The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,111

and it occurred to him as the stagecoach pulled to a halt in front of a grand hotel that he might have been able to fool people back home, but these were of a different breed. They had culture and class and fine clothes and money. What if they saw through his act? Worse yet, what if somebody here knew the real Randall Howe? His gut drew as the passengers began to disembark.

Letty was as wide-eyed and anxious as Eulis, but not from anxiety. No one here knew her, except for Miles and Truly, who’d mentioned they might come this way. If she saw them, she’d take care to stay out of their sight because today was the first day of the rest of her life. She got up from her seat. Her foot was on the top step when the driver ran to give her a hand.

“Watch your step, there ma’am,” he said lightly, and doffed his hat as her skirts hit the ground.

Letty blinked. So this was what propriety was like. She smoothed a hand down the front of her dress, taking pride in its plain color and simple style, and turned to wait for Eulis. Then she amended her thought. He wasn’t Eulis anymore. She couldn’t bring herself to call him Randall, or Reverend Howe, because that one had died in her bed. So she’d settled for Preacher, instead. It seemed to suit them both.

Eulis came out of the coach with less vigor than Letty. Fear had a good hold on him now and his need for a drink outweighed his desire to continue this mad escapade. And then he saw the expectation and the excitement on Letty’s face and sighed. No drinks—at least not today.

“Right here’s your bags, Reverend Howe, and those of your sister.”

Sister? Eulis turned. The driver was smiling at Letty. Eulis’s mind shifted gears. The deception had taken on new depths.

“Yes, thank you,” he said absently, and then pointed at the town. “Is it always this busy?”

The driver grinned. “Sometimes, like when the trail herds come through, or like now, when they’re gonna have a hanging.”

Eulis’s heart skipped a beat. “Indeed?”

The driver nodded. “Yep. Tomorrow, I think. Ever hear of Kiowa Bill?”

The scent of smoke was suddenly up his nose.

The thunder of hooves beat loud in his ear.

The sound of screams was haunting—but not as much as the silence afterward.

“Yes, I’ve heard of Kiowa Bill.”

“They’re hanging him at dawn tomorrow.” He eyed Eulis curiously. “Say, I heard they were looking for a preacher to take the walk with him, if you’re interested that is.”

Eulis’s panic subsided. He’d come to watch a hanging. Being a part of the ceremony was more than he’d hoped for.

“Who might I see about such matters?” Eulis asked.

The driver pointed. “Sheriff’s office is across the street and around the corner. I reckon you’d take it up with him.”

Eulis nodded. “I thank you sir, for bringing my… uh, sister and I safely to our destination, and for your information as well.”

Pleased by the preacher’s praise, the driver beamed as he hurried away.

Eulis offered Letty his arm. “Sister Murphy, let’s go get our rooms. I’m sure you would like to rest before supper.”

Letty beamed. Respect was a wonderful thing. “Why yes, Preacher, I believe that I would.”

A short while later, secure in the knowledge that Letty was napping, Eulis locked the door to his room and headed downstairs. Five minutes later he was standing in the sheriff’s office with his hat in hand.

The sheriff was writing at his desk. Eulis waited. There was plenty to occupy his mind, like that closed door behind the sheriff’s desk that led to the jail.

He took a deep breath and then shivered. This was the closest he’d been to Kiowa Bill in more than twenty-five years. A part of him wanted to cry like that twelve-year old boy had done on the day everything died, then the sheriff looked up and Eulis made himself focus on the business at hand.

“Sheriff, my name is Reverend Randall Howe. I’m just passing through.”

The sheriff stood. “Nice to meet you, Reverend. Name’s Wade Wells. What can I do for you?”

Eulis took a deep breath. Everything he was, hinged upon getting this right.

“I understand you are in need of a minister for the hanging tomorrow morning.”

A smile shifted the spare contours of the sheriff’s lips. “Would you be offering yourself for the job? It don’t pay anything, you know.”

Eulis waved away the idea of money as if it were filth.