“Can’t or won’t?” Mackey looked at him. “There’s a difference.”
“Won’t,” Underhill admitted. “If that diminishes me in your eyes, then that’s the way it has to be. But you’ve got two good eyes of your own. What do they tell you about what’s going on around here?”
Mackey knew they were beyond the politeness of posturing. “They tell me that James Grant is up to something and whatever it is will cause no end of trouble for us.”
“Sounds like those eyes of yours tell you a lot. Mine tell me the same thing.”
Mackey didn’t know why he felt relieved that the big man agreed with him, but he did. “Then why the hell do you still work for him?”
Underhill pointed out at the bustling ranch. “For this. I’ve never been part of something new. Every place I’ve ever lived has been settled. Hell, even Texas is fairly tame by now. But this is something new. A man only gets a chance like this once in his life if he’s lucky, and I intend on making the most of mine.”
Mackey couldn’t blame Underhill for wanting to be part of something like this, even if Grant was involved. “No sin in that.”
Underhill was not done talking. “I know a lot of people blame Van Dorn and Grant for Tent City. But it won’t be there forever, and there’ll be plenty of jobs and houses for people once the spring comes. No one could’ve figured out how many people would’ve flocked to town once word of Mr. Rice’s investment got out. Even you were surprised and you’ve lived here your whole life.”
“I was,” Mackey admitted. “I thought there’d be a few people at first, the way there always was in the past, but not this many. Not enough to build themselves a slum, anyway.”
“They’ll be in houses soon enough,” Underhill said. “I’ve seen the plans, Aaron, and I promise you, Grant will take care of them.”
“After he takes care of himself first.” Mackey asked. “I know the man, Walter. I know the type.”
“Then you know what a man like him can do,” Underhill said. “Maybe he’s a bit too slick for my liking, but built buildings don’t lie. Neither do the new shops and businesses that have opened up. The purses of the people who own them and work in them jingle, Aaron. There’s no lying about that. The people love him, and he’s a man who likes to be loved. So what if he likes to hear his name chanted? So what if he wants to run for mayor?”
Mackey’s stomach dropped. “So it’s official?”
“Nothing’s official. I don’t know if he’s running or not. I hear the same rumors you do. But if I knew something one way or the other, I’d admit it. I wouldn’t tell you what it was, but I wouldn’t lie about being in the dark. You know I’m not a liar, Aaron.”
Mackey remembered the day the big man had come to town. He had lied about his reasons for hunting down the Bourdreaux brothers, but even that had been something closer to a fib than a lie. He thought if he could bring the brothers back with him to Texas that it could get him his old job back. But things had not worked out that way, and Underhill came clean during Darabont’s siege. To the best of Mackey’s knowledge, Underhill had never lied to him since, and he had no reason to believe the man was lying now.
“I know you don’t lie. I just don’t know what side you’ll come down on if it comes time to pick sides.”
“As long as it’s legal and it’s what Mr. Grant wants, I’ll do what he pays me to do. I may not like it and I may not agree with it, but I don’t have any choice. I take his money, I’ve got to take his orders, too.”
Mackey had imagined he was going to say something like that. It was a fair statement from a fair man. He could not ask any more of him than that.
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.”
“Let’s hope.”
Mackey cleared his throat and said, “I need a favor from you. I need you to watch the town while Billy and I are out of town on business.”
“Both of you? Never heard of both of you needing to go at the same time before.”
“Never had a request like this before.”
Underhill let out a long, deep breath as he looked out over the ranch. “This a town matter or another matter?”
“Related to the town is all I can say,” Mackey told him. “Wish I could share more than that, but I can’t.”
“A request that big must come from someone pretty high up. Someone like Mr. Rice.”
“Like I said, I’m not at liberty to say.”
“But if it came from Mr. Rice, Mr. Grant or Mr. Van Dorn should’ve heard about it,” Underhill went on. “If they don’t know about it, then maybe Mr. Rice sent it directly to you for a reason.”
