The men with him were almost as cocky, but willing to hang back and watch matters unfold from their saddles. One chewed a mouthful of tobacco and spat a juicy wad to the ground. He used the back of his hand to smear the mess across a rounded, clean-shaven face. The third fellow slouched on his horse and absently scratched at one of the crooked scars running across his chin. A Spencer rifle hung in the boot of his saddle and he left it there so he could concentrate on ogling Leanne when she strode around the corner of her house from the direction of the clothesline.

  “I told you not to come back,” she said sternly.

  The leader of the trio rubbed his cropped hair and then held his hat in both hands. “You said a lot of things, darlin’. I know you don’t mean ’em.”

  “I meant every word.”

  “You hear that, Pete?” he asked while turning to look at the man with the rounded face. “She meant every word. Told you she loved me.”

  “Not those words,” Leanne snapped. “Remember the first time I told you I never wanted to see your face again?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I meant every word from then on, Jack. You can forget about the rest.”

  Pete spat on the ground a few feet away from her and grunted, “Women. Always changin’ their minds.”

  “That ain’t no way to talk to your husband to-be,” Jack said.

  “You can forget about that, too.”

  Shaking his head, Jack took a few steps forward. When Leanne backed away from him, he chuckled and continued to mosey toward her. “I can’t forget about that,” he said. “I love you. I just need to prove it to you, is all.”

  Once she got to the corner of the house, she reached around and picked up the shotgun that she’d propped just out of the cowboys’ sight. “You’ve proven plenty,” she said. “It’s all over.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  Shifting so his head was angled toward the men behind him, but his eyes were still on Leanne, Jack asked, “What do you boys think? Does this bitch have the sand to use that shotgun?”

  Pete spat and dribbled a sizable amount onto his chin before replying, “Bet it ain’t even loaded.”

  “It’s loaded,” she assured them. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but don’t test me.”

  “All I want to do is take you home.”

  “I am home.”

  Jack looked at the house for a few seconds. He even turned to face it while propping both hands upon his hips as if he were taking in a piece of art on display. Before too much of that posturing, he nodded and said, “If you still want to live here, I suppose we could do that. I’ll let you stay.”

  “You don’t let me do anything,” she said in a fiercely protective tone. “I paid for this with my money. It belongs to me.”

  “You mean your daddy’s money.”

  “It’s still more mine than yours. And if you still think I belong to you, then you’re sadly mistaken. Now get off of my land.”

  “Yours, huh? Not mine.” Jack’s expression shifted to one of disgust. “Well, if it ain’t mine, then I don’t see no reason to look after it.” With that, he drew the .38 from its holster at his side and fired a shot through the front door.

  Both of the other men followed suit without hesitation. Pete drew a .44 and used it to knock out a pane of glass from a window and the third man pulled the Spencer rifle from its boot and finished the job Pete had started. As that window was still falling from its frame, Slocum circled around the opposite side of the house to appear behind the men on horseback. Rather than try to talk over the gunfire, he sent a shot of his own through the air between the two riders’ heads.

  “That’s quite enough,” Slocum said once the shooting had stopped.

  “Who the hell are you?” Jack asked.

  “That’s none of your concern. Right now, I’m just the one telling you to heed the words of that woman with the shotgun.”

  Although the two on horseback stared wide-eyed at Slocum, Jack barely even seemed to notice the Colt Navy in his hand. His eyes filled with rage as he snarled, “You think you got a right to step in on her behalf?”

  “You still outnumber us, big man,” Slocum chided. “Or would you prefer to stack the deck even more in your favor?”

  Ignoring that, Jack wheeled around to Leanne and asked, “You fuckin’ this asshole?”

  “What?” she cried.

  “You heard me! Is that why he’s standing up for you? He must be fuckin’ you. I knew you was a whore.” Jack’s hand snapped around to slap her so fast that even Slocum hadn’t seen it coming.

