“Hello, Reno.”
“Get the hell out here, you spineless coward.”
“Reno, come on into the office, and let’s talk this over.”
“Hell, no, Hargraves. You ain’t about to weasel outta this. We’ve done all the talkin’ we’re gonna do. You and that sanctimonious badge of yours made it clear that I ain’t welcome in your town, and I don’t take kindly to that. You, like so many others, are in my way, and I’m tired of it, so get ready to draw. I’ve come for your hide.”
“Have it your own way,” the sheriff said as he hesitantly stepped off the stoop and onto the street.
While the two of them sized each other up, the wind kicked up, blowing a wall of grit across the dusty street. Dark clouds formed overhead, thunder rumbled, and a cawing bird flew overhead, sending out messages of doom. While gloom settled over the little town, each man waited for the other to draw. Finally, Reno, lightning-fast went for his gun, but something went wrong and he couldn’t get it out of his holster. He struggled until it finally slipped out. Trying to make up for lost time, he shot toward the sheriff, but his shot wasn’t aimed well, and he shot wild. Just then another shot rang out, its bursting fire coming from the sheriff’s gun. In only seconds, Reno dropped his gun, grabbed his chest, and fell to the ground.
A woman’s scream came bursting out of the crowd.
It was Easy.
Slowly, everyone began spilling out of the surrounding buildings and crowding around him. They were afraid to ask—was he dead, or just wounded? The town doctor rushed over to Reno’s body and began examining him. After several minutes, he lifted his gloomy face, looked at the sheriff, and gave a quick shake of his head.
It was the end of an era.
Reno Hudson was dead.
* * * *
The next day, Easy, along with the sheriff, and a crowd of people gathered on Boot Hill at the graveside of Reno Hudson. In the distance were three darkly-clad cowboys, still mounted on their horses, looking on from beneath a tree. The moment was solemn, the sky still cloudy, the rumble of thunder still sending a threat from the sky. Reno had no friends in this town, so many of the townspeople came just out of curiosity.
“From dust we came, to dust we shall return…he who lives by the sword shall die by the sword…” The parson’s words were solemn, and rang in her ears.
Once he was finished, the gravediggers began filling up the grave, and the people slowly wandered away—all but Easy and Reno’s gang who still waited on horseback. She stood very still, the whipping wind singing a funeral dirge that tore at Easy’s heart. Again, she read the words inscribed on the gravestone that were placed at the head of the grave—
Here lies
Reno Hudson
The terror of the West
Born September 9, 1837
Died November 2, 1869
* * * *
Easy’s ranch hands finally returned, and life had gotten back to being pretty much like it was before Reno and his gang had invaded it. She was doing some cleaning when a knock sounded at the door. Putting down her broom, she answered it.
“Hello, Sheriff Hargraves, what brings you out to the Lazy M?”
“Just checking to see if everything’s okay. Is Roby in?”
After grabbing his hat, a man appeared at Easy’s side. “Right here, Sheriff.”
“I just wanted to check and see if everything was okay.”
“Couldn’t be better.”
“Looks like it worked,” Hargraves said, smiling.
“It sure does. I can’t thank you enough, Sheriff. If it hadn’t been for you I’d still be runnin’.”
“Well, I’m always ready to help good people make a new start.”
“Hey, thank the doc for me, too. We couldn’t have done it without him.”
“Sure will.” He tipped his hat to them and said, “Well, good day, you two. Let me know if you need anything.”
After the door closed, Easy turned to Reno. “Roby Tyler. It’s a good, strong name, but kind of hard to get used to.”
“I’m just glad it’s a name that doesn’t draw gunfire. Now, I’d better get out there and help the others bring in that crop.”
“I don’t know,” she teased, “think you and the gang can handle just bein’ plain old folks for a change? Doin’ chores from sunup to sunset, plantin’, prayin’ for rain, fightin’ dust storms. Might not be much fun.”
“Don’t you worry. I’ll take to it like a babe takes to its mother’s milk. I’ll be so dull you won’t be able to stand me.”
“Hey, Reno,” she said, indicating toward the ceiling. “What about them?”
He looked up. “Them?”
“You know, the gods.”
He gave a slight shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe they think I’m dead.”
“Or maybe they just decided you’ve had enough bad luck, and now they’re gonna give you a break.”
Reno shrugged. “Could be, I guess, but just to be sure, call me Roby.”
Easy watched Reno as he headed out and felt a contentment inside she’d never felt before. She turned to her bedroom, knowing she had to do one last thing to put all this behind her. As she lay across the bed, she dug out her latest Frank Starr book, and flipped to the story that told about Reno Hudson’s last showdown. Instead of reading it, she took the book, gripped it tightly, and gave it a strong rip. She kept tearing, knowing that she would never again read about the adventures of Reno Hudson and his gang that left her cold and wanting. Now her thrills came from those same black-clad heroes who reminded her with kisses, embraces, and mind-blowing orgasms that they weren’t made of paper, but of real flesh and blood.
Now, as she threw the destroyed book into the trash, she looked up toward the gods that Reno believed in, and whispered a tearful, “Thanks.”
The End
Publisher’s Note
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About Temple Madison
Temple Madison is quickly rising into the ranks of hottest erotica writer around today. She slowly evolved from the mundane boy-meets-girl plotline, to the sexy bad boys who leave a trail of erotic fire wherever they go. Even though she tried to focus on her heroines, she somehow couldn’t keep from wrapping her whole story around the gorgeous guys. Finally, she gave in to it and prowled the streets of her imagination in search of the next super idea and gorgeous hunk. Her passion is the big, swarthy type that fits into the big city nighttime scene. These alpha males might be vampires, werewolves, spirit beings, or they may be completely normal.
But one thing they all are is, sexy as hell!
Early in her career she was discovered on the internet by a publisher that fully embraced her style of writing, and introduced her to erotic e-publishing. What came from it was a series of books that slowly became published, giving her the feeling of at last achieving her goal.
Temple has had her days in the sun, when she was the life of the party, a laugh a minute kind of gal, and outrageously cool, but writing is her passion today. Today she's one of those boring ex-civil service workers that has a penchant for bookstores and sappy love songs. She prefers quiet dinners with friends over maddening crowds. Her favorite pastime is writing a truly exciting suspenseful novel with strong, stand-alone characters, and an exciting, anything-can-happen plotline. After several years, her love of writing hasn't left her, so look for more of her dark romance novels that will give you a chill one minute and a hot flash the next.
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Other Titles by Temple Madison
That Sweet Burn
Back Alley Cop
Taming the Spitfire Page 8