Defiant (21 page)

“But it is not enough just to come to church. It is not enough to just say we are Christians. We have to show our faith in our thoughts and in our words and in our deeds. It is our job to love and serve and spread the Good News.” Again he stopped for dramatic emphasis. He deliberately looked down at Catherine and Mary Ann. “It is not for us to pass judgment on one another.”

The two women realized their minister was staring straight at them. They shifted uneasily in the pew and dropped their gazes as they tried to avoid making eye contact with him.

“If you feel someone is in need of help or guidance in the Lord’s ways, offer them that help and guidance. It would be wrong not to. We have been called to do God’s work here on Earth, but we have been called upon to do it lovingly. We must do His work with compassion and with tenderness, and we must always do His work for His glory, not our own.” Martin smiled as he lifted his gaze to look at the other members of the congregation, who were good-hearted and generous. “Our God is a loving, forgiving God. We should never take it upon ourselves to pass judgment on others. He alone has the right to judge us on that final day.”

“Amen!”

Martin continued, “If we have fallen astray, it’s never too late to come back into the fold. The Lord welcomes us with open arms—if we are truly sorry for our sins.”

“Praise the Lord!” Helen Slifer exclaimed.

“Exactly,” Martin affirmed her sentiment. “We must praise the Lord with our words and deeds. We must live our lives as examples of Christian love and charity. Remember that always. And I repeat”—he looked directly at the two women, his gaze piercing—“Judge not, lest ye be judged.”

He encouraged those in attendance to offer prayers for others in need. It was some time later when the service ended with a blessing, after
which the two gossips and their husbands made a quick exit.

Martin hoped his message of love and forgiveness had gotten through to them.

Only time would tell.

As Clint waited for the gang to come out of the saloon, his thoughts turned to Rachel, and he wondered what his beautiful bride was doing tonight. In a perfect world, they would have been together in a home of their own, celebrating their newfound love, but this was far from a perfect world they lived in. As he prepared to face down his family’s killers, Clint just hoped that someday they would actually have a normal life together.

It was late when Tuck, Ax, and Walt finally left the Last Chance. Clint wondered if they’d had any luck recruiting more men to ride with them on their next job.

Clint watched as the three men mounted up and began to ride out of town. Then he got on his own horse and went after them.

It wasn’t easy, tracking them in the dark. He had to be extra cautious and stay far enough back so they wouldn’t be aware that he was on their trail. Clint was thankful the night was clear and the moon was close to full.

When Clint realized the gang had made camp near a stream about half a mile ahead of him, he found a secluded place to tie up his horse some distance away. Then, taking his rifle, he made his
way on foot through the darkness to a good vantage point where he could keep watch on the camp.

Clint settled down, in tense anticipation of the day to come.

In just a few hours, he would learn the identity of the murderous leader of the deadly gang.

Chapter Twenty-one

“When is the Boss going to show up?” Walt complained as the gang bided their time at their campsite the following morning. “I was looking forward to spending the day in Dry Springs. I had a real good time with that girl Dixie last night, and I was wanting to look her up again today.”

“Dixie ain’t going nowhere,” Tuck told him. “She’ll be ready and waiting for you when you show up.”

“I like the way you think, Tuck,” Walt said with a grin as he imagined the voluptuous, redheaded saloon girl doing just that.

“What do you think the Boss will say about McCullough’s demand to meet with him before the robbery?” Ax worried.

“It’s gonna depend on how much he wants us to pull off this job. We need McCullough riding with us, so the Boss may agree to do it,” Tuck answered.

“Do you think McCullough’s as bad as his reputation says he is?” Walt asked.

“Why don’t you call him out and find out?” Ax said, chuckling at the thought.

“One of these days I may just do that,” Walt responded, imagining the glory that would be his if he could take down a fast gun like McCullough. He added quickly, “But not until after we take care of this next job.”

“Good thinking,” Tuck replied sarcastically as he looked over at the younger man. Walt had been riding with them for quite a while now. Tuck trusted him, but knew Walt had a wild streak. He hoped that wild streak didn’t end up getting the younger man into trouble.

