child.”
“Matthew,” Cotton said.
“What?” James asked.
“His name is Matthew,” Cotton said. “We call him Little Matt.”
Shaye exchanged glances with his sons.
“Yes, I know,” Cotton said. “Your other son’s name was Matthew.”
“Sheriff—”
“Okay, here it is,” Cotton said. “She’ll see you, Mr. Shaye, and only you, and the meeting will take place at my house.”
“Wait,” Thomas said, “why not us?”
“Maybe later,” Cotton said. “All three of you at once would be overwhelming.” He looked directly at Shaye. “Surely you can see that.”
Shaye hesitated, then said, “Yes, I can. All right, I agree.”
“Pa—”
“Don’t worry, Thomas,” Shaye said. “After all, it was to me she sent the letter.” He looked at Cotton. “What other conditions?”
“Either I or my wife also has to be present,” Cotton said. “But not the boy. Not yet.”
“I want to see the boy,” Shaye said. “I’ll be able to tell if he’s Matthew’s.”
Again, Cotton said, “Maybe later. Belinda wants to see you first, Mr. Shaye.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow, around noon.”
“Why not tonight?” James asked.
Cotton looked at James. “I’m doin’ this the way Belinda wants to do it, sir.”
“What’s her relation to you, Sheriff?” Thomas asked.
“None.”
“Then why does she live with you and your missus?”
“She needed help,” Cotton said. “And she had a child. My wife is not the sort of person who could ignore that.”
“She sounds like a fine woman,” Shaye said.
“Thank you for sayin’ that,” Cotton replied. “She is.”
“All right, Sheriff,” Shaye said, getting to his feet. “We’ll do this your way—the girl’s way.”
“Come by here tomorrow at eleven forty-five and I’ll walk you over to my house,” Cotton said.
“I’ll be here.”
“Meanwhile,” Cotton said, also standing, “I’d appreciate it if you and your boys could stay out of trouble while you’re in town.”
“We always do our best to avoid trouble, Sheriff,” Shaye said. “It’s just not always our choice.”
“Just your word on behalf of you and your boys that you’ll try is fine with me,” Cotton said.
“You have it.”
“Good enough. See you tomorrow, then.”
Shaye nodded and led his sons out on to the street.
21
They spent the evening drinking in the Wagon Wheel and trying to stay out of trouble. Thomas got a deck of cards from the bartender and they played three-handed poker for pennies, turning away any who wanted to join them.
“Family game,” Shaye told them.
While playing, they talked over the day’s events and what tomorrow might bring.
“I think we should go together to see her,” James said. “We’re all entitled.”
“Maybe we are,” Shaye said, “but the sheriff has a point. Facing the three of us at once would be too overwhelming for her.”
“What if she’s not so easily overwhelmed?” Thomas asked. “I’ll take two cards.”
“What?” James asked.
“What if she’s puttin’ on an act,” Thomas said. “Conning us.”
“You think she’s a con woman?” James asked. “That her child is not really Matthew’s?”
Thomas shrugged.
James said, “One card.”
“And is she foolin’ the sheriff too?” Shaye asked. “Dealer takes one.”
“Maybe.”
“Let me ask you this, Thomas,” Shaye said. “If she wanted to con someone, why not pick a family with more money? Why us?”
“Our name?”
“Our name?” Shaye asked. “Up until two years ago, no one outside of Epitaph knew who we were.”
“They knew who you were,” James said. “In Missouri.”
“Knew who I was,” Shaye said. “But no one knew who the Shayes were.”
“Until we tracked down the Langer gang and made a name for ourselves,” Thomas said.
“Why would she want to be a part of that kind of name?” Shaye asked.
Thomas and James didn’t have an answer.
“Well,” Shaye said, ”I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.” He slapped his cards down. “I’ve got aces full.”
Shaye turned in before his sons. They chose to stay at the Wagon Wheel until closing.
“Remember what the sheriff said, boys,” Shaye told them. “Stay out of trouble.”
“We will, Pa,” James promised.
Shaye returned to the hotel while Thomas and James continued to play penny-ante poker, two-handed.
About an hour before closing, three men came into the saloon and stopped just inside the door, looking around. Thomas noticed them, James did not. Eventually, they walked to the bar and ordered three beers.
“Thomas?”
“What?”
“How many cards?”
“Oh,” Thomas said. “Uh, one.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“We’re bein’ watched.”
“By who?” James was smart enough not to turn around immediately.
“Three men, at the bar.”
“Are they from that other saloon?” James asked.
Thomas hadn’t thought of that.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t remember everyone from this afternoon.”
“Well, what are they doin’?”
“Drinkin’ beer, watchin’ us,” Thomas said.
“They wearin’ guns?”
“Yes.”
“What should we do?”
“I know what I’m gonna do,” Thomas said.
“What?”
Thomas smiled. “I’m gonna bet three cents.”
“Three more,” one of the men at the bar said.
“We’re gonna be closin’ soon,” the barman said.
“We’ll drink ’em fast,” the man said. “Three more.”
