years back, a woman, an 'actress' came on board the train with her daughter and her retinue, a Sandra Cummings. And as I only found out in the midst of her journeying with our train, she'd been a Union spy. She was captured and escaped, more than once; and on one of those occasions, young Jefferson… helped the woman escape, again. Coop only found out when he got word his younger
brother was being court-martialed.''

''And it being wartime, Jefferson was convicted and summarily executed.'' Jemmy finished sadly, stating what he knew would have had to happen. '' And this woman came to your train? Did Cooper know who she was?''

'' Apparently so. In fact, I think he spent some time, before coming to work for me, looking for her.''

''And knowing how Coop loved his brother, he'd have been hell-bent for leather where this woman was concerned.''

'' He was that. Coop told me himself afterwards; he almost couldn't recognize himself in the man he became on finding the woman he blamed for his brother's death. Myself, I think it showed the real measure of the man you and I both know, in that Coop never laid a violent hand on her. But he did try to pay her back. And I don't think he still cares much for the way he felt and acted at the time. As Coop sometimes says, I think that whole matter still 'rides him'. He saw a very dark part of himself, then. And that's never an easy thing for any man
to see, much less acknowledge.''

Jemmy sighed, and shook his head, working with Chris now to relieve Coop of sweat soaked bedding and clothing both. '' You know, I wired to see if my friends and mentors, both of them the best of doctors, Danny Hoffner and Thomas Macquillan could come out to help us help Cooper. They were in Denver, as it happens. And they're on their way here. The reason I'm mentioning it again is that Thomas… 'Mac' as we usually call him has an analogy he likes to share about the War … and its aftermath.
He says, when the War was starting, or maybe even a few years before, it seemed to him
as though we, all of us, fell into a pitch-black well, or mine shaft. And that we then spent
the next however many years you want to say we were there, doing all we could to get out, again. And more to the point, Mac says, we all did and said and things we'd never say or do
in the light of day, to get back out of that darkness. We panicked, we screamed, we tore at the walls, at ourselves and at each other. We made terrible oaths, terrible mistakes, and worse promises. We climbed on the backs of hundreds, thousands of our brothers .we did murder, we tricked, and stole, we lied, cheated, spied and, yes, sometimes, we betrayed.

And we were probably all more than a little insane, down there in the dark. But we can't
ever point fingers and say … they did something worse, they said something spectacularly evil. No, we can't, ever, Mac says, because it was too damnably dark and there was too much of
an echo down there to know who was who, much less what they did or said in that well, just to get out of it, again. So, I try real hard not to point fingers. And when he catches me at
it, you can believe me, Chris, Thomas Macquillan always calls me on it.''

'' And is it Danny, or Thomas who you said grew up in Boston?'' Hale asked, handling his chief scout as gently as he would a baby, while Coop struggled, but only feebly, now.

''Thomas, Danny hails from Silver Spring. No, it's Thomas Michael Anglim Macquillan we
like to call our very own Boston Brahmin. Oh, and of course, as you can tell by that moniker alone, there's not one Irish bone in his entire body.'' Jemmy chuckled, lifting Coop almost as easily as Duke had, up from the bed, to dress him in a set of warm, grey wool long johns.

'' it scratches, Daddy.'' Coop muttered, still caught up in his fever, but with another, happier shift in what he saw and heard. In this one, it was his father who pulled the soft, scratchy underclothes onto his arms and legs. It was, he saw, Danny Smith as he was twenty years ago, still red-headed, strong and soft spoken, and grinning widely as his older son, about
nine in this fever dream, squirmed and giggled.

Well, yes, yes, it does, Cooper. It's wool and that's usually scratchy. But it's going to help
you stay warm, now, son. And that's only to the good here. You need to get better, Cooper.
You need to get well, son. Danny Smith seemed to be telling his oldest son. People are depending on you, Cooper. And I know you won't let them down, son. You never have.

Let Jeffy down, Daddy. Let you an' Momma down, too. Didn't save him, didn't help him… Whyn't I just break Jeff outa there? Let all of you, down then… an'… later… too. In this new fever dream, Coop shook his head and despondently contradicted his father. 'm' so awfully sorry, Daddy. D'ye at least know that much?

I know that about my son and a whole lot more. So now, don't contradict me, Cooper. I … I
know your heart. I know you've grieved and pondered on all that for so long it's become like a canker. But you … son, you can't let that ride you; you simply can't let that eat away at you. Because that's not the case, son. You're not at fault. Neither of you were at fault, not the way I see it. You and Jeff were caught up in the maelstrom, son. I'd have to guess a lot of boys were, then.
But, now, listen, listen to me, Cooper. I also know just how fine, and wide and brave a heart you have, Cooper. I know how hard you've worked and fought and struggled at times to be the man Beth and I knew you would be. And that's why people are depending on you, now, just as you depended on me, when you were a boy. You've made yourself a good, strong,
fine young man, Cooper. You've proven yourself. You've kept from so many of the snares
and troubles… you've made us so terribly proud, son.

m' real worn out, Daddy… ache and hurt… and 'm burnin up … get so I can hardly move
for hurtin', or think my head aches so… m' so wearied, Daddy… can't I just… can't I just stop hurtin'… fightin' … missin' you an' momma… can't I …

it's not time, son. it's not your time. of course we miss you, of course I'd give my eye teeth
to pick you up and tuck you into your little bed upstairs, or onto the settee by the fire, the way we'd do sometimes when you felt poorly, Cooper. But that has to wait. You have to wait, don't let loose, now, son… don't let go… don't do that, son. You have so much still to see and do and find out… don't stop for anything, Cooper. Just don't you do that, leave that for another time, son. We love you, Cooper, your momma and I and Jefferson love you, for always. Lean on that, whenever you need to, but don't you drift, son, don't you let go, not now, not for anything.

'' won't… won't Daddy. won't… for always…'' the wearied man murmured, shivering again, his fever still holding.

''that's a boy.'' Chris said, settling Coop back on the bed. '' that's a boy, now.''

'' Daddy, won't let go, Daddy.''

'' Please, don't.'' Chris almost prayed. '' Don't let go, not yet. Coop. We're still in this fight,
you and I and Jemmy. And I have … I need to tell you … a great many things, that I already should've.''

''They're here with the ice, Chris.'' Jemmy said, tapping the older man's shoulder.

For the next quarter to half an hour, three orderlies, Jemmy, Chris and several nurses
worked to cover, and surround Coop's wiry frame with chunks and blocks of ice cut off
the huge ones carried there, still packed in straw. Around his forehead, Chris laid a small towel, wrapped around the smaller ice chips they'd created, cutting the larger ones. Then Jemmy nodded, took a longer towel and gently bound the 'ice bag' in its place. And then,
as their patient shook and shivered and murmured, they went back to their watching,
their praying and their waiting.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Plum Creek, Nebraska the 1870s

Coop was freezing now, he was colder than he could ever remember being. Sure, there'd
been times in the war when Coop Smith, a boy raised in the warm, green countryside of
east Texas, found himself shuddering and shaking in the colder, wetter Virginia, northern Georgia, Tennessee and Carolina winters. Of course, he'd been caught, and more than once,
while learning the trails he scouted, when an early snowfall, and a late traveling scout made
the badly timed acquaintance of each other. But now, Coop could feel nothing but the cold that wrapped around him, deep and strong enough to make him seem to stutter, to make his teeth chatter in his skull. And he couldn't remember, while he lay shivering, when or how it was the late Nebraska spring somehow turned to winter.

And more than just cold, it slowly got through to Coop that he was wet through, soaked to
the skin, which didn't help him with that freezing part, a bit. Also, he was lying face down
in water so shallow it only came halfway up his limbs, his chest, and his arms. But he didn't know where he, or that shallow water was, until he heard their voices. A raucous, jeering, mocking collection of voices, high above him. They hated him, without knowing anything about him. They delighted in beating him within an inch of his life, and likely further.
And some of them, notably their crazed, cold-eyed boss man would be just as glad to kill
him, here and now; all because they thought he was a man who as it happened was his
first cousin, another fine, proud, wild, true-hearted former Rebel, named Jess Harper.

Who asked you anything, Harper?

So, perhaps we needs must excuse your lapses in proper behavior, when they've occurred,
to your not being purely Southron. Perhaps. Yes, perhaps, that's the case, with you, Harper. Do you think so?''
'' You may answer my question, Harper.''
'One must learn from the past, after all, and yet live in the present, mustn't one, Harper?''
'' Well, with that well settled, I'll say farewell, now, Harper.
Their voices hammered at him, like cannonades, like blows, like weapons. They taunted
and lied and tried their damndest to demean him, somehow. They wanted, they needed
him to be less, to be flawed, to be worthy only of their contempt and loathing. They didn't dare to see him as another human being, another former soldier, or another man. They
were terribly afraid, and wanted to inspire only fear, only helpless, angry loathing in
all their victims, so as to justify their own. Showing them defiance, audacity, and valor,
in which Coop knew he was well and truly 'impersonating' his cousin, sparked confusion,
set off panic, and spread division amongst these murderers. And like so many other
former 'Rebels', Coop understood how bona fide courage could demoralize, terrify, and
paralyze one, or a whole wolf-pack of cowards. And that was all he needed to recall.

