The Charlotte Series: Book 3: The Pretender's Gold

43

Chapter 43

Richard shifted in his saddle and his frown deepened as the hairs on his neck bristled. Still uneasy, he scanned the area again and caught sight of a big man with a rifle perched on the rocks near the entrance to the canyon. They were out of range, but Richard kept an eye on him just the same.

"And why are they so rare?"

"Big heavy gun. Longer than Winchester. When you're punching cows, you need to travel light. Since there's no more buffalo, not much call for a Buffalo Sharps either."

"Right." Richard mumbled doubtfully.

"Look lively." Hank snapped.

Richard's attention turned toward the camp and grinned.

"We pulled three. That makes odds about even, don't it?" Hank nodded toward the riders coming out of the canyon.

"I'd say. Hank," Richard said, suddenly all business as he focused on the riders. "You got any experience with parley?"

"Nope."

"Well I do. I can tell you that the one in the front isn't actually in charge. And the one in the back is an outsider. From the way he's dressed, I'd say he's the one that snatched your sister. He's a wild card, so be careful."

"So, the leader's the one in the middle. How would you handle this?"

"Sit loose and be ready. They can't miss at that range so—if you want to stay alive, you'd best be ready to move fast. Keep your toes loose in the stirrups and fall off when the shooting starts. Don't try to be a hero."

"You've got the badge," Richard continued, "so they're all three gunning for you. You focus on the one in front. He'll be closest to you. I'll handle the other two when the time comes."

"That's far enough, friend." Hank interrupted, halting the trio about twenty feet out.

The first two riders stopped side by side. The third rider hung back. Richard decided the man in the ugly suit was the lesser threat and shifted his focus accordingly.

"I'm not your friend." The first rider growled.

"Tell me what you want before I let my man shoot you." The middle rider barked, proving Richard's observations correct.

"I'm here for the girl." Hank announced, holding his pistol in his hand as his wrists crossed lightly across the saddle, the reins hanging loosely from the fingers of his other hand. The pose was a lazy one but the message was effectively communicated.

I'm here to talk, but I'm ready for trouble.

"That's my wife you're talking about." The third man growled. "She ain't for sale."

Hank's reply was forgotten as a scream split through the air and echoed off the canyon walls.

The man in the ugly suit turned hard and rode back toward camp. Hank's made a green move as his attention followed with a sloppy shot at the retreating back. Richard wasn't the only one that noticed the error. The first rider showed a rot-toothed grin as he centered his pistol on Hank's chest.

"Move!" Richard shouted in warning as he leaned out of the saddle and hit the first rider in the shoulder with his first shot.

The leader took advantage of Richard's divided attention. He centered on Richard's chest and fired at the same time Richard did. The seconds made the difference as the bullet cut through the outside of Richard's thigh instead of his gut.

Richard's cry was echoed as the first rider's shot hit Hank hard. But Richard's warning came in time to save Hank's life. The bullet missed his heart. Hank managed to put his second bullet through the first rider's throat as he fell.