The Gila Wars Read Online Free PDF Page B

little more than a year earlier.
    At this age, and with his experience, being able to rise up in the chain of command came just a little easier to him, especially when it came to dealing with some of the boys, none of whom he had known before becoming a Ranger. He didn’t consider them friends, like he did Elliot.
    â€œLet’s go, Elliot. Like the captain said, ‘Daylight’s burning.’ Taking slow measures won’t cause him to change his mind about this outing. The sooner we go, the sooner we get on with it. There’s a battle waiting. You have to know that.”
    â€œIt can’t come soon enough,” Scrap said. “Not soon enough.”

CHAPTER 4

    The sun was fully up over the horizon, a white-hot orb rising into the pale sky on a well-traveled path, offering little mystery to its intentions. The day would be hot and cloudless, just like the string of days before it.
    Josiah and Scrap were both mounted on their horses, ready to go, but a stir of noise, a wave of notice, flowed over the camp, and caught their attention. Voices grew louder. A few men cheered. And there was a rush of arms and legs, a return to the captain’s tent, by all of the men from the company. Knowing they were losing sunlight, and under strict orders from Captain McNelly to depart, Josiah hesitated, then decided to investigate, and see what all the hubbub was about.
    Atop Clipper, it was easy to discern if there was a conflict, a reason to draw arms, or a celebration. It was clear there was no threat to the camp. Instead, the mail rider had made his way through the watch ring, set on delivering news from home, or wherever, to men lucky enough to know how to read or write, and to have a letter for them under the rider’s charge.
    Losing minutes in order to see if there was anything for him didn’t seem to matter to Josiah now. He hoped for word about his son, Lyle. Anything concerning the boy would lighten his mood, making the coming days easier to face. The comfort that all was well in Austin, at home, would be a welcome relief from the hidden worry that Josiah carried with him every minute he was away from the boy.
    The mail rider was a young man in his early twenties. His smooth face, and all of his clothes, were covered with a thick layer of dust, but cleaning up was not his first concern. He jumped from his horse and started digging in his satchel, pulling out a handful of letters, with little care to their fragility, as a mass of men crowded around him.
    â€œAnson. Wilson. Franks.” The mail rider held up three letters, tapping his toe.
    The company had gathered at the front of the tent just like they had when Robinson carted Rafael Salinas into the camp. Only this time, there was no sign of McNelly. Or Robinson for that matter. Just a collection of the boys, all as eager and impatient as Josiah for news from the outside world.
    Next to Josiah, Scrap sat stiffly on Missy, staring off in the opposite direction from the mail rider, a hard look of disappointment already chiseled on his face. But he said nothing, didn’t object to the delay in leaving. He was clearly giving Josiah room and acknowledgment of his need to know if there was a letter for him or not.
    They both knew
some
news couldn’t wait two or three days. Josiah had been called home from duty before because Lyle had taken ill, and if necessary, he would leave the company again. Orders or no orders. Lyle came first.
    The rider spouted off another string of names, and every man ran up to him like he was passing out Christmas presents. Josiah was starting to think there was nothing for him, when the rider finally shouted out his name. “Wolfe!”
    Josiah slid off the saddle easily, pushed through the crowd gingerly, and retrieved his letter. The mail rider handed it to him without hesitation, then went back to digging in the mail satchel.
    The letter was heavy, more than one page, and there was no question who the sender