Pearl River Junction Page 14

  Jeb turned his attention to the two men who had just entered. One was the sheriff and the other was Lou Tanner.

  “Found the lawman peekin’ in the window,” Tanner said. “He’s been watchin’ us all day. Figured maybe he’d like a closer look.”

  “Good idea, Lou,” Jeb said. “What’s your name, lawman?”

  “Coffey.”

  “You got any deputies?”

  “No.”

  “Guess you don’t need any in a town like this, huh?”

  “Ain’t much of a town,” Ben Collier said.

  “What’s your interest in us, Sheriff?” Jeb asked.

  “You’re strangers,” Coffey said. “It’s my job to look out for strangers.”

  “Is that right?” Jeb asked. “You think maybe we’re after your bank?”

  “No, sir.”

  “‘Sir’?” Jeb looked around at his men. “We got us a real polite lawman here, boys.”

  “Jeb, he was outside the bank when Samms and me were inside,” Tanner said. He still had his gun in his hand, trained on Sheriff Coffey’s back.

  “Is that right?” Jeb asked. “I reckon you probably went in there to see what Lou here wanted, didn’t you, lawman?”

  “I’m just doin’ my job.”

  “And does doin’ your job mean you use the telegraph key?” Jeb asked.

  “Use the key for what, Jeb?” Ben asked.

  “I’m thinkin’ he mighta warned Pearl River Junction that we’re comin’,” Jeb answered.

  That made Vic Delay sit forward.

  “How would he know we were headin’ there?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeb said. “Maybe the sheriff here can tell us.”

  “There’s nothin’ to tell,” Coffey said, sweating. “Tol’ you. I’m just doin’ my job, keepin’ an eye on you.”

  “We’ll see, Sheriff,” Jeb said. “We’ll see. Lou, you and a couple of others make the lawman comfortable in one of these chairs. I want to eat before I talk to him some more.”

  “Sure, Jeb,” Tanner said. “Samms, find some rope. We’re gonna make the lawman real comfortable.”

  Sheriff Coffey watched the entire gang finish eating while tied to a chair that was shoved into a corner. It gave him time to wonder what they would do to him if he didn’t tell them what they wanted to know. It also gave him time to regret he’d ever taken this damn job.

  “What are we gonna do with him?” Delay asked Jeb while they ate. He kept his voice down so the sheriff couldn’t hear him.

  “We’ll send one of the men over to the telegraph office, find out if he’s sent or gotten any telegrams recently,” Jeb explained. “I’m thinkin’ maybe somebody in Pearl River Junction heard about me gettin’ out of Yuma and figured I might be comin’ to see ’em.”

  “Her, you mean,” Delay said. “You’re talkin’ about your gal.”

  “Maybe.”

  “If she tol’ them you’re comin’, then they’ll be ready for us,” Delay said. “And if this fella sent them a message tellin’ them how many we are—”

  “You’re puttin’ the horse before the cart, Vic,” Jeb said. “Let’s finish eatin’, then find out what he knows and what he told people, before we panic.”

  “I ain’t gonna panic, Jeb,” Delay said. “That ain’t what I do. See, this whole thing is your plan. You’re gonna decide how we play it. I only know one thing.”

  “What’s that, Vic?”

  “This day’s gonna end with me killin’ a lawman.”

  Jeb forked a piece of steak into his mouth and said, “I got no problem with that.”

  46

  Later that night Shaye entered the sheriff’s office and found Cotton seated at his desk.

  “You haven’t gone home yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “Anybody else around?”

  “James is out doin’ rounds,” Cotton said.

  Shaye came over and sat across from Cotton.

  “Any more word from that sheriff in Highbinder?”

  “No,” Cotton said, “and I’m worried. That’s a small town. Fact is, it can’t hardly even be called a town anymore. If he gets too close to those men and they notice him…”

  “I get your meaning,” Shaye said. “If we don’t hear from him again, we’ll have to assume the worst.”

  “Yep,” the other man said. “That he’s dead and that Collier and his gang know that we know they’re coming.”

