“Maybe not, but from the sound of it I expected to find a small army trying to fight them off inside the house, not just the two of you.”
“Luke did most of it.” Sally gave credit where credit was due. “I never saw anybody handle guns like that, Smoke . . . well, nobody but you, that is.”
“It’s a skill that seems to run in the family.” Smoke took a sip of his coffee and fixed Luke with an intent look across the table. “I heard you were killed fighting Yankees in the wilderness, and then told later you were murdered by those varmints who stole that shipment of Confederate gold. What’s the real story, Luke?”
“I suppose if anyone has a right to hear it, it’s you.” Luke looked away. “Some of it’s not too pretty, though.”
“I want to know anyway.”
“Of course.”
For the next half hour, Luke told them everything that had happened since that fateful night in Richmond with the Yankee artillery pounding away at the city. He didn’t leave out anything. When he was finished, he glanced at Sally and saw tears shining in her eyes.
“You considered yourself a failure because those terrible men ambushed you?” She wiped at a tear.
“They stole the gold I was supposed to protect. They killed my friends.”
“And they nearly killed you! My God, Luke, that wasn’t your fault. You could have gone back home to your family.”
He shrugged. “I saw it differently.” He knew from the look in Smoke’s eyes that his brother understood.
“That wasn’t all. I was wanted for murder in Georgia.”
“Well, that just wasn’t right,” Sally declared. “You were only trying to protect that girl and her grandfather.”
“Yes, but I figured I’d caused enough trouble for them.”
“
“Well, that’s something to aspire to, isn’t it?” Smoke asked with a faint smile.
“Maybe ... but it’s not human.” Sally took Smoke’s hand, then reached across the table and clasped Luke’s hand, too. “At least the two of you are back together, after all these years. Now I understand why you seemed so familiar to me, Luke. Even though you and Smoke don’t look that much alike, I was seeing him in you. I knew there was something special about you all along.”
“That’s nice to hear,” he told her as he squeezed her hand.
“And you have a home again at last,” Sally added.
Luke didn’t say anything. Glancing at Smoke, he saw the knowledge in his brother’s eyes and realized Smoke knew he wasn’t going to stay on permanently. Luke could never adjust to that sort of life. The wanderlust was just too strong in him.
Anyway, he still had outlaws to hunt down.
But not right away.
At that moment, he was content to sit in a quiet kitchen with his family and know that, while the place would never be his home, it was as close to one as he would ever come.
EPILOGUE
Three weeks later, on a cool morning with streamers of fog hanging around the mountain peaks in the distance, Luke saddled the fine horse Smoke had insisted was his and led the animal out of the barn, leading a packhorse behind him. He had thought he might be able to slip away from the ranch without anybody noticing until he was gone, but he supposed that was too much to hope for.
Smoke stood waiting for him. “You don’t have to go, you know.”
“Yeah, I do.” Luke checked the cinches one more time. “I’ve been talking to Monte Carson, and he tells me that Badger McCoy was spotted up in Laramie a few days ago.”
Monte Carson was the local sheriff in Big Rock, and he had a whole desk drawer full of wanted posters he had let Luke look through.
“Badger McCoy,” Smoke repeated.
“Train robber. The reward’s only eight hundred dollars, but I have a hunch I can get more out of the railroad if I’m able to recover some of the loot McCoy’s stolen, too.”
“So you’re bound and determined to go on risking your life hunting down fugitives?”
“It’s what I do,” Luke said. If anybody could understand that, it was Smoke.
After a moment, Smoke nodded. “Sally won’t be happy you didn’t tell her good-bye.”
Luke shook his head. “Not good at that.”
“I know. I’ll try to explain it to her. And I’ll tell her you promised to come back. You will, won’t you? I want you to meet Preacher and Matt.”
“I’d like that.” Luke put out his hand. “Next time.”
“Next time,” Smoke agreed as he shook hands.
Luke swung up into the saddle, but before he could ride away, Smoke went on, “There’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Forget about calling yourself Luke Smith. You’ve got a name. You should use it.”
Luke frowned. “You really want people to know me as Luke Jensen? A bounty hunter?”
“You’re a good man and you’re my brother.” Smoke looked up at Luke. “That’s all I care about. Jensen’s a proud name, and I think you should wear it.”
Luke thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “All right. If that’s what you want, I can do that.”
“Good. So long, Luke.”
Lifting a hand in farewell, Luke turned his horses and rode out of the ranch yard.
“Don’t forget!” Smoke called after him. “You always have a home here if you want it!”
Luke waved, but didn’t look back as he rode north.
But it was a pretty thing to think about. It surely was.
Turn the page for an exciting preview of
SAVAGE TEXAS: A GOOD DAY TO DIE
In Hangtree, Texas, any day could be your last.
On the heels of the Civil War, the town is drawing gamblers, fast women, and faster gunmen. Amid the brawls and shooting, the land grabbing and card sharking, two men barely hold the boomtown together: Yankee Sam Heller and Texan Johnny Cross. Heller and Cross can’t stand the sight of each other . . . and Hangtree needs them more than ever.
Comanche War Chief Red Hand leads a horde of warriors on a horrific path of bloodshed and destruction, with Hangtree sitting right in his path.
For a town bitterly divided, and for Heller and Cross, the time has come to unite and stand shoulder to shoulder—and fight, live, or die for their little slice of hell called Hangtree.
Available July 2012
Wherever Kensington Books are sold.
CHAPTER 1
On a night in late May 1866, Comanche Chief Red Hand took up the Fire Lance to proclaim the opening of the warm weather raiding season—a time of torture, plunder, and murder. For warlike Comanche braves, the best time