Workin' with those damn Yankees softened you up, has it, Harper?
' Reckon you don't have worry about any of those things, Harper.
You're not a guest, here, Harper... You're our job of work today, remember?
No questions, Harper? No curiosity? What, have all these Yankees drummed that out of you?
Somebody knock the stuffing, or the beans right out of you, did they, Harper?
A lot of boys we here knew rode with the 8th, Harper. But I don't figure anyone who came home whole has anything to brag on. All that means to me is they knew better how duck
and run.
''So you are a Turncoat, after all, Harper. You are a traitor to the Cause. And here's a starting taste of what we give to traitors!
'm not! 'm not a Traitor! Coop once more seemed to hear his younger self cry out. an' you can't ever, ever make one of me! No, nor any of my kin, ever!

Never mind these lunatics, these great fools here, Coop now turned to 'counsel' his past, his boyhood self, They're never going to win by going after men like Jess, or Jeff, or us. Look
at them, they think I'm Jess, they think I'm that other wild, true-hearted east Texas boy!
So, fine, I'll play along, play for time and play them but good, while I'm at it, since they're that blind and that dimwitted. Certain sure, we won't give them what they came after.
Jess, you know danged well, I'm not about to give you up to these mad men, much less to that muy loca they work for! Not one inch of ground, not one friend, and not any, ever, of
our flesh and blood will they get from me!

Now, the older Coop seemed to see the younger one nod, and grin wide as the Braxos or
the Rio Grande. Adopting a firmly planted, wide-legged, entirely Jess-like stance, he turned
to glare at the enemies ranged around him. Then he laughed aloud, and shook his head.
So, what th' devil do you think you know about th' 8th, Mister? Nothin' that's what! Purely nothin'! But you think I'm Jess, so alright then! My name's Jacob Emrys Sayer Smith Harper an' I signed on with Terry's Rangers, Eighth Texas Cavalry! An' we rode hell bent for leather all th' way from Pittsburgh Landing to Chickamauga, to Goldsboro, North Carolina! An' not one of us ever thought to run for cover! An' not one of us ever murdered in cold blood!
But you, you talk about boys that came home whole as though they were all cowards?

That only proves you don't know th 'first damn thing about it! You dim-glows don' even
seem t' know that out of 249 boys left fit for duty in the Rangers, come April 25th in
th' 65, only 90 stayed on another day, and surrendered with ol' Joe Johnston. All th'
rest, all th' other hundred an' fifty nine, turned west an' marched off t' fight in th'
Trans-Mississippi, t' fight an' bleed an' die there as long as they had breath in their
ragged scarecrow bodies! So, don' go talkin' about Terry's Rangers, mister boss-man,
not in th' range of hearin' of any of us still alive an' kickin' now!

Grinning fiercely, Coop could feel those fiery words warming him again But now they were like a hearth fire, like a camp fire, like a home fire, low and ardent, and brilliantly full of light. Turning, somehow, away from the frightened, panicked and desperately confused faces of
his failed killers, both young and older Smiths knew exactly who they'd see.

Momma, you're so wonderful to see! Miss you so awfully, some times, worse than others.
But you're happy again, aren't you, Momma? You're surely happy there with Jeff and Daddy,
Grampa Nate, Cousin Franklin and Aunt Jenn? he asked Elisabeth Micaela Smith, seeing
her plain as day, lithe and young and just a touch tremulous, as he remembered her when strong emotions shone through her perfect oval, freckled face, her gifted hands, and her
wide grey-blue eyes.

We're all here, dearest, and we're all saying the same thing. You're wonderful to see, Cooper, so courageous and kind and strong! I don't know when I've been prouder of you, my dearest boy. I surely don't know how I could be. And everytime I think that, Cooper, you prove me wrong!

Doesn't sound much like the manners you kept tryin' to teach me, Momma. I shouldn't be
provin' you or any fine, real lady wrong.

I think I'm up to it, Cooper. this loving dream of his mother answered. I can't truly be knocked over in the next high wind, you know. Just you go about getting better, getting
well and strong again. Just you do that, Cooper, and mind me, now!

Always, Momma, always… just like I love you, for always. Coop promised her and sighed,
as she seemed to stride away.

For always, and for always, Cooper. her voice came back, just once more.

'' for…always and for always, Momma.'' Coop murmured and with a strong sense of
receiving one of Beth's warmest hugs, opened his eyes, and blinked up at Chris Hale.

''So,'' the scout asked in a voice that hoarseness didn't begin to describe, recalling, as
he woke, the last time he'd seen the Wagonmaster. '' 'bout how much trouble am I in?''

''Considerable.'' Hale answered, his native New England bent for being taciturn fully in
place. The Texan's eyes were clear, now, though, no confusion clouding them. And his
face was much more it's natural, healthy color, not flushed red or milky pale. Coop's fever
had broken. Jemmy's freezing-out technique was a success, thanks be! But Chris hadn't
the heart to wake the young doctor, who'd curled up, 'just to rest my eyes', and still lay, gently snoring, three hours later, on the window seat.

''Kinda figured that.'' Coop nodded. ''Don't suppose you had either time or inclination to
tell the fellows I was only … bein' a pretty much literally hot-headed, 'insulterable young scalawag', did you, Chris?''

''Didn't really see the need to, Coop. They're all of them pretty well aware of that, by this time. I was wondering myself though, about something you were saying to Barney; when
did you start calling him 'old fellow', not to mention 'Mister Barnaby, sir'?'' Chris asked.

''Oh, that only started up the night little Lissa was murdered. We rode out for a bit, not
even a quarter mile from camp and back, once Reverend Parry showed up. And, it seemed to come out of nowhere, just a way to get a grin out of Barney. But, now I think I remember … not m' Daddy but Jess', our Cousin Franklin… used to try to lighten things up that way.
Seems like he even said it sometimes to Daddy! ''

''Well, they did know each other all their lives. And Danny was three years Frank's junior.
So I think you're right, I think Jess' father did plague yours that way, from time to time.'' Chris said, then groaned inwardly at what his own great weariness and greater relief let slip.

''Chris, what?'' Coop rasped, almost falling off the bed in bewilderment. ''How in the very
devil would you know that? I don't even know how much difference there was in their ages! You knew them? You knew my father? Great G-d, Chris! Is that what … That is what you were getting set to tell me that same night, isn't it?''

'' The largest part of it.'' the Gloucesterman nodded, sighing. ''And I would have finished that conversation with you well before now, Coop, I swear it; if there hadn't been just a few, small interruptions. ''

.''You knew my father? You knew him?'' Coop reiterated, still fixed on that idea. It dazed him, at first. And then, still more strangely, the notion began to make sense, all the sense in the world to him, in fact. Coop blinked, and shook his head, as if to clear it. These new ideas, this new set of startling, perfectly sensible facts, were whirling like he'd seen impersonators of dervishes doing, only in his mind

''For something over forty years, yes. I knew Danny, and greatly respected and deeply cherished him. Just as his oldest son is and I hope will always be; Danny Smith was one
of my very best, and dearest friends. But, this is a lot to take in, all at once, Coop.'' the Wagonmaster said, in a worried, chary tone. '' And I surely didn't intend to blurt it out
in quite this way. And you've just now come through yet another ordeal, with this fever.
So, perhaps it's best we leave it now, for later tonight, for tomorrow... ''

'' Dunno. Dunno, Chris. I … It almost feels as though I … I could've guessed it! And I'm surely no kind of seventh son. They had some troubles… Daddy only told me, years later, they lost… three babies, a boy and two girls born too early on, he said. That… that only makes me a second son… '' Coop pressed his hands to his mouth for a moment, as if not sure what might pop out, then looked up at Hale again, his blue eyes shining with greatly mixed emotions.
Then he shook his head, and chuckled, mostly at himself because he kept going back to the core idea.
'' You knew my father. This … is gonna take me a… little while, Chris. One minute I can't seem to get my head around it, and all I can think is… How, when you're from Gloucester? And the next, I'm thinkin'… so, that's how it is you read me better than I'd like, some times, and just how I'd wish to be read… others. Mebbee you even know the next question I don't know if I want the answer to… ''

'' I think I might. At least I know what I've been expecting you to ask me, Coop, right out of the box, as it were, from the time I knew I was going to tell you about this. Or more precisely, from the time I realized I might not get the chance to tell you.'' Chris said, sitting on the chair beside Coop's bed.

'' Alright. Let's find out. Kate got this out of you, so she knows. And, I'm… I'm fine with that, pretty much. Pretty much. Kate's fine. I like her. And she can surely be as close-mouthed
as any man I know and more than a lot of 'em. So, who else knows that you knew my Dad, years and years before you offered his son the job as your chief scout?'' Coop asked, with
a look in his eyes, Chris thought, as though he was daring himself not to flinch or look away for even an instant. It was a look very much like one of Beth Cooper Smith's most earnestly determined expressions.

''Jemmy. Jemmy, because he couldn't help seeing how I was agonizing over not telling you before you were hurt so badly; because he's your family and your friend, and your doctor. You, me, Jemmy Singer and Kate Crawley, know this, Coop, and no one else who's still walking the living world. And if you want it; and more to the point, if you'll accept it, my friend, I'll gladly give you my solemn word on that.''

