Two Guns Across Texas : Historical Tales of the Texas Rangers by Victor M. Alvarez

Author:Victor M. Alvarez [Alvarez, Victor M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2022-09-08T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

FORT BROWN AND

THE SOFT PROBE

It was around midnight as he made his slow way to the livery stables.

With his saddlebags draped over his left shoulder, rifle in hand, John Slade wasn’t too happy about riding in the depth of night. Besides, he hadn’t slept in the last eighteen hours. However, with this new mission, he was too excited to close his eyes. Sleep would have to be taken in the saddle.

With the night air cool and crisp on his face, cool enough that he almost needed to break out his duster, he spotted the stable on the other end of town. Down the middle of the street, he made his way and just before he stepped up to the stables entrance he stopped as he heard hushed talking and saw the glow of cigarettes from inside.

Seems someone else wasn’t sleeping tonight.

He continued on his way.

Arriving at the open doors, he glimpsed shadows of a group of men sitting on the wooden floor in a dark corner, speaking in low tones. Just as he stepped in, a shadow appeared to his left.

The voices abruptly stopped.

“You want something stranger?” the shadow asked. Just as Slade turned toward the sound of the voice, he heard the unmistakable ratchet of a gun’s hammer being cocked.

Slade couldn’t see the man behind the shadow. These were well-trained soldiers; They had posted a lookout. “Looking for Jacob Rose,” Slade answered.

“Who’s doing the lookin’?” a soft-spoken Southern drawl asked from somewhere in the shadows.

“The names Slade, John Slade.”

A figure loomed up in the darkness and approached the young, physically imposing six-footer. “So, you’re Slade. Been expecting you.”

It was the voice with the Southern drawl. “I’m Lieutenant Rose,” he said, slowly making his way toward Slade through the near darkness.

As Jacob Rose stepped out of the gloom, someone lit a lantern in a far corner, illuminating the lieutenant and Slade in its glow. Out of the edge of his left eye, Slade spied four men rising from their positions, all wearing the Confederate States of America uniforms.

Gazing back at Rose, he let his eyes linger on the man as he came to a halt a few feet in front of him. Rose was short, not over five feet nine, and skinny, with long black hair just touching his shoulders. He sported a half-grown beard and mustache, and he too wore the Confederate uniform. His face was the color of burnt leather, with wrinkles and dark bags under his eyes which were a clear ocean blue as he squinted at Slade.

Glancing furtively around the stables, Slade quickly saw his horse, and made sure no one else was with them. Placing his saddlebags down and laying his rifle on them, they smiled and shook hands.

Rose motioned Slade toward the back of the stables. “Come on over and let me introduce you to the rest of the men: on your left is Sergeant Dan Shipley.

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