Dan watched the sunrise over his land, old wounds aching as the clouds rolled in from somewhere far away. There was another storm blowing in, he guessed. The air felt heavy all around him and the distant, rolling thunder made the silence in the house behind him more stifling than usual. Life had changed a lot since his trip to Contention with Ben Wade, and in some ways Dan wasn't sure if the changes were for the better or not. Hollander didn't bother him overmuch anymore, at least not directly, but every now and then his boys still tried to cause trouble. Mostly it was simple things, feed getting stolen or fence wire getting cut, and he knew he couldn't prove what had happened, so he didn't really bother with it.
On that, he couldn't complain, really; the ranch was doing well enough that he could afford to replace those things simply enough. He was the only one on the ranch anymore, though, the only one it mattered to, and that was a damn lonely feeling. He didn't blame Alice for leaving, really, for taking the boys to a place where they could have a better life, get a good education and all. Alice had never wanted the life she'd had to have with him and she deserved to be happy. Besides, he still took the train out to San Francisco to see the boys every now and then, and they worried over him less now that he'd gotten a ranch hand to help him do the more strenuous work.
He'd healed well enough too, better than he could've hoped for given the injuries he'd suffered, and his family was safe and happy where they were and his ranch was alive and he supposed he really couldn't dream of having much else.
Thinking that didn't make the tension in the air lessen any, though. It felt like the silence before a gun went off and his neck itched like somebody was watching him. His ranch hand was gone for the night and he half-wished he could call him back just because the evening was so unnerving.
Dan disliked remembering Wade, and normally, he didn't, or at least he could distract himself with other thoughts when he came up, but just then, even the black of the oncoming clouds reminded Dan of him. Were he tired enough, he might've been able to convince himself that Ben was riding over the hill on that black mare of his, dressed like death. He frowned, shaking his head and stepping back into the dark house. Ben Wade was dead, or at least gone, and even if he weren't, he wouldn't have much need to come after Dan.
The thunder roared closer, and a viper's voice in the back of his mind whispered that it sounded like God's vengeance. He lay down without bothering to change, or even take his boot off; something about that night, he wanted to be ready to run if he needed to. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but after a while he squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to fall asleep. When he woke the next morning, storm over and nervous tension gone, he felt right silly, chuckled at himself, and changed his clothes, Wade once again shoved far to the back of his mind.
His ranch hand, John, was working in the kitchen when he stepped out, and despite greeting him pleasantly enough, he still sounded annoyed.
"Hollander's boys come by again last night?" Dan asked, and John nodded.
"Looks like. Four feed bags gone and two saddles cut about to bits. I'm worried about you staying here alone every night. No telling what they'll do once they get bored of just vandalizing things." Must've been them that'd given Dan that chilled feeling the night before, he guessed, and he wondered when something like that could ever start feeling reassuring.
"You ain't gotta worry over that. I keep the gun by my bed, and that door creaks so bad nobody could come in without me knowing about it." John didn't really look comforted by that, but chances were he'd argued with Dan enough that he knew well enough that there wasn't much point in it. Besides, John was a young man, here looking for a future now that the railroad was coming and rain was falling, and the last thing he needed was to get saddled with Dan more than he already was.
"I'll get started on everything here if you wanna ride out to town to replace the feed and buy a couple new saddles. Might try and fix it so it's harder to get into that barn." Dan hummed, and John settled a full plate in front of him even though he knew that Dan had long ago gotten out of the habit of eating big meals. Still, he ate as much as he could before he left for town, and he figured John appreciated that at least, since Dan knew from Alice how much trouble cooking could be, especially if nobody wanted to eat.
He regretted it some when he got to town though; the marshal found him just about as soon as he rode in and led him quietly to his office. Most everyone looked drawn and concerned, and when Dan asked what was going on, the marshal only asked that he wait. Dan felt the tension from the night before seep back into his body, and he knew something had happened, something serious, and it obviously involved him. Wade crept back into his mind like a shadow, quick hand settled on the butt of the Hand of God like it'd never been anywhere else. Could he have slipped the noose again? He had said that he'd been to Yuma twice before, and Dan didn't doubt that that was true.
