“What if she’s not so easily overwhelmed?” Thomas asked. “I’ll take two cards.”
“What?” James asked.
“What if she’s puttin’ on an act,” Thomas said. “Conning us.”
“You think she’s a con woman?” James asked. “That her child is not really Matthew’s?”
Thomas shrugged.
James said, “One card.”
“And is she foolin’ the sheriff too?” Shaye asked. “Dealer takes one.”
“Maybe.”
“Let me ask you this, Thomas,” Shaye said. “If she wanted to con someone, why not pick a family with more money? Why us?”
“Our name?”
“Our name?” Shaye asked. “Up until two years ago, no one outside of Epitaph knew who we were.”
“They knew who you were,” James said. “In Missouri.”
“Knew who I was,” Shaye said. “But no one knew who the Shayes were.”
“Until we tracked down the Langer gang and made a name for ourselves,” Thomas said.
“Why would she want to be a part of that kind of name?” Shaye asked.
Thomas and James didn’t have an answer.
“Well,” Shaye said, ”I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.” He slapped his cards down. “I’ve got aces full.”
Shaye turned in before his sons. They chose to stay at the Wagon Wheel until closing.
“Remember what the sheriff said, boys,” Shaye told them. “Stay out of trouble.”
“We will, Pa,” James promised.
Shaye returned to the hotel while Thomas and James continued to play penny-ante poker, two-handed.
About an hour before closing, three men came into the saloon and stopped just inside the door, looking around. Thomas noticed them, James did not. Eventually, they walked to the bar and ordered three beers.
“Thomas?”
“What?”
“How many cards?”
“Oh,” Thomas said. “Uh, one.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“We’re bein’ watched.”
“By who?” James was smart enough not to turn around immediately.
“Three men, at the bar.”
“Are they from that other saloon?” James asked.
Thomas hadn’t thought of that.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t remember everyone from this afternoon.”
“Well, what are they doin’?”
“Drinkin’ beer, watchin’ us,” Thomas said.
“They wearin’ guns?”
“Yes.”
“What should we do?”
“I know what I’m gonna do,” Thomas said.
“What?”
Thomas smiled. “I’m gonna bet three cents.”
“Three more,” one of the men at the bar said.
“We’re gonna be closin’ soon,” the barman said.
“We’ll drink ’em fast,” the man said. “Three more.”
The bartender shook his head and served them three more beers. Aside from these three men and the Shaye brothers, there were only a couple of other men in the place and they both had their heads down: one on a table, and one on the bar.
“Them those Shaye boys?” the man asked.
“Why do you want to know?” the bartender asked.
“We’re just curious.”
The bartender looked at the three men. He knew them. They worked for one of the larger ranches in the area, the Bar-K. He didn’t know their names, but he recognized their faces. They came into the saloon a few times a month, usually to start trouble. The spokesman was named Cobb and the other two were…Martin and…Franks, he thought. Or was it Frank something?
“We just heard they was in town,” Joe Cobb said. “Wanted to take a look, didn’t we, boys?”
“Sure did,” Harley Franks said and Kel Martin just nodded.
“You boys better finish your beers and move on,” the bartender said. “I don’t want no trouble here.”
“We’ll leave when we’re ready,” Cobb said. “Why don’t you go back to work?”
The bartender stood there for a moment, then moved down the bar to wake up a sleeping drunk.
22
“They don’t look like so much,” Cobb said to his buddies.
“Wonder where the ol’ man is?” Franks said.
“We better finish these beers,” Martin said.
The other two men looked at him.
“The bartender’s gotta close up.”
“Shut up, Kel,” Cobb said. “He’ll close up after we drink up and leave.”
“What are we gonna do, Joe?” Franks said.
“I dunno,” Cobb said.
“We just wanted to get a look at them,” Franks said. “We done that. Let’s get back to the ranch.”
They’d been drinking at several of the other saloons in town, then heard from somebody that Dan Shaye and his sons were in town and in the Wagon Wheel. Franks was right. The only plan they’d had was to get a look at the Shayes.
“But what fun would that be?” Cobb asked.
Thomas watched the bartender wake the two sleeping drunks and get rid of them. That left only him and James—and the three men at the bar.
“Closin’ up, you fellas,” the barman said, coming over to their table.
“Fine,” James said. “We’ll leave.”
The bartender didn’t move.
“What is it?” Thomas asked.
“Them three are troublemakers,” he said. “They was askin’ about you.”
“You know ’em?” Thomas asked.
“Yeah, they work at the Bar-K.”
“What kind of trouble are they lookin’ for?” Thomas asked.
“The kind of trouble you fellas must be used to by now.”
“Okay,” Thomas said. “Thanks.”
“Can you take it outside?” the bartender asked. “I gotta close up.”
“Don’t worry,” Thomas said. “We’re not lookin’ for trouble.”
Somehow that didn’t ease the bartender’s mind. He went back behind the bar.
“What do you wanna do, Thomas?” James asked.
“I’d like to get out of here and back to our hotel without trouble,” Thomas said, “but my guess is that’s not gonna be up to us.”
James turned for the first time and looked at the three men.
“They look like ranch hands, Thomas,” he said. “Not gun hands.”
“But they’re wearin’ guns, James,” Thomas said. “They’re wearin’ guns.”
“Let’s try ’em.” Cobb said.
“What?” Franks asked.
Cobb turned and looked at his two compadres.
“Come on, they don’t look like much. One of them’s hardly old enough to shave. Let’s brace ’em, see how tough they are.”
“B-but…ain’t they lawmen?” Martin asked.
“Not no more, they ain’t,” Cobb said. “Besides, them two ain’t wearin’ no badges.”
“I don’t know—” Martin said. “I think we better get back to the ranch, Cobb.”
“Nobody cares what you think, Kel,” Cobb said. He looked at Franks. “Whataya say, Harley? Wanna have some fun?”
Harley Franks had just enough beer and whiskey in him from a whole night of drinking that the idea appealed to him. They worked hard punching cows all the time. Where was the harm in having some fun?
“Why not?” he said. “What do we do?”
Cobb turned as he heard chairs scraping the floor and saw the two Shayes standing up, getting ready to leave.
“You two just follow my lead,” he said to Franks and Martin. “We make them back down and we’ll be the ones with a rep, not them.”
“I’m a cowhand,” Martin said, confused. “I don’t want a rep.”
Nobody was listening.
23
“Let’s just leave, James,” Thomas said. “There’s nothin’ else we can do.”
“All right.”