“Nothing’s come of this effort yet,” Caleb told them. “But my investigation continues.”
Then he thanked everyone for their attention, and stepped back down off the stage and returned to his chair. Once again, murmuring took the hall, as the sheriff’s disappointing news seemed an anticlimax after the boost of Zachary Gauge’s message.
The mayor resumed the podium to remind the group that refreshments were about to be served. Several husbands who’d been recruited set up long tables in front of the stage as their wives came out from the kitchen with twin bowls of punch and several plates of gingersnaps, then on a second trip adding cups and small plates. About half of the attendees filed out, but the others moved their chairs, and any abandoned ones, off to either side, and an area between was left for socializing.
Little groups of men formed to palaver and the women did the same, although some of the latter took the chairs that now lined the walls, sipping their punch, nibbling on cookies. Clearly, the Citizens Committee had been hopeful they could turn around this meeting about Trinidad’s dire circumstances by way of the banker’s assurances and a few refreshments, as if it were just another social.
That might have been wishful thinking, had it not been for Zachary Gauge’s surprise appearance.
Willa, interested in neither punch nor gingersnaps, nonetheless took one of the chairs, sitting her father down next to her. She knew he felt uncomfortable standing in a room with conversation coming at him from all sides.
Moving toward them through the crowd, slender as a knife blade despite broad shoulders, Zachary Gauge came walking their way. Various men tried to stop and talk to him, and he politely nodded and informed them he’d catch up with them later. He would not be dissuaded from his goal, which appeared to be Willa and her father.
He positioned himself in front of them with a somber expression and lowered his head in something that merged a nod and a half-bow.
“Miss Cullen. Mr. Cullen. I hoped I might pay my respects.”
George Cullen didn’t have to be told who was standing before him — the voice he’d heard earlier was now unmistakable.
“Mr. Gauge,” Papa said somewhat gruffly. “Fine words. I hope your actions meet up with them.”
“May I sit, Mr. Cullen?” he asked, gesturing toward the empty chair next to her father, his eyes asking Willa the same question. She nodded and so did Papa.
Seated next to the blind man, turning toward him, Zachary Gauge said, “I am heartsick over what I have heard, regarding the indignities my cousin visited upon you both. I can’t offer an apology for the actions of a relative I barely knew. But I can assure you that while I may share the scoundrel’s bloodline, I am of another breed entirely.”
The rather strained formality of that might have amused Willa, had she not sensed something genuine behind the too carefully chosen, perhaps overly rehearsed words.
“Mr. Gauge,” her father said, turning to cast his milky gaze on the man, “I judge men by their own deeds, not those of their family members. Who among us does not have a wayward relation?”
“I am most relieved to hear that, sir. And please — call me ‘Zachary.’ The Gauge name is not one viewed kindly in this community, a sentiment I wholly understand.”
“You are most welcome here, sir.” No gruffness now.
Her father held out his hand and Zachary shook it, smiling big.
“You’re very generous, Mr. Cullen.”
Papa said, “It took mettle for you to approach my daughter and me, Mr. Gauge... Zachary. Not every man might have the sand.”
Willa said, “Father... perhaps Mr. Gauge—”
“Zachary,” the newcomer insisted.
“Perhaps,” she began again, “Mr. Gauge understands that the two biggest landowners in the area ought to get to know each other.”
Zachary gave Willa a smile that fairly twitched with amusement. “Your daughter displays both rare beauty and a keen intelligence, Mr. Cullen... or may I call you ‘George’?”
“ ‘George’ is fine,” Papa said.
“Well, Miss Cullen is right,” Zachary said. “We need to cooperate and help each other.”
Willa said with a smile, “I believe you need our help more than we do yours.”
Zachary gave her another half bow, half-nod, returning the smile. “Undoubtedly, Miss Cullen. I am, as they say, land rich but cattle poor. This is something I hope we can discuss... though tonight is obviously not the time or the place.”
“Once you’ve settled in,” Papa said, “feel free to call on us. We’ll talk business.”
“Where I come from,” Zachary said, “it’s impolite to just drop in on people.”
Papa pawed the air. “Well, around here we don’t stand on ceremony. But if you’d like to set a time...?”
“I would. Is around two o’clock tomorrow afternoon suitable?”
Papa nodded. “It is.”
Zachary rose, said, “Thank you, sir,” then smiled and nodded to Willa, saying, “Miss Cullen.”
“Mr. Gauge. Zachary.”
The tall man turned and almost bumped into Caleb, who had approached when they were talking, though keeping a respectful distance. Now the two tallest men in the room stood facing each other.
Caleb gave Willa a nod, and said, “Good evening, Mr. Cullen,” and Papa responded similarly.
Knowing full well that father and daughter were well within earshot, Caleb began a friendly if guarded conversation with Zachary Gauge.
Offering a hand to shake, which Zachary accepted, Caleb said, “Welcome to Trinidad. You’ve already done the impossible.”
“And what would that be, Sheriff York?”
“Made a man named Gauge the most popular person in town.”
“Sheriff,” Zachary said, with a good-natured smile, “I am only trying to make up, in a small way, for what the black sheep of our family visited upon this community.”
“Like Mr. Cullen says, that’s generous. Particularly since you and your cousin barely knew each other. And yet you’re his sole heir, I understand.”
“Sheer happenstance. Rights of the survivor. And I don’t mean to suggest that I’m performing good deeds strictly to make amends for the sins of a cousin. Trinidad represents a real business opportunity for me... even if I am a cattle rancher without cattle.”
“Property is power, in this country,” Caleb said. “I have a hunch you’re a man who can overcome a small detail like no cattle.”
“Well... thank you. I guess. If I might ask...?”
“Ask away.”
The newcomer cocked his head. “I was given to understand that you were leaving this community.”
“That was my intention. It still is.”
Willa, listening, frowned.
Zachary asked, “Then this sheriff who was killed — Ben Wade?”
“Ben Wade.”
“He was a friend?”
“I got him the job.”
“And you’re taking his place until you’ve tracked down his killer?”
“That’s the intention. And I’d like to get that money back, too.”
“The bank’s money, yes.”
“It’s not really the bank’s money. It’s the people of Trinidad who really got robbed.”
Zachary nodded twice. “Quite right. Well, if there’s anything I can do to be of assistance, in your efforts, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Caleb stood with hands on hips. “Well, there is something. I’d appreciate you taking a good hard look at the men working for you on the spreads you’ve inherited.”
Zachary raised a palm. “Oh, I intend to. I’ll be taking a hard look at all my personnel. I’ll be combining those properties into one bigger ranch. Only makes sense. More efficient. I’m no rancher, not yet, but that much I know to do.”