Pearl River Junction

by Robert J. Randisi

  James took his hat off and set it underneath his chair, then ran his hand through his hair.

  “I reckon we got to talk more, brother,” he said. “I didn’t know you felt the same way I do.”

  “You’re right, little brother,” Thomas said. “We do have to talk more—to each other and probably to Pa too.”

  “God,” James said, “we’ve spent the better part of a year here, not really knowin’ what each other was thinkin’? That’s sad. Thomas, I woulda told anybody that we was a close family.”

  “Reckon we ain’t as close as we thought we were at all.”

  James was going to say something else, but the waiter came over and asked what they wanted. Thomas ordered three steak and egg breakfasts and a pot of coffee.

  “He acts like we ain’t never even been in here before,” James complained, “and I know he’s waited on us more’n once.”

  “James, this letter is our chance to get out of this town,” Thomas said. “All three of us.”

  “Yeah, but…do you really think this gal’s baby could be Matthew’s?”

  “No, I don’t,” Thomas said, “but I think Pa is gonna be the one to decide that. And I guess this is gonna depend on how bad he wants to be a grandpa.”

  Dan Shaye sent a couple of telegrams to the town of Epitaph, Texas: one to the man who had replaced him as sheriff when he and the boys left and one to the mayor, Charles Garnett. One or both of them would be able to check with the authorities in Pearl River Junction to find out if a gal named Belinda Davis was still living there.

  He told the clerk he’d be at the café across the street when a reply came in and then left to join his boys for breakfast. Crossing the street, he found himself thinking about Mary and how she’d longed for a grandchild. She’d always wondered which of her sons would marry first and make her a grandmother.

  “Thomas,” she would say, “because he’s the oldest and the most charming.”

  Then, on another day, she’d say, “Probably James. He’s the most sensitive and romantic.”

  But Shaye could not ever remember her guessing that it would be Matthew. His middle son was neither charming, nor was he romantic. Matthew, to the day he died, was childlike himself and never gave any indication that he’d change. The probability that he’d sired a child seemed small, and yet Shaye felt compelled to check it out for himself. If there was another Shaye out there…after all, they’d lost two in two years, hadn’t they?

  By the time Dan Shaye reached the table in the café, there were three steak and eggs plates on the table.

  “Good,” he said, seating himself, “you went ahead and ordered.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and drank half of it down.

  “You get the telegrams sent?’ Thomas asked around a mouthful of steak and eggs.

  “Yep,” Shaye said, “I sent two to Epitaph. Either the sheriff or the mayor should be able to help us find out if this Belinda is still in Pearl River Junction.”

  “And if she is?” James asked. “Then we’ll go there?”

  “We’ll outfit and leave tomorrow morning,” Shaye said. He stopped with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth and looked at his two sons. “That is, unless you boys would rather not go?”

  “No, no, Pa,” Thomas said. “We wanna go.”

  “Yeah,” James said. “We definitely wanna go.”

  Shaye put the food in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

  “You boys have no desire to be ranchers, I know,” Shaye said, “but that other life…the law…it’s cost us too much.”

  “We know, Pa,” Thomas said. “We know.”

  “I’ve always said you could make your own decisions,” Shaye went on. “You don’t have to stay on this ranch with me.”

  “We know that, Pa,” James said. “We’ve stayed because we want to.”

  “And we’ll go with you to Pearl River Junction for the same reason,” Thomas added.

  “Well,” Shaye said, pouring more coffee, “whether we do that or not remains to be seen. Maybe we’ll know by the time we finish breakfast.”

  There didn’t seem much else to discuss, so the three men dug in and enjoyed their breakfasts, ignoring the fact that they were still the center of attention in the room.

  5

  Sheriff Adam Kennedy looked up as the door to his office opened and his deputy, Lyle Canton, entered. The look on Canton’s unlined young face gave his news away.

  “Where are they?”

  “How did you know?” Canton asked.

