With Open Arms
The other disembarking passengers were dispersing quickly, stepping off the platform or entering the depot. At that moment Clint became aware of five men standing on the platform, watching him. They were all armed.
“Adrienne,” he said, “I think you should go into the depot and wait for me.”
“Why?” she asked. “Aren’t you coming?”
“It looks like there are some men waiting here for me.”
She looked down the platform at the five men.
“They don’t look friendly.”
“No,” he said, “they don’t.”
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THE GOVERNOR’S GUN
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Jove edition / June 2012
Copyright © 2012 by Robert J. Randisi.
Cover illustration by Sergio Giovine.
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ISBN: 978-1-101-58548-1
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
ONE
Ben Halpern looked up as Lonnie Crisp approached. He’d been looking down the track, waiting for the next train to pull into the Austin, Texas, depot.
“Ben,” Lonnie said.
“How many guns we got?”
“Four.”
“Countin’ you and me?”
Lonnie nodded.
“Who else?”
“Cameron Louis and Marty Cort.”
Ben nodded. “Good boys.”
“Yeah, but enough?”
“It better be enough,” Ben said.
“You sure he’s comin’?” Lonnie asked.
“That’s the word.”
“What for?” Lonnie asked. “I mean, what’s he comin’ here for?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Ben said. “All I know is I heard he’s comin’, and this is my chance.”
“Ben—”
“If you want out, then get out,” Ben said. “I’m stayin’ right here, Lonnie.”
“I don’t want out, Ben,” Lonnie said. “I’ll go get the others. Maybe see if I can get anybody else to come along.”
“Don’t forget,” Ben said. “Fifty dollars for anyone who helps us.”
“I remember, Ben,” Lonnie said. “I remember.”
“Then git,” Ben said. “Come back with more men. More guns! This is the Gunsmith we’re talkin’ about! He killed my brothers, and now we’re gonna kill him!”
“I gotcha, Ben,” Lonnie said. “Don’t worry.”
But he was worried. Ben Halpern had been waiting three years
to take his revenge on Clint Adams. And when he heard that Adams was coming to Austin, he knew that this was his chance. He didn’t care why Adams was on his way. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was killing him.
Killing the Gunsmith, as soon as he stepped off the train . . .
* * *
Clint looked out the window as the train pulled into Austin. There were a few people on the platform, probably waiting for a loved one who was visiting, or returning.
“I don’t see my sister,” Adrienne Hancock said.
He looked at the woman who was sitting right across from him, and had been for the entire trip. She was tall, slender but for the fact she had impressive breasts. Her long black hair hung in shimmering waves past her shoulders.
She was visiting her sister in Austin, having traveled from Saint Louis. They had talked a bit about her home, since Clint had been there many times. They also talked about Texas, which he knew very well. Austin, however, was a place he had been to only once or twice. They had made arrangements to see some of it together. She said she’d have her sister suggest a good restaurant.
“Maybe she’s late,” he said, “or maybe we’re early. In any case, I’ll wait with you until she shows up.”
“That would be imposing,” she said. “I’m sure you have business to tend to.”
“It’s not an imposition,” he said, smiling. “I just have to get my horse out of the stock car, and then get to my hotel. There’s no time limit.”
“You still haven’t told me why you’re actually here in Austin, Clint.”
He smiled and said, “No, I haven’t.”
* * *
They made their way to one of the doors, filed out with the other passengers. Austin was the ultimate stop for many of them, since it was the state capital.
Clint stepped down to the platform first, then reached up to help Adrienne down. He had his hands on her waist, and set her down as gently as he could. In doing so he got a good idea of her weight. It was quite pleasant.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Any time.”
The other disembarking passengers were dispersing quickly, stepping off the platform or entering the depot. At that moment Clint became aware of five men standing on the platform, watching him. They were all armed.
“Adrienne,” he said, “I think you should go into the depot and wait for me, or your sister.”
“Why?” she asked. “Aren’t you coming?”
“It looks like there are some men waiting here for me.”
She looked down the platform at the five men.
“They don’t look friendly.”
“No,” he said, “they don’t.”
He pushed her toward the depot.
TWO
Clint approached the five men. Something about the man standing in the middle was curious.
“You don’t know me, Adams,” the man said, as if reading his mind, “but I know you.”
“From where?” Clint asked.
“You killed my brothers a couple of years ago.”
“Your brothers? What’s your name?”
“Ben Halpern.”
“Halpern,” Clint said, remembering. “That’s right. They were . . . Tom and Ned, right?”
“You remember all the men you killed?” Halpern asked. “Or just the young ones?”
“I remember the stupid ones,” Clint sad. “The ones who strap on a gun when they have no business wearing one, and then feel invincible. Again, when they have no reason to.”
“They were boys,” Halpern said.
“They were young men,” Clint said, “and if someone—say an older brother—had taught them about being men, maybe they would have lived to be older men.”
Ben Halpern’s eyes popped.
“Are you tryin’ to blame me for you killin’ my brothers?”
