Leaving Epitaph

by Robert J. Randisi

  “So you didn’t take any money from Ethan Langer to look the other way?”

  “N-No.”

  “Maybe to lie to any lawmen who might be looking for them?”

  “I told you, n-no. I never saw Ethan Langer.”

  “Or one of his men?” Shaye asked. “Like maybe…his segundo?”

  “What’s a segundo?” Matthew asked Thomas under his breath.

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Look, Shaye,” Carmondy said, holding both hands out in front of him, “if I knew that the Langer gang was here yesterday, I woulda told you. I swear.”

  “Want me to whomp him, Pa?” Matthew asked, taking a menacing step toward the local lawman.

  “Keep him away!” the man said. “Look, Shaye, I ain’t that brave, you know? I wouldn’t lie to you. I know your reputation around here.”

  “My reputation?”

  “Well…you are Shay Daniels, ain’tcha?”

  Shaye stared at the sheriff, then holstered his gun and said, “I used to be.”

  42

  Shaye left the sheriff’s office with his three sons following him.

  “Why are we leavin’, Pa?” Matthew asked.

  “I don’t think he was lying,” Shaye said. “He didn’t know that Langer had sent two of the gang into town for supplies.”

  “How can you be sure?” James asked.

  “I’m not,” Shaye said, “I just think he’s right. He’s not that brave—especially if he thought I was still…Shaye Daniels.”

  “So what do we do, Pa?” Matthew asked.

  “We’re just going to keep going the way we’ve been going, Matthew. Keep heading north.”

  They had ridden their horses over to the office, and now they stepped into the street and mounted up.

  “Say, James,” he said when they were mounted, “did that girl tell you what they bought?”

  “No, Pa,” James said. “I didn’t even think to ask.”

  “Me neither,” Matthew said.

  “Well,” Shaye said, “let’s go and ask her now, shall we?”

  James and Matthew argued about who should go back into the store and talk to Janie. Shaye finally told Thomas to dismount and do it.

  “I bet he comes out with a bar of soap,” James said.

  “You and your brother are going to use that soap,” Shaye warned him.

  “Aw, Pa—” Matthew said.

  “You bought it, you’re going to use it.”

  Matthew sulked and James smirked.

  “What are you smiling at?” Shaye asked. “That girl bamboozled both of you into buying things you didn’t need. You shouldn’t be looking so pleased with yourself.”

  Thomas came walking out empty-handed, looking proud of himself. He mounted up and looked at Shaye.

  “Can’t blame the boys for buyin’ that stuff, Pa,” he said. “That one’s a charmer.”

  “Didn’t charm you, though, huh?” Shaye asked.

  “Not that she didn’t try.”

  “Did you find out what those two Langer men bought?”

  “They pretty much did like we did,” Thomas said. “Some coffee and jerky, enough for a dozen men or more, but nothin’ big.”

  “That’s because they haven’t got far to go,” Shaye said. “We’re getting closer to our destination. Maybe even another couple of days.”

  “Finally,” Thomas said.

  “I can’t wait,” James said.

  Matthew remained silent. Shaye knew there was still some doubt going on inside his middle son. They’d all have to keep their promise to talk to him over the next couple of days. If he wasn’t totally convinced about what they were doing, Shaye was not going to let him face the Langer gang.

  “Let’s get going,” he said to his sons. “I want to put some miles between us and here before nightfall.”

  That night they camped in a clearing about sixty miles south of Salina. Shaye waited until they were all gathered around the fire, eating, before discussing their course of action.

  “We can make Salina by nightfall tomorrow,” he said, “and then one of us has to go in and see if the gang is there. I can’t do it, because both Langers might recognize me. One of you has to do it, and I’m going to let the three of you decide which one.”

  “I’ll go,” Matthew said right away.

  “No, I’ll go,” James said. “You’re too unsure about this, Matthew. Besides, you’re so big they’d notice you right away. I can blend in better.”

  “I’ll go,” Thomas said.

  “Why you?” James demanded.

  “I’m the oldest.”

