Pearl River Junction: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

5

Sheriff Adam Kennedy looked up as the door to his office opened and his deputy, Lyle Canton, entered. The look on Canton’s unlined young face gave his news away.

“Where are they?”

“How did you know?” Canton asked.

“I can tell by looking at you when any of the Shayes are in town. Who is it this time? Or is it more than one?”

“All three.”

“All three?”

Canton nodded with great satisfaction.

“What should we do?” the deputy asked.

“It’s been what…a year since they settled here? And nothing’s gone wrong, has it? No bodies, not even any shots.”

“Yeah, but the mayor—”

“The mayor is an old woman.”

“Sheriff—”

“Come on, Lyle,” Kennedy said. “He’s been mayor a year longer than I’ve been sheriff—and I’ve been sheriff for twelve years. After all that time I can say what I like.”

“Yeah, but he’s worried,” Canton said. “They’ve got a reputation for—”

“I know what the Shayes have a reputation for, Lyle,” Kennedy said. “Just relax. I’ll have a look.”

“I can go over to the café,” Canton said. “I saw them goin’ in there. First the two sons, then the father.”

“Like I said, Lyle,” Kennedy said, “relax. You stay here.” The sheriff stood up, hitched up his gun belt, and put his hat on. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Sheriff—”

“Just watch the office, Lyle,” Kennedy said. “I’ll be back.”

The sheriff left the unhappy deputy sitting behind the desk and walked toward the café. He remembered the day the Shayes rode into town. He recognized Dan Shaye from one dealing they’d had when both men wore badges. Shaye had tracked a man this far and together they’d arrested him. Since then Kennedy had heard about all Dan Shaye and his sons had been through, about the men they’d killed. Their presence in town made Mayor Ben Carter very nervous, and then when Shaye announced their intention to buy the old Tarver place, Carter went from nervous to scared.

“They’re gonna bring trouble, Adam,” the mayor said.

“That remains to be seen, Ben,” Kennedy had replied. “Why don’t we just wait and see what happens?”

What happened was that, for the most part, they remained on their ranch, came to town for supplies and—occasionally—for a meal, and the trouble Ben Carter had been afraid of never materialized. At least, not yet. Still, that didn’t stop Adam Kennedy from talking with any of the Shayes who came into town. Yesterday he’d spoken briefly to Dan. Today, all three of them were in town. Maybe something was finally brewing.

When Kennedy entered the café, his appearance drew the eyes of the other diners to him and away from Dan Shaye and his boys. The lawman wondered how the Shayes could even stand coming to town at all. Not only did they have to deal with his presence every time, but with the stares from the rest of the townsfolk, who—like the mayor—were waiting for lead to fly.

“Sheriff,” Dan Shaye said, “I’ve been expecting you. Have some coffee with us.”

Kennedy pulled out the fourth chair at the table and sat down. He accepted the cup of coffee Thomas Shaye handed him.

“Two days in a row,” Kennedy said to Shaye. “That’s kind of unusual.”

“I guess everyone else must feel the same way,” Shaye said.

“Why don’t they just all come over and join us?” James said. “It’s like they’re sitting with us anyway.”

Kennedy and Shaye exchanged a glance. They were roughly the same age and they both understood the way the people of Winchester felt. Shaye had dealt with it himself as a lawman. Whenever somebody with a reputation came to town, trouble usually followed. However, Shaye was beginning to wonder how long he and the boys had to be part of this community before the stares and the fear went away.

“Anything in particular bring you back?” Kennedy asked.

“Telegrams,” Shaye said. “I had to send a couple. We’re waiting for the replies now.”

“Waitin’ for good news or bad news?”

“Depends on how you look at it,” Shaye said. “We get the right reply for you and the townspeople and we’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“Leaving?” Kennedy asked. “For good?”

“I don’t know,” Shaye said. “Probably not, but for a while. Long enough to give you all a breather.”

Kennedy put his coffee cup down.

“I know it’s been going on a long time, Dan,” he said, then looked at the boys as well. “I kinda thought it would wear off by now.”

“So did I,” James said.

“I didn’t,” Thomas said.

They all looked at him.

“This town hasn’t felt right from the beginning, Pa,” Thomas said. “I didn’t want to say anything, but—”

“You should have said something, Thomas,” his father said, “right from the start. What about you, James?”

“I…agree with Thomas, Pa…b-but I don’t feel as strongly as he does about it.”

“This is a good town,” Kennedy told them. “You may not believe that now, but it is. We’ve just never had anyone like…well, like you living here before.”

Shaye looked at his boys and then at the lawman. Finally, he looked around, saw that although the number of diners had thinned out, they were still the center of attention.

Maybe he should have noticed this from the beginning as well.

Shaye had seen the old Tarver place the first time he’d come to Winchester, tracking Dolph Jordan. Sheriff Kennedy had helped him take Jordan in, but before heading back to Texas with his prisoner, Shaye had seen the run-down ranch and thought it was the kind of place he could take Mary and the boys to. Later, once he’d returned to Epitaph, he’d forgotten about the place—until last year. Once he decided that he and the boys should stop carrying stars, he remembered the vacant Tarver ranch outside of Winchester, Wyoming. When he brought the boys here, he became so enamored with the idea of fixing up the old ranch that he hadn’t seen or felt what they did when they first rode into town.

Now, sitting in the café with the boys and the sheriff, waiting for the answers to his telegrams, he realized what a mistake he’d made. But maybe it was too late, because if it turned out that Belinda Davis’s baby was Matthew’s, they were going to have to have someplace to bring her and the baby, a home for the child to grow up in, someplace that was not so close to the painful memories of Epitaph.

So much depended on what happened with Belinda Davis—and on whether or not it turned out he was a grandfather.