  “That’d be the worst, all right.”

  “What do we do then?” Cotton asked. “I mean, if they come riding in here as bold as you please…if they come in peaceful and none of them is wanted for anything, there ain’t much we can do.”

  “Not until they break the law anyway,” Shaye said. “Fact is, Jeb Collier’ll probably want to finish his business with Belinda before he tries for the bank.”

  “What if she doesn’t want to see him?” Cotton asked.

  “Then we’ll probably have a problem,” Shaye said, “but I think she’ll talk to him.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “It’ll be the only way she can get rid of him,” Shaye answered. “She’ll have to convince him that he’s not the father.”

  “And what if she has no better luck convincing him he’s not the father than she did convincing you that you’re the grandfather?”

  Shaye stared at the lawman.

  “Riley, I’m not even sure I understand that question, but why don’t we just worry about it when the time comes?”

  “Right, right.”

  “I’ve got a question for you, though.”

  “Okay.”

  “How long a ride is it from here to Highbinder?”

  “Two days.”

  “So they’ll have to camp overnight on the trail.”

  “Right,” Cotton said. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m wondering what would happen if we met them on the trail?” Shaye said.

  “And did what?” the lawman asked, carefully.

  “Somehow persuaded them not to come to Pearl River Junction.”

  “And how would we do that without gunplay?”

  “We probably couldn’t,” Shaye admitted.

  “Dan, I don’t think I could do that,” Cotton said. “I mean…I’m the sheriff and—”

  “That’s okay,” Shaye said, cutting him off. “I was just trying it out on you. I know you can’t do anything that’s against the law.”

  “I’m sure there are some lawmen who stretch the law, Dan,” Cotton went on. “Maybe it’s a failing in me that I can’t—”

  “Riley,” Shaye said, “it’s okay. I understand.”

  They sat quietly for a few moments and then Cotton said, “You and your sons wouldn’t ride out there and face them, would you?”

  “No,” Shaye said, “not without knowing exactly how many there are. Sheriff Coffey said eight, but we don’t know if they’ll be riding all together or not. I mean, if I was Collier I wouldn’t want to ride in here with seven other men and attract attention.”

  “So you think they’ll come in separately?”

  “In three or four groups, probably,” Shaye said. “We’ll have to get a description of him from Belinda, just so we’ll have a chance to recognize him when he rides in.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “I think we’re pretty safe in assuming they won’t arrive until the day after tomorrow,” Shaye said. “I just wish your sheriff friend would send us one more telegram.”

  “Maybe he will,” Cotton said, “after they leave town.”

  “Yeah,” Shaye said, “if he can. Given the size of that town, I also assume he has no deputies?”

  “No,” Cotton said, “and he hasn’t had the job all that long either.”

  Shaye stared for a moment, not at anything in particular.

  “You think he’s in trouble, don’t you?”

  “Oh yes,” Shaye said, “I do. And we’re too far away to be of any help. All we can do is wait.�
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  The blood from the wounds in Sheriff Coffey’s face had run down his chest and soaked into the ropes that were binding him.

  “That’s enough,” Jeb told Lou Tanner. Aside from Delay, Jeb had respect for Lou Tanner above all the other men and Tanner had proven him right by bringing the lawman in. Because of that he had allowed Tanner to don his leather gloves and “question” Sheriff Coffey.

  When Jeb called him off, Tanner stepped back and stripped off his bloody leather gloves.

  “We’ve got what we need,” Jeb said. “One sheriff with one full-time and one part-time deputy in Pearl River Junction. That’s all we need to know.”

  “So we don’t need him anymore?” Vic Delay asked.

  “No.”

  “I mean,” Delay said, “we don’t need him alive any—”

  “No, Vic,” Jeb said, “we don’t need him. Do what you want.”

  All of the men except for Lou Tanner, who knew Delay well, were startled when the man simply drew his gun and fired a shot into the sheriff’s chest, putting the bloody man out of his misery. The sheriff’s chair hopped in the air and came down on its back with a thud.