“Wish I could say more on the subject,” Mackey said, “but I can’t. I’m sure you understand.”
Again, Underhill watched the livestock mill about their respective fields. “I don’t know what I understand anymore. I understood things when Mr. Rice was here. He’s a plainspoken man. Tough and fair, but you always know what angle he’s got on any given situation. I learned a lot from him. Wish he could’ve stayed on. I would’ve liked to have learned more.”
“And what about since he left?”
“Feels different somehow,” Underhill said. “Everything he promised is happening, but it feels wrong. Like two things are happening at once. It feels like I’m helping something to fail when all I’m trying to do is help it live.” He leaned over the side of his horse and let fly with a brown stream of tobacco. “I don’t know if that makes any sense. Never been much of a hand at words.”
“Makes sense to me,” Mackey admitted. “Maybe this business Billy and me are going on will help bring clarity to all of that mud. So, can I tell the mayor you’ll fill in for us while we’re gone?”
“Does Doc Ridley know why you’re leaving?”
“No. And neither does James Grant or Silas Van Dorn. And if they ask, I won’t tell them, either.”
Underhill turned and looked at him for the first time since Mackey rode to him. “If I asked, would you tell me? Just me?”
“Can’t do that, Walter. It’s not my secret to tell.”
“Figured you’d say something like that.” He went back to looking out over the range. “You go about your business, Aaron. I’ll watch the town for you. Whether it’s a month or a year, I’ll be here. Just do whatever you have to do as quickly as possible. I have a feeling things are changing and not for the better. For any of us.”
* * *
Sandborne helped Mackey load his bedroll and provisions onto Adair. The Arabian was a spirited animal, and Sandborne was one of the few humans she tolerated. The other was Billy.
“It’s amazing that you can put all this stuff on her and don’t need to tether her to a post,” Sandborne said. “She just lets you saddle her without any bother at all.”
Mackey patted the mare’s neck. “Adair’s always been different. Guess I never treated her like other horses because I’ve never had to.”
“Still don’t know what you need all this stuff for, sheriff. I mean, you’re going to be on the train the whole time, aren’t you?”
Normally, Mackey did not encourage questions or second-guessing from anyone. But he knew Joshua Sandborne was not just anyone. Mackey and the others had found the boy wandering the burnt-out wreckage of the JT Ranch where he had worked. Despite a bad head injury, he had refused to ride back to town to the doctor. Instead, he healed on the trail and helped him defeat Darabont and his men.
No, Mackey tolerated Sandborne’s prodding because he knew the boy was neither questioning his judgment nor arguing with him. He was a green kid with a curiosity about how and why certain things were done. Given how the young man had been raised among cowpunchers and livestock, Mackey allowed the boy a certain amount of latitude when it came to asking questions.
“You don’t plan just for what’s supposed to happen, Joshua. You plan for what might happen. Carrying a bedroll and a night’s worth of provisions won’t hurt Adair any. She’ll be unsaddled in the boxcar with the other
horses most of the time anyway. I just feel better having something and not needing it than needing it and not having it.”
“I never heard that one before,” the young man admitted. “Think I might use that in the future.”
“Got something you can use in the meantime.” Mackey reached into his pocket and pulled out a tin star. “Raise your right hand.”
Sandborne’s eyes lit up at the sight of authority in the sheriff’s hand. “Is that for me?”
The boy’s solemnity drove out any words or oaths Mackey had devised for the ceremony from his mind. “Just swear you’ll do whatever Underhill tells you while I’m gone, but you’ll protect Mrs. Campbell and her guests most of all. Understand?”
The boy cleared his throat and raised his right hand even higher. “I swear it before God and anyone.”
“Good. Now put your goddamned hand down. You look like Stonewall Jackson.”
Mackey pinned the star on Sandborne’s vest and gave the boy a slight tap on the chin. “Make sure you keep it visible at all times when you’re not working for Mrs. Campbell, understand? Anyone comes in here bothering her while I’m gone, you see to it she’s protected. Don’t worry about getting in trouble. That star makes it legal.”
