“What about the others?”
“No. I didn’t ask after what they did with their pay. The strongbox is a surprise. I’m not sure who occupied that bunk before Mr. Pye. Rooster would know. We havedrivers who stay here to rest after a hard leg. One of them could have used it.”
Call blew out a breath. “Complications. I guess I should get started with those questions.” He hesitated. “Unless there’s something you need me to do?”
“I noticed when I was sweeping yesterday that a few boards on the front porch are lifting. They need replacing. Is that something you can do? Because if you can’t, I can.”
“I have enough carpentry skills for that.”
“All right. Go ask your questions and then take care of the porch.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Laurel simply shook her head, waved him off, and waited until his back was turned before she grinned.
10
Another stage arrived while Call was cutting replacement boards for the porch. He set down the saw and went to join the others as they made the exchange of horses. The stage was headed to Stonechurch and beyond with six passengers and a carryall heavy with their luggage. This coach was carrying freight on top as well and the horses were visibly tired. There was no time for Call to catch the name of the driver when he climbed down the box. The man was familiar with the station and hurried off to the outhouse at the back to relieve himself. Call was more interested in the shotgun rider, a man about his own age, ten years or so younger than the driver. He carried a coach gun, a twelve-gauge double-barrel. It was the shotgun Call also preferred. He wanted to strike up a conversation, but the station work came first for now. He followed Rooster to the watering trough and then into the barn, where he began wiping the animals down while the brothers took out the fresh team.
“Who’s the shotgun?” asked Call.
“That’s Digger Leary.”
“Digger. Why is that familiar?”
“Probably on account of him being late to his post when Brady took over the box. You were a passenger then. Remember? You rode shotgun in his place.”
That nudged Call’s memory. “Right. Digger. Brady said something later about him being drunk.”
Rooster showed no surprise. “Probably.”
“What about this driver? What’s his name?”
“That’s Jed Holloway. He’s been a driver for the Express for years. One of the first hires.” Rooster looked at Call over the back of the mare he was wiping down. “You have some special interest in them?”
“No. Not special. Just regular interest.”
“Uh-huh.” Unconvinced, Rooster continued working.
Hank and Dillon appeared, arriving a little out of breath after an unnecessary footrace to the barn. They argued about who won until Rooster gave them a sharp look.
“You two have something worth saying?” Rooster asked when there was quiet.
Dillon spoke up after Hank elbowed him. “Jed and Digger are bunking with us tonight. Miss Laurel wanted you to know. We needed to get back on the schedule with exchanging drivers and shotguns. Danny Shea and John Waterman were passengers so the plan was for them to take over. Looks like we’ll have regular relief going forward.”
Rooster scowled. “Jed snores. Digger drinks. It’s a blessing it won’t be for long. Tell me there’s another stage soon.”
“Morning,” said Hank. “We got the rest of the day and night with them.”
“I like Digger,” said Dillon. “He’s got good stories.”
Rooster grunted something unintelligible. Call interpreted it as a difference of opinion. Rooster said, “Go and make sure there are linens and blankets for the beds. Mrs. Lancaster is always fussing with those things like we ain’t just grateful to have a mattress under us.” He waved the boys away. “Go on. Git.”
They took off at a run, another impulsive footrace.
“I have it in mind that they’re twelve and just big for their age.”
Call chuckled. It had occurred to him as well. “I was surprised you weren’t boarding drivers and shotguns when I first arrived. You’re a home station after all.”
