have known for years. I don’t want them harmed.” Calista blinked, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “Promise me, Lucius. Promise me you won’t lift a finger against them.”
“I give you my word.”
“Thank you.” Calista smiled. She tried to lift her other hand but lacked the strength. “You see? There is hope for you. Change your life around before it’s too late. Will you do that for me?”
“You ask an awful lot,” I said.
“You’re not bad clear through, Lucius. There is a spark of good in you. You have proven that by staying with me.”
I had another reason, but I kept it to myself. “Are you sure you don’t want some water?”
“No, Lucius. But you are a dear.” Calista closed her eyes. “I feel so tired. There’s no pain, though. None whatsoever. Isn’t that odd?”
“I’m glad there isn’t.” I tried to see out the window, but the angle was wrong. Someone was hollering for rifles to be passed out. Another man was arguing that they should rush me.
I barely heard Calista when she whispered, “I always figured to die in bed of old age. I never reckoned on anything like this.”
“It’s not always up to us.” No one appreciated that fact more than me. “But I imagine that I won’t die in bed, either.”
Calista opened her eyes. “Will you do me another favor, Lucius? I hate to ask, but no one else is handy.”
Now someone was shouting for a ladder to be brought so they could climb to the second-floor window.
“What sort of favor?”
“I have a sister in St. Louis. Get word to her for me. You’ll find her address in the bundle of letters in the top drawer of my dresser. I never made out a will. I didn’t see the need. But I want everything I own to go to her. My parents are dead and I don’t have anyone else.”
“I’ll get word to her,” I lied.
“You’re sweet, Lucius Stark. You behave all mean and gruff, but deep down you are a lamb. That is why I am confident you can change. Give up killing and find something worthwhile to do with your life.”
The window suddenly shattered in a shower of glass. A rock had been thrown through it.
“Mr. Stark? Can you hear me in there? This is Tom Fielding. I own the general store. Miss Modine is a friend of mine. Is she all right? Is she alive?”
Before I could answer, the door shook to another blow. “Stark! My pard just died! You have one last chance to send Miss Modine out and give yourself up.”
There I was, caught between the townsmen in the street and Texas Ranger Deeter Smith in the hall. I had been in some tight situations before but never one where the cards were so stacked against me.
“Lucius?” Calista breathed.
“I’m still here.”
“I can’t see you. Everything has gone black.” The tip of her tongue traced her lips. “I’m scared, Lucius. Hold me, will you? Please.”
Heedless of the blood on her robe, I hugged her. She was as cold as ice. It would not be long.
Something thumped against the front of the house below her window. I did not need to look out to know what it was.
Again the door shook, and Deeter Smith growled, “You have one minute. Then I’m coming in whether you send her out or not!”
Calista trembled, and uttered a tiny, “Oh!” She arched her body, let out a long breath, and was gone.
I rose and drew the Remington. The good citizens of Whiskey Flats thought they had a curly wolf trapped. They were about to learn that cornering a lobo did not come without a cost.
Chapter 24
I looped my left arm around Calista’s waist and hoisted her body off the bed. She flopped like a limp sack and I steadied her as I moved to the door. “I’m coming out,” I shouted to the Ranger. “I have the woman with me. If you or anyone else tries to stop me, she dies.”
Silently counting to ten, I jerked the door open. I was careful to stand to one side, but no shots boomed.
Deeter Smith was halfway down the hall, backing away, his empty hands out from his sides. “I don’t want the lady hurt. Don’t start throwing lead.”
I moved toward the stairs without waiting for him to reach the other end. It proved a mistake. I had taken only a couple of steps when Calista slumped forward and sagged like a puppet with its strings cut.
The Texas Ranger abruptly stopped. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I had to slug her.” I hoped he would accept the lie. Otherwise, things were bound to become mighty violent mighty quick.
Dee’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that on her robe and on your clothes?” He raised his voice. “Miss Modine? Can you hear me?”
“Can’t you see she’s out cold?” I said. The stairs were only twenty feet away. I walked faster.
“Unconscious, or dead.” Smith had made up his mind which. “You miserable scum!” he barked, and stabbed for his Colt.
It was brave, but it was reckless. I already had the Remington in my hand. I fired before he cleared leather, not once but twice. He staggered against the wall and collapsed.
I was a fine one to brand him reckless. I had just added another Texas Ranger to my tally. From now on, the Rangers wouldn’t rest until they stood over my grave and clapped one another on the back.
But that was a worry for another time. Right now I had to make it to the ground floor and out the back to the horses. I took another step, when up the stairs charged half a dozen townsmen, all armed. The foremost spotted me and let out an excited bellow.
“There he is!”
“Don’t shoot! He has Calista with him!”
I pointed the Remington at them. “Back down the stairs! Pronto! Or you’ll be burying your friend here before the day is out!” They started down and I took another step—and stumbled. I had tripped over the hem of Calista’s robe. I caught myself and stayed on my feet, but Calista nearly slipped out of my grasp and her hair fell from her face.
“Look!” the townsman exclaimed. “There’s blood on her clothes!”
“I don’t think she’s alive!” cried another.
“Kill him! Shoot the vermin!” urged a third.
Howling with outrage, they barreled up the stairs, firing as they came. I hurled Calista at them and snapped off two shots, then spun and ran to her room, slamming the door behind me. Slugs ripped into the wood as I angled toward the window.
They would take a few minutes to regroup. I swiftly reloaded, and as I was inserting the last cartridge, a face appeared at the pane. It was Tom Fielding, the owner of the general store. He opened his mouth to shout something, and I sent a slug through the center of it.
Seizing the chair, I whipped around and threw it. The glass exploded outward. The chair must have struck someone lower on the ladder because there was a shrill squawk.
I ran to the window. No one was on the ladder, but there had to be twenty or more incensed citizens clustered about Fielding and another man at the bottom. In the few seconds their attention was diverted, I reached down, wrapped my left hand around the top rung, and shoved.
The ladder crashed to earth among them, knocking several over. The confusion and panic that resulted gained me the moments I needed to hook my right leg over the sill, then my left, and lean out. I was two stories up, but there were plenty of cushions below. I pushed off and dropped.
“Look out!” a woman screeched.
I slammed into the back of a portly man in a nightshirt. It was like falling into a vat of dough. My left knee hit bone and my leg spiked with pain, but otherwise I was unhurt and on my feet before those around me realized what