“I won’t let you down, sheriff.” Sandborne surprised Mackey by welling up. “Never had this kind of responsibility before in my life.”
“Good. Now head back inside and see what the ladies need you to do.”
Mackey noticed Katherine standing inside the doorway of the hotel and wondered just how long she had been there. “Guess you saw our swearing-in ceremony just now.”
“Such formality is usually reserved for royalty,” she teased from the safety of the hotel. “I’m honored to have been a witness to history.”
“Sarcasm.” Mackey grinned as he pulled himself up into the saddle. “That’s what that is.”
“Is it sarcasm to wish I could talk you out of going? Or would that just be selfish?”
“The feeling would be mutual,” Mackey admitted. “Going’s not my idea. You know that. Want to say good-bye?”
She smiled as she took another step back into the hotel. Today, even the porch was too much for her, and he didn’t force the issue. “We already said good-bye this morning, Aaron. Twice.”
He looked around to see if anyone had been within earshot. “Katie! Jesus!”
She looked out at him from behind the half-closed door. He wished she would step out onto the porch. She always looked beautiful in the daylight. He only hoped one day soon she would be ready for that big step.
“Come back as soon as you can, sheriff. I’ll look forward to welcoming you home with equal enthusiasm.”
She quietly shut the front door of the hotel, leaving him speechless.
He snapped out of it when he heard a man clear his throat behind him. He turned to see Billy and Underhill grinning at him from horseback.
Underhill spoke first. “Never saw that shade of red on you, Aaron. Looks good on you.”
Mackey noticed the deputy badge pinned to his coat. He looked at Billy. “That one of yours?”
“Had it from the last time you left,” Underhill said. “What’d you swear that Sandborne boy in for anyway? Hope you’re not expecting there to be that much trouble while you’re gone because I sure as hell ain’t. And that boy won’t be much good if there is.”
“I’m not expecting anything out of the ordinary.” Mackey brought Adair about and began riding toward the station at an easy pace. Billy and Underhill fell in beside him. “That’s why I deputized him. And I wouldn’t go running down Sandborne. He’s a hell of a lot tougher than he looks. He’s eager and honest and I think he might make a decent lawman someday.”
“Handles himself pretty well in a gunfight, too,” Billy added. “Something to be said for that.”
“I’ll swing by and have a talk with him after I drop you two undesirables off at the train,” Underhill said. “As long as he stays out of my way and doesn’t start believing he’s Wyatt Earp, we should be fine.”
“Told him to mostly protect the hotel unless you need him for something extra,” Mackey explained. “That might put him cross with your boss, but the kid’s got to learn sometime.”
Underhill brought up the big sorrel short. “Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Mackey reined in Adair. “Means your boss has been paying visits to Mrs. Campbell while I’m not there. First it was to buy the hotel. Next it was to ask her to change the name. But I think he’s got other things on his mind. I don’t want him encouraged by my absence to bother her anymore.”
Underhill didn’t look happy. “First I’m hearing about any interest Mr. Grant’s had in the hotel or Mrs. Campbell. But now that I’m aware of it, I’ll keep an eye on it. He’s got no call to be bothering that woman. She’s been through enough.”
The three men resumed their ride toward the station. Billy was the first to break the uneasy silence that had settled over them. “Didn’t peg you for the type to bite the hand that feeds you, Walter.”
“And I hope you didn’t peg me for the type who sits idle and allows a widow to be bothered by an opportunist. I’ve got no illusions about exactly who and what James Grant is, boys. If I can make a few bucks by helping him out while the town prospers, so be it. But wages don’t buy a man. They sure as hell don’t buy me.”
Mackey and Billy traded looks. Mackey said, “Didn’t think it did, Walter. But it’s a relief to hear you say it.”
“Just make sure you don’t cross him unjustly,” Underhill added. “I know you don’t like him, but that doesn’t give you cause to harass him or block his way. That badge doesn’t give you the right, either. I’ll stick with him if I have to, even if it’s against you. I’d hate like hell for that to happen.”
