Defiant (20 page)

“I know you have to go after the Tucker Gang,” Rachel whispered, “but hurry back to me. I’ll be waiting for you—and praying for you.”

She rose up on tiptoe to kiss him one last time, then moved to unlock the door. She opened it and peeked out into the hall. It was deserted, as she’d hoped it would be.

Rachel looked back at Clint one last time, and their gazes met across the room. Tearing herself away, she stepped out into the hall and closed the door silently behind her. She moved quickly and quietly from the hotel out into the alleyway. It took her only a few minutes to reach her home, and she crept inside without waking her parents.

Rachel quickly changed into her nightgown and lay in bed in her room. She longed to be back with Clint, in his arms, loving him, but it wasn’t to be. Her heart ached as she thought of how long it might be before they could be together again.

Raising up her hand, she stared at the wedding ring she wore and knew she would have to take it off before she went out in public the next day. No one could know of her marriage yet, so she would wear the ring on the chain of her necklace. That way, it would at least be close to her heart until the time came when she and Clint could openly proclaim their love for one another.

Silently Rachel offered up a prayer that Clint would find the outlaws quickly and return to her, safe and sound. She wanted nothing more than to be in his arms forever.

When Rachel had gone, Clint returned to his lonely bed. He knew the night he’d just spent in her embrace had been a gift he would treasure always. He deeply regretted that their marriage must remain a secret for the time being, but there was no way he could change what he had to do.

It was the first week of the month. With any luck, the Tucker Gang would be showing up any day, and he had to be ready for them.

He didn’t want to even consider the possibility that the gang might not show up. In that case, he would be forced to ride out and start tracking them down again. He would do it if he had to. Nothing was going to stop him from finding them.

It was time for justice.

Chapter Twenty

It was just getting dark when Clint left the hotel and headed for the Last Chance late the following day. He was passing by some horses tied up in front of the saloon when he stopped. There at the hitching rail was a roan with a starlike marking on its chest—matching Rachel’s description of a horse one of the outlaws had been riding.

Clint looked over the horses in hopes of finding some other identifying features, but there was nothing. Ready to play out the role of Kane McCullough, he entered the saloon through the swinging doors and strode up to the bar.

“Where you been all day, McCullough? It’s been awful quiet around here,” Trey told him as Clint approached.

“I had some work to take care of,” Clint answered without revealing any details. “But I’m here now. You think things will perk up?”

“I never know when you’re around,” Trey chuckled.

“I’m just ready to enjoy myself tonight—a little gambling and a little drinking. Give me a whiskey.”

“Coming right up.” Trey made short order of serving the liquor.

Clint paid him and turned to look around the saloon as he took a drink. It was more crowded than usual, and several poker games were going on in the back of the room. “Ed hasn’t shown up tonight?”

“He ain’t been back since your fight. I got a hunch he ain’t feeling too good after the beating you gave him.”

Clint shrugged. “A man ought to be smart enough to think before he speaks.”

“Maybe you taught him that lesson.”

“I suppose we might find out one of these days.” Gesturing toward the tables in back, he said, “Looks like you’ve got some good poker games going tonight.”

“Some new boys rode into town this afternoon. They’ve been spending real free and easy, so we’re glad they’re here.”

“I think I’ll go see what kind of stakes they’re playing for,” Clint said.

“Here—have a refill before you go,” Trey offered, holding out the bottle to him.

“Thanks.” Clint was obliged. His glass full, he walked to the back of the saloon.

Clint was careful to keep his manner relaxed as he approached the table, but it wasn’t easy. He
wasn’t sure what he was going to discover, but he knew he had to be prepared for anything.

Even so, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut when he found himself face to face with the men who’d killed his family.

There at one of the poker tables sat Glen Tucker and Ax Hansen. The sketches on the wanted posters had been crude, but they’d done the two men justice. He recognized the cold-blooded killers immediately.

Rage unlike anything he’d ever experienced seared Clint’s soul. He felt a burning desire to draw his gun and put an end to their miserable, rotten, no-good lives right then and there.

