Death at Devil's Gap by Terrell L. Bowers

Author:Terrell L. Bowers [Bowers, Terrell L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-08-14T20:38:00+00:00

As was his habit, Lane rose just before daylight. He tested his wounded leg, granted his satisfaction at the amount of pain from each movement. He'd been fortunate in the bullet's location. It had torn through muscle and tissue, but it hadn't done any permanent damage. He felt that if he tried, he could walk fairly normally.

After dressing, Lane strapped on his gun, habitually checked the loads, and put on his hat. He picked up his saddlebags and opened the door.

Something too fast to be seen crashed against his skull, knocking him backwards. He felt the floor slam against the back of his head, and then the world went black....

From the depths of an infinite world of darkness, something stirred Lane's senses. He was roused by a distant voice, and it seemed that someone was shaking him by the shoulders. He fought his way to consciousness to grasp the words.

"McCord! You got too thick head to be hurt. Wake up, McCord!"

Lane shook the cobwebs from his mind, finally managing to open his eyes. He looked up at Little Smoke as the Indian helped him up into a sitting position.

"Someone put you at ease, you bet. Big lump on head."

"I can feel it on both sides, Smokey."

"Who man that did this thing?"

Lane gently fingered the bump on his forehead. "Must have hit me with a club or the butt of his gun. I didn't see anything at all."

"White squaw gone, McCord. What now we do?"

Lane got to his feet with Little Smoke's help, but he was groggy, unsteady. The world seemed to spin beneath him, and there were a thousand hammers banging inside of his skull.

"They all pulled out?" Lane asked.

"Me come to find you-they gone. Me think white squaw ride with some bad white men!"

Lane took several deep breaths, fighting the dizziness and pain. There it was, as plain as the bump on his head. Kim had left him and Smokey behind. It was probably what she'd come to tell him the previous night, but he'd been so busy being beguiled by her dazzling eyes and beauty that he'd missed the true meaning of her visit. The kiss she'd given him so willingly had been good-bye.

"Me think we see last of white woman, McCord. You better to forget ever know her, you bet."

Walking over to the window, Lane found a certain amount of steadiness was returning to his senses. He looked into the street below and let out a deep breath very slowly. He'd made a royal fool out of himself over Kimberly Torrey. It was nothing new to him, for he'd been a little foolish over a girl once or twice before. But this time this time he'd thought the feeling was returned. Even with the girl promised to another, he'd had his hopes. He could see how utterly ridiculous those hopes had been now, but it didn't help.

"I wish my damn leg was better, Little Smoke."

"For why?"

"I'd go down to the saloon and wait for the first big Yankee who walked through the door.

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