Benedict and Brazos 27 by E. Jefferson Clay

Author:E. Jefferson Clay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: kidnapping, action adventure, elmore leonard, gunfighters, outlaws, the old west, piccadilly publishing, james reasoner, pulp western fiction, fictional wild west
Publisher: Piccadilly

“Marshal!”

Brazos’ voice drifted down from the canyon rim.

“Here, Brazos!”

Touching his horse with his heels, Brazos went down the canyon slope in the direction of the voice. Hoof echoes came back from the walls as the rider crossed a wide slab of stone, then faded as he slowed.

“Where are you, Marshal?” he called.

A tall figure rose from behind a star-sheened boulder directly before him. Brazos started to grin, but it faded when he realized that Fallon had his hands at shoulder level.

“Marshal! What the blue blazes—”

“Afraid you’ll have to shuck your gun, Brazos, on account I’ve got a gun on me.”

Instinctively Brazos’ hand streaked towards gun butt, but a deeper voice from the shadows behind Fallon’s figure halted him.

“Do like he says, Texan. If you don’t, I’ll kill Fallon, then you.”

“He can do it, too, Brazos,” Fallon said in a hollow voice. “It’s Caleb Flint.”

Brazos’ hand fell from his gun handle. Nobody had ever accused the giant young Texan of a shortage of nerve, but he had no taste for suicide. And he’d ridden enough dangerous trails to know that his own gun talents didn’t put him in the same class as real professionals like Benedict. Or Caleb Flint.

He unbuckled his broad leather gunbelt one-handed and let the rig drop to the ground. Bullpup growled menacingly as he sensed the tension in the air, but Brazos silenced him with a word. He swung down as the second figure rose behind Fallon.

“Wise man,” Flint approved, then beckoned him closer.

Brazos’ face was stony as he moved forward. His eyes searched Fallon’s pale features, then moved onto the man with the gun. He found himself trading stares with a man almost as big as himself with a broad brown face and eyes of piercing gray.

The Texan nodded silently to himself as he halted. From experience, he knew that more often than not, famous men failed to measure up to their reputations when seen in the flesh. Caleb Flint however, looked big enough and hard enough to fit his violent legend.

“I’m sorry, Brazos,” said the marshal, lowering his hands. “I want you to believe that I wouldn’t have suckered you in for him, only for Rachel.”

“What’s the score, Marshal?” Brazos asked quietly.

Fallon shrugged. “I was careless and he jumped me. He’s after Holly and he thinks that we should help him. But tell me, man, what news of Rachel?”

“None.”

“What?”

“Nary a sign. Holly and Benedict seem to reckon she could be in Drum, but that’s all I got to tell you, Marshal.” Shoulders slumping, Fallon lowered himself to a boulder and rested his hands on his knees.

“She must be there,” he said. “She has to be.”

“Holly’s still there, Texan?” asked Flint.

“Yeah.” Brazos’ brow furrowed. “The marshal says you’re after him, Flint. Does that mean you want to kill him?”

“Mean to, and will.”

“Why?”

“What does it matter?”

“What’s to lose by tellin’ us?” Brazos countered.

Flint glanced from one to the other, then shrugged. “Nothin’ I suppose,” he said. “Holly tried to kill me early last week, came mighty close. He did kill some people I knew .

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