Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

63

James had the presence of mind to clear his saddle at the sound of the shot, but his inexperience precluded him from taking his rifle with him. Shaye, on the other hand, grabbed his Winchester before launching himself from his horse.

Both landed with bone-jarring thuds and rolled for cover behind some rocks.

“James? Are you hit?”

“No, Pa. You?”

“No.”

“My horse is dead, Pa.”

Shaye closed his eyes and silently thanked God for letting the bullet strike the horse and not his son. The irony of his thanking God was lost on him at that moment.

He wasn’t hit, but slamming into the ground had not done anything good for his existing wound. He could feel blood beginning to soak his shirt, but he’d have to worry about that later.

“Who is it?” James called out.

“My guess is Aaron left Esteban Morales behind to ambush us,” Shaye said. “It’s a tactic he and Esteban have used in the past.”

“Can you see him?”

“No,” Shaye said. “We’ll have to draw his fire again in order to pinpoint his location. That was a rifle shot, so he could be pretty far away. Do you have your rifle?”

“No,” James said. “I didn’t think to take it.”

That was when Shaye realized that James didn’t have the reflex yet to automatically grab his weapon. This also put Shaye in a quandary, once again, like in the saloon. If James were just a deputy, he’d instruct him to draw Morales’s fire, since he was the one with the rifle. Even if he gave James the rifle, he wasn’t a good enough shot to take Morales from where they were. Shaye didn’t even know if he was going to be able to do it, or if he’d have to get closer.

There was no way around it. James was going to have to draw fire from the Mexican, who was being smart enough to conserve his ammo until he could see somebody to shoot at.

“James?”

“Yeah, Pa.”

“You’re going to have to draw his fire so I can spot him, son.”

“I figured that, Pa.”

Shaye checked his rifle to make sure it hadn’t been damaged in the fall from the horse.

“When, Pa?”

“I’ll tell you,” Shaye said. “Don’t make a move until I say.”

It was getting late in the day, and they were traveling north. The son was setting in the west, so it wasn’t in Shaye’s eyes, but it wouldn’t be in Morales’s eyes either.

“You’re not going to be able to just pop up and down, James. You need to make him think he’s got a target.”

“Should I stand still,” James asked, “or move?”

“You’ve got to move,” Shaye said. “He’ll hit a stationary target. When I say ‘Go,’ you start running to that other group of rocks over there. See them?”

“Yes,” James said. He was lying on his belly where he was. “That’s better cover anyway, Pa.”

“Okay, then,” Shaye said. “I’m not going to be able to take a shot, I’m just going to have time to spot him, and then we’ll have to do it again.”

“Are you gonna try to take him from here?”

“That’s what I’m going to do,” Shaye said. “If I can’t get him, then we’ll have to find a way to get closer.”

“Okay, Pa,” James said. Shaye detected a slight quaver in his son’s voice. “I’m ready when you are.”

Morales had expected to hit one of them with his first shot. He was too experienced not to know that he’d missed the men and hit one of the horses. Maybe the animal fell on the rider. That would be helpful.

He blamed his miss on the fact that he was thinking about Aaron Langer and all that money. Truth be told, he did not even know yet how much there was. They were not able to finish the tally in Salina, and when Aaron had divvied up the money into saddlebags, Morales had not had a chance to count his.

The longer he’d had to sit on his rock and wait for the riders to appear, the less sure he became that Aaron would be waiting for him in Red Cloud. After all these years of riding together, he thought that Aaron was going to try to steal his money. If that truly happened, then he was going to have to track down the man he’d ridden with for so long—given his loyal service to—and kill him. The thought did not sit well with him.

But before he could do anything about that, he had to take care of the situation. He was an excellent rifle shot. All he needed was something to shoot at. He did not know who the two men were—he was too far away to see—but they had both reacted well, quickly leaving their saddles. From his vantage point, he could not tell if they had taken their rifles or not.

He would find out soon enough, though. As he sighted along the barrel of his rifle he said softly, “Any minute now.”