Defiant (4 page)

“Hold it, Sanders,” Clint ground out. He had him dead in his sights.

The outlaw was smart enough to know he had no chance. He looked up at the gunman who stood over him and knew he was facing death. He made no further effort to get out of bed.

“Who are you?” John Sanders asked, quaking visibly. There was something strangely familiar about this gunman, but he couldn’t place him.

“My name’s McCullough. Kane McCullough.”

“What do you want?”

“I want answers,” Clint ground out coldly.

“What kind of answers?”

“Where’s the rest of your gang?”

“What gang?” Sanders hedged. “I don’t know anything about any gang.”

“Oh, I think you know plenty,” Clint threatened, and he took a step closer to intimidate the man. “Like who’s really behind the Tucker Gang, and where the rest of them have been hiding out since the attack on the Williams ranch.”

The outlaw was suddenly filled with pure terror as he realized whom he was facing. “Your name’s not McCullough! You’re Frank Williams’s son!”

“That’s right.”

“We thought you were dead!” Sanders couldn’t believe this man had survived. They’d shot him at least twice that night.

“You thought wrong.” Clint gave him a cold smile. “Now start talking.”

“No! They’ll kill me if I talk!”

“And I’ll kill you if you don’t.” Clint cocked his gun.

Sanders swallowed nervously.

“Who’s the boss? Who runs the gang?”

From the look in his eyes, Sanders didn’t doubt for a minute that Williams would do exactly what he said he would do. “I don’t know who the boss is.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Clint had no time to listen to lies. He took a threatening step toward the outlaw.

“I haven’t been riding with them that long. I’ve never seen the boss or talked to him!” Sanders said, panicked. “He sends the orders about when and where we should make our moves, and then Tuck and Ax make sure we do it.”

Clint heard hurried footsteps coming down the hall. He shifted his position so his back was to the wall just as the clerk appeared in the doorway.

“What’s going on here?” the clerk demanded, then stopped when he saw that the stranger was standing there with his gun aimed at the hotel guest.

“Go take care of the front desk,” Clint ordered
in a deadly tone that unnerved the clerk even more.

“But you can’t—”

“I can, and I just did,” Clint answered. “Get out of here—now! This is private.”

The clerk realized there was nothing he could do, so he turned tail and ran. He had to get the sheriff.

“Where are Tuck and Ax?”

“Last I heard, they were heading to Dry Springs.”

“Why Dry Springs?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sanders—” Clint took a threatening step forward.

“I tell you, I don’t know!” He cowered before Clint. “I was supposed to meet up with them at the Last Chance Saloon there sometime after the first of the month.”

“Looks like you’re going to miss your meeting,” Clint told him coldly.

“
No!
” Sanders stared down the barrel of Clint’s gun, believing he was about to shoot.

“Get up,” Clint directed, gesturing with the gun for him to get out of bed. “We’re going to take a little walk.”

Sanders didn’t hesitate. He jumped out of the bed and made a grab for his pants.

“No,” Clint ordered. “I like you dressed just the way you are. Let’s go. I’m sure the clerk’s had time to go after the sheriff by now, so start moving.”

Sanders got up and stumbled through the door and out into the hallway half naked. Clint followed, keeping his gun trained on him. He didn’t trust the gunman and thought he might try to make a break for it.

They had just started down the steps when the clerk rushed in, followed by the sheriff.

Sanders stopped and looked around, hoping for a chance to escape.

“What’s going on?” the lawman demanded, drawing his gun as he kept a careful watch on the two men on the stairs.

“This is John Sanders. He’s one of the Tucker Gang.” Clint nudged the outlaw in the back with his gun to get him to move down the steps.

The sheriff was surprised by the news. He’d heard of the savage Tucker Gang. “You sure about that?”

“I’m sure,” Clint answered.

Sanders knew he had no choice. If this sheriff took him to jail, he’d hang. He had to try to get away.

“You’re under arrest—” the lawman began.

“Like hell I am!” Sanders shouted.

Sanders knocked the clerk down and launched himself at the sheriff. His surprise attack caught the lawman off guard. Sanders managed to grab the sheriff’s gun from him, and he spun around ready to take aim at Clint.

