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They were discussing him in the main room. Since first light Cameron and Harlan had been talking animatedly while their wives fed his nephews and nieces. For most of the time, lying on the floor in what had been Jesse’s room, Lewis had been able to hear every word, but now they were talking quietly.
Lewis stretched, went to the window and searched the horizon for his unwelcome shadow, but Elizabeth wasn’t there. In an odd way that disquieted him and in a pensive mood he headed into the main room.
His arrival generated a sudden quietness and with all eyes on him, he sat at the table. Cameron and Harlan were sitting by the fire with Esther and Mary, their folded arms and angled postures suggesting they had been disagreeing about something.
Esther got to her feet and poured Lewis a coffee. Then she presented him with a mess of congealed beans and a thick hunk of bread. Lewis gave her a beaming smile that made Harlan frown. Then he started eating, savoring his food in the way only a man who didn’t know when he’d next eat could.
“The way I see it,” Harlan said. He shuffled on his chair, suggesting that whatever he was about to say wasn’t picking up from where the debate had ended. “Marshal Ingersoll has to arrest Thomas.”
“What’s happened?” Lewis asked before Cameron could reply.
“You’re not interested,” Harlan said.
“Just pretend that I am and tell me.”
Harlan didn’t reply, leaving Cameron to speak up and describe the odd encounter the previous night with Thomas, which they’d left Ingersoll to follow up. With Lewis having nothing to say about the matter, his revelation initiated several minutes of silence, broken only by the sounds of him munching his meal.
Presently hoofbeats closed outside. Cameron turned to the window and reported that Ingersoll had arrived before returning to being silent. When the door opened Ingersoll noted Lewis without registering any surprise and then turned to Cameron.
“I’d heard he was back,” he said, jerking a thumb at Lewis.
“How do you know that?” Cameron asked. “We didn’t mention it.”
“I’ve been out to the Miller trading post. Elizabeth Fisher is staying there.” Ingersoll purposefully turned his back on Lewis. “It pains me to say this, but you ignored my orders.”
Cameron frowned. “We went out to the post, but it weren’t to cause trouble.”
“Except even when you’re avoiding trouble, you’ve nearly got into fights with the Miller brothers twice. So I’ve got to ask you, are you two calm enough to listen to what’s happened?”
“Sure,” Cameron said.
“What have you learned?” Harlan demanded, leaping to his feet and belying Cameron’s promise.
Ingersoll didn’t reply for several seconds, his stern expression making Harlan mumble an apology, and then sit down.
“Stacy’s not the only Miller who’s gone missing. Thomas hightailed it out of town last night, heading west. He’s the only lead I have about the killing and he’s also my only suspect, so I’m going after him and I could do with some help.”
“We’ll come,” Harlan said as Cameron murmured his own support.
“I don’t want no repeat of what happened to Stacy twelve years ago,” Ingersoll said. “So you’ll work to my rules.”
“We will, and we’re obliged you’re letting us help,” Cameron said.
“Don’t be. I just figured that if you’re with me I can watch you and stop you going after him on your own.”
Cameron acknowledged the sense of this attitude with a rueful smile and then turned to Lewis.
“I guess you have the right to come with us.”
Lewis swallowed the last chunk of bread and shook his head.
“Last night Harlan nearly accused me of killing Jesse and yet now you want me to join you on a manhunt.”
“I didn’t say that, but as Jesse’s brother you’ve got the right to come along.”
Lewis didn’t need to think about the offer, but he paused, ensuring he had everyone’s attention before he replied.
“I vowed never to go on another Coltaine manhunt,” he said. “Besides, as I said last night: I’m just passing through.”
Ingersoll nodded, understanding what was on Lewis’s mind, but Harlan muttered an oath, leaving Cameron to reply for them both.
“Then see that you do just pass through,” he said. “We’re leaving within the hour and so will you. Then, no matter what your reasoning, your lack of interest in this means none of us ever wants to see you again.”
––––––––
“Why do your brothers hate you?” Mary asked.
Lewis stopped at the door. He’d collected his belongings and had aimed to leave quietly now that Cameron and Harlan had gone, but Cameron’s wife had other ideas. A smile was on her lips, so he returned one of his own.
“I was born wicked,” he said.
“I’ve seen no sign of that, but it doesn’t appear as if I’ll get the chance to know you now.” She patted her legs and then stood up. “But I won’t have you roaming around saying bad things about my hospitality.”
Mary went over to the table and returned with a folded bundle. From within the enticing smell of warm bread emerged.
Lewis took the bundle. “This’ll taste just fine wherever I happen to lay my head down tonight.”
“Will it be with Elizabeth? I only saw her from a distance, but she looked nice.”
“It won’t,” Lewis snapped. He considered and then softened his tone. “I’m sure she is nice. That’s why I’d be obliged if you don’t tell her I’ve gone.”
Lewis tipped his hat and moved for the door, but Mary coughed making him turn back.
