ma’am.”
“‘Ma’am’?” Belinda asked. “Don’t you remember who I am, Mr. Shaye?”
“Oh,” James said, releasing her. “Course I do, ma’am. You’re Belinda.”
“And there’s no need to apologize,” she said. “I believe I ran into you.”
“Oh no, ma’am—”
“Please,” she said, “call me Belinda.”
“Uh, Belinda,” he said. “I ran into you. I’m just…clumsy.”
“Well, then,” she said, “if you insist on taking the blame, then you must make it up to me.”
“Ma’am?” he said. “I mean…Belinda?”
“You must let me treat you to supper.”
“Oh, but I couldn’t,” he said, “I’m on duty.”
“Aren’t you to be relieved within the hour?” she asked. “Or have I memorized the wrong schedule?”
“Um, you memorized my schedule?”
“Shamelessly,” she said, “I admit that I did. I heard the sheriff telling his wife.”
“Why would you do that?”
“So that we could have supper together,” she said. “You see, I must talk with you, James. I simply must!”
“Easy, ma—Belinda,” he said, moved by her agitated tone. “Everythin’s gonna be all right.”
“I don’t think so, James,” she said, a single tear rolling down her smooth cheek. “I’m so afraid it won’t. Can’t you…please let me buy you supper and…and talk with me?”
“Well…”
“Oh, I knew you would,” she said, “I knew I could count on you. Do you know the cafe down the street?”
“Yes,” he said, “I was there this mornin’—”
“Please meet me there when you’ve been relieved.”
“Well…all right.”
She grabbed his arm, her strength surprising him.
“Please don’t tell your brother or father,” she said. “They don’t like me or approve of me.”
“That ain’t so—”
“Oh, it is,” she said, “but you’re different. I could tell that from the moment we met.”
“Belinda—”
“Please,” she said, lowering her voice, “don’t tell anyone. Promise!”
“All right,” he said. “I promise.”
She released his arm, said, “Thank you,” and hurried off.
Belinda ran to the other side of the street, stepped into the shadows, and then covered her mouth with both hands and laughed. James Shaye would prove so easy to manipulate, indeed.
James watched her cross the street and lost her in the shadows. He knew he shouldn’t have agreed to meet with her, but there was just no way he could refuse her.
Thomas was to relieve him soon. He thought about breaking his word to Belinda and telling his brother, but in the end decided not to. At least, not until he heard what she had to say.
51
Thomas found James checking doorways a few streets from the sheriff’s office.
“Are you working your way toward or away from the office?” he asked his brother.
“Away,” James said. “Sorry, but I did the other side of the street already.”
“No problem,” Thomas said. “I can use the walk. It’s gettin’ dark, brother. You better get somethin’ to eat and head back to the hotel. You’re gonna need a lot of rest for tomorrow.”
“I was plannin’ on eatin’ anyway,” James said. “I guess Thad’ll be up all night?”
“Yep,” Thomas said. “He says he don’t mind stayin’ up most of the night.”
James was fidgety. He wanted to get over to the cafe before Belinda decided he wasn’t coming and left.
“What’s wrong with you?” Thomas asked, noticing. “You look antsy. You’re not gettin’ nervous, are you?”
“I’m not gettin’ nervous,” James said, slapping his big brother on the back. “I been nervous for a while.”
“Pa would say that makes you a smart man,” Thomas said, “but we already agreed on that, didn’t we?”
“I’ll see you in the mornin’,” James said. “Try not to wake me when you come in.”
“I’ll walk soft,” Thomas promised.
James entered the cafe. It was open late and Belinda was the only customer. She was talking with the waitress when he approached the table.
“This the fella?” the waitress asked.
“This is him, Connie,” Belinda said, “and he looks hungry.”
“You were in here this morning, weren’t you?” the middle-aged woman asked. “With two others?”
“My father and brother.”
“You had steak and eggs. Ready for a steak tonight?”
“Sure,” James said. “Thanks.”
“Sit down, I’ll bring some coffee. Belinda?”
“Just coffee and a piece of pie, Connie.”
Connie nodded and went to the kitchen. James sat down across from Belinda, placing his hat on an adjacent chair.
“Thank you for coming,” she said.
“Somehow it didn’t seem right not to.”
“James,” she asked, “do you believe that Little Matt is your brother Matthew’s son?”
“I—I just ain’t sure, Belinda. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right,” she said. “I knew it would be a hard sell if your pa didn’t recognize the resemblance right off.”
“The only resemblance any of us can see is the baby’s size,” James said. “He’s a big boy.”
“That he is.”
“What about this other man, Jeb Collier?”
“What about him?” she asked. “He’s no good. He’s a thief and a liar. They should have kept him in Yuma Prison.”
“What I meant was,” James said, “was he a big man?”
“Are you asking me if Jeb Collier is really my son’s father?” she asked.
“I guess I’m askin’ if there’s a chance.”
She frowned and looked away.
“You’re not sure, are you, Belinda?” James asked. “You’re not sure who the father is.”
Belinda looked across the table at James. Already this conversation was not going as planned. She didn’t want to think of Jeb Collier as her baby’s father. She wanted to steer the conversation in a direction that would benefit her.
Connie came out of the kitchen carrying a large plate and a smaller one. She set them down and then went back for the pot of coffee and two cups.
“Thank you,” James said.
“You folks take your time eatin’,” Connie said, “I’m just gonna close the kitchen down.”
“Thanks, Connie.”
She went back to the kitchen and James cut into his steak. Belinda thought that maybe Connie’s interruption would help her get the conversation back on the right track.
“The only thing I know about Jeb Collier is that he’s coming here and he’s going to bring trouble. I need protection.”
