by JR Roberts
“You can shoot?” he asked Loretta.
“You’re about to find out,” she told him.
He looked at the other two, who also stared back at him. Even the younger one had a smirk on her face.
“You’re tryin’ to bluff me,” Lomax said.
“What makes you think I’d stand here in front of you and twenty men with only three women to back me if I didn’t have faith in them?”
“He’s lyin’,” Skinner said.
Clint Adams looked at him, which made Skinner squirm in his saddle.
“I know you, don’t I?” he asked.
“No.”
“Yeah, I do,” the Gunsmith said. “I never forget—I’ve got it. Skinner. Don’t know where it was, but your name’s Skinner.”
He looked at Lomax.
“Is he the best you’ve got?” He shook his head.
Forty-Four
Loretta was glad she was sitting down, because her legs felt weak.
Belinda felt the same way, which was why she had her hip perched on the rail.
Teresa had faith in Clint. She was nervous, but her legs felt strong beneath her. In her eyes, the two men—Lomax and the man Clint had called Skinner—looked puzzled.
Maybe this was going to work.
~*~
Clint knew he was making Skinner nervous. He still couldn’t place where he remembered the man from, but the name had come to him, and that seemed to be working in their favor.
“So what’s it going to be, Lomax?” Clint asked.
Lomax licked his lips and said, “We’ll go in my time, Gunsmith, not yours.”
Clint shrugged, like it didn’t matter to him who called the action.
Lomax turned his horse to go back to his men, and Skinner hastily followed.
~*~
As they rode back to the others, Skinner asked, “What’re we gonna do?”
“Nothin’s changed,” Lomax growled.
“Nothin’?” Skinner asked. “Bad enough we was gonna have to face the Gunsmith with those women in the windows with their rifles. Now they’re out in the open like they ain’t got a care in the world. The men ain‘t gonna like this.”
“Hey!” Lomax snapped. “Any of these men can ride away. No ... hard ... feelin’s!”
Yeah, Skinner knew what that meant.
~*~
“What’s he gonna tell his men when he reaches them?” Loretta asked.
“I don’t know, but he has to tell them something,” Clint said. “They don’t like what they’re seeing, at all.”
From where they were standing on the porch they could see Lomax’s men with their heads together, talking among themselves.
“If this really works,” Teresa said, from her position on the porch, “I’ll never question anythin’ you say again, Clint—ever!”
~*~
When Lomax and Skinner reached the other men they straightened in their saddle and Holby asked, “What the hell’s goin’ on?”
“They’re tryin’ to bluff us,” Lomax said.
“They’re ready for a fight,” Skinner said.
“Them women?” Miller asked. “Can they shoot?”
“They say they can,” Skinner answered.
The men all started to talk at the same time.
“Hey!” Lomax shouted. “When did this become a goddamned democracy?”
All the men fell silent.
“Now look,” Lomax said, “whether they can shoot or not, there are still twenty of us and only four of them.”
“There was only supposed to be one of them,” Holby pointed out.
“So at twenty-to-one you had no problem, but twenty-to-four is too much for you?” Lomax asked.
Nobody replied.
“Jesus!” Lomax said. “All right, listen up. Here’s what we’re gonna do.”
Forty-Five
“Okay,” Clint said, “they’re going to come.”
“All of them?” Loretta asked.
“We won’t know that until they start to ride,” Clint said. “I sure hope you girls can shoot as well as you say you can.”
“We can,” Teresa said, “we just have never shot at men.”
“Just your husbands.”
“Well ... yeah,” Teresa said, “but they were naked and unarmed.”
“Okay,” he said, “so when Lomax and his men start coming, just picture them all naked.”
~*~
Lomax studied his men. He could see in their faces he didn’t have them all. He didn’t know if it was actually being faced with the Gunsmith, or the extra three guns.
But he didn’t have time to pick out the men who were going to abandon him, and kill them. That would have to come later.
“Remember,” he said loudly, “the Gunsmith is the first target. Kill him and the others will fall.”
The men stared back at him.
Lomax looked at Skinner.
“Are you ready?’
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Lomax turned his horse and led the charge.
~*~
“Oh God,” Belinda said.
“Here they come!” Teresa said.
“Clint!” Loretta said.
Clint drew his Colt from his holster, and an extra handgun he’d gotten from Loretta from his belt. He knew he was going to have to make every shot count.
“Not yet,” he said. “They’ve got to get closer.”
“How close?” Belinda asked.
“Close,” Clint said. “We can’t afford to miss. Just don’t fire until I say.”
The girls all had their fingers on their triggers, and were now on their feet and straightened up.
“After you start firing, find some cover,” he said.
“Where?” Loretta asked.
“Anywhere,” he said. “Overturn the furniture.”
“It’s wicker!” Teresa said.
“I’m not so sure about this, anymore,” Loretta said.
The sound of the approaching horses was deafening.
“Just get ready!” Clint shouted.
