“I’ll put your gun in your dead hand,” Shaye said. “It won’t make a difference, though. You’ll still be dead.”
Aaron’s face went dead as he realized Shaye meant it.
“You’re the one who said you had a better than even chance,” Shaye reminded him.
“I hope my brother kills your sons,” Aaron said cruelly, “and I hope his horse caved in your wife’s—”
Shaye drew, surprising Aaron, who thought he’d be able to throw the man off so he could beat him to the draw. Suddenly panicked, Aaron grabbed for his gun. He didn’t know that Shaye let him get to it, allowed him to draw it before he fired his first shot. The bullet hit Aaron in the side as he was still twisted around from reaching for the gun. He grunted, but he was a bull of a man and it would take more than one shot to put him down. He kept coming around, gun in hand, and Shaye fired again. This time the bullet took him under the chin, and there was no need for a third shot.
Shaye came downstairs with both sets of saddlebags on his shoulders.
“He dead?” Ed asked.
Shaye walked to Trudy, who was dressed but disheveled. He’d already taken some money from the saddlebags upstairs, and now he shoved it into her hands. It was two handfuls and he didn’t even know how much he was giving her.
“That cover the day?” he asked.
“Thanks, mister.”
He headed for the door.
“Hey,” Ed shouted, “is he dead?”
Shaye kept going. He figured if he got a fresh horse from the livery and rode all night, he could get back to James by tomorrow afternoon. If he didn’t kill the horse, maybe late afternoon. As long as James didn’t try to move, he was probably fine.
But there was still Thomas and Matthew to worry about.
“Hey,” the bartender shouted, “if he’s dead, you can’t just leave ’im there.”
Shaye was already outside so nobody in the saloon heard him say, “Just watch me.”
71
Thomas and Matthew rode into Oklahoma City one week later. Thomas had been able to find enough of the distinct hoofprints to keep them on track. They had also come across one campsite in Indian Territory that showed the hoofprint, and Thomas realized that the rider was now alone.
“What does that mean, Thomas?” Matthew had asked. “Is it Ethan Langer, or the man who was ridin’ with him?”
Of course, there was nothing in the cold camp that could tell them that. Thomas mounted up after inspecting the ground around the dead campfire.
“We’re gonna have to assume it’s Ethan, Matthew,” he said. “After all, he’s headed in the direction of Oklahoma City.”
“If it’s the wrong man, Pa’s gonna be real mad.”
“I think, when we explain the situation to Pa,” Thomas said, “he’ll understand.”
“I wonder how him and James are doin’?”
“Better than we are, I hope.”
“Hey, I just thought of somethin’.”
“What?”
“Where are we supposed to meet up with them when we’re all done?”
“Don’t worry, Matthew,” Thomas said. “Pa pulled me aside before we left and said that we could all find each other in Epitaph.”
The thought of seeing his father and brother again, and in Epitaph, made Matthew doubly happy.
“That’s good,” he said, “that’s real good.”
Along the way they’d had one encounter with a Cherokee hunting party—five braves—just as they had their last time through the territory.
“Are these the same ones, Thomas?” Matthew asked nervously.
“I don’t know, Matthew,” Thomas said, “but we’ll treat them the same way Pa treated the others.”
Through sign language, the Cherokee indicated they were hungry. Thomas offered them some beef jerky, as he had seen his father do, but they wanted more. He ended up offering them everything else they had, but kept the beef jerky for themselves. The Cherokee seemed to like this idea and made the bargain. They left the brothers in peace.
“Indians don’t seem so bad,” Matthew said, and they rode their separate ways.
“I guess nobody is, if you treat them fairly.”
As they rode into Oklahoma City, Matthew said, “What do we do now, Thomas? We still don’t know whose trail we followed.”
“If it’s Ethan’s trail,” Thomas replied, “he’ll go to his brother’s church.”
“So we have to go there?”
“Not yet,” Thomas said. “Let’s see if we can find a place to stay near there, and a place to board the horses.”
“Why don’t we just go in?”
“Because Ethan is dangerous,” Thomas said. “Because we don’t have Pa with us and we have to do this right. If we just go walkin’ in there, he might start shootin’. What if there’s other people in the church? What if his brother, the priest, gets shot?”
“Okay, Thomas,” Matthew said, “you’re the boss. I just got one other question.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you remember where the church is?”
Thomas frowned, thought a moment, and said, “We’ll ask somebody.”
Ethan Langer awoke with a start and went for his gun. He sat straight up when he realized it wasn’t there. He looked around and saw he was in a room that was bare except for the bed he was on and a chest of drawers. The walls were stone, and the window a square cut out in the wall.
Was he in jail?
“What the—” he said, sitting up.
At that moment the thick wooden door opened and Father Vincent came in. “I heard you yell,” he said.
“Where the hell am I?” Ethan demanded.
“You’re in the church, Ethan,” Vincent said. “Don’t you remember? You got here yesterday.”
Ethan didn’t remember, and that bothered him. “Where the hell is my gun?”
