Chapter 24
The sun was dropping low when Anthony finally spoke. He had been mostly quiet since the saloon. His thoughts moved heavier than his boots on the dry boards of Dry Creek.
Abigail kept pace beside him. Her face was set in that calm determination he had come to expect from her. She had questions. He had answers, but none she would like.
“We’ll need to talk to Deputy Brigg,” Anthony said at last.
His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it.
“He’s the only lawman in this county who hasn’t got his leash tied to Vanburgh’s boot,” Anthony said. “Maybe he keeps quiet because he’s scared. Maybe because he knows speaking up too loud gets a man buried. Either way, he’s who we need.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea?” Abigail asked. “I know he talked with me before, but after what happened, we need to be careful about who to trust.”
“I don’t think he’ll betray us, ma’am,” Anthony said. “He went against the sheriff. That must have taken some guts.”
“If he went against him, he might go against us,” Abigail said, shrugging. “Perhaps he’s one of those people...Grass is greener on the other side, you know?”
Anthony’s mouth pressed into a thin line. He tugged at the reins, turning his horse toward the open road. “I’ll need you to fetch him, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll keep my distance. No sense walking into the wolf’s pen while his teeth are still sharp.”
The ride to Silver Cross was quiet except for the steady beat of hooves on dry earth. The sky burned orange and red at the edges, fading into purple as night pressed down on the plains.
When the town came into sight, Anthony slowed Spirit and pulled up short near a rocky rise overlooking the main street. Lanterns had been lit, their glow casting long shadows across shuttered windows.
Silver Cross looked restless. It was like the town itself was bracing for the storm Vanburgh would surely bring.
“You go on,” Anthony said, nodding toward the town. “I’ll be watching from here. If anything goes sideways, you’ll hear me soon enough.”
Abigail studied him for a long moment. She looked like she wanted to argue, but she only sighed. “Fine,” she said. “But if he refuses, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She rode down the slope, the sound of her horse’s hooves muffled by the dust. Anthony dismounted, leading his horse behind the rocks where he had a clear view of the town but kept himself out of sight.
He crouched, eyes scanning the street for Vanburgh’s men. He saw a few shapes lingering near the saloon and another near the telegraph office, but they kept to themselves.
Watching. Always watching.
Abigail tied her horse outside the sheriff’s office and squared her shoulders before stepping inside. Anthony watched her disappear through the doorway.
Minutes crawled past. Then the door opened again. Abigail emerged, and with her came Deputy Thomas Brigg.
Anthony studied the man from his perch. Brigg was broad-shouldered. His uniform was neat but worn, and the badge on his chest was dulled from years of dust and handling. His facewas calm, but Anthony caught the flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he followed Abigail into the street.
They spoke in low tones. Brigg was asking questions that Anthony couldn’t hear. Abigail gestured toward the ridge where Anthony waited, and the deputy’s gaze followed.
For a moment, Anthony thought he saw recognition...then caution. Brigg said something that made Abigail pause, then nodded stiffly.
Anthony kept his hand near the Colt on his hip. He didn’t like this part. The waiting and trusting another man’s decision. But if Abigail believed Brigg was worth the gamble, he’d hear the deputy out.
From a distance, Anthony saw Brigg glance again toward him. The man was curious. Curious enough to step off the boardwalk and down into the street.
The deputy crossed the street with steady strides. His hand rested near his belt. It wasn’t on his revolver but close enough to make a point. Abigail walked beside him, eyes darting between Brigg and the ridge where Anthony waited. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
Anthony shifted from his crouch and stood tall, brushing dust from his coat. He stepped into the fading light, making sure Brigg could see him plain. No sense looking like he was skulking.
The deputy stopped when he reached the edge of town, Abigail a pace behind him. For a long moment, the two men only stared across the distance.
Then Anthony raised a hand, motioning Brigg closer.
The deputy hesitated, then stepped forward until the lantern glow from the town no longer reached him. The ridge fell quiet. Abigail stayed back at the base of the slope with her arms crossed. She was watching them both.
