The holy man hemmed and hawed before putting forth, "I do not think that would be wise."

"I worry about you out here," said Levi Asper, tipping the brim of his hat out and surveying the bleak surroundings. A soft wind blew, teasing the possibility of cool air. The only breeze it carried was warm and slightly acrid, though the scent was dismissed as a part of the landscape. "It's mighty inhospitable. Mighty inhospitable indeed. I wonder if you've even got a reliable source of water."

"There is a well," offered the holy man then wished he hadn't. There would be trouble if Asper and his entourage decided they were feeling parched. The holy man did not think the water would come up clear.

Levi Asper was the eldest son of Wyatt Asper, the original patriarch of the Asper ranch. Old Wyatt was in his eighties and beyond his days of cattle ranching so it fell to Levi to see that his family's interests were met and ensure that the operation was being run properly. A tall man in his mid-fifties, Asper dressed as though he was a showman on duty at all times. In his mind, he was; he was the face of the Asper ranch. Everything he did and everything he said had to reflect the image he imagined the Asper family deserved. This was why, despite a lack of interest or attendance in the church, he came to play benefactor.

The holy man knew no better. He did not know Asper from any other man who arrived seeking an audience. Asper had come with a pair of cowhands but the holy man viewed them as little more than impediments should he be foolish enough to attack. No, it was not time to feed. Asper was safe.

Asper did not recognize his advantage. He took the holy man at face value, that he was the man he appeared to be. The original holy man had often berated him for his amorality and self-serving manipulations. As Asper saw it, he was doing what it took to preserve his father's legacy and provide a greater one for his descendants. The original holy man had no time for Asper or his excuses. The original holy man looked upon Asper with distrust and disdain. Asper knew the original holy man considered him a bully and would have anticipated a show of force. That was not why he'd asked a couple of his burliest employees to join him. Rather, he thought they might be able to help curry favor.

"Who built it? You know, those older wells don't go half as deep as they ought to. We'd be happy to dig you a new one." Asper set his hands in his pockets. "Yessir, I think over yonder would make a fine spot for a new well."

"Thank you for your kindness," said the holy man. He furiously pondered what he might do to make these men leave him. Their 'charity' was unwanted and put him on edge. He had no need for hydration himself or else he wouldn't have stacked the corpses in the waterhole.

Asper wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced up at the afternoon sun. "I hear you're lookin' to renovate too? Someone said something about new seats."

"Yes," said the holy man with slight trepidation.

"Then why don't you let Amos and Jed have a look? I reckon they might be able to help there."

The holy man was quick to say, "That won't be necessary." He stepped aside to block the way up the door as the cowhands made for it. "It is fine."

Asper feared he had overplayed his hand. He was too obvious. The holy man saw through him. He chuckled, "You must find this strange, Father."

The holy man suspected nothing. Latching onto the statement presented, he said, "Yes. It is strange."

"I've not been a good Christian. It's been botherin' me these months." Asper sighed, moving forward and settling upon the steps. It caused the holy man a momentary look of panic which the rancher misinterpreted as moral outrage. "I'm not being facetious, father. It has weighed heavy in my thoughts."

It hadn't. Asper had no intention of rekindling any faith he previously possessed.

"It is nothing you should worry about," insisted the holy man.

"You have my promise that I'm turnin' over a new leaf."

"It is always good to turn leaves," said the holy man.

Asper gave him a sideways glance. "...right. Well, that bein' said, you can expect to see me 'round here more often. Much more often."

"That will be wonderful." This was an unfortunate turn of events. The holy man wished they were empty words.

Asper arched his back and tipped his head. Through the gap beneath the door, he could make out little. The interior was dark and shadowed. "Who's helpin' you, then?"

The holy man froze. What was the appropriate reply? "You are kind to ask."

Asper frowned. "Yeah, but who helpin'?"

The holy man folded his hands and looked away. "Who indeed?"

It was time to push, Asper decided. He didn't anticipate that the holy man would easily give up what he knew, but they said miracles happened. "Is it Herman Tate?"

There was that name again. The holy man felt misled. Herman Tate was supposed to be a man who went missing. Instead, folks showed up asking about him. The holy man ought to have eaten the young lady when she had embraced him. Her husband was more problematic than expected. "I don't think so."

"Come, now, Father. You don't have to play coy."

Asper didn't know what had become of Herman. It never crossed his mind that the holy man had been replaced by a facsimile that had, in turn, relieved the elder Tate of his higher functions. Word had made it to the rancher that Herman Tate was hiding out from a rough gang of hombres. Last anyone knew, his sister had sent him to visit Father Spiegelman. The servants had their own story, some crock about avoiding a terminally ill Lacey. Asper expected no less from them. Their precious employer had seen to it to frustrate him and Asper was sure of it.

Levi Asper meant to find Herman Tate. The holy man was his means to that end and the holy man would lead him right to Herman. Of this, Asper was certain.

The holy man frowned. "I am not playing coy." Whatever that meant.

Asper laughed. "You expect me to believe you're doin' all the work by yourself?"

Yes? No? "Your beliefs have merit, certainly."

