Whiskey Flats was as dead as a cemetery. The saloon had closed, and the streets were deserted. I had rented the buckboard for the day, so I was obliged to take it direct to the livery. I figured to leave it parked out front and take the team into the corral, but no sooner had I brought it to a stop than one of the big double doors opened and out limped the livery owner.
I figured he would be mad. “Sorry it’s so late,” I apologized. “I lost my way in the dark.”
Anyone else, he likely would have lit into like an angry rooster. But to me he said, “That’s all right, Parson. I won’t hold it against you.”
Just like that, he took it off my hands and I was free to head for Calista’s. She gave all her boarders a key, so soon I was in my room on the second floor, lying on my bed and wondering what in hell I was going to do if the finger of guilt was pointed at me. I could still finish the job, but there would be complications.
I fell asleep fully dressed. My last thoughts were of the Butchers, and how nice they were, and of Daisy.
I awoke at eight, famished. I used the outhouse, then went around front to the restaurant. The buzz of talk stopped when I entered. Right away I looked down at myself, afraid I had blood on my clothes and did not know it, but no, my clothes were fine. I smiled and nodded at the townspeople and a pair of cowboys as I angled to a corner table and sat with my back to the wall.
“How did your visit go?” Calista was as fresh and as pretty as a rose in full bloom and smelled just as nice.
“It went fine. Hannah asked me to have a word with the Tanners on her family’s behalf.”
“That’s fine. I’m sure you can nip this in the bud. I like Hannah and Gerty, both, and it would be a shame to have them at each other’s throats.”
For breakfast I had six eggs, four sizzling strips of bacon, toast smothered in jam, and enough coffee to drown a moose. I took my time. As I was draining my last cup, several cowboys came in, spoke in soft tones to the pair already there, and all five hurried out.
So Hank and his friends were already missed.
I paid and strolled about town, smiling and doffing my hat to the ladies. In the afternoon I played billiards. I kept an eye to the west, but the cowboys did not return.
It was pushing six o’clock, and I had just sat down in the restaurant to have my supper, when a commotion drew me and everyone else outside.
The five cowboys were back, four of them with bodies wrapped in blankets over the backs of their horses. They had not dismounted.
“Who did it?” I heard a townsman ask.
“How did it happen, George?” asked another.
The cowpoke he had addressed was grinding his teeth in anger. “Who do you reckon is to blame?” he snapped. “Who else but those stinking, no-good, cattle-rustling trash, the Butchers!”
“Do you have proof?” a woman wanted to know.
George pointed at a body. “What more proof do you need? Mrs. Tanner sent Hank and these others to hunt for missing cows on the Dark Sister. The Butchers live there, don’t they?”
“What about Injuns?” someone suggested.
“Would Injuns have covered the bodies with rocks? Would Injuns have left the scalps?”
George had an answer for everything, and I could see he was convincing most of the crowd. I had not counted on this. It could be a lynch party would form, and they would ride out to the Butcher place and decorate the woods with human fruit. In which case I would not be paid.
Raising my arms, I moved out into the street. “Brothers! Sisters! I beg you, judge not! We must not be rash.”
“Stay out of this, Parson,” George said.
“That’s no way to talk to a man of the Lord,” a woman objected, and received support from others.
I put my hand on George’s boot. “I understand your anger, brother. I understand your grief.”
He balled his fists, but did not strike me. “Then you won’t hold it against us if we ride to the LT, gather up the rest of the hands, and do to the Butchers what should have been done months ago.”
“Now, now,” I said. “By all means, take the bodies to the ranch. But there will be no vigilante justice. Not while I am here.”
“This doesn’t concern you,” George said.
“ ‘Thou shalt not kill,’ ” I quoted. “I have a right to speak on the Lord’s behalf to save you from perdition.”
“Oh, hell,” George said.
The other cowboys grumbled, but I was having an effect. I pressed on. “Advise Mr. and Mrs. Tanner that I will be out to the LT tomorrow at noon to conduct services. I expect everyone on the ranch to attend.”
I pumped the hand of each cowboy in a show of brotherliness. As they rode off, Calista’s shoulder brushed mine.
“That was a good thing you just did. Hanging the Butchers would be wrong.”
“Someone should ride out and warn them.” Even as I said it, I was plotting ahead. Luck had placed a fine opportunity in my lap.
“I would go, but I have no one to look after things,” Calista said.
Neither could I. Not and be back in time for the funeral at the LT. I mentioned as much.
“I know a boy I can hire to ride out.”
That settled, I ate supper. The restaurant filled, and all anyone talked about was the murders. Whiskey Flats had not seen this much excitement since the town was founded.
I was in good spirits. Another twenty-four hours and I could start doing what I was being paid to do. I went for a walk and put on quite a show; I had a pleasant greeting for everyone I met. The townsfolk were right friendly. It occurred to me that I could start up a church if I was of a mind to and live out the rest of my days in ease and peace. I wouldn’t ever get rich, but I wouldn’t die of lead poisoning, either, a not-so-rare fate for Regulators.
Yes, sir, I was feeling downright capital, as those gents from London say, when I returned to my room. I planned to turn in early and head out to the LT in the morning. But I wasn’t counting on finding someone perched in the chair by the window.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Daisy Butcher said. “Calista let me in. Snuck me in, is more like it, since I didn’t dare let myself be seen. My family isn’t exactly popular right now.”
“You’ve heard about the four cowboys who were shot?”
Daisy nodded and rose, careful now to let herself be glimpsed from below. “Calista told me. But I will swear on the Bible, if you want, that me and mine had nothing to do with it.”
“Everyone else thinks otherwise.”
“It’s not right, them accusing us of something we didn’t do,” Daisy said sadly. “They’d blame us for flies and measles and gout if they could.”
I was about to take her in my arms and console her when I noticed my bedroll and saddlebags poking from under the end of the bed. Yet I distinctly recalled sliding them all the way under. Despite the lingering heat of the day, a chill seized me. “How long have you been waiting?”
“No more than fifteen minutes.” The top of her head came only as high as my chin, and she had to tilt her head back to look me in the eyes. “Ma sent me with a message. Me and Tyrel and Clell.”
Disappointed, I asked, “Where are they?”
“Over behind the livery. The man who owns it is our friend. It was him who warned us when we rode in that we were in danger of being strung up on sight.”
My fingers tingling, I sat on the edge of the bed. “What is so important your ma couldn’t wait?”
“It’s about the meeting with the Tanners. She wants it to be the day after tomorrow at one in the afternoon, right here in town.” Daisy bit her lower lip in thought. “But I reckon that can’t be now, can it?”