They look to Evan. “It’s true. Roy had no choice.”
“I told Noble,” I continue, “and he says to bury Jack near the foothills, so I’ll do that. I’m not sorry for what I did. A man draws down, he best be ready for a fight.”
Wade’s eyes are fixed on me and I can almost hear the wheels turn up top, because he then looks to Evan, then me, then back to Evan. And he says nothing, just goes to the house. The others follow and Harry slaps me on the back as he passes.
“Get me a shovel from the barn,” I tell Evan. “I’ll saddle my horse.”
“Saddle two. I’ll help.”
“No need, Evan. I did it, I should pay.”
“Quit blaming yourself. Jack was in the wrong, and besides, it’ll take you all night to dig the hole, so I’m helping.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
We throw Jack over a horse and walk him up to where Noble says to bury him. Night is coming on when we start digging, but I note a full moon rising and am grateful for this small thing. Evan and me work in silence, digging deep like Noble wants. The moon is high and we’re a sweaty mess when we drop Jack in. I know something should be said over him, but my only thought is “good riddance,” so I keep quiet.
“Bye, Jack,” Evan says. “Thanks for helping me.”
I don’t mind throwing dirt on Jack. The spell that overtook me on Noble’s porch has gone, chased off by hard work.
Back in the saddle, I tell Evan I want to wash up, but not where we usually go. We ride to where the river comes onto the property, and once there, take off shirts and clean up. Most times, doing this around Evan would lead to something, but not now. I find myself seized by darkness, dreading the light of day. Once washed, we dress and head to the barn, bed down the horses, then hit the cabin, where all are asleep. We join them and I welcome dozing off.
* * * *
Next day, it’s like Jack never was. The men rise to growl and grumble like always, nobody taking much note on Jack’s bed being empty. He could be off drunk somewhere or down to the river, for all they care. I turn to Evan, who I find watching me. I can’t make out how he feels about events and hope he’s not waiting on me to tell him what for, because at this point, I have no idea. I dress like the others, enjoy a trip to the privy, then walk to breakfast. I decide it’s a fine day, likely to warm considerably.
Breakfast passes as usual and I eat a lot, having missed supper night before. As I shovel in food, it occurs to me I’m eating regular, when yesterday I killed a man with the same hands now working knife and fork. I pause to let this play over me, allowing it my due, then finish the meal.
As there’s no horse work to do and Noble asks no other chores of us, we go our separate ways after breakfast. Some head for the river, where there are good spots under the trees to sleep off the meal. Others return to the cabin, though a couple remain on the porch. I go in, as do Wade and Evan. I stretch out on my bed, while Evan sits on his bunk to clean his gun. Wade pulls Jack’s things from under his bed and starts going through them. There’s a worn satchel and a box, plus saddlebags hanging on a peg above the bed. Wade pulls out clothes, an old pistol, and Jack’s money, which he counts.
“How much?” I ask.
“Four hundred two. We’ll split it.”
“What about his stuff?”
“Take what you want.”
I can’t read Wade’s attitude on my killing Jack. He acts like nothing is wrong while he counts out seven stacks, acting like it’s loot just taken. I glance at Evan, who keeps his head down, polishing his gun to excess. I wish some of the other fellows would come in, but none do, and the cabin starts feeling hot when I know it’s not. I want to get up and go outside, maybe ride somewhere, maybe go up to Baggs, Wyoming, where they welcome outlaw trade. Get drunk and stay that way. I can almost feel the liquor in my gut, but I stay put, shut my eyes to it all.
“Well, look there,” Wade says.
I don’t want to look, but I do. So does Evan. I see Wade holding up a badge he’s taken from Jack’s satchel.
“U.S. Marshal,” Wade says. “Don’t that beat all. Think he was a lawman once?”
“Doubt it,” I say. “Probably took it off a fellow he killed.”
“Might come in handy,” Wade declares, putting the thing into his pocket.
Once everything is gone through, Wade leaves the pile on Jack’s bed and I stare at it, thinking how a man has disappeared. Here yesterday, gone today, and how quick it was. Killing Jack took less time than Wade going through his things.
Silence fills the cabin until Wade, taking up the whiskey bottle, says he thinks we should do another job. “We was talking on the bank in Lovell, remember? Back before Evan brought us Kettner.”
“Why so soon?” I ask. “You out of money? I’m not.”
Wade takes a long swig of liquor, pauses, takes another, then replies, “No, I’m not out of money, but there’s more reason than that. It’s what we do and I’m feeling Lovell is ripe.”
“Banks are always ripe.”
“You saying you’re not with me?”
“No, I’m saying there’s no hurry.”
Wade’s color is coming up. He takes one more drink of whiskey, looks at Evan, then says to me, “Let’s talk outside.”
“Fair enough.” I follow him out and we walk over by one of the corrals. Nobody’s around. “What’s eating you?”
