doorway was Carl Henson, Edith’s daddy. As I recall hearing, her husband, Dan Davis, was killed by somebody in Jasper, about three years back. I don’t recall if they ever found out who his killer was. That sheriff in Jasper couldn’t catch a cold if he took off all his clothes and jumped in a snowbank.” Jeff finished digging and climbed out of the hole; they went back to the cabin.
Jeff had taken quilts off the beds and wrapped the bodies. He and Ed carried the grown-ups out and laid them in their graves. Ed went back and got the kid. He gently laid her down in the middle grave, between her kin, where she ought to be, then Jeff and Ed took turns covering up the bodies. Markers would have to wait until later. Jeff stuck the shovel into the soft dirt as the temporary headstone of old man Henson. “That’ll have to do you for now, old man,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Let’s get in the shade of that tree over yonder. Boil us some coffee, Ed, while I unsaddle and grain the horses. Then we’ll eat some jerky and take a nap. We’ll get into Jasper about dark and have look around.” At sundown, Jeff awoke, stood up, and stretched. Ed was still asleep, snoring softly. Jeff nudged him with his boot toe. “Get up, Ed, we need to get going.” Ed woke, rubbing his eyes as he stood up. He moved over and stood by the horses and began to relieve himself. When he’d finished, he began to saddle them.
“What are we gonna do when we get to Jasper, Jeff?”
“I’m gonna find Murphy.”
“Then what?”
“I’m gonna kill him, unless he kills me first. If he does, Ed, you’ve lost your lifetime job.”
“That ain’t funny, Jeff, I’m plumb serious.”
“So am I, old friend, so am I.”
Jeff remembered the first time Ed had lost this job, when he was in jail and Murphy had sent Lester and some men out to Jeff’s ranch, and they’d herded all of Jeff’s cattle away someplace, but not before Lester had beat and stomped poor old Ed and run him off the ranch and back to town to eat out of trash cans. Yeah, I’m gonna kill him, Ed. Or he’s gonna kill me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
They’d trotted and walked their horses for an hour. They topped a small hill and rode down the road running west through the rowdy Texas town of Jasper. The sheriff’s office, a hotel, Budgher’s store, some respectable businesses, and five saloons were on the north side of the street. Five saloons, some whorehouses, a hotel, the livery stables, and the Town Café were on the south side of the street. The townies had their houses on the off streets behind their businesses.
Their horses were tired, more than ready for a resting stall, to feel the comfort of a cool bare back and eat some oats in a peaceful stable before sleeping. Jeff paid for one night’s lodgings for their horses. Other chores were more pressing and came before their own needs as far as Jeff was concerned.
Carrying Winnie, Jeff cautioned Ed to stay behind him as they left the livery stable and walked to the first saloon. Jeff looked in over the batwing doors and noted the faces of each man in the room; he and Ed entered and stepped up to the bar and each had a whiskey and a cold beer. Jeff paid. Then they started on. Ed wondered where Jeff kept getting his money. When they got to the west end of the dirt street, after checking out the saloons without seeing Murphy, they walked across to the north side of the town and sauntered that dusty boardwalk east, back toward the east end. “I’ll find him,” Jeff mumbled, “if I have to look all over this state.”