Coffey was in his early thirties and had only been sheriff of Highbinder for a few months. It wasn’t a position he had ever particularly aspired to, but he was new in town when the last sheriff accidentally shot himself in the head. When the job opened, he tossed his hat into the ring and got it. Highbinder was little more than a way station between towns and the town council—essentially, the mayor and his wife—didn’t think they needed a man with special experience. All they needed was a chest to pin a star on.
Tate Coffey certainly qualified for that.
In the saloon the eight men spread out, most of them standing at the bar. Jeb Collier and Vic Delay sat at a table. The saloon was small, only five tables. Two of them had been occupied until Collier and his men entered. Their presence alone was enough to convince the others to leave. So at the moment only the eight members of the gang—and the bartender—were present.
“I tell you that sheriff was eyeballin’ us,” Delay said.
“So what?” Jeb asked. “That’s his job.”
“We stayin’ here overnight?”
“Yeah,” Jeb said. “Our next stop will be Pearl River Junction. I don’t want us all ridin’ in there at one time, but I ain’t worked out what I wanna do yet.”
“So we should get rooms at the hotel.”
“Yes.”
Lou Tanner came over and set a beer down in front of each man.
“Lou, send Leslie over to the hotel. We’ll need…” He looked at Jeb.
“Four rooms,” Jeb said. He and Delay would each have their own room and the others would share.
“Four,” Delay told Tanner.
“Right, boss.”
As Tanner sent Leslie out of the saloon, Delay asked Jeb, “What are you thinkin’ of doin’?”
“We’re too big a force to ride in together,” Jeb said.
“I think we should ride into town in three groups, maybe four.”
“You and me?”
“Separately,” Jeb said, “in case someone recognizes us.”
“I can ride in with Tanner,” Delay said. “You can ride in with your brother. Then my two men and your two men.”
“Sounds good,” Jeb said. “And we’ll stagger our times. Let’s send the others in first, then you and Tanner, and then me and Ben.”
“We don’t know what kind of law they got there,” Delay said. “Maybe we should take the sheriff out first.”
Jeb put his beer down. “No, let’s not start trouble as soon as we ride in. I’ll need time to see Belinda and the boy.”
“We really are goin’ there so you can see if you have a son?” Delay asked.
“Well, yeah,” Jeb said. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I just thought there had to be more to it than that,” Delay said. “I mean, I might have some kids here and there, but I don’t really wanna know.”
“Well, I do,” Jeb said. “My ol’ man left me when I was five. I know what it’s like not to have a father.”
“So do I,” Delay said. “Big deal.”
“Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to you, Vic,” Jeb said, “but it was to me.”
“Fine,” Delay said. “As long as there’s a bank there.”
“There’s a bank in every town, Vic,” Jeb said.
“This one?”
“Probably,” Jeb said, “though I can’t see that there’d be much money here.”
Delay got a thoughtful look on his face.
“No,” Jeb said, “I don’t wanna hit a bank this close to Pearl River Junction. I noticed telegraph lines as we came in.”
“Why’s a town this size have a telegraph line?” Delay asked.
“I don’t know,” Jeb said. “What does it matter?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Delay said. “What does it matter? I’m gonna freshen my beer.”
Delay got up and left Jeb Collier to his thoughts. He walked to the bar, grabbed Tanner’s arm, and pulled him to one side.
“Send Samms out to look around.”
“For what?”
“This one-horse town has a telegraph line,” Delay said. “I want to know why. See if it has a bank.”
“A bank? This town? What kind of deposits would it have?”
“Lou?” Delay said, lowering his voice. “Why does this town have a telegraph line?”
“Okay,” Tanner said, “I see your point. There’s got to be something here to make it worth it.”
“Right,” Delay said. “Send Samms out.”
“I’ll go too.”
“Fine,” Delay said. “Just get me some answers.”
41
Thomas climbed up through the hatch and tossed a fresh canteen to his brother.
“Thanks,” James said. “I ran out a little while ago.”
Thomas moved to the edge of the roof and looked around.
“Any sign of anythin’ at all?” he asked.
“No,” James said, putting the stopper in the canteen. He didn’t want to drain his brother’s supply of water. “Three days up here, Thomas, and nothing. You think Pa could be wrong?”
“Well, yeah, he could be wrong,” Thomas said, “but I wouldn’t want to bet against Pa, would you?”
“No,” James said.
“Maybe,” Thomas added, “it’s not Pa who’s wrong.”
“Whataya mean?”
“Maybe it’s Belinda.”
“Why are you always pickin’ on her?”
“James…”
“Okay, okay,” James said, “never mind. All right, let’s say she’s wrong. Then what?”
“That means that there’s not a gang comin’ this way.”
“So is that good news or bad news?”
“Both,” Thomas said. “Good news that there’s no gang, bad news ’cause we’re still here.”
“And no telegrams from any of the other lawmen?”
“No, nothing,” Thomas said. “Why don’t you head down, get somethin’ to eat?”
“Okay,” James said. “Thad’ll relieve you in three.”
“Good.”
James handed his brother the rifle they were sharing while on “roof” duty and went down through the hatch.
“What if you’re wrong?” Alvin Simon asked.
Belinda made sure the CLOSED sign was out and his shop door was locked. She pulled the shade down and turned to face him.
“What?”
“What if Jeb Collier is not on his way here with a gang?” he said.
Belinda crossed the floor and faced him.
“Even if Jeb comes alone, he’d kill you.”
“I’m not helpless, you know.”
“Against him, you would be.”
“Belinda—”
“He’s coming, Alvin,” she said confidently, “and he’ll have men with him.”
“Well, at least you got Shaye and his sons to stay and help.”
“They’re not doing that for me,” she said. “They’re staying to help the sheriff.”
“How are you doing with them?” Simon asked. “I mean, over at the sheriff’s house.”
“They’re treating me different,” she said. “They know something.”
“About us?” Simon asked eagerly.
“No,” she said, “and they’re not going to find out.”
Deflated, he asked, “About what, then?”
“Just about…well, me.”
“You have been pullin’ the wool over their eyes for a while now,” he said. “Maybe they sense something.”
“No,” she said, “maybe it was Dan Shaye. He probably told them something.”
“But you asked him not to,” Simon said. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t control him?”
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I will. He’s a man, after all.”
“And you can control any man?”
Suddenly she realized she may have said too much. She came around the counter, then put her arms around his waist and her head against his chest.
“Most men, honey,” she said, “but not you. You know the real me.”