‘It’s all over,’ he told her.
Her eyes seemed to clear a little. She put a hand tentatively to her face where Rawley had struck her and whimpered a bit.
‘Sam?’ she said.
‘He’ll be all right,’ McAllister said and reckoned he lied.
He helped her to her feet and she fell heavily against him, too weak to stand. He lifted her in his arms and started walking. Going back the way he had come, he thought about what had happened, about the gold and the men who had died for it. He was going to be busy in the next few days. That gold was going to the men who remained, the men who had dug it. A horse whinnied softly and, lifting his eyes, he saw the canelo. McAllister stopped, amazed. He laid the girl gently on the ground and approached the animal. It pushed its soft muzzle affectionately into his face. Examining it, he found that it had been creased. A miracle. That stroke of luck cheered him. He patted the great head. The animal looked a little uncertain, but it seemed none the worse for its experience. He went back to the girl, lifted her and placed her in the saddle, then led the horse on down onto the saddle.
The train still stood as he had left it. Diaz was crouched over the still form of Sam and for one terrible moment McAllister thought his friend must be dead. Diaz turned and straightened at the sound of the horse and came grinning toward them.
‘This Sam,’ he said and laughed. ‘He has the luck, por Dios.
The bullet hit a rib. It went out of his back and left a clean hole. Sam will be all right, I think.’
The girl smiled wanly and slipped from the horse’s back, running to Sam and throwing herself down by him, her arms around him.
McAllister said: ‘Some fellers have all the luck. All we have is gold. Let’s get outa here.’ He walked up to Sam and looked down at him. His friend looked pale, but otherwise all right. Diaz had patched him up.
‘Rawley’s dead,’ McAllister told Sam. ‘Gato cut his throat.’
Sam said: ‘We can go home then.’ His arm tightened around Carlita.
McAllister walked away and mounted the canelo. He was tired and hungry, but he felt good. He was thinking about the first cold beer he’d have when he reached Euly.
1Sam Spur appeared in SPUR by Matt Chisholm and THE GUN IS MY BROTHER by Cy James, both in Panther Books.
This electronic edition published in 2011 by Bloomsbury Reader
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Copyright © P. C. Watts
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Gunsmoke for McAllister Page 18