Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

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Aaron Langer and his men were the first to arrive in Salina. Riding in en masse, they attracted as much attention as they thought they would.

Watching them ride by from his window, Sheriff Matt Holcomb turned and said to his deputy, Ray Winston, “Ray, go and find Zeke and Will. I want all three of you here in half an hour.”

“What’s goin’ on, Sheriff?”

“Trouble just rode into town,” Sheriff Holcomb said, “in bunches.”

Holcomb didn’t recognize Aaron Langer as he led his men into town, but he did recognize trouble when he saw it, and these men were it.

There were several hotels in Salina, and some boardinghouses. The strangers had put their horses up at the livery and then split up, some to hotels, some to boardinghouses. Holcomb figured their leader was smart enough to keep them all from staying in one place.

“Have a seat,” he told his three deputies when they got back.

“What’s this is all about, Sheriff?” Zeke Abbott asked.

“A bunch of strangers rode into town today,” Holcomb said. “I didn’t like the look of them.”

“Why do you think they’re here?” Will Strunk asked.

“Trouble.”

“Like what?”

“The bank maybe,” Holcomb said. “We’re gonna keep an eye on the bank.”

Zeke swallowed and asked, “How many of them were there?”

“Maybe a dozen.”

“A dozen?” Will asked. “Like twelve?”

“That’s right.”

“Against the four of us?” Zeke asked.

“Relax,” Holcomb said. “Maybe I’m wrong. For now, we’re just gonna keep an eye on the bank, and on them.”

“Sheriff,” Zeke said, “it sounds to me like we need more men.”

“If we need them, we’ll get them, Zeke,” Holcomb said. “For now, just do as you’re told and we’ll be fine.”

Zeke wasn’t seeing it that way. He stood up, took off his badge, and put it on the desk.

“I can’t do this,” he said. “This is supposed to be a quiet town. That’s the only reason I took this job six months ago.”

“It’s been a quiet town, Zeke,” Holcomb said. “Do you mean that at the first sign of trouble you’re just gonna quit?”

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” Zeke said. “Sorry, Sheriff.”

As he went out the door, the sheriff faced his other two deputies.

“What about you fellas?” he asked. “Are you gonna quit too?”

“I’m not quittin’,” Ray Winston said.

“Me neither,” Will Strunk said.

“Well…good,” Holcomb said. “Now we just need to decide who watches the bank and who watches the leader of those men…whoever he is.”

Zeke Abbott left the sheriff’s office and crossed the street to the Somerset Saloon. Inside, he found Aaron Langer seated with a few of his men. There were no other patrons in the place, since they had vacated at the first sign of the outlaws. The bartender and owner, Sam Somerset, stood behind the bar, wiping the top with a rag. He was afraid to stay, but afraid to leave.

“Zeke,” Aaron Langer said. “What’s the good word?”

“The sheriff and two deputies,” Zeke said. “That’s it, Mr. Langer.”

“Good job,” Langer said. “Have a drink. Bartender, give the ex-deputy a beer, on me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Langer laughed, looked at his men and said, “Put in on my bill.”

“Yes, sir.”