After the Court Martial

Chapter 1

Nick and Heath Barkley both liked a good game of poker better than almost anything else on a Friday night. Sometimes it was a tough decision, whether to opt for the poker or the "anything else," but tonight poker won out without a fight. The Empire Saloon was bustling. With one look when they stepped inside, they saw several games going and three men leaving one of the tables. They went straight to it, sitting right down with a "Mind if we join you?" from Nick.

They didn't know either one of the other two men left at the table. One of them said, "Happy to take your money."

Another stranger came along and sat down with them, saying, "My money's good too."

"Luck's been running good tonight, huh?" Heath asked.

"Fair," the stranger with the cards said. "Five card draw, nothing wild, jacks to open."

Heath waved a girl over and asked for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, while Nick lit up a cigar and the man with the cards dealt.

Then it was down to business.

They played serious poker for a good half an hour, nobody being a clear winner or loser, just handing their money around in circles. They looked at each other a lot but didn't exchange pleasantries or names. Except for the man who sat down at the same time Nick and Heath did, who didn't drink anything, they all nursed shots of whiskey but took their time with it. This was serious poker going on.

Heath took most of the pots and the game broke up when it got close to midnight. Tired, very relaxed from the whiskey but not drunk, Nick and Heath bid everyone else at the table good night and got up to leave. The one fellow who hadn't been drinking hadn't said much of anything either, and now he just put his hat back on and started out the door. It wasn't until then Nick noticed the limp.

It was an unusual limp, not just a limp. The man's right foot was actually twisted a bit counterclockwise. It reminded Nick of something – something somewhere – where?

As the man went out the door, Nick remembered where. Heath saw him straighten up like lightning had hit him. "What?" Heath asked.

"I know that guy!" Nick said and went after him.

Heath followed along. Nick caught up with the man on the street, under a streetlight, and Heath wasn't far behind. Nick took hold of the man's arm, stopping him, and the man turned.

"Askin – " Nick said. "Will Askin. It is you."

The man kept a straight face. "I'm sorry. You've mistaken me for someone else."

Nick muttered a little. He was positive this man was the Will Askin he had known. "Funny, you look just like someone I served with during the war. You have the same limp."

The man looked down at his twisted leg. "I got this four years ago when a horse fell on me. I didn't get this in the war. You've mistaken me for someone else."

Nick let him go, and the man went on his way. Heath gave a sigh. "Maybe you got him wrong, Nick. You've had a bit to drink."

"No," Nick insisted. "I'm not wrong. That's Will Askin."

"You think you knew him during the war?"

"I know I knew him during the war. He was a messenger for General Alderson, at the end of the war."

"You could be mistaken," Heath said.

"Not with that twisted foot," Nick said. "He had that twisted foot when he came to Alderson. He was at Mayville. I saw him at Mayville."

Now Heath felt his neck crawl too. It had only been a few weeks since the fiasco at the ranch, when the federal agents coerced a confession out of Nick's former commanding officer that he had ordered the destruction of a southern town and the murder of innocents, to cover his involvement as a confederate spy and his conspiring with Booth to murder President Lincoln. If this was Askin – if he was Alderson's messenger that night – what was he doing here in Stockton now?

"It can't be a coincidence," Nick said. "He's here for some reason."

Nick started off after him again, but Heath grabbed his arm and stopped him. "No, Nick, if he's here for a reason he's not gonna give it to you. We better tell Jarrod about this."

Nick glared at his brother in the streetlight, and Heath saw something he really didn't think he'd be seeing again. That awful night at the ranch, that night the federal agents came for Alderson, that night they held the whole family prisoner and made Nick believe they would hang him for the murders at Mayville because he had been Alderson's aide, came rushing back. And so had Nick's fury with Jarrod, who was in on the entire ruse from the beginning.

"Nick," Heath said, a warning. "You've been drinking. Let this go. Let's go home, go to bed, leave it all alone for tonight. We'll talk to Jarrod in the morning about this."

Nick spoke quietly, his voice a soft growl. "Why Jarrod? You think he knows something about this too?"

"Nick, I don't know what's going on," Heath said. "I just know you're not gonna get anything out of this guy here tonight, and it's probably a bad idea for you to try wrenching something out of Jarrod when you've been drinking. He might be asleep when we get home anyway."

"If he's awake, I'm gonna talk to him," Nick said. "I'm not going for any repeat of what happened with Alderson if it's Askin Jarrod's after now."

Heath slumped as Nick turned and headed for his horse. He didn't believe for a minute that this was some kind of ploy by Jarrod all over again. Jarrod had learned his lesson, the family had forgiven him, and it was all over. But there had been little clues that maybe Nick wasn't quite done with it. He and Jarrod had been noticeably cool to one another, even if they were cordial. Nick was still touchy about it, and right now, he was heading back up into a rage.

Heath went to his horse, mounted and followed Nick out of town.

XXXXXXX

Victoria and Audra had retired for the night, but as usual, Jarrod was up late, huddled over some paperwork at the corner desk in the living room. He looked up when Nick and Heath came through the door, but only long enough to see it was them. Looking back down at his work, he said, "Who was the big winner?"

"Will Askin," Nick said straight off as he and Heath went into the living room.

"Who?" Jarrod asked and saw Nick coming right up to him with an unhappy look.

"Will Askin," Nick repeated. "I saw him in town. I also saw him in Mayville?"

"Mayville?" Jarrod said, standing up slowly. "What did he have to do with Mayville?"

"He was a messenger for Alderson," Nick said.

"He doesn't live in Stockton, does he?" Jarrod asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," Nick said, "so that makes the question, what is he doing here?" He just glared at his older brother.

Jarrod read him right. "You think I have something to do with him being here?"

"You seem to be the one who knows what's going on," Nick said.

Jarrod read him right again. "Nick, I thought we worked this out. A couple times, I thought we worked it out. I thought you understood – "

"Understood, maybe," Nick said, "but now Askin's in town and I sure don't know why."

"Did you talk to him?" Jarrod asked. "Did you ask him why he was here?"

"He denied he was Askin," Nick said, "but I know the man. He was Askin."

"You don't know anything about him, Jarrod?" Heath asked, trying to interrupt the eruption brewing.

"I never heard of him before," Jarrod said.

"He never came up in any of your talks with Macklin while you were setting up Alderson's visit?"

"No," Jarrod said. "He didn't come up then and he hasn't come up since. I haven't even heard anything from Macklin since they left with Alderson. I washed my hands of it. I thought you two had too."

"So did I," Nick said. And he still glared.

Jarrod had realized something, from the night Alderson was taken away up until right now. Maybe his family had forgiven him for his part in the trick that caught Alderson and threatened the whole family, especially Nick, but forgiveness was one thing. Trust was something else entirely. Jarrod hadn't kidded himself at any time that he was trusted again yet. He especially knew Nick didn't trust him.

And now here was another character from that horrible drama at the end of the war, here in Stockton. Jarrod didn't have the slightest idea why or even who the man was, but the lingering mistrust was taking over again. "I don't know anything about any Askin," Jarrod said again. "I don't know why he'd be here in Stockton, but I'll find out."