But Clint had been expecting trouble and was ready when the gunman made his move. As
Sanders turned and got off a shot, Clint fired. Clint watched emotionlessly as the killer collapsed to the floor, dead.

Shaken, the sheriff and the clerk got to their feet. The sheriff hurried to get his handgun back from the dead outlaw.

“Thanks.” He looked up at the stranger still standing on the staircase, his gun in hand.

Clint nodded and holstered his own sidearm.

The lawman eyed him uneasily. The stranger had been so fast with a gun, the sheriff wondered if he was a wanted man, too. “How did you know about Sanders?”

“I have my ways,” Clint answered cryptically.

“What’s your connection to all this?”

“Let’s just say I want to see justice done.” Clint continued down the steps. After one last look at Sanders lying dead on the floor, he walked out of the hotel and never looked back.

Clint knew where he was headed next.

Tuck and Ax were holed up near Dry Springs.

He was on his way.

It took the sheriff a moment before he realized he hadn’t learned the stranger’s name, and he found himself wondering about him. The man hadn’t even stayed around to find out if there was a reward posted for Sanders. He’d just disappeared. The sheriff shrugged. The good news was, the town was now a safer place. A killer was off the streets.

Clint stopped back at the saloon. He wanted to buy Lily another drink before he rode out.

“Thanks for your help,” he told her as they stood at the bar together. “Sanders won’t be bothering anybody anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Let’s just say the sheriff has him.” He knew the news of what had happened would reach her soon.

“Thank you.” The bar girl smiled up at him with genuine delight. “Are you sure you won’t stick around for a while and have some fun with us?”

“I appreciate your offer, but I’ve got to move on.” Clint tipped his hat to her and walked out of the saloon.

“You be careful,” she called out to him, sighing as she watched him go.

Chapter Four

Dry Springs

Dressed in his dark suit and tie and holding his Bible, Reverend Martin Hammond stood on the front steps of God’s Grace Christian Church, looking out over the crowd of almost twenty people gathered before him. They had just completed their evening prayer service and were ready to put their faith into action.

“Are you strong enough to join me tonight? Are you ready to save souls?”

“Yes!” they shouted in reply.

“Then let’s go spread the Lord’s word!”

Carrying his Bible, Reverend Hammond led the way toward the bad part of town—toward the place where sin ran rampant, where liquor flowed freely, where women sold themselves for money and men wagered their very souls.

Rachel Hammond, the reverend’s nineteen-year-old daughter, was nervous. She stayed close
by her mother’s side as they joined the others following her father through the darkened streets. Ever since her father had found himself struck by the desire to gamble, he’d been praying for salvation and working hard to save others from what he believed was the devil’s own temptation.

“Are you sure we should be doing this again?” Rachel asked her mother a little nervously. “The sheriff wasn’t very happy with us the last time.”

“Your father believes he’s been called to do this, so we have to support him. We’re not alone, you know. Look at all the folks who are with us. It will be fine.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Rachel thought about the first time they’d gone crusading several weeks earlier when her father had led them into the Gold Rush Saloon. It was a small establishment, and they’d been able to disrupt business for quite a while before Sheriff Reynolds had shown up and forced them to leave.

Tonight, however, her father had decided to go to the Last Chance, the most decadent saloon in the town. Raucous music was blaring from inside, and she could hear the sounds of drunken laughter and women shrieking.

“What’s going on in there?” she whispered to her mother when she heard the women’s shouts.

“It’s best you don’t know, darling,” Anne Hammond answered as she prepared to follow her husband into the den of iniquity.

Reverend Hammond faced his followers as he
stopped them in front of the saloon for a moment. He led them in a short prayer, then said, “Let us bring the Lord’s word to those who have fallen by the wayside.”

“Amen!” the crowd responded.

The preacher turned and fearlessly mounted the steps, then threw wide the swinging doors to the Last Chance Saloon to lead the way inside.

