The Last Good Day, стр. 8

“Don’t know yet,” B.W. said.

B.W. showed Rance the name on the receipt. “Ever hear of that place?”

“Not too far from here,” Rance said.

They found a depression deep enough for the bodies and covered them with rocks. B.W. scratched “Brookings Family” on a big rock near them and they rode away.

5

After a half-hour ride from the Brookings place, a dark cloud blew in from the west and it started to rain. They found an overhang from a ledge that kept them from getting soaked and waited for the rain to stop.

When the sun came back out, they rode on for a mile or two, topped a ridge and saw a long clapboard building no more than fifty yards away beside a small railroad depot that was boarded up, and a railroad water tower shot full of holes. A cattle car with “Travers Southern Railway” on it was sitting on the tracks beside the water tower.

“Look at that,” B.W. said. Rance shook his head. B.W. returned it with a nod and didn’t say anything else. They rode up to the hitching post.

Two horses were tied to the hitching post hooked to a wagon in front. One of the horses was sitting on his butt.

They dismounted and tied their horses next to the wagon. The trough in front of the horses was dry. A sign over the door said “Catching’s Trading Post.”

“Them horses look like they’re about to keel over,” Rance said.

“Want me to see if I can find some feed and water?” Tommy asked.

“Let’s check it out first,” B.W. said and pulled his rifle out of the saddle boot and cocked it. “I’ll go in first. Tommy, you stay behind the major.”

The place had been ransacked. All kinds of goods, clothes, farm equipment and feed were scattered all over the floor. Mirrors were shattered and canned-good shelves pulled down.

“Hello,” he said. “Anybody here?” No one answered. “Hello,” he said again. Nothing.

Rance and Tommy walked up beside him, looking at the mess. “Wow,” Tommy said, “Somebody really tore this place up.”

“Should be a well around here somewhere,” B.W. said. “Tommy, see if you can get those horses a couple of buckets of water and some feed. We’ll take care of ours later.” Tommy nodded and hurried outside.

Rance looked around the room and noticed a boot sticking out from an overturned shelf. “Look there,” he said, gesturing toward the boot. They raised the shelf up and a skinny old man with a wrinkled face, white hair and a long white beard was lying on his back with two dried-blood bullet holes in his plaid shirt.

“Looks like he’s been dead for a while. Maybe about the time the Brookings were hung,” Rance said.

“Most likely the same ones did both,” B.W. said. “That Catching’s?”

“Never been in here,” Rance said.

B.W. searched the dead man’s pockets and came up with a wallet, removed several Union bills from it and stuck them in his pocket, then unfolded a paper and looked at it. “That’s him,” he said.

“You were supposed to be finding out who he was, not robbing him,” Rance said.

“We’ll pay him back by burying him,” B.W. said.

“That’s right Christian of you. Maybe you did learn something at that missionary school.”

“I’ll dig the grave since you’re kind of at a disadvantage.”

“How many you think did this?” Rance said.

“Hard to tell. Looks like a lot of hoof prints out there. Rain messed them up some, maybe three or four headed south. Might go lookin’ for them if it wasn’t for the boy.”

“That does pose a problem,” Rance said. “You think his papa really owns the railroad?”

“Name’s on that cattle car but if he is, Tommy was an accident,” B.W. said. “Travers couldn’t marry a whore so he got rid of them. Didn’t even have the guts to tell them face to face.”

“Feel bad for the boy,” Rance said.

“Why I’m holdin’ off goin’ after them varmints,” B.W. said. “Don’t want any harm to come to him.”

Tommy walked back in. “I got the horses out of their harness, watered and fed them. There’s a lean-to out back with a place for the horses and a stove and tub for that bath you wanted, major.”

“Think we got time for a bath, B.W., or do you still think you smell like a tree?”

“What’s he talkin’ ‘bout?” Tommy asked.

“He don’t know,” B.W. said.

“I don’t take baths,” Tommy said.

“You do now,” Rance said.

“Why do we have to take a bath?” Tommy said. “We ain’t goin’ to church or nothin.’”

“Beats me,” B.W. said. “Got this on his mind and won’t let it go. Might as well get it over with.”

“I’ll start a fire, heat some water and take care of the animals,” Rance said. “B.W., you and the boy look for some clothes and somethin’ to eat.”

B.W. and Tommy looked at each other and shook their heads.

“You could shoot him, B.W.,” Tommy said.

“Been considerin’ that.”

“See if there are any weapons around,” Rance said. “We may need all the firepower we can get.”

“Been considerin’ that too,” B.W. said.

“Thinks he’s still in the army givin’ orders,” Tommy said. B.W. grinned.

By the time they got their baths, Rance shaved his beard and they changed clothes and fed themselves and the animals, it was getting dark. Rance found a lamp and lit it.

“Looks like the rain’s coming back. Might as well stay here for the night and ride out in the morning.”

“Think so too,” B.W. said. “Get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch. Wake you when I get tired. How’s the arm?”

“Hurts some but I can handle it.”

“Need whiskey ‘bout now?” B.W. said.

“Me or you?” Rance asked.

“Both.”

“Might better load that shotgun you found.”

“Was going to do that,” B.W. said and pointed a finger at Tommy.

He had fallen asleep on a pile of clothes in a corner wearing his new boots with a peppermint stick in his hand.

“Long day,” Rance said.

“You ever been to Texas,