Two for Home

Chapter 1-3

He was dunking a piece of hardtack in a cup of coffee to soften it when the lieutenant strode up to him.

“Come with me.”

Zach put aside the tin cup. “Did I do something wrong?” Was he at fault for what those men had tried to do?

“What? No!”

Zach breathed out a sigh of relief and once again did as he was ordered.

Lieutenant Marriott led him to the lines where the horses were picketed. His stride was stiff, and he muttered under his breath, but every so often, Zach could distinguish a word or two, and if his Pa had ever heard Zach using those words, Pa would have whaled the tar out of him.

“Those men are the Wilson brothers—Ezra, Ephraim, Eli, and Enoch. They’re bad news.” The lieutenant’s voice was stone cold. “Their commanding officer won’t do anything about them. He lost too many men and is willing to believe them when they say you made the whole thing up.”

“But the bite mark—”

“Wilson claimed a dog bit him.”

Zach stared at him, open-mouthed. “I don’t lie.”

“Think I don’t know that? Though if you’d been a girl, they would have swung for laying a hand on you.” He reached out and squeezed Zach’s shoulder. “They’ll be moving out in a day or so. Until them, I want you to stay in camp.”

“Yes, sir. Lieutenant? What they wanted to make me do…”

“It’s been called the French way to make love, although it’s more enjoyable when both parties agree to it—even more so if they care for each other. If one is forced…” He shook his head and murmured low, “That poor little girl.” Then he spoke in a normal tone of voice. “One day, when you’re older, you’ll find someone who’ll do that to you.”

“Men can do that to other men? I mean, those men wanted me to do it to them.”

“How old are you, Shorty?”

“I turned twelve in April.”

“You’ve got the eyes of an old soul. Sometimes that makes me forget how young you are.”

Because of Zach’s height—or rather lack of it—people tended not to look beyond it and always saw him as a kid.

The lieutenant’s shoulders slumped, and while Zach didn’t understand why, he did feel bad for him. The lieutenant straightened. “Did your pa ever talk to you about what goes on between a man and a woman?”

“Yeah, but he never said anything about what could happen between two men.” Although come to think of it, Zach did recall something from when he and Pa had lived with Ma’s people. He brushed it aside for the time being. “Is it wrong?”

“Love is never wrong.” Once again he rested his palm on Zach’s shoulder, and Zach was distracted by how much he liked the sensation. “Some folks think the act—its proper name is fellatio—is too French. You just have to be careful.”

“I will be, I promise. Er…Have you, Lieutenant?”

“Have I what?” For a second he looked nervous, and Zach wondered why.

“Found someone who’d do that to you?” Zach wasn’t sure why, but it felt important for him to know this.

“Yes.”

Zach wanted to ask if it had been with a man or a lady, but the grim line around the lieutenant’s mouth persuaded him not to.

“Here,” the lieutenant said. He handed Zach a little pearl-handled derringer. “Keep this with you. And don’t shoot yourself in the foot. It’s loaded.”

“I know how to shoot.”

“Sure you do.”

Zach scowled at him. “Pa taught me.”

“Of course. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted. But I can’t take this, Lieutenant. It’s too valuable.” Thanks to his pa, Zach knew guns, and this deadly little beauty was worth a lot of money.

“Not as valuable as you are, Shorty.” A flush colored the lieutenant’s cheeks. “What I mean to say is, you’re an excellent drummer, and I’m sure if you hadn’t continued to beat your drum earlier today, this would have turned into a worse defeat than it was. So you keep it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The lieutenant ruffled Zach’s shaggy mop of black hair and walked him back to the safety of their camp. He left Zach there while he went to see to the men, and Zach stared after him, a strange feeling low down in his belly that he’d never felt before.

So this is hero worship, he thought. He ran his fingertips over the fine work on the derringer’s barrel and handle, and in spite of the all-around horror of the day, he smiled.