  “I can tell by looking at you when any of the Shayes are in town. Who is it this time? Or is it more than one?”

  “All three.”

  “All three?”

  Canton nodded with great satisfaction.

  “What should we do?” the deputy asked.

  “It’s been what…a year since they settled here? And nothing’s gone wrong, has it? No bodies, not even any shots.”

  “Yeah, but the mayor—”

  “The mayor is an old woman.”

  “Sheriff—”

  “Come on, Lyle,” Kennedy said. “He’s been mayor a year longer than I’ve been sheriff—and I’ve been sheriff for twelve years. After all that time I can say what I like.”

  “Yeah, but he’s worried,” Canton said. “They’ve got a reputation for—”

  “I know what the Shayes have a reputation for, Lyle,” Kennedy said. “Just relax. I’ll have a look.”

  “I can go over to the café,” Canton said. “I saw them goin’ in there. First the two sons, then the father.”

  “Like I said, Lyle,” Kennedy said, “relax. You stay here.” The sheriff stood up, hitched up his gun belt, and put his hat on. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “Sheriff—”

  “Just watch the office, Lyle,” Kennedy said. “I’ll be back.”

  The sheriff left the unhappy deputy sitting behind the desk and walked toward the café. He remembered the day the Shayes rode into town. He recognized Dan Shaye from one dealing they’d had when both men wore badges. Shaye had tracked a man this far and together they’d arrested him. Since then Kennedy had heard about all Dan Shaye and his sons had been through, about the men they’d killed. Their presence in town made Mayor Ben Carter very nervous, and then when Shaye announced their intention to buy the old Tarver place, Carter went from nervous to scared.

  “They’re gonna bring trouble, Adam,” the mayor said.

  “That remains to be seen, Ben,” Kennedy had replied. “Why don’t we just wait and see what happens?”

  What happened was that, for the most part, they remained on their ranch, came to town for supplies and—occasionally—for a meal, and the trouble Ben Carter had been afraid of never materialized. At least, not yet. Still, that didn’t stop Adam Kennedy from talking with any of the Shayes who came into town. Yesterday he’d spoken briefly to Dan. Today, all three of them were in town. Maybe something was finally brewing.

  When Kennedy entered the café, his appearance drew the eyes of the other diners to him and away from Dan Shaye and his boys. The lawman wondered how the Shayes could even stand coming to town at all. Not only did they have to deal with his presence every time, but with the stares from the rest of the townsfolk, who—like the mayor—were waiting for lead to fly.

  “Sheriff,” Dan Shaye said, “I’ve been expecting you. Have some coffee with us.”

  Kennedy pulled out the fourth chair at the table and sat down. He accepted the cup of coffee Thomas Shaye handed him.

  “Two days in a row,” Kennedy said to Shaye. “That’s kind of unusual.”

  “I guess everyone else must feel the same way,” Shaye said.

  “Why don’t they just all come over and join us?” James said. “It’s like they’re sitting with us anyway.”

  Kennedy and Shaye exchanged a glance. They were roughly the same age and they both understood the way the people of Winchester felt. Shaye had dealt with it himself as a lawman. Whenever somebody with a reputat
ion came to town, trouble usually followed. However, Shaye was beginning to wonder how long he and the boys had to be part of this community before the stares and the fear went away.

  “Anything in particular bring you back?” Kennedy asked.

  “Telegrams,” Shaye said. “I had to send a couple. We’re waiting for the replies now.”

  “Waitin’ for good news or bad news?”

  “Depends on how you look at it,” Shaye said. “We get the right reply for you and the townspeople and we’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

  “Leaving?” Kennedy asked. “For good?”

  “I don’t know,” Shaye said. “Probably not, but for a while. Long enough to give you all a breather.”

  Kennedy put his coffee cup down.

  “I know it’s been going on a long time, Dan,” he said, then looked at the boys as well. “I kinda thought it would wear off by now.”

  “So did I,” James said.

  “I didn’t,” Thomas said.

