It was so full and deep and rich, it would almost be worth getting’ shot just to hear him talk about it afterward.

Almost.

I glanced at Shrug, but he seemed fresh out of ideas. I kicked a clod off the bottom of my boot and looked back up at Bose Rennick.

“You got a damn fine voice, Mr. Rennick,” I said.

“Fuck you!”

No doubt about it, we were in a bad way.

I’d left my six gun and derringer in my saddlebag last night. I would’ve had the derringer, but was afraid I might accidentally shoot Gentry while rollin’ around on the ground with her. So I was unarmed, Shrug was on the wrong side of the shotguns, and Rose had disappeared into thin air. The only thought that gave me comfort was knowin’ Gentry was still on the hill, safe and sound. While she didn’t have much frontier experience, she was resourceful. If worse came to worse, she ought to be able to make her way back to Springfield.

As if readin’ my mind, Bose motioned toward the hill where Gentry and I laid together fifteen minutes earlier.

“There ain’t but three trees on that hill,” Bose said, “but your yaller-faced girlfriend is tied to one of ’em. Earl Grubbs is fuckin’ her at the moment, but in ten minutes, if we ain’t back, his orders are to shoot her.”

I wanted to rush him. If I did, would he and the others be startled enough to start shootin’? If I could draw their fire, maybe Shrug would have enough time to pull some stones from his pouch. Shrug was fast and deadly, and he might be able to kill one or two of ’em and get away. If that happened, he might be able to save the women. Maybe Gentry, too.

It weren’t a great plan, but it was worth a try. They’d kill me, but they were gonna kill me anyway.

As I got ready to make my move, several things went through my mind. I wondered how far I’d get. Would I make it to Rennick’s horse? I didn’t think so. Bose was a lightning-quick, deadly shooter, and I’d get no more than four feet.

I hesitated.

It was a poor plan. I wouldn’t live long enough to draw fire from the other two. Unless I could come up with a way to make all three gunmen concentrate on me.

The odds weren’t high, but they weren’t impossible, neither.

“Get them outta the wagon or I’ll shoot you where you stand,” Bose said.

I took a deep breath.

It was now or never.

I reminded myself to turn sideways as I attacked, to give ’em a smaller target. Maybe I’d point at somethin’ or shout before runnin’ at him. That might distract the others. And Shrug would take the cue, right? Of course he would. He was always alert, always ready.

I looked up at Bose.

That’s what I’d do, shout somethin’. Shout somethin’, then rush him, fast and furious as possible.

I made my move, and I did manage to get the shout out.

But before I could rush Bose Rennick, all hell broke loose.

 


 

 

 

32.

 

It started with Rose, who came from—well, I don’t know where the hell she came from, but I felt her hand on my shoulder, and when I turned to look, her mouth was movin’ fast as lightnin’.

But no words were comin’ out.

She weren’t starin’ at me or Bose or Sam or the other guy, just straight ahead. I heard Bose yell “What the hell?” and then his horse started twitchin’ and shiverin’ uncontrollably. Its nostrils flared and its eyes bugged out.