Ed Gorman - Showdown

They would occasionally come upon a farm that looked perfect—always from a distance, of course, denying Prine the view of what the hardscrabble places looked like close up—the sort of place he sometimes daydreamed about owning. A pastoral life. Wife, kids, eating off the land.

But the grousing of the prisoners in front of him brought him back from his flights of idealized life. Neither Tolan nor Rooney appeared to be comfortable on horseback. Tolan complained about the horse wandering, the horse slowing, the horse speeding up—all defying Tolan's wishes.

Rooney was simply afraid of his animal. A couple of times, when the horse started to buck a little, Rooney let go with a childlike cry. Daddy, please come take me down from this terrible beast.

What a trio they were.

At any moment, Neville could decide the hell with it and open fire on the prisoners. Backshoot them. Kill them. It certainly wasn't impossible. Prine wanted to salvage this whole shameful episode by making it as right as he could. He wanted to bring his prisoners in alive and legal. And then he wanted to tell Sheriff Daly everything. Prine was responsible for Cassie's murder. The guilt would always be with him. But maybe by bringing in Tolan and Rooney, and telling the truth, he could start to make amends for the stupid, selfish plan for riches and power that had resulted in a young woman's death.

When they finally made camp within a small stand of elm trees, everybody got to stretch, piss, and give their saddle sores a rest. Tolan walked up a slight grassy incline. No reason a man couldn't run with handcuffs on. Men had done it plenty of times before. Prine decided to do a little law enforcement. He fired a single shot that chewed up dust right next to Tolan's wandering feet. Tolan, surprised and scared, jumped a quarter foot, then turned around and spat in Prine's direction.

"Next time you go sight-seeing," Prine told him, "you check with me first."

"Someday I'll have the gun," Tolan said. "We'll see how you like it then."

Prine took care of the horses. Got them watered and fed and bedded down for the night. He liked the horses far better than the men he was with.

Neville built a fire. It was a good one. Prine was surprised that Neville was good at the outdoors. He figured Neville would have all such things done by one of his manservants. He was probably being too hard on Neville. A man's sister murdered like that, he'd have one hell of a time keeping his hands off the killers.

Rooney was saying, "You won't believe this, Deputy, but my father is a very important lawyer back in Cincinnati."

"Good for him."

Rooney laughed. "They tell everybody I'm dead. I'm told my dear mother fainted dead away when my brother told her that the reason they hadn't been able to find me was that I was in prison."

"How many times I got to hear this stupid story?" Tolan said.

"Now, Tolan here," Rooney said, sounding awful pleased with himself for a man in handcuffs, "Tolan here was born under a rock. No known parents. When he wants lawmen to feel sorry for him, he always trots out all his stories about his little sister. He wants you to feel sorry for him. But he just makes himself more pathetic than he already is." Prine wasn't paying a hell of a lot of attention. He was hungry and waiting for food.

The grub they'd brought consisted of jerky and rolls. Neville had also brought some coffee and a tin pot. Prine was about the only one who could stand it. He'd been prepared for it by drinking Daly's coffee.

"I want you boys to move a little closer to the fire tonight," Prine said.

"Worried we might get cold, Deputy?" Rooney said. "That's right nice of you."

"I want you in range so I don't have any trouble seeing you."

"Gosh, and here I thought you were just worried about us getting cold."

Prine walked over to his saddle and plucked out his Winchester. He came back to Tolan and Rooney and said, "Stick your feet out."

"Why the hell should I?" Tolan said.

"Because I'm going to start breaking your toes one by one if you don't."

He took their boots off. Threw them in weeds a few yards from the campsite. Into the darkness.

"What the hell you do that for?" Tolan said.

"In case we try to make a break," Rooney said. "It'll take us some time to find our boots."

Tolan grinned. "I knew you was afraid of us, Deputy. You're tryin' to stack the whole deck in your favor tonight, right?"

"Sure, I'm afraid of you, Tolan. I'm not used to being around men who'd do to a woman what you did to poor Cassie. I'll do anything I need to in order to make sure you're still here in the morning."

Tolan grinned again. "I knew you was scared. You always try to act so cool. But you're scared. You know what we'll do to you if you give us half a chance."

Rooney said, "Sometimes, Tolan here likes to hear himself talk. I'm afraid I'm guilty of that myself. Sometimes."

"Go to sleep," Prine said.

"God, those feet of yours stink, Tolan," Rooney said. "I can smell them way over here."

"Don't start on me, Rooney. I could still smash your face in even with these cuffs on."

"Both of you shut up," Prine said.

He went over and poured more coffee into the tin cup. He sat staring into the fire, thinking of so many things and yet nothing at all.

"Who gets first watch?" Neville said as the clouds sprawled golden and gray and wine-colored behind the snowy mountain peaks.

"I do," Prine said. "I also get the second."

"What the hell're you talking about?"

"What I'm talking about is no way am I leaving you alone with those two."

"You don't want to make an enemy of me, Prine. You've got to live in Claybank when this is all over."

"So do you," Prine said. "I'm sorry about your sister, and I'd just as soon return the favor and cut those two up same as they cut Cassie up. But I take my job serious, Neville. I'm bringing them in alive. So you might as well take advantage of it and get yourself some sleep."

Prine went over and checked the prisoners out. They still didn't talk much, not even to each other.

They just watched him as he checked their handcuffs.

"You don't let him at us," Rooney said.

"That sonofabitch is crazy," Tolan said.

"Yeah?" Prine said. "Well, if he is crazy, I wonder who made him that way? Most regular gents do go a little crazy when two pieces of shit like you murder their sister."

"I want to see Daly," Rooney said.

"He won't go any easier on you," Prine said. "He'll probably even hang you two personally. He liked Cassie. Everybody did. Now, shut up and go to sleep. We'll be rollin' out of here just after five."

Neville made his peace with his bedroll and the ground, which was still damp from last night's rain.

Prine sat nearby on a rock. He kept the fire going. He also kept swigging coffee. Staying up all night was never easy.

"Thanks for that, Prine."

"For what?"

"For calling them pieces of shit like that. I was afraid you were forgetting about Cassie."

"All I was doing was remembering that I have to bring them in alive unless they do something."

"Well, thanks. I appreciate it anyway."

Full night came, inking the sky, darkening the shapes of trees and foothills and the land itself. After a time, the world around him seemed unreal. Only the fire and the three men lying around it existed.

The rest of the world was darkness, full of life noises and sometimes death noises, those odd quick struggles of night creatures.

The fire wasn't up to keeping him warm. Most of the wood had been burned up. He kept telling himself he needed to get up and find some more wood. But he couldn't escape his thoughts, a sort of reverie. He needed to talk to Daly and set it all straight. If there was prison time ahead, so be it. Then he wanted to talk to Lucy and see if she'd take him back.