Brimstone

56

VIRGIL WAS A BEAR on exercising the horses. Most days we’d ride at least one town patrol on them, and every couple of days we’d take them out and breeze them along the river. This day, as we rode back toward town, Virgil reined in for a moment and sat looking across the river where we’d first seen the Indian.

“Wonder what it was,” Virgil said. “ ’Tween that Indian and Pike.”

“Something that mattered,” I said. “He wanted to do more than just kill him.”

Virgil nodded.

“Thinking about it,” Virgil said, “I figure them arrows was all for Pike.”

“Yep.”

“Means Pike knew who it was all the time,” Virgil said. “Since they found that steer.”

“Yep.”

“Mighta helped if he told us,” Virgil said.

“Would,” I said.

We moved the horses forward, letting them walk now, taking our time.

“Think it’ll go like Allie told us?” I said.

“You know Pike,” Virgil said. “You know Percival. Whadda you think?”

“It’ll go like Allie told us.”

Virgil nodded.

“Be nice if they wiped each other out,” I said.

“Be nice,” Virgil said.

“How we going to play it?” I said.

“Stay out of the way,” Virgil said. “Contain it. When one side wins, we deal with them.”

“What you gonna do about Allie?” I said.

“Don’t know about Allie,” Virgil said.

“Hell,” I said. “Allie don’t know about Allie.”

“Probably not,” Virgil said. “But I know we can’t raise no fifteen-year-old girl without a woman.”

“Don’t have to be Allie,” I said.

“Got no better choice at the moment,” Virgil said.

“No,” I said. “We don’t.”

The horses took us slowly back into town, and on down Arrow Street toward the livery stable. The town seemed like it always did. Busy. Lotta people on the street. Kinda prosperous. The Church of the Brotherhood was closed and silent. No organ music. Allie wasn’t playing there anymore. At Pike’s Palace, several of his associates were lingering outside on the porch, wearing sidearms.

We left the horses at the stable and walked to the office. We dipped some water from the barrel, and drank, and sat on the front porch and looked at things.

“So we sit and await developments?” I said.

“Nope,” Virgil said. “I think we go right at ’em.”

“Good,” I said. “I hate awaiting developments.”