His stomach rumbled loudly. He had only coffee to sustain him and even that supply was almost done. Sighing, he finished the remnants out of the tin cup and gazed into the depths of the tiny campfire.
Memories of Julia and what happened with Burroughs percolated far more effectively than the coffee he brewed. The taste, however, proved just as bitter.
Burroughs had made good his escape, killing the captain and leaving Sterling Roose with a black eye and swollen jaw. How the sergeant had managed it without help was a mystery. However he’d done it, he had killed Phelps, but not Roose. Yet another mystery. Things he still didn’t have any answers to. Incensed, Julia begged Cole to go in pursuit of him, bring him back to justice, and, after making sure Roose would be taken care of by the fort