  Delay ejected the spent cartridge and inserted a live one before holstering his gun.

  “Lou, take the men to the bar and get them a drink on me,” Jeb said.

  “Sure.” Tanner kept himself from calling Jeb “boss.” He didn’t think it would sit right with Delay. The last thing he wanted to do was get Vic Delay mad at him. He knew better than anyone how unpredictable Delay was.

  Once the six men were standing at the bar, effectively blocking the bartender’s view, Jeb put his arm around Delay and said, “Vic, I don’t think we need to leave the bartender or the telegraph operator behind when we leave either.”

  “I can take care of that right now.”

  “Do the bartender tonight and the telegraph operator tomorrow before we leave. For tonight we can put both bodies behind the bar and then close this place up when we go to the hotel.”

  “Okay,” Delay said, “but maybe they’ll be gone by mornin’.”

  “Not these people,” Jeb said. “They got no place else to go.”

  “We should probably disable the key as well as the operator.”

  “No problem,” Delay said. “And while we’re checking out in the mornin’ I could also do the desk clerk.”

  “Ah, why not?” Jeb said. “Then we at least get our rooms for free, right?”

  Both men left and walked toward the bar, Delay drawing his gun again.

  47

  Jeb Collier came out of the hotel and found Ben waiting there with his horse. Behind him he heard a shot. He thought that must be Vic Delay taking care of the hotel bill.

  The night before, when they had returned to the hotel, he’d heard Delay ask the clerk, “Say, how many people live in this town anyway?”

  “Not very many anymore,” the clerk said. “Probably a dozen or so of us left, is all.”

  Well, Jeb had thought, minus the sheriff and the bartender.

  On the way up the stairs to their rooms, Jeb said, “You want to kill the whole town, Vic?”

  “I’m thinkin’ about it.”

  “Forget it,” Jeb said. “Take care of the telegraph in the morning and the desk clerk, then we’ll be on our way.”

  “You’re callin’ the shots,” Delay had said.

  Now it was morning and there was only the telegraph key and operator to take care of. Once the key was disabled, it didn’t matter how many people they left behind.

  Delay came out of the hotel, pulling on his black leather gloves.

  “Paid the bill,” he said.

  “Okay, let’s do the rest of it and get on the trail,” Jeb said. He took the reins of his horse from his brother.

  “Where’s my horse?” Delay asked.

  Nervously, Ben said, “Tanner’s got it over to the saloon, Mr. Delay. That’s where the rest of the boys are.”

  “Ben, I’m goin’ to the telegraph office with Vic,” Jeb said, mounting up. “Go get the rest of the boys ready to travel—and they better not be drunk.”

  “Sure, Jeb.”

  As Ben rode off toward the saloon, Delay said, “He’s an idiot.”

  “But he’s my brother,” Jeb said. “Don’t forget that, Vic.”

  The two matched stares, Jeb getting the upper hand because he was mounted and looking down at Delay.

  “Like I said,” Delay repeated, “you’re callin’ the shots,” and then he added to himself—for now.

  48

  The next morning Shaye had breakfast with Thomas and James. He took them to the café Sheriff Cotton had taken him to for the good cup of coffee. Turned out they had the best food in town as well.

  “Just don’t tell my wife I come here,” Cotton had said to Shaye. “This is the only place in town that makes better food than she does.”

  Shaye swore himself to secrecy and now did the same with his sons.

  “I wouldn’t want to get the sheriff in trouble,” James said around a forkful of steak and eggs, “but he sure is right about the food. I don’t know if it’s better than his wife’s, but it’s the best I’ve had in a while.”

  “It’s better than your cookin’, I can tell you that much,” Thomas said.

  “Oh yeah? Well, when we get back to the ranch, you can do all the cookin’ from now on.”

  They fell silent for a moment and then James added, “Uh, that is, if we go back to the ranch.”

  “I already told you both” Shaye said, “that we’ll be going back to the ranch, even if it’s just to sell it.”

  They ate in silence again for a few moments and then James asked, “How do you feel wearin’ a badge again, Pa?”

