Chapter Eight

Michael stood on the porch of the old cabin while Paul, Kyle and Henry made their reports. The wind was again blowing up a storm, causing the leaves in the surrounding trees to wave back and forth as if to say hello to anyone passing by... or goodbye. Michael probably should have moved the meeting indoors only he didn't. He was pleased with the things he was hearing and didn't want to interrupt the report just so they could inside; that is until Paul told him what he'd observed, and overheard, after leaving the saloon a little while before the other two men. Within minutes, all the men had moved inside and were either sitting or standing around the only table in the place.

"Are you serious?" Michael and the rest of Michael's men stared at Paul.

Paul nodded his head as he remembered standing in the shadows of an alley way while he watched Weaver catch up with Nick and start demanding answers. "I'm very serious." Paul answered as he once again stated the bare facts of the event.

"Enough is enough!" Nick turned on Weaver, as the man's annoying, skin crawling whine had finally got to him. "She's told you a hundred times over, Mr. Wilson is dead!" Then, because Weaver had blurted out the fact that he'd come close to catching 'that wanted man' more than once, on occasions past the date Mr. Wilson was suppose to have died, Nick added, "I don't know who the other man is only have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe," Nick was yelling by now, "she's telling the truth when she says her late husband might as well have a twin out there somewhere!"

Unwillingly to concede the dark haired rancher before him had a point, Weaver brushed him off. "She's lying, Mr. Barkley! She's lying to you, to your brother, Heath, to everyone! Sooner or later, she'll lead me to him and then I'll get him!"

Nick had let a string of cuss words, told the Deputy Marshall where to go, and then stormed off, knowing if he didn't he was going to hit the man more than once.

"Guess we can forget hitting the Bank," Kyle said with disgust in his voice, "that stupid Marshall is bound to see us and then we're as good as gone!"

The young man's statement didn't surprise any of the other men. He was young and wanted things easy. The rest of them had learned years ago there were risks in any line of business, some more than others. That being the case, none of them were surprised when the young man's words set their boss off.

"NO!" Michael was furious at the thought that any of his men would simple give up and walk away from what had the potential to be their biggest job yet. "We are hitting that bank; however," he got a snake like grin on his face, "before we do, we're making sure that annoying Marshall finds us."

"Huh?" All the men stared at him in disbelief. Why they could understand Michael wanting the US Marshall out of their way, they couldn't see how they could make sure the man found them without tipping the rest of Stockton off.

"How do you suppose we do that?" Paul asked, as he and the other men looked at him quizzically.

"Simple," Michael answered, as he leaned against the cabin's outside wall and gave his men a smile that would scare the dead back into their graves, "You go find that woman the Marshall's obsessed with and bring her here! He'll be watchin' and follow her!"

"Might not be that simple," Paul spoke again as he rolled another cigarette. His mind on other things he had heard concerning that matter.

"And just why not?" Michael took a step towards the man who had been a member of his gang the longest.

"Cause, after I seen what I did, I asked around. It seems like this Barkley fellar has a brother who is constantly with the woman. If he's not, she's with one of his family. Besides, we don't know what she looks like." Paul answered as he lit his cigarette and started smoking it.

Michael wasn't about to let that stop them from getting what, or who, they needed to lure the "good Marshall" into their camp. Mr. Weaver had thwarted more than one of his plans as he had trailed him. It had been a relief during the times he had lost them. In fact, it had been long enough that Michael had become convinced the man had quit trying to find him. He hadn't known about the woman though, nor about this Mr. Wilson who was supposed to have died.

"And this is a problem, why?" Michael folded his arms as he sat down upon a boulder that sat on the ground behind him. "Make up an excuse and ask around, get her description! Then, go get her, one way or the other; get her! That Marshall has got to go! If he's so convinced she's lying, he'll follow her wherever she goes! This game of his needs to stop now!" He glared at all his men as if to dare them to disagree with him; none of them did. He put his hands down on the table, looked at Paul and barked, "Take Henry with you! The two of you should be able to get one woman and deal with anyone happens to be with her just fine!"

Paul hadn't brought the subject up because he thought it was a major problem. He had simply thought his boss should be aware of it. If he had his way, he'd simply have the men wait until dark and hit the bank only he'd been working under Michael long enough to know better than to argue with the man. If they're luck had been running bad, he would have listened to his gut more. As it was, they had been doing well. "Come on Henry! Let's go." Paul stood up and hurried out the cabin's door, Henry was right behind him.

~oOo~

Weaver sat up against a tree near the campfire he had built just outside the Barkley's land silently stewing over the fact that he had been unable to break the Barkley's resolve to protect the widow whom he was still very much convinced was lying. The one time he'd begun questioning his stand, when it came to Rebecca Wilson, he'd quickly reprimanded himself. She couldn't be telling the truth. If she was, he'd wasted precious time hounding her. He wasn't about to admit to himself that he'd wasted anything.

Standing up he walked around and stretched his legs. Unbeknownst to anyone, Weaver had been on and off the ranch a number of times; he cared nothing for the Do Not Trespass signs. While he had decided hounding anyone face to face wasn't going to work, Weaver was still determined to keep as close of an eye as he could on the young Rebecca Wilson. Sooner or later she had to join her husband. When she did, he was going to be right behind her.