Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

Jacques Trebec joined the two lieutenants in the commandant's office after Bob Hendrick returned to the officer's room and dressed. The other men either resumed their sentry duties or returned to their siestas in the barracks after all had taken the opportunity of sizing up this bigger-than-life character who had dropped in on them.

"Where have you come from?" Anderson asked when the three men had settled down with tin cups of coffee. Hendrick wasn't saying much of anything—and wasn't looking at Trebec too often. Anderson had sized the tinker up, though, and correctly assessed him as competition—even with Hendrick—so he was sticking with business. He had come onto the parade ground early enough to have caught that there must be a history between Trebec and the other lieutenant, and he didn't like it a bit. The man had a sensuality and assurance about him that Anderson, worn down by weeks of worry over the Apaches beyond the gates, didn't feel up to competing with.

"From Fort Sumner," the French Canadian answered.

"Any indication they know what we're facing here?"

"They know two wagon trains didn't come back from supply trips to here or two other small forts. They know there must be trouble with the Apaches. They don't seem to know where exactly the trouble is, though."

"The two wagon trains . . ."

"I saw evidence of both on my way here. Both picked clean. No survivors that I saw."

"But you saw—"

"Yes, I could tell it was Apaches who wiped them out. The arrows were Apache and they had taken scalps. Got them real riled up, you do, bringing in settlers to what was supposed to be open range the army had told them they'd be free on. Their view is that the whole region is theirs."

The three sat there, drinking coffee. Trebec was looking hard at Hendrick. Hendrick knew he was but still wasn't saying anything or looking in Trebec's direction unless he thought the tinker wasn't looking at him. But Trebec's gaze remained on him.

"Have any foodstuffs in that wagon of yours—or ammunition?" Anderson asked, trying to avoid an argument with the tinker over who had the right to be here—he was just a soldier, doing the job he was assigned to do.

"Not much," Trebec answered. "Not enough to extend whatever you have for more than a few days. How many soldiers you got here? I didn't see many comin' out for my arrival."

"Fifteen, including Bob and me," Anderson answered.

"Not many. If the Apaches knew . . ."

"We're doing what we can to keep them from knowing."

They were silent for several minutes, each lost to his own thoughts. Anderson was thinking of their predicament. Hendrick was thinking of the last time he'd been fucked by Trebec. Trebec was thinking of both.

"You're gonna have to try to get word to Sumner," Trebec said at last, in a low voice. "They know there's trouble, but they don't know that it's here. For all they know, you were supplied and the wagon trains ran into trouble farther down the line."

"I know," Anderson said. "I've been thinking we need to try to get word to them for a couple of days now. I'll go pick out a couple of men. I'm senior here. I'll be the one to make the try."

"No, George, you can't," Bob Hendrick said, suddenly coming awake and pulling at Anderson's arm as George stood from the table. "You can't make it. I'm a better horseman. Sorry to have to say it, but I am. I'll go."

"I'm senior, Bob," Anderson said in a quiet, but determined, voice. "I'll be the one going. I'd be called out to give up my bars if I didn't." He stepped away from the table and walked out of the room.

Bob couldn't argue with that. He knew he'd have been expected to do the same if he were senior.

That left Trebec and Hendrick, alone.

"Why are you here, Jacques?" Bob asked.

"I told you. I came for you. I got in here through the Apaches. I can get you out. Only some of them are warpathing. I supply them. I have a better chance of getting you out of here, hidden under my wares, than you do on a horse in that uniform."

"You know I can't do that. I have responsibilities here."

"Find us someplace private for a hour, and I'll convince you otherwise."

"I can't, Jacques. We can't."

"That other lieutenant's fucking you now, isn't he?"

Bob didn't answer.

"Well, he's getting ready to break out of here. Even if he's successful, it will be nearly a week before he can get back here with relief forces. You'll be here without him. But I'll be here. Have you ever gone a week without a man between your thighs?—since you had your first man?"

"You were my first man, Jacques."

"That doesn't answer my question. When I was fucking you, you couldn't get it often enough."

"We can't. I can't."

"I think you will. But even if you don't, I don't go that long. Either sleep under me while your lieutenant is gone or stand back when I take my choice of the dozen young men who will be left here and who will have me. I saw some of them looking me over. They're sex starved. There are plenty here who will lie under me, I'll wager."

"You wouldn't."

But he did, as Hendrick discovered that night, after Anderson and two young privates had ridden out, saying they'd split up and find separate ways to Sumner, with the hope that at least one of them would get through.

Lieutenant Hendrick was making the rounds of the sentry posts before turning in. He heard them in the guardroom next to the gate as he came to the doorway. Trebec was fucking one of the young privates, standing, against the wall. The private's uniform was on the dirt floor. Trebec was clothed as he had been earlier. Hendrick well knew, though, the utility of that drop-down codpiece in the French Canadian's buckskin trousers. The private's back was to the wall and his naked arms were around Trebec's neck and his naked legs hooked on Trebec's hips. Trebec was fucking him with vigorous strokes while the young private groaned and moaned.

Hendrick was about to intervene, but then he thought, what the hell, the young man was enjoying himself; Trebec wasn't forcing him. Bob knew of the pleasures Trebec gave with that thick, long cock of his. It could be the last pleasure in the young man's life. Besides, the tinker had declared what he'd do if Hendrick didn't lie with him. Bob wanted to, of course, but he just couldn't do that to George while George was out there in peril.

He turned and went back to the officers' room, locked the door behind him, stripped, and lay down on the bed. He went to sleep masturbating himself while thinking of all the things Trebec had done to him when they last were together in St. Louis, and wondering how long he could hold out against Trebec being between his thighs again.