  When he stepped forward, the horsemen had found enough of their backbones to do something about it. The fellow with the Spencer rifle fired first, but his shot was hasty and from the hip. The bullet hissed past Slocum’s left side half a second before Pete sighted along the top of his .44. Slocum fired a quick shot, but had the same result as the man with the Spencer. His round did get close enough to startle Pete into almost falling from his horse.

  Jack was so angry that he fired twice at Slocum while trying to wrangle Leanne. One shot thumped into the ground and the other nicked the flank of Pete’s horse, causing it to rear up and throw its rider to the ground. To Pete’s credit, his instincts were good enough to keep him from breaking his neck. He landed on his side and splayed his arms and legs to break his fall. Almost immediately, he was up and staggering to try and avoid being trampled by his spooked horse.

  “You goddamn whore!” Jack hollered as he fired again and again.

  One of the rounds got close enough for Slocum to hear it pass by, but most of them were just wild shots set off by an overanxious trigger finger. He was more concerned about the fellow with the Spencer rifle since he’d had enough presence of mind to get himself out of the cross fire. He pulled his horse to a stop, twisted to aim at Slocum, and raised the rifle to his shoulder. Before he could pull his trigger, Slocum’s Colt spat a round at him that would have blown his head off if not for the Spencer itself. Hot lead sparked against the side of the rifle, knocking the stock against the rider’s jaw and digging a bloody trench through one of his arms. The rider couldn’t drop the rifle fast enough before tapping his heels against his horse’s sides and racing away from the house.

  Jack didn’t notice much of anything other than Leanne. “You belong to me, bitch! What the hell do you think you’re doin’ fuckin’ some stranger?”

  She still had her shotgun, but was shaking so badly that the barrel waggled in front of her. “Just leave me alone,” she pleaded.

  “That ain’t gonna happen. Not after what you done to me.”

  It was bad enough that Jack had been able to slap Leanne before he could be stopped, but Slocum wasn’t about to stand by and watch anything more happen to her.

  “St-stay right there, mister,” Pete said as his horse galloped away without him.

  “This is over!” Slocum said to everyone within the range of his voice.

  Nobody paid him any mind. Leanne was petrified. Jack was too focused on her to see or hear anything around him and Pete wasn’t about to lay down his pistol for any reason whatsoever.

  “Put that shotgun down, damn you,” Jack said.

  Leanne’s reply was shaky, but loud enough for Slocum to hear it. “No! Get off my property and don’t come back!”

  Pete’s eyes darted back and forth between Jack and Slocum. The .44 in his hand shook as sweat rolled down his face.

  “That’s it,” Jack snarled. “You gotta learn your place, bitch.” With that, he brought up the .38 that had been at his side.

  Leanne hollered something, but her words were swallowed up amid the thunder of her shotgun.

  Jack yelped in pain and spun around.

  Pete yelped also, but out of surprise. That and the fact that he was already wound up tighter than a watch made him straighten his gun arm to fire at the man in front of him.

  Since he was that man, Slocum squeezed his trigger and put a round through Pete’s chest. It was a solid hit. He could tell that much the moment he’d cut the bullet loose. Slocum’s lead punched through Pete’s heart and sent him straight back to hit the ground in a heap. Pete was gone midway through his fall, leaving his eyes wide open to stare straight up into the Great Beyond.

  Cursing to himself, Slocum walked over to where Jack was standing. The rancher’s eyes were still on Leanne and his left arm was a bloody mess.

  “I only meant to scare him,” she insisted.

  “Looks pretty scared to me,” Slocum chuckled.

  Jack held on to his wound and sucked in a few trembling breaths. “I’m . . . I’m gonna . . . gonna kill you.”

  “Do yourself a favor and shut the hell up,” Slocum said. “It’s that big mouth of yours that got you into this.”

  “She . . . she’s the one who . . .”

  “She’s still holding the shotgun, Jack. You sure you wanna keep talking?”