''Chris, I'd take your word if you told me the sun wasn't gonna rise in the east, tomorrow.
I think you know that. '' Coop half-grinned and then grew serious again. '' But, there is… another part to that question. And I hope I know the answer. I surely hope I do. So here it is: Is knowing … is being my father's friend the reason you made me that offer? Is Daniel Smith the reason I have this job with you, his friend of forty years?'' the scout sat back, and squared his shoulders, with some awkwardness, the left one still in a splint, and waited Hale's answer with the affect of a man knowingly stepping in front of a firing squad.

''No.'' Chris answered, eye to eye with the younger man. '' Your work before you came to the train is the reason you have this job, Coop. And your father would be just as furious, and just as right to be so as you, if the opposite was the case here. He, well you know this, Coop, Danny was an absolute bear on the subject of uncompromising fairness, of a man's merits being his only true wealth, I know how often I heard him use that latter phrase. So I know you must have. You earned this job; and you've gone right on earning the right to keep it.
On my friendship with your father, Coop, that is the G-d's honest truth of the matter.''

'' The sun is gonna come up in the east in the morning, isn't it, Chris?'' Coop asked with a tired laugh.

'' Insofar as I know, Coop. Insofar as I know.'' Chris nodded, on a vast sigh of relief.

Now Coop shivered, and looked down at himself, his long johns, the bed and the bedding.
Every inch of him, and of them was sodden, soaked through and still holding an ice chip here and there.

'' Out of those clothes, mister.'' Jemmy commanded, laughing as he woke up, stood up, and strode over to the bed. '' Can't have you getting over this danged fever, only to have you expire from pneumonia, now can we, Chris?''

''What'd you do, Jemmy, import the whole, entire North Pole down here?'' Coop laughed, only to find his ribs were still somewhat unforgiving.

'' Prett much, Cousin. prett much. And it's danged good thing I did. We were getting really tired of your old War stories, especially magnified twenty, fifty, a hundred times into fever dreams! You really didn't take over the whole eastern and western theatres all on your own, Cooper. There truly were a few other boys around at the time, you know.'' Jemmy chuckled, and started to help rid the Texan of his sodden long johns. That done, and a dry set acquired, a heavily blanketed Coop was ordered to the window seat while an orderly helped Jemmy change the bed.

''There were a whole lot of other boys, Cousin. That's partly what I was … likely hollerin' about … with that fever. They were what I was seein' certain sure. Ouch! What in blue
blazes are you pokin' me with now?'' Coop protested as Jemmy, still in doctor-mode,
charily prodded at his right side.

''My right index finger, Cooper. And I wasn't poking, I was palpating the next hurdle we
need to get you over, before it can start up another round of chills and fever for you.
It's an abscess on, thankfully, the right lobe of your liver. And we're going to relieve you
of it. Cousin, sometime in the next few days. Nothing to worry about, now we've put that fever out of commission.''

''Nothing to worry about?'' Coop laughed a bit tiredly. '' How come it is, every time
somebody with an M.D. or similar accomplishments tells me there's nothing to worry
about; I figure I'd best start worryin' all the more? Now, why'd you think that would
be, Cousin?''

'' You've only known really, really bad doctors?'' Jemmy laughed. ''No, seriously, Coop,
It's… a whole lot like lancing a boil, that's all.

Also, you don't have to be worried about my doing it, which you have every right to do; being as I'm a bit short-handed. Danny Hoffner is due here tomorrow or the next day, latest, to do it. And he's the most gifted surgeon I've ever seen, bar none. And with him is coming the doctor who actually taught both of us doctorin', and a whole lot more, and a whole lot more doctors besides us, Thomas Macquillan.''

''Uh-huh, three docs for one little ..procedure? Coop shook his head and turned to the Wagonmaster. '' Chris, get me the heck out of here, will you? Jemmy honestly thinks he just very much reassured me; and he couldn't be further off the mark! So, let's get going!''

'' Absolutely not.'' Hale answered, hiding a smile at the young Texan's reaction.

'' Well, why the devil not? You're as good with doctorin as anybody I know. And you don't
go lancin' boils inside a fellow's … insides, do you?''

'' I haven't done that , no, Coop. But what I have done over the past fortnight, now,
is to watch your Cousin use every thing he's learned, or read or heard of to save your
life. And he's done that four, no, five times now, in just that period of time. So, if
Jemmy says he's going to help his two doctor friends get rid of this abscess, I'm
absolutely going to take his word he will.
And you might also want to know, my unreassured young friend, that this same abscess
is what has had you laid up with a raging fever, for most of the past two weeks, now.
And that we had to work like Trojans to knock that fever down, so the blasted thing can
be got rid of. I'd imagine you understand that wasn't possible while you were thrashing
about there in a fine delirium.
And if you didn't understand me before, Coop, then understand me now. It was knowing
you would use just this kind of ridiculous, pointless arguments designed to get your way,
no matter the consequences, that pretty well decided me to stay behind in the first place. So just grin and bear it, my friend. This Tar Heel cousin of yours has earned my fullest confidence. I would have assumed he already had yours.''

'' I do, Chris.'' Jemmy answered grinning, when Coop shrugged and looked away. '' Cooper's just being contrary, about now. I don't think he much likes, just at the moment, that you know him so well. But then, I don't think my cousin likes anyone knowing him inside out. Jess has always been the same way. Both of them have always been exasperatingly proud, annoyingly independent-minded cusses, wouldn't you say so, Coop?''

''Sounds about right.'' Coop muttered, then turned to look at Hale. '' Sorry, Chris, you do know me, so, reckon you know just how much I hate bein' stuck somewhere, and being prodded by doctors.''

'' Yes, I seem to recall those particular character traits.'' Chris smiled.

'' Hey, Jemmy, speakin' of proud, independent minded cusses, have you heard back from Jess, yet?'' Coop asked, as the doctor walked him slowly back to the now clean, dry bed.

'' Not one word. I'm beginning to think I'm still not one of his favorite kin folk.'' Jemmy shrugged, trying to make light of an ache more than ten years old now.

'' He doesn't have that many to spare, Jemmy, not unless we start counting second cousins, and first cousins three or four times removed! When did you write Jess?''

'' Just as soon as I got to Kearney. And I had to write to Aunt Peg first of all, to find out where Francie's living now, to write her, before I knew where to write her brother! So that was nearly four weeks ago. And for good measure, when you got hurt, I sent Jess a wire. Next I guess I'll try a passenger pigeon! Wait, Cooper, Jess told me once he taught you to read and write, so I know the boy can read. Or did I get that backwards, again?'' Jemmy laughed.

'' Jess told you what?'' Coop yelped, and then groaned as his ribs still weren't in a lenient mood. ''Well, that settles it. When I get up and out of … Oh, sorry, Jem, sorry, Chris, when
I'm allowed to get out of here, I'm headin' straight to Wyoming Territory to shake some of
the nonsense out of 'th' boy' my own self! Want to come on along for the fun, Cousin?''

'' Only if I don't decide to get in that line ahead of you, Cousin.''

'' Get that, Jemmy, figure that. What about those crazed but not too awfully bright folks I ran into, y' know, with my head? ''

'' I'm actually expecting nuestro amigo muy loco, Teo to slip away from them just long enough, sometime in the next week or so. Then we'll have a better idea of what they're planning next. And my partner Adam Morgan's on his way here, along with Danny and Mac, from Denver. When we can all put our heads together with what Teo's found out, we'll have a prett good idea what we should be planning, to try and get the jump on these lunatics.
Adam's our best analyst. He has a real genius for looking at heaps of hard information and sifting out what helps and what doesn't. And the more pieces you give him, the better Adam likes it. He gets like a kid with one of those ships that end up inside a bottle. And nothing is going to stop the man until he gets that 'ship' either in or out, as needed. Seriously, nothing. You'd have a better chance of distracting one of the guards in front of Buckingham Palace!''

'' Well, I'm not sure if I should be flattered or provoked by that description, Jemison, my lad.'' a booming baritone voice called out from the hallway outside the sickroom. Its inimitable owner followed it across the threshold, a big, bluff, broad shouldered man in his late thirties, as dark as a Greek and nearly as tall as Duke Shannon. ''We haven't been properly introduced, gentlemen, as my partner has no understanding at all of etiquette, protocol or anything else outside a military or medical facility.'' the newcomer laughed, and swept a courtier's bow. '' Adam Morgan, of San Francisco and many, many points east, at your service, and very glad to meet you both.''

'' You should be flattered, Adam. or was that a rhetorical question?'' Jemmy laughed in turn, gladly embracing the older man. ''Mr Christopher Hale, of Gloucester, Mass. and many, many points west, and my cousin Cooper Smith, of east Texas, etc, etc, etc, … my partner, Adam.'' Jemmy finished, rolling his eyes heavenwards. ''Adam, did you just leave Mac and Danny to deal with the train and the luggage and the hotel, or didn't' they come with you?''

'' No, I didn't , no, I didn't, no, I didn't. And no they didn't. Mac got called to consult on an emergent case of some sort, back in Denver and Danny, curious as always, tagged along with him. They might not make it here for another two or three days. No doubt if you'd been within arm's reach they'd have taken you along with them, Jem. All I heard about it was that the son or nephew of some Denver nouveau riche nabob was found in grave condition, in one of the sections of town that nabob's sons and nephews aren't even supposed to know about.

