Clint removed his gunbelt and walked slowly over to them. Johnny saw the man coming at him and instinctively slipped the thongs off the hammers of his Colts. Then he noticed that Clint was not armed. His eyes found the pack horse.
“What the hell…” he muttered.
Clint had some papers in his right hand.
Clint stopped about twenty-five feet from the trio. “I’m friendly,” he said.
“Come on,” Johnny said.
Clint held the papers out to Belle. Slowly, she took them. Clint said, “It won’t make up for what was done to your daughter and your husband, but it’s something I’d like to do.” He turned and walked back to his horses.
Belle, Johnny, and Hunt watched him swing into the saddle and ride out of their lives.
“Let me see those papers, Belle,” Hunt said. The lawyer quickly scanned first one paper, then the others— older, slightly yellowing around the edges. He began to smile.
“What is it, Mister Brook?” Belle asked.
“Why, Belle…you own ten percent of the TF Ranch. I think you have just become a very wealthy woman.”
Tilden called for his houseboy.
“Yes, sir?”
“Get Clint for me, boy.”
“Yes, sir.”
The houseboy returned a few minutes later. “Sir? Mister Clint is gone.”
“Gone…where, damnit?”
“He packed up and rode out. His quarters is empty, and so is the bunkhouse. Old Ramon at the stable says all the punchers packed up and left. Following Mister Clint.”
“Get out!” Tilden said, real menace in his voice.
“Yes, sir,” the houseboy said. “I most certainly will do that, Mister Tilden.”
Thirty minutes later, the servant had packed his kit and was walking toward Fontana.
In his study, Tilden called for his houseboy. “Bring me a cup of coffee, boy!”
The big house creaked in empty silence.
“Boy!” Tilden roared. “You bring me a cup of coffee or I’ll take a whip to your lazy greaser ass!”
Silence. And Tilden Franklin, the man who would be king, knew he was alone in his large, fine home.
He walked to a large window and looked out. His thoughts were savage. “I’m gonna kill you, Jensen. I’m gonna bring Fontana to its knees first. Then I’m gonna burn your goddamn Big Rock to the ground. Then I’m gonna kill you and have your woman.”
He walked to a rack and took down his gunbelt, buckling it around his hips. He put his hat on his head and walked outside.
“Ramon?” he yelled.
“Bring me my horse. Then you find your mule and get Luis for me.”
“
8
The houseboy heard the thundering of hooves long before he saw them. He did not know what they meant, other than a lot of riders were in a big hurry. He shifted his heavy satchel to his other hand and trudged on, walking along the side of the rutted dirt road. As the thunder grew louder, he turned around, fear and panic on his face.
“Ride the insubordinate bastard down!” he heard Tilden Franklin scream, his voice just carrying over the steel- shod thunder.
The houseboy tried to run. He dropped his belongings and leaped to one side. He was too slow.
The rushing shoulder of a horse hit him in the back, tossing him to the road. Pain filled him as he heard his bones break. He looked up in time to see Tilden’s crazed face and his stallion rear up, the hooves flashing in the hard sunlight.
The houseboy screamed.
His screaming was cut off as the steel hooves came down on his face, crushing his skull. The riders galloped on, leaving the houseboy lying in the road, his blood staining and dampening the dust.
They were fifty-odd strong, drunk not with alcohol, but with the power given them by Tilden Franklin. Raw, unbridled, killing power. He was paying them good money, and offering them immunity and total impunity.
From the law. None of them was taking Smoke Jensen into consideration as any form of punishment. They should have.
One deputy saw them coming hard and ran for his horse. He hauled his ashes, leaving everything he owned behind him in Fontana. If it ever calmed down, he might be back. If not, to hell with it!
Yet another deputy, nicknamed Stonewall, saw the riders coming and ran across the street to the sheriff’s office. “Monte!” he hollered, jumping into the office and running to the shotgun rack. “Tilden and his gunhawks comin’ fast. Get ready.”
