Comes a Hero (Book 17 of Brides of the West Series) Read online

  Comes a Hero

  Rita Hestand

  Comes a Hero

  Book Seventeen of the Brides of the West Series

  Rita Hestand

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright© 2018 by Rita Hestand

  All Rights Reserved

  Ebook ISBN # 9781370796755

  Cover Design: Sheri McGathy

  License Note

  This book, Comes a Hero is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be copied or reproduced in any manner without express written permission of the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy or copies. If you did not purchase this book or it was not purchased for your use, please go to Smashwords.com to purchase your personal copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Comes a Hero is a work of fiction. Though some of the cities and towns exist they are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. All characters are works of fiction and any names or characteristics like any person past, present or future are coincidental.

  Dedication:

  Heroes are made by the actions of men and women who stand up for what they believe. Right or wrong, they are what makes history. Our country is full of history and heroes. I hope you are one of them…

  God Bless

  Rita Hestand

  Books in this Series

  Heart of a Family

  Delivering the Bride

  Heart of a Woman

  Wanted Bride

  This Side of Forever

  Shotgun Bride

  Love as Big as Texas

  Heart of a Captive

  Wherever my Heart Roams

  In the Arms of an Angel

  Bride of Shenandoah

  Falling for the Bride

  Unexpected Welcome

  Desperado's Bride

  The Filly & the Gambler

  The Lady Train

  Comes a Hero

  An Unescorted Lady

  And Here I'll Stay

  Table of Content

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  About the Author

  Rita's Other Books

  Fort Davis, West Texas

  January 1861

  Chapter One

  "Is it over, sir?" One of the young recruits asked, his hand shaking, as blood dripped from his saber. His eyes held the pain inside, as he tried to be strong. A tear fell on one cheek, as his chin shook. An Indian lay dead at his feet, his voice quivered with exhaustive fear.

  Dust stirred the cool Texas air. A mockingbird sang in an old cottonwood tree by a small running creek in the distance. It was a lonely sound as only his little voice echoed in the meadow then it went silent again.

  It was the dead of winter; the ground was cold and dead as the soldiers that lay at their feet and anyone walking on it made a crunching sound. The air was filled with the acrid remains of gun powder and smoke.

  "Yes, private Collins, it's over."

  The young recruit holstered his sword.

  Quirt Noble stood in the blood-soaked middle of a Texas meadow, with ten of the top enlisted men around him. Their guns and sabers waving in the air, their bodies weary from fighting, some on their knees, others barely able to stand, and the light of day dawned slowly. The only reaction in Quirt's face was a quiver in his jaw. His eyes filled with a sadness that reached the pit of his belly. Already, the stench of death reeked about them. The absolute silence after such a battle haunted. Buzzards circled the sky above them, waiting.

  "Damned buzzards," one of the men hollered waving his hat in the air, as though that might deter them.

  The men looked around them now, their faces frozen in agony, their fellow soldiers lay dead at their feet. Wide eyed recruits stared at Quirt for leadership.

  Quirt was the scout of the Second Regiment, not their leader. Their leader, Major Horace Wiley lay dead at Quirt's feet. His eyes open, his soul had long since escaped.

  One of the young men looked at Quirt, "The Major is dead, what do we do now?" He asked innocently as he swallowed pure bile with disgust.

  Quirt glanced at him and holstered his gun, then his gaze swept the field of men lying dead. The reality of what had happened in the last hour dawned. With a long exhaustive sigh, Quirt looked at the men. "We head back to the fort." His voice echoed with the death around them.

  "Yes sir," The young Corporal replied. "But aren't we going to bury them sir?"

  "Not now, they'll send a detail out for that."

  The private nodded with a frown. Quirt certainly hoped he wouldn't ask any more questions. They needed to leave, and now before the Indians decided to come back for them.

  Quirt shook his head; how could anyone call this a victory?

  It wasn't a victory march now, and with the civil war about to announce itself, the Indians were a mere added concern, but nonetheless a heavy concern, a real concern. Problem was Washington had refused to see the Indians as a real threat. So far removed from the truth, they were blind to their victories on the frontier of Texas.

  Quirt had been a scout for the army for the past five years. He'd seen death many times, but the young recruits with him today felt suddenly lost as the commander on the battlefield lay dead with two arrows in his chest and one in his back.

  The young surviving men, moved slowly about, as if just now realizing what had happened here. It was for some, their first battle, an awakening to manhood.

  The weariness of the men pronounced itself in the way they sat their saddles, with heads bent, shoulders shrugged, as they tried to breathe life back into their souls.

  The ride back to the fort was silent, soldiers weary from a battle that still echoed in their hearts and minds, some of them were severely wounded, others near death themselves. Quirt couldn't look at them. They'd fought so bravely today. He'd never been prouder, and yet they'd lost this battle in some ways and if the civil war broke out, they'd lose many more. Right now, the prospect of life didn't look any better than the sureness of death.