  “Well, it’s been a while,” Shaye said. “I have to admit I really didn’t like having to talk with the mayor yesterday and I’m not looking forward to talking to the town council half an hour from now. This is the political part of the job I have always hated.”

  “But…” James said.

  “But it does feel good to have a star on my chest again, even if it is a deputy’s star,” Shaye said. “Been a while since I wore a shirt with the pin hole in it. What about you boys?”

  “I like it,” Thomas said without hesitation.

  “I thought you would, Thomas,” Shaye said.

  “You didn’t think I would, Pa?” James asked.

  “I don’t know, James,” Shaye said. “You never seemed to take to the job the way Thomas did.”

  “You mean because he’s better with a gun?”

  “Not just that,” Shaye said. “Your ma and I just always thought you’d get an education. You have the potential to be better than this—maybe a lawyer.”

  “A lawyer?” James asked. “Me? Really?”

  “You never thought about it?” Shaye asked.

  “Not really.”

  “You’re smart enough for it, James,” Shaye said.

  “I agree with Pa,” Thomas said. “I can see us both workin’ for the law, James: me outside the courtroom and you inside. You are the smart one. You just haven’t had a chance to use your smarts because you had to pick up a gun.”

  James stared at his big brother and asked, “You really feel that way?”

  “Sure, why not? You took to book learnin’ more than Matthew and me ever did. I don’t mind admittin’ that.”

  “You could still do it, James,” Shaye said. “Think about it.”

  “I will, Pa,” James promised.

  “What are you gonna tell the town council, Pa?” Thomas asked, changing the subject to something more immediate.

  “Nothing,” Shaye said. “It’s up to the sheriff, not me, to make them understand what’s happening—or what might happen.”

  “Fellers like that,” Thomas said, “they usually understand what’s happenin’ better than what might happen, don’t they? I mean, I don’t have that much experience, but that’s what I’ve seen in the places we’ve worked in.”


  “You’re right, Thomas,” Shaye said. “They just don’t have that much imagination.”

  It was very early and there were only a few more diners in the place, so when Riley Cotton appeared at the door, he attracted everyone’s attention.

  “Thought I might find you boys here,” he said, taking a seat.

  The waitress came hurrying over and asked, “Breakfast, Sheriff?”

  “Uh, sure, Connie, why not? Steak and eggs.”

  “Comin’ up.”

  “Something on your mind, Riley?” Shaye asked.

  “Yeah,” Cotton said. “I stopped by the telegraph office and asked the clerk to send a telegram to Highbinder.”

  “And? No answer yet?”

  “No answer at all.”

  “Could be there’s just nobody at the other end,” Thomas suggested.

  “I thought of that,” the lawman said, “but the clerk says that his signal is not getting through.”

  “Oh,” Shaye said.

  “What’s that mean?” James asked. “I mean, I know what it means for the signal not to get through, but what’s it mean to us?”

  “Well…” Cotton said. “your pa and I think that the gang may have killed Sheriff Coffey before they left Highbinder.”

  “And maybe they disabled the telegraph key?” James asked. “Or maybe that’s all they did.”

  “I sure hope you’re right, James,” Cotton said.

  “Whataya think, Pa?” James asked.

  “If Jeb Collier’s got Vic Delay riding with him,” Shaye said, “that man just looks for reasons to kill people.”

  “Is he a fast gun, Pa?” James asked.

  “More than a fast gun, James,” Shaye said. “He’s a killer. He likes it.”

  “I bet Thomas can take him,” James said. He turned to Cotton and added, “Thomas is fast and he hits what he shoots at every time.” There was pride in James’s tone.

  “Thanks, James,” Thomas said, “but I ain’t so high on tryin’ my hand with a fella like that.”

  “Smart man,” Shaye said. “You gotta look to avoid gunfights, not get into them.”

  “You ever avoid a gunfight, Pa?” James asked. “I mean, in your younger years?”

  “Every chance I got, boy,” Shaye said. “Every chance I got.”