~*~
Lomax didn’t bother to look back to see how many men were following him. But he could hear their horses, and knew it was most of them.
Hopefully, it was enough.
~*~
“They’re not all comin’!” Teresa yelled. “Look!”
Clint could see that about half a dozen men had not only stayed back, but were turning their horses to leave. The bluff had worked, and cut down on the numbers he had to face.
Now, if only the ladies could shoot half as well as they said they could.
~*~
Skinner wasn’t as sure as Lomax was. He looked back and saw how many men had deserted them.
“Lomax!” he yelled. “Frank!”
Lomax was just ahead of him, but he wasn’t listening. And Skinner knew that the Gunsmith would kill him first. He dug his heels into his mount, catching up to Lomax, and just as the man squeezed off his first shot, Skinner leaped from his saddle and took Lomax off his horse.
They both hit the ground hard.
~*~
“Fire!” Clint shouted.
He heard the woman’s rifles, but he was concentrating on what he was doing. He fired with both hands, and every shot he fired found a target. He saw Skinner and Lomax fall from their saddles, but there was so much dust being kicked up by the horses he couldn’t see what happened to them.
In minutes the rest of Lomax’s men were right in front of the house, and Clint’s attention was completely on them. He kept taking men from their saddles with a single shot, saw others falling so he knew the women were being effective. He felt something pluck at his sleeve, and something else pierced his hat, and then there was a stinging sensation in his side, but he kept firing. When his modified Colt was empty he holstered it, snatched his Colt New Line from behind his back. The little pistol was good for close up work, and by this time the riders were on top of them. Clint even moved off the porch onto the g
round to get himself closer to them, and fired the smaller Colt with great accuracy.
And then, suddenly, it was quiet. A few riders were turning and riding off, while others were lying in the dirt.
Clint stuck the New Line back in his belt, grabbed his Colt from his holster and hastily reloaded it, just in case.
“Everybody okay?” he yelled, turning.
He saw Loretta and Teresa together on the porch to his right, and then Loretta raised her head and looked at him, wild-eyed, shouting, “Clint!”
Forty-Six
Clint lifted Belinda in his arms and carried her into the house. She was bleeding profusely from a wound in her chest. He carried her to the sofa and set down.
She reached out and grabbed his arm. “Did we get them? Did we beat them?”
“We sure did. We beat them all. Now you just relax.”
“Quick,” Loretta said to Teresa. “I need some hot water and bandages!”
Clint knew water and bandages were not going to do any good, not with where that wound was located, but he didn’t stop Teresa from running to the kitchen.
“Are you and Teresa all right?” he asked.
“We’re fine.” She was tearing Belinda’d shirt off so she could see the wound, then took a glance at Clint. “You’re bleedin’.”
He looked down at his side, touched it with his hand.
“It’s not bad. The bullet took a chunk out of me and kept going. Just pay attention to Belinda.”
He moved away from the sofa to look out the front window. There were bodies everywhere, and in one or two cases they were trying to move. The horses that hadn’t run off were milling about, confused. But as hard as he looked, he couldn’t see either Lomax or Skinner.
He knew he should go out and check the bodies, see if Lomax was dead, but he didn’t want to leave the girls alone in the house. If Lomax wasn’t dead, then maybe this wasn’t over.
Teresa came back into the room with the water and bandages, crouched down next to her older sister, and they both ministered to Belinda’s wound. After a while, Teresa stood up and walked over to join Clint at the window. Her hands were stained with her sister’s blood.
“How is she?” Clint asked.
“Still alive,” she said. “What’s happening out there?”
“There are a couple of men crawling around in the dirt.”
“Then it’s over?” she said.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Clint sad. “I don’t see Lomax.”
“But it worked,” she said. “Your plan worked.”
“I guess you could say that,” he said. “We made his men nervous. Some of them took off, others were so nervous they weren’t firing effectively. Meanwhile, you and your sisters did very well.”
“We told you we could shoot.”
“Yes, you did.”
Teresa went back over to her two sisters, put her hands into the already bloody water and then wiped them on a towel.
“Teresa,” Clint called.
“Yes?”
“I hate to say it, but somebody should watch the back door. At least until we know it’s over.”
“Go ahead,” Loretta said to her sister. “I’ll call you if I need you.”
Teresa picked up her rifle and stood up.
“Make sure you reload,” Clint called after her.
“All right.”
Clint walked over to the sofa to look down at Belinda. Her eyes were closed, her pallor grey and her breathing shallow. It didn’t look good, but he said nothing.
“I’ve got to get some more water,” Loretta said.
“I’ll stay with her,” Clint replied.
“I won’t be long.”
Clint stood by the couch while Loretta went to get more water and bandages. Almost as soon as she left, Belinda’s eyes fluttered, and then opened. When she was Clint standing over her she smiled.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
“How bad am I?”
“Pretty bad.”
“At least you’re tellin’ me the truth,” she said. “Loretta and Teresa wouldn’t do that.”
“It’s what you deserve.”
