Danny’s head snapped back and his eyes blinked once in surprise. A confused expression drifted onto his face as he dropped to his knees and fell forward. Blood from the fresh hole in his forehead soaked into the dirt.

  Still aiming at Clint, Ben fired two more shots in quick succession.

  The bullets punched into the ground near the spot where Clint had landed, forcing him to roll backward rather than return fire. Even though he didn’t have his sights lined up, Clint squeezed off a round as soon as he could. He didn’t hit Ben, but he was able to back the gunman a few paces away from him.

  “Son of a bitch!” Ben shouted.

  When Clint heard that, he expected another shot or two to follow it. Instead, he heard Ben’s voice shouting even louder.

  “Goddamn son of a bitch!” With that, Ben fired once more.

  Although Clint reflexively pressed himself low to the ground, that shot didn’t come anywhere near him. The next shot didn’t even come close. Seeing that Ben wasn’t even looking in his direction, Clint got to his feet and glanced in the direction he was firing.

  Ben fired in the direction where Matt had been a few seconds ago. This time, however, Ben was shooting at empty air.

  “Drop the gun, Ben,” Clint said.

  Where he’d been cocky before, Ben was now just confused and mad as hell. He held his gun out and looked around as if he was trying to figure out how he’d wound up with the weapon in his hand. “Where the hell is he?” Ben shouted. “He was just here!”

  “I said drop the gun!” Clint demanded. “We’ll figure the rest out later.”

  As the confusion faded from Ben’s face, only the anger was left behind. As the seconds ticked by, Ben’s lips curled back into a snarl and his knuckles turned white around the grip of his pistol. “You were in on this, Adams. You know where he went.”

  Clint couldn’t see Matt anywhere within the edges of his vision, but he wasn’t about to take his eyes off of Ben to be certain. “This ends here,” Clint declared. “You either drop the gun and we’ll find Matt or—”

  But Clint didn’t need to finish that sentence. Ben finished it for him when he let out a profane shout and swung his gun around to aim at Clint.

  The modified Colt barked once more from Clint’s hand. It spat a short burst of sparks and smoke while sending a single bullet through the air to punch a hole in Ben’s heart.

  Clint reloaded the Colt and surveyed the area. As his fingers replaced the spent casings with fresh rounds, he searched for any sign of Matt. By the time he snapped the cylinder shut, he was still coming up short.

  The next place he looked was Faith’s house. As soon as he saw the front door to the little house swinging halfway open, Clint knew there was something wrong. He broke into a run, but knew what he would find even before he got there.

  FORTY-FIVE

  Nothing.

  When Clint stepped into Faith’s house, that was what he found.

  Even though the little place didn’t look like it had been much to begin with, there had to have been more than what Clint found now. There was a table that looked as if it had been swept clear with a broom, a few overturned chairs, some things scattered in the kitchen and a bed without any sheets or blankets.

  Clint didn’t even bother asking if anyone was home. There was no place for anyone to hide. Walking through the little house, Clint found a chest with a few odd pieces of clothing in it and an old wardrobe that was open and in a state similar to the rest of the house. Letting out an exasperated breath, Clint headed for the front door.

  That was when he saw the note.

  Written on a piece of paper and hanging from a nail that had probably held up a picture frame not too long ago, the note bore only a few sentences written in a hasty scrawl:

  Went to Canada. If we cross paths again, I’ll let you take me back to jail. Thanks for the help.

  Matt

  Oddly enough, those words and the abandoned house were more than enough to set Clint’s mind at ease.

  If Matt had wanted to turn on Clint, he would have done so when the lead was flying.

  From what Clint had seen, Matt Fraley really wasn’t such a bad fellow any longer. Clint’s instincts even told him to believe that Matt had truly gone to Canada as the note said.

  If Matt had wanted to rattle the cages of any more killers, he wouldn’t have taken Faith along with him. And since Faith was along for the ride, Clint figured she would be all the outlaw needed to keep his nose clean and stay out of sight.

  There was still the matter of the last bit of money that Matt had stolen, but Clint couldn’t get himself to be too upset about that. Even if the money had been stolen from someone else’s pockets, it was being put to good use.

  It wasn’t a perfect way to end his ride with Matt Fraley, but it was good enough. And sometimes, that was as good as any man could ask for.

  Watch for

  WAY WITH A GUN

  310th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series

  from Jove

  Coming in October!

 

 

  J. R. Roberts, Outlaw's Reckoning

 

 

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