  They all looked at him.

  “This town hasn’t felt right from the beginning, Pa,” Thomas said. “I didn’t want to say anything, but—”

  “You should have said something, Thomas,” his father said, “right from the start. What about you, James?”

  “I…agree with Thomas, Pa…b-but I don’t feel as strongly as he does about it.”

  “This is a good town,” Kennedy told them. “You may not believe that now, but it is. We’ve just never had anyone like…well, like you living here before.”

  Shaye looked at his boys and then at the lawman. Finally, he looked around, saw that although the number of diners had thinned out, they were still the center of attention.

  Maybe he should have noticed this from the beginning as well.

  Shaye had seen the old Tarver place the first time he’d come to Winchester, tracking Dolph Jordan. Sheriff Kennedy had helped him take Jordan in, but before heading back to Texas with his prisoner, Shaye had seen the run-down ranch and thought it was the kind of place he could take Mary and the boys to. Later, once he’d returned to Epitaph, he’d forgotten about the place—until last year. Once he decided that he and the boys should stop carrying stars, he remembered the vacant Tarver ranch outside of Winchester, Wyoming. When he brought the boys here, he became so enamored with the idea of fixing up the old ranch that he hadn’t seen or felt what they did when they first rode into town.

  Now, sitting in the café with the boys and the sheriff, waiting for the answers to his telegrams, he realized what a mistake he’d made. But maybe it was too late, because if it turned out that Belinda Davis’s baby was Matthew’s, they were going to have to have someplace to bring her and the baby, a home for the child to grow up in, someplace that was not so close to the painful memories of Epitaph.

  So much depended on what happened with Belinda Davis—and on whether or not it turned out he was a grandfather.

  6

  “I’m tired of waitin’,” James said.

  Sheriff Kennedy had left them and they had ordered another pot of coffee. They were almost to the bottom of that pot and Shaye was talking about ordering still another.

  “I can’t drink any more coffee, Pa,” Thomas said.

  “Ah…neither can I,” Shaye admitted. “Okay, let’s pay the check and get out of here.”

  Thomas and James stopped on the boardwalk outside the café to wait for their father. While they were waiting, they both saw the clerk from the telegraph office crossing the street toward them.

  “Hey,” Thomas said as the man started to go by them, “is that the reply for Dan Shaye?”

  “Yes, sir,” the man said, “he wanted me to bring it right over to him.”

  “That’s okay,” Thomas said, “we’ll take it.”

  “But he said—”

  “It’s okay,” James said. “We’re his sons.”

  “Oh…o-okay.” The clerk handed the telegram to Thomas, turned, and went back across the street.

  “You boys ready?” Shaye said, coming out behind them.

  Thomas turned to Shaye, holding the telegram.

  “You got an answer, Pa.”

  Shaye took the yellow piece of paper from his son and unfolded it.

  “What’s it say?” James asked.

  “Just an answer from Mayor Garnett,” Shaye said. “He says he’ll check on the girl and get back to me later today.”

  “Damn,” James said. “So what do we do now?”

  “We stay in town and wait.”

  “We’re gonna make people nervous, Pa,” Thomas said.

  “That’s too bad,” Shaye said, refolding the telegram and putting it in his shirt pocket. “Boys, I’m sorry I’ve been so blind about this town.”

  “That’s okay, Pa,” Thomas said. “We know how you feel about the ranch, about wearin’ a badge again.”

  “I tell you what we’re going to do,” Shaye said. “Let’s get outfitted to hit the trail.”

  “We going to Pearl River Junction?”

  “I figure we’re going to have to go, one way or another,” Shaye said. “If she’s not still there, it’s the last place we know she was. Maybe somebody there will be able to tell us where she went. We’ll know better when we hear from Garnett again. Meanwhile, let’s go over to the general store and get some supplies.”

  They stepped down from the boardwalk together into the street and started across.

  From the window of the sheriff’s office, Deputy Canton watched as the Shayes left the café and crossed the street.