“Did we beat them?” she asked. “Or did I ask you that already?”
“You did,” he said, “but I’ll tell you again. We beat them.”
“That’s amazin’,” she said. “You were amazin’. I watched you. You didn’t miss. Not once.”
“Couldn’t afford to.”
“I did,” she said. “I rushed.”
“You did your part,” Clint assured her. “You all did.”
“Are you gonna leave now?” she asked.
“Not just yet.”
“Good.”
She closed her eyes again.
When Loretta returned she asked, “How is she?”
“Came to for a minute,” he said. “We talked.”
Loretta crouched down next to her sister, put down the water and fresh bandages.
“Sit down and take off your shirt,” she said, “let me look at your wound.”
Clint didn’t argue. His side was starting to feel numb. He removed his shirt and sat in a chair. He did not remove his gunbelt.
“What did you tell her?” she asked, dabbing at the wound.
“The truth,” he said.
“Did you have to?”
“I did, yes,” he said.
“What is the truth?” she asked.
“I think you know.”
“Clint—” she started, but suddenly the front door slammed open, and there was no time for talk.
Forty-Seven
After Skinner took Lomax off his horse the two struck the ground and rolled. Horses began to pass them, kicking dust up like a thick cloud.
“Come on!” Skinner shouted, grabbing Lomax by the arm.
“What the—” Lomax snapped, stunned.
Skinner dragged him out of harm’s away, off to one side of the house, away from the action.
“Where are we?” Lomax demanded. “What happened?”
“We took cover on one side of the house,” Skinner said.
“Why? What’d you do?”
“Adams was gonna kill you first,” Skinner said. “I couldn’t let that happen. Look.”
They watched from their bellies as the Gunsmith and the women took apart the rest of their gang.
“Jesus,” Lomax said, “look at him shoot.”
“I’ve seen him shoot before,” Skinner said, “that’s how I knew he’d kill you.”
“We gotta help,” Lomax said, starting to get up. Skinner grabbed him again.
“Take it easy,” he said. “We’re on foot.”
“What do you suggest, then?”
“We could get out of here on foot, regroup, come back another time.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Okay, then,” Skinner said, “why don’t we wait for the action to be over, let them think they’ve won, and then go in?”
“Okay,” Lomax said, settling down on his belly, “that’s a plan.”
~*~
Eventually, the shooting stopped. Lomax and Skinner watched Clint Adams carry one of the women into the house.
“She’s hurt,” Lomax said.
“That’ll keep him busy,” Skinner said. “We can go around back.”
“No,” Lomax sad, “he’ll have somebody watch the back. We go in the front, and we go in shootin’.”
“You don’t think he’ll see us?”
“I think he’ll be distracted,” Lomax said. “Let’s just wait a few more minutes, and then go.”
~*~
Minutes later they moved out among their fallen comrades. All were dead except for a couple who were crawling around in the dirt.
“We need to help them,” Skinner said.
“Later,” Lomax said, “after we’ve killed Adams and the girls.”
“There’s still four of them, and two of us,” Skinner said.
“Three,” Lomax said. “One
of them is hurt.”
“That’s true,” Skinner said. “And I think the Gunsmith was hit.”
“That’ll be helpful,” Lomax said. He looked at the front of the house. “See? Nobody’s at the window. Now’s the time.”
He ran for the front door, with Skinner right behind him. Lomax waited.
“We go in together,” he said, gun in hand. “Ready?’
“As I’ll ever be,” Skinner said, drawing his gun.
~*~
As the door sprang open and two men charged into the room. Clint reached out with his left hand to grab Loretta and shove her out of harm’s way. With his right hand he drew his gun as he was getting to his feet.
Lomax and Skinner already had their guns in their hands. They were firing as Clint brought his weapon to bear. But as was the case with most gunfights, their shots were rushed. It was not always the fastest who survived, or even those who already had their guns in their hands, but the man who fired with pinpoint accuracy, no matter what the situation.
That was the Gunsmith.
He fired a shot, which hit Skinner square in the chest and drove him out the door. He wouldn’t be coming back in.
“Hold it there!” he snapped at Lomax.
Lomax froze with his gun in his hand.
“Holster it,” Clint said.
Lomax did.
Clint holstered his.
“Now what?” Lomax asked.
“Your choice,” Clint said. “Turn around and walk out, or go for your gun.”
Teresa came running in from the kitchen, rifle in hand. She aimed it at Lomax.
“Clint!”
“Stand still, Teresa!” he called out.
“These women killed my brothers!” Lomax groused.
“Your brothers deserved to die,” Clint said. “And I have the feeling you do, too.”
“You—” Lomax said, and went for his gun.
Forty-Eight
Clint hammered the cross into the ground with the shovel and stepped back from the grave.
“Somebody should say somethin’,” Teresa sobbed.
Clint looked at Loretta, the older sister.
“She was our little sister,” Loretta said. “Now she’s with our parents, and with God.” She looked up. “Take care of her.”
