Vengeance Creek: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

29

“Mr. Cory,” Shaye greeted the gunsmith.

“Sheriff. What can I do for you today?”

Shaye closed the door tightly behind him, then turned and limped to the counter. Cory knew that the man had sustained a injury to his hip. He could tell by the way he walked and held himself, but he did not comment on it.

“I suppose you heard the commotion earlier today,” Shaye said. “Heard that the bank was robbed?”

“I heard that you and your sons killed yourselves four bank robbers.”

“That’s right,” Shaye said, “and we’ve got one in jail—but three got away, including the two who murdered everyone inside the bank.”

“A terrible thing.”

“Yes,” Shaye said, “it was awful. One of the people killed was the mayor’s daughter.”

“I’m sorry for his loss.”

“Yeah, I am too.”

Cory could see the pain etched on the sheriff’s face, and despite himself, he grabbed a chair from behind his counter and carried it around to the front.

“You better sit,” he said. “I’ll put the closed sign in the window. I have a feeling you and I are in for a long talk.”

“Thanks for the chair,” Shaye said, and lowered himself painfully into it. “Not that long a talk, though,” he said over his shoulder.

Cory came back around to his side of the counter. From beneath it he took two shot glasses and a half-filled bottle of whiskey. He poured two drinks, then stoppered the bottle and put it back. He pushed one of the glasses over to Shaye.

“Thanks,” the lawman said.

They both tossed back their drinks, then looked at each other.

“My sons are about to ride out after the remaining bank robbers,” Shaye told Cory. “They tried to get up a posse, but everybody turned them down. I can’t let them go out there alone, without guidance.”

“They’re grown men,” Cory said.

“They’re not ready,” Shaye said, “and I can’t go with them. This injury keeps me from sittin’ a horse.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“I’d like you to go with them,” Shaye said. “You see, I know who you really are.”

Cory thought about having another drink, but rejected the idea. That wasn’t the answer.

“So if I don’t agree to go you’ll reveal to the town who I really am?” he asked.

“No,” Shaye said. “I admit, that was my plan, to threaten you that way. I mean, right up until I got to the door. But not now.”

“So what is your plan?”

“This is it,” Shaye said. “Just to ask you to go with them.”

“You want me to babysit your sons?”

“They’re fine young men,” Shaye said. “They can take care of themselves, especially Thomas. He’s very good with a gun. Someday he’ll be better than me, maybe even better than you ever were.”

“But…”

“But they don’t track,” Shaye said, “and you do. It’s what you used to do.”

“A dozen or so years ago,” Cory reminded him.

“Trackin’ isn’t somethin’ you forget how to do, is it?”

“I’m not wanted anywhere, you know,” Cory said. “I was never a criminal.”

“I know you weren’t,” Shaye said. “Just a man with a reputation who decided to change his life.”

“When did you spot me?” Cory asked.

“As soon as you rode into town.”

“And you never said a word? Let me settle here?”

“Why not?” Shaye said. “I know what it’s like to want to leave a name behind you.”

For a few moments Cory studied the man seated before him.

“You’re askin’ me to do this.”

“Yes.”

“Not threatenin’.”

“No.”

“You could, you know,” Cory said.

“I have the feelin’ this has happened to you before.”

“Many times.”

“Would you give in this time, again? Give up your business?” Shaye asked.

“No. When you walked in, I had the feeling it was going to happen all over again, and I wasn’t going to give in this time. But this…this is…different.”

Shaye shifted his weight in the wooden chair, which creaked beneath him.

“Look, Mister…Cory, I’m sorry that I’m askin’ this of you, but I don’t see that I have a choice.”

“So it would be me and your two boys?”

“One other man,” Shaye said.

“How will you convince him?” Cory asked. “Does he also have an old life behind him?”

“No,” Shaye said, “but he owes me for this one.”

Cory hesitated, then said, “I’ll have to think it over.”

“That’s fair,” Shaye said, “but my boys are gonna have to leave tonight, before dusk. If they wait until mornin’, the men they’re chasin’ will have too big a head start.”

“Give me…an hour.”

“Fine.”

Shaye struggled to his feet, walked to the door. He opened it, considered turning the sign back around to read “Open,” but had a feeling the shop was going to stay closed.