And as was his custom, Billy said what Mackey was thinking. “So would we, Walter. So would we.”
The three men rode the rest of the way to the station in silence.
Chapter 12
Mackey was surprised that Mr. Rice had arranged for he and Billy to share one of the company’s private railcars. It had a separate sleeping berth for each man, with shared sitting and dining areas. The bar was well stocked with liquor and a humidor full of fine cigars.
“Hell,” Billy said when the head conductor brought them aboard after they had stowed their mounts in the boxcar. “This is nicer than some hotels I’ve stayed in.”
As ornate as the car was, Mackey was not happy. “Hard to travel unnoticed in a setup like this.”
“Mr. Rice’s orders, sheriff,” Kennard, the head conductor, told them. He had wisps of gray hair poking out from beneath his cap and was about fifty pounds overweight. The sheriff wondered how well he was able to move his bulk through the narrow passageways and aisles of the train, but since he was the head conductor, he must manage somehow. “He wanted to make sure you and your man here traveled in comfort, so we were ordered to hook up this car in Chicago.” He rose on his tiptoes as he said, “Orders came from headquarters in New York City. Came direct, too.”
But Mackey was still thinking of something Kennard had said earlier. “Mr. Sunday is not my man. He is the deputy sheriff of Dover Station and is here at the request of Mr. Rice. That means he is to be afforded every consideration and accommodation you would make for me. Conversely, any insult or slight of him is the same as insulting or slighting me. Do I strike you as a man who suffers insults and slights lightly, Mr. Kennard?”
The head conductor clearly was not accustomed to being spoken to in such a dismissive manner. “No, sir. You do not. I meant no offense either to you or Deputy Sunday here.”
“Good. Thanks for showing us in. We’ll make ourselves comfortable and let you know if we need anything further.”
But Kennard did not leave right away. “I’m afraid there’s something else, sheriff. Two things, actually.” He took a letter from his coat pocket and handed it to him. “This is a letter for you that came straight from
the hand of Mr. Rice himself. It has been sealed in wax by his own crest.”
Mackey flicked the wax over the flap of the envelope to see if it had been broken. It hadn’t. “And the second thing?”
“A Mr. Lagrange of the Pinkerton Detective Agency is waiting to see you. Like you, he is also here on orders directly from Mr. Rice.”
Mackey wondered why Rice would have a Pinkerton man on board and two lawmen? Maybe the note would tell him more. “Tell Mr. Lagrange I’ll see him as soon as we pull away from the station. Until then, I want privacy.” Mackey turned his attention to the envelope. “That will be all, Kennard.”
The head conductor thanked him and quietly closed the car door behind him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Billy smiling at him and said, “Not one word, deputy.”
“Damn,” Billy said anyway. “Watching you light that West Point candle is a thing of beauty. Standing straight, shoulders back and giving orders. Makes me feel like we’re back in uniform. Feel like I should salute or something.”
Mackey glanced around the car. He couldn’t swear to it, but he was pretty sure the wall sconces were made of gold. “If we were still in uniform, we’d be back with the horses. Not in fancy digs like this.”
“Still nice to see you dress down that fat man the way you did.”
“How about you pull out some of those newspaper articles and the telegrams we got from Murphy’s office. I’d like to compare that list of robberies with the telegrams before we talk to that Pinkerton man.”
Billy opened a bag and immediately began pulling out papers and laying them on the desk. “Why do you think Mr. Rice put another lawman on this train if we’re here? That make any sense to you?”
“Robbing these trains doesn’t make any sense to me,” Mackey said. “With the amount of troops Rice’s trains move throughout the territory, it’s a miracle they haven’t attacked a troop train yet. Gotten themselves all shot to hell.”
Billy stopped unpacking telegrams from the bag. “Or maybe it’s not such a miracle after all. Maybe they’ve been tipped off?”
Dark Territory Page 10
