The man poked him in the chest again. Harder this time.
The other troops stood by, ready to beat Will to a pulp if he stupidly rose to the bait, giving these bluebellies a reason to haul him off to a judge that would either lock him up or hang him.
So instead of smashing the sergeant’s face with a hard right hand, Will simply smiled. “You don’t seem to understand, friend. I don’t own this place. Miss Dunne does. Check the deed. Just like she owns all the cattle we rounded up for her. And her father wore the blue. Died wearing it. With valor. You boys gonna rob the daughter of a brave Union soldier? An officer, no less? Sounds to me like you’re fixing to get yourselves court-martialed. Maybe even hung, considering Mr. Dunne’s friends in Washington.”
Will didn’t know if Mr. Dunne had had any friends in the North, but the rest of it was true enough, and it instantly had the intended effect.
The cocky sergeant backed down, looking worried. Then he turned his back on Will, grumbling for the other men to make sure Will didn’t try anything before the captain came out.
A moment later, the farmhouse door opened, and through it strode a tall, gaunt bluebelly captain, the man who would decide Will Bentley’s fate.
CHAPTER 33
Unlike these others, the officer looked like a real soldier.
He bowed politely to Mama, Maggie, and Rose, who appeared in the doorway now, looking surprisingly unruffled.
“I do thank you for the tea and conversation, Mrs. Bentley,” the captain said. “And I thank you for the hospitality, Miss Dunne.”
Will felt a thrill of admiration for his young wife, who’d been shrewd enough to hide their marriage from this man and his soldiers.
In Reconstruction Era Texas, nothing good could come of being married to Will Bentley.
Marvelously continuing the act, Maggie said, “Why, Captain Culp, here is Mr. Bentley now.”
The officer swiveled, looked Will over, then excused himself politely, and came toward Will, walking in that strangely awkward, bowlegged way old cavalrymen so often did after years of never going on foot when there was a horse to ride.
“Will Bentley?” Culp said, studying his face.
“Yes, sir.”
The captain surprised him then, sticking out his hand. “I’m Captain Alexander Culp, and I’d like to speak with you.”
“Yes, sir,” Will said, shaking the man’s hand.
“Walk with me, son.”
Will did as he was told.
The tough-looking soldier started to follow, but Culp dismissed him at once. “Sergeant Garrity, have these men police the area. I don’t want any damage or trash left behind. These are good women here, and we will respect them and their property.”
The big sergeant saluted his officer and started barking at the other soldiers.
“Now,” Culp said to Will. “Let’s talk.”
“Yes, sir,” Will said again, and they walked away from the others, Will listening, fury building within him as Culp explained why he was here.
The fury was not directed at Culp, who seemed like a reasonable man, but at the story he related.
“Sully Weatherspoon came to my office yesterday with quite a tale to tell,” Culp said. “He said that he stopped to visit, and your mother, sister, and Miss Dunne threatened his life.”
“Sir, Sully Weatherspoon has no business here.”
“I understand that after speaking to your people, Mr. Bentley. Just between you and me, I have to say I enjoyed my conversation with them much more than my conversation with Sully Weatherspoon.”
“Sully is a difficult person, sir.”
Culp smiled faintly. “Yes, difficult. That is a diplomatic way to put it. While I congratulate you on your restraint, Mr. Bentley, I would ask that you speak openly with me now. That’s why we’re alone. I am new at this post, but I am determined to do my duty and further the mission, which is to stabilize the region, restore order, and deal with any problems that arise. I have no interest in getting rich along the way, and I have no old scores to settle. Imerely wish to do my duty. Therefore, I need to know the truth. So I’ll say it again, Mr. Bentley. Please speak openly with me.”