“Cameron and Harlan have gone, so you’ve got the time to answer one question, surely.”
“I have, as long as it’s not about all the wicked things I did to make my brothers hate me.”
“It’s not. What happened between Jesse and Stacy?”
“You’ve been in the family for a few years. You must know.”
“I’ve heard the official family story. I’d like to hear yours.” Mary gestured at the stove. “I’ve got a coffee ready – that’ll fortify you for your journey.”
The story wasn’t one he liked to recall and he did want to move on, but his brothers wouldn’t be back for days and the smell of coffee was enticing. So he nodded, put down his saddlebag and joined her at the table.
“It’d take more than one coffee to tell the whole tale,” he said. He was still unsure whether he wanted to discuss this, but having spoken the words came easily. “When Baxter Miller and Miles Coltaine set up here they got on fine, but they fell out. It didn’t help when they both produced sons who were always fighting.”
“I can imagine,” she said with an encouraging snort of laughter as she poured two coffees.
“The big trouble came with the sisters. We had one apiece and when our parents died, the brothers became protective. That didn’t stop Jesse taking a shine to Abigail Miller. He fought every one of her brothers to see her, and it might have worked out fine, but she got sick and died.”
“I didn’t know that.” Mary put a hand to her mouth. “That must be why he never married.”
“I guess.” Lewis fingered his mug, enjoying the warmth. “He was never the same again. So when Stacy got close to our Delores, he became obsessively protective.”
“They never speak of her.”
Lewis nodded. “I’m not surprised. One day Jesse and Stacy argued and Jesse ran him out of town. Delores got so distressed she collapsed and had a miscarriage.”
“His?”
“Sure. Although none of us knew she was pregnant, idiots that we were. That was too much for Jesse. He claimed Stacy had been beating her. . . . It was probably untrue, but either way, he vowed to make him pay. I was worried he’d overreact, so I joined him on the first Coltaine manhunt.”
“So you had a hand in it,” she said, her tone sounding aggrieved for the first time.
“Not in that way. I told him to let them live their own lives, but he wouldn’t listen. After two days of arguing he abandoned me.” Lewis sighed. “He returned home three days later. He’d killed Stacy. He buried the body and wouldn’t let the Millers know where for a year. We didn’t have much in the way of the law in those days, so that ended the matter.”
“What happened to Delores?”
“She couldn’t forgive Jesse for killing Stacy. She left home. None of us saw her again.”
Mary frowned. “Unlike Cameron and Harlan you never forgave Jesse for driving her away, did you?”
Lewis sipped his coffee to give himself time to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t sure whether he hated him more for murdering Stacy or for the effect it’d had on Delores, but he was sure of one thing.
“I didn’t. I enjoyed having a sister around. There are two sides to every story, but I didn’t like how Cameron’s and Harlan’s dislike for the Millers let them forgive Jesse.” He leaned over his coffee. “So after Delores had gone we kept on arguing. In the end I left, too.”
“And ten years wasn’t long enough to stop the arguing.” She smiled. “It’d be good to know what happened to her. Why don’t you find her? It sounds as if you were her favorite brother.”
“If she’d have wanted to be found, she’d have made the effort to contact someone by now.”
“You’re going to join her, aren’t you, in leaving and not coming back?”
He took a last gulp of his coffee and stood up. “Yup.”
“Is there nobody out there for you?”
“There was once.”
Lewis picked up his bag and this time Mary didn’t stop him from leaving.
––––––––
At a steady pace, Lewis headed north. Only when he was a few miles along the trail did it occur to him that by going this way, he would pass by the Miller’s trading post. He had hoped to ride away without Elizabeth discovering that he’d left and certainly without giving her a way to work out where he’d gone.
So he was minded to seek an alternate route, but for some reason he couldn’t fathom, he kept on riding. Only when he was outside the post did he stop. Elizabeth’s horse was in the corral at the side and he wondered whether he could still ride on by. He dismounted anyhow.
“You’re a fool,” he said to himself as he headed into the post.
He went to the counter. Nobody appeared to find out what he wanted so he slapped a hand on the counter with an insistent rhythm until Ward wandered in from a side room, bleared-eyed and stooped.
“I’m coming,” he said. “You’d better make this worth my while.”
Lewis snorted a laugh. “I see service hasn’t improved none in the last ten years.”
Ward stomped to a halt, his eyes opening wide in surprise as he recognized his customer.
“I don’t see a Coltaine in years and now they all come here stinking up the place.”
Lewis sniffed. “Even my brothers couldn’t make this place smell any worse.”
“Don’t you go thinking that just because they ran you out of town ten years ago that you’re any more welcome here than they are.”
“Don’t you go thinking that just because you scared my brothers off you can do the same to me.”
“What do you want, Coltaine?” Ward snarled.
“Marshal Ingersoll and my brothers have ridden off after your Thomas. They’ve got it into their heads that he killed Jesse. I figure you probably didn’t talk to them, but if there’s something you want to say, you might talk to me.”
