“What about Oklahoma City?” Shaye asked.
“I wouldn’t go there,” Thomas said, “unless that’s where I’m supposed to meet my brother.”
“Well, with Aaron coming from South Dakota and Ethan from Texas, I think it’s more likely they’d meet somewhere in Kansas.”
“Kansas City?” Matthew asked, excited at the prospect.
“Too far east,” Shaye said. “Wichita, maybe, or Salina.”
“So we should head for Wichita?” James asked.
“If we guess Wichita and we’re wrong,” Thomas said, “we’re settin’ ourselves back, ain’t we, Pa?”
“There’s no time limit on revenge, Thomas,” Shaye said. “But we won’t commit to Wichita just yet. We got a long way to go, and there’s bound to be more sitings of this gang. Ethan and Aaron Langer are well-known thieves. Somebody’s going to spot them.”
“And they won’t lie to us the way Sam Torrence did, huh, Pa?” Matthew asked.
“Anybody who lies to us,” Shaye said, “who tries to hinder us, Matthew, will have to deal with us. Time to turn in.”
14
They rode into Lawton much the way they had ridden into Vernon—unshaven, unwashed, dirty. The horses were worn-out, and Shaye had decided they’d stay the night to give them—horses and men—a much-needed rest. He thought he might have been pushing them all too hard.
Lawton, Oklahoma, was a small but well-appointed-looking town. It seemed to be dragging itself toward the twentieth century, with streetlights and a trolley that went down the main street. There were some new brick and wood buildings, and the smell of newly cut lumber was in the air, a sure sign of a town that was growing.
They reined in their horses in front of a new-looking hotel called The Lawton House. To Shaye, it was a likely sign that a town was trying to improve itself when one of their hotels had the word “House” in the name—usually connected with the name of the town.
“Thomas, why don’t you and James take the horses to the livery. Matthew and I will get us rooms, and then we’ll go and find some good steaks.”
“Sounds good, Pa.”
Shaye and Matthew dismounted, removed their saddlebags and bedrolls, and handed over their horses. They were entering the hotel lobby as Thomas and James rode off, leading their horses.
“Good afternoon,” the clerk said as Shaye and Matthew approached the front desk. “Welcome to Lawton, gentlemen. Can I get you a room?”
“Two, if you have them,” Shaye said.
“Certainly.” The clerk was in his thirties, well-dressed, short and slightly built, but with an air that said he was much more than just the desk clerk. “How long will you be staying with us?”
“Just overnight, more than likely,” Shaye said.
The man turned the register around, and Shaye filled in the four names. He also took the opportunity to check the register to see if a bunch of men had checked in anytime in the past two weeks. He found nothing. When he turned the book back around, the man handed over two keys, to Rooms 3 and 4.
Shaye had decided that this time, in this town, they wouldn’t ask about the Langer gang as loudly and obviously as they had during their very short stay in Vernon.
“We have a nice little town here,” the clerk said. “You might decide to stay longer.”
“Looks like your little town is growing,” Shaye said, “but we’re really just passing through.”
“Well,” the man said, “maybe next time, then.”
“Are you the owner here?” Shaye asked.
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“Do you have facilities with baths?”
“We certainly do,” the man said. “In the back. How many shall I have drawn for you?”
“There are four of us. Can you accommodate that?”
“We have three tubs,” the clerk said. “I’m sure you can work out the logistics between you.”
“I think we can. Thank you.”
“Will ten minutes do?”
“No,” Shaye said. “I think we’ll eat first. We’re pretty hungry. Do you know where we can get a good steak?”
“Well, I do, but…”
“But what?”
“May I be candid?”
“Please.”
“I really don’t think you’d want to go into a restaurant looking—and smelling—like that.”
Shaye looked at Matthew, then at himself, and said, “You might be right. Ten minutes will work, after all.”
Shaye turned to Matthew and handed him the key to Room 4. “Wait for your brothers outside and give them the key.”
“Yes, Pa…. Pa?”
“Yes, Matthew?”
“We got to take baths again?”
“Yes, Matthew,” Shaye said, “we have to take baths again.”
Thomas and James dismounted and walked all four horses into the livery. The liveryman turned and smiled at them. He was tall and older, in his sixties, and was wiping his gnarled hands on a rag as they entered.
“Help you gents?”
“We’d like to put our horses up for the night, have them rubbed down and fed,” Thomas said.
“I take good care of animals I take into my charge,” the man said, “yes sir.”
“That’s good,” James said. “They need some care.”
The man looked the animals over critically. “Been riding them hard and long, looks like.”
“Some,” Thomas said.
“Well, I’ll give them care and a good night’s rest. How long you plannin’ on leavin’ them with me?”
“Just overnight,” Thomas said.
“Good enough,” the man said with a nod. “They’ll be ready to go in the mornin’.”
“Much obliged,” Thomas said.
“Lawmen, I see,” the man commented, noticing the badges on their shirts.
“That’s right,” Thomas said, “from Texas.”
“A little far from home, ain’tcha?”
“We’re just passin’ through,” Thomas said, remembering his father’s warning not to ask questions.
“Lookin’ fer somebody, are ya?”
“My brother said we’re just passin’ through,” James answered.
“Sure, sure,” the man said. “Well, my name’s Ike. I guess I’ll be seein’ you boys in the mornin’.”
“What do we owe you?” Thomas asked.
“You kin pay me in the mornin’,” Ike said. “If I can’t trust the law, who can I trust, right?”
“Thanks,” James said.
He and Thomas recovered the saddlebags and bedrolls from their saddles, bid Ike good afternoon, and left the livery.
“Too many questions for my taste,” James commented as they left.
“I was thinkin’ the same thing, little brother.”
When they reached the hotel, they found Matthew waiting for them with a key.
“You bunkin’ with Pa tonight?” Thomas asked, accepting the key.
“I guess,” Matthew said with a shrug. “He didn’t say.”
“Might as well,” Thomas said. “You checked in with him.”
“We got to take baths,” Matthew said. “Pa says so.”
“Before we eat?” James asked.
“The hotel clerk said we smelled.”
“You do smell,” Thomas said.
“So do you,” Matthew said.
“I didn’t say I didn’t,” Thomas replied, “I just said you did.”
“You think I smell worse than you?”
“You’re bigger,” James said. “There’s more of you to smell. You smell worse than me ’n’ Thomas put together.”
Matthew lifted an arm and sniffed himself carefully. “I smell fine.”
“Well,” Thomas said, “all I know is, I ain’t usin’ the same tub as you unless I go before you.”
“Man said he got three tubs.”
“As long as I get to one before you fill it with mud,” Thomas said.