Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

65

“What’s wrong, Thomas?” Matthew asked.

Thomas had dismounted and was walking around looking at the ground and then staring off into the distance. Now he walked back to where Matthew was waiting, still mounted.

“I think I lost the trail, Matthew,” he said mournfully, shaking his head.

“You’ll pick up the trail again, Thomas,” Matthew said confidently. “I know you will. And if not, you’ll figure somethin’ out. You’re smart, like Pa.”

“Yeah, well,” Thomas said, not as sure of that as his brother was, “I don’t think they’ll stop in any Kansas towns. Not with the word out about what happened in Salina.”

“So they’ll keep goin’? Back into Indian Territory?”

“Unless they head west.”

“What about east?” Matthew asked.

“Too far,” Thomas said, “too much of Kansas to ride through.”

“See? I told you you was smart.”

Thomas took off his hat, ran his hand through his hair and looked into the distance, south.

“I’ll try and pick up the trail again, but I think we should keep headin’ south,” he finally said. “That’s where he likes to work, and that’s where his other brother is.”

“The priest? I thought they didn’t like each other?”

“They’re brothers, Matthew,” Thomas said. “If Ethan decided he needed help, that’s where he’d go.” He put his hat on and slapped his brother’s tree trunk thigh. “That’s what I’d do.”

“Me too.”

“Okay, then.” Thomas remounted. “We’ll head for Oklahoma City and see if we can pick up the trail.”

Thomas hoped he was making the right choice. He didn’t want the killer of his mother to get away, but—and this he found odd—even more than that, he didn’t want to disappoint his father, or his brothers. Matthew, he thought, was giving him much too much credit for Dan Shaye–like brains.

But Oklahoma City seemed like a good bet to him. If two brothers had split up, heading for the third brother was something a man might do. The way Thomas felt about his brothers, he couldn’t imagine not going to one of them for help.