“Since you’re looking for some action, come on,” Ax challenged, pointing at a target he’d set up. “Let’s see how good you are this morning.”

“You’re on,” Walt said, ready to hone his skills.

The two moved away to practice for a while.

Tuck stayed at the campsite to wait for the Boss to show up. He knew it might be afternoon before he actually arrived, but it didn’t matter.

He wasn’t called the Boss for nothing.

As it happened, it was just past noon when they caught sight of the Boss riding in. Tuck was relieved to see him, for they still had a lot of planning to do for the robbery.

“It’s about time you showed,” Tuck said with a grin. He watched the Boss rein in and dismount.

“Sometimes a man has to work,” he answered, looking at the three of them gathered there.

“We’re just about set to go,” Ax said.

“So McCullough’s in?” the Boss asked, looking to Tuck for confirmation.

“He said he was interested, but he wouldn’t agree to work with us until he’d met with you first.”

“What?” the Boss exploded. “How did he even find out about me?”

“When I was talking to him, telling him how we worked, I mentioned our Boss, and he called me on it. He said he only deals with the Boss and nobody else. He wouldn’t agree to ride with us until he’d talked to you.”

The Boss swore vilely at Tuck. “You’re an incompetent fool! Why didn’t you tell him you were in charge? You know I don’t want my connection to any of this revealed. That Ranger—Frank Williams—was the only one smart enough to figure it out, and that’s why we killed him. No one outside of the three of you is supposed to even know I exist!”

“I know,” Tuck replied, his tone apologetic.

“You know? That doesn’t change what happened with McCullough, does it? What did you tell him?”

“I told him I was meeting with you today, and I’d let him know your answer this afternoon.”

“Well, here’s what you tell him,” the Boss directed. “You tell him I only meet with men I trust, and he hasn’t proven himself to me yet. If he works with you and the boys to pull off the job successfully, then I’ll meet with him afterward
when everything’s calmed down—but not before.”

“What if he refuses?” Tuck asked. He liked to be prepared for the worst.

“Then you’d better have another plan figured out on how to get this payroll with just the three of you. It’s too big to let it go,” he ordered harshly. “Do you understand me?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. When are you going to talk to McCullough again?”

“He’s waiting to hear from us now. I’m supposed to contact him when we get back to town.”

“I’ll find a way to meet up with you later tonight, so you can let me know what he says.”

“I’ll be looking for you.”

In total disgust, the Boss mounted up. After giving Tuck one last cold-eyed look, he rode away and didn’t look back.

From first light, Clint had been keeping watch over the outlaws’ camp from his vantage point. When he’d first spotted the lone horseman coming, he’d grown excited. He’d known this had to be the Boss, for no one else would be meeting with the gang in this out-of-the-way location.

As the rider had closed in, Clint had been able to get a better look at him.

The man riding openly into the gang’s campsite had been none other than Sheriff Pete Reynolds.

Clint had been shocked.

Was the lawman the secret leader of the Tucker Gang?

A wide range of tumultuous emotions had rocked him. Clint’s first instinct had been to grab his rifle and shoot Pete down in cold blood. He’d wanted to see him die in the same way his family had been killed.

Clint had controlled the urge, though, and had waited to see if his suspicion might be proven wrong. He’d even hoped that the sheriff might have tracked Tuck, Ax, and Walt down for some trouble they’d caused in town after he’d parted company with them the night before. But the welcome the sheriff had received from Tuck and the others had disabused Clint of that notion.

After watching them together, he had had no doubt.

The gunmen had known who Pete was.

Pete was the Boss.

Rage unlike anything Clint had ever known had filled him. No wonder the posse had turned back after such a short time tracking the outlaws who’d tried to rob the stagecoach. It had been Pete’s gang who’d attempted the robbery. It all made sense to Clint now.

Clint had wanted to take the gang out right then and there.

He’d lifted his rifle and taken careful aim.

He’d been smiling a cold, deadly smile when he centered Pete in his sights.

He had been all set to pull the trigger.

And then the memory of Martin’s words from
the night of the wedding had come back to haunt him.
“Remember that the Lord said, ‘Vengeance is mine.’ You weren’t raised to be like the killers. You’re not a cold-blooded murderer. You’re a Texas Ranger. Arrest them and bring them to justice. Let the law punish them.”