“Think about it,” Clint said. “If you had been there, would they have done what they did?”
“That don’t matter!” Halpern yelled. “I’m gonna kill you!”
“What about you fellas?” Clint asked. “Ben here has a personal grudge. I can see dying because of a personal grudge. But what are you fellas doing it for? Money?”
Two of the men exchanged a look.
“How much money?” Clint asked. “A hundred dollars each?”
Now three of them looked at each other.
“Fifty?” Clint asked. “You’re willing to die for fifty dollars?”
The three men looked at Clint, then at Halpern, then at each other.
“I ain’t,” one of them said. “Not for fifty dollars.”
The two of them turned and walked away, leaving Clint to face three men. Slightly better odds.
The third man started to turn and Halpern said, “Hey, you. I don’t know your name, but I’ll pay you what I was gonna pay them. That means you get a hundred and fifty dollars.”
The man hesitated, then looked at Clint.
“Is that enough to die for?” Clint asked him.
“Mister,” the man said, “I ain’t never even seen a hundred and fifty dollars before.”
“And you?” Clint asked the second man.
“Ben’s my friend,” the man said.
“So I guess friendship’s worth dying for.”
“Enough talk,” Ben Halpern said. “I been waitin’ a long time for this.”
“Halpern,” Clint said, “I’m sorry I killed your brothers, but they deserved it, and if you do this, you deserve it, too.”
“Goddamn you—” Halpern said.
Part of the reason Clint Adams had lived this long was because he was a good judge of men. Not only of character, but of ability. Halpern was the man he’d have to take care of first, then his friend. The third man might get off a shot, but it would be rushed, and he’d miss. It would depend on how scared he really was whether or not he’d fire again.
Halpern went for his gun, but Clint drew and fired before the man could clear leather. When his friend went for his gun, he had no chance. Clint fired, but changed the direction of his shot at the last minute. The bullet hit the man in the hip and he went down.
As Clint had suspected, the third man drew and fired, and missed. Clint turned his gun on the man, who froze and didn’t fire again.
In fact, he opened his hand and let his gun fall to the ground.
“Please, mister,” he said. “I just needed the money.”
“You were willing to kill me for a hundred and fifty dollars.”
“That money would’ve bought my wife and kids some food, and clothes. I lost my job, and when I heard about this, I was . . . I was desperate.”
“Hold it!” Clint heard from behind him.
He raised his hands, let his gun hang from his finger by the trigger guard.
“Take it easy! It’s all over,” he called out.
He turned around and saw that two Texas Rangers had their guns pointing at him.
“Are you Clint Adams?” one of them asked.
“That’s right.”
“What about this fella?” the other one asked.
Clint turned his head and looked at the man.
“These two tried to gun me,” he said. “This fella helped me out. Just let him go.”
“Okay,” one of them said. “Git.”
The man didn’t waste any time. He ran.
“You can put your gun away, Mr. Adams,” one of the Rangers said. “We were sent to fetch you.”
The two Rangers approached him as he holstered his gun. They looked down at the two dead men.
“What about these two?”
“The dead one had a personal grudge,” Clint said. “The other one was just backing his play out of friendship.”
/> “Doesn’t look like that was such a good idea,” one Ranger said.
“Better get this one to a doctor,” Clint said. “And then toss him in a cell.”
“Yes, sir,” the other Ranger said. “We’ll see to it.”
“I’ll be in the depot,” Clint said. “I left a friend in there and I want to check on her.”
“Yes, sir,” the other Ranger said.
Clint walked over to the depot, not looking back at the dead man and the injured one. He had not enjoyed killing Ben Halpern any more than he had killing his brothers.
He opened the door and went inside to find Adrienne, if she was still there.
THREE
Clint found Adrienne still waiting inside the depot. She was seated on a bench alone. When she saw him, she stood up quickly.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “I heard the shots.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“What happened?”
“Just some men looking to make a name for themselves,” he said.
“Then what you told me is true?” she asked. “I mean, about your reputation?”
“Adrienne, I didn’t tell you anything about my reputation,” Clint said. “Did someone else?”
She looked away and said, “Yes. The conductor told me who you were.”
“Is that why you sat across from me?”
“Oh no,” she said, looking at him. “I had already decided where I was going to sit. But . . . it’s true—that they call you the Gunsmith?”
“Yes, it’s true,” he said, “and it’s true that men try to kill me.”
“That’s terrible!” she said. “How can you live that way?”
“I don’t have much of a choice,” he said. “I see your sister isn’t here yet.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “I wrote her and told her I was coming in today.”
“Do you know where she lives?”
“Yes, I have her address.”
“Why don’t I escort you over there?” he asked. “Just let me tell the Texas Rangers I’ll be with them later.”
“Texas Rangers are waiting for you?” she asked, impressed. “Perhaps you should go with them.”
“Not until I see you safely to your sister’s home,” he said. “Just wait here. I’ll be right with you.”
The Governor's Gun Page 1
