Chapter 23

The Reverend Hezekiah D. Thorn ignored his wife and stepped off the stagecoach. Without offering to help her, he stood on the dusty street and looked around the town of Cool Wood. Callie Thorn was helped down from the coach by the driver. When their battered carpet bags were put on the ground, the driver climbed back to his seat on the front and pulled away.

“If we can’t find some Christian family to put us up, I guess we’ll have to stay at that hotel over there,” he said with a frown. “I hope it’s not gonna cost us too much.”

The sheriff stepped off the wooden sidewalk and nodded to the Thorns. “Looks like you folks might be new in town.”

“Yes, we are.” Hezekiah introduced himself. “Looks like this town is in need of a preacher, judging by the many men I see going in and out of that saloon down the street.”

“The Golden Nugget does have a lot of business, but seldom does anyone get out of line. I’ve never had to arrest anyone except on an occasional Saturday night.”

“You ought to arrest them for going in such an awful, sinful, disgraceful place. A preacher should be telling the men to go home to their families instead of spending their time drinking demon liquor.”

“Most of them are hardworking men. They also respect their families.”

“Humph. I assume there are loose women in that place to tempt them.” When Jeff didn’t answer, he asked, “Such establishments are known for that sort of thing.”

“There are a few dancehall girls, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Shame. Shame. Looks like you’re in need of a real God-fearing preacher.”

“We have a preacher and he’s a good one.”

“Then he must not be doing his job or he’d get a place like that closed down.”

Jeff ignored this statement and indicated Callie. “I assume this is Mrs. Thorn.”

“Yes, of course. You wouldn’t expect a man of God to travel with a woman who wasn’t his wife, would you?”

Before the sheriff could answer, Callie said in her usual timid voice, “I suppose we should get out of the middle of the street.”

Without acknowledging her, Hezekiah reached down and picked up his bag. Looking at the sheriff, he asked, “Are there any Christians in town who would put up a God-fearing preacher and his wife, or anywhere else to stay in this God-forsaken town besides the hotel?”

“There’s Miss Sweeny’s rooming house one street over.”

“Which do you think would be cheaper?”

Jeff lifted an eyebrow, but said, “The hotel will probably cost less, but the rooming house does include meals.”

“Then I guess I’ll choose the hotel. I hope to move whenever I find out where a Miss Cora Sue Reeson lives.”

“The Reeson ranch is south of town.”

“How far?”

“I’d guess about ten miles.”

“Humph,” Hezekiah grunted. “I guess that’s too far to walk today.”

“Yes, sir. I would say so. Of course, you can rent a horse and buggy at the livery stable if you like.”

“No thank you, Sheriff. We have to watch our money.” He turned to Callie. “We’ll go to the hotel, then I’ll figure out some way to get word to Miss Reeson that we’re here.”

Callie took her case and followed him without saying anything.

Jeff Bodger walked away, shaking his head and wondering what these strange people had to do with the Reesons and hoping they didn’t intend to settle in Cool Wood. The man was the kind to cause trouble where no trouble existed.

* * * *

Wyatt was sitting in front of the sheriff’s office when Jeff walked up the sidewalk. He stood and said, “I have something I need to talk with you about.”

“Sure. Come on in.” Jeff unlocked the door. “What’s on your mind?”

After Wyatt explained about the Kerrs trying to homestead on his land, Jeff said, “Looks like somebody’s taking a big chance selling off your land. I’d hate to be the one to do it.”

“If I get my hands on him—”

“Now, don’t start that, Wyatt. I know you like to handle all your own problems, but things like this need to be left to the hands of the law.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to start shooting people.” He gave a half-grin. “Not until I catch them, that is.”

“I guess that’s fair.” Jeff turned to the pot-bellied stove. “I think the coffee’s still hot. Want a cup?”

“Sure.”

“I hear you’ve been clearing up those rumors Thourgood Reeson started about your wife.”

“Damn son-of-a-bitch. I’m going to have a talk with him, too.”

“I guess he’s just disappointed you didn’t fall head over heels for that daughter of his.”

“No chance in hell of that.”

“Vera and I were talking the other day. We think it’s time we had you and Edwina for dinner. Vera wants to get her hands on your baby.”

“He’s quite a boy.”

“That’s what I heard. One of these days maybe I’ll know what it’s like to be a father.”

“I’ll be going for a second child soon. Edwina is a good mother and I think she’d like a little girl.”

Jeff handed him a cup of coffee and sat behind his desk. Putting his cup down, he said, “Now let’s see if we can figure out who in this little town of ours would benefit by trying to sell somebody else’s property.”

“Don’t think I haven’t been racking my brain.” Wyatt took a drink of coffee. “I figure it has to be somebody who knows I don’t have cows on the north pasture after the fall until mid summer of the next year.”

“How do you figure that?”

“For one thing, I’m not on that piece of land much. It’s out of the way and I only check it in summer to make sure the grass is right for grazing from summer until fall. I move the cattle again when winter starts.”

“So that’s how you found the squatters?”

“Yeah. They seem like a nice family, but I’m not about to let someone set up homesteading on my land.”

“I sure hope the couple who came in on the stage aren’t planning on making their home around here on your land or on anyone else’s.”

“Why not?”

“She was a mousy little thing. Didn’t say a half a dozen words. He said enough to lead me to believe he’s some kind of preacher who’s come here to save the souls of all our depraved citizens.”

Wyatt chuckled. “Don’t sound like he’d make many friends in town.”

“He may not be staying in town. Said something about the Reesons. I think he might be their kin or something.”

For a moment Wyatt froze.

It can’t be Edwina’s uncle! Surely Thourgood wouldn’t send for him to back up the tales he’s telling.

Pushing his hat back with his forefinger, Wyatt asked as casually as he could, “Did you happen to get the preacher’s name?”

“I think it was something like Hezekiah Thorm or Thorn or some such name.”

“Damn.” Wyatt straightened his leaned back chair. “Do you know where they’re staying?”

“They headed toward the hotel. You going to visit them or something?” Jeff laughed.

“I think I might.”

“Why in hell would you want to do that?”

Wyatt stood and headed toward the door. “Maybe I need saving from the evils of this town.” He nodded and went out, closing the door behind him.