Page 33 of Head Room
“Find what you can dig with.Get these people buried,” he said to the ones right around him.
Peter responded immediately and several joined him.
Ransom didn’t regret giving them a task, but when he turned to find the major watching him with more attention than he would have liked, he could have wished it went unnoticed.
“A number of these men call you sir,” Brand said, looking down from his saddle.
“Old Carolina habit — respect for an elder.”
“Can’t see as you’re much older than most of ’em.”
“In Carolina, the courtesy’s spread right liberally,” he said, deliberately lengthening his drawl.
The major looked him over for a disconcertingly long time, then shifted his unyielding gray gaze to the scene before them, the cold, displaced men moving among smoldering ruins of lives cut short.“You’re not in Carolina anymore, and I’d suggest you remind your men of that.”
Yourmen.Ransom didn’t like that.Cut too close to the bone of truth.
But Brand wasn’t dwelling on that aspect as he went on.
“You’re a damned long way from Carolina.You’re a damned long way from the life you’ve known.And from the war you’ve known.”
Ransom was saved from answering by Captain Reigert, who rushed up to Brand with a pair of civilians on horseback.
“Major Brand, sir!These gentlemen say they know the people who lived here.”
The younger of two rough looking men took off his soft, wide-brimmed hat, but the gray-bearded one gave no sign of respect to Brand or anyone else.
“What’re your names?”
“Gallen.My son and me run the next road ranch west,” the older man said.
“Did you have any trouble?”
“No.We had an Army patrol stopping at our place the night this must’ve started.Next morning, after they headed west, my wife was up the hill and saw the smoke.She came runnin’ back, and we’ve stayed set, with our guns at the ready, until we seen your riders along the ridge couple hours back.”
“You knew these people.”
“Yeah.Dick Gregson was his name.Wasn’t real popular with the Injuns.”The older Gallen spit.“Wasn’t real popular with whites, neither.He was a nasty drunk and he was most always drunk.”
“Did you...Did you find anyone else?”the son asked.
“Two little girls.”
“Yes— Mary and Sally.They were Gregson’s daughters.”
“We’ll see they’re buried.Put the names on the boards,” Reigert said.
“And...”The young man swallowed and tried again.“Maggie?”
Brand’s attention sharpened.“Maggie?”
The father frowned at his son.“Gregson’s wife.”
“Only because she was forced by the old—”
“Shut up, Matt.”
The son wouldn’t be quieted, and Ransom saw a flare of hope come into his eyes.“You didn’t find Maggie?No more than nineteen.Pretty.Red hair, blue eyes.She’s not here?She’s not—?”