Now, since I'm here to help you on this case with Jemison, I'd like to start right away. And I'll start by asking you, Mr. Smith; as our only surviving witness to date, what do you recall about these killers?'' Morgan, who seemed all fripperies and fancies on his entrance, sat down and became emphatically all-business, to the point of pulling a battered notebook and pencil from his coat pocket, and jotting notes in a coded, rapid fire style of his own invention.

'' Well, not very much, so far.'' Coop shrugged, chagrinned to be a possible source of 'hard information' and have almost none to offer. ''There were nine or ten of them, altogether, I think. And they were all about as different, tall and short and such, as you could imagine.

But they all wore… cowhand's long dusters, and they all wore cavalry officer's slouch hats, Confederate cavalry. Figure to hide for the most part, what they look like, including what kind of clothes they might be wearing. But, there was one of them… '' Coop frowned and squinted, trying to catch a scrap of memory as if it were a lightning bug. And it was slipping through his 'fingers' until he made one more somber effort.

''One of them … was a woman! I'm sure of it! I heard her voice! She sat astride a big steel dust stallion, and held a rifle on me, as if she'd done both those things all her life! But she talked … She spoke like the hostess at a ladies' tea! And not what she said, the way she
said it! And Teo, your friend Teo, Jemmy, he told me they take her orders, and they surely
did while I was there, 'esa loca', Teo called her. And he really hit the nail on the head, that time!'' Coop knew he was wearing down again, not feverish now but well aware of the pain in his right side. He wanted to try recalling more, even though the flash of memory with that woman's half hidden face and chill voice wasn't one he welcomed. Still, he was determined to hide his discomfort.

''No use, Cooper. We see right through you. '' Jemmy said, without a single note of laughter anywhere in his tone, as he sat down and made as gentle as possible an examination of Coop's right side, that was nearly rigid now as the Texan reacted to the pain. '' Well,
between Chris and myself, we can. I know all your tricks from years ago, and he knows
all your newer ones, you see. So, just give over, will you, damn it, Cousin?''

''Well, since you ask the man so nicely, Jem, how can he refuse?'' Morgan laughed. Coop decided he liked the San Franciscan, as different from men the Texan knew as he was.

Jemmy turned to frown darkly at his partner. '' Thanks, really, thanks a lot, Adam. And enough already with the questions for my patient, for now. ''

''Don't mention it, Jem. Thanks, thanks, Mr. Smith. ''

'' Mr. Smith was my father, or more like, my grandfather. '' the Texan answered, ''Call me Coop, and tell me, will you if that's any help at all?''

'' Absolutely.'' Morgan agreed.

''Absolutely, when I say so.'' Jemmy amended, taking charge of his sickroom and his patient.

Suddenly from nowhere he could pinpoint, and for no reason he could catch hold of, near-panic rose in Coop that he could barely restrain. Something about the way Jemmy had frowned, or something about the soft clinks and clanks of whatever he was handling on t
he bedside table, sparked another image, other sounds that almost paralyzed the Texan.
And in the next instant his weary, muddled brain seemed to tell him where both came from.

'' Just don't try your danged laudanum or other dope on me, Jemmy, you hear?'' Coop demanded, nearly hissing the words through clenched teeth. For some reason he couldn't begin to catch hold of, even in his own exhausted brain that idea, taking drugs that
crippled so many wounded soldiers, abruptly sickened and terrified him. ''I came away
home without any of that, I came home without once… touching th' damnable stuff! Don't
you come at me with it now!''

'' I'm not, I won't. You don't need it now, Cooper.'' Jemmy was quick to agree, quick to reassure his cousin, while casting one swift, bewildered glance at Chris, who shared it, shrugging. '' All we're going to do now is put some hot compresses on your side, and that
will start to ease you right away. That's all you need, and so we're not about to do anything more, I swear it. I've done this plenty of times, Cooper, plenty. I don't use opiates when there's no need of them, ever. I've seen the boys destroyed by them, maybe more than
you have. And I know what the least little things can do instead of those, to ease a fellow, believe me, I do. ''

''Yeah, yeah, I know, I know, Jem…my… m' sorry… m' sorry, Cousin.'' Coop said, feeling shaken and feeling very much like the little boy he'd been, long ago, losing his temper often, and just as often seeking to make amends.

''Nothing to worry about, Cousin, nothing at all, and no hard feelings.'' Jemmy told him, and meant it, remembering a few old times himself, when his own temper got the better of him, mostly when he was very scared.
[And what in the very devil just scared th' bejeezus out of you, Cooper? When before now were you hurt badly enough that someone would drug you, without your permission? Ah, G-d! Did those bastards at the stream-bed have time give you laudanum, or worse to give you morphine? And if they did, why in blue blazes would they?]

Setting his questions aside for now, Singer swiftly organized a sort of relay, intended to
supply Coop with the compresses he mentioned, towels folded thickly, then thoroughly
soaked in hot water. These went on and were held against Coop's painful, almost rigid right side by wide lengths of gauze, until the whole arrangement cooled and was replaced. And
they worked the hoped for wonder, easing and letting the Texan doze and drift off most of that afternoon and evening. When Coop fell asleep, Jemmy drew his partner and Chris Hale
to sit with him by the window. And now in hushed, worried voices they shared their questions, qualms and fears about Coop's revelations.

'' A woman, Coop said. A woman riding with these killers?'' Chris asked, appalled.

'' A multiply gifted woman, he said, and the one who's directing these killers.'' Adam amended. ''And that was actually what our friend Teo apparently told your friend Cooper.
And I'm wondering, Jem, when did you last hear from Teo, and when's he due to report in?''

'' Last was a fortnight past. So he's due in the next four, five days to come and be debriefed. And am I thinking what you are, partner, that we should just pull Teo out of there, and let the other fellows keep on?'' Jemmy asked.

' I would. If only because, from what you reported, young Teo's been there the longest,
and he may be getting over-confident, taking too many chances, lately, amongst that pack
of wolf's heads… No, no, that's a grave insult to both wolves and all medieval British out-laws everywhere!''

'' Alright, Teo comes out and stays out. He knows how to set up a suitable departure for one Tyler Pierce. He should, you taught him how to cause a fine, distracting scene to cover an exit, Adam. But, what about this out of nowhere panic about taking laudanum, Chris, does this fit in with anything Coop's said before when he was injured?'' Jemmy wondered, turning to the New Englander.

'' I started to say, no, absolutely not.'' Hale told the agents. ''But that's not so. As long as
I've known Coop he's had a great abhorrence to taking painkillers of just about any kind, unless it was a shot or two of whiskey down his gullet. And as you said yourself, Jemmy, you've seen the reason why a few hundred, a few thousand times over, since the War,
in what we politely refer to as the 'soldier's disease'. But that's in general terms, and it's
a blot on the whole nation that we let it happen.
But this wasn't general or second hand. This wasn't Coop being outraged at what's happened to former soldiers. This time Coop was clearly terrified of being drugged himself, without his knowledge, much less his permission. And its got me thinking back to the night you and Duke rode up the trail and found him, Jemmy.
It's got me thinking about what a frightening time we had with Coop's breathing those first two, no, those first three nights. And I don't need a doctor's license to tell me that laudanum and morphine depress breathing. That was supposed to be one of the major benefits in using them for sedation and pain! And yet, it makes no sense for those murderers… I can't make any sense of beating a man within an inch of his life, and then … ''

''And then dosing him with one kind of opiate or another?'' Adam finished, frowning tautly. '' And I can only think of one, not very pleasant scenario along those lines exactly. The boy,
the richman's son in Denver, was attacked, by robbers, the constables thought. But they left something with him, too. They left the poor kid with an armful of morphine.

He nearly died the first night and now probably half wishes he had done. He's probably dependent already.''

''Adam, wait a minute!'' Jemmy said, barely keeping his voice down. '' Great G-d, Adam! I
just realized there could be an even more deranged pattern to what these murderers have been doing. And you're about to clinch it for me, partner.''

'' I am? Wow, I must really be a genius.'' Adam jibed.

'' We'll talk about your intellect another time, partner.'' Jemmy frowned. '' Just tell me, Adam, what if any, connection this boy in Denver has to the 8th Texas Cavalry, to Terry's Rangers. ''

'' Well, let me take a look, partner. '' Adam said, leafing through his notebook/journal. '' Yes, yes, here it is. Jem, I think you're turning into the genius here. The boy's maternal uncle rode with the 8th Texas, came home, took a share in his sister's husband's businesses, and. died in bed? Hold on, just another second. Yes, here it is, he died in his sister's home in Denver,
of pneumonia, just over a year ago.''

''Pneumonia, '' Jemmy repeated thoughtfully. '' Maybe, or maybe not just that. Friends, unless I'm wrong and I'd really love to be wrong, this time. this is lunacy worse than we've even begun to guess.''

'' Why would you say that, Jem?'' his partner asked.

