“What about a post office?”
Wesley shifted in his saddle to show Lester an open-mouthed sneer. “You looking to settle here, or are you just flapping your lips some more?”
In response to that, Lester took the letter from his pocket and held it up.
It took Wesley a moment, but he finally nodded and turned back around. “Post office is that way,” he said, jabbing a stubby finger toward a row of broken storefronts that looked like gaps in a filthy mouth. “In the back of the dry goods store.”
“I’m going there to mail my letter.”
“What made you want to start writing letters?”
Lester shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “With all that’s happened, I haven’t been talking to the family very much. I don’t know when I’ll be able to write again.”
“You ask me, our family talks too much,” Wesley said. “All them rumors and stories going back and forth.”
Before he could catch himself, Lester spat out, “Like what happened to Matt?”
Wesley looked over at him with an expression that might have come from eating a piece of rotten meat. “Sure.”
Lester nodded and pointed his horse toward the dry goods store down the street. “Well, it’s only a letter. I’ll catch up with you.”
“I’ll be down on Second Street at Smith’s Firearms. Don’t take too long. I’ll be needing the rest of that money Pat gave to ya.”
Lester watched Wesley ride away, and kept watching until his cousin rounded the corner. When he rushed into the dry goods store, he was already out of breath. “This the post office?” he asked the old man behind the counter.
“Yep.”
“Where’s the sack for the mail to be sorted?”
“Just give her here,” the old-timer said as he stretched out a thin, liver-spotted arm. When he didn’t feel anything placed in his hand, the old man stared at Lester and asked, “Do you have something to mail or not?”
“I do, but…”
Staring at the envelope in Lester’s hand, the old man said, “There ain’t no address on that.”
Lester slapped the envelope onto the counter where the old man was sitting. Taking a pencil from his pocket, he quickly scribbled a word onto the envelope and then looked up. “What’s the marshal’s name?”
“Marshal Eaves?”
Nodding, Lester wrote another word on the envelope and handed it over. “I want this delivered to Marshal Eaves, but—”
“You can hand it over yourself. His office isn’t far from here.”
“I know, but I want it delivered. He shouldn’t read it until later.”
“You could have something to eat while you wait.”
Resisting the urge to jump across the counter and throttle the old man, Lester said, “I’m not going to wait. I’ve got things to do. I need this delivered to the marshal a bit later.”
The old man looked at Lester as if he smelled dung stuck to the bottom of his boot. “I was just trying to save you the postage.”
“Here,” Lester said as he took out some of the money Pat had given him to help buy the shotgun and rifle ammunition. “Take this as your fee. Just deliver the letter to the marshal and say it came in today’s mail. Do whatever you need to make the envelope look genuine.”
The old man snatched the money away with a speed that would have been impressive for a fellow half his age. “When do you want the marshal to get it?”
Lester pulled in a breath to steel himself. “Tonight should be fine. Say around five o’clock. No…better make it four.”
“Four it is.” Taking the letter, the old man tossed it onto an empty burlap sack folded on the floor behind him. He then placed both hands flat upon the counter and showed Lester a friendly smile.
Already on his way out the door, Lester shook his head. “That’s all I need. At least, I sure hope it is. It damn well better be.” He was still muttering as he left the store and headed for Smith’s Firearms.
TWENTY-SIX
The tracks took a few meandering turns, but led them toward Hackett. More than once, Nick played with the idea of breaking away from Kinman to do the rest of the tracking on his own, but that would have meant leaving the bounty hunter to his own devices. There were ways to make sure Kinman stayed put, but Nick didn’t want to waste time on following those through. Besides, there was still a bit of time for Kinman to prove himself useful.
Nick could see a good portion of the town as Kinman reined his horse to a stop. They’d been riding a bit quicker than the day before, but not quite up to full speed. Kazys was breathing somewhat heavily, but Kinman’s horse stood by without even shifting its hooves.
“You want to check the town?” Kinman asked.
“Do the tracks lead there?”
“Not as such, but Lester would’ve had to get some supplies and he might not be able to get everything from his cousins.”
“We’re here for Lester, so we’ll follow his tracks,” Nick said. “We’ve come too far to be thrown off the scent now.”
“All right, then.” Kinman shifted so he could look directly at Nick. He crossed one hand over the other as he let out a smooth breath. “Let’s get something straight. If those jewels are there, we’re splitting them right down the middle.”
“We already negotiated this.”
“That’s when I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to find Lester or not. Now that we’re here I want to get all of this out of the way before there’s any commotion.”
Nick’s voice was smooth and even as ice on a freshly frozen pond. “There’s going to be a commotion right here and now if you push this too far.”
“Then let’s get it out of the way,” Kinman declared, while shifting his coat aside so he could better reach his pistol.
“Or I could just follow the marked tracks that lead past that town and head straight to wherever Lester’s holed up.”
Kinman was taken aback, but it didn’t last long. He regained his composure in a heartbeat and actually smiled good-naturedly. “You saw those, huh?”
“Yeah. I saw ’em.”
“Then our original deal stands.”
Nick nodded without moving more than the few muscles required to perform the action. Although the rest of him was still, the muscles were tensed like bowstrings beneath his skin.
Kinman kept still as well.
The next few seconds felt as if the world around them was holding its breath.
“How about we finish up one matter before moving on to the next?” Nick finally said.
“Fine with me.”
To show he was the better man, Nick took his hand away from his holster and placed it casually upon his saddle horn. Kinman did the same.
“If Lester’s still with his cousins, he’ll probably be waiting for us,” Kinman said.
“They’re probably all waiting for us. That is, if they haven’t already moved along by now.”
Kinman craned his neck to look in the direction that the marked tracks led. “Lester’s tired. He’s been running
