Gunslingers Don't Die: A Sweet Historical Western Romance (Brides of Sweet Creek Ranch Book 2)

by Wanda Ann Thomas

  Maggie clasped Bri’s hand. “This waiting is unbearable.”

  “A brisk walk about the yard might do you some good,” Ella said kindly.

  Bri cast an approving look at Ella. “Despite marrying a cowboy, I would say you are one of the most sensible women I’ve met since coming to America.”

  Maggie had to smile. “Are you saying I’m not sensible?”

  “You’re sensible when you’re not blind,” Bri said.

  Maggie fisted her hands on her hips. “Blind? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brigetta Lyndtz.”

  Viola and Vivien stirred. Ella rubbed their backs soothingly. “Go have yourself a private conversation. I’ll keep an eye on the boys.”

  “I’m sorry,” Maggie whispered.

  Bri tugged Maggie toward the barn. “I know what your problem is, even if you don’t.”

  Maggie broke away. “My problem?”

  “You’re afraid,” Bri accused, framed in the doorway of the half-finished barn.

  “Of course I’m afraid. What if Boone is dead or injured? Colt will be devastated.”

  Bri wrinkled her nose like the time when Jack got sprayed by a skunk. “You can’t be intimidated by the likes of cowboys and gunslingers. You’re afraid to give your heart to Boone.”

  “I’m afraid, but I’m not afraid. Bri, you’re not making sense.”

  “My poor pudding,” Bri cooed. “You fear Boone will leave too.”

  Ready to scream, Maggie knotted her hands. “Leave too? I don’t understand.”

  “Your mother married a half dozen men and they all left.”

  The air left Maggie’s lungs in a rush. “My father died.”

  Bri’s expression softened. “A different leaving, but the same outcome to a helpless little one.”

  The memory of the fear and uncertainty marking Maggie’s childhood heightened the suffocating sensation crushing her chest. “Mama always cried her eyes out after they left. I thought it was out of sadness, but I think she must have been crying because they didn’t love her like she wanted to be loved.”

  Bri wrapped her arm around Maggie. “Boone has been on the run his whole life. Your hesitation is only natural.”

  Maggie leaned on Bri. “I don’t want to be weak.”

  “You were confused,” Bri said. “Now you will be free to follow your heart.”

  Jack and Millie barked an alarm, and raced to the edge of the yard.

  Maggie and Bri followed to see what had the dogs upset.

  A lone rider appeared in the distance. The man was doubled over, clutching the mane of his black horse. Blood stained the arm of his denim shirt. She gasped as though a knife had pierced her heart. “Dear Lord, no.”

  “Why is Boone alone?” Bri asked.

  Maggie willed him to hold on a little longer. “You promised to come back to us. You promised.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Boone straightened in the saddle at the sight of Maggie, Ella, and Brigetta standing safe and sound in Garrett’s yard, waiting for him to reach them. Pain sliced through his gunshot shoulder. He grasped Lightning’s mane tighter with his left hand. Thank God for a good horse.

  Lightning delivered him to the waiting women. Boone hugged his injured arm to his body and slid to the ground.

  Maggie caught him. “Are you hit anywhere else?”

  Jack and Millie pranced at his feet, wagging their tails.

  Ella grasped his good arm. “Where’s Ty? Why isn’t he with you?”

  Boone’s breath sawed in and out of his lungs. “Ty stayed with Garrett. Garrett took a bullet in the thigh. It doesn’t look good.”

  “Was anyone else hurt?” Ella asked, the color returning to her face.

  Bit and pieces of the ruckus stood out in Boone’s mind. “Billy got grazed by a bullet. One of Blackwell’s men was killed and a couple others injured.”

  Brigetta hovered nearby, looking prepared to catch him if he blacked out. “What happened?”

  Boone could kick himself for walking into the ambush. “The Arkansas Kid’s gang got the jump on us. If Blackwell’s men hadn’t taken our side, we wouldn’t have stood a chance. But Amos proved he isn’t a complete fool by turning his gun on the outlaw gang. The Arkansas Kid got away, left his men to die like dogs. Seth, Ox and Billy are helping Buck bury the bodies.”

  “What’s being done for Garrett?” Ella asked. “And what do y’all plan to do about the Arkansas Kid?”

