“Sure thing, Sheriff,” Will said excitedly. “I’ve got your room all ready for you just like you asked. It’s the best we have to offer. Even has a big porcelain tub from back east with hot running water.” Then he turned his attention to Jesse. “And I’ve got just the room for you too, Marshal. I’d put you next to the sheriff since y’all are friends, but my pa told me not to put anyone in the rooms around the sheriff’s so he and his wife have privacy. But you’ll have a real good view of the whole street from the second floor. That way you can keep an eye on everybody.”
“I appreciate that,” Jesse said dryly. And then he looked at Cole with raised brows, and Cole felt the heat rising in his cheeks.
“We’ll take the seat by the front window,” he told Will, desperate to change the subject. “And keep the coffee coming. It’s been a long, cold day.”
“And I’ll have whatever the special is,” Jesse said. “I’m so hungry I could eat just about anything.”
Will nodded as if he had access to Jesse’s deepest, darkest secrets. “I bet you haven’t had time to eat or sleep trying to catch the Silver Creek Bandits. I heard about what happened in Denver. I figure they headed into the mountains until they’re ready to hit the next bank.”
Will stopped talking and all the color drained from his face. “Oh, no. You think they’re going to hit Laurel Valley next, don’t you? That’s why you’re here. I told my father that we’d be a target ever since they put in the new railroad. We’ve got too much gold for our own good.”
“Take a breath, Will,” Cole said easily, slapping the boy on the shoulder. “Jesse’s just in for a visit to see me. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“Oh,” Will said, only slightly deflated. “I’m sure you know a lot of important people with you being a war hero and all, but Laurel Valley has never had so many marshals come through town before. I think something is going on, and you’re just keeping it a secret.”
“Lots of sugar for the coffee, black and strong,” Cole said, cutting Will off. “Marshal Calhoun is about to fall asleep standing up.”
“Right, right.” Will jerked to attention. “Sorry about that. Take a seat and I’ll have you served up in no time.” With that, he scurried toward the kitchen door.
Cole and Jesse wiped their boots that bore the scars of hard use and hung their hats and coats on the rack, and then headed toward the table in front of the big plate-glass window. They both positioned their chairs so they could see outside and anyone who might come into the restaurant.
“You don’t want anyone next to your room, huh?” Jesse asked, laughter in his eyes.
“Shut up, Calhoun.”
“I’ve never seen a lawman blush like that. Must be a special occasion.”
“We’re just taking some time away, that’s all,” Cole insisted. “Everyone in town will be standing outside our door by the time Will spreads the word. Nobody can keep a secret in this town, and everyone is nosy as heck.”
“Good thing you’re about to get snowed in,” Jesse said, waggling his eyebrows.
“I wish I didn’t like you so much. I’d punch you right in that smug smile.”
“I told you I had a winning personality,” he said. “For some reason, no one ever believes me. You know, Will’s not far off about the Silver Creek Bandits. You heard what they did in Denver?”
“I heard,” Cole said, his blood running cold. “Twelve dead. They strike right at the end of the day. They never leave any alive. And they’re gone before anyone can stop them, and no one seems to know the details. They’re like ghosts.”
“You’re partially right,” Jesse agreed. “But it wasn’t twelve. Body count was twenty this time.”
Cole whistled. “That’s the biggest body count yet. They’re escalating. That puts the death toll at more than fifty.”
“The stakes are higher. They don’t want to stop robbing the banks, but it’s getting harder to conceal themselves so they’re going to greater lengths for the cover-up. There was a witness that saw them go into the bank in Denver. He was able to give a good description of three of the men. The sheriff in Denver tried to keep the witness under wraps, but word always gets out. You know how fast gossip can spread. Everyone knew there was a witness before the last sketch was drawn, so you can bet the Silver Creek Bandits knew too.”
“What happened to the witness?” Cole asked, already suspecting the answer.
“His name was Jedidiah Taylor. Had his throat slit in his own bed. Along with his wife and two boys. We’ll never have another witness come forward. In fact, I think the only reason Jed came forward was because the local sheriff promised him protection.”
“He failed.”
Jesse nodded. “But not for lack of trying. There were four deputies stationed outside of the Taylors’ home. They didn’t fare any better than Jedidiah and his family.”
They paused their conversation as a server came in with the coffee tray and a small loaf of crusty fresh-baked bread that filled the air with yeast and comfort, along with fresh butter. Jesse drank his coffee black, with no sugar, and Cole watched a little life come back into his eyes. He attacked the fresh-baked bread with the vigor of a man who hadn’t seen anything but jerky or canned beans for the better part of a couple of weeks.
“Why’d you really come?” Cole asked. “Other marshals have come before you. They’ve all given me the same spiel about how my country needs me and what an honor it is to serve the president. What’s changed? You’re the best there is. Why’d he send you?”
“I’m the best marshal there is,” Jesse said matter-of-factly. “And there are others who are almost as good as I am. But we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands than just one or a few men can handle. You’re faster with a gun than I am and you’re a better tracker. President Harrison asked who the best person was to hunt down the Silver Creek Bandits and I told him you. So he sent me to convince you.”
Cole felt the tug of duty and responsibility, but he coldly pushed it away. He’d done his time for his country. Now he owed it to his wife and community to put in the time for them. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t an honor to be wanted for the job, or that the notoriety wouldn’t feed his ego. But he wasn’t a hotheaded young man anymore with a quick trigger finger. He’d learned there were things more important in life than notoriety.