  As they reached the fort, someone opened the gate and they rode inside, silently. No one said a word, they just rode with blank expressions.

  The fort was in complete disarray as confusion abounded. Soldiers were running around in a stir.

  The young recruits lifted their heads as though just now realizing they were back.

  Quirt looked around the grounds as soldiers scrambled about sort of blindly, as though they weren't sure what they were doing. This wasn't normal. Quirt knew it. "What's going on Sergeant Powell?"

  Quirt saw the Sergeant talking to a private and rode right up to them.

  "War Quirt." The Sergeant glanced at the battle-weary troops. "At least we've been informed the south has gathered an army. Looks like some of us will evacuate the fort here."

  "Evacuate?" Quirt frowned. "With the Indians on the uprise?"

  "'Fr
aid so, got orders from the top brass in Washington…Lieutenant Colonel Seawell is preparing to move north sir, under orders. But I reckon Colonel Johnson could tell you more. He's in his office."

  "I see, and how many will go with him?" Quirt asked in an off-handed way.

  "I'm not sure sir, but most of the Eight Infantry will go with him, is what I'm told."

  "You're not serious?" Quirt shot him a reproving glance. A cold stillness ran through Quirt's heart. He'd just fought and won a serious battle with the Comanches, and he knew there would be more to come as they were boldly raiding into the Apache territories. Now the men here were leaving, and the Indians were going nowhere. How could there be victory one moment, and abandonment the next? Quirt counted it a victory because he still had men standing and the Indians retreated.

  Quirt felt rebellion surging through his body. How could they think of deserting the fort? Many homesteaders depended on the army to keep them safe, if they left, what would happen? He knew what would happen. But the army wasn't taking the Indians serious any longer. No, the big war was coming.

  "But there are settlers in the area, civilians, they'll be killed if we abandon the fort. We were nearly wiped out ourselves just now." Quirt frowned, as though he couldn't quite contemplate an all-out abandonment. He hadn't put a lot of stock in the civil war breaking out, figuring that both sides would know it would be a hell of a fight and come to their senses.

  But that was just it, both sides figured it would only last a month, or so, no longer. Were they blind to their own pride and egos? Being a native Texan, Quirt knew what pride was, and right now he suspicioned that pride alone would lead them into this war, blindly. He never agreed with Slavery, but he was Texan. Like Sam Houston he hadn't wanted Texas to secede either. It was an unpopular opinion, but Quirt held with Houston's theories.

  "Talk to Colonel Johnson…." The Sergeant told him.

  "Yeah, I'll do that." Quirt shook his head and moved his horse to the hitching post in front of the headquarters. He slid off his horse, realizing he had a few wounds himself that needed taking care of.

  Colonel Johnson was glad to see Quirt. Johnson was a middle-aged man, with red graying hair, and brown piercing eyes. He had a full beard and looked quite distinguished on top a horse. In his office, he looked like a veteran officer of many wars.

  "Well, I'm glad to see some of you made it back from the skirmish with the Comanche." Then seeing Quirt's face, he added…"And Major Dowd?"

  "Dead sir."

  The Colonel stood motionless for a second. "I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping to put him in charge. He's the highest-ranking southern officer here. I guess you've heard the news, we are to abandon the fort, at least all the ones from the north that want to go." The Colonel poured him a drink, but Quirt refused it. "It's not official yet, but they expect some action soon."

  "What kind of action, where?" Quirt's mind scrambled for a picture.

  "The largest gathering of southern troops is at Ft. Sumter, South Carolina. They figure that's where it will start."

  "That's where you are from, isn't it?"

  "Yes, it is." He stared at Quirt.

  "Strange I figured if it started at all, it would be in Virginia. I'll never understand the need of it."

  "No one understands why wars happen, except maybe the top brass. Some of them want this war. The rest of us are puppets. Oh yes, I forgot, you don't drink, do you?"

  "No sir." He narrowed his gaze on the immaculate soldier before him, pouring himself a generous swig of whiskey from a fancy decanter. "I just heard, but you do realize this will leave settlers to fend for themselves here against the Indians. With the Comanche raiding the Apache territory we could have an even bigger war if they decide to join forces. It could mean a massacre." Quirt defended.

  "Can't be helped Quirt. David Twiggs, from the department of Texas has ordered Unionist to form a march from Forts Bliss, Quitman, Davis, Lancaster and Hudson to gather at Fort Stockton, Fort Clark, Camp Cooper and San Antonio are our projected meeting points to leave Texas immediately. He will be surrendering all Federal Texas posts to agents of the session convention."

  "Does he have any idea how brutal a blow this could be to the people of Texas? It will leave the forts almost bare of protection from the Indians." Quirt almost yelled. "And right now, the Indians are our problem."

  "I understand it, but they don't. You know as well as I do that Washington has never given the Indians much consideration here in Texas. They are too far removed from this kind of war. I'm afraid that right now, the Indians are not a concern. The big war is coming Quirt and it's time to assemble our armies."