Father Vincent winced at his brother’s language, but said, “In the top drawer.”
Ethan stood up, pulled the top drawer open, and removed his gun belt. He strapped it on and immediately felt better.
“And where are my saddlebags?”
“Bottom drawer.”
Ethan opened the drawer and found the saddlebags. He opened one, saw the cash, then closed it and the drawer.
“How long have I been here?”
“As I said,” Vincent responded, “you arrived yesterday. It’s only been one day.”
“Did I…say anything when I got here?”
“Only that you and Aaron had quarreled, and had gone your separate ways,” Vincent answered. “I’m sorry.”
“Never mind that,” Ethan said. “I don’t need him. What else did I say?”
“That you were still having those dreams, about the woman.”
Ethan rubbed his face vigorously with his hands. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, “that’s why I came here. You gotta help me get rid of her, Vincent. I—I’m startin’ to hear her when I’m awake.”
“She—She talks to you, Ethan?”
“She laughs at me!”
“I told you last time you were here how I thought you ought to proceed—”
“Never mind that,” Ethan said. “Tell me how to get rid of her.” He drew his gun and pointed it at his brother. “If you don’t help me, Vincent, so help me I’ll kill you.”
Father Vincent stared at his brother for a few moments, then said, “I believe you, Ethan. Put the gun away and I’ll try to think of a way to help you.”
“You better,” Ethan said. He holstered his gun, then looked at his brother and added, “You just better.”
72
Once they had their horses placed in a stable and had registered at a hotel near the church, Thomas and Matthew set off on foot. When they came within sight of the church, they stopped and discussed the best way to proceed.
“We can wait out here and see if we spot him going in or coming out,” Thomas said, “but I’m sure there are other ways in and out.”
“An
d we still don’t know for sure that it’s him,” Matthew pointed out. “If we followed the wrong man, he has no reason to come here.”
“That’s right,” Thomas said. “Matthew, we’ve got to find out if Ethan is in there, or we’re wasting our time. If we both go in there, Father Vincent might warn Ethan—if Ethan’s inside.”
“Then how do we find out?”
“We’ll ask around. Maybe somebody saw something.”
“That could take forever.”
“Then we better get started.”
They started to walk away, but Thomas abruptly put his hand on his brother’s chest to stop him.
“What’s wrong?”
“If we both leave and he’s in there, we might miss him,” Thomas said. “One of us has to stay here.”
“Which one?” Matthew asked.
“You,” Thomas said. “I’ll go and check the area.”
“Okay,” Matthew said.
“Pick a doorway and stay hidden,” Thomas said. “You’re so big, you’ll be noticed, but you’d be noticed going from stable to stable too.”
“Okay, I’ll stay,” Matthew said, “but tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“How do I recognize him? None of us has ever seen him, except for Pa.”
That stopped Thomas cold. He’d forgotten that he and Matthew had never even seen Ethan Langer.
“Okay,” he said, “we have his description from Pa, and we’ve seen the priest, his brother. He must look somethin’ like him.”
“Have you taken a good look at you, me, and James lately? Do we look like brothers?”
“Well, James and I do bear a certain resemblance—but that’s not important. Just keep an eye on the church. It’s pretty big, but so far we haven’t seen a lot of people around it. Maybe they only come on Sunday. Just keep an eye for anybody goin’ in and out and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” Matthew said, “but hurry.”
Thomas started away, then stopped.
“Matthew, if you think you see him, don’t approach him. Understand? Wait for me.”
“I understand.”
Thomas put his hand on his brother’s arm. “Don’t go near him without me.”
“I understand, Thomas.”
“All right.” Thomas took his hand back. “I’ll be right back.”
“Just find that horse so we know we’re in the right place.”
“If it’s here,” Thomas said, “I’ll find it.”
Inside the church, Ethan had left the back room and walked into the church with his brother.
“Nobody’s ever here,” Ethan said, looking around the cavernous interior of the church.
“This is a very large church,” Father Vincent said, “and a very poor parish.”
“Must not pay you very much.”
“I am not paid anything at all.”
Ethan turned and looked at his brother. “Did you see my saddlebags?”
“I told you they were in the bottom drawer.”
“I know that,” Ethan said. “Did you see what’s inside?”
“No.”
“You didn’t even take a peek?”
“Not even a peek.”
“There’s cash in there, Vincent,” Ethan said, “a lot of cash.”
“Stolen money.”
“Of course, but at least I have money. What do you have?”
“I have my faith,” Vincent said, “and I live in the service of God.”
“And you don’t need money?”
“I do not need money,” Vincent said, “but the church does.”
“Well, don’t expect to get any from me.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s good, because I don’t believe in charity.”
“Charity begins at home.”
“Well, you finally said something I agree with.”
Vincent fell silent for a moment, then said, “I have some things to do, Ethan.”
“Like what?”
“I have some visits to make with the sick,” the priest said. “I will be back later today.”
“What about me?” Ethan asked. “What about my—my problem?”
“We will take care of it when I return,” Vincent said.