  Boone’s anger grew hotter, recalling Garrett’s pale face and bloodstained blue jeans. “White Wolf went for Doc Craig. Come first light tomorrow, we plan to form a posse and hunt down the Arkansas Kid.”

  Maggie’s brow knitted. “What about your shoulder? You barely made it here.”

  He flexed his arm and winced. “The bullet went clean through. It hurts like the devil. I don’t think it hit any important parts. I’m going after the Arkansas Kid, even if you have to tie me into the saddle.”

  “Ja, I always knew you cowboys are crazy,” Brigetta said, lips pursed. Then her expression softened. “I won’t sleep a wink tonight for worrying over Garrett.”

  “Ty promised to return as soon as possible with a report.”

  Tucker tugged on his pant leg. “Mr. Boone, how many of them did you kill?”

  Boone had dropped two of the outlaws, and had his sights on The Arkansas Kid before the coward ducked behind one of Blackwell’s men. He bit back a crude curse. “Real men don’t brag on killing.” He glanced around. “Where’s Colt?”

  Tucker shrugged. “He ran off.”

  Boone felt Maggie’s muscles tighten. “When?”

  Juan walked toward them, leading Little Malcolm by the hand. “Colt went to use the outhouse.”

  “I’ll go check on him,” Brigetta called over her shoulder, heading around the back of the cabin.

  Ella clucked her tongue at Boone’s bloody sleeve. “Let’s get you washed and bandaged. Maggie, help him to the picnic bench, while I go find some clean rags.”

  Boone pulled away from Maggie. “That’s a mighty nice offer, but I’ll manage on my own.”

  Maggie narrowed her eyes at him. “I will fuss over you. And you will like it.”

  He smiled and brushed a kiss across her brow. “I wish Pa and Ma could have—”

  A cry of fright came from the other side of the cabin. “Don’t hurt my dumpling!” Brigetta yelled, a mix of rage and horror in her voice.

  Dread tore through Boone with the speed of a .45 caliber bullet whizzing down the barrel of a gun. He bolted in the direction of the outhouse. “Maggie, help Ella get the children inside!”

  Jack and Millie raced toward the trouble, barking in a frenzy.

  Boone rounded the corner of the cabin with his Peacemaker drawn, and froze.

  The Arkansas Kid, blood streaking his face and buckskin jacket, grinned back, shielded behind Colt and Brigetta, his Smith & Wessons pointed at their heads.

  Jack and Millie circled the trio, teeth bared and growling.

  “Call your dogs off,” the Arkansas Kid shouted.

  “Jack! Millie!” Boone called sharply.

  Millie skulked away. Jack nipped at the Arkansas Kid’s heels.

  Boone whistled. “Come, boy.”

  Yellow fur bristling, Jack retreated to Boone’s side.

  The Arkansas Kid wiped the blood from his eyes with a fringed sleeve. “Make one wrong move and the boy and the woman die.”

  Colt puckered with indignation. “My daddy isn’t afraid of you. Tell him, Daddy.”

  Brigetta pulled Colt closer. “Be quiet, dumpling. Thin mosquitoes bite the worst.”

  “He’s not a mosquito, Nanny Bri. He’s a bad man.”

  The Arkansas Kid poked Colt with the revolver. “Stop with the gibberish nonsense before I whack you both a good one.”

  If Boone’s heart slammed any harder his ribs would crack. He worked to keep his voice calm. “Son, listen to Brigetta.”

  “Your Pa thought he was smarter than me, mak
ing me look bad in front of Blackwell’s men. But he’s showing me lots of respect now.”

  Boone had never wanted to kill a man as bad as he now wanted to kill the Arkansas Kid, but he couldn’t risk it. “If you hurt my son or Brigetta I will use you for bear bait.”

  The Arkansas Kid grinned. “Your Pa’s angry.”

  Boone gnashed his teeth. “What do you want?”

  “Put down your Peacemakers, and you and I will take a little walk. Wouldn’t want to give your brat nightmares on account of seeing his Pa shot down like a weasel.”

  A gunslinger would give up a kidney before voluntarily handing over his guns. Boone kept his movements slow. “I’m going to do as you say. Don’t do anything stupid.” His shoulder on fire with pain, he laid the Peacemaker in the dirt.

  “That wasn’t so hard was it?” The Arkansas Kid said. “Now, do the same with the other gun.”

  Boone carefully reached for the second Peacemaker. His heart stopped upon spotting Maggie sneaking up on the Arkansas Kid.

