“Sure,” he said. “You can do that. But first, I got a couple of telegrams for you. Well, one for you and one for your husband.”
That was a surprise. Who would have wired Cole?
“May I have them please?”
“Yes, just a second.”
A moment later, he was back.
Mary read the first telegram, which was from her father.
By now youhave talked the boys into staying (stop) That’s all right (stop) Keep them all winter (stop) We are ready (stop) Real sorry about Cole (stop) He seemed like a good man (stop) If I am wrong about the boys you are welcome here always and forever (stop) Pa
Mary stared at those words,always and forever, her eyes misting with unexpected emotion.
It was the closest her father had ever come to saying he loved her.
He was a loving man in his way. He showed that love by protecting and feeding her and taking the time to teach her things. But he was not a man who spoke his feelings. That was all right.
But the telegram made her happy. She slipped it into her pocket, realizing she would cherish it forever.
Then she turned her attention to the other telegram, the one addressed to her husband.
Or so the man behind the counter had assumed.
But it wasn’t addressed to Cole. It was addressed to Conn.
She hesitated, not wanting to invade Conn’s privacy, but seeing that it was from his parents, she went ahead and read the message. After all, they might be planning a visit.
Either that, or Reverend Sullivan might try to talk his son out of pursuing vengeance.
What she read surprised her.
Blood has been shed (stop)Justice must be met (stop) Go with God’s authority not your own (stop) We lift you up ceaselessly in prayer (stop)
33
“Hmm,” U.S. Marshal Clayton Mayfield grunted, observing the graves.
Animals had dug up one of them and gotten after that Blake brother, but Conn Sullivan and his friends had done the right thing, burying them.
Someone had been tending the stock, too, just like McKay had said.
Getting everything from McKay had been the simplest thing in the world. He’d asked in town where McKay was staying then rode out and found him and reminded him who he was and started asking questions.
Right away, McKay said, “I ride with the law, Marshal, not against it,” and he started answering all of Mayfield’s questions.
The only one that made him hesitate was when Mayfield asked for Conn Sullivan’s destination.
“Well…” McKay said and trailed off, clearly wanting to avoid conflict.
“You can’t ride with the law halfway,” Mayfield told him. “You’re either with me or against me.”
That brought him around.
“Poncha Springs,” McKay told him. “Toole and them are holed up in an abandoned mine down there, the Sierra Perdida.”
Now, standing here, finding everything at the Blake farm matched McKay’s testimony—the graves, the tended stock, the bullet holes in the barn wall, and the bloodstained pitchfork in the aisle—he figured the man had also been telling the truth about Poncha Springs and the Sierra Perdida Mine, too.
