Leaving Epitaph

31

“I loved your mother more than anything, Matthew,” Shaye said, trying to explain himself to his middle son. “I loved her more than any law created by God or man, and I’ll break any or all of those laws avenging her death. It’s as simple as that.”

“But won’t you go to jail?”

“Maybe.”

“And that don’t matter to you?”

“No.”

“What about us?”

“What about you?”

“Don’t you love us?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well,” Matthew said, “if you go to jail, what are we gonna do without a ma and a pa?”

“Matthew,” Shaye said, “you and your brothers are grown men. You don’t need a mother and father around to tell you what to do anymore.”

“Maybe Thomas don’t,” Matthew said, “or James, but me, I ain’t smart like them, Pa. What am I gonna do if you go to jail?”

Shaye hesitated, then said, “Thomas will look after you, Matthew. He’s the oldest and he’ll look after the both of you.”

“Will you tell him that?” Matthew asked.

“I’ll tell him.”

Matthew hesitated a moment, then said, “Okay.” He dropped back to ride with his brothers again.

There was another eventuality that Shaye had not discussed with Matthew. In fact, there were more than one.

First, there was the possibility that he might get killed while trying to avenge Mary’s death. Oh, he’d take those evil sonsofbitches with him if he could, but instead of going to jail, he might just outright get himself killed.

And on the other hand, since he had his three sons with him, one, two, or all of them might get killed as well.

Was he willing to sacrifice his sons—any or all of them—to avenge his wife’s death?

Were his sons willing to die—or watch their father die—to avenge their mother?

Was he willing to ask himself these questions, and answer them, if it meant giving up his hunt, his vendetta?

At the moment he had to admit that he wasn’t.

Leave it to Matthew—the simplest, most innocent of the brothers—to come up with the hardest questions of all.

Questions Dan Shaye was certainly not ready to answer.