  “That’s got nothin’ to do with it,” James said, then looked at Shaye and asked, “Does it, Pa?”

  “I said I was letting you three decide.”

  “James’s argument about you is a good one, Matthew,” Thomas said. “You’re too noticeable.”

  “And what about me?” James asked.

  “You’re too young.”

  “You can’t pull that on me, Thomas,” James said. “I got just as much right to go in as you have. We can both blend in.”

  “I’m better with a gun, James,” Thomas said. “Somethin’ might happen, and I’m better equipped to handle it than you.”

  James opened his mouth to argue, but his argument got trapped in his throat. He looked down at the gun in his holster. He knew he couldn’t best Thomas with a gun.

  “Sounds like you boys have made up your mind,” Shaye said. “Thomas, your brothers and I will camp outside of Salina tomorrow night. You go in, get a hotel room, and have a look around. If the gang—both parts of it—are there, they won’t be hard to see.” Shaye leaned forward and stared directly at his oldest son. “This is important—do not engage them. Do you understand?”

  “I’m not that foolish, Pa,” Thomas said. “I wouldn’t try to take them alone.”

  “That’s good,” Shaye said, “because it’s going to be hard enough for just the four of us to do it.”

  “Don’t worry,” Thomas said. “If they’re in Salina, I’ll come back and tell you.”

  “All right, then,” Shaye said. “It’s settled.”

  “What if they’re not there, Pa?” James asked.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, James. Let’s just take it one step at a time.”

  Shaye set the watches and gave Matthew the first. While Thomas and James turned in, though, he went and sat next to Matthew.

  “Mind if I have a last cup of coffee with you?” he asked.

  “Sure, Pa. I’ll get it for ya.”

  Matthew poured a cup full and handed it to his father, then poured one for himself.

  “You don’t really want coffee, do ya, Pa?”

  “No, Matthew,” Shaye said. “Pretty smart of you to know that.”

  “I’m not as smart as Thomas and James, Pa, or you,” Matthew said, “but I ain’t dumb.”

  “I never thought you were, Matthew. You have something you want to ask me, son?”

  “Why ain’t I as sure about this as you and Thomas and James, Pa?” Matthew said.

  “What part of it is bothering you?”

  “Well…the God part. You and Thomas are actin’ like there ain’t no God, and James don’t seem so sure anymore.”

  “And you are?” Shaye asked. “Sure, I mean, about there being a God?”

  “If there ain’t no God, Pa,” Matthew said, “then Ma was lyin’ to us all them years that she was takin’ us to church.”

  “And you don’t want to think of your mother as a liar, do you, Matthew?”

  “No, I don’t,” Matthew said, “but there’s more to it than that. I mean, if what you say about us maybe committin’ murder, then it’s gonna be a sin.”

  “A big sin, Matthew.”

  “And that don’t seem to bother you and James and Thomas.”

  “It bothers you?”

  “It’s like the biggest mortal sin of all, Pa!”

  “I know, son.”r />
  “We’ll all go to Hell!”

  “You have to understand something, Matthew,” Shaye said. “I would chase these men through the fires of Hell and out again to get them for what they did to your ma. I don’t care if I spend the rest of eternity in Hell, as long as they pay.”

  Matthew stared at his father with his mouth open. “Wow. Do you think James and Thomas feel that way, Pa?”

  Shaye stole a look at his two sleeping sons and said, “Yeah, I think they do.”

  “Then I should too.”

  “You don’t have to feel that way, Matthew.”

  “But if I don’t, then it means I didn’t love her as much as the three of you did.”

  “It doesn’t mean that at all,” Shaye said. “It just means you’re not ready to give up on God.”

  “So I gotta choose between Ma and God?”

  “You have to choose what’s right for you, Matthew,” Shaye said. “Nobody else matters.”

  Matthew looked surprised again. “God don’t matter?”

  “Not this time, Matthew,” Shaye said, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Right now the most important is you. All you’ve got to do is give it some thought, and the answer will come to you.”