  He looked over to Leanne. Despite the venom in his glare, Jack turned away and allowed his head to slump forward.

  “Good choice,” Slocum said as he snatched the .38 from Jack’s shaking hand. He caught Leanne’s attention and said, “You can lower that shotgun now.”

  “But what about those other two?”

  “By the looks of it, that fella who’s riding away won’t stop until his horse keels over or he crosses into Old Mexico. As for that one on the ground, the only place he’s going is the bottom of a shallow grave.”

  “Oh, dear Lord,” she gasped.

  “You hear that?” Slocum grunted as he pulled Jack’s shirt out from where it was tucked so he could rip off several long pieces of material. “You came here with guns and two helpers and it still wasn’t enough. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to put a nice lady like this through so much hell.”

  Jack shut his mouth, and this time, it seemed he might keep it that way for a while.

  “What am I going to do?” Leanne sighed.

  Slocum used the strips he’d torn from the shirt to tie off Jack’s wounded arm at the shoulder. “You’re going to continue with your life,” he told her. “And this asshole right here isn’t going to bother you.”

  Whatever had kept Jack quiet before wasn’t strong enough to hold up now. “Damn right I won’t. You got to worry about the law now. You think you can get away with shooting me and killin’ Pete? You’d best shoot me right here and now, because I aim to ride straight over to the sheriff’s office and tell him what happened here today.”

  “Might want to stop by a doctor,” Slocum said as he pulled the bandanna from around Jack’s neck, pressed it against the wound, and then placed Jack’s hand upon it to hold it in place. “Because this is all I intend on doing for you here. I’ve got better things to do than care for a cowardly prick like you.”

  “Yeah, well, you and that whore better hope I fall off my horse before I get to the sheriff.”

  Slocum drew his Colt again and jammed the barrel up underneath Jack’s chin. “You know what I can’t stand? A man that beats a woman and one that hides under the skirts of the law only when it suits his purpose. You’re both of them things, so you might not want to ask me to finish you off unless that’s really what you want.”

  “Do what you will, mister,” Jack said. “I ain’t got a damn thing to lose no more.”

  “You really think so?”

  Slocum’s question hung in the air without being stirred by the passing breeze. Both Leanne and Jack kept still as if they both knew the answer, but didn’t want to say. Slocum could see it in the other man’s eyes as well. For the moment, at least, Jack was at the end of his rope. The fact that he’d come out with armed men and was ready to go to such great lengths to drag her back with him already spoke volumes. Now that the shooting was over, Jack’s desperation still filled him right up to the top.

  “You can forget about her,” Slocum said. “She’s gone, you hear?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you can forget about going to the law.”

  That brought Jack’s eyes straight up to him. “A man’s dead!”

  “That blood’s on your hands,” Slocum replied. “You’re the one who came out here. You’re the one who brought those other two along. Are you gonna tell me you’re not the one that made sure they were armed and told them to back your play no matter what happened?”

  Jack didn’t have a thing to say to that.

  “And on that account,” Slocum continued, “what did you expect to do if everything went how you wanted it? You must’ve known she didn’t want to come with you. Were you just going to toss her over the back of your horse and bring her back with you? That’s called kidnapping, you know. And what were you going to do with her along the way? Or after you got back to the ranch? Did you have anything in mind to punish her for what she did? When you got her alone, then what? There’s words for that as well and they’re a hell of a lot uglier than the ones I’ve been using.”

  “I got a word for ya.” Jack twisted his head up and around to stare at Slocum, despite the fact that he had to grind his chin along the barrel of a Colt Navy to do it. “Murderer. Pete’s still dead and one of you’s gonna hang for it.”

  “That man was about to shoot me,” Slocum replied. “And I don’t give a shit what you tell to anyone about what happened, just so long as you don’t drag that lady through the mud any more than you already have. Here’s how it’s gonna go.” He placed a hand under Jack’s good arm and helped him to his horse. “You’re going to ride to the closest doctor before you bleed to death. Somewhere along the line, you’ll probably meet up with that yellow asshole who rode away from here like his tail feathers were on fire.