The words
“You weren’t raised to be like the killers,”
had echoed in his mind and in his heart. He’d thought of his parents and of how his father had been working so hard to bring in the Tucker Gang. He’d recalled their last conversation: His father had told him that he’d never seen more cold blooded murderers than these men.

At this memory, Clint had realized that he wasn’t like them—he wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer—and he’d known what he had to do.

He had to bring them in.

Clint had lowered his rifle. He had continued his surveillance until their meeting had come to an end. When Pete had mounted up and ridden out of their camp, he was ready. He’d waited until Pete was far enough ahead of him, then mounted his own horse and ridden for town.

The gang would be contacting him later that day to let him know what the Boss had said about meeting with him. But before he ever heard from them, he intended to have already “met up” with the Boss.

Clint was going to take care of Pete right now.

Pete was angry with Tuck as he rode back toward Dry Springs. He’d never thought the man was
particularly smart, but he’d believed Tuck had enough sense to keep the truth about his involvement with the gang quiet. He’d been wrong. The man was an idiot.

Pete swore under his breath as he thought about what might happen next. Kane McCullough was no ordinary fast gun. From what he’d learned, the man was smart and he was deadly, and that could prove dangerous. McCullough would be an asset to the gang, but only if he cooperated and did what he was told. They needed someone who would work with them and be happy with his share of the take. Judging from what he’d heard from Tuck, the gunslinger might not be their man. One way or the other, Pete knew he would find out later that day.

Pete liked being in control of things, and his mood grew even blacker as he neared town. He was seriously considering checking out the saloons, just to pick a fight or two and stir up some trouble. He’d be able to work off some of his anger and frustration on unsuspecting drunks. The idea had merit, and he made up his mind to do just that after checking in with Nick at the sheriff’s office.

Pete reined in before the jail and dismounted. He headed inside to find that Nick was not there. In a way, Pete was glad. He wanted some time alone before he went out to make his rounds of the saloons.

Clint reached town and left his horse at the stable. Taking his rifle, with him, he started off toward the sheriff’s office. He’d had plenty of time on the ride back to plan what he was going to do. By the time this day was over, he hoped justice would be served.

As Clint neared the jail, he didn’t see anyone around. That was good. Things might turn ugly, and he didn’t want any innocents getting hurt.

He strode to the door of the sheriff’s office and walked in.

“McCullough—” Pete looked up from where he was sitting at the desk as Clint came through the door. “What are you doing here?”

Clint closed the door behind him and then turned to bring his rifle to bear on the sheriff. “I was looking for you.”

“What the—” Pete was surprised by the other man’s actions and started to reach for the gun he kept in his top desk drawer for moments like this.

“Don’t even think about it,” Clint ordered in a deadly tone, knowing exactly what Pete was trying to do.

“All right.” Pete went still and remained unmoving, trying to figure out what was going on. If McCullough planned to join up with Tuck and the others, it made no sense to cause trouble in town like this. And if he was going to cause trouble in town, why would he go after the sheriff? Why hadn’t he robbed the bank or one of the stagecoaches that had been passing through?

“Get up and move away from the desk. Keep
your hands where I can see them.” Clint shifted his position to keep his back to the wall as he kept the rifle trained on the Boss. He didn’t want anybody coming into the office behind him.

“What’s this all about?” Pete demanded as he got to his feet and did as the gunman had directed.

“You can ask Tuck and Ax when you see them again. They can tell you.”

“Who are Tuck and Ax?” Pete asked, playing dumb.

“I was at the campsite this morning. I saw everything. I know who you are, and I know what you do.”

“Tuck is one dumb son of a bitch,” Pete swore as he realized how Tuck’s stupid remarks the night before had given everything away. McCullough had just proven he was every bit as smart as his reputation had claimed he was. Pete relaxed and grinned at the other man, believing he was just there trying to impress him with how clever he was. “I hadn’t planned to meet with you ahead of time, but I’d say it looks like I don’t have much choice, doesn’t it?”