Vengeance Creek: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

3

It was dusk when Ben Cardwell and Sean Davis rode into Vengeance Creek. Cardwell was shorter and stockier, but both men were in their thirties, wearing trail-worn clothes and well-used guns. The streets were just about empty, which suited them just fine.

“What do we know about this town?” Davis asked.

“Easy pickin’s,” Cardwell said.

“What about the law?”

“Name’s Shaye, Dan Shaye,” Cardwell said.

“Do we know him?”

“Supposed to be some hotshot lawman from Texas.”

“So what makes this place so easy if he’s a hotshot lawman from Texas?”

“Don’t worry,” Cardwell said. “Even if we run into him, we’ll have enough men backing us up.”

“You keep tellin’ me about these other men,” Davis said. “How many? Are they any good?”

“They have guns and they’ll know how to use them,” Cardwell said.

“But are they any good?”

“It don’t matter,” Cardwell said. “We just have to put them between the law and us.”

“Are they in for full shares?”

“There’s only gonna be two full shares, Sean,” Cardwell said, “and they’re ours.”

The Shayes had worked out a system they thought worked well—especially for Dan. Thomas was an early riser, so he opened the office in the morning. Dan came along later in the morning, and James in the afternoon. It was James who was in the office late, and who made late rounds. Sometimes Dan changed his schedule—he’d either show up early to help Thomas out or stay late to help James.

As they left the Carver House, Shaye announced he’d be staying late with James.

“Checkin’ up on little brother, huh?” Thomas asked. “That’s good, he needs some lookin’ after.”

They all knew that wasn’t the reason, though. Shaye didn’t want to go home to the house they shared just on the outskirts north of town. Alone with his thoughts, he’d just start thinking about his dead wife. Once that started, it would lead him to thinking about his deceased son. No, tonight he preferred to stay at work.

Thomas wasn’t particularly anxious to go home alone either, but he kept that information to himself. He separated from his brother and father, saying he’d see them later at home. As soon as they were out of sight, he removed his badge and headed for the side of town that was across the dead line.

Cardwell and Davis were walking from the livery to the nearest hotel when they saw three men come out of the Carver House Café. There was still enough light for them to see the badges on the men’s chests.

“Wait a minute,” Cardwell said. “In here.” He pushed Davis into a doorway.

“What are you doin’?”

“I just want to watch the local law for a minute.”

They watched as the three men talked, then parted ways, one going off in one direction, the remaining two another way.

“Whataya think?” Davis asked.

“The sheriff’s got some years on ’im,” Cardwell said, “and one of the deputies looks like a green kid. It doesn’t look like they’ll be much trouble.”

“What about the third one?”

“He looks capable enough,” Cardwell said, stepping out of the doorway, “but one man’s not gonna be a problem either. Come on, let’s get that hotel room. In the morning we can take a look at the town.”