Thomas didn’t like the fact that James was not in front of the hotel. The men must have moved after it got dark and he’d followed them—but to where?

After he left the hotel he kicked himself for not going inside and checking with the clerk. Maybe one or both of the men had gone to their room. And maybe his father was right, and they were just a couple of drifters. Maybe he’d overreacted at the Road House when one of them bumped him and spilled his beer. If he’d let it go, there would have been no confrontation.

But one of them—the one called Cardwell—he was too slick for Thomas’s liking. There was something about him that said he was more than a drifter.

He stopped in the street, halfway between the hotel and the sheriff’s office. Should he go back and check? Or should he keep looking for James? He hadn’t passed his brother on the way, so apparently James hadn’t gone back to the office.

There was only one other part of town they could have gone to.

James followed Sean Davis to the Road House Saloon but did not go in after him. Maybe the man had a one- track mind and was looking for Thomas. James got close enough to the window to look inside. He saw Davis standing at the bar, but his brother was nowhere in sight. He decided to stay right there by the window so he could watch the man’s every move. Because he was so intent on this, he was startled when Thomas came up next to him.

“Jesus!” he said. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry,” Thomas said. “When I found you were gone from the hotel, I got worried. Are they inside?”

“One of them is.”

Thomas leaned to look in the window. “That’s Davis. Where’s the other one, Cardwell?”

“He went into the hotel. I had to decide whether to stay there or follow this one, and I needed to decide fast.”

“Don’t sound so defensive,” Thomas said, putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You did the right thing.”

“Thanks, Thomas.”

“What’s he been doin’ in there?”

“Just drinkin’.”

“Pa’s probably right.”

“About what?”

“He said they were probably just driftin’ through,” Thomas explained, “just like they said.”

James looked at his brother, whose face was bathed in yellow light from inside the saloon.

“But you don’t believe that.”

“Somethin’ just doesn’t feel right to me.”

“Should we go in?” James asked.

“No,” Thomas said, “that would be askin’ for trouble.”

“What, then?”

Thomas straightened, moved away from the window. “Let’s just forget it.”

“What?”

“This whole thing got started because of me,” Thomas said. “I say let it drop. Leave them alone. They’ll probably leave town tomorrow, anyway.”

“But—”

“And by spending so much time and attention on them, who knows what we’ve missed?”

“What about Pa?” James asked. “He’s been around. Nothin’ gets by him.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Pa hasn’t been himself lately,” Thomas said.

“Neither have we, I think.”

“You’re right about that,” Thomas said. “This…anniversary has been hard on all of us.”

“The anniversary of Ma’s death,” James said. “Matthew didn’t die till later—weeks later. What’s gonna happen when that day’s anniversary comes?”

“I don’t know,” Thomas said, laying his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I guess we’ll just have to be better prepared for that day. Come on, we’ve had a long day of wasting time on these two.”

Older brother tugged younger brother away from the saloon, with James casting dubious glances back. He wasn’t sure about his brother’s decision, but he allowed himself to be led away.

As Thomas led James away from the Road House, he wondered if he should tell him about their father’s conversation with the mayor. But no, his pa wanted to do that himself. But not tonight. Thomas thought if he took James home now maybe he could get his brother to turn in before their father got home. He knew his father wouldn’t wake James, but would wait until morning. And maybe, in the light of a new day, everything would look a little better.

Shaye sat as his desk, grateful that this day was coming to an end. He too was remembering when Matthew died, and that they still had the first anniversary of that day to live through. Once they were past that, then maybe they could get on with their lives. If the boys did both choose to go off on their own, then it would be up to him to decide their next move. Was Vengeance Creek just a stop along the way?

And if so, along the way to where?

16

When Cardwell looked out the window the next morning, he was surprised. Neither of the deputies were across the street.

“Wake up!” he shouted at Sean Davis, snoring in the next bed.

“Wha…?” Davis came awake and grabbed for his gun, which was resting on the dresser across the way. Cardwell had learned long ago that the other man’s first instinct upon waking was to go for his pistol.

“Wake up, Sean,” Cardwell said. “Come on, we need to talk.”

Davis looked at Cardwell and tried to focus his eyes. “Whatsamatta?” he asked.

“Were you followed to the saloon last night?” Cardwell asked.

Davis frowned. “I dunno.”

“Damn it!” Cardwell walked across the room, picked up the pitcher of water that was on the dresser, and dumped the contents over Sean Davis’s head.

“Hey—Wha—” Davis sputtered as he leaped from the bed. “What the hell are you doin’?”

“Tryin’ to wake you up.”

“Well, I’m awake!” Davis shouted. He ran his hands over his wet face, then looked down at himself.

“Then listen to me,” Cardwell said. “And answer my questions. Did the deputy follow you last night?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, think about it,” Cardwell said. “I saw him leave after you, but did he follow you? Did he watch you all night? Did he trail you back here? Come on, man!”

“I dunno!” Davis said. “I drank a lot. I can’t remember.”

“Well, they’re not outside today,” Cardwell said, looking out the window again.

Davis finally started to wake up. He began stripping his wet long johns off.

“That’s a good thing, right?”

Cardwell looked at him. “I adjusted my plan to include them. If they’re not around, I’ll have to adjust again.”

“Go back to the original plan.”

“It must be nice to have nothin’ goin’ on in your head,” Cardwell said.

“Least I sleep soundly.”

Cardwell was aware that he didn’t sleep well, tended to toss and turn most of the night.

“Get yourself dressed,” he said. “We have a busy day today.”

Naked, Davis reached down and scratched his crotch. Cardwell averted his eyes, said, “I’ll meet you downstairs,” and left.

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