Chapter 30

 

Main street appeared all but deserted in the dusky light, save the horses tied outside the saloon and a couple of few cowpokes standing around the sidewalk, deep in conversation. An occasional cheer sounded from inside the establishment, loud enough to cover the lively piano tune. No doubt, Westbury would be in there, deep in a game of cards.

Ethan guided Danby to an empty spot and sung down.

“Hey Kane!”

He turned to see Wally Stoner hailing him from just up the street. Securing the reins, he walked toward the man, meeting him half a block up. “Good evening, Wally,” he greeted the man.

Wally, his long hair pulled back in a leather string nodded. “It is that. Look at that sunset. Gonna be a sunny one tomorrow.”

Ethan studied the sky and agreed. “We could use a little rain, though.”

“We could. Uh, reason I called you. A fellow got off the stage this afternoon looking for you.”

Ethan’s head swiveled. “Someone looking for me?”

“Older fella. Kinda stooped. Said he hadn’t seen you in over twenty years. I told him you had a ranch outside of town. I hope that was alright. He looked harmless enough,” he added.

Ethan rubbed his fingers over his jaw, trying to ease the tension as he forced his lips into what he hoped looked like a pleasant smile. “Sure. That’s fine. I don’t guess he told you his name?”

Wally shook his head. “No. He didn’t seem much like he was interested in conversation.”

He wouldn’t be. He was a man that enjoyed words written on paper, not out of the mouth. Not face to face with another human. He was a man that would rather read a book than spend time teaching his young sons how to fish or hunt for food for their meager pantry. No time to carry the wash water for his wife, either. Considered himself too good for such menial tasks.

“Well, I’ll go look him up,” Ethan nodded. He should have answered that letter. He never thought that the man would show up here, actually have the nerve to come and see him. Look him in the eye.

Wally appeared relieved that he hadn’t spoken out of turn. “I believe he’s taken a room over at Miller’s Boarding House.”

“Thanks.”

Back on Danby, Westbury forgotten, he urged the horse forward at a slow pace. No need to get there too fast. And thinking of something to say to the man was impossible. All these years, he’d never even imagined a conversation, should he be granted one, with his father. The fact that J. T. Kane was out of his life had been good enough for him.

He slowed Danby even more as he approached the house where his father was staying. He could see several men on the wide porch, hear their jovial voices as they visited in the cool evening air. One man sat off to the side, his head down, as if he had fallen asleep in the rocker.

Ethan gritted his teeth. That would be him. Maybe his father was too worn out from his travels and would give him the advantage of approaching first. What do I say to him, Lord? He was easier to forgive when he was dead. When I walk up there and stand face to face with him, every muscle in my body will beg me to double up my fist and give him what he deserves. I thought it was all settled between us. But, now, I don’t know what to do. Those old feelings of hate that I had buried, thought were gone forever, are back, haunting me, day and night since that letter.