'' Because, Adam, if I'm right we're not looking at a band of lunatic killers. We're looking
at a loosely organized, quasi-military group of people so insane they're seeking to spread 'the soldier's disease'! And they're starting with men who served in the 8th Texas, their close kin or their survivors. And yes, some of the people they've targeted have died, like Melissa Burke, and nineteen others, which doesn't seem to phase these bastards one whit! But, thinking now about the autopsies we've done, thinking about the way those twenty people died, the only common denominators, all along have been ties to the 8th Texas, and being heavily dosed with opiates; morphine, laudanum or patent medicines. But if I'm right, those deaths were never what they were trying for, damn them!''
''And now we have Coop, and this youngster in Denver who haven't died, thank G-d,
following these attacks. And maybe they're just the lucky ones, here. But I'm less and less sure I believe that, now. We know the boy in Denver was drugged. And we have some prett strong indicators that Coop was, as well. And I … damn it, I missed things that should have thrown up flares and started all the alarms in my brain at once and sent up a few dozen red flags, to boot!
I saw how listless, how badly confused and disoriented Coop was when we found him.
I chalked that up to a contra-coup concussion. I saw how he, like Chris said, had a lot of difficulty breathing, for several days after the attack. And I let that go under the heading of badly broken ribs. I've been looking at this case for over a year now, Mac's whole team has. And opiates were either the primary or secondary cause of death, each and every time! And I never looked for, never even considered looking for signs of Cooper being drugged by these lunatics! What in the very devil is wrong with me?'' Jemmy asked of no one in particular and standing, made to slam his fist into the doorjamb.

''Jem, first of all, '' Adam said quietly, standing up, and swiftly, strongly grasping his
partner's arm in mid-swing. 'we don't need this doorjamb even half as much as we need
your remaining hand just the way it is now, whole and sound. Secondly yes, we've been treating this as a series of murder investigations, all of us on the team have, partner. And frankly, if the Director hadn't started getting pressure from higher ups in Washington; we'd have left them as that, twenty separate cases of murder, to be dealt with in their separate, local jurisdictions.

That being said, I believe you're very likely to be onto something, here, Jemison. And you know how it makes me crazy to agree with my partners, any of my partners. And I think I'm going to end up wiring the Director, and Mac, Jacques and Ori, and half a dozen of the other lead agents we've got out on this damnable case, with this new theory you've come up with . And before that, I think we should sit back down and hash that theory out a bit more, rather than casting blame in all directions, including your own. Alright?''

''You agree with me?'' Jemmy asked, with a taut half grin. ''Adam, are you feeling okay?''

''Never mind how I'm feeling. How are we going to prove this engrossing new theory of
the case is in fact … the fact of the matter? We can't possibly track down all the surviving veterans of the 8th Texas. We already know that, because for one thing, we have less than half their regimental records still intact! And for another, if we knew every present address for every name on their roster, we don't have the manpower, much less the other resources to go around the country, seeking to find out if they came home with 'the soldier's disease' And, Jem, considering these are all former Confederates, why on earth would they tell us that, if it were the case?''

''They wouldn't, not for the most part.'' Jemmy nodded with a tired smile and a non-verbal 'thanks'. '' ''And we're not going to even start asking. We're not even going to look at CSA records for the Texas 8th. In fact, you and I aren't going to look at any records, right now. You've got a whole room full of analysts to do that kind of thing, partner. And they're going to look at hospital records, north and south.''

'' Hospital records…'' Morgan repeated and then smiled at his partner, while Chris watched their highly-charged give and take with some interest and no little amusement. ''Hospital records, for former members of Terry's Texas Rangers, wounded seriously enough at some point during the War, to require the use of morphine, laudanum or both. Alright, that surely must be a much smaller population to search in. But still…''

'' Take it one step further, or more precisely, one step smaller, partner. First, we need to
know who those wounded men were. And then we need to know which of them has since passed away. Because I think those two factors are at the center of all this lunacy. This is someone's idea of getting fairly exact, and fairly exacting revenge on the 8th Texans who
not only came home again, but who came home whole and sound, at least compared to
those who returned from 'the Conflict' with troubles they couldn't begin to overcome.''

'' What'd I just say about genius? In other words, these maniacs may be trying to redress what they'd call a colossal imbalance, if not an outright injustice. One of their own fell to this 'disease', why not the others?''

''Job's question?'' Chris murmured. ''Why is there immense suffering in this house or country and what must seem like far less, even none in that family or town or region? Indeed, why is there suffering at all? And of course there's no understanding the answer to that. Easy to see how that can lead to madness.''

'' Mr. Hale, I suspect you of being not only a gentleman but a scholar, and not only those but a philosopher as well.'' Adam said, sketching another bow, with a mischievous smile in his dark bright eyes. '' Have you never thought of government work, sir?''

''Never.'' Chris answered, with a half grin of his own. ''And right now, I mean to retire, for
the evening that is. Very interesting, very disturbing ideas, Jemmy, Mister Morgan. You won't mind if I hope we're all wrong about this, will you?''

''We're praying to be found wrong, actually, in this instance, anyway.'' Jemmy told him. '' G'night, Chris. See you in the morning.''

'' See you in the morning, Jemmy, unless.'' Chris said with a quick glance at Coop, still sound asleep for once.
''Unless.'' Jemmy promised his new friend and sat back as Chris left the room, to talk more with his long-term friend about what had or hadn't happened to his life long friend, Cooper Smith.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
CHAPTER FOURTEEN

'' Jemmy? Cousin, you awake over there?'' Coop asked, waking up himself as the deepest part of the night turned towards dawn. ''Jemmy?''

Jemmy had stretched out on the window seat, when Adam went to start sending 'a few dozen wires'. Now, always a light sleeper, he was up and at Coop's bedside in half a moment.
'' What's the matter, Cousin? Is your side troubling you again, Cooper?'' the young doctor demanded.

'' No, not just now, not as much, anyhow. But I'm about ready to toss this battered, fogged in brain pan of mine, for all the good it seems to do me, just lately. Seems like I keep tripping over things I should've already done or said or at the very least figured out.'' Coop shook his head.

''Seems to me, Cousin that it was Cousin Beth who always said to watch out for should haves and such … especially after the fact. But, truth to tell, I've done some tripping-over of my own, just lately. So, we're in the same boat, I'd figure. So, what did you trip over, waking
up just now?'' the doctor persisted.

''That my doctor-cousin from Raleigh saved my life two or three times, just lately, and I haven't thanked him even once, just for starters. Thanks, Jemmy. '' Coop answered, shrugging. '' Momma would tan my backside for forgetting that.''

'' Ah heck, Cooper, it's what I do for a living.'' the Tar Heel doctor shrugged. '' Can't seem to keep from doin' it a bit. Adam says I'd have my own hospital by now, if I could only stand still long enough. ''

'' Jemmy, since when do you need to do anything for a living?'' Coop chuckled, shaking his head. '' I've seen Mirandahl, you know, that tiny, broken down shack your family has owned for just about ever, outside Raleigh. Matter of fact, I got born there. And as to what you do for a living, I thought that had mostly to do with a fellow goes by the name Sam Grant.''

'' Ulysses Simpson Grant.'' Jemmy responded with a mock frown creasing his forehead. ''Which doesn't really explain what I'm doing in the wilds of Nebraska. But you said, for starters, what else is rattlin' around up there?''

'' Mebbee one of the same things rattlin' around in your brain-case these days. I'm wondering if my North Carolina cousin is wondering if our younger cousin has some kind of mad on with him. Kinda wondering when you're gonna just take off for Wyoming Territory and get all that straightened out with Jess; seeing as he's not answering your letter or your wire. "

'' Nope, you're just wondering if you can't get me out of here so there's only Chris to keep you pegged here till you get better. Thing is, Cooper, I don't doubt for a minute Chris Hale's up to doin' just that. I mean peggin' you to the floorboards here, if need be. B'sides, I don't have any reason to think Jess' is angry with me. We sat and talked a good length of time,
last we were both in Nacogdoches. He's just not any kind of letter writer. And b'sides, I
prett much told him he should be thinking about goin' to ground for a spell, while these lunatics are still rampaging. Figure that's just what he's doing, right now.''

'' Mebbee. Jess has never been one to stand down from a fire-fight, though. Add to that … Jemmy, I don't know what Francie wrote you… ''

'' She said her tumbleweed of a brother seems to be staying put prett well these days. And that she really likes the place and the people he's staying put around, too, that Jess' is finally in a good place, in his head, too. Now if we can just catch up these killers, before they come anywhere near th' boy!'' Jemmy almost prayed.

'' And I'm in on that, Jemmy. What with getting' bunged up, pulled off the trail and sidelined, I'm definitely in on that take-down! Not to mention they're likely still goin' after Jess; it's getting' danged personal, y' know?'' Coop insisted.

''Figured that, Cooper.'' Jemmy nodded. '' But don't take that as any kind of a 'bye'. You got that, Cousin? The more and more I know about these maniacs the less and less I want anyone I give a flying fig about within shouting distance of them.''

'' But we don't… you don't know who the devil they are, right?'' the Texan demanded.
'' We're working on a couple of ideas to find that out, maybe even a way to smoke them out
of wherever it is they go to ground in between their murders. Teo's due in sometime in the next few days. He'll be able to give us an even better idea on how we can do just that. These lunatics are prett damn tricky. So it seems to me that we need to start being even trickier. We've got to stop their run, Cooper!''

'' And we will, Cousin. By the way, where' d you find that friend of yours, Adam. He's kinda hard to figure, himself.'' Coop assured the young doctor, falling easily into older-cousin mode.

