Vengeance Creek: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

41

“We’re takin’ a chance checkin’ into a hotel,” Simon Jacks told Cardwell.

“What’s life without takin’ a few risks, Jacks?” Cardwell asked. “Besides, we need a room so we can finally count the money, and split it up.”

“Well, I’m for that.”

They got one room with two beds, and carried their saddlebags upstairs. Blue Mesa was not a big town, but it had two hotels and a few saloons, and that was big enough. There would be enough activity for the two of them to go unnoticed, but for now they had business to conduct behind closed doors.

Cardwell was the first to upend his saddlebags and empty the money onto the bed, but Jacks was right behind him. Before long the bed was covered with money.

“I told you that bank was worth hittin’,” Cardwell said.

“Yeah, you did,” Jacks said, “and you didn’t lie.”

“Well,” Cardwell said, getting on his knees next to the bed, “let’s start countin’.”

Sean Davis had no choice but to make cold camps along the way because all he had in his saddlebags was some beef jerky. He chewed on the last of it while he wondered if there was a posse behind him, and, if there was, whether they were looking for Cardwell and Jacks, or also looking for him. When it came right down to it, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d been holding the horses when the shooting started, and nobody could place him in the bank. If there was a posse and they caught up to him, they couldn’t touch him. If they tried, then he’d just give them Cardwell and Jacks.

Davis was unaware that Cardwell and Jacks had killed everyone in the bank, but he did know that they’d left him and the others behind to be killed while they got away with all the money.

Davis also knew that Cardwell and Jacks had been making camp each night and eating well, because he’d made sure both horses had supplies on them. But there was only a few days’ worth, so they would need to stop in a town soon, not only to divvy up the money, but to outfit themselves.

It was funny. He knew that Cardwell and Jacks didn’t respect him, but they were the ones who needed more than just beef jerky and water to survive. Cardwell had insisted that he be sure to include coffee and beans among the supplies. Davis knew he could last a long time on some jerky and a canteen of water, which was why he’d been able to close the gap between himself and them. If they did stop in a town, he’d catch up to them by midday.

If there was a posse, though, he wondered if they were as far behind him as he was behind Cardwell and Jacks.

James handed Thomas a plate of beans and a cup of coffee, then sat back to eat his own meal. Cory and Colon were also seated around the fire, as the four men had taken to having their meals altogether. It was safer that way, and they were getting to know each other a little better.

While they all now knew who Ralph Cory really was, nothing had yet been said about Rigoberto Colon. Though the Mexican always seemed to be in good humor, he was never very forthcoming with information about his past.

“So who has any idea how much money was taken out of the bank?” Cory asked.

“None of us do,” Thomas said. “We weren’t around long enough after the robbery to find that out.”

“All we know is that they killed everyone in the bank and got away with some money,” James said.

Cory shook his head. “I wonder if the amount of money they got was worth the number of people they killed.”

“How could it be?” James asked. “There isn’t enough money—”

“I meant to them, James,” Cory said. “These men are not like us. They think differently, have different values. All they care about is money, and they don’t care how many people they have to kill to get it.”

“Which I guess,” Thomas said, “answers your original question.”

Cory looked at him. “Yeah.”

James found a stream, and not only took the plates there to wash them, but carried everyone’s canteen to refill. Colon went to check on the horses, leaving Thomas and Cory alone at the fire.

“How well did James know the girl?” Cory asked. “The mayor’s daughter.”

“He didn’t know her at all,” Thomas said. “Not really. He was sweet on her, opened an account at the bank so he could go in and see her whenever he wanted to, but he never really got up the nerve to talk to her.”

“I guess that doesn’t keep him from being…upset over her death,” Cory said.

“No,” Thomas said, “it doesn’t.”

“Thomas, tell me about what happened last year,” Cory said then. “I’ve heard some stories, but…”

“My mother was killed,” Thomas said, “ridden down by bank robbers who had hit the Bank of Epitaph, Texas. It was the Langer gang. We tracked them down, killed most of them, and sent Ethan Langer to prison.”

“I heard he was…crippled.”

“I did that,” Thomas said. “I’m not proud of it. Might have been better if I’d killed him, but I wanted him to suffer.” He paused, then added, “He’d just killed my brother Matthew.”

“I’m sorry,” Cory said. “It must have been hard, losing your mother and your brother.”

“To the same man,” Thomas said. “Sometimes I think…”

Cory waited, and when Thomas didn’t continue, he said, “Think what?”

“Sometimes I wonder…if my pa doesn’t hate me because I didn’t kill Ethan. Or because I didn’t give him the chance to do it.”

“Did you ever talk to him about it?”

“No,” Thomas said. “None of the three of us…we don’t talk about that time very much.”

“Maybe you should,” Cory said.

“Yeah,” Thomas said, “maybe.”

At that moment James returned from the stream, and then Colon came over and announced that the horses were fine.

“Time to turn in,” Thomas said. “Same watches okay?”

The other three men nodded. They’d been keeping watch in the same order since the first night on the trail.

Thomas wrapped himself in his blanket and put his head on his saddle, thinking over his conversation with Ralph Cory. He’d already discussed the events of the previous year more with him than he ever had with his father. Maybe that was something he should fix when he and James got back to Vengeance Creek.