  Her face a mask of concentration, she held the palm-sized derringer to the Arkansas Kid’s head. “Surrender, please.”

  The Arkansas Kid sobered. “Murderers don’t say please. You won’t shoot me.”

  “I wouldn’t speak so rashly, Mr. Smith,” Maggie said with commendable steadiness.

  The Arkansas Kid’s mouth twisted. “I don’t take kindly to being called Mr. Smith.”

  “My mama killed lots of rats when she practiced to be a bounty hunter,” Colt bragged. “My mama is the Lady Margaret Lily.”

  Maggie frowned at Brigetta. “Bri, you promised you wouldn’t tell.”

  “I didn’t want Colt thinking his father was braver than you,” Brigetta confessed.

  “You’re the Lady Margaret Lily?” The Arkansas Kid smiled as though he’d been given a box of silver-tipped bullets. “You, me and the Cowboy Assassin should form a new gang. We would be the scourge of the West.”

  “Maggie, don’t allow him to distract you,” Boone said, retrieving his Peacemaker.

  Perspiration dewed her forehead. “Frank Reed gave me plenty of practice when it came to ignoring big talkers.”

  Boone advanced a step. “Brigetta, escort Colt into the cabin, while me and Maggie have a discussion with our guest.” He locked eyes with the Arkansas Kid. “If your trigger finger so much as twitches, I will—”

  “Are you going to shoot him, Daddy?” Colt interrupted, wide-eyed.

  Boone’s gut wrenched. He didn’t want Colt to be tainted by the violence that had been the staple of Boone’s life. “I won’t, unless he gives me reason to. Now, go on with Nanny Brigetta.”

  Colt’s slim shoulders fell, and Brigetta hurried him away.

  Maggie’s pistol remained pressed to the base of the Arkansas Kid’s head. Both of the Kid’s Smith & Wessons were aimed at Boone’s chest. Boone’s Peacemakers were clamped tight in his sweaty hands.

  “I have a deal for you,” Boone said. “Give up peacefully and I’ll make sure you get a fair trial.”

  The Arkansas Kid grunted. “Is that how you would want to go out? Death by hanging.”

  Every gunslinger Boone had crossed paths with wanted to die with their guns in their hands. “I want to die in my bed when I’m an old man, surrounded by my lovely wife, my children, and my grandchildren.”

  The sound of multiple sets of horse hooves approached at a fast clip, and Seth, Ox, Billy, and Buck drew up in a cloud of dust.

  Jack and Millie barked and barked.

  “Shut up, dogs!” The Arkansas Kid yelled, taking aim with one of Smith & Wessons.

  Jack exploded forward and lunged for the Arkansas Kid’s throat with bared teeth.

  Maggie pulled down the Arkansas Kid’s arm, and the shot from the revolver ricocheted off the rocky ground. Jack yelped in pain. The Arkansas Kid swung the Smith & Wesson toward Maggie.

  Multiple guns erupted in a deafening roar.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  When the gun smoke cleared the Arkansas Kid was stretched out on his back in a pool of blood, his eyes sightless. Boone holstered his Peacemakers.

  Jack limped in a circle, holding a bloody front left paw off the ground. Maggie trembled where she stood, her face pale. The bullet she’d fired from her derringer had struck the Arkansas Kid in the back. Boone’s Peacemakers had finished the job.

  The nausea that always hit after a gunfight roiled Boone’s stomach. “You put the fright of God in me, woman, when I saw you with that peashooter.”

  The derringer slipped from her hand and she flew into his arms. “I was so afraid I could hardly breathe.”

  Boone crushed her to his chest, and glanced back. “Anyone hurt?”

  Ox and Billy shook their heads and set to comforting Millie. Buck took charge of seeing after the Arkansas Kid’s body. Seth corralled Jack and examined the injured paw.

  The blood staining the ground mocked Boone. Gunslingers didn’t live in peace. Pa and Ma had paid the price. And now Garrett. He loved his family too much to stay in Aurora. What if it was Maggie or Colt lying dead at his feet?

  He tucked the loose strands of honey hair falling around Maggie’s face behind her ear. “I’m sorry you had to be a part of this.”

  Maggie pressed closer. “I’m not. I would do whatever it takes to save you and Colt and Brigetta.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Once I’m sure Ty, Wyatt, and White Wolf have matters in hand, I’ll take you and Colt someplace safe.” What he should do is take her and Colt back to St. Louis and disappear for good.

