Vengeance Creek

“Not in such a good mood, after all?” Thomas asked. “Are you?”

EPILOGUE

Telegrams came and went, and three days after Thomas had killed Ben Cardwell, he and Ralph Cory rode into the town of Trinidad. Waiting for them in the dining room at the Columbian Hotel were both Dan and James Shaye, and Rigoberto Colon. They all exchanged information to fill in the gaps….

At the home of Wendy Williams, earlier in the week, Dan Shaye had received a telegram from Vengeance Creek. Ron Hill had told him that he had gotten a telegram from Trinidad that James was being held by the law there until his identity could be confirmed. Shaye had taken his newly bandaged wound onto a horse and set out for Trinidad, still not knowing where Thomas was.

“He let me stay in jail until he got here,” James complained to Thomas, “me and Berto both.”

“I told you,” Shaye said, “the sheriff wouldn’t take my word in a telegram. I had to come here and identify myself.”

“Why would he take your word that you’re the sheriff of Vengeance Creek?” James asked. “And not take my word that I was a deputy?”

“You’ll have to ask him that,” Shaye said.

After Cardwell’s death the chief of police of Denver had taken the credit in the newspaper for foiling not one bank robbery, but two. He did so without acknowledging Thomas’s part at all. Thomas didn’t care, though. By exchanging telegrams with Ron Hill in Vengeance Creek, he discovered that his father was going to Trinidad to get James out of jail. He and Cory immediately set out for that town.

“I’m kind of sorry they let you out before I got here,” Thomas said across the table to his brother. “That would have been funny to see.”

“Ha, ha,” James said. “Me and Berto didn’t think it was very funny, and him with a bullet wound in his shoulder.”

“How are you, by the way?” Dan Shaye asked Colon.

“Better, Jefe,” Colon said. “Actually, the time allowed me to rest, and heal.”

“Speaking of healin’,” Thomas said to his father, “you shouldn’t be on a horse yet, should you?”

“Well, if one of you four had thought to send me a telegram,” Shaye sad, “I would have known where you were.”

“Sorry, Pa…” James said.

“Si,” Colon said, “sorry, Jefe.”

“So what happened with the other man?” Cory asked. “Jacks, was it?”

Shaye looked at James, who told Cory and Thomas what had happened when he and Colon had ridden into Trinidad that first day.

“Good for you, James,” Thomas said. “You took him.”

“It was just…instinct,” James said. “I didn’t even realize what was happenin’ until after I fired.”

“That’s the way it happens sometimes, James,” Shaye said.

“Maybe you were born for this after all, James,” Thomas said.

Yes, Shaye thought, maybe he was…in fact, maybe both his sons were.

Thomas gave a brief recount of what happened in Denver, bringing his brother and father up to date.

“Well,” Ralph Cory said, “coincidence seems to have had a lot to do with bringin’ this all to a satisfactory end. James and Berto ridin’ in just as Jacks was gettin’ in a shootout; Thomas and me gettin’ to Denver just a day ahead of Cardwell.”

“Maybe not so much coincidence,” Shaye said, “as hard work and determination.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Thomas said, raising his coffee cup.

“So it’s over,” James said.

“It’s over,” Shaye said.

“I’ll drink to that,” Cory said, and lifted his own cup, followed by the others.

“What do we do now, Pa?” James asked.

“We get one night in this fine hotel,” Shaye said, “and then we head home.”

Nobody said a word.

“Ralph?” he said. “You are goin’ back to Vengeance Creek, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think so, Sheriff,” Cory said. “I think I just may…oh, hit the trail for a while. I don’t think I want to get back behind a store counter just yet.”

“Well,” Shaye said, “good luck to you, then. Berto? You comin’ back?”

Rigoberto Colon frowned and said, “It is a very long way to go back, Jefe. Perhaps, if Senor Ralph doesn’t mind, I will ride with him for a while.”

That brought the attention back to Cory.

“Hell, I don’t mind,” Cory said, “except that I think we both make lousy coffee.”

“I will chance it,” Colon said, “if you will, senor.”

“Sure, why not?” Cory looked at the three Shayes. “I guess you boys’ll be ridin’ back to Vengeance Creek without us. At least you’ve got your jobs waitin’ for you there.”

“Well,” Shaye said, “I’ve been thinkin’ about that.”

“About what, Pa?” James asked.

“Our jobs,” Shaye said. “I think I’m about done bein’ the sheriff of Vengeance Creek.”

“Are we done bein’ lawmen, Pa?” James asked.

“I don’t know, James,” Shaye said. “I guess that’ll be up to each of us to decide when we get back there.”

“Why go back at all?” Cory asked.

“We’ve got to tie up some loose ends,” Shaye said, “and bring back the bank’s money,”

“Ah,” Cory said, “loose ends. Life seems full of them, doesn’t it?”

“Speakin’ of which,” Shaye said, “who’s Berto gonna be ridin’ with, Ralph Cory or Dave Macky?”

“I think it might be time for Dave Macky to put in an appearance, again,” Cory/Macky replied. “In fact, I was thinkin’ of hittin’ the trail right away, nice as a night in this hotel sounds. Berto? Can you ride?”

“Si, Senor Ralph—I mean, Senor Dave.” The Mexican stood up. “I can ride.”

“Gents,” Macky said. “Good luck to you.”

“And you,” Shaye said.

The men shook hands all around, and then Macky turned to Thomas.

“Good luck, Thomas,” he said. “It was a pleasure ridin’ with you.”

“You too…Dave. It was a privilege.”

Macky and Colon waved one last time and left the hotel, leaving the three Shaye men at the table, alone.

“Pa?” Thomas said.

“Yes, Thomas?”

“There’s somethin’ I been meanin’ to talk to you about for a long time.”

“Really?” Shaye asked. “Well, there’s another coincidence for you. There’s somethin’ I been meanin’ to talk to you about too.”

James sat back and listened to his brother and father clear the air, hoping that maybe some of the ghosts from the year gone by might soon be gone…or at least laid to rest.

About the Author

ROBERT J. RANDISI is the creator and writer of the popular series The Gunsmith, under the pseudonym “J.R. Roberts.” He has written many other western novels under his own name.