  “After that, you’ll collect the carcass, which I’ll dump about a quarter mile south of here and mark with a few tall sticks. Look for those sticks and don’t come anywhere near this house again. If I hear about you coming back here for any reason, I’ll hunt you down and skin you like an animal. Understand me?”

  When Jack nodded, there was considerably less fire in his eyes.

  Slocum escorted Jack the rest of the way to his horse, which had run to stand about a hundred yards from the house once the shooting had commenced. “If you insist on crying to your precious sheriff, tell him John Slocum shot your friend. If you decide to tell him I did it in cold blood or that he was killed by that lady, I’ll be forced to ride all the way back here to set the record straight. Believe me when I tell you, I won’t be happy to make that trip. Do you understand that?”

  Jack nodded weakly. Not only was his wound catching up to him, but Slocum’s words seemed to be having just as big of an impact.

  “Considering what you’ve done to her,” Slocum added in a vicious whisper, “you’re getting off real light. In fact, maybe too light.” He raised his voice so suddenly that it made Leanne jump. “What do you think, ma’am? Should I turn this man loose?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Slapping Jack on the back with enough force to rattle his wounded shoulder, Slocum declared, “Today’s your lucky day. Make sure it ain’t your last.”

  12

  Once he’d gotten into his saddle, Jack took off like a shot. It seemed likely that he’d find help with his wound before bleeding out, but under the circumstances Slocum didn’t really care either way. After dropping off and marking Pete’s body, Slocum rode away from the house with a full supply of water and a smile on his face. When he heard the rumble of hooves closing in on him, he guessed it may have been Jack circling around for one last shot. There was the chance that the man with the Spencer rifle had found his spine, but that seemed unlikely. Slocum twisted to look over his shoulder and was surprised to find someone else entirely.

  Leanne rode a tan horse that was fast enough to close the gap between Slocum and the house. He’d ridden less than a mile since he’d left, which meant he had plenty of time to watch her approach. Rather than try to give her a race, Slocum pulled back on his reins until Leanne could catch up to him. When she did, she was breathing heavily enough to make him think she’d run the entire way on her own two feet.

  “Mr. Slocum!” she called out. “Mr. Slocum!”

  “After what we’ve been through, you can call me John.”

  “All right then, John,” she said with a pleasant, if tired, smile. “I want to go with you.”

  “But you don’t even know where I’m going.”

  “Anywhere is better than here.”

  He pulled back on his reins until his horse came to a halt. Leanne showed she was no stranger to the saddle by stopping her horse with nothing more than an easy gesture with her wrists. Looking back at the house, he said, “I know today was rough, but that’s your home. Something tells me that cowboy won’t want to see it again anytime soon.”

  “You don’t know Jack the way I do. He’ll come back no matter what.”

  “Plenty of men talk along those lines. Not many of them have the sand to see it through. Do you have a pistol?”

  She nodded and said, “I have my father’s Cavalry model tucked away in a chest.”

  “Load it up, and if you see Jack riding toward your house again, fire it in the air over his head. He’ll think it’s me warning him and will most likely turn tail and run.”

  “What if he doesn’t?” she asked solemnly.

  Without so much as a flinch, Slocum told her, “Then shoot him. Plenty of folks defend their homes, Leanne. Something tells me you’ve got more than enough spirit to defend yours. I’ll be passing through this way again before too long. Would you like me to look in on you?”

  “I’d like to come with you,” she said.

  Slocum shook his head, pointed his horse to the east, and flicked his reins. Once Leanne’s horse fell into step alongside him, he realized that she wasn’t about to be swayed so easily. Considering how she’d handled herself with that shotgun in her hands, he wasn’t very surprised.

  “I’m headed all the way into White Pine County,” he told her.

  “That’s fine. I’ve got family there.”

  “I’ve got business along the way.”