'' Well, he was with General Grant at Vicksburg, and with George Thomas at Chickamauga. And he got stuck inside Knoxville for a time, when Bedford Forrest was stirring up the countryside. What Adam will never tell you is, he's also one of the fellows that helped open
up the 'cracker line' to lift the siege at Chattanooga. So, he's actually not much for boasting, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding.
He's a Shakespearean actor, a writer, a composer, and a painter, amongst other things. Also,
he's my best friend, my partner and sharp as a tack with finding out counterfeiters, getting
us both out of a jam while hardly breaking a sweat, and solving puzzles that stump some
of the brightest folks I know. And what Adam doesn't know about almost anything, Cousin,
you could fit in your hat and have a heckuva lot of room left over.'' Jemmy knew he'd been rattling on, as Coop grew quiet and then yet quieter. '' What more is on your mind, Cooper?'' Jemmy asked.

'' 'm not sure, exactly. If it was Chris, he'd probably say he'd had one of his premonitions.
And the truth is, he's had some that panned out really well. I'm just … I've got the same kind of feeling I've had when a heavy storm is brewing, or when I've been hunkered down, waitin' for the Blackfeet, the Kiowa, or the Arapaho nations, or the whole, entire Army of the Potomac to come boiling over the next rise at me, at us! Nothin' personal Cousin. No offense meant.'' Coop admitted.

'' None taken, sounds prett much like the feeling I used to get, readying the tents and the tools, tables and the cots for what would come boiling at us, after the whole, entire Army of Northern Virginia came howling over the next hill! Seems like a million years ago, doesn't it, Cooper?'' the Carolinian asked his cousin, shaking his head at the least cherished of his War memories.

'' And like yesterday, sometimes. '' Coop nodded. '' Only…that's another way I knew those
real friendly folks I met recently were totally crazed, Jemmy. You and I, me and Duke, or Chris … or the other fellows, can sit and talk about the war , entirely in the past tense, if
you get my meaning. Those killers, on the other hand, made a point of sayin' the wars not over, leastwise, not for them. And they weren't; that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, far as they were concerned. And that right there fits real well into my idea of bein' muy loco!

''Mine too, Coop. And I've heard the same notion, from some folks back east, more often than I care to tell you. Seems to me, though, it's mostly civilians who want a war to start, to go on, to just keep on goin' to the last drop, the last man has to bleed, I guess.
And they'll hold to that, as long as it's not their blood or their last surviving son's, either! Not a single, solitary soldier or former soldier I've ever known would say or want any such thing, ever. And yet there's been a certain feel to these killings; that makes me think I may be wrong about that, in this case.
I told Chris Hale, not long after we met, that I'd hate to think any physician would be party to these attacks and killings. And that I knew there could be because of the access these killers seem to have to a constant supply of the drugs they're using. And in much the same way, I'd hate to think that any soldier, any man who came through that War, our War, nearly ten years ago, would still raise his hand against men who happened to be on the other side of all those bloody battlefields, much less against men who fought beside him! '' Jemmy exclaimed.

'' I'm with you there, Cousin. But, figure it's my turn to ask, now, Jemmy, what's worrying at you, tonight like a puppy with an old shoe?''

Jemmy grinned at the Texan, bright as day, and then his bright green eyes grew thoughtful, along with his voice. It'd been awhile since they talked about anything except Coop's recovery, and the troubles they were still facing.

''Oh, nothing much, Cousin. I have the feeling lately that I understand better these days, why you and Jess, and so many other boys came out here… out to the wide open plains and such. It's surely a fine country. And I've heard Wyoming Territory's prettier than Nebraska.
I'm way too citified these days myself, getting soft and spoiled by living in the District, I guess. Missed the pony-swim last summer, looks like I'll miss it again this year. Now, that's the kind of thing that a fellow has to stay in shape for.'' Jemmy answered.

'' pony… pony-swim? That's what you told me about years ago, isn't it? Culling the wild pony herds out on those islands in the Chesapeake? Sounds like a real fine time. Must be a little bit more interestin' now, when you've got just the one wing, there, Cousin.'' Coop grinned.

'' Interestin' doesn't begin to describe what happened!'' Jemmy laughed. '' But I'm never going to turn down the chance to do that again, or go out on the breakers to dig for clams,
or go sailing on the Bay. I spent most the spring and summer doing those things; and ridin', takin' care of the Place, and tramping around up in the hills with my Dad, two years ago. I wouldn't trade one second of those days for all the brass medals, fancy commendations or supposed honors in the World! ''

''He was the best, your Dad, Jemmy, just the best!'' Coop offered, quietly offering comfort for the loss of Stephen Singer to his son, setting one hand on the younger man's shoulder. '' And everybody that ever knew him would say as much. It stays with me, to this day; Cousin, the kind, patient way he counseled me, and you and Jess before the War started, when mine and Jess' Daddys were already gone. And how he came back to Nacogdoches, when Momma was failing; surely knowing all the while some stiff-necked folks around those parts wouldn't want him there, much less make him welcome.''

''I was awfully proud of him, then; and always, really. I learned what courage means from him.'' Jemmy nodded, blinking hard at the tears brightening his bright green eyes. '' Just like you learned from Cousin Danny. This friendship… Coop, I hope you understand why I asked Chris about that.. about his friendship with your father?''

'' It was riding him hard, Chris told me, that he hadn't already spilled the beans. Tellin' you helped him, I know that, Jemmy without Chris even sayin' so in so many words. And, Chris is, the best friend I have. But don't go tellin' him I said so. So, no, I don't mind a bit. Right now, though, I'm mostly tryin' to get that whole idea of him being friends with Daddy, to fit inside my brain-case. But I can't find a hard word to say about it. Maybe getting knocked around so hard rattled my brains around another way about such things.

Mostly, I know the man. And there's not a spiteful, not a devious, not an underhanded bone
in his whole, entire body. Chris Hale has a hot Irish temper, and a stubborn streak as wide
as the Platte, too. But not anything low or mean or cowardly about him, ever. So, I guess that means I know he was going to tell me about knowin' Daddy sometime, that he meant to; and that he thought I'd go straight through the roof, on hearing about it. '' Coop answered, and then looked up, with a wide, sleepy grin, at a familiar foot-fall.

''I did that.'' Chris admitted, from the doorway. '' You two haven't been jawing all night, have you? It's nearly dawn!''

''Only half the night, really.'' Jemmy answered, with a wink at his cousin. ''And it's my turn now to catch some sleep, before Danny and Mac show up. G'night, fellas.''

''Good night, Jemmy. Or maybe I should say Good morning.'' Chris smiled, and then straddled the chair he'd left, beside the bed table. ''You don't look nearly as bad as I feel this morning, Coop. I need to get out for a ride, I'm way too stiff when I wake up, these days. '' the Wagonmaster joked.

''Then maybe you should be the one stuck in bed here.'' Coop offered. '' Trade you places?''

''No, sir. Because of the two of us, I'm still the one who wasn't beaten within an inch of his life, by mistake I might add, a little while ago.''

''Reckon those lunatics are the only ones who made the mistake that time, Chris. Jemmy says his fellas are working on smokin' them out of wherever their hole in the ground may be. And
I told Jemmy I'm not stayin' behind anywhere, for any reason, when he goes to finally take those fellows down. Thought I'd best tell you now, so you can work on getting' used to the idea. ''

'' And am I supposed to be surprised by just how rash you can be, at this point in our acquaintance? Because I'm not, Coop.'' Chris asked, with a half grin.

Coop laughed and looked down a moment, and smiled a touch sadly, when he saw and pulled his worn and weathered journal, from the shelf under the bed table. '' You knew Daddy, Chris.'' the Texan said and it was no longer a question. '' So, I figure you know how I came by this beat up old journal, too, don't you?''

'' As a matter of fact, I do. Because as it happens I have one of those, from the same source exactly. Yours was a going to boarding-school present. And mine was a thank you gift, Danny gave me, when I agreed to do something for him.'' Chris nodded.

Now Coop looked up and over sharply at the Gloucesterman. '' To do something for him, Chris?'' he echoed, warily. '' Or to do something for me, sometime, when a good chance,
or a good job came up?''

'' No, for Danny. And that's the G-d's honest truth of the matter.'' Chris answered looking the younger man directly in the eye. ''Go on, Coop, I fully expected you to ask these questions.''

''' Alright, fine. T'other night you said… I was a little muzzy. But I'm still pretty sure you said only you, and me, now, Kate and Jemmy know you knew my father. Did I hear you right, Chris? Nobody else on the train, on the crew knows this?''

''Not one other living soul. And I have no intention of that ever changing, Coop. This is strictly between you and I, and Jemmy because he's your family and your doctor, and Katie, because she just wouldn't let go till she knew.''

'' What started her askin, though?'' Coop asked, glad to have those questions settled.

'' She said she's wondered from the time you came to work for me, how you and I get on so well, as different as we are. And part of my answer to that, to you, Coop is that yes, I see a lot of your father in you. And we stayed friends for forty years, and a little more. And you
still haven't asked me what Danny thanked me for doing, with my journal.'' the Wagonmaster noted.

''Well, Chris if you say that was something between you and Daddy…'' Coop shrugged.

''More like between me and both your parents. And I have a feeling you'll like this part of the story.''

