Bridget's Days Ch. 09

"Good evening," he said, pleasantly enough, inclining his head.

"Good evening, Captain," I replied.

"I trust you will pardon this intrusion but I have orders to examine all east bound travelers to make sure that no one affected by the 'Treaty' of New Echota," and I was encouraged by the obvious quote marks he verbally hung around the word, "Is attempting to move in a direction other than that of West to the new reservation in the Oklahoma Territory."

I should have held my tongue but I was never able to do that. "I will pardon you Captain, but reluctantly, I must confess. I do not like at all this tearing of a people from their homeland. But," I raised my hand to forestall any interruption, "I realize that you are bound by orders."

"Yes," he acknowledged. "Orders are hard to obey sometimes. One takes an oath and then has to decide which is the greater evil, to break the oath or uphold it." He stood looking out across the river. Not by a single muscle twitch did I allow myself to look towards the Ross's' hiding place. My heart leapt as I realized that he was also avoiding looking in that direction.

"Thoughts cross your mind," he continued. "You think about resigning." I nodded. The delay that had given us the chance to attempt our escape had arisen when General John Wool had refused to move the Cherokee, resigning in protest. "But you decide that perhaps you can balance your conscience and your duty. During these sweeps," he indicated the patrol, "I would, of course, be required to apprehend anyone I observed attempting to evade the movement. But obviously, what I don't see, I cannot act upon. And perhaps when the trek begins, I can try to alleviate as much of the resulting misery as I can."

His voice trailed off and then he squared his shoulders and lifted his head. "Well, I must apologize, Madame. I have taken up your valuable time and I do not see anything in this area that would force me to act." He marched back to his horse and swung into the saddle. He lifted his uniform cap. "Good evening."

"Captain, wait," I called on a sudden impulse. When he reined in, I walked quickly to his side." I reached up and put my hand on his. "Captain, may I have your name, please?"

"Gibson, Madame, Captain Thomas Gibson."

"Thank you Captain," I breathed. "Thank you for being a gentleman, as well as an honorable officer and man." He bowed in the saddle. Giving a quick order to his troops, he led them away at a trot.

Long after the sound of the hoofs faded and the Ross's had returned, I stared out into the darkness. As we crossed the river and continued on towards the haven that we would eventually successfully reach, I kept a handsome, stern face in my mind.

(To Be Concluded)