“Go get yourself some breakfast—and make it last.”
The old man stood up, padlocked the livery doors, then ambled away, counting his money.
Decker had effectively cut Brand off from his horse. Now the only way he’d get out of town was on foot or by stealing someone else’s horse.
From the rooftop of the Feed and Grain, Brand saw what Decker was doing, and he admired him for it. He’d managed to lock away both of their horses, and since, at this time of the morning, there weren’t that many animals on the street, Brand would have limited opportunity to steal one—not that he had any intentions of doing so. The only thing on his mind right now was getting rid of Decker.
He picked up his rifle and sighted down on the bounty hunter, who was standing in front of the locked livery. Brand knew he was a better shot with a handgun than a rifle, but he decided to give it a try, anyway.
Decker heard the shot and the sound of the bullet as it whizzed past his ear and embedded itself in the livery door. As he ducked for cover he realized that the shot was too damn close to be a deliberate miss.
Brand was playing for the whole pot now.
Decker couldn’t see where the Baron was, but the highest point he could have fired from was the Feed and Grain. It afforded him the best view of the livery. That meant that Brand knew he was locked into town.
Decker moved around behind the livery, then along the back of a block of stores in order to get to the Feed and Grain. He knew Brand would be gone by now, but it would give him a starting point.
He’d never tried to track a man through a town before, but there was a first time for everything.
Josephine heard the shot and jumped in her seat.
“That was a rifle, wasn’t it?” she asked Potts.
“Sounded like it.”
“Decker has a shotgun, doesn’t he?”
“He does, but if he’s worth his salt, he’ll have his rifle with him too. That shotgun’s not gonna do him much good from across the street.”
“Were those shots fired from one gun or two?” Josephine demanded apprehensively.
“One, ma’am, but my guess is Decker won’t fire until he knows he’ll hit what he’s shooting at.”
“I see.”
“Can I get you something else, ma’am?”
“Yes,” she said. “I want another glass of whiskey.”
Brand had left the roof of the Feed and Grain just moments before Decker arrived on the scene. He was in front of the building while Decker was in back.
Brand was looking around, trying to gauge his next move, when he noticed that the Broadus House was open.
Why would the saloon be open this early? he wondered.
He headed that way to find out.
Decker was on the roof of the Feed and Grain when he saw Brand go into the saloon.
“Shit!”
Chapter Thirty-two
When Brand entered the saloon he saw Josephine seated at a table, drinking a glass of whiskey.
“Josephine!”
She looked up and saw him, and her eyes went wide. She wasn’t afraid any longer, though. She’d had very little liquor in her life, and two shot glasses had begun to make her feel giddy.
“Well, if it isn’t the notorious Baron,” she said, raising her glass to him. “Decker proving to be an elusive target?”
“What are you doing here?” Brand demanded. “Why aren’t you at the store?”
“Don’t wanna be at the store,” she said. “Don’t wanna be anywhere but here.”
Brand moved to the table, put his rifle down, and grabbed her by the arm.
“Come on—”
“Let go!” she shouted.
“Hey!” Potts said.
Brand glared at him and said, “You stay out of this, bartender!”
“She may be your woman, Brand,” Potts said, “but that ain’t no way to treat her.”
Potts started around the bar and Brand reacted through reflex—the reflex that had become part of the Baron’s life.
He drew and fired.
Josephine watched in horror as the bullet struck Potts in the center of the chest. Potts stopped in his tracks, a puzzled look coming over his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and blood trickled from it.
He fell forward, dead.
“No!” Josephine shouted.
She ran and knelt by the body of the dead man, throwing an accusing look at Brand.
“You killed him!” she screamed. “You killed him for no reason!”
“I thought—” he said. “Bartenders usually have a shotgun behind the bar. I thought he was—”
“You didn’t think,” she said. “You just reacted the way a killer reacts. You’re a killer, just like Decker said.”
“Decker!” Brand shouted. “And what do you think Decker is? A saint?”
“He’s an honorable man. He knows what he is and what he does and he doesn’t try to hide it. He doesn’t go off and kill and then come back and hide behind a woman.”
“Is that what you think?” he said. “That I was hiding behind you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I think you’re a coward, Brand—or Baron, or whatever you call yourself! A coward, damn you!” she shouted, and she started crying.
Brand thought she was crying for the bartender or for Decker or for herself. It never occurred to him that she might be crying for him, for the man she had thought he was.
“All right,” he said, looking at his rifle. “All right, then.”
As if on cue, from outside came Decker’s voice.
“Brand! You in there, Brand? Or did you duck out the back door?”
“I’m here,” Brand called out, looking at Josephine. “I’m coming out, Decker.”
Josephine looked up at him then, her face streaked with tears, and said, “Don’t’—”
“Don’t kill him?” he asked. “That’s just what I’m going to do, Josephine. I’m going to kill him!”
As Brand went out the batwing doors, Josephine said in a low voice, “No, I mean…don’t go.”
Decker waited out in the street for Brand.
So, it would end this way after all.
Chapter Thirty-three
BLAM!
Josephine knew that was no rifle, that could only have been a shotgun.
“Once,” she said to the dead Potts. “He fired once, just like you said.”
Epilogue I
When Decker rode into the logging camp trailing a horse with a body slung over it, he drew a lot of attention. Dani Boone came out to meet him, as did Frenchie.
He did not see Jeff Reno.
“Decker, welcome back,” Frenchie said heartily. He looked pointedly at the body on the horse and asked, “Get what you were after?”
“I did,” Decker said, dismounting.
Looking anxious, Dani said, “Did he kill my father?”
“To be honest, Dani, he died before I could ask him.”
She compressed her lips and then said tightly, “You mean you killed him before you could ask him.”
“That’s true,” Decker said, “but I don’t believe he did it.”
“How can you—” she started, but Frenchie put his hand on her shoulder.
“Let the man talk, honey.”
“Are you missing any men?” Decker asked.
“Yeah,” Frenchie said, “as a matter of fact we’re missing two. I understand there’s also a man miss ing from one of the other camps. Why?”
“They trailed me and tried to kill me.”
“Why would they do that?” Dani asked.
“Because they were paid to.”