Whipple nodded. ‘‘I got the preacher to thank for that. He does a powerful blessin’ and that’s a natural fact.’’
Remorse led his gray into the barn just before noon and rousted McBride out of a stall where he’d been sleeping. When the big man had climbed groggily to his feet, the reverend replaced him with his horse, then said, ‘‘Want to give me a rundown, John?’’
McBride repeated what Whipple had told him, including the death of Stillwater Jack Quinlan and the unfortunate injuries sustained by Hester and Anderson.
‘‘So the rats are bolting their hole?’’ he said, throwing his saddle onto the stall divider.
‘‘Seems like.’’
‘‘Harlan?’’
McBride shook his head.
‘‘Be on your guard, John. He’ll be looking for you and after he finds you he’ll come for me.’’
‘‘He won’t need to look hard. I’ll go where he’ll be waiting. Tonight.’’
‘‘Want me to come along?’’
‘‘No, Saul. This is between me and Harlan.’’
Remorse leaned his elbow on the divider. For the first time since they’d met, McBride thought the man seemed tired. And he looked older. ‘‘He’s faster with the iron than you, John,’’ he said. ‘‘Think about that.’’
‘‘I will, but I’ll wait until dark before I start fretting over it.’’
It took a few moments, but Remorse said finally, ‘‘Just so you know that the offer stands. If you want me to tag along, you only have to say the word.’’
McBride nodded. ‘‘I appreciate that, Saul, but I owe Thad Harlan. It’s something I have to do myself.’’
‘‘So be it, then.’’ Remorse patted his flat stomach. ‘‘I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.’’
Whipple stepped out of his office and stopped the two men at the livery door.
‘‘Reverend,’’ he said, ‘‘your blessin’ me an’ all worked. Them Rangers left me alone, didn’t even ask where I’d come from or nothin’.’’
Remorse placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder. ‘‘Jed, they recognized the glow of heavenly purity in you. I’ll wager they said among themselves, ‘There goes a man who has done more than his share of everything that’s wicked in this world, but now he keeps to the righteous path. We will leave him in peace.’ ’’
‘‘Damn right,’’ Whipple said, pleased. ‘‘I ain’t wicked no more, at least no more’n most folks.’’
‘‘Jed, you are a shining example to us all,’’ Remorse said. ‘‘Keep up the good work.’’
As Whipple stood in the doorway of the stable, doing his level best to look saintly, McBride and Remorse left for the Kip and Kettle restaurant. ‘‘Soon to be under new management,’’ Remorse noted as they stepped inside.
The only other customers were a couple of Rangers, stragglers since the others had already left. McBride felt hard eyes on him as he and Remorse sat at a table and ordered coffee, bacon and eggs.
The waitress poured them both coffee, then left to place their order. One of the lawmen began to rise from his chair. He was a gangly, loose-limbed man who seemed to get up piece by piece, then reassemble himself when he reached his feet. He walked to McBride’s table, his spurs ringing.
‘‘Howdy, boys,’’ he said, little friendliness in his greeting. Then he saw Remorse’s clerical collar, his guns hidden by his slicker. Surprised, he touched the brim of his hat. ‘‘Reverend.’’
‘‘What can we do for you, my son?’’ Remorse asked.
The collar had changed the Ranger’s attitude. Now he smiled under his sweeping mustache as he said, ‘‘Not much work for you in this town, Reverend. The outlaws skedaddled out of here so fast they cut holes in the wind.’’
‘‘So we heard from the gentleman who owns the livery stable,’’ Remorse said.
‘‘Course, the girls are left,’’ the Ranger said. ‘‘Plenty of preaching to be done there.’’
‘‘Indeed,’’ Remorse said. ‘‘I believe my words will soon be falling on fertile ground.’’
‘‘Amen, brother.’’ The Ranger’s eyes moved and held on McBride, but he spoke to Remorse. ‘‘This man your assistant?’’
‘‘Yes, he is, and a more pious and gentle soul you’ll never meet.’’
‘‘Is that right?’’ the Ranger said. ‘‘He sure don’t look it.’’ He took a step back from the table as the waitress brought the food. ‘‘Just be careful while you’re here, Reverend,’’ he said. ‘‘There might be a few bad ones still skulking around who would seek to do harm to a man of the cloth.’’
‘‘The Lord shall be my sword and shield,’’ Remorse said.
‘‘Yeah, well, maybe you should have your assistant there carry a club. Remember, outlaws prey on the innocent and defenseless like your good self.’’
‘‘Thank you for your kind consideration,’’ Remorse said. ‘‘And from now on I’ll make sure my assistant carries a stout stick with him at all times.’’
McBride was amazed that through it all Remorse had kept a straight face.
The rain settled into a dank, depressing drizzle, and a numbed silence settled over the town of Rest and Be Thankful. McBride and Remorse shared rocking chairs under the front porch of the Jas. Wilkie & Sons General Store, watching the empty street.
Down at the Sideboard Saloon a forlorn red-haired girl in a blue dress stood just outside the batwing doors. She stepped onto the boardwalk, glanced up at the gray sky and went back inside. The wind gusted, creaking the painted sign above McBride’s head, then lost interest and died away to nothing. Black shadows stretched everywhere, staining the backdrop of a gloomy day and a gloomier town.
‘‘Your cat didn’t come out to see you at the stable,’’ Remorse said. He sounded bored.
‘‘I guess he figures he’s got more important things to do.’’
‘‘Oh, like what?’’
‘‘Catch rats. Whipple says he’s the greatest rat-catching cat of all time.’’
‘‘He’s pissant size. He’s too small to catch a rat.’’
‘‘He’s game, though, and that makes up for his size. At least that’s what Whipple says.’’
‘‘Really?’’ Remorse said. ‘‘Isn’t that interesting?’’ His tone of voice told McBride that the man didn’t find the cat’s derring-do interesting in the least. He was trying to make small talk. The serious words would come later. When it got dark.
Remorse looked around him as he built a cigarette. ‘‘The town is dying around us. I can feel it.’’
‘‘What will happen to it, you think?’’ McBride asked.
‘‘Six months from now it will be a ghost town and only ghost people will remain here. Six years from now the buildings will start to fall down. Eventually all that will remain will be a few grassy mounds and some rusted scraps of iron. People will ride by and never know a town once stood here.’’