He’d been staring down at the saddlebags, observing the way they were buckled. It wouldn’t be too hard to unbuckle them—maybe just on one side—and take a peek at the money. He had to admit he really wanted a looksee. Now that nobody was watching him he could just reach down and undo one buckle.
He decided to try it. He kept a cup of coffee in one hand and slid the other hand down along his leg. When he reached one of the saddlebags, he slowly undid one buckle. He figured he could lift one end of the flap and just take a quick look inside with no one being the wiser.
When he got the buckle undone he looked over at the other men to be sure they were still not looking his way. Satisfied that he had gone undetected this far, he looked down, lifted one side of the flap, and took a look inside.
He was not at all prepared for what he saw.
When Ethan Langer rode back into camp, he was not in a good mood. He had not gotten what he wanted from his brother the priest, and so had wasted time bringing himself and his men to Oklahoma City. He should have shot up that damn church, he thought, that’s what he should have done. Maybe that would have made him feel better.
But that would not have done anything for his dreams. Could Vincent have been right? Would this woman never stop haunting his dreams? Was he never to have a good night’s sleep again?
When he rode into camp, all the men looked up at him, but he ignored them and rode by. He dismounted and began to unsaddle his horse when Terry Petry came over.
“Ethan we gotta talk.”
“About what?”
“About the money.”
“What about it, Terry?”
“Well…”
Ethan turned away from his horse and looked at Terry Petry. “You looked, didn’t you?” he asked.
“I—”
“You looked in the saddlebags.”
“I—uh, just one.”
“And what did you see?”
“Nothin’!” Petry said. “I mean, there ain’t no money in them, just some rocks and stuff.”
“To make them heavy,” Ethan said, “and to make them look nice and full.”
“But Ethan…where’s the money?”
Ethan went back to caring for his horse. “I hid it.”
“Where?”
“If I told you that,” Ethan said, “then it wouldn’t be hid anymore, would it?”
“But…why?”
“To test you,” Ethan said, “and to test the other men. Did any of them look in it?”
“No,” Petry said, “they wanted to, but I didn’t let them.”
“That was good.”
“I know—”
“But you looked in the saddlebags,” Ethan said, finished with his horse and turning to look at Petry.
“Well, I—uh, yeah, I just, uh, lifted one flap of one saddlebag and sort of…peeked.”
“That was bad, Terry.”
“Why?”
“’Cause that means that while I can trust the rest of the men,” Ethan said, “I can’t trust you, and you’re my second in command. You’re the one I’m supposed to be able to trust.”
“Well, I, uh, just wanted to make sure the, uh, money was all there—” Petry started.
“Why, Terry?” Ethan asked, cutting him off. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I, uh—”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Well, sure—”
“So you trust me,” Ethan said, “and I trust the rest of the men. Seems the only one around here who ain’t trustworthy is you.”
Plus he was going to keep on having these dreams about the dead woman until who knew when? Since he hadn’t shot up the church—and he couldn’t very well shoot his own brother, whether he was a priest or not—he did the next best thing in order to blow off the steam that was building inside of him.
He drew his gun and shot Terry Petry dead.
33
When Shaye and his sons camped that night, the three boys were quiet. Shaye was quiet as well. He assumed they were all spending some time with their own thoughts.
In the past few days or so he’d done a piss-poor job of answering his sons’ questions. Now, their mother, she knew how to answer them when they had questions. She was able to satisfy them with her answers, set aside whatever fears they had, and make them feel better.
He felt sorely lacking in that area.
The boys were probably now convinced that he was some kind of amoral ex-outlaw who was going to turn to murder to achieve his goal. One man’s murder, though, was another man’s justice. Was that something he’d be able to make the three boys understand when the time came?
Perhaps it was time to give them an opportunity to change their minds. Now that they knew what he was planning, maybe they wouldn’t be so eager to follow him anymore.
He decided the only way to find out was to ask them. They were, after all—as he had told Matthew—grown men, with their own minds to make up.
He waited until they were seated around the campfire, finished eating and drinking coffee.
“I want to talk to you boys about something,” he said.
“What’s that, Pa?”
“Since we left Epitaph, you boys have found out some things you didn’t know before.”
“What kind of things, Pa?” Matthew asked.
“Things about me,” Shaye said. “About the man I used to be, and about what I plan to do when we finally catch up to the Langer gang.”
“Pa,” Thomas said, “we knew when we left town what we were going to do when we found them.”
“But you didn’t know that the law might look at it as murder.”
“Well…no…” Thomas said.
“Now that you know,” Shaye said, “I think you three should be offered the opportunity to make up your own minds.”
“About what, Pa?” James asked. “Specifically?”
“About whether or not to continue with me,” Shaye said. “I’m offering you the opportunity to turn back if you want to.”
“Turn back?” James asked.
“And go where?” Thomas asked. “To Epitaph?”
“Well—”
“There’s nothin’ for us in Epitaph, Pa,” Thomas said. “Ma’s dead. The only family we have is you, and we’re stayin’ with you—at least, I’m stayin’ with you. You’re givin’ us the chance to make up our own minds, so I’ve made my decision.”
Shaye looked at his middle son. “Matthew?”
“I’m stayin’ with you, Pa.”
“James?”
“Me too,” the younger brother said. “No question.”
“Boys…there’s a possibility that the law might come after you too.”
“We’ll be ready for them, Pa,” Thomas said.
“We got a right to avenge our mother,” James said, “and your wife. Do any of us doubt that?”
Matthew and Thomas both shook their heads no. There was no doubt whatsoever.
“We’ll deal with that when the time comes, Pa,” Thomas said. “We got somethin’ to do, and we’re gonna do it.”
“With you,” Matthew said. “Where you go, we go, and what you do, we’re gonna do.”
Well, there was some doubt about that in Shaye’s mind, but what he said was, “Thank you, boys.”
“You don’t gotta thank us, Pa,” Matthew said. “She was our ma.”
Thomas and James nodded their agreement.
“You’re good—” Shaye stopped himself. “I was just going to say that you’re good boys, but that’s wrong. The three of you are all good men now.”
“You and Ma did a good job raisin’ us, Pa,” Thomas said.
“Your mother did all the work.”
“Not true, Pa,” Thomas said. “Maybe she was home all the time and you weren’t, but we learned a lot from you, just from watchin’ you…just from the kind of man you are.”