Vengeance Creek: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

45

“I didn’t notice any packhorses,” Forbes said to Thomas as they approached the ranch house. “If you need some, we can probably provide them.”

“That’s okay. We decided to travel light, hopin’ to catch up,” Thomas said.

Thomas noticed he was attracting attention from some of the other hands, who stopped what they were doing to watch him and Forbes ride in.

Forbes reined in his horse in front of the house and dismounted, signaling to Thomas to do the same.

“Mr. Wilson will be inside.”

“How do you know without checkin’?”

“He never leaves the house.” Forbes turned, signaled to one of the watching hands to come over, and handed him his horse’s reins. “Give him yours. He’ll look after your horse.”

“Don’t unsaddle him,” Thomas said. “I won’t be here that long.”

“No problem. Come on.”

Thomas followed Forbes up the steps to the front door. The house was two stories high with a porch that wrapped around.

“Impressive house.”

“Mr. Wilson built it himself.”

The foreman opened the front door and led Thomas inside. They were in a large, high-ceilinged living room. The furniture also looked as if someone had made it themselves. Not fancy. But good, solid work.

“Your Mr. Wilson looks like a real do-it-yourself man.”

“He was,” a woman said.

Thomas turned and found himself looking at a pretty young woman holding a gun on him. When he turned to look at Forbes, he found himself looking down the barrel of a second gun.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

“That’s what you’re going to tell us,” the woman said.

“Whataya say, Doc?” Dan Shaye asked.

Doc Simpson looked at him, wiping his hands dry on a towel. “What are you asking me?”

“Can I sit a horse?”

“You want that wound to open and start bleeding again, yeah, sure,” the sawbones said. “You thinking of doing that?”

“That’s just what I was thinkin’ of doin,” Shaye said. He slipped off the doctor’s table and started buttoning his shirt. “It’s been a week, and I need to go after them.”

“Sheriff,” Simpson said, “you got lucky with that bullet, but if that wound gets infected—”

“You got it wrapped nice and tight, Doc,” Shaye said. “What else would I have to do?”

Simpson stared at him for a few moments, then shrugged.

“Keep it clean,” he said. “If it starts to bleed, clean it out with some whiskey, wrap it again. Just don’t let it fester and get infected.”

“How will I know if it’s infected?”

“Don’t worry,” Simpson said. “You’ll smell it.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“Don’t thank me,” the doctor said. “Just don’t come back dead.”

Shaye went to see the mayor, who was sitting in his office with a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“That’s not helpin’.”

“She’s dead,” Timmerman said. “Nothing’s going to bring her back.”

“Now you feel guilty?” Shaye asked. “A week later.”

Timmerman took a drink from the bottle, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and asked, “What do you want, Sheriff?”

“I’m goin’ after them myself,” Shaye said.

“Your boys are probably dead too.”

“I don’t think so,” Shaye said, “but thanks for the thought.” He walked to the door. “I’ll find someone to deputize in my stead.”

“I don’t care,” Timmerman said.

“You will,” Shaye said, “once that bottle’s empty. I’m gonna bring the money back, Mayor, and the bank robbers.”

Timmerman waved a hand, but Shaye was gone.

At the livery, he saddled his horse and tied a canvas bag to the saddle horn. All he needed was some beef jerky, some coffee, and a canteen. He was going to travel fast.

“You and your boys comin’ back, Sheriff?” Ron Hill asked.

“We’ll be back, Hill,” Shaye said. “Mean-while…” He took a deputy’s badge from his pocket and pinned it on the liveryman’s chest. “…you’re in charge.”

“What?” he said as Shaye mounted up. “I’m no lawman.”

“That’s okay,” Shaye said. “The mayor’s no mayor either. Just keep the office clean.”

He rode out of the livery, leaving Hill to sputter his protests behind him. All he was concerned with was getting his boys back, along with the money and the bank robbers. After that he had a feeling they’d be leaving Vengeance Creek as far behind them as they’d hoped to leave Epitaph.