3
It was dusk when Ben Cardwell and Sean Davis rode into Vengeance Creek. Cardwell was shorter and stockier, but both men were in their thirties, wearing trail-worn clothes and well-used guns. The streets were just about empty, which suited them just fine.
“What do we know about this town?” Davis asked.
“Easy pickin’s,” Cardwell said.
“What about the law?”
“Name’s Shaye, Dan Shaye,” Cardwell said.
“Do we know him?”
“Supposed to be some hotshot lawman from Texas.”
“So what makes this place so easy if he’s a hotshot lawman from Texas?”
“Don’t worry,” Cardwell said. “Even if we run into him, we’ll have enough men backing us up.”
“You keep tellin’ me about these other men,” Davis said. “How many? Are they any good?”
“They have guns and they’ll know how to use them,” Cardwell said.
“But are they any good?”
“It don’t matter,” Cardwell said. “We just have to put them between the law and us.”
“Are they in for full shares?”
“There’s only gonna be two full shares, Sean,” Cardwell said, “and they’re ours.”
The Shayes had worked out a system they thought worked well—especially for Dan. Thomas was an early riser, so he opened the office in the morning. Dan came along later in the morning, and James in the afternoon. It was James who was in the office late, and who made late rounds. Sometimes Dan changed his schedule—he’d either show up early to help Thomas out or stay late to help James.
As they left the Carver House, Shaye announced he’d be staying late with James.
“Checkin’ up on little brother, huh?” Thomas asked. “That’s good, he needs some lookin’ after.”
They all knew that wasn’t the reason, though. Shaye didn’t want to go home to the house they shared just on the outskirts north of town. Alone with his thoughts, he’d just start thinking about his dead wife. Once that started, it would lead him to thinking about his deceased son. No, tonight he preferred to stay at work.
Thomas wasn’t particularly anxious to go home alone either, but he kept that information to himself. He separated from his brother and father, saying he’d see them later at home. As soon as they were out of sight, he removed his badge and headed for the side of town that was across the dead line.
Cardwell and Davis were walking from the livery to the nearest hotel when they saw three men come out of the Carver House Cafe. There was still enough light for them to see the badges on the men’s chests.
“Wait a minute,” Cardwell said. “In here.” He pushed Davis into a doorway.
“What are you doin’?”
“I just want to watch the local law for a minute.”
They watched as the three men talked, then parted ways, one going off in one direction, the remaining two another way.
“Whataya think?” Davis asked.
“The sheriff’s got some years on ’im,” Cardwell said, “and one of the deputies looks like a green kid. It doesn’t look like they’ll be much trouble.”
“What about the third one?”
“He looks capable enough,” Cardwell said, stepping out of the doorway, “but one man’s not gonna be a problem either. Come on, let’s get that hotel room. In the morning we can take a look at the town.”
4
Shaye and James made late rounds together in an awkward silence. They stopped in several saloons, checked the locked doors of some businesses, made sure the parts of the town that were shutting down for the night were secure, then headed back to the office.
“Pa?” James said on the way.
“Yes, James?”
“You miss Ma, don’t you?”
Shaye hesitated, then said, “I miss Ma and Matthew, James.”
“So do I.”
After a couple more blocks Shaye said, “Why did you ask me that?”
“Um, you hide it real well,” James said. “I mean, you’re…quiet. Somebody lookin’ at you couldn’t tell, you know?”
“Men wear their grief differently, James,” Shaye said. “Look at Thomas. He wears it as quietly as I do.”
“But Thomas talk to me about it.”
“He does?”
“Well…when I ask ’im.”
Shaye put his arm around his younger son’s shoulders. “James, whenever you ask me, I’ll talk to you about it too. How’s that?”
“That’d be good, Pa,” James said. “That’d be real good.”
When Cardwell and Davis registered at the Palace Hotel, Cardwell checked the register to see if any of his other men had arrived yet. They took one room with two beds, went upstairs to drop off their rifles and saddlebags.
“I saw you checkin’ the book,” Davis said. “Anybody else here yet?”
“No,” Cardwell said, “we’re first.”
“I know any of these other fellas?”
“No,” Cardwell said. “I figured you might have a problem double-crossing somebody you know.”
“Not if there’s enough money involved.”
“This bank’s supposed to hold a lot,” Cardwell said. “Lots of ranchers in the area bank here.”
“How do you know that?”
“I got somebody on the inside who’s been keepin’ me informed,” Cardwell said.
“You trust them?”
“I trust the information.”
“You gonna cut them in?”
“I’ll have to see about that.”
Davis went to the window and looked down at the street. “Awful quiet around here once the sun goes down,” he commented.
“We’ll see how busy she is when the sun comes up,” Cardwell said. “Gotta remember this is a weekday too. Folks worked all day and went home to eat and sleep. Weekend might be a little livelier.”
“Why don’t we find a part of town that’s livelier now?” Davis asked. “I could sure use a beer and a woman about now.”
“So could I,” Cardwell said. “Let’s go find ’em.”
Thomas stopped in at the Road House Saloon, where the bartenders and saloon girls all knew him.
“Beer, Tom?” Al Baker asked him.
“Yep.”
Baker, who not only worked the bar but owned the place, placed a cold mug in front of Thomas, who paid him. Thomas had long ago told Baker that whether he was wearing a badge or not, he paid his way. The older man respected him for that.
“Hi, Tommy.” A blonde in a red dress sidled up to him, pressing her hips firmly against his. He could feel the