  “Mama,” Colt shouted, racing around the corner, followed by Brigetta.

  Maggie broke away and caught Colt up in her arms.

  Boone watched the reunion with pleasure, until Jack’s whine registered. He squatted beside the dog and patted his yellow head. “How are you, dog?”

  Jack licked his face.

  Boone managed a weak smile. “I love you too, dog.”

  Seth stared across at Boone with pursed lips.

  “You have something on you mind, just spit it out,” Boone said, bracing for the usual onslaught of contempt and sarcasm.

  Seth shrugged. “You saved Buck and Ugly Sally’s lives.”

  “Ty and Wyatt would have got on fine without me.”

  “Think that if you want. But your leaving won’t be the end of the trouble. Blackwell will hire another cattle detective, one who might be ten times as bad as the Arkansas Kid. The folks in Aurora will be plenty happy to have an experienced gunman as the town sheriff.”

  Boone studied Seth. When had the scrawny, malnourished fourteen-year-old he had rescued from a fistfight with three drunken cowboys in an alley behind a seamy Cheyenne saloon become a man? Not that Seth had thanked him. He’d feared the unhappy boy would reject Sweet Creek Ranch and the warmth and love offered by Ty and Ella. After a rough start, he had stayed on, but Seth remained standoffish, unlike Billy and Juan who had taken to the ranch like born cowboys.

  Boone gave Seth a mock dirty look. “Now, don’t go and gloat after I say you’re right. My running off won’t make Aurora safer.”

  He was rewarded with a lopsided smile. “Mr. Ty and Miss Ella will dance a jig when they hear you’re staying.” Seth ruffled Jack’s fur. “And Jack won’t have to hobble over half the West again. And Colt will get to be a cowboy.”

  Boone’s gaze slid to Maggie and Colt. “Don’t go saying anything just yet. Maggie and I are still working out what comes next.”

  “Miss Maggie is some woman. Don’t go messing things up.”

  Boone swiped Seth’s Stetson from his head, and winced at the abrupt reminder of the hole in his shoulder. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, kid.”

  Seth grabbed his hat back. “Go see Miss Maggie and let her fuss over you. Women go all gooey-hearted over hurt men.”

  “How soon before you strike out into the world?”

  Seth shrugged, and looked away. “Before winter.”

  Boone could talk until he was blue in th
e face and not get anywhere. “Somebody will need to take my place rescuing orphans and boys in need of a good home.”

  Seth gave him a suspicious look. “You want me to take over?”

  “On one condition.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Boone pointed at Seth’s rusted Colt Dragoon. “You exchange that six-shooter for real guns. I don’t have any use for my Schofields.”

  Seth smiled like a child cradling a candy dish. “You mean that?”

  “What do you think?”

  Gingerly picking up Jack’s bloody paw, Seth examined it, then offered Boone a cocky grin. “You know what they say about gunslingers?”

  Boone exhaled a heavy breath. “They have rocks for brains.”

  “Gunslingers don’t die. They go out in a blaze of glory.”

  Death had never frightened Boone. Until now. Now he had something to live for. “The Arkansas Kid believed that, and look how he ended.”

  “I’m not going to turn out rotten.” Seth stood and stalked away.

  Boone hugged Jack. “I hope not, kid,” he said into Jack’s fur. “I hope you find peace before it’s too late.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The smell of gun smoke lingered in Maggie’s nostrils, her ears rang from the booming gun blasts, and her palm reverberated from the firepower of the derringer. She couldn’t stop hugging Colt.

  The image of the Arkansas Kid holding his huge, black guns on Colt and Brigetta was emblazoned on her mind. Then Jack lunging. The feel of pulling the trigger. The surprising kick of the compact pistol.

  The bullet from her gun had distracted the Arkansas Kid and given Boone the advantage. Both sickened and satisfied that she was responsible for some of the blood staining the ground, holding Colt, she knew she would do worse to protect him. So would Boone. They shared that in common.

  Colt wiggled free. “Mama, why are you shaking? Are you cold?”

  Bri draped a shawl over Maggie’s shoulders. “I thought you might need this.”

  Maggie kissed Bri’s cheek. “What would I do without you?”

  Bri’s blush of pleasure gave way to an imperious frown. “You proved you have bravery to spare. Now you just need to believe it.”