Chapter SeventeenThey came not long afterwards, four of them, an officer and three soldiers, all armed. Simms gave White Dove a look and raised his arms, allowing one of the men in blue to relieve him of his weapons. With White Dove's sobs ringing in his ears, he let them escort him across the square to the jailhouse. A crowd gathered outside to watch, silent, anger brewing in every hard stare.
Porter stood inside the jailhouse, drinking steaming hot coffee. From the look of him, the dishevelled hair, the dark rimmed eyes, it seemed to Simms the man had only recently dragged himself out of bed. He wondered who he shared his night with this time.
“Disappointed,” the major said, watching the men bringing Simms inside whilst the Lieutenant unlocked the cell door.
Simms stood, shoulders sag
