gettin’ to Shade than you fellas would.”
“Only they want to string him up, not bust him out of jail.”
Tom nodded. “Yeah. That’s exactly what they want.”
Something stirred inside Garth’s brain, and it was a moment before he recognized it for what it really was—an idea. “Maybe we ought to let this Hightower hombre do the work for us,” he said slowly.
“What you talkin’ about, Garth?” Gonzalez demanded. “We can’t let no lynch mob have the rev’rend?”
“We can let them do the bustin’ him out of jail, though,” Garth said. “Then, before they have a chance to lynch him, we swoop in and snatch him away from ’em. Nobody’ll be expectin’ us to strike right then.”
“That might actually work,” Jeffries said with a tone of grudging admiration in his voice.
“Once it’s dark, we could make our way along the bed of the river that loops around the town,” Garth went on as more details formed in his mind. “That way, we can get close enough to keep an eye on what’s goin’ on without anybody spottin’ us.”
He looked around as if waiting for someone to argue with him or point out the flaws in his plan, but Jeffries, Gonzalez, and the other three outlaws remained silent.
“All right then,” Garth said with a nod. “That’s what we’ll do. We’d best get on back to the rest of the boys and let them know the plan.”
Jeffries waved a hand at Tom. “What about the sodbuster here? We can’t let him ride into town and warn everybody about what we’re going to do.”
“No, o’ course not.”
Fear leaped up in Tom’s chest as the burly outlaw reached for his gun. He knew now that he had been a fool to trust these men, to believe that they would honor their word to leave him and his family alone if he helped them. He lunged toward Jeffries and reached out in a desperate attempt to snatch the man’s gun from its holster.
Tom had barely moved when he felt what seemed like a punch in his back. Cold fire speared into his body. He staggered forward, reaching awkwardly behind him as he did so. His fingers brushed the hilt of the knife that protruded from his back. Gonzalez must have thrown it, he thought as he fell to his knees and then pitched forward on his face as the rest of his strength deserted him.
“Good idea, Gonzalez,” Garth said as Tom struggled to hang on to consciousness. “We’ll use knives on ’em. Quieter that way.”
Frannie and the kids were screaming, but the sounds were far away and fading now in Tom’s ears. The pounding roar of his own pulse rose until that was all he could hear.
Then it stopped. He heard that, too, as he died, but that was all. He missed all the terrible sounds of what happened to his family after that, and the swift rata-plan of hoofbeats that came through the open door as the killers rode away afterward.
Once those hoofbeats had dwindled away to nothing, the ranch was quiet again…quiet with the eerie hush of death.
Chapter 13
Shade hadn’t eaten the breakfast that Flagg had brought him that morning, nor had he touched the food on the tray the sheriff carried into the cell at midday. Both times, Matt and Sam had stood just outside the cell door with rifles trained on the prisoner as Flagg took the food inside.
When it came time for supper, Flagg said, “Damned if I’m gonna waste more o’ the town’s money on feedin’ that vicious son of a bitch when he don’t eat none of what I bring him.”
“There’s food in there if he wants it bad enough,” Matt pointed out.
“I’ll stay here for a while. Why don’t you boys go get you something to eat? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind bein’ out o’ this place for a while.”
The blood brothers looked at each other. Matt shrugged and said, “Might as well. We can get back here in a hurry if there’s any trouble.”
“That’s right,” Flagg agreed. “If you hear a scattergun go off, though, I’d be obliged if you’d come a- runnin’.”
“I could use a cold beer, too,” Matt said as they left the jail. He grinned. “And I’ll bet that girl Amelia at the Ten Grand would be mighty pleased to see you again, Sam.”
“I think we should just get the beer and then something to eat,” Sam said.
“Whatever you say,” Matt replied with a chuckle.
Archie Cochran was behind the bar again when they entered the Ten Grand this evening. He lifted a hand in greeting and started drawing two beers without being asked as Matt and Sam headed for the bar.
As he set the foaming mugs in front of them, Archie said, “On the house, boys. After what you did last night, I’m not sure your money’s good in here anymore.”
“Is that your decision to make?” Sam asked.
Archie laughed. “I own the place, so it damned well better be!”
Matt took a long swallow and sighed with satisfaction as he lowered the mug to the bar. “We’re much obliged,” he said.
“Nothin’s too good for the men who captured Joshua Shade.” A worried frown briefly crossed the bartender’s face. “Of course, some folks in town aren’t so happy with you boys. They figure Shade would be rottin’ on the end of a rope by now if it wasn’t for you backin’ up Sheriff Flagg.”
