Thomas wasn’t particularly anxious to go home alone either, but he kept that information to himself. He separated from his brother and father, saying he’d see them later at home. As soon as they were out of sight, he removed his badge and headed for the side of town that was across the dead line.
Cardwell and Davis were walking from the livery to the nearest hotel when they saw three men come out of the Carver House Café. There was still enough light for them to see the badges on the men’s chests.
“Wait a minute,” Cardwell said. “In here.” He pushed Davis into a doorway.
“What are you doin’?”
“I just want to watch the local law for a minute.”
They watched as the three men talked, then parted ways, one going off in one direction, the remaining two another way.
“Whataya think?” Davis asked.
“The sheriff’s got some years on ’im,” Cardwell said, “and one of the deputies looks like a green kid. It doesn’t look like they’ll be much trouble.”
“What about the third one?”
“He looks capable enough,” Cardwell said, stepping out of the doorway, “but one man’s not gonna be a problem either. Come on, let’s get that hotel room. In the morning we can take a look at the town.”
4
Shaye and James made late rounds together in an awkward silence. They stopped in several saloons, checked the locked doors of some businesses, made sure the parts of the town that were shutting down for the night were secure, then headed back to the office.
“Pa?” James said on the way.
“Yes, James?”
“You miss Ma, don’t you?”
Shaye hesitated, then said, “I miss Ma and Matthew, James.”
“So do I.”
After a couple more blocks Shaye said, “Why did you ask me that?”
“Um, you hide it real well,” James said. “I mean, you’re…quiet. Somebody lookin’ at you couldn’t tell, you know?”
“Men wear their grief differently, James,” Shaye said. “Look at Thomas. He wears it as quietly as I do.”
“But Thomas talk to me about it.”
“He does?”
“Well…when I ask ’im.”
Shaye put his arm around his younger son’s shoulders. “James, whenever you ask me, I’ll talk to you about it too. How’s that?”
“That’d be good, Pa,” James said. “That’d be real good.”
When Cardwell and Davis registered at the Palace Hotel, Cardwell checked the register to see if any of his other men had arrived yet. They took one room with two beds, went upstairs to drop off their rifles and saddlebags.
“I saw you checkin’ the book,” Davis said. “Anybody else here yet?”
“No,” Cardwell said, “we’re first.”
“I know any of these other fellas?”
“No,” Cardwell said. “I figured you might have a problem double-crossing somebody you know.”
“Not if there’s enough money involved.”
“This bank’s supposed to hold a lot,” Cardwell said. “Lots of ranchers in the area bank here.”
“How do you know that?”
“I got somebody on the inside who’s been keepin’ me informed,” Cardwell said.
“You trust them?”
“I trust the information.”
“You gonna cut them in?”
“I’ll have to see about that.”
Davis went to the window and looked down at the street. “Awful quiet around here once the sun goes down,” he commented.
“We’ll see how busy she is when the sun comes up,” Cardwell said. “Gotta remember this is a weekday too. Folks worked all day and went home to eat and sleep. Weekend might be a little livelier.”
“Why don’t we find a part of town that’s livelier now?” Davis asked. “I could sure use a beer and a woman about now.”
“So could I,” Cardwell said. “Let’s go find ’em.”
Thomas stopped in at the Road House Saloon, where the bartenders and saloon girls all knew him.
“Beer, Tom?” Al Baker asked him.
“Yep.”
Baker, who not only worked the bar but owned the place, placed a cold mug in front of Thomas, who paid him. Thomas had long ago told Baker that whether he was wearing a badge or not, he paid his way. The older man respected him for that.
“Hi, Tommy.” A blonde in a red dress sidled up to him, pressing her hips firmly against his. He could feel the warmth through both their clothes.
“Hello, Belinda.”
“Been a while since you came to see me.”
He didn’t want to tell her that he only came around when he was depressed, and that he’d had a few good weeks until now.
“Been busy.”
“Too busy for me?” She stuck out her lower lip and blinked her eyes. She was a few years older than him, and while he liked her, the little girl trick didn’t suit her.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “You look silly when you do that.”
“Ooh,” she said, removing her hips from his, “somebody’s in a bad mood.”
“Foul,” he corrected her. “I’m in a foul mood.”
“Well,” she said, “I’ll leave you alone, then,” and she flounced away.
Belinda was pretty enough, but not tonight. Tonight it would take a lot to change his mood—maybe even a miracle.
5
Thomas had kept his mood from James all day. Since he was the older brother, he believed he had to be strong for the younger. He knew that with Matthew gone, James needed him even more. But it was hard, being strong for somebody else. Sometimes you just needed to get away and give in to your mood.
He also didn’t want his father knowing how he felt. Dan Shaye had enough on his mind. He’d lost a wife and a son. Thomas recognized that the deaths in their family had been hardest of all on his father. So when he felt down—or foul, as he felt right now—he came to this side of town, usually to this saloon, and drank alone.
And, as long as people left him alone, there was never any trouble.
Cardwell wanted a saloon with a lot of activity. He and Davis kept walking until they reached a more lively part of town. With several saloons to choose from, he picked the Road House. It was the biggest, the brightest, and the loudest.
“Now, this is my kind of place,” Davis said, looking around. “Look at all the women.”
“Don’t get into trouble, Sean.”
“How would I do that?” Davis asked innocently.
“By treating every woman you meet like a whore.”
“Ain’t they?”
“No,” Cardwell said, “they’re not. If you want a whore, then go find a whorehouse.”
“Later,” Davis said. “I want to try this place out first.”
“There’s a table,” Cardwell said. “I’ll grab it, and you go to the bar and get two beers.”
“Okay.”
Davis went to the bar, which didn’t have much in the way of elbow room. He decided to force his way in, and by doing so, spilled some of Thomas’s beer.
“Hey!” Thomas yelled. “Take it easy.”
“I need two beers!” Davis shouted at the bartender, ignoring Thomas.
“There’s room for everyone, you know,” Thomas said. “No need to push.”
Davis looked at Thomas and said, “Stay out of my way and you won’t get pushed.”
“Look, friend,” Thomas said, “I’m just tryin’ to give you some advice—”
“Keep your damned advice to yourself,” Davis said.
“Hey, mister,” the bartender, Al Baker, started, “you don’t want to be talking to him that way, he’s—”