He wanted to do it.

He could have done it.

It was only by the sheer force of his willpower that he was able to maintain his self-control. Ultimately, the killers would pay for what they’d done, but not until he’d identified the real leader of their murderous gang.

“Got room for one more?” Clint asked casually as he came to stand near the table.

Tuck looked up at him, wondering how deep the man’s pockets were. “It’ll cost you.”

“Good,” Clint said, giving him a smile as he pulled out a chair to sit down at the table. “That means when I win, I’ll be taking a lot of your money.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tuck said, looking over at the man who was dealing. “Let’s play.”

The dealer shuffled the deck and began to deal the hand.

Tuck sat back, eyeing the new man with interest. He had spotted him the minute he’d come into the saloon. He could tell he was a force to be reckoned with. The way he carried himself and wore his gun all said “gunman,” and Tuck wondered if this could be Kane McCullough, the gunfighter the Boss had been talking about. He was going to find out as fast as he could because they still had some planning to do before they could pull off their next job.

Kane felt good about the pair of aces he was holding and hoped it was a sign of things to come.

It was.

He won the hand and raked in a lucrative pot.

Tuck and Ax weren’t happy about losing, but they sat tight.

A saloon girl named Suzie came to the table to see if anyone needed another drink.

After the other men had told her what they wanted, she looked at Kane. “What about you, Kane? Are you ready?”

“I’m fine,” he declared, not wanting to risk drinking too much while he was with these men. He had to stay sharp and be ready, because anything could happen at any time with the Tucker Gang.

At the sound of Kane’s name, Tuck and Ax exchanged knowing looks. They had their man. At the first opportunity, they would have to get McCullough
outside and make him an offer they hoped he wouldn’t refuse.

“You boys are new in town, aren’t you?” Clint asked, making conversation as they continued to play.

“We just rode in tonight.” Tuck looked at him shrewdly and asked, “You’re Kane McCullough, aren’t you?”

“That’s right.” Clint purposely eyed Tuck with suspicion. All the while, though, he was silently offering up thanks that Captain Meyers had done such a good job in getting the word out about his bad reputation. Things just might work out the way he’d planned.

“What brings you to Dry Springs?” Ax asked.

“I heard it was a nice, quiet little town.”

“From what I’ve heard about you, I wouldn’t think you liked nice, quiet little towns,” Tuck remarked.

Clint shrugged and looked him straight in the eye. “You never know who you might meet.”

“You’re right about that,” Tuck agreed, throwing in his hand. “I’m out.”

Clint dropped out, too, even though he had two pair. He wanted the chance to talk more with Tuck. “So, what about you? What are you doing here in Dry Springs?”

“Me and the boys—” He gestured toward Ax at their table and toward another man sitting at a secluded table being entertained by one of the saloon girls. “We got a new job coming up—a big one.”

“What kind of work do you do?” Clint glanced toward the other man and assumed he was the outlaw named Walt, who’d been riding with the gang from the start.

“The kind that pays the best,” Tuck answered elusively.

They shared a look of understanding.

“We need another hand for this new job, so—if you’re interested . . .”

“I might be.” Clint was deliberately evasive.

“Well, then, why don’t we step outside for a few minutes and talk about it?” Tuck asked.

“Sure.”

Tuck told the dealer to save their seats, then walked out of the Last Chance with Clint. They moved away from the main doors to stand near the alleyway for more privacy.

It was fully dark outside now, and Clint was glad. He liked being under the cover of darkness when dealing with Tuck’s kind.

“What plans have you got for the near future, McCullough?” Tuck asked point-blank once he was sure they were alone.

“I was just planning on playing poker and winning all your money,” Clint answered with a smile. “Why?”

Tuck wasn’t amused. “I thought you might be interested in trying another kind of gambling—that is, if you’re as good with a gun as your reputation says you are.”

Clint looked him straight in the eye as he answered, “What do you think?”

