She opened the gate and the three men entered while she went into the house.
In the house she told Belinda, “They’re here.”
Belinda went to the window to look out at Daniel Shaye’s sons. She was impressed with the older one. He was tall, well built, and quite handsome. He reminded her of Matthew, but not as large.
“I’ll get Little Matt,” Marion said. If Belinda noticed the coldness in her tone, she gave no indication. “Why don’t you go out and…talk to them?”
“All right,” the younger woman said. “I’ll see you outside.”
She went out the back door while Marion went into the bedroom to get the child.
When Belinda appeared in the yard, wearing another simple gingham dress, both Thomas and James caught their breath. They could both see how she would be able to influence a man with her beauty. If she could do it to a mature man like Sheriff Cotton, then their brother Matthew would have had no chance against her.
Shaye could see the reaction both his sons were having to the lovely young woman. He gave James no chance against her charms, but hoped that Thomas was old enough and smart enough to resist.
“Boys, this is Belinda,” Shaye said. “Belinda, Thomas and James.”
“It’s very nice to meet the two of you,” she said. “I can see the resemblance between you and your brother Matthew.”
Neither Thomas nor James commented on that remark.
“Where’s the boy?” Thomas asked.
Belinda pouted, a gesture that annoyed Shaye.
“Aren’t you interested in getting to know me first?” she asked.
“The boy is the one we might be related to,” Thomas pointed out.
“And you?” she asked, directing her gaze at James now.
Shaye saw James swallow and hesitate. If they ever left him alone with her, he’d be lost.
At that moment the back door of the house opened and Marion Cotton came out carrying Little Matt.
“There he is,” Shaye said.
While she walked toward them, Shaye noticed that Belinda had not removed her hot stare from James, who still seem mesmerized by her. Thomas must have noticed as well, because he stepped between the two of them, breaking the contact.
“Let’s look at the boy, James,” he said.
“His name is Matt,” Marion said, stopping before them.
“We call him Little Matt,” Belinda said, “because his father was so…big.”
Thomas walked toward the boy for a closer look, but did not touch him. James followed, but when he reached the woman and the boy he stuck his finger out as Shaye had done the day before. The boy immediately reached for it.
“He’s got a strong grip, Pa,” James said.
“I know,” Shaye said. “I felt it yesterday.”
“It’ll take more than a strong grip and a big ass to make him Matthew’s son,” Thomas pointed out.
Shaye noticed that the boy did, indeed, have a large behind. If nothing else, that reminded him of Matthew at the same age.
“We’re never going to be able to find store-bought britches to fit him,” Mary had lamented. “I’m going to have to hand-make them.”
“We can’t find store-brought clothes to fit him,” Marion said then. “I hand-make his britches for him.”
Shaye took a step back, as if she had slapped him, then shook his head to dispel the voice in his head.
“Hey, Pa,” James said, “didn’t Ma used to say—”
“Take a good long look, boys,” Shaye said. “This is important. Is he part of our family, or isn’t he?”
Thomas leaned in to examine the boy’s face, but Little Matt turned his head then, to look at his mother. Shaye noticed that Belinda was not looking at the small boy, but at James. It was as if she had sensed the weak link in them.
Thomas moved around to get a look at the small face.
“I can’t tell, Pa,” he said finally. “He’s a big one, that’s for sure, and his eyes…his eyes are right, but…”
“James?” Shaye said sharply.
His tone startled James, who turned his head to look at his father.
“Pa?”
“What do you think?”
James looked at the boy.
“I don’t honestly know, Pa,” he said. “Could be.”
“Could be ain’t good enough,” Shaye said. He looked at Marion, not Belinda, because it seemed to be the older woman who was the more responsible one. “We won’t be able to decide today.”
“I understand.”
“But,” Belinda said, “we don’t have much time—”
“For what?” Marion asked, cutting her off. “What don’t we have much time for, Belinda?”
“Nothing,” the younger woman said, backing off.
“There’s no hurry, Mr. Shaye,” Marion said to Shaye. “No hurry at all. We’ll be here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Shaye said. “Tell the sheriff we’re sorry we missed him.”
“I will,” she said. “I’m sure he was held up by something important.”
“I’m sure he was,” Shaye said. “Let’s go, boys.”
Sheriff Cotton stopped into the telegraph office and said to the clerk, “Hey, Beau.”
“Mornin’, Sheriff.”
“You had a man in here this morning sending a telegram,” the lawman said.
“Three,” Beau said, “he sent three.”
“Where to?”
“I ain’t supposed to say, Sheriff.”
“You can tell me, Beau,” Cotton said. “I’m the law.”
“Well…I guess you’re right.”
The clerk turned and retrieved the three handwritten slips that Shaye had written out.
“One to the sheriff of Epitaph, one to a lawman in New Mexico, and another to a lawman in Arizona, near Yuma.
“Did he get any replies?”
“One.”
“What did that say?”
“I can tell you that by heart,” Beau said, “’cause I remember. It was something about a feller who was in Yuma for two years and just got out last month. What was his name?”
“Collier?” the sheriff asked. “Jeb Collier?”
“That’s the one,” Beau said. “How’d you know that?”
Cotton smiled.
“Lucky guess.”
The young clerk laughed and said, “Must be lucky guesses like that’s the reason you’re the sheriff.”
“Yep,” Cotton said, “must be. Thanks, Beau.”
“Glad to help, Sheriff,” the clerk said, “but, uh, you won’t tell nobody where you got the information, right?”
“Don’t worry,” Cotton said, “it’ll be our secret, Beau.”
32
Jeb Collier stared across the table at his brother Ben, who was fidgeting in his chair.
“Ben,” he said, “go to the bar and get us four more beers.”
“Anythin’s better than just sittin’ here,” Ben said.
As Ben left, Jeb said to Clark Wilson, “If he don’t sit still, I’m gonna shoot him.”
“Ben got like that when you got put away, Jeb,” Wilson said. “Antsy. He can’t never sit still. Maybe it’ll change now that you’re back.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“So what’re we doin’ here?” Wilson asked.
They were about a week out of Pearl River Junction in a Texas town called Waco.
“We’re waitin’,” Jeb said.
“For what?”
“We takin’ the bank here too?” Dave Roberts asked.
“No,” Jeb said, “we ain’t. You got any money left from the last two jobs we pulled, Dave?”
Roberts hesitated, then said, “Some.”
“You’re gonna have to learn not to spend it all on whores and booze so fast,” Jeb said.
“And gamblin’,” Wilson said.
“I can spend my money on what I want,” Roberts said grudgingly.
“I ain’t sayin’ you can’t,” Jeb said, “just not so damn fast. You and my brother go through your money so fast…we ain’t gonna pull a job every week, ya know?”