'' Okay, Chris. Let's hear it, then.'' the Texan said and gingerly leaned back, as his right side remained a tad bit tender.

'' It happened when your father took another one of his absolutely rock-hard stubborn stands. And as usual, he held it against all opposition and all comers, including mine and not a few
of his own cousins. But Danny Smith wasn't going to budge a fraction of an inch, not on
that particular issue. And I can only think he caught a fair amount of trouble afterwards, on that account. And I can't tell you his reasons, Coop, I never asked Danny and he never offered. He wrote me in the late summer of '44, when Beth…. When your mother had given birth to a son. ''

'' '44… that was me, then.''

'' Yes. And you were strong and healthy, which was grand news …''

'' They'd had some troubles, before that.'' Coop nodded. ''So, my Dad wrote you. And you came down to Raleigh, where they were stayin' with cousins.''

'' Because, from what I gather, you were in your usual hurry to get someplace, in that case, to get born. And I came down to tell my friend Danny Smith that I couldn't do what he'd asked in his letter. I fully intended to tell him he was just going to stir up a hornet's nest,
hurt the family's feelings. In fact, I was determined your father should rethink his notion; his notion that his Yankee friend Chris from Gloucester should stand up for his new born son. And this journal was the thank you gift Danny gave me, when I 'saw things his way'. So I stood up for you with your Cousin Jessamyn… And she was Jemmy's mother, is that right?''

'' Yeah, Cousin Jessy.'' Coop chuckled. '' When we were little, Jemmy and I and some of the other cousins would just make Jess go bright red, callin' him Jesse… Figure he got over that, not long after he knocked most of us silly. Chris, Daddy… asked you to do that, to be my
g-dfather and never said why he asked?"'

'' Not in my hearing, except for some generalizations about how friendships, true friendships don't and shouldn't recognize borders, politics or even the Mason-Dixon line.''

'' He said somethin' like that to me, once, when he was dyin', and we all knew Th' war was comin' over the next rise, almost.'' Coop nodded.

'' Your father was a very remarkable man, I'd even say a wise and a very good man, Coop, one I'm glad to say was my friend, my very good friend, for years. And as I said already, I see Danny in you, to a great extent.''

'' Especially the stubborn part?'' Coop asked with a dry laugh.

''At times, yes, definitely, at times.'' Chris chuckled, wondering when the younger man would get as angry as he'd expected.

''But you haven't said yet how you ever got to know … Daddy. How'd that ever happen?'' Coop asked.
'' We both were sent to a boarding school in Alexandria, when I was eleven and a half, and Danny was twelve. And I never expected to last out the year there, myself. It was all too far from home to me, and far too different. But that was what families did for the sons, whenever they could afford it. And I know I would have flunked out from sheer homesickness, if not for Danny.'' Chris answered, smiling at the memory. ''But the truth of the matter was, at first your father wasn't about to befriend a damn Yankee boy from way up in Massachusetts! Nosiree!''

'' Figure he must've changed his mind then, about you, if not about all damn Yankees.'' Coop suggested.

'' He did. He did. Danny made all the difference for me that year; he made himself my friend, my very good friend. And we kept up a fairly lively correspondence, afterwards, too. ''

'' He really liked writin' letters, Daddy did. He said his Daddy taught him it was a gentlemanly thing to do, and b'sides it got him collecting stamps.'' Coop laughed, looked at his own journal again and then back to Chris, as something else occurred to him. '' Chris, you… you did come down to Nacogdoches, didn't you, when Daddy died? I think I remember seeing you, then.''

'' I was there for not even a week's time.'' Chris nodded. '' And I stayed as much out of the way as I could, then. With everything else going on, with the election and all, that fall and that winter. The last thing I wanted was to make things harder for Beth…''

''Some of our neighbors, hell, some of our cousins would have been the ones to make things harder, not you. The hotheads, the local fire-eaters, would have made great hay about Dad's friend from New England, the dang fools! They were the same ones who thought we'd run
the Yankees out of Virginia, Kentucky, and Maryland in a month's time and then camp out
in Washington's City, roast a duck on the White House lawn that kind of thing, before we
had to come home for the next harvest.''

''And some of the boys, some of my son's friends were just as stirred up, just as naïve.''

''We were all fools, back then.'' Coop muttered. ''We had no idea! And by the time I got home, with all that, happened in the War, I was almost glad Daddy wasn't there, wasn't there to know it, to see the scare-crows we all were by then, gimpin' on home.'' Coop frowned and shook his head.

'' I don't think I've ever heard you talk about that time, before.'' The Wagonmaster said, wondering if his friend wanted to confide something more.

'' There's not much to talk about. We straggled on home. We, well, some of us had our horses. And some had their side-arms. But we truly deserved the nickname by then. We really were the 'ragged Old First'.''

''Beth and all the other mothers and wives must have been glad to see you home, no matter what you looked like.''

'' They said they were.'' Coop shrugged. '' But momma… she already knew … 'bout Jeff.
So we, I don't think we even said his name for awhile, it just hurt too much! It all hurt too
much! A lot of us came out here, out west, because we couldn't keep to home, anymore.
It was all about tryin' to be just the same, when it couldn't, ever. And we were too much changed, all cut off, and uprooted, y' know. ''

'' I think that's understandable, Coop.'' Chris offered.

''No, no it's not!'' the scout suddenly shouted, turning to Hale, his temper on the rise, as it always was when the late war came up. '' It's not anything anybody in their right mind could understand! We were all boys, just boys!

And we marched away from our homes, from our kin, from our neighbors, and we were all sure, all ready to become heroes! We thought we'd come home like … Roman conquerors! We left with parades and bands and speeches, with folks cheerin' and shoutin' for us! And we marched, and trained or took steamboats thousands of miles away. And when the music died, and the speeches stopped; and the whole parade part was done, we woke up in hell!

And the G-ds honest truth of the matter, Chris, and you know this! You know… none of the boys we were, ever really got home again, not one! Not even one! We all … All the boys who marched away, we died … thousands and thousands of miles away from their homes. And when the shootin' war finally stopped, a lot of ghosts marched back to where those boys came from. Armies of ghosts! That's what came back to Georgia, to Tennessee, to Virginia, to both the Carolinas, to Mississippi, and to Texas! And I guess, it'd only be fair and true to say more armies of ghosts was what came back to Ohio, and Maine, and Vermont and … ''

'' And Massachusetts.'' Chris nodded, sadly.

''You see? You see, you know it's… you know I'm only tellin the G-d's truth here! We died! All of us boys; and the whole, entire world we knew, it died! And for the life of me, Chris, most days now, I can't come up with why, I can't come anywhere near to what the devil it was for!''

'' Coop, if you … I don't really think you want me to answer that.''

'' There's no answer! And I can't…You said you haven't heard me talk about this; Well
now you know why! I can't be there, either! I can't go back there! I can't go back
and change what happened in the war. And I can't … I couldn't stay to home once Momma died, either. But I came home and there were folks who wanted me to stay there, I still
had family there! And I'm … I got off lucky! I came home with all four limbs intact,
not deafened, not blinded, not poisoned with dope, and not crazed, well, not so much.
And there were so many boys who came back maimed and who came back to nothin',
Chris, just to nothin'! But we'd all been 'to see the Elephant' a few thousand times by
then and we couldn't - Some days, I could hardly breathe there!''

Chris listened and watched Coop, now intently, as the younger man seemed to pull back a curtain on himself, seemed to let loose as though a dam burst. Clearly these were thoughts he'd held and held back for some time now. And just as clearly they left him shaken. But as the Wagonmaster watched and waited, the scout pulled that 'curtain' partly closed again and looked at his friend.

''Well, like I say, now you know why I don't … talk about it , all that much. I can hardly hang onto my temper once I start ridin' that direction. '' The scout shrugged. ''Figure that's the one thing I may have in common with those … folks that took me for Jess. They've got a mad on all the time, seems like and it's a lot to do with the war, and all. But, I can't and I don't want to even try keeping up that kind of ragin' and rantin'. So, that's where we're different, them and me. So, how come you're smilin' at me, when I was just yellin' my head off?''

'' I'm smiling because a week or so ago, my angry friend, you could hardly draw enough breath to whisper, much speak aloud or yell. And I'm smiling, Coop, because I was thinking about Danny, about your father, and that he'd be immeasurably proud of the things that get you so angry, these days.''

'' Mebbee. D' you think so?'' Coop asked, wondering how much there was to learn about his father from Chris Hale, and how much there was to learn about himself, as well.

'' I'm absolutely, absolutely sure.''

''Chris, you came down when Momma passed on, too.'' Coop said now, looking at the Wagonmaster, and it wasn't a question.

''Beth became my good friend, too, I'm lucky enough to say. So, yes, of course I came to say goodbye.''

'' And they asked you to be my g-dfather, instead of Cousin Frank Jess' Daddy, or Cousin Stephen, Jemmy's father, or any number of other cousins, uncles, and all that.'' Coop went on, almost to himself. '' They trusted you…with me. Maybe I should thank them. Maybe I should thank Kate, next time I see her, too.''

'' Knowing Katie, she's not likely to forget or to let me forget the 'favor' she's done us.'' Chris offered with a rueful smile. ''That woman can be genuinely incorrigible, unrelenting and obdurate at times. But don't tell her I said so, she's likely to be complimented!''

