The Lady Takes A Gunslinger (Wild Western Rogues Series, Book 1) by Barbara Ankrum

Author:Barbara Ankrum [Ankrum, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2016-06-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Ephram Sanders gathered Lyle St. John's shirt in his fist and drew him up on his toes against the wall of one of Brownsville's finer drinking establishments.

"Where?" he demanded. "And how long ago?"

"Yesterday, a-about this time, j-just upriver from Palmetto Hill," St. John choked out, clamping a hand over Sanders's fist. "Looky, you got no call to—"

"How many were there?" Sanders snapped, cutting him off.

"Three. Donovan, the old man, and the woman."

Sanders's eyes narrowed. "A woman, you say?"

"That's right. Look, I only come to you 'cause I thought it might be worth somethin' to you to know—"

"What about the boy?" the marshal pressed.

St. John shook his head and gulped. "Boy? There weren't no boy. Just her. Blond she was, and a looker. A gutsy little bitch, too. Made herself out to be Donovan's intended. Thought I was stupid or somethin'."

Sanders stared at the man for a full five seconds. "You are stupid," he said at last, shoving the man away from him. St. John stumbled back into Tom Oakes, whose nose and mouth were swollen and discolored.

Fists balled at his sides, the marshal stared at the ground. A woman. Not a boy. He felt his heartbeat slow to a dull thud. No wonder the trio had slipped through their fingers. All this time they'd been looking for something that didn't exist. Two memories flashed in his mind almost at the same moment: first, the woman in widow's weeds who had come to the jail that day—Donovan's sister. Second, the clumsy blond in the cantina the night his brother was shot, the one who'd stood up for the bastard.

A woman. Not a boy.

He lifted his gaze accusingly to Connell Smith. "A woman?"

The deputy's jaw tightened. "I never saw any woman. It was a boy who broke into the jail. A grubby little street urchin with dirt on his nose."

"Shee-it," Tobins muttered disgustedly.

"And I say you're a liar," Cal Mollen drawled. "I say you knew it was a girl all along and you kept it to yourself." He opened his arms wide with speculation. "What was it, Smith? Afraid if it got out it was a female who stole a prisoner out from under your nose, that little wife o' yours wouldn't be able to hold her head up in town? Is that it?" He took a step closer. "Or were you just throwin' us off the scent 'cause you're a mick lover?"

"Shut up, Mollen," Smith warned.

Mollen glanced at the silent men around him: Del Odem, Hidalgo, and Tobins. "Well, I'll say it if nobody else will. Everybody thinks it. You let him escape."

Connell Smith's fist caught Mollen hard across the jaw before the second man had time to react. The tejano sprawled in the dirt flat on his back. He reached up to his jaw in surprise, then lunged for Smith. He hit him at knee level, taking the deputy down hard onto the street. The pair rolled in the dirt, pummeling each other until a single gunshot, digging into the soil inches from their heads, stopped them.

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