“Good.” Tuck smiled coldly at him, respecting his arrogance and his reputed ability.

“What’ve you got in mind?”

“The Boss says there’s a shipment—”

“Wait a minute,” Clint interrupted him. “What do you mean, ‘the Boss says’? You mean you aren’t running things?”

“No. The Boss calls the shots. He has from the very beginning when we first started riding together. We just do what he tells us to do.”

“I don’t work that way. Before I agree to be a part of anything, I have to meet with your boss face to face. I only deal with the top men.”

Tuck was insulted by this refusal. “I already told you how things are with us.”

“Then it looks like you’re going to be shorthanded on your next job.”

“Don’t be a fool, McCullough.”

Clint stiffened at his insult. “I’m no fool, friend. I’m just careful.”

“There’s a lot of money to be made if you ride with us on this job. It’s a big one,” Tuck insisted.

“Good. Talk to your boss and tell him I want to meet him or there’s no deal. You can send word to me at the hotel and let me know when he wants to get together.”

Tuck was furious over McCullough’s arrogant demands. He wondered who in hell this gunman thought he was. Unfortunately, he knew the gang would be shorthanded without him, and that could make things real tough.

“I’m due to hook up with the Boss again tomorrow.
I’ll talk to him then and let you know what he says about meeting with you.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Clint said no more before walking off.

Tuck felt irritated as he watched him go. His mood was black when he rejoined Ax at the poker table.

“Where’s McCullough?” Ax asked.

“I guess he’s calling it a night.”

Ax could tell by Tuck’s terse tone that something wasn’t right, but he didn’t say anything at that moment. He would find out what had happened later, when no one else was around to listen in.

“Too bad he quit playing poker,” Ax said, going along with Tuck. “I was hoping to win my money back.”

“We’ll be seeing him again, don’t worry.”

Ax thought that was good news. With the extra gun, they would definitely be able to take the payroll.

Satisfied for the time being, they went back to the serious pursuits of gambling and drinking.

Clint knew what he had to do. He got his horse and hid in one of the nearby alleys to wait for Tuck and the other gang members to leave the Last Chance. He planned to follow them when they headed out to their camp so he could keep Tuck under surveillance overnight. He planned to be watching when Tuck met with his boss the following day.

The news that the big boss was actually there in the area left Clint excited and on edge. Right now, he was closer than he’d ever been to bringing the gang down.

Tomorrow just might prove to be the day of final reckoning, and he was ready.

He’d been ready for a long time.

It was the night of the regular weekly prayer service. As Reverend Hammond made his way to the front of the church, he looked out over those who had gathered there. It was a good-sized crowd for the middle of the week, and he was glad. He wanted as many townsfolk as possible to hear what he had to say that night.

Martin’s gaze fell upon Catherine Lawrence and Mary Ann Forester sitting near the front with their husbands, and he was hard put to control his temper. He reminded himself that he was a man of God, but that didn’t stop him from having the normal feelings any father would have when bad rumors were being maliciously spread about his daughter.

Martin happened to still be looking their way when Anne and Rachel came into the church and sat down, and he noticed the almost smug look the two gossips gave each other when they his wife and daughter. He silently offered up a prayer that the two gossips would listen and understand the message he was about to deliver.

“Good evening, everyone,” he welcomed them as he went to stand at the pulpit.

“Good evening, Reverend,” they responded.

“It’s wonderful to see all of you, and I thank you for coming. I’ve always believed it was an honor bestowed upon me to bring God’s word to you. I believe I am blessed for having been given this calling,” Martin began.

“We’re blessed to have you, Reverend Hammond,” one man called out from the back of church.

“That we are,” another added.

Martin was humbled by their kind words. “Jesus told us to ‘love one another as I have loved you.’ The love we show to one another is truly a manifestation of our love for Christ. How we treat one another is how we live our religion.” Martin paused for effect and looked out over the congregation. “Each and every one of us should remember that. It is important, if we are truly to call ourselves Christians, that we practice what we preach.”

“Amen,” another man said, affirming his words.