Fallen Angel

Part 4

Two weeks went by without any sign of Trent Carlin. Hank rode out every day to try to pick up his trail again, but after the second day of rain, he knew it would be useless.

"I'm sorry, Hank," Zeke said again as they rode slowly back into town. He had recovered well enough to leave the Sheriff's office after a few days, and had insisted on joining Hank on his last ride. The rain had let up a little but it was still sprinkling a bit and their horses' hooves sloshed through the mud as they rode to the livery.

"You say sorry one more time, I'm going to punch you. It wasn't your fault," Hank said, dismounting carefully in order to avoid as much mud as he could.

Zeke heaved himself out of the saddle and his boots sank a good couple inches deep. "I'm—" he started to say, then quickly took both of the reins and led the horses inside. "Trent's bound to show up soon," he said, rejoining Hank.

"He's taking his own sweet time about it," Hank muttered as he started walking in the direction of the saloon.

"Going to see Gina?" Zeke asked falling into step beside him. Hank nodded. It was frustrating waiting for Trent to make his move, but he was also glad to have the extra time to spend with Gina, dreading the day when he'd have to leave Silver Rock. Every day she asked if he'd found anything of Carlin, but neither one spoke about what would happen when he did.

"Good morning, sheriff."

"Hello, marshal."

Hank froze and slowly turned around to see the two people he was least interested in talking to. He had met the wives of the bank manager and mercantile proprietor at Zeke's church, one of two Silver Rock boasted, and had run into them a few times in town, always in each other's company. They apparently knew everything about everyone and had taken it upon themselves to take care of him.

"Mrs. Dunlop, Mrs. Peters," Zeke said, tugging on his hat. He started to say something else but Mrs. Peters brushed past him to address Hank.

"Still no sign of that outlaw," she said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, it's to be expected," Mrs. Dunlop added with a vigorous shake of her head. "You won't find him in the saloon."

"Unless your intention in going there is to gather information," Mrs. Peters said.

"It's not seemly, marshal," Mrs. Dunlop continued. "To be seen there too often, consorting with certain undesirable people."

Hank knew to whom she was referring. The last time he had run into the pair, Gina had been with him and the ladies hadn't had time to stop and chat.

"The sheriff assured us you were a church-going man," Mrs. Peters was saying.

"And it was quite nice seeing you at services last Sunday," said Mrs. Dunlop.

"But if you want to be blessed in your endeavors to catch that outlaw, you must take heed of what the good book says."

"For a harlot is a deep ditch, and a strange woman is a narrow pit. Proverbs 23 verse 27."

"Don't fall into the pit, marshal!"

"Ladies, please," Hank broke in at last, a strained smile on his face. He saw Zeke's look of embarrassment which didn't help, and took a deep breath. "Thank you for your concerns, but—"

"Oh yes, we are very concerned, marshal," Mrs. Dunlop started again, quite oblivious to the looks and sighs of her audience.

"But you must resist temptation," Mrs. Peters added. "Do not succumb to the lure of that...that..."