Wild Desire

A lieutenant came into the room carrying a tray on which sat a steaming pot of coffee and two mugs. After Alfred scooted several strewn papers and journals aside, to make room for the tray, the lieutenant placed it on Alfred’s desk and left again without having acknowledged Damon’s presence.

Damon knew that no one at the fort liked seeing him come. He was a reminder of how little they had achieved against the Navaho. No one liked being reminded of their shortcomings, not even a worthless agent, and an even more useless colonel.

“Coffee?” Alfred said, pouring.

“This ain’t no damn social call,” Damon spat. He went to the desk and leaned on it with his hands. “I’ve come to lodge another complaint against the damn Navaho. Are you ready to listen, or do I have to wait until you’ve emptied that full pot of coffee?”

Alfred looked up at Damon. “You’re close to bein’ insulting,” he said, frowning. “Now, if you can’t be civil, I’d advise you to get your carcass outta here. I ain’t paid to listen to your bellyachin’ week in and week out.”

“Are you paid to take care of problems with Injuns, or ain’t you?” Damon said. “Or do I have to go and send a wire to Washington and inform them that you’re a lowdown, worthless son of a bitch?”

“Damon, I’ve taken about all I can from you,” Alfred said. He rose slowly from the chair, his face red with anger. “Now speak your mind, or damn it, get out, and . . . I don’t give a damn if you send a wire to the president. I’ve decided to take my leave, anyhow, and be an agent somewhere else, where I don’t have the likes of you jumpin’ my ass over something you’ve cooked up between you and the Navaho.”

“Do you call horse thievin’ somethin’ to be tolerated?” Damon hissed. “If so, since when do Indians get to steal from a white man without payin’ for it at the end of a hangman’s noose?”

“Which Indians?” Alfred said, easing back down in the chair, sighing impatiently.

“The Navaho, that’s who.”

“Names. I need names.”

“Runner. Sage. Thunder Hawk.”

Alfred’s jaw tightened. “Do you have any proof?” he asked. “You display an almost sadistic streak of cruelty where the Navaho are concerned. You’re always talking about ways to even a score with this man or that. So do you think I take you seriously now?”

“My word. Ain’t that proof enough?”

Alfred laughed sarcastically. “Your word be damned.”

“Are you sayin’ you won’t take my word and that the thieving savages are going to be allowed to get away with this?” He turned around and started walking toward the door. “I guess I’ll go and see what Colonel Utley has to say about this,” he tossed over his shoulder.

“You plan to see him today?” Alfred said, chuckling.

“Sure do.” Damon took hold of the doorknob.

“Then have a pleasant ride to Washington,” Alfred said. His eyes danced when Damon turned to stare blankly at him. “But I must warn you. Everyone is aware of your prejudice out here.”

“He’s in Washington?”

“Yep. Left awhile back. But I’m sure he’d make time for you if you took your complaint to Washington.”

Damon stamped over to the desk. He leaned across it and grabbed Alfred by the throat. “It’s a good thing you’re plannin’ on leavin’ the Arizona Territory,” he said with a feral snarl.

Alfred’s face grew beet red and his eyes were wild. Damon released him and left the office in a fury.

The only thing left for him to do was to speed up the plan that Adam wanted to set into motion to ruin Sage. If tricking the Navaho was his only recourse now, then so be it.

The sun was showing its full, round face just over the mountains when Runner and Stephanie arrived back at the train. Stephanie slid out of her saddle and tethered her horse to the hitching rail, then went to Runner.

“Must you go?” Stephanie asked, begging up at him with her wide, smoky-gray eyes. “If you’d stay, we could share breakfast and coffee, get some rest, go out later today to take some photographs. We could make an entire day of it, Runner. Please stay?”

“I need to go and see if my father made it safely back to the village with the horses,” Runner said. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of his village, then turned to gaze down at Stephanie again. “I feel guilty for having left him last night, but he had many braves to help with the horses.”

“There is such a strong loyalty between you, isn’t there?” Stephanie said. “I admire that in sons and fathers.”

She looked toward Adam’s private car. “I know that Adam wishes his true father were alive,” she said softly. Then she looked up at Runner again. “Except for Adam getting on my father’s nerves now and then, Adam and my father get along well enough. But as far as loyalties go? I’m not sure if Adam could feel that strong a bond with anyone.”

“He seems genuinely concerned over your welfare,” Runner said, stroking his stallion’s mane. “In that there is a loyalty, as though you were his true sister, would you not say?”