Ethan grabbed Vincent’s arm and held it tightly. He was surprised at how hard it was.
“Promise?”
“I promise, Ethan.”
Vincent stared at his brother until Ethan removed his hand, and then the priest left the church.
Ethan sat down in the front pew and bowed his head. He wasn’t praying, he was just tired.
73
Thomas decided to start asking questions at the stable where he and Matthew had left their own horses. First, he checked the hooves of the other horses in the building and found nothing. He was about to leave when the liveryman came walking in on him.
“Hey,” he asked, “you want your horse?”
“No, thanks,” Thomas said. “I’ve got a question for you, though.”
“What?”
“Does the priest have any horses?”
“What?”
“The church,” Thomas said, “does the church have any horses?”
“They have a buckboard and a horse, I think.”
“Do you know where they leave the horse?”
“They got a small stable out back.”
“They have their own stable?”
“Yeah,” the man said.
“So if somebody was visiting the priest, they’d put his horse back there?”
The man shrugged beefy shoulders and said, “I guess so.” He scratched at the sweat in his salt and pepper beard. “You visiting somebody at the church? Want to move your horse? I’ll give you a discount to leave it here. Business ain’t been so good.”
“What can you tell me about the church?”
“Not much,” he said. “It’s poor, not too many people go there.”
“But the place is huge.”
“Yeah,” the man said, “it’s a big empty building.”
“Except for the priest.”
“Right, they got one priest.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Hey, you leavin’ your horse here?” the guy shouted after him.
“Yeah,” Thomas said, and ran out the door.
Matthew saw the priest leave, and backed into a doorway so the man wouldn’t see him. They’d only seen each other once, but Matthew knew that a man his size was hard to forget.
Once the priest was gone, Matthew thought about going inside. The church was obviously empty now, except maybe for Ethan Langer. He knew his brother Thomas was planning to do the same thing their father was planning to do—kill Ethan. But that was murder, and Matthew was still unable to accept that. If he went inside and caught Ethan Langer, maybe he could keep Thomas from becoming a murderer.
Thomas worked his way around behind the church and found the small shack they used as a stable. The buckboard was outside, and the horse was inside. In fact, two horses were inside, and when he saw that his heart began to race.
When he entered the small shack, he saw the saddle off to the side, but there were no saddlebags. He knew his father would know exactly which hoof to check, but he had to lift all four before he found the one he wanted. There was the distinct marking something had created on the horse’s hoof. The odds were now distinctly in favor of Ethan Langer being inside the church.
Father Vincent didn’t get very far from the church when he realized he’d forgotten his Bible, which he was going to need to offer comfort to Mrs. Anderson. He would never have forgotten it if he hadn’t been so distracted by the presence of his brother. He knew the best thing he could do for Ethan would be to turn him in to the law, but he just couldn’t. Somehow, he had to convince Ethan to do that himself.
He turned around and headed back. In order to get to the church, he had to pass by the small stable behind it. He thought he saw some movement inside, and went to take a look.<
br />
Matthew finally made his decision. He left the cover of the doorway and walked across the square to the church. Just outside the door, he slid his gun in and out of his holster, the way he had seen his father do a number times to be sure it wouldn’t stick. Then he opened the door and stepped inside.
Thomas stood in the small stable, wondering what his next move should be. He could return to Matthew, or he could approach the church from the back and take a look inside. While he was trying to decide, Father Vincent appeared.
“What are you doing here?”
Thomas turned, and Father Vincent saw his badge and remembered who he was. The priest’s heart began to beat faster.
“Hello, Father,” Thomas said.
“Deputy. What can I do for you? I thought you were long gone from here.”
“We were,” Thomas said, “but we tracked your brother right back to here.”
“My brother?”
“Ethan.”
The man shrugged. “Ethan is not here.”
“That’s a lie, Padre,” Thomas said. “I thought priests weren’t supposed to lie?”
Father Vincent bit his lip.
“But brothers, they lie for each other,” Thomas said. “I know, because I always used to lie for my brothers when we were kids. But we’re not kids anymore, and neither are you and Ethan.” He pointed. “That’s his saddle and that’s his horse. The horse leaves a very distinct hoofprint. See it? Almost like a star?”
Vincent did see it, and knew he couldn’t lie again.
“Where is he, Father?”
74
Matthew saw the man in the first pew sitting with his head bowed. His footsteps echoed as he approached the receptacle with the holy water. Out of reflex, he was going to dip his fingers and make the sign of the cross.
At the sound of the footsteps, Ethan Langer’s head jerked up. He stood and turned quickly. He saw a large man standing just inside the front doors. The sunlight coming through the stained-glass windows high above them reflected off the badge on the big man’s chest.
Ethan did not hesitate. He drew and fired.
Matthew had his fingertips in the holy water when the bullet hit him in the chest, just next to the badge he wore. He grunted and took a step back. He wasn’t sure what had happened. Confused, he looked down and saw the blood on his shirt. Still, it never occurred to him to reach for his gun.
Leaving Epitaph Page 19