The marshal let him tie his horse outside, then hurried him inside and closed the door behind him. He sat quietly, hands clasped on his desk, and waited for Dan to sit in front of him before he started talking.
"There's been a killing, real messy business. Found one of Hollander's boys, Carson Williams, out in Hollander's field this morning with a bullet in his head. Now, Dan, I like you, you know that, but your feud with Hollander and the men that work for him ain't exactly secret, and he was right on your property line." Dan was man enough to admit that he was dumbstruck, and it took him a while before he was able to say anything.
"I been at the ranch every day for the last week; only left today to get new feed and a saddle. I won't lie and say I liked the boy, but not liking him don't mean I killed him." The marshal didn't respond for a bit, but finally he sighed and nodded.
"I know that. Still, I had to ask; you know how it is, Dan. Ain't like there's any shortage of folk that might've had it in for him, seeing as how he was a gambler. Only thing is, he ain't the only one that's turned up dead. We've been finding somebody every couple of days, and all of 'em worked for Hollander. You're about the only one that anyone can think of who's got that much cause to be angry with Hollander, and the man himself is near enough to in hiding and swearing up and down it's got to be you." Dan shook his head, frowning hard and trying to think of anyone else that might've had cause to do such a thing. He couldn't think of a soul.
"Like I said, I haven't left the ranch. You can ask my hand if you like; he can at least tell you I been there as long as there was daylight." The marshal shook his head.
"You ain't gotta convince me, Dan. I don't think you did it; anyone that's known you any length of time knows you ain't got the stomach for killing like that. Hollander ain't gonna accept that, though. I'm real sorry to have to do it to you, but I gotta keep you here a few days, at least until there's another killing. That way at least he'll know it ain't you and we can try and find the one actually doing it." Dan stared, struck dumb once again, and for a second he thought of laughing until he saw that the marshal wasn't at all kidding.
"I need to let John know. He'll get worried if I don't make it back. Need feed at the ranch too." The marshal nodded.
"I'll send someone up to tell him. I'll even buy that feed myself, for your trouble." Dan crossed his arms and wondered how in hell his life always seemed to get turned so upside down. Slowly, though, he nodded; it'd be a hell of a lot easier in the long run just to do this now, and the marshal let out a heavy breath.
"Thank you, Dan. I'll ask the man I send up to your ranch to stay there a few days with your hand; if I don't, Hollander'll just set to saying you got him to do the deed for you. I'm going to have to ask you to step into that cell over there." Dan figured it was probably best to just keep quiet, so he just nodded and stepped into the small, weak looking cell the marshal had gestured towards. He tried not to think about it too much when the marshal closed the door behind him and locked it soundly; it wasn't a pleasant feeling, being stuck in such a small place; he'd never cared much for small spaces.
Still, the marshal tried to be kind; he talked a lot, enough so that Dan almost felt as if he were just stopping in for a visit instead of being held there, waiting for somebody to die, and he actually sent someone out to get Dan something decent to eat for dinner. It wasn't a pleasant way to spend an afternoon or an evening, to be sure, but Dan knew how much worse it could've been, and at least as long as the marshal was there, the uneasy feeling that had been following Dan around faded. That night, though, when the marshal left, apologizing to him one more time, it flooded back full force.
The whole building was pitch dark and creaky, and he was overly aware of how alone he was. His neck itched like someone's eyes were on him again, and he couldn't keep still. His leg ached, and he knew he needed to sit awhile, loosen up the tight muscle near his knee, but he couldn't even bring himself to sit long enough to do that no matter how silly he thought he was being.
That was when the door opened. His heart stopped, and he stepped back towards the wall. It was too dark to see who had come in exactly, but the shadow was obviously male, and he moved quick and easy, like a snake. Dan held his breath. The figure chuckled and spoke and had it been anyone else, Dan might not have been able to believe it.
