Edge: Killer's Breed

"Yeah, they ain't even shooting no more," Seward confirmed, his voice dejected. "I thought we was winning, and now we lost."

Hedges spat and clucked the team forward into an easy walk. "You ought to be dead, but you're alive," he said softly.

"Right!" Seward exclaimed after a moment for thought. "Hell, you're right Captain. We're all alive, ain't we? It sure is a great war."

Hedges recalled the men pitching forward out of his gun-sight, spilling blood; the face of the Confederate officer he had blinded; the light-headed enthusiasm of the charge towards the enemy line at the Storie Bridge. His face was suddenly carved into a humorless grin that narrowed the blue eyes to slits of ice cold blue and curled back his thin lips to reveal teeth that looked as dangerous as those of an enraged animal.

"It's got its moments," he agreed.

Forrest saw the expression and heard the tone. He recognized both and slapped Hedges hard on the back "Hey, Captain, you're one of us now."

Hedges fastened him with a hard stare and shook his head as he felt another facet of his new character hammered into place. "You aren't even in the same league," he hissed.

*****

THE sheriff was not a big man and his courage could also be measured on a scale that took no account of the more than average. His appointment was a relatively new one and he had no personal recollections of the Hedges family and the killings out on the farm. But he knew where to find the right poster among the file of wanted notices and it was with some trepidation that he unfurled it for Grace Hope to see.

This was a quiet town, unused to major trouble in recent times, which had been a prime reason for him accepting the appointment as peace officer. He did not, therefore, relish the prospect of going after a double killer whom legend had built up into a vicious animal.

"That's him!" Grace exclaimed as Sheriff Layton unfurled the poster across the desk top to reveal the image of a younger, healthier Josiah C. Hedges than the living one at present wracked by fever at the farm.

Layton was a man in middle years with a long face that lengthened even more as the girl made the identification.

"You're sure, Grace?" Billy West asked. He was the same age as Grace, as handsome as she was pretty. He put a hand on her waist and leaned close to her over the desk, experiencing a stirring from her nearness.

"Yes, Billy. That's the man at the farm." She straightened and pulled away from his embrace, ashamed because she had compared him unfavorably with Hedges.

Leyton sighed and folded up the poster, small enough to fit into his shirt pocket. "Better round up a posse," he told his deputy. "He's sick, but he's an animal. Sick animals can be the most vicious kind."

Billy nodded and smiled at Grace. "Don't worry," he said with great self-assurance, hoping to impart confidence to the girl. "We'll take care of him."

She forced a small smile to her lips, knowing it did not reach her eyes. "I know you will, Billy."

"Get moving," Layton said as he fished a key from a drawer of the desk and rose towards the rifle rack. "If Hedges wakes up he might not take too kindly to the Hopes moving in on his land."

Grace drew in her breath and put a delicate hand to her mouth. She had not previously considered that the man may have come back to claim his own land. She was suddenly stricken by a fearful anxiety for her mother's safety and she followed Billy out of the office and climbed hurriedly into the buggy.

Her departure spurred on Billy West to greater speed as he rounded up as many men as he could find to help bring in a murderer."

CHAPTER EIGHT

"How'd you find me in a country this big?" Hedges asked as the girl stepped out from the lobby of the hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue, looking precisely as he had been visualizing her each time he read the short and now much tattered note she had written.

Jeannie Fisher's green eyes laughed and her soft lips came wide so that her teeth flashed in the sparse street lighting. "I knew the army had withdrawn to somewhere near Washington," she answered. "I just asked every officer I saw if they knew of a Lieutenant Hedges until I found one that did … or rather, Captain Hedges."

She was wearing a bright green dress to match her eyes, with a modest neckline but fitted snug enough to the waist to emphasize her body before it flared wide to the ankles. Hedges drank in the sight of her, as if he thought she was a mere mirage which, would vanish from his sight at any moment. They were in the center of the sidewalk and the crowd had to divide to go around them.

"I think we're causing an obstruction," she said and laughed again as she reached out and laid a hand gently on his arm.

He shook his head as if to clear it. "Sorry. I find it so hard to believe my luck."

They began to stroll with the crowd, she retaining her gentle hold on him.