“Yes?” he replied, nervously turning back around.
“Thanks for taking care of my motorcycle guy and all of the others. You do good work for my town. Now show me around here. James and Jason and I want everyone to see us checking on the injured and families.”
“Okay,” replied the doctor. “There are a few in surgery. We were able to get hold of the hospital in Trinidad and had a few of the injured transferred up there. Just temporary, you know.”
“Sure, that’s a good call,” replied the Sheriff, “as long as they come back.”
They stopped in to see Ken, who had his own room for about an hour but now shared it with four others.
“How you holding up, Evel?” asked the Sheriff.
“Oh, you know…” Ken replied groggily. “I still have a few hundred bones to break, but I’m getting a good start on taking the record.” He laughed at his own joke, quickly returning to a less painful, stoic demeanor.
“It was a solid jump,” said the Sheriff.
“I just caught my back tire is all.”
“I know. I saw; we all did. If it hadn’t rained, I think you would have made it. Let’s try again next week.”
“Uh…you’re joking—right, sir?”
Now the Sheriff was laughing. “Yeah, I am. When you get out of here,” he whispered, “you can go home.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I want you on my team and back on the City Council. You will draw a small paycheck from the town fund, like all of my deputies, but we will have you on other projects.”
“How would I get back on the Council now?” asked Ken. “Don’t I need to be voted in?”
“You already were. I’m just reinstating your former position. I need your eyes and ears there. Understand?”
“Yes, sir, I do. What did he think of the chair?” he added quietly, looking over at James across the room.
“He loved it. Even took his son, Billy, for a victory lap in front of everyone!”
“That’s good; I’m happy to hear it.”
“When he’s released, take him home,” the Sheriff told his relieved girlfriend. “I’ll be by to check on him soon.”
* * * *
“You did good with that one,” said James, as they made their way through the hospital. “I guess you now have an empty jailhouse.”
“That I do…for now, at least,” replied the Sheriff. “I was going to get away fishing for a few days with Kate before…well, before all of this happened. Now it’s probably not the best idea.”
“Oh, I don’t know. By the middle of next week, most should be well on their way to recovery. It’s not your fault, you know,” added James. “Those bleachers never carried that kind of weight, and nobody stomps around on them at a rodeo. It was just an accident, tragic as it is.”
“Yes, but it’s my accident on my watch.”
“Thank you also for your tribute to me today, Sheriff,” added James, changing the subject.
“Why, you’re welcome, James. I’m just glad someone appreciates all of the hard work I put into it. Now let’s get a check on the others here and get you gentlemen home to your families.”
* * * *
Jason kept quiet on the way home, holding his question just behind the tip of his tongue. He opened the front gate and let James get settled before locking it back behind the Sheriff.
“All right, Jason. Ask it,” said James, as they met back on the front porch and settled in with the first glass of Scotch they had since James was shot.
“Okay. Why did you thank him for the stuff he did today, mostly for himself?”
“Because he effectively eliminates his competition, as I’m sure you have noticed by now,” replied James. “He is not my friend or yours, and that’s why we keep him close…real close,” he emphasized, patting his chest. “Nothing he did today was for me but he thinks it was, and that’s all that matters for now.
“You and I will volunteer to watch over the town and suggest he take the fishing trip he was planning. If he goes, it won’t be relaxing for him, by any stretch, but when he returns to things just like they were, we will have gained more trust in a few days than we have up to this point, everything accounted for. Now, let’s get some sleep. We’ve got chores in the morning before church.”
* * * *
Both men slept like only an exhausting day can yield, waking to the sunrise coming through the bedroom windows.
Four more died in the night, and all the others were expected to make a recovery of varying degrees over the next days and weeks. All would be honored on Sunday morning at the largest mass the small church of Weston had ever recorded.
“We will have an additional service at the cemetery tomorrow at 3 p.m. for those who have left us for eternal life with our Creator,” announced the pastor at the service.
The Sheriff reluctantly agreed with James’ and Kate’s assurances to leave for a few days the day after the services.
* * * *
Jason brought James’ tractor Monday morning to help dig the cemetery plots and meet with other ranchers. Some on the Council lobbied for one mass grave but were quickly overruled by the Mayor-elect.
“They each deserve a proper resting place,” James directed, not asking for anyone’s agreement.
Most families had lost someone they knew. Once the sting of losses left the forefront of everyone’s minds, the quest began for answers to what happened and how.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Eight
Lake Pueblo State Park
Pueblo, Colorado
The pit fight went about as textbook as Mike imagined it would. One man, seemingly the champion from the night before, or maybe consecutive nights, emerged with his hands in the air after only a few minutes.
Mike waited another ten minutes, as the men he had watched moved from tent to tent, like some kind of check-in. A few fired shots into the air, maybe blowing off steam or keeping the camp fear factor high. The band