"Fancy seeing you here, Dan," Wade said, his voice as deep and smooth as it had ever been, and for a few moments, Dan couldn't respond. He gathered himself quickly, though, and stepped up to the bars; he wasn't afraid of Ben Wade, and he refused to let the man start thinking that he was.
"Somehow I got a funny feeling you ought to be the one standing here, Wade." Wade laughed, moving up too close to the other side of the bars, hands curled around them like he'd pull the door down.
"Now Dan, I think after all this time you can at least call me by my Christian name, can't you? Especially if you're going to start saying such cruel things right as you're seeing me again after such a long time. After everything that happened, I figured we were finally friends." Dan clenched his jaw, arms crossed tightly across his chest. This close, he could see the mischief shining in Wade's bright blue eyes and the teasing smile tilting the corners of his lips, like he wasn't almost certainly the man who'd been doing the killings.
"I don't think so, Wade. Why've you been killing Hollander's boys?" He smiled a little wider, reaching through the bars with one hand to take Dan by the arm and pull him up just as close as he himself stood. Dan tried to jerk away, but Wade had always been bigger than he was, and the months he'd spent in recovery hadn't helped matters much.
"Now, if someone had asked you who was doing it five minutes ago, my name wouldn't have even crossed your mind. Why so sure it's me now, just because I'm in town? Can't I just come around and pay a visit to my good friend Dan Evans?"
"We ain't friends, Wade, and five minutes ago I thought you'd been hanged for all the other killing you've done." He tried to jerk away again, but Wade kept his grip solid even as his face softened.
"It wasn't ever the killing that Mr. Shiny Shoes wanted me to hang for, Dan, but the money I stole. Still, even if it had been for the killing, I wasn't particularly eager to find myself on the wrong end of the noose, especially not after I happened to hear about a certain rancher's miraculous recovery. Figured I ought to return the favor with a miracle of my own and broke out the next day. If it makes you feel better, I didn't kill anybody when I did that." Dan's arm was starting to ache about as much as his leg, so he forced himself to relax and Wade loosened his grip just a touch. Dan might've tried to get loose again, if he hadn't seen firsthand how quick Wade's hands could be.
"So you ain't denying that you're the one that's been murdering Hollander's men." Wade shook his head.
"Not much point in it, is there? Only man I could blame it on is already sitting in a jail cell for it, and I must admit to not being too happy about that. You'll be out come morning, but the principle of it still bothers me some." Dan frozeāhe must've already killed somebody else, then, or planned to do it at least.
"You gonna tell me why you been doing all this?" Wade laughed again, a little lower this time, and shook his head. Dan remembered suddenly how unpredictable he was, despite the visage of a gentleman he liked to wear. Unafraid or not, it wasn't wise to forget that Wade was dangerous, and the more Dan was around him, the easier that was to start ignoring.
"All this time and you still need to ask? And here I thought you were quicker than that." He leaned in closer, forehead pressed against the bars, and Dan could feel his breath against his face. His eyes looked a little brighter, a little wilder, a little like they'd looked that night after he killed Tucker "Proverbs 10:12," he murmured, then dropped Dan's arm and pulled away, turning back towards the door.
"Don't kill anyone tonight," Dan said, like he thought it'd count for anything, and he could imagine the grin in Wade's voice when he replied.
"No one else. I'll see you tomorrow, Dan; be safe tonight." And with that he was gone, just as smooth and silent as he'd come, and Dan was left alone again with the creaking of the building and his own thoughts. He was finally able to collapse on the bench, though, all the energy drained out of him in a rush. Ben Wade was alive, and he was back in Bisbee, and with nothing but a bible verse Dan didn't know, he was taking the lives of men he had no feud with. Dan didn't know how to feel, but he knew he was dead tired, so his body forced his mind into sleep. His last thought was of how crazy the marshal would think he was when he told him about this the next morning.
