Vengeance Creek: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

48

Sean Davis lost the trail as he entered Blue Mesa. There was just too much traffic on the main street, so the tracks he’d been following were trampled into obscurity. However, he knew if Cardwell and Jacks had stayed in town overnight, they would have put their horses up at the livery stable, of which there was only one.

At the stable, he faced a good news/bad news situation. The good news was that the liveryman—an older man named Hackett—told him he’d just missed Cardwell and Simon Jacks, after a few dollars changed hands.

“Left this mornin’,” the man said. “Few hours ago, actually. I knew they looked dodgy. You a lawman?”

Davis didn’t answer. He was too busy worrying about the bad news. Of all the places to take a bad step, his horse had done it right in the middle of the main street. The animal almost went down and he had to get off it and walk it to the stable.

“How bad is it?” he asked the liveryman.

“Sprained,” the man said. “Not gonna ride this fella for a while.”

“I need a horse,” Davis said. “You got any for sale?”

“Not me,” the older man said, letting the horse’s leg drop and brushing his hands off on his pants. “I know where you can get one, but it won’t be cheap.”

“Where?”

“End of the street you’ll see a corral,” the man said. “Ask for a man named Ian.”

“Ian?”

“Yeah, he’s Irish, or Scottish, or somethin’. Foreigner, anyway. Sells horses.”

“Okay,” Davis said. “Thanks.”

“So you ain’t a lawman?”

Davis stopped on his way out, turned and said, “No, I ain’t a lawman. Take care of my horse and rig for me, I’ll be back. Maybe you’ll wanna buy the horse?”

“Naw,” Hackett said, “I don’t buy horses. Better talk to Ian about that too.”

“Yeah, okay,” Davis said, and left.

“’Nother one on the dodge,” Hackett said when he was gone, and began unsaddling the horse.

Davis found that Ian was a Scotsman in his sixties with about half a dozen horses available for sale in his corral. The man had the scarred hands of a longtime horse trader, and Davis knew he was going to get outhaggled no matter what. He could see this was going to take a while, because he recognized that there were no shortcuts with this man.

“I got a jug in the back,” Ian said. “We can pass it back and forth while we haggle.”

“Get it,” Davis said, “and let’s get started.”

The three riders stopped when they came within sight of Blue Mesa.

“Not a big town,” James said.

“We ride in together, word’s gonna get around,” Ralph Cory said.

“If the men we seek are in town, they will hear,” Colon said. “They will be forewarned.”

“What do we do, then?” James asked.

The two older men looked at him. James knew what they were thinking. He was the one wearing the badge. He wished Thomas was there.

“Never mind,” he said. “Let’s ride in separately. I’ll go first, then you fellas follow me every fifteen minutes.”

“Might help if we ride in from different directions too,” Cory suggested.

“Good idea, Ralph,” James said.

“Where do we meet?” Colon asked.

“At the livery,” James said. “Doesn’t look like this town would have more than one, and our horses won’t be so obvious there.”

“Good thinking,” Cory said.

“Thanks,” James said, gigging his horse with his heels. “I’ll see you boys in town.”

“You might want to put that badge in your pocket, though,” Cory called after him. “Sun’ll glint right off it.”

James waved a hand, then removed the badge and tucked it in his shirt pocket.

Entering the livery, James saw an older man rubbing down a horse.

“Help ya?” the man asked.

“I’m lookin’ for somebody, might have rode into town a little while ago,” James said. “That horse just come in?”

“’Bout an hour ago,” the man said. “Kinda lame, though. Stepped in a hole right here in town.”

“Where’s the rider?”

“Went lookin’ for another horse.”

“Where?”

“Far end of town, there’s a corral,” the man said. “Fella named Ian sells horses.”

“Any other strangers in town?”

The man straightened from the horse and looked at James. “You law?”

“Yes.”

“Badge?”

James took it out of his pocket and showed it to the man, but didn’t hold it close enough for him to read it.

“Two others, left this mornin’,” he said. “This third fella seems to be trailin’ them, like you. You alone?”

“No.”

“Good,” the man said. “Y’re a might young to be tryin’ to take somebody alone.”

“I get by,” James said.

He was about to say something else when he heard a noise behind him. He turned quickly and saw Colon entering the livery on foot, leading his horse.

“He with you?” the liveryman asked.

“Yes.”

“Well,” the man said, “you got your choice. Ian’s gonna keep yer man hagglin’ for a while, probably over a jug. You can take ’im there, or here when he comes back for his rig.”

Colon eyed James.

“Our man’s lookin’ for a new horse,” James explained. “Two other men rode out earlier this mornin’.”

“Which way?” Colon asked.

James looked at the liveryman.

“I dunno,” the man said. “I didn’t watch them leave.”

“Describe them,” James said, and listened while the man did.

“That them?” Colon asked.

“One of ’em sounds like Cardwell,” James said. “We’ll wait for Cory, and then go down and take the one in town while he’s hagglin’ over a jug with the horse trader.”

“As you wish, Jefe,” Colon said. “You are in charge.”

“He’s the boss?” the liveryman asked, surprised.

“You got a problem with that?” James asked.

“Me? I got no problems. Uh, am I gonna get paid for takin’ care of this fella’s horse?”

“You’ll get paid,” James said. “Just don’t leave here until we get back.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” the man said.

James jerked his head at Colon, and they walked their horses outside to wait for Cory.