  Shaye dumped the remnants of the coffee into the fire and stood up. “Wake James for the second watch in two hours.”

  “Yes, Pa.”

  “Good night, son.”

  “’Night, Pa.”

  Shaye went to his bedroll totally unsure about whether he’d said the right thing to Matthew. These were the times, he knew, when he was going to miss Mary the most.

  43

  Twenty miles north of Salina, Aaron Langer sat at his campfire while his eleven men sat around their own. Even his longtime segundo, Esteban Morales, was not allowed at his fire without an invitation. Next to him he had the saddlebags with the money from the Pierre bank. The ride here from the Bad River in South Dakota had been uneventful for him and his gang, and unlike his brother, he had no trouble sleeping. Killing did not haunt Aaron Langer, it didn’t matter if it was man, woman, child, or dog. If they got in his way, they deserved killing.

  He turned and looked over his shoulder at the men around the other fire. That was all the signal Morales needed to stand up and come walking over, carrying his plate of beans and bacon.

  “Hunker down, Esteban,” Aaron said.

  “Gracias, Jefe.”

  “We’ll be ridin’ into Salina tomorrow.”

  “All of us, Jefe?”

  “Yeah, all of us,” Aaron said. “With a show of force like we got, nobody’s gonna bother us, not even the local law. And once Ethan arrives, we’ll have the town under our thumb, if we want it.”

  “And do we want it?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Aaron said. “We’ll have a look around. If the bank looks good, maybe we’ll take it.”

  “We don’ usually do that when we meet Ethan in a town,” Morales pointed out.

  “I know that,” Aaron said. “Maybe it’s time we did. It would add to our take.”

  Morales shrugged. Whatever his boss wanted to do was all right with him. Morales had a lot of money put away in a bank in Sonora because he never argued with Aaron Langer. He was also still alive because he never argued.

  “Sí, Jefe,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

  “Damn right,” Aaron said. “Damn right.”

  Even his stupid younger brother would never argue with him. Morales had the feeling that if Ethan ever did argue, Aaron wouldn’t hesitate to kill his own brother. Chinga, for two brothers who had a priest for a third brother, they were both crazy!

  “Go on back, Esteban,” Aaron said. “I want to be alone to think about tomorrow.”

  “Bueno,” Morales said, and returned to the other fire.

  “What’d he have to say, Esteban?” Greg Walters asked.

  “Yeah,” John Diehl said, “what’s the crazy bastard up to now?”

  “If he ever heard you call him that, he would kill you,” Morales said. “In fact, if I ever hear you call him that again, I will kill you myself.”

  “Take it easy, Morales,” Diehl said. “I was just funnin’.”

  “Esteban?” Walters said.

  “We are all riding into Salina tomorrow,” the Mexican said.

  “All of us?”

  “Sí.”

  “We’re gonna be pretty noticeable,” July Edwards said.

  “Sí,” Morales said. “That does not seem to matter so much to el jefe.”

  “I guess not,” Diehl said.

  “What about Ethan?” Walters asked. “If he’s there too, with his men, we’re gonna make a big crowd.”

  Morales shrugged. “Whatever he wants, that’s what we do,” he said, jerking his head toward Aaron Langer. “That is how it has always been, and that is how it will be.”

  The other men fell away into groups while Walters moved over closer to Morales.

  “Is he plannin’ somethin’ crazy, pardner?”

  Morales gave Walters a baleful look and asked, “Isn’t he always?”

  Thirty miles south of Salina, Ethan Langer and his men were camped for the night.

  “We’re gonna push tomorrow and get to Salina by afternoon,” Ethan said. “I don’t want Aaron and his men gettin’ there much earlier than we do.”

  The other men nodded, and Ben Branch said, “Okay, Ethan.”

  Branch was feeling bad about the bragging he’d done to that pretty little gal at the general store in Wichita. If word ever got back to Ethan about that, he knew he’d be dead. The man who had been with him, Larry Keller, hadn’t heard him, so he figured he was pretty safe. Wasn’t exactly the kind of thing a new segundo should be doing.

