Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

47

Pushing his horse hard, Thomas Shaye reached Salina one hour after Ethan Langer and his men. He paused just outside of town, his horse blowing beneath him, removed his badge and placed it in his shirt pocket. He gave the horse a few more moments to catch its breath, then started for town at a walk.

Sheriff Holcomb was unhappy with the fact that all the strangers were in the Somerset Saloon and had been there for an hour. But at least they hadn’t gone near the bank yet. He knew they had to be planning something, though.

Over the past couple of hours, the traffic had dwindled down until the street was empty. Word had gotten around, and people had taken to the safety of their homes, expecting an explosion. He had two deputies, and at his best count there were at least eighteen gunmen in the saloon—maybe nineteen.

The fella riding down Main Street at the moment could well be making it twenty, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to do it.

What surprised the lawman about this man was that he rode right up to his office and stopped. Then he reined his horse in and looked down at him.

“Can I help you?” Holcomb said.

“You the sheriff?” the stranger asked.

“That’s right.” The man dropped his arms to his sides, either to get his hand near his gun or to show off the badge on his chest. “Holcomb’s the name.”

“My name’s Thomas Shaye, Sheriff,” Thomas said. He looked up and down the street. “It’s real quiet around here.”

“A town can generally feel when trouble’s abrewin’,” the lawman explained.

“You got trouble here?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“I have an idea.”

“Your friends are in the Somerset Saloon,” Holcomb said, “if you want to join them.”

“How many?”

“Maybe twenty,” Holcomb said, “with you.”

“Nineteen, then.”

“You ain’t with them?”

Thomas was still concerned that someone was going to see them. “Can we go in your office and talk?”

“Give me one good reason.”

Thomas looked around again, then removed his badge from his pocket and showed it to the sheriff.

“Okay,” Holcomb said, getting up from his chair, “that’s a good enough reason.”

He led the way into his office.

Aaron and Ethan exchanged stories about their bank jobs, and Aaron was quite interested to hear about the woman.

“So you just rode her down?”

“The bitch stepped out in front of us, Aaron,” Ethan said. “There wasn’t any way to avoid her.”

“You never killed a woman before, Ethan,” Aaron said. “How’d you take it?”

Ethan snorted and said, “She got what she deserved.”

The bags beneath Ethan’s eyes told Aaron his younger brother had not been sleeping well. Abruptly, though, he turned his head and shouted at Rafe.

“Get back outside, we’ll want to know if that lawman is comin’ this way.”

“Right, boss.”

“Take somebody with you.”

“I’ll go,” Ben Branch said. Grabbing his beer from the bar, he followed Rafe outside, but they were too late to see Thomas going into the sheriff’s office. They both saw the horse in front, but it didn’t register with either of them as unusual. They sat down and started exchanging stories about their bosses, ignoring the deputy who was still stationed across the street.