“I’m not used to this, so I’m hoping I don’t drop it,” Cotton said.
“I’ll take it, Riley,” she said, grabbing the tray from him with practiced hands. Shaye noticed the change in her demeanor as she once again showed more refinement than she had during their conversation. Her no-nonsense attitude disappeared.
“Mr. Shaye, do you take sugar?”
26
Thomas and James were wondering how the meeting with Belinda Davis and their father was going when the young deputy they’d met the day before came sauntering over.
Well, they hadn’t actually met him, because they hadn’t exchanged names, but they were sure he knew who they were.
“Heard you had some excitement last night,” the deputy said, stopping in front of them. They were both seated in straight-backed wooden chairs, just sort of lounging. Thomas had his chair leaning back against the building, the front two legs off the ground, but when the deputy stopped in front of them he let the chair come down and shifted his weight in it.
“That so?” he asked. “Where’d you hear that?”
“From the sheriff.”
“Well, it wasn’t much,” James said. “Just some cowhands who got a little too drunk. One of them drew and my brother planted him.”
Thomas looked at James and said, “‘Planted’?”
James shrugged.
“Uh-huh.” The deputy said again.
“We ain’t been properly introduced,” Thomas said. “I’m Thomas Shaye. This here’s my brother James.”
The introduction caught the young deputy off guard.
“Oh, uh, my name’s Thad Hagen,” the young man said, “Deputy Thad Hagen.”
“Glad to meet you, Deputy,” Thomas said.
“Yeah, well…uh, yeah, glad to meet you fellas too. Where’s your pa?”
“Dan Shaye’s our pa,” Thomas said. “He’s with the sheriff right about now.”
“Oh…well, okay, then,” Hagen said. “I got to get on with my rounds.”
“Thanks for askin’ after us,” Thomas said.
“Uh, sure,” the man said. “I was just…uh, sure. Okay.”
Slightly confused, the deputy walked away.
“Guess he didn’t realize he was askin’ after us,” James said. “You sure took the starch outta him by introducin’ us.”
“Just tryin’ to be neighborly, James,” Thomas said. “Ain’t that what Pa taught us?”
“That’s it exactly,” James said. “Neighborly.”
“Wonder what’s takin’ Pa so long,” Thomas said. “Sure do wanna get a look at this boy who’s supposed to be Matthew’s.”
“Thomas,” James said, “I don’t think Matthew could’ve been with a girl without one of us knowin’, do you?”
“No, sir, I sure don’t, James,” Thomas said. “He woulda been braggin’ to one of us.”
“Pa woulda knowed too.”
“Or Ma,” Thomas said.
James’s eyes widened.
“You think it mighta happened while Ma was…was alive?”
“Could’ve, I reckon,” Thomas said. “But she woulda known, James. Ma always knew when one of us was keepin’ a secret from her.”
“She was spooky that way.”
James rocked in his chair for a few moments, then said, “I still miss her.”
Thomas didn’t reply, but he felt the same way.
Belinda’s attitude was unaltered while Sheriff Cotton was in the room, but eventually she got him to take the tray of empty cups back into the kitchen. At that moment she turned to Shaye, her demeanor totally changed.
“What are you going to do, Mr. Shaye?” she asked. “Are you going to help me?”
“I assume you don’t want me to discuss this with the sheriff.”
“I prefer that you don’t.”
Shaye hesitated, then said, “I have to see the boy, Belinda.”
“That’s not a problem,” she said, “but will you decide then?”
“Not today,” he said. “After I see the boy, I’ll have to talk to my sons. I’m sure they’re going to want to meet both of you as well.”
She looked exasperated.
“Jeb Collier and his men could come riding into town at any moment,” she argued.
“That may be so,” Shaye said, “but I won’t be pushed into a decision before I’m ready. You won’t be able to ride me or my boys the way you do the sheriff, Belinda.”
She sat back in her chair and stared at him. The sheriff came walking back in and looked at them both.
“What did I miss?” he asked.
“Nothing, Riley,” Belinda said with a false smile.
“I’m ready to meet the boy,” Shaye said.
“Belinda?” Cotton asked.
“Yes,” she said, “I’ll go and bring him in. Please, Mr. Shaye, don’t say or do anything to frighten him.”
“I’m not a monster, Belinda,” Shaye said. “I won’t scare him.”
She nodded and left the room.
27
Shaye was surprised to find that he was nervous to meet the boy who might be his grandson. When Belinda returned to the room, she was followed by the sheriff’s wife, who was carrying the boy.
The first thing Shaye noticed was that the boy was big for his age, much the way Matthew had been. He also had brown hair and brown eyes. On the other hand, the boy seemed fairly alert, which had not been the case with the young Matthew.
“Mr. Shaye,” Belinda said, “this is Marion Cotton, Sheriff Cotton’s wife.”
“Ma’am.”
“Mr. Shaye.”
“And this is Matthew,” Belinda said. “We call him Little Matt.”
Shaye wondered briefly why it was the sheriff’s wife who was carrying the boy and not his mother.
Marion Cotton brought the boy toward Shaye, who took a few steps closer to get a good look at him.
“Hello, Little Matt,” he said, reaching a hand out to the boy, who immediately grabbed one of his fingers. The child’s grip on his finger was impressive.
“He’s a strong boy,” Shaye said.
“Yes, he is,” the sheriff’s wife agreed.
Shaye studied the boy, trying to see if he could find any trace of Matthew in there somewhere. Certainly this child had the size, but other than that Shaye couldn’t see a resemblance between Little Matt and his own son. Neither did he see any of himself or his wife in the boy’s face or eyes.
“Well?” Sheriff Cotton asked. “What do you think?”
“It’s too soon to tell,” Shaye said. “He’s a fine-looking boy, but…”
“Why won’t you accept him as your grandchild?” Marion asked.
“Ma’am,” he said, “with all due respect, you didn’t know my son. A relationship of this type between him and Belinda—or him and any girl—is hard to believe.”
“I’m sorry that your son is dead, Mr. Shaye,” Marion said, “but this boy needs his family.”
“Marion!” Cotton said.
“No, it’s okay,” Shaye said. “She’s right. The boy does need a family—I’m just not ready to say that my sons and I are that family.” He directed himself to Belinda. “When can my sons meet you and the boy?”
“Any time, I suppose,” she said. “Today, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, I think, then,” Shaye said. “I want some time to talk with my sons.”
“Fine,” Cotton said. “Should we do it here again?”
“Outside,” Belinda said. “Maybe out back.”
“Noon?” Shaye asked.
“Yes.” He could tell Belinda was not satisfied with the outcome so far. “That’s fine.”
“Well…” Shaye said, not sure how to end this. “It was nice to meet you, Belinda.”
“Yes, you too,” she said, putting out her hand. Shaye doubted that the Cottons could see what he saw: the dissatisfied look on her face and in the set of her shoulders.