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A fit of coughing wracked Beaumont, but when he recovered, he laughed. “What are you going to do now?” he asked. “Give me a gun so we can fight a duel? Let me have my knife back so we can settle this with cold steel?”

Preacher peered over the barrel of his pistol at Beaumont, locking eyes with the man. Thinking of Uncle Dan and Brutus and everyone else who had died, he said, “I’m gonna do what I should have done a couple of weeks ago.”

Beaumont’s eyes barely had time to widen in shocked realization before Preacher pulled the trigger.

Preacher left the body where it fell. The burning mansion could serve as a suitable funeral pyre for Shad Beaumont. It was more than the man actually deserved. His corpse should have been tossed into the mud for the pigs, but Preacher was too damned tired to do anything but turn and walk out as the place burned down behind him.

Casey, Jessie, and Lorenzo were waiting for him outside. The two women ran to him and threw their arms around him. As good as that felt, Preacher knew they couldn’t afford to waste any time.

“Let’s get out of here while everybody still ain’t quite sure what’s goin’ on,” he said. They slipped away into the shadows, leaving the shouting, agitated citizenry of St. Louis behind them, along with Beaumont’s men who weren’t aware yet that their employer was never coming out of that inferno.

A couple of blocks away, they found Beaumont’s carriage, with the team hitched to it. Some of Beaumont’s men must have driven it out of the carriage house to save it in case the fire spread that far. Nobody was around at the moment, so Lorenzo opened the door and grinned as he motioned for Preacher, Jessie, and Casey to climb inside.

“Ladies. Gentleman.”

“It ain’t fittin’,” Preacher started to protest.

“It damn sure is!” Lorenzo responded forcefully. “Now get in there, boy, and let’s light a shuck outta here.”

Preacher chuckled and shook his head, but he didn’t argue anymore. He just climbed into the carriage after Jessie and Casey. Lorenzo closed the door, scrambled up to the driver’s seat, and took up the reins. A moment later, the carriage was rolling away.

That was how it came to be parked on a hillside several miles north of town the next morning, overlooking the Mississippi River. Preacher had directed Lorenzo to the spot where he had left Horse and Dog when he started downriver on the little raft, so he could pick up his two old trail partners. Then they had found this spot and camped. Jessie was preparing some breakfast from the supplies Preacher had been planning on taking with him as he headed west with Beaumont in pursuit. Things hadn’t worked out that way, of course, but Beaumont was still dead and the two women were safe. Preacher knew he was going to miss Uncle Dan, though, and he was sure Lorenzo would miss Brutus.

Preacher cleaned the wound on Casey’s cheek as best he could. “That’ll need a sawbones to sew it up, or it’ll leave a scar,” he told her.

She shook her head. “I’m not going back to St. Louis, and I don’t care if there’s a scar. Do you, Preacher?”

“Why would it matter to me?” he asked with a frown.

“Because I’m coming with you.”

Before Preacher could give her a “hell, no,” Lorenzo spoke up, saying, “I’m comin’, too. I always had me a hankerin’ to see some real mountains.”

“Now wait just a doggoned minute,” Preacher said. “What makes you think the Rockies are any place for a—”

“A whore?” Casey challenged him.

“And a nigger?” Lorenzo added.

Preacher scrubbed a hand over his face and heaved a weary sigh. “I was gonna say, a gal and a carriage driver. I don’t give a damn about them other things, and you two know it.”

“Yeah, I reckon,” Lorenzo said gruffly. “But I been around horses all my life. I’ll be all right on the frontier.”

“And I was raised on a farm, remember?” Casey put in. “I’m used to being outdoors. At least, there was a time I was, and I’d like to experience that again.”

“Well, if that don’t beat all.” Preacher turned to Jessie. “I suppose you want to come along and see the mountains, too.”

She smiled up at him from where she was frying some bacon over the fire and said, “Actually, no. It’s been too long since I lived on a farm. I’m afraid I’m a city girl now.”

Preacher frowned. “You can’t mean to go back to St. Louis. Too many folks there know you were plottin’ against Beaumont. Somebody’s gonna take over where he left off, you know, and whoever it is might consider you a threat.”

“That’s why I’m going to take one of those horses, ride around St. Louis, and catch a ride on a riverboat somewhere downstream.” Jessie got a gleam in her eyes. “I’ve always wanted to see New Orleans. I think I’ll do just fine there.”

Preacher couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, I got a hunch you’re right about that.”

“And that way, Casey and Lorenzo can have two of the other horses, and you can use the fourth one as a pack animal. See how neatly that works out?”

Casey said, “Yes, but what will we do with the carriage? Just leave it here?”

Preacher’s eyes narrowed as he studied the slope leading down to the river. It was pretty steep, and the bank dropped off sharply to the water.

“I got me an idea . . .” he said.

The others agreed, and after breakfast, they unhitched the four horses that would now carry them their separate ways, Jessie to the south, Preacher, Casey, and Lorenzo to the west. The carriage was empty. Preacher took the brake off and got behind the vehicle. The others joined him.

“Put your shoulders in it,” he said.

They pushed, and after a moment the heavy carriage began to move, slowly at first and then faster as its weight began to work against it. Gravity took over, and the carriage started rolling down the hill. Preacher and his companions trotted after it for a second, keeping it going, then stopped and stepped back to watch as the vehicle’s momentum made it pick up speed as it headed for the river.

A moment later, the carriage went sailing off the bank to land with a huge splash in the Mississippi. Preacher let out a whoop, and Jessie and Casey clapped their hands. The carriage wound up on its side, floating slowly out of sight around a bend in the river.

“There goes the last of Shad Beaumont,” Jessie said.

Preacher grunted. “Good riddance.”

Casey said, “People in St. Louis are going to be mighty puzzled when they see it floating past, though.”

“It’ll make a good story,” Lorenzo said. “And folks do like a good story.”

Turn the page for an exciting preview of the next

book in the USA Today bestselling new series

MATT JENSEN, THE LAST MOUNTAIN MAN:

SNAKE RIVER SLAUGHTER

by William W. Johnstone

with J. A. Johnstone

On sale February 2010

Wherever Pinnacle books are sold

Chapter 1

Sweetwater County, Wyoming

The Baker brothers, Harry and Arnold, were outside by the barn when they saw Jules Pratt and his wife come out of the house. Scott and Lucy McDonald walked out onto the porch to tell the Pratts good-bye.

“You have been most generous,” Jules said as he climbed up into the surrey. “Speaking on behalf of the laity of the church, I can tell you that every time we hear the beautiful music of the new organ, we will be thinking of, and thanking you.”

“It was our pleasure,” Scott said. “The church means a great deal to us, more than we can say. And we are more than happy to do anything we can to help out.”