  "And you will just leave us defenseless?

  "I know. And I really feel bad about leaving this post. I've already had words with Peters, the Assistant Surgeon. He's been raising hell all over the fort. There is little choice. This is a different war. And I fear it will be a huge war, that none of us are ready to deal with, but we must."

  Quirt flopped down in the chair again with a resigned sigh. He'd fought a battle and lost his commanding officer. He didn't feel like talking about the war between the states. That's all Johnson ever talked about. He felt estranged from this coming war. He wanted no part of the big war.

  "But I have some troubling news for you my friend, aside from that. I think you better hear this now."

  Quirt shot him a quick frown. "Just what I need."

  "You need a drink son."

  "Unless it's good news, I'm not at all sure I want to hear it." He sighed heavily. The Colonel gazed out the window behind his desk now at the men scurrying about like chickens with their heads cut off. Some just didn't know what to do any longer. The Colonel's face registered a pride in his command here, and a sadness at leaving it.

  "Alright, what's the news, sir?" Quirt studied the Colonel who stood about five inches shorter, two inches broader, sporting a bright head of red hair and a rough looking beard. The Colonel was a colorful man, and he had the battle scars to prove it.

  "You won't be going with us, Quirt. Naturally, you are a Texan and I'm sure you'll probably enlist in the Confederate army, so you'll stay here. You and the rest of the Texans here. You have seniority over them, so you will be left in charge of what troops stay. Seventy-five of us will be heading for Leavenworth eventually, ones with allegiance to the south will be sent notice where they can sign up for the Confederacy. I myself have been pulled to register enlisted men in the war between the states in San Antonio. I'll be taking my men with me. By my men, the men with allegiance to the north. We are under orders to evacuate as soon as possible. War has not been declared yet, but it is imminent. The north wants its troops pulled from the south immediately. I'm not sure how long it will take for the south to assemble theirs. We must be prepared for the inevitable. It will be utter chaos to wait until the last minute to leave."

  Quirt's mouth fell open. "It can't be prolonged?"

  "No, I'm sorry. I have my orders and must carry them out or resign. And yes, I realize the position this puts you in. I am sorry, I've been here for four years now and I do have roots here. But I'm an officer and must do what is expected of me. As everyone else, I must follow orders."

  Quirt stood and moved the curtain away, so he could see outside now, "The men, they are in shock, no one seems to know what that means. They are like ants, scattering all over the place. Look at them Colonel. Their facial expressions say it all. A lot of them don't want war, they've been fighting Indians so long, another war isn't going to make them feel any better. It'll be that way all over the state, we've been fighting a war, even though Washington doesn't acknowledge it."

  Johnson stared at him.

  "Son, I know you've been through a lot lately. But, it's quite astounding news. Some are still stunned, although we've all been considering it for some time, I don't think any of us realized what it would mean. I guess you could say we are quite astounded that there really will be a war. A lot of us thought maybe Lincoln and the others in Washi
ngton could work it out. The issue of slavery is not something he's willing to negotiate, even for the south. Some blame Lincoln for this coming war."

  "I thought politicians were supposed to negotiate!" Quirt shook his head.

  "Yes, but they aren't budging on this one, son."

  Quirt nodded and sat down once more as the Colonel poured Quirt a glass of water. Quirt watched him, knowing there was more news to come. He waited for whatever news he had to give him. "Is that the news?"

  "No, no I'm afraid not." The Colonel's brows drew together, and he looked Quirt in the eye now. He seemed to think on his next words for a moment.

  "Unfortunately, this is all pretty bad timing for us here. Major Marcy and his son-in-law McClellan have already positioned themselves in the Union Army. That book he wrote got him a lot of attention. He'll be famous before this war is over, mark my words on it. But as for us, well, I'm afraid I leave you with a burden here. You see, a train carrying thirty widows of Texas army officers is headed here. They should arrive in Ft. Worth within the week. This was planned some time ago, to appease the families of the fallen in battle. Orders from Washington. You see, most of them never got proof of their deaths, and no bodies to bury. Many of the wives wrote the President about it. Washington of course wanted to do the right thing, and in ordinary times, it would have been. But now…."

  "Widows?" Quirt paused thinking about the word for a minute. "Women?" Quirt's face screwed up. "They are sending women here, with the Indians attacking us?"

  "Yes, as you see in this skirmish you just got back from, we've lost a lot of officers. These women's husbands were killed on the Texas frontier protecting the forts of Texas, they were to meet here and then been taken to the respective forts. It's too late to stop them from coming. It will be impossible considering the Indian uprisings to send them anywhere. And I can assure you, Washington will be in a stir. The bad news is, they'll all remain here. With the Indians attacking now, and the officers leaving, I can only manage to leave a skeleton crew of ten men and you to see to them until the Confederate army can arrange something better."