“True, but I would have preferred he never got hurt.”
“We’d like that for all our loved ones, but it’s not going to happen quite that way. Granny says we live in a fallen world, and bad things will happen to all of us, even those of us under God’s protection. It’s just what happens in our world. We can strive to live a good life, which will take us out of all sorts of dangers, but otherwise all we can do is pray for them and trust God to know best. My da once told me that had he not nearly died as a young man, he would never have gotten right with God. He was too wild and much too spirited. He liked his whiskey and beer, and after having a falling-out with our local church leader, he was ready to forget about God. But God wasn’t ready to forget about him.”
“What happened?”
“One night he was running his mouth at the pub and got into a fight. One of the men put a knife in his back. Da lost a lot of blood, took an infection, and nearly died. He was alone in this world, but one of the old women who was always giving him trouble over his conduct took him in and nursed him back to health. While Da was sick in bed, she told him every day about Jesus. She prayed over him, and during the worst of it, when Da knew he was about to die, he prayed. He begged God to spare him and give him another chance. And of course, He did. That fight changed his heart and life.”
“I suppose we can never tell what might happen to change everything in our lives. I certainly wasn’t thinking of having my father die last year. It turned my world upside down, even more than when my mother and stepmother died. Each time was hard, but losing Pa was the hardest of all.” She handed Melody a wet blouse. “This is the last of it.”
Melody wrung out the blouse. “Shall I help you hang them outside?”
“If you like. I thought I’d let Carrie run around and enjoy herself a bit. It’s warm enough.”
“You get Carrie, and I’ll bring this basket of clothes.”
Hank Garlow was tired of being ordered around to give up his guns. The vigilantes were on the prowl, however, along with that stupid Henderson man and the deputy Hank shot once before. He’d just as soon kill them both—kill all lawmen. A man could marshal himself. He didn’t need a bunch of fools making up rules to tell him what he could and couldn’t do.
Leaving Lucky Bill’s, Hank elbowed his brother. “Keep your coat down over your rig. No sense askin’ for trouble.Those vigilantes would just as soon string us up as demand our weapons.”
“Glad we’ll soon be movin’ west,” Emory said, adjusting his jacket. “I like the towns better when they’re just getting settled. Once they start bringing in families and law, I’m ready to move on.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” He nodded toward another seedy gambling house. “We haven’t played at the Red Dog in a while. How about it?”
Emory didn’t reply but headed for the false-front building. Hank smiled to himself. He liked the ease with which his brother took suggestions and directions. Emory was just a few years his junior, but he gave Hank the respect he deserved, and that was pretty much all Hank desired. He needed the respect of the folks around him. It made him feel important—powerful. That was the problem with Edward Vogel and Fred Henderson. They didn’t give him the proper respect. The other deputies were afraid of Hank. He’d seen it in their eyes. But not Henderson or Vogel. Well, could be he’d have to do something to put fear into them. After all, he didn’t want it to be said that one of Cheyenne’s law dogs had bested him.
Edward and Fred finished their meal around midnight. They’d stopped in at Lucky Bill’s and found it busy but without incident. Bill had bragged about having some of the best beef stew in the city, so they stayed for a couple of bowls.
“I’m full to the brim,” Fred said, getting to his feet. “If I eat any more, I won’t be of any use to anyone.”
“Same here.” Edward paid Bill while Fred drifted off toward one of the standing tables where the men were playing blackjack.
“Thanks, Bill. You were right. That stew was about the best I’ve had in a long time.”
“We’re having a good time with beef around here since several major herds have been brought in. I think cattle will do especially well up here. Lots of grass and wide-open spaces. And we’ve got a young guy who’s opened a butcher’s shop. I’d imagine Cheyenne will keep him real busy.”
“No doubt about that. We’ll be by later. Hope things stay quiet.”
Bill picked up a bar rag. “Me too. Although I should warn you, Hank and Emory Garlow were here earlier, and they were drinking a lot and refused to give up their weapons. Said they might have to show you and Fred a thing or two.”
“Figures. We’ll keep an eye out. Alcohol and guns are never a good combination.”
Edward joined Fred, and together they walked out onto the street. The night air was cold but not frigid like it had been.
“Bill said the Garlows have been drinking heavily, and they’re wearing their guns. Talkin’ about giving us a hard time.”
“I’ve come to expect that from them. I’ll be glad when they leave Cheyenne. I figure if we make it miserable enough for them, they’ll go. But I suppose I could be wrong. They may just be itchin’ for another fight. Some men never get it out of their system. Do you regret comin’ to Cheyenne, Ed?” Fred asked.
The question took Edward by surprise. “Not exactly. I think one day Cheyenne will be a great town, but I don’t know that I’ll live to see it.”
Fred chuckled. “I know I won’t. I’m nearly fifty years old. This place is gonna need at least twenty or thirty years before it breaks out of this rowdy stage. I doubt I’ve got thatmany years left. Then again, I don’t guess any of us know how many days we’ve got.”
They turned the corner and headed toward the Red Dog. There was a lot of noise and ruckus coming from inside, and as they reached the front of the establishment, someone came flying out the doors. Edward barely missed the man crashing into him. He stepped back as the man landed in the dirt. It was Emory Garlow. Another man followed directly after him and landed in a heap in the street. Hank Garlow stood in the doorway.
“You ever lay a hand on my brother again, and I’ll see you dead,” he growled at the man.
Emory picked himself up and looked down at his adversary. He took a couple of missteps, then kicked the man. He nearly fell but righted himself and started to repeat his actions, but Fred intervened.
“Stop it now, or I’ll haul you in.”
