The Ghost of Iron Eyes (An Iron Eyes Western Book 8) Read Online Free Page B

and his reputation. He had
become more than a mere man in the eyes of his fellow Rangers. He
had taken on a mantle of one who knew that he was cut from a
different cloth from most of his fellow mortals.
    Eighteen perilous campaigns had
only added to his seemingly mythical status. Caufield Cotter was someone who
had transcended mere mortality until he had created what all his
fellows regarded as a persona which had become more than
human.
    His men thought that he was
somehow blessed.
    But they did not see the man
who remained behind closed doors in his private quarters trying to
work out how to cope with more and more demands with fewer and
fewer Rangers.
    He had already had to
send a
hundred and fifty of his men east to replace those lost at the
hands of the Apache. Men he could ill afford to lose. With only
fifty Rangers left, including himself and his officers, he knew
that he had reached breaking point.
    Caufield Cotter simply did not
have enough Rangers left at Apache Wells to fulfill his obligations to the
homesteads and ranches in his district. When telegraph messages had
started to flood on to his desk begging for military help from
Waco, he knew that he was in serious trouble.
    After years of earning a
chest full of medals and reaching an age when most men were either
retired or dead, he would have to saddle up and lead his small
troop into action himself.
    His eyes stared down at the
scrap of paper in his hand. He felt a shiver trace its way up his
straight spine. Cotter knew that he would have once again to prove
himself.
    But Cotter was not the man
that he had once been.
    He was nearly seventy years
of age and his health far from good.
    The hooded eyes looked up at
his second in command, Theo Newton. They could not disguise his
anguish.
    ‘ When
did this arrive, Lieutenant?’
    ‘ Noon,
sir,’ Newton replied.
    ‘ Damn!’ Cotter sighed as he rose to his feet and strode to
the open window of his office. ‘We have to ride and ride damn soon,
Theo.’
    ‘ I
don’t understand, sir,’ Newton admitted. ‘Ride where?’
    Cotter waved his right hand
at his fellow Ranger.
    ‘ Read
that message, son.’
    Lieutenant Newton did as he was
ordered. The words seemed to drain every ounce of color from his
tanned features.
    ‘ You
know this Lane Clark critter?’
    ‘ Yep.
I know him,’ Cotter replied. ‘The finest man never to have been in
the Rangers. If he’s asking for help, then we have ourselves a
serious problem.’
    Newton gulped hard. ‘But there are only
fifty men on the post at the moment, sir. Far too few to engage in
any sort of conflict.’
    ‘ I’ve
fought greater odds with fewer men, Theo,’ Colonel Cotter said
honestly.
    The officer placed the wire on
the desk and rubbed the corners of his dry mouth with his fingers.
He looked at the elderly officer and wondered if he were still as
brilliant as he had once been. Could Caufield Cotter still cut the
mustard?
    ‘ Speak
your mind, son,’ Cotter said, his wrinkled eyes studying the face
of the young man before him. A man whom he knew had some of the
fire in his belly that had fuelled his own youth.
    ‘ This
is a long ride through Indian territory and we don’t know what’s
waiting for us at the end of it, sir. If it is anything like
Marshal Clark describes, it’ll be bloody. Damn bloody.’ Lieutenant
Newton paused for a moment, then looked straight at his mentor.
‘Are you up to that kinda ordeal, sir?’
    Cotter smiled.
    ‘ Damn.
You’re a mighty brave young man and no mistake, Theo. I’d have
eaten broken glass rather than say that to my superior officer when
I was your age.’
    ‘ Are
you?’ Newton pressed for an answer to the brutal question.
‘Well?’
    ‘ I’m
not sure, but I’ll give it my best shot. What can I lose, after
all?’ Cotter looked at the telegraph message again and then at the
man before him. ‘I have to lead this troop and try to help my old
pal. With you at my side and forty-eight Rangers on our tails, we
ought