Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

57

As they reached the outskirts of town, Shaye continued the lesson on tracking he had begun earlier.

“I’m no great tracker,” he said, “but if you keep your eyes open, the terrain will tell you when someone has already passed by.”

Thomas and James listened intently. Matthew, on the other hand, allowed his mind to wander. He was still thinking about the men he killed, and that he might still have to kill. His gentle spirit could not come to terms with the act of killing.

“We’ve also run into some luck,” Shaye said.

“What kind of luck, Pa?” James asked.

“Dismount, all of you.”

Thomas and James obeyed immediately. Matthew did not hear the order.

“Matthew!” James said, snapping his brother out of his reverie.

“Huh?”

“Dismount.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

When all three sons were dismounted, Shaye showed them the hoofprints on the ground. He went down to one knee, and they all joined him.

“See there?” he asked, pointing.

All three boys peered at the ground.

“What’s that?” Thomas asked. “There’s somethin’ inside that hoofprint.”

“Good eye, Thomas,” Shaye said.

“What is that?” James asked.

“I’m not sure,” Shaye said, “but something has either adhered to the hoof of this horse or something has caused a small amount of damage—not enough to make the horse lame, but enough to make the track unique.”

“So all we need to do is keep followin’ that track?” James asked.

“As long as the Langers, or whoever the horse belongs to, don’t notice that they’re leavin’ a unique trail.”

“What happens if they notice?” James asked.

“They could send the horse off on its own, leavin’ us to follow a false trail.”

“How can we know that?” Thomas asked.

“Well, if they send the horse off riderless, the print won’t be as deep—unless they take care to weigh the animal down.”

“There’s so much involved in this,” James said. “It’s more…exact than I ever thought.”

Thomas and James would pick this up quickly, Shaye knew. Matthew would have trouble with it, but it really didn’t matter. If he could help it, Matthew would never again be tracking outlaws after this was over.

“The problem is,” Shaye said, “it’s not exact. If we follow the wrong trail, we won’t even know it until we get there.”

“And then what?’ James asked. “What happens then?”

“Then we backtrack and start over again.”

“How many men have you tracked this way, Pa?” Thomas asked.

“More than a few.”

“And did you ever give up?” James asked.

“Oh yeah,” Shaye said. “Sometimes it can’t be helped, sometimes they get away.”

“And you accept that?” Thomas asked.

“As a lawman you do,” Shaye said, “because you know somewhere, sometime, another lawman will catch them…but this is different. As a husband—and as sons—we won’t give up. I don’t care how many times we have to backtrack and start again, we’ll catch these men.”

“But we had them,” Matthew said, shaking his head. “We had them, Pa, and we let them get away.”

“I know, son,” Shaye said. “I know we did. And we’ll have them again, and next time they won’t get away.”

Shaye stood up, and his sons followed, mounting their horses again.

“They’re heading west,” he said, “toward Hays. There’s no tellin’ which way they’ll end up goin’, though. They probably don’t even know. We broke up both parts of their gangs, and they’ll have to reform if they want to start again.”

“What if they don’t start again?” Thomas asked. “What if they have enough money now to just stop?”

“That won’t happen,” Shaye said.

“Why not?” James asked.

“Because there’s not enough money for these men to stop,” Shaye said. “Not for Aaron…maybe Ethan is a different story, but I know not for Aaron.”

“Do you know him that well to say that, Pa?” Thomas asked.

“I knew him,” Shaye said, “a long time ago. I know what kind of a man he was then.”

“But you changed, Pa,” James said. “You’ve changed since then. Why not him?”

“I’ve kept track of his career,” Shaye said. “Maybe I wanted to see what would have happened to me if I’d stayed on that path, if I’d ridden with him. He hasn’t shown any inclination to change.”

“But Ethan’s the one we want,” Thomas said, “he’s the one came to Epitaph, robbed the bank…killed Ma.”

“They’re brothers,” Shaye said. “If we take one, we’re going to take the other.”

“Brothers,” Matthew said, “like us?”

Shaye looked at his three sons and said, “Brothers, yes, but not like you. Nothing like you.”