Read Outlaw's Reckoning Online

Authors: J. R. Roberts

Outlaw's Reckoning (19 page)

“Not in so many words, but he's not about to let you off easy now that you're so close. I've seen his intentions in his eyes. When he mentions you or that money you took, he looks more like a wolf than a man. He's out to kill you,” Clint told him. “And he won't settle for anything else.”
Matt's eyes drifted back toward Faith's house. He was walking away from that little house before he even managed to look back at Clint. Still walking through an open stretch between the house and Saddlewood's only street, Matt said, “I knew Ben would be following us here.”
“So did I,” Clint said with a short laugh. “I watched them follow us the whole way here, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. You must think I'm crazy for leading them here, though.”
“Not if Ben already knows about this woman.”
“Faith.”
Clint nodded and took note of the subtle change in Matt's face when he said her name. “Right. Faith. If Ben knows about Faith, this is probably the best place for us to be.”
Matt nodded and let out a relieved breath.
“Still,” Clint continued, “no matter how good your intentionsare for this money you stole, I can't just let you keep on robbing from the bad and giving to the good. You're not Robin Hood, you know.”
Squinting at Clint's reference, Matt shook his head and replied, “I can't stay here, either. After breaking out of jail, there's men after me.”
“I doubt it's too bad. That is, unless someone's renewed the price on your head.”
“That should happen as soon as someone in that jail realizes I'm gone, and Lord only knows when that'll be.”
“It shouldn't be too much longer after I take you back there so you can serve out the rest of your time.”
When Clint said that, he shifted his hand a bit closer to the Colt at his side. His eyes remained locked on Matt, waiting to catch any sign that the man might not like what he'd just heard.
But all Matt did was nod. He looked more tired than anything else. The most emotion he showed was when he shot a backward glance at Faith's house. “Say what you want, Adams, but you gotta admit I'm doing more good out here than swinging from the end of a noose.”
“That depends on how this turns out. You may just get an innocent woman killed.”
“Nobody's gonna lay a hand on Faith,” Matt snarled.
“And nobody would have much reason to if you were still locked up in your cell.”
Slowly, the fire faded from Matt's eyes and he nodded once more. “I guess you've got a point there.”
“You know I do.”
“And what do you intend to do about it?”
“I haven't quite decided yet,” Clint replied. The truth of the matter was that Clint had been hoping to make a decision when he saw how Matt reacted to this very conversation. Unfortunately, Matt hadn't done anything to push Clint away from his original path.
“Tell you what, Adams,” Matt said. “I don't blame you for wanting to wash your hands of this, so we can part ways and call it a day.”
Slowly, Clint shook his head. “I can't do that. I came along this far to see to it that you didn't get anyone else hurt or try to pick up where you left off as far as what you were doing before going to jail.”
“I'm not that man anymore, Adams. You may not have known me back then, but you've got to know I ain't a killer no more.”
“I know, but you're a thief and you're a fugitive from the law. I may not wear a badge, but I can't just turn my back on something like this. Besides, Faith is still in danger of getting caught in a cross fire.”
“Not if I take her away from this place, go somewhere quiet and never look back,” Matt said hopefully.
Clint nodded toward the gunmen that were walking straight toward them. “Too late for that.”
FORTY-THREE
Ben Jarrett was flanked on each side by another man. All three of them walked toward Clint and Matt with their hands resting on their holstered guns. Stopping just over ten paces away from them, Ben planted his feet and waited for his two partners to get situated on either side of him.
Matt did his best to keep from looking at Faith's house, but he did manage to position himself between her and the three gunmen.
Clint stepped away from Matt so the three gunmen wouldn't be able to watch him and Matt so easily. Also, Clint wasn't anxious to give Ben only one large target to fire at instead of two smaller ones.
“You had your chance to steer clear of this, Adams,” Ben announced. “But there ain't no backing out now.”
“I wasn't going anywhere,” Clint replied.
“Good. That means you can bear witness to Matt handing back my money.” As he said those words, Ben straightened up and puffed out his chest like an artist admiring his own masterpiece. His smugness only grew when the men on either side of him leaned forward in preparation of the moment they were told to draw their guns.
Matt watched Ben's display with interest. In fact, he watched as though he were sitting in a comfortable chair as a play unfolded before him. After a few quiet moments, Matt finally spoke up. “Fuck you,” he said.
“What did you just say to me?” Ben asked.
“You heard me. The money's gone, and even if it wasn't, I wouldn't hand over a single dime.”
Ben glanced back and forth at the two men beside him. Until now, Clint was content to watch the two men posture in front of one another and spew out their tough words. He only got worried when he saw Ben give his two partners a subtle nod and then tighten his grip on the handle of his gun.
If Clint had had any hope that Ben could be talked out of making a wrong move, he would have started talking. If Clint had thought there was any way of changing Ben's mind, he would have given it a try. Since he'd already tried his hand at those things, he figured the best he could do was stand by and try to keep the approaching storm from doing too much damage.
Apparently, Matt was a bit more hopeful than even Clint would have given him credit for.
“Money comes and goes, Ben,” Matt said. “We both know that. I know I took away a whole lot of it from you, but no money's worth your life.”
“It ain't my life on the line right now, asshole,” Ben replied. “Besides that, I can't let it be known that someone can steal from me and keep breathing. Not even if it's you.”