Clint had arrived in Dry Springs earlier that afternoon; taken his time looking over the town, then rented a room at the only hotel. After settling in, he’d made his way to the Last Chance Saloon. According to what Sanders had told him, this was to be the meeting place, so he was going to sit tight and keep a sharp lookout for Tuck and Ax. He’d had a drink at the bar, then joined in a poker game. He was going to be here for at least a few days, so he needed to get the feel of the place.

“How many?” Ed, the dealer, asked him.

Clint looked down at his cards. It wasn’t a pretty hand, but he wasn’t ready to fold just yet. He threw down the two worst and answered, “Give me two.”

Ed dealt him two cards and went on to the next player.

Clint picked up the new cards and stared down at the lowly pair of fours. He knew he wasn’t going to win any big pots with luck like that tonight. He was about to throw his hand down when a loud disturbance coming from the front of the saloon interrupted the game.

“Praise the Lord! Repent while there’s time!”

Clint heard the shout and glanced up to see the saloon being invaded by what looked like a Bible-toting minister and his entire congregation—ladies included. The people who’d been standing at the bar scattered as the minister approached.

“Get out of here, preacher man!” Trey, the bartender, ordered angrily. He’d heard what Reverend Hammond had done at the other saloon a few weeks ago, and he didn’t want the same kind of trouble here. Business was good and he wanted to keep it that way.

“I can’t walk away, knowing these poor souls may be condemned to eternal fire! I must work to save their souls. I must do all I can to protect them from the calling of the devil!”

“The only devil in here is you!” Trey countered.

The church people gasped at his cruel words.

“But we’ve come to help you . . . to save you!” one of the ladies insisted.

“If we wanted to be saved, we’d be in church. Now get out of here or I’ll send for Sheriff Reynolds!”

“In good conscience, I can’t leave any of you this way.” Reverend Hammond looked around at the crowd in the smoke-filled room and gestured at them. “Give up your vices and turn to God’s love,” he extolled them.

The ladies who’d come with him broke into song, a longtime favorite hymn.

Trey signaled the piano player to start playing another tune, to drown them out. The man
looked decidedly uncomfortable at this order, but did as he was directed. Trey was his boss. He began banging out a loud song.

Reverend Hammond was not about to be deterred. He joined his followers in singing as he strode through the room, looking at the lost souls and praying for their redemption. The rest of the church folk branched out and encircled all the tables where the gambling was taking place.

Clint looked over at the other men at his table. He’d expected trouble in Dry Springs, but not this kind of trouble. “Do you always have this kind of excitement here in town?”

“No. Somebody should do something about that crazy old man,” Ed snarled. “He went into the Gold Rush not too long ago and got everybody stirred up.”

“And look at all the women he brought with him! They shouldn’t be in a place like this,” another man at their table added in outrage. “Some of them are grandmothers!”

“Yeah, but not that one.” Ed grinned and nodded toward the pretty, dark-haired young woman in the sedate gown. Though she was the complete opposite in character and morals of the women who worked in the saloon, he thought she was more sexy than they were. “That one’s the preacher’s daughter. She’s a real looker.”

Clint looked up at Ed’s comment and caught sight of the young woman for the first time. He immediately understood Ed’s sentiments.

“Yes, she is,” he agreed.

The preacher’s daughter was pretty, there was no question about that. Tall and slender, she moved with elegance through the chaos her father had created. For some reason, the thought that she was pure and innocent troubled Clint, and he was angry that her father had subjected her to this seamy side of life. Women like her were meant to be protected and cherished.

Clint frowned at the thought. He told himself to mind his own business. He had come to the Last Chance for one reason and one reason only, and it had nothing to do with any preacher’s daughter. He looked away from the graceful beauty.

When the invaders broke into “Amazing Grace,” Trey had had enough. He came out from behind the bar to confront Reverend Hammond.

“I want you out of here, preacher man!” he ordered, angry that his business was being disrupted.

“I have to save souls,” Reverend Hammond announced calmly, looking him confidently in the eye.

“You’re not saving any souls in my saloon! Take your followers and get out—now!”

“No, we must pray for your salvation.” He opened his Bible, ready to quote Scripture.