Chapter 15
Rock Creek, Nebraska 1872
Heat shimmered off the wooden boardwalks, and most townsfolk had retreated indoors to escape the punishing rays. Kid pushed open the door to the marshal's office, welcomed by the relative coolness of the shaded interior. The familiar scent of old paper and stale coffee greeted him as he stepped inside.
With a practiced motion, Kid tossed his hat onto the desk, the brim still damp with sweat from his morning rounds. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that had been sitting on the stove all day, the liquid dark and bitter.
As he raised the cup to his lips, Kid's gaze fell on his deputy. John Peterson sat nearby, his chair tipped back against the wall, eyes closed. A thin line of drool at the corner of his mouth suggested he was more than just resting his eyes.
"Any sign of him?" Kid inquired, his voice sharp enough to startle Peterson awake.
Peterson jerked upright, nearly toppling his chair. He blinked rapidly, feigning alertness as he scanned the street through the office window. "Not yet," he replied, clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment.
"Great," Kid muttered, frustration evident in his tone. Days of searching for Vasquez had yielded nothing, and the lack of progress was starting to wear on him.
As Kid settled behind his desk, the distant sound of hoof beats broke the afternoon quiet. He looked up, noticing Peterson's sudden attentiveness. Both men moved to the window, squinting against the glare. A cloud of dust on the horizon signaled the approach of riders. As it drew closer, the glint of metal and the rhythmic movement of horses became visible.
"Looks like we might have some help," Peterson remarked, gesturing toward the approaching contingent. His expression, however, was more wary than relieved.
Kid's jaw tightened as the dust settled, revealing a dozen soldiers in crisp blue uniforms, riding in perfect formation towards the town. Their presence, so out of place in the quiet streets of Rock Creek, sent a chill down his spine despite the heat.
"They ain't help, Peterson," Kid observed grimly, his tone resolute as he anticipated the potential challenges ahead. Teaspoon's warning about the soldiers' departure from Willow Bluff echoed in his mind. "That's trouble."
The two lawmen watched in tense silence as the soldiers drew nearer, their arrival promising to upset the delicate balance Kid had been struggling to maintain in town.