'' Hey, now, Chris,'' Coop grinned and winked at his friend, glad to change the subject. '' Can you please … I don't even know what those fancy boardin' school type of words might mean, much less how to how to say them! What's wrong?'' the scout asked when Hale shook his head.

''Nothing, except I know you went to a boarding school near Raleigh the year you were fifteen, along with some of your cousins. That's when Danny gave you your journal. So you don't have play down how bright you are, or talk down with me the way you might with Charlie Wooster, whose grasp of the English language often seems to elude him altogether. Well, now what's wrong with you, Coop?'' Chris asked as the younger man shook his head.

'' You make it sound as though I nearly went to college! But I begged off from another year
at that school and from any idea of more schoolin'! Reckon Daddy wasn't so proud just then, and maybe didn't write you about that! I never really wanted to go in the first place. That was a lot more Jemmy's idea than mine. That kind of thing just … just don't suit me!'' Coop protested.

''Coop, calm down, for the love of G-d. It's not as though I said I know you broke into a bank vault, down in east Texas somewhere, when you were six months old!'' Chris exclaimed.

'' That's b'cause that never happened 'til I was ten months old!'' Coop answered,
feeling like laughing and shouting in exasperation, at the same time. ''Y' see, in Texas,
we don't start robbin' banks till we can sleep the night through and eat solid food; so
we're less trouble to th' jailers, should we get caught! Reckon you go to it earlier in
up in Massachusetts, though, cos you're all so danged previous up there, anyhow!''

''Precocious, I think, is the word you're tripping over there. And besides, wasn't that next year when Danny became ill?'' Chris asked. '' So you wouldn't have wanted to be away from home, for any reason.''

'' Surely not a few hundred miles away, no. The year before, though he put his foot down. Guess you know what happened when he did that.''

'' All sorts of things that should have been impossible to say the least.'' Chris nodded.
'' Like a Gloucesterman coming to Raleigh to become a g-dfather. You have your father's strong will, and in good measure, my friend. And I know Danny taught you when to apply it, and when to let things be.''

'' So, my stubborn streak, the one that's wide as the Rio Grande I get from Daddy. Anything else?'' Coop asked, finding himself more and more curious.

'' Well, I'm more sure, the longer I know you, Coop that you have both Danny's long, slow burning tendency to outrage over injustices and wrongs, and Beth's quicker, more transitory, rightful wrath over pretty much the same kind of things. And from Danny, I believe you also got your keen judgments about people. He never suffered fools gladly, either.

Added to that, I don't think too many men your age actively keep a journal these days, the way you do. That's Beth's influence I think, she was a genuine bookworm, and an avaricious reader. And I don't need to tell you that you have your mother's way with sick children, broken-winged birds and wild horses.''

'' Panicky foals and broody mares, too, when I get the chance.'' Coop smiled. '' Chris, don't take this the wrong way, alright. But, it occurs to me to ask, if Kate hadn't kept at you, or
I hadn't got bunged up, how long would you have waited to let me know about this?''

'' I'm not sure, Coop. Each of those two things alone would normally be a persuasive motivation. When the one came galloping in on the tail of the other, the way Gambler
came into the camp that night, I knew I had to take the next chance I got to tell you. And enough of this, for now. your right side's flaring up again. I'll get more compresses and hot water. And maybe when we get this under control again you'll tell me what panicked you before.''

'' Panicked? Nothing. I'm not sure I'd call it panicking, anyway. I just don't like pain meds.'' Coop frowned, his side was hurting again. And he didn't want to pursue the topic Chris opened. ''druther do without, as and when I can. Just don't like 'em. Never did.
Momma didn't much like 'em either. She'd use things from her herb garden or the little
woods behind Granddaddy's house instead of pills and powders. You'd know that, too, right?''

'' Yes, I know how gifted Beth was with such things. And she taught you a few things about what to put in a poultice or with a bag of camphor, or in a cup of tea as and when needed.
I've seen you use that knowledge. But she didn't necessarily avoid other kinds of medicine.
And you're not going to talk about this, right now, are you?'' Hale sighed seeing the stubborn set of Coop's jaw, neck and shoulders.

'' You know me pretty darn well, by this time, Chris. What do you think?'' Coop asked, feeling out of sorts again and perfectly willing to match wills with his friend and g-dfather.

''I think I'd better get these compresses going. Try not to shift around too much, while I do that, alright, Coop?'' the Wagonmaster, well aware of the intractable nature of the younger man, let his questions slide, for now.

''Sure.'' Coop nodded, content with his small victory, for now. Thing about small victories, sometimes you just had to take the small ones, piling each one on the others, until you finally had a decent sized hill to crow from, he considered. It was nothing any former Confederate hadn't learned to do almost as an art form by '65. On the other hand there was no one the scout knew who could wait out a stubborn 'opponent' of one kind or another, longer and more patiently than Chris Hale could. It was just something in his danged Yankee nature, the Texan speculated. A lot of these Yankees, reasonable as they were most times, soon or late hit on a spot, a plan or an idea they just wouldn't budge from.
The best example Coop knew of this troublesome Yankee trait in practice, was his cousin Jemmy's present' 'employer', Ulysses Simpson Grant. Faced with horrific losses that would and did send his predecessors back across the Rapidan, the Rappahannock and the Potomac, time and again, then General Grant just sat down, and wrote his dispatches, including, according to the famous story, one to the War Department, stating Grant's intention ' to fight it out along this line, if it takes all summer'. Then he started his troops marching south, instead of north, keeping that direction until they got to Appomattox! Danged stubborn Yankees, anyway!

Chris, true to his word was back as quickly as possible, with a pair of orderlies, more towels and more hot water. Coop thought about making some excuse to delay this process, and knew that wouldn't work for an instant. He thought about trying to get Chris to throw a haymaker, right at Coop's jaw, sending the scout unconscious. The Wagonmaster wasn't much for fisticuffs, either.

What these compresses were already starting to do was relieve the pain in Coop's right side enough to let him get more sleep, trying to rebuild his reserves devoured by fever. What Coop most didn't want to do right now was fall asleep. The dreams he'd been having since his fever broke were, maybe because they were much more clear in some ways, much dimmer in others, far more disturbing.
But Coop wasn't ready to discuss them with Chris or Jemmy, or with his own thoughts, either.
So, Coop chose to sit quietly, acting passive and pretty much innocuous, while the pain and tension in his side began to ease, while he began to be sleepy again. These were only dreams, after all. He'd just ride them out. He'd just stop worrying at them like a dog with an old hunting boot. They were only dreams, after all. Only dreams. Sure.
And he was a full grown, entirely rational man. He wasn't one to be afraid of much in the world around him, and surely not of these vivid, disjointed, nonsensical dreams. The time to worry, some more wakeful part of his brain told Coop, is when these dreams tried to make sense; and even more so, when they became sensible. So, you don't need to worry, yet. There's still time for these unwanted, inexplicable dreams to just fade, as you get better. That's it, they're just going to fade away… soon. They're just dreams.

He was back face down in the shallow stream branching off the North Platte …and anywhere he didn't ache he was burning up, shaking with chills. A lot of somethings seemed to be touching him that he could just barely feel, now.
He had no more strength, and less and less will . He was losing… something. He was losing, letting go; something strange and close around him and suffocating was taking over his frame. Something sharp and bitter as his worst, his darkest dreams, was wrapping itself around each of his senses.
A freezing fog from G-d alone knew what or where was settling on his mind, on his thoughts, and somehow on his breathing, And its nature, it's sharpness and it's destructive hold were all things he knew, or things he might have known, recognized or recollected, from somewhere, eons ago It was shortening each breath, and whatever it's source, he only knew it could surely, easily destroy him.
Only that sharpness remained, touching to screaming, frantic, conversely paralyzing, panicked life every fiery nerve, for an endless succession of tortured breaths.. It was killing him and he couldn't move a muscle against it. all but numb now, should have been relief from pain shooting through his ribcage, his limbs, his back and neck. It wasn't. In fact, it terrified…

''Coop! Coop, wake up, now! Coop, wake up! It's just a nightmare. Wake up, and look at me. You're just having a nightmare. '' Chris Hale was urging him to believe, to prove, to open his eyes, and…
Coop's eyes flew open wide and he stared at Hale for a moment, gasping for air, as if he'd been drowning. So much for a hill made of small victories to climb and crow from. The Texan shook his head, looking away and down, grimacing at the admission.

'' Nope. It's a memory, not just a nightmare. When I was down … when I couldn't move to save my soul. That's when they drugged me, Chris. That's when I felt their damned needles, and heard the syringes, clinking against each other. And I hadn't heard that sound since…
the war. But I knew it. And I couldn't move as much as quarter of inch, by then. I didn't…
I didn't want it to be true, it scares th' bejeezus out of me, in fact. m' sorry, Chris, I lied, b'fore. The bastards drugged me.''

''Well, then, there's just one more reason not a single one of those cowards had best ever come up in my rifle sights.'' Chris growled.

''They'd never stand a chance, if they did, Chris. Ever.'' Coop grinned tiredly. Time was he would have turned away or pushed away the idea of being safeguarded. Now, now he had a
g-dfather. And Coop suspected that was just one of the things they couldn't help but do, when and as needed.

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