posted by Ella
"I certainly am glad to have that sewing machine! Of course I would have time to make you a wedding dress, Rebecca," replied Ella. "Are there any more weddings pending? Maybe Jimmy and Sadie?"
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posted by Scarlet
“Thank you Ella!”
Rebecca hugged Ella not caring she had caught Ella off guard and now had some of the dirt she had been working with on her shoulders from the hug she got back.
The women grinned at Ella’s comment about another wedding.
“You never know, weddings seem to be contagious.” Rose said through her grin.
“Sadie’s got her mothers wedding dress. Had it the day she moved into the Ace, was one of the few things she held onto.” Rebecca said.
Scarlet chuckled and shook her head. “Better not go puttin’ ideas in Sadie’s head Becca.”
“We can make a list of things I need to order or get at the mercantile. I’d like green ribbons or something on it.” Rebecca bubbled.
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posted by Ella
"It's Jimmy's head that needs the idea put into." Ella laughed, "Oh my, that sentence had very German sentence structure, but you know what I meant. As soon as I finish here, Rose and I should measure you, Rebecca, and start tossing design ideas around. I've got a bit of the emerald satin left over from the dress I wore for New Year's Eve. Maybe we could put scraps of that behind cutwork in ivory satin. "
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posted by Scarlet
“Oh that sounds wonderful.” Rebecca said starting to help Ella. She looked up at Scarlet. “I’d like to ask Trixie to be here. Think she’d stay on for a bit if we offered her a job at the Ace?”
“I like that idea.” Scarlet looked over her shoulder where the woman was standing with Jimmy looking over one of the horses. “Fact now is a good time.” She said with a sly grin and wandered off.
“Don’t be thinkin’ like a woman now.” Rose laughed after her. “That’s what Jimmy would say about it.” She said to Ella and Becca.
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posted by Fritz
Fritz stared at a spot just above and to the left of Colonel Troutman’s ear. He’d had his ass chewed before…but not recently. He stood rigidly at attention. His left arm hung in a sling, his sack coat draped over his shoulders. The wound in his side still hurt some, but he tried to pay it no mind.
“If you were my soldier, I’d have your ass in irons right now! In all my years of service, this is the most egregious violation of military rules I’ve ever seen! Who the hell do you think you are?”
Fritz kept his mouth shut. He knew whatever answer he’d give was wrong, and the Colonel would just get angrier.
“Larceny of Government Property…”
Fritz couldn’t recall what was stolen. The Gatling gun had been completely disassembled and cleaned (by Bill, just because he was curious) and returned to the armory.
“Misappropriation of Government Property…
Fritz had expended one full magazine from the gun, totaling 40 rounds of .45-70 ammunition. He’d since reloaded and returned the casings, plus the extras Keith had provided him.
“You’re a liar and a cheat, and if you were my solider, I’d have you court-martialled!!!”
Fritz held his tongue. He didn’t like being called a liar and a cheat without cause. To his knowledge, he hadn’t lied or cheated anyone.
“But,” Colonel Troutman added, “I’ve been reminded that you’re NOT my soldier.” He flipped through letters on his desk, and found one on heavy parchment, bearing a presidential seal.
“You have powerful friends, apparently. I’ve been reminded that you only belong to this post administratively. You’re assigned to the Territorial Marshal. What’s that?” Troutman asked, pointing to the folder under Fritz’ arm.
Fritz handed the folder over. “My report, sir.”
“On what?”
“On the field testing of the M1874 Gatling gun, “Camel gun” variant.”
The Colonel flipped through the file. He was impressed, despite himself.
“Any problems with it?”
“The folding sights are a bit flimsy for my tastes,” Fritz replied. “I’d make them fixed, and heavier.”
Troutman tossed the file onto his cluttered desk. “That’s all, sergeant,” he said.
Fritz rendered a salute, and began to about-face.
“Oh, Sergeant,” Troutman said, “there IS one more thing.”
The other shoe was about to drop.
“By regulation, the rank of First Sergeant was created as a buffer between the commissioned and enlisted ranks…would you agree?”
“Yes sir,” he replied.
“Should the commissioned officer be injured or killed, the First Sergeant takes command of troops in the field. Isn’t that right?”
Fritz knew where this was going. “Yes sir.”
Troutman was smiling now. He put both hands on top of his desk.
“Do you currently lead troopers in the field?”
Fritz sighed. “No, sir.”
“Then, administratively, I’m reducing you in rank to Sergeant. Should you decide to return to your duties of leading troopers in the field, your rank, and requisite pay, will be immediately reinstated.” The Colonel didn’t wait for a reply. He turned on his heel, and looked out the window. “You’re dismissed, Sergeant.”
Fritz turned and left the office, without bothering to close the door.
Rosie O’Grady had been serving the troops for many a year. Back during the war, when she was young and fair, she serviced the men in other ways. She’d saved a fair penny or two in the process. Now, she was the only authorized person to wash and mend troopers’ uniforms. She looked at the solider riding up and smiled, seeing the old, sky-blue greatcoat mounted on the saddle. Then she saw the blood.
“Now you be givin’ me that sack coat and greatcoat right now. Jesus!” Rosie spat. “It might be better if you stripped naked, and jumped into this here bucket of lye.”
Fritz pulled the greatcoat from its straps and handed it over. He took off the sack coat and gave it over as well.
“Rosie, would you cut the lozenges off before you clean ‘em?” Fritz asked.
“Were ya busted now, Sergeant?”
“Yep…you could say that,” Fritz replied.
“Well, don’t you worry none,” Rosie smiled. “You keep your nose clean, and you’ll get ‘em back.. I’ll have these ready by Thursday.”
Fritz tossed her a coin. “No hurry,” he added, as he turned to leave.
Fritz saluted the colors. As he rode to the gate, he saluted the Officer of the Day.
“You’re out of uniform, Mister,” the young Lieutenant remarked.
Fritz looked down. “Yep…I guess I am," he said. He reached into his vest pocket, and pinned the badge back on his vest. With that, Fritz rode out the gate.
The End