  “Looks like they got an answer,” he said over his shoulder to Sheriff Kennedy.

  “Lyle, get away from the window.”

  Canton turned and looked at the sheriff.

  “Don’t you think I should follow them, see where they’re goin’?” he asked. “What they’re gonna do?”

  “I think you should leave them alone,” Kennedy said. “I think we should all just leave them alone. They haven’t done a thing wrong since they got here.”

  Canton gave Kennedy a funny look.

  “Look, Lyle,” the sheriff said, sitting back in his chair, “you want to follow them? Be my guest.”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t talk to them unless they talk to you,” Kennedy instructed. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And try not to be obvious, Lyle,” Kennedy said.

  “I won’t be,” Canton said, “I promise.”

  The eager young deputy was out the door before Kennedy could ask him if he knew what the word “obvious” meant.

  7

  “What are you lookin’ at?” James asked Thomas.

  They were in the general store and Thomas was standing at the front window, looking out.

  “The deputy,” Thomas said. “He followed us here. He’s across the street.”

  They both turned and looked at their father, who was standing at the counter.

  “Think Pa saw him?” James asked.

  “If I saw him, Pa saw him,” Thomas said. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. He’s not gonna do anythin’.”

  “Think the sheriff sent him?”

  “No,” Thomas said. “I think Pa and the sheriff have an understandin’. The deputy’s on his own.”

  “You boys lookin’ at the deputy?” Shaye asked, coming over to join them.

  “Yeah, Pa,” James said. “You want me to go talk to him?”

  “No,” Shaye said, “let him be.”

  “Are we finished here, Pa?” Thomas asked.

  “They’re holding our order for us,” Shaye said. “Let’s go back to the telegraph office and see if anything else has come in.”

  The three of them walked down the street to the office with the deputy behind them.

  Mayor Ben Carter opened the door to the sheriff’s office and marched right in.

  “Mornin’, Ben,” Kennedy said.

  “The Shayes are in town, Adam,” Carter said brusquely. “Have you seen them?”

  �
��Saw them and spoke to them.”

  “What do they want?”

  “To be left alone, I guess.”

  “No, I mean—”

  “I know what you mean, Ben,” the lawman said. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll pour you a cup of coffee.”

  “I don’t want to sit down,” the mayor said and then promptly sat down. Kennedy went to the coffeepot, poured a cup, and handed it to the man.

  “Ben,” he said, “Dan Shaye and his boys have lived here for over a year. Don’t you think it’s time you gave them a break?”

  “As soon as we let our guard down,” Carter said, “somethin’ will happen. Mark my words.”

  “They’ve been law-abidin’ citizens since they got here.”

  “I know that,” the mayor said, ”but that don’t mean trouble won’t come huntin’ them, does it?”

  Kennedy sat himself back behind his desk.

  “Tell me somethin’,” he said. “How would you feel if they were wearin’ badges?”

  “Badges?” Carter asked. “What badges?”

  “Deputy’s badges.”

  “Deputy’s—you mean here? In Winchester?”

  “That’s what I mean.”

  “Well…” Carter frowned, scratched his head. “If they were lawmen here, I guess that wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, if folks knew they were on the side of the law, I guess that’d make ’em…less fearful, don’t ya think?”

  “I suppose so,” Kennedy said. “I mean, if we endorsed them, that might put folks at ease…”

  “Why don’t you ask them?”

  “You’re the mayor,” Kennedy said, “you ask ’em.”

  “Me? I—I can’t.”

  “Have you ever talked with Dan Shaye at all since he and his boys arrived here?”

  “Well…no…”

  “With either of his sons?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Carter hesitated, then said, “That’s always been your job.”

  “Well…it may not matter anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “They might be leavin’.”

  “Leavin’? When?”

  “Probably tomorrow.”

  “For good?”

  “I don’t know,” Kennedy said. “They didn’t say anything about sellin’ their property. Might just be a temporary thing.”