by Jonas Ward
Buchanan shook his head. “I won’t draw first on you.”
“You may as well. Because I’m going to draw on you.”
“It’ll be the biggest mistake you’ve ever made,” Buchanan told him. “It’ll be that whichever way it comes out.”
“I recollect I told you never to count on me,” Johnny Reo said. “Not where money’s concerned. Now pull steel, Buchanan!”
And Johnny Reo flashed for his gun.
Buchanan’s gun. It blazed, a single dazzling spear of muzzle flash and a single deafening roar of sound. The slug slammed through Reo’s flesh and bone, ramming him back against the wall, throwing him across the arm of Steve Quick, who was desperately trying to claw his gun up. Quick thrust the obstruction away and shouted hysterically, yanking his gun up. Buchanan watched bleakly, and when Quick’s thumb reached out to cock the gun, Buchanan fired twice.
The two big bullets pitched Steve Quick to the floor on rubber legs.
Buchanan’s gun slipped back into its holster. Buchanan walked forward and knelt by Johnny Reo.
“How’re you makin’ it, amigo?”
Reo said numbly, “I started my draw first and I never got a shot fired.”
“It was the biggest mistake, Johnny.”
“Yeah.” Reo coughed weakly. “Funny how your whole life can run out a tiny little hole like this. Like you pulled the plug on a drain. Know something, Buchanan? I think you’ve killed me.”
“I’m sorry, amigo.”
“I know you are.” Reo smiled vaguely. “Anyhow, it don’t hurt none. But hell, I always wanted to go out dead drunk with a bottle in my hand. Too bad about that. Buchanan?”
“Yes, Johnny?”
“I’ve been obliged to know you, amigo. I really have.” Reo grinned then. His eyes rolled up lifelessly in their sockets.
Buchanan reached out and closed the lids.
Marinda stood just outside the gaping hole where the door had been. She watched Buchanan lead his horse forward and test the cinch. Race Koenig put his arm around Marinda and said, “I wish you’d stay on, Buchanan.”
“Afraid I’ve got an appointment,” Buchanan said. “Some fish to catch up in the mountains.” He looked around the yard and added, “Besides, it’s about time I gave some other place a potshot at me.”
Marinda said very softly, “Thank you, Buchanan,” and turned quickly to go inside.
Buchanan said, “Hey, lady.”
“Yes?” She turned around.
He said, “I just wanted another look at you.”
It made her smile, with tears close beneath; she said, “I’ll cry at your wedding, Buchanan,” and hurried into the house.
Two cowboys came out of the barn leading a saddle horse and prodding Antonia roughly in front of them. Koenig took off his eyeglasses, blew on the lenses, wiped them clean, and hooked them back on over his ears. He said to Antonia, “Keep going until you’re clear out of the Territory. You show your face in Arizona again, and I’ll have a bench warrant sent out for you.”
“All right, Race,” she said in a muted voice.
“And make sure none of the Pitchfork herd attaches itself to you on your way out.”
She flashed. “I’m no cattle rustler.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past you.”
Buchanan said mildly, “I’ll see she gets on her way,” and climbed onto his horse. Settling into the saddle, he watched Antonia mount. His eyes studied her speculatively, the soft, ample curves of her body. He grinned and nodded at her. “You ride in front of me,” he said.
It promised to be an interesting ride.
About the Author
The author of more than seventy books, Brian Garfield is one of USA’s most prolific writes of thrillers, westerns and other genre fiction. Raised in Arizona, Garfield found success at an early age, publishing his first novel when he was only eighteen – which, at the time, made him one of the youngest writers of Western novels in print.
A former ranch-hand, he is a student of Western and Southwestern history, an expert on guns, and a sports car enthusiast. After time in the Army, a few years touring with a jazz band, and a Master's Degree from the University of Arizona, he settled into writing full time.
Garfield is a past president of the Mystery Writers of America and the Western Writers of America, and the only author to have held both offices. Nineteen of his novels have been made into films, including Death Wish (1972), The Last Hard Men (1976) and Hopscotch (1975), for which he wrote the screenplay.
To date, his novels have sold over twenty million copies worldwide. Brian Garfield died on December 29 2018. He and his wife lived in California.
The Buchanan Series
By Jonas Ward
Buchanan’s War
Trap for Buchanan
Buchanan’s Gamble
Buchanan’s Siege
Buchanan on the Run
Get Buchanan
Buchanan Takes Over
Buchanan Calls the Shots
Buchanan’s Big Showdown
Buchanan’s Texas Treasure
Buchanan’s Stolen Railway
Buchanan’s Manhunt
Buchanan’s Range War
Buchanan’s Big Fight
Buchanan’s Black Sheep
Buchanan’s Stage Line
Buchanan’s Gun
... and more to come every month!
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