Chapter 18
Rock Creek, Nebraska 1872
Morning light bathed Rock Creek in warmth, but Kid felt a coldness growing as the soldier marched toward the marshal's office—his uniform a stark reminder of the unspoken threat he carried with him. As the officer drew near, Kid forced his features into a mask of neutrality, determined not to betray his wariness. He stepped forward, meeting the man at the bottom of the stairs.
"Good morning," Kid greeted, his voice steady despite the unease coiling in his gut.
"Marshal," the officer replied, his tone laden with an authority that grated against Kid's nerves.
Kid's gaze swept over the man, taking in the crisp uniform and the cold glint in his eyes. "What brings you to Rock Creek?" He inquired, careful to keep his voice level.
The officer's smile was a thin, practiced line—cold, calculated, and void of warmth. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Captain Lucas Monroe," he said, extending his hand. "I'm here to ensure all the Indians get to their respected places. Peacefully."
At the mention of the name, Kid felt a jolt of recognition. Captain Monroe's reputation as an Indian killer was well-known, and the realization of who stood before him sent a chill down Kid's spine. He shook the captain's hand briefly, his mind racing with the implications of Monroe's presence in Rock Creek.
"I don't want any trouble here," Kid asserted, his voice low and firm, carrying an unspoken warning.
Monroe's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. "Well, son," he drawled, the word dripping with condescension, "as long as you stay out of my way and keep to the town's business, I don't suspect you'll have any."
The patronizing tone set Kid's teeth on edge, but he held his ground, meeting Monroe's gaze without flinching. A tense silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the town coming to life around them.
Finally, Monroe turned away, his boots echoing on the wooden boardwalk as he strode down the street. As the captain disappeared from view, Kid let out a long, slow breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settle heavily on his shoulders. He turned back to the marshal's office, his steps measured and deliberate. The battle for power had only just begun, and Kid had no intention of backing down.
Inside the office, Kid sank into his chair, his fingers drumming a restless pattern on the desk. He needed to warn Buck, to prepare the town for whatever Monroe had planned. But he also knew he had to tread carefully. One wrong move could spark a conflict that would engulf them all.
For now, Kid would bide his time, watching and waiting for the opportune moment to stand up to Monroe. He pulled out a piece of paper, beginning to jot down his thoughts and plans. As the morning light streamed through the window, Kid's determination hardened. Whatever came next, he would be ready.