Decker, his rifle held in his left hand and resting on his shoulder, his right hand dangling by his cutdown, walked along the boardwalk on Main Street like he owned it.
The town was beginning to come to life, people walking on both sides of the street as well as in the middle, wagons clattering past, stores opening. Decker was alert for attack from either side or from the rooftops as he made his way to the livery stable. He still believed Brand wouldn’t run, but now he wanted to make sure.
When he reached the livery the old man was sitting in a chair out front.
“How you doing, old-timer?”
“Fine, mister.”
“And my horse?”
“Your horse is jest fine.”
“That’s good. Uh, you know a fella named Brand?”
“That fella that lives with Miss Josephine?”
“That’s him.”
“Ladies in town don’t approve of that, I kin tell you,” the old man said.
“I guess they wouldn’t. Does he keep his horse here?”
“He sure does. It’s that roan two stalls down from your gelding.”
“He hasn’t been here this morning, has he?”
“Nope.”
“I want you to do me a favor, old-timer.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to lock up for a while.”
“If I lock up, folks won’t be able to get their horses out.”
“That’s the general idea,” Decker said. He took out some money. “Let’s just say I’m renting the whole place for the morning, horses and all.”
The old man looked at the money in his hand and said, “Yes, sir, whatever you say!”
“Go get yourself some breakfast—and make it last.”
The old man stood up, padlocked the livery doors, then ambled away, counting his money.
Decker had effectively cut Brand off from his horse. Now the only way he’d get out of town was on foot or by stealing someone else’s horse.
From the rooftop of the Feed and Grain, Brand saw what Decker was doing, and he admired him for it. He’d managed to lock away both of their horses, and since, at this time of the morning, there weren’t that many animals on the street, Brand would have limited opportunity to steal one—not that he had any intentions of doing so. The only thing on his mind right now was getting rid of Decker.
He picked up his rifle and sighted down on the bounty hunter, who was standing in front of the locked livery. Brand knew he was a better shot with a handgun than a rifle, but he decided to give it a try, anyway.
Decker heard the shot and the sound of the bullet as it whizzed past his ear and embedded itself in the livery door. As he ducked for cover he realized that the shot was too damn close to be a deliberate miss.
Brand was playing for the whole pot now.
Decker couldn’t see where the Baron was, but the highest point he could have fired from was the Feed and Grain. It afforded him the best view of the livery. That meant that Brand knew he was locked into town.
Decker moved around behind the livery, then along the back of a block of stores in order to get to the Feed and Grain. He knew Brand would be gone by now, but it would give him a starting point.
He’d never tried to track a man through a town before, but there was a first time for everything.
Josephine heard the shot and jumped in her seat.
“That was a rifle, wasn’t it?” she asked Potts.
“Sounded like it.”
“Decker has a shotgun, doesn’t he?”
“He does, but if he’s worth his salt, he’ll have his rifle with him too. That shotgun’s not gonna do him much good from across the street.”
“Were those shots fired from one gun or two?” Josephine demanded apprehensively.
“One, ma’am, but my guess is Decker won’t fire until he knows he’ll hit what he’s shooting at.”
“I see.”
“Can I get you something else, ma’am?”
“Yes,” she said. “I want another glass of whiskey.”
Brand had left the roof of the Feed and Grain just moments before Decker arrived on the scene. He was in front of the building while Decker was in back.
Brand was looking around, trying to gauge his next move, when he noticed that the Broadus House was open.
Why would the saloon be open this early? he wondered.
He headed that way to find out.
Decker was on the roof of the Feed and Grain when he saw Brand go into the saloon.
“Shit!”
When Brand entered the saloon he saw Josephine seated at a table, drinking a glass of whiskey.
“Josephine!”
She looked up and saw him, and her eyes went wide. She wasn’t afraid any longer, though. She’d had very little liquor in her life, and two shot glasses had begun to make her feel giddy.
“Well, if it isn’t the notorious Baron,” she said, raising her glass to him. “Decker proving to be an elusive target?”
“What are you doing here?” Brand demanded. “Why aren’t you at the store?”
“Don’t wanna be at the store,” she said. “Don’t wanna be anywhere but here.”
Brand moved to the table, put his rifle down, and grabbed her by the arm.
“Come on—”
“Let go!” she shouted.
“Hey!” Potts said.
Brand glared at him and said, “You stay out of this, bartender!”
“She may be your woman, Brand,” Potts said, “but that ain’t no way to treat her.”
Potts started around the bar and Brand reacted through reflex—the reflex that had become part of the Baron’s life.
He drew and fired.
Josephine watched in horror as the bullet struck Potts in the center of the chest. Potts stopped in his tracks, a puzzled look coming over his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and blood trickled from it.
He fell forward, dead.
“No!” Josephine shouted.
She ran and knelt by the body of the dead man, throwing an accusing look at Brand.
