‘‘Where did you learn to shoot like you do?’’
‘‘John, you don’t learn to shoot like I do. A man is born with gun skill. It’s the way his brain connects with his hands and he either has it or he doesn’t. Some men seek to acquire it, but few, if any, are fast enough and sure enough to become named men. Then there’s the matter of courage, to have the guts to stand and fight while other men, just as fast with a gun, are trying to kill you. Unlike gun skill, a man can learn courage, just as a child is taught to speak. And that’s all to the good.’’
McBride gave an awkward little smile. ‘‘Saul, I’m a named man and I’m pretty much scared all the time. As for gun skill, the fight was all over before I even started my draw.’’
‘‘Ah, but you stood your ground and didn’t run away.’’ Remorse slapped McBride on the shoulder. ‘‘That took courage. Good for you, John, because the Lord surely hates a coward.’’ He motioned with his cup toward the three bodies, admiration in his eyes. ‘‘They were top-notch, you know, Reese and the other two. Very sudden with the revolver and steady in the fight.’’
‘‘Were you worried, Saul?’’ McBride asked, his normal smile returning.
The man shook his head. ‘‘Not in the least. They didn’t even come close.’’
McBride helped Remorse load the bodies onto two horses. The lame grulla they unsaddled and let loose.
The sun was at its highest point in the sky when they rode into Rest and Be Thankful. The dusty Main Street and warped, ashen buildings were hammered by heat and there was not a living soul in sight. In the glare of daylight the town was depressing, revealing its ugly flaws like the face of a girl working the line who has just removed the last of her paint as the merciless dawn drives through her window like a lance.
Remorse led the way as they rode past the jail, the only sound in the street the creak of saddle leather. Reese and the Red Rock Kid were draped over the back of the same horse, their hanging heads nodding as if they were holding a conversation in the land of the dead.
‘‘Marshal’s office just ahead,’’ Remorse said, turning in the saddle. He had removed his coat but was still wearing his clergyman’s collar.
‘‘I see it,’’ McBride answered. Someone was watching him. He felt the crawl of their eyes.
Remorse turned his handsome to face the office and drew rein. ‘‘Thad Harlan!’’ he yelled. ‘‘Turn out! I’ve brought in dead.’’
Boot heels thudded on the timber floor inside, the door swung open and Harlan stepped onto the boardwalk. His eyes went from Remorse to McBride, registering first shock and then anger.
‘‘You know me, Harlan,’’ Remorse said. ‘‘I’ve come to collect my due.’’
Harlan looked up and down the empty street, his head moving like a snake on his thin neck; then his cold, basilisk stare settled on McBride. ‘‘This time I’ll hang you for sure,’’ he said. ‘‘Them Meskins who helped you escape are all dead and cursing you in hell.’’
‘‘Thad Harlan, pay mind to me!’’ Remorse did not shout, but his voice carried to every corner of town. ‘‘You will have to step over my body with your rope.’’ The preacher was tense, poised, his steel eyes gleaming under the flat brim of his hat. ‘‘Now, pay the legal bounty on these men or die right where you stand. The choice is yours.’’
Suddenly Harlan looked frightened. ‘‘I know who you are, Reverend. I’ve seen you in nightmares and I’ve always known that one day you would come. But you have no call to threaten me like that. I’ll pay, then you go back to wherever hell it is you come from.’’
Remorse shook his head. ‘‘Oh no, I have too much outstanding business for that. I’ve adopted John McBride as my ward and I’ve promised to help him deal with those who would do him harm. Thad, my list is long . . . Josephine, father and son, Clare O’Neil, Dora Ryan, late of Denver town, and you.’’ He smiled. ‘‘And every outlaw and killer currently residing in this accursed town.’’
‘‘Saul Remorse, even a madman like you can’t kill us all,’’ Harlan said. His mouth was dry, the words rustling like fallen leaves.
‘‘A madman, I? Would a madman give you and the others I’ve mentioned a chance to repent and mend your wicked ways? Would a madman even see a chance for redemption in you, Thad? Think about it, you can spend the rest of your life in prayer and do all kinds of good works or die. It’s such a simple choice to make.’’
‘‘Too late for me, Reverend. The devil’s already slapped his brand on me.’’
‘‘I know, Thad. I can see it smoking on your dirty hide right now.’’
The wind stirred Remorse’s hair and in the street a dust devil spun like a dervish for a moment, then collapsed in a puff of yellow dust.
‘‘All right, when will it be?’’ Harlan asked. ‘‘I want to be ready.’’
‘‘Why rush things, Thad? Later, when I’ve made up my mind to it.’’
‘‘You’ll give me a show?’’
‘‘Yes, Thad. You’ll be standing on your feet and have a gun in your hand.’’
The marshal touched his tongue to his top lip. ‘‘Maybe I’ll shade you. I’m the fastest there is around.’’
‘‘You won’t even come close, Thad.’’ Remorse relaxed, his smile wide. ‘‘Now, on to more pleasant business, between friends as it were. You see who I brought in with me?’’
‘‘I see them, Ben Carney, Steve Pettigrew and Decker Reese. They pulled out of town early this morning.’’
‘‘And their bounties, Thad?’’
‘‘Carney and Pettigrew, five hundred apiece. Reese, six hundred.’’
‘‘Sixteen hundred dollars, a nice, round figure,’’ Remorse said. ‘‘Pay me now, Thad.’’
Harlan shook his head. ‘‘I can’t do it. I don’t keep that kind of money in my office. A sum like that will have to come from the mayor.’’
‘‘Then tell the mayor I expect to be paid within the hour.’’ Without turning his head, Remorse said, ‘‘John, watch my back. Thad is not above shooting a man when his back is turned to him. Are you, Thad?’’
Harlan looked as if he’d been slapped, but said nothing, his cobra eyes glittering.
Remorse swung out of the saddle, and one by one tipped the bodies into the dust of the street. He said to Harlan, ‘‘Their horses, saddles and guns are worth something. Who would that buyer be?’’
‘‘Try Jed Whipple down at the livery,’’ Harlan said. ‘‘He buys horses and guns, sells them to gents in a hurry who have to leave town on business.’’
‘‘Thank you for the advice, Thad,’’ Remorse said. ‘‘We’ll be going now.’’
He gathered up the reins of the horses and started to pull them away from the marshal’s office, but Harlan’s voice stopped him.
‘‘Hey, Reverend! All the talk I’ve heard about you, I expected a man ten foot tall with the devil riding on his shoulder.’’ The lawman grinned under his mustache. ‘‘Up close, you don’t stack up to much. With all that white hair you look kinda like an old school marm lady.’’