"You admit it?" Asper clapped his hands. "I knew it. You've always been close with those sheep ranchers since ol' Tate saved you from that bear!"

The holy man leapt at the opportunity to reassert his identity. "Yes, that is an event that did happen."

"Where's Herman now?" asked Asper lackadaisically, as if it wasn't the one thing he'd come to find out.

"I haven't seen Herman, my child."

Asper frowned. "You said he was helpin' here."

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"I don't believe I did."

Asper hopped up. "You're speakin' in circles. Has Herman been helpin' out here or not?"

"He has not. I haven't seen Herman."

"Since when?" needled Asper.

"Since...I haven't seen Herman." The holy man didn't need to explain himself. This man would have to accept what he said.

"Ah-ha!" Asper beamed and nodded to his lackeys. "You have seen him. Is he here?"

In a sense, yes. "No."

Asper wore a toothy grin. "And if we wanted to have a look inside to make certain?"

That would not do. The holy man had been very lax in disguising his feeding activities. In the caverns, there hadn't been any reason to clean up. He recognized that amongst mankind the need existed but hadn't felt compelled to follow through. It was easier to keep patrons outside of his dwelling. "You mustn't!"

One of the cowhands shoved the holy man aside as both he and his companion traversed the stairs. The holy man scrambled to intercept but Asper took hold of his sleeve cuff. "Relax, Father. If Herman isn't here, he isn't here."

The slam of the doors being kicked apart muffled the hiss the holy man directed at his captor. Asper's eyes were trained on his men and not on the unhappy monster in his grips. "Well, boys? What have we got?"

To the holy man's disbelief, the cowhands were out practically as soon as they had entered. One shook his head and remarked, "No one here. Just a mess of pews."

The holy man blinked. It had never occurred to him that the average individual didn't go looking for evidence of danger. Surely the signs of struggles, the month-long lack of upkeep, and the stains of blood and mucus would have been enough to blow his cover. Asper and his posse had come for Herman Tate. Barring his presence, they had no interest in questioning anything else. "He wasn't hidin' under any of 'em, was he?"

"Nah, boss. There ain't no place to hide. It ain't much of a room."

"Check the outhouse," said Asper and one man took him to task. With the remaining cowhand by his side, Asper released the holy man and adopted a congenial mien. "Well! I'm sorry about gettin' so rough, Father. It wasn't my intention."

"It's quite all right," said the holy man, reeling from the outcome. Perhaps this was a ruse while they readied their attack?

"You see, it's very important that I find Herman Tate."

"Herman Tate is popular," observed the holy man, breaking his habit of not expressing opinion. Asper chuckled.

"Oh, have others come lookin'?" Then, "A gang of rough lookin' fellers, maybe?"

"That's correct," said the holy man.

"That's why he came to you, isn't it? For protection?" Asper glanced at the returning cowherd who shook his head. "Nothin'? Damn."

"I haven't seen Herman Tate."

"You're a fine preacher, Father Spiegelman. A member of your flock comes to you lookin' for help and like a good shepherd, you tend to him..."

The holy man reiterated, "I haven't seen Herman Tate."

"...though I suspect if you knew the truth about the man you're protecting, you might be less willing to provide him sanctuary." Asper patted the holy man on the shoulder. "Even with that promise you made his daddy."

"I did make a promise," said the holy man.

"I don't know where he is, Father, but I'll leave things here for the moment." Asper motioned to the church. "And consider my offer. I'm more than happy to help with your renovations. I suspect I can provide more funds and manpower than the Tate family. All I ask in return is Herman."

The holy man sighed. "I haven't seen--"

"You don't have to bring him to me. I'll get him myself if you give up his hidin' spot. You can keep your conscience clean and know you've done a great service for Brody's Cross." Asper mimed finger guns. "Ask Herman about it. I'll let you hear it from him first. If he won't tell you, well, I promise you, Father, we'll be back."

The trio climbed onto their horses. Asper ruminated a moment, then to one of his men, said, "Actually, Jed, why don't you stay with Father Spiegelman?" He lowered his gaze knowingly to the holy man. "That way, if Herman comes lookin' for help or food, we'll be waitin'. Like I said, it's mighty inhospitable out this way. I can't imagine there's too many places a man could go without assistance."

As soon as Asper and Amos were gone, the holy man dispatched his guard. He felt particularly justified in sucking Jed's brains, as he was fairly certain he had been threatened. What was it about 'Herman Tate' that made him a source of interest? Why had Asper (who's name the holy man did not know) asked so often after him? What sort of man was the one whose form he took that it was assumed he would shelter another at risk to himself?

The holy man peered into the depths of the well after he dropped his latest victim into its narrow shaft. He couldn't make out anything more than a hat that had gotten tangled on a stone or vine that grew within. Was it time to take another form? With the growing attention on Herman Tate, the holy man worried that he would not have the time to complete his transformation. He could expect to meet the fate of the unfortunate ones, the ones that were surprised halfway through. No, it was better to stay as he was. Besides, hadn't the men been within the church? Hadn't they come back out unaffected?

Humans were such strange beings.