Matt might have gone on to try and keep Ben talking. He might have even tried to bargain his way out of the fight that he'd known was coming all this time. But it was too late for that. It was one time that Clint hated being right.
FORTY-FOUR
Ben Jarrett and the two men with him went for their guns at the same time.
Clint pulled the modified Colt from its holster before any of the three men made a move, but only got a shot off at one of them. That shot was slightly off its mark since all three of the gunmen were firing at him.
Spotting the motion of the men's eyes as they focused in on him, Clint threw himself to one side while pulling his trigger. Even though he'd been expecting to be fired upon, being the target of all three was enough to make him nervous. Pulling his trigger while diving to the left, Clint saw his bullet clip the closest of the three gunmen.
Another shot blasted through the air when Matt's pistol sent a round of hot lead screaming toward the gunman on Ben's left. Since Matt wasn't the target of the outlaws' first salvo, he kept his hand steady, held his ground and dropped the gunman with one shot.
Clint landed solidly on the ground and was able to break his fall with his free arm before knocking all the wind from his own lungs. His gun arm raised as if he was pointing at his target with his finger and then he pulled the trigger. The modified Colt bucked against Clint's palm and sent a shot through the closest gunman.
Danny's head snapped back and his eyes blinked once in surprise. A confused expression drifted onto his face as he dropped to his knees and fell forward. Blood from the fresh hole in his forehead soaked into the dirt.
Still aiming at Clint, Ben fired two more shots in quick succession.
The bullets punched into the ground near the spot where Clint had landed, forcing him to roll backward rather than return fire. Even though he didn't have his sights lined up, Clint squeezed off a round as soon as he could. He didn't hit Ben, but he was able to back the gunman a few paces away from him.
“Son of a bitch!” Ben shouted.
When Clint heard that, he expected another shot or two to follow it. Instead, he heard Ben's voice shouting even louder.
“Goddamn son of a bitch!” With that, Ben fired once more.
Although Clint reflexively pressed himself low to the ground, that shot didn't come anywhere near him. The next shot didn't even come close. Seeing that Ben wasn't even looking in his direction, Clint got to his feet and glanced in the direction he was firing.
Ben fired in the direction where Matt had been a few seconds ago. This time, however, Ben was shooting at empty air.
“Drop the gun, Ben,” Clint said.
Where he'd been cocky before, Ben was now just confused and mad as hell. He held his gun out and looked around as if he was trying to figure out how he'd wound up with the weapon in his hand. “Where the hell is he?” Ben shouted. “He was just here!”
“I said drop the gun!” Clint demanded. “We'll figure the rest out later.”
As the confusion faded from Ben's face, only the anger was left behind. As the seconds ticked by, Ben's lips curled back into a snarl and his knuckles turned white around the grip of his pistol. “You were in on this, Adams. You know where he went.”
Clint couldn't see Matt anywhere within the edges of his vision, but he wasn't about to take his eyes off of Ben to be certain. “This ends here,” Clint declared. “You either drop the gun and we'll find Matt or—”
But Clint didn't need to finish that sentence. Ben finished it for him when he let out a profane shout and swung his gun around to aim at Clint.
The modified Colt barked once more from Clint's hand. It spat a short burst of sparks and smoke while sending a single bullet through the air to punch a hole in Ben's heart.
Clint reloaded the Colt and surveyed the area. As his fingers replaced the spent casings with fresh rounds, he searched for any sign of Matt. By the time he snapped the cylinder shut, he was still coming up short.
The next place he looked was Faith's house. As soon as he saw the front door to the little house swinging halfway open, Clint knew there was something wrong. He broke into a run, but knew what he would find even before he got there.
FORTY-FIVE
Nothing.
When Clint stepped into Faith's house, that was what he found.
Even though the little place didn't look like it had been much to begin with, there had to have been more than what Clint found now. There was a table that looked as if it had been swept clear with a broom, a few overturned chairs, some things scattered in the kitchen and a bed without any sheets or blankets.
Clint didn't even bother asking if anyone was home. There was no place for anyone to hide. Walking through the little house, Clint found a chest with a few odd pieces of clothing in it and an old wardrobe that was open and in a state similar to the rest of the house. Letting out an exasperated breath, Clint headed for the front door.
That was when he saw the note.
Written on a piece of paper and hanging from a nail that had probably held up a picture frame not too long ago, the note bore only a few sentences written in a hasty scrawl:
Went to Canada. If we cross paths again, I'll let you take me back to jail. Thanks for the help.
Matt
 
Oddly enough, those words and the abandoned house were more than enough to set Clint's mind at ease.
If Matt had wanted to turn on Clint, he would have done so when the lead was flying.
From what Clint had seen, Matt Fraley really wasn't such a bad fellow any longer. Clint's instincts even told him to believe that Matt had truly gone to Canada as the note said.
If Matt had wanted to rattle the cages of any more killers, he wouldn't have taken Faith along with him. And since Faith was along for the ride, Clint figured she would be all the outlaw needed to keep his nose clean and stay out of sight.
There was still the matter of the last bit of money that Matt had stolen, but Clint couldn't get himself to be too upset about that. Even if the money had been stolen from someone else's pockets, it was being put to good use.
It wasn't a perfect way to end his ride with Matt Fraley, but it was good enough. And sometimes, that was as good as any man could ask for.
Watch for 
WAY WITH A GUN
 
310
th
novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series
from Jove  
Coming in October!

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