  “If we get to Salina at the same time as Aaron, we’re gonna attract a lot of attention, Ethan,” Red Hackett said.

  “So what?”

  “We ain’t wanted in Kansas, Red,” Branch said.

  “That don’t matter,” Ethan said. “Me and Aaron, we go where we want, when we want. Don’t matter if we’re wanted.” He looked around at his men. “Anybody don’t want to go to Salina tomorrow? Let me know now and you’ll give up your share. Anybody? No? Then shut the hell up for the rest of the night. I’ll kill the next man who asks me a question. Got it?”

  They all got it, and didn’t say a word.

  The next morning three separate groups of riders began to make their way toward the town of Salina, Kansas.

  44

  Aaron Langer and his men were the first to arrive in Salina. Riding in en masse, they attracted as much attention as they thought they would.

  Watching them ride by from his window, Sheriff Matt Holcomb turned and said to his deputy, Ray Winston, “Ray, go and find Zeke and Will. I want all three of you here in half an hour.”

  “What’s goin’ on, Sheriff?”

  “Trouble just rode into town,” Sheriff Holcomb said, “in bunches.”

  Holcomb didn’t recognize Aaron Langer as he led his men into town, but he did recognize trouble when he saw it, and these men were it.

  There were several hotels in Salina, and some boardinghouses. The strangers had put their horses up at the livery and then split up, some to hotels, some to boardinghouses. Holcomb figured their leader was smart enough to keep them all from staying in one place.

  “Have a seat,” he told his three deputies when they got back.

  “What’s this is all about, Sheriff?” Zeke Abbott asked.

  “A bunch of strangers rode into town today,” Holcomb said. “I didn’t like the look of them.”

  “Why do you think they’re here?” Will Strunk asked.

  “Trouble.”

  “Like what?”

  “The bank maybe,” Holcomb said. “We’re gonna keep an eye on the bank.”

  Zeke swallowed and asked, “How many of them were there?”

  “Maybe a dozen.”

  “A dozen?” Will asked. “Like twelve?”

  “That’s
right.”

  “Against the four of us?” Zeke asked.

  “Relax,” Holcomb said. “Maybe I’m wrong. For now, we’re just gonna keep an eye on the bank, and on them.”

  “Sheriff,” Zeke said, “it sounds to me like we need more men.”

  “If we need them, we’ll get them, Zeke,” Holcomb said. “For now, just do as you’re told and we’ll be fine.”

  Zeke wasn’t seeing it that way. He stood up, took off his badge, and put it on the desk.

  “I can’t do this,” he said. “This is supposed to be a quiet town. That’s the only reason I took this job six months ago.”

  “It’s been a quiet town, Zeke,” Holcomb said. “Do you mean that at the first sign of trouble you’re just gonna quit?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” Zeke said. “Sorry, Sheriff.”

  As he went out the door, the sheriff faced his other two deputies.

  “What about you fellas?” he asked. “Are you gonna quit too?”

  “I’m not quittin’,” Ray Winston said.

  “Me neither,” Will Strunk said.

  “Well…good,” Holcomb said. “Now we just need to decide who watches the bank and who watches the leader of those men…whoever he is.”

  Zeke Abbott left the sheriff’s office and crossed the street to the Somerset Saloon. Inside, he found Aaron Langer seated with a few of his men. There were no other patrons in the place, since they had vacated at the first sign of the outlaws. The bartender and owner, Sam Somerset, stood behind the bar, wiping the top with a rag. He was afraid to stay, but afraid to leave.

  “Zeke,” Aaron Langer said. “What’s the good word?”

  “The sheriff and two deputies,” Zeke said. “That’s it, Mr. Langer.”

  “Good job,” Langer said. “Have a drink. Bartender, give the ex-deputy a beer, on me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Langer laughed, looked at his men and said, “Put in on my bill.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  45

  Aaron Langer put two men outside the saloon in chairs, keeping watch on the street. When those men noticed the deputy across the street, one of them got up and moseyed back inside.