“So you can join them in getting Thomas?”
“Nope. I’m leaving town, but not with them.” Lewis shrugged. “I just want to know.”
Ward firmed his jaw, looking as if he wouldn’t answer and then sighed and shuffled behind the counter. He leaned on it facing Lewis.
“When Jesse killed Stacy, Thomas was too young to understand, but last year he started asking questions. So we told him. Afterward he visited Redemption where Jesse caught up with him to try to piece together the full story. He came back mighty worried. Then Stacy got dug up, Jesse got shot and Thomas hightailed it out of town.”
“So you reckon he killed Jesse?”
“Or uncovered something that meant he feared for his life.”
“About this Mason Crockett?”
“Maybe he did.” Ward raised himself. “So, have you gotten enough answers to leave me in peace?”
Lewis had only wanted to hear confirmation that whatever had happened to Jesse wasn’t connected to Emerson’s taunt. Although Ward didn’t know the full story, he’d heard enough.
“Sure. I’ll go just as soon as your guest is ready to leave.”
“Guest?” Ward narrowed his eyes. “You mean Elizabeth?”
“Yup.”
“Then she’s not leaving. I’m kicking her out. No woman who’s been with a—” Ward screeched when Lewis grabbed his jaw and dragged his head down to the counter.
Calmly he yanked Ward’s head to the side to lay his cheek on the wood. Then he drew his gun and pressed the barrel down against Ward’s temple, buckling the skin.
“I told you, Ward,” he said leaning down so that his hot breath rustled Ward’s sparse hair, “I’m not like my brothers. I’ve killed eight men and the only thing stopping me killing the ninth and tenth is the fact I’d hate to please my brothers.”
Ward gulped. “Just get her out of here.”
“Being as you asked so nicely.”
Lewis raised the gun and released his hold. He pushed Ward away and turned, but it was to face Elizabeth, standing in the entrance to a short corridor.
“I knew when you said you’d had enough of killing that you were lying,” she said.
“I didn’t lie. I do what I have to do, which doesn’t include doing what you want me to do.”
“Either way, you’ve come for me.”
“I didn’t say that either. I just hate the thought of a decent woman being forced to stay at the Millers’ trading post.”
“I’m a decent woman?” She smiled as she turned to go back to her room. “That’s a start.”
Lewis stayed for long enough to point a warning finger at Ward and then followed her. As it turned out, the room in which Elizabeth had been staying was nothing like what he had expected. It was neat, books were on shelves and the smell of neglect in the main post area hadn’t permeated this part of the building.
“If I’d have known you were staying in comfort, I wouldn’t have bothered rescuing you,” he said.
“They let me stay in their younger brother’s room,” she said as she placed a saddlebag on the bed. “He reads a lot.”
While she collected her belongings and then folded and placed them in the saddlebag Lewis went over to the bookshelves. He idly ran his finger along the line of books.
“Now that he’s running for his life I hope that whatever he’s learned from these can help him keep one step ahead of my brothers.”
“What about us? Where are we going?”
“We are going nowhere. I’m going somewhere and you’re following me until you get bored and go somewhere else.”
Elizabeth paused from her packing to laugh. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know where it’ll be, but it’s more like a person than a place.”
She smiled. “You’re going on another manhunt?”
“I never said it was no man.”
This comment made her breathe deeply before she began slapping the rest of her belongings into the bag with greater speed. Then she rattled it closed and swung the bag over a shoulder.
“Come on, then. If you don’t leave, I can’t follow you.”
Lewis turned to go, but the open book sitting on the desk beneath the shelves caught his attention.
“Did you enjoy that?” he asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Not me. Thomas must have been reading it before I moved in.”
“Samuel Pepys’s diary,” Lewis said, reading the title.
He picked up the book, his curiosity having been tweaked. Although he no longer needed to record his activities, he’d still written down his movements this morning, and here was a man who had clearly recorded his life for longer than he had.
Lewis thumbed through the pages until he found a bookmark. Then he read the last section Thomas would have read. It contained nothing of interest so Lewis was about to close the book, but then the bookmark itself caught his attention.
Written down the center was a single word: Liberty. This was such a surprising thing to read that at first it didn’t register. He read it again, confirming he was right, and then had to throw out a hand to grab a shelf to stop himself swaying from the shock.
“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked.
Lewis crunched up the bookmark, threw the book back on the desk and breezed past her. She hurried after him, but he paid neither her nor the cringing Ward heed as he stormed through the post and outside.
When he reached his horse he again read the bookmark to confirm in the stronger light that he hadn’t misread. He hadn’t. Thomas, a man who might have killed his brother, had written ‘Liberty’, the town where Lewis had killed Emerson, on a bookmark before he’d hightailed it out of town.
No matter how Lewis looked at it, that couldn’t have been a coincidence; it plunged him straight back into hell.