Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] by Nightrose Read Free Book Online Page A

master.
    Rowe’s head felt as if it were a huge drum, and someone was pounding on it with a hammer. Half-blinded with pain and his own blood that dripped from his lacerated scalp, he leaned against the wall and thumbed shells into the Smith & Wesson. Two of the three men were accounted for. The one he had knocked from the saddle was outside. If he still lived, he would be like a wounded bear because he had nothing to lose. Rowe staggered to the door and peered out into the street. It was empty. Had the wounded man ridden out?
    A bullet coming in through the doorway struck the glasses on the bar, sending shards of glass in every direction. It answered the question. Rowe cursed and fell back. He wiped the blood out of his eye with his shirt sleeve. He hadn’t even seen where the bullet had come from. The man was in no better condition to run than he was. Maybe he would surrender.
    “Hey, out there!” he called. “Your friends are dead. You’ve been hit. Give up and I’ll let you ride out.”
    “You stupid son of a bitch! Ya’re in worse shape than I am, if I know Arch ’n’ Roberts. I aim to keep ya in there till ya bleed to death!”
    Rowe wondered if he had the strength to climb the stairs to the second floor so he would have a better view of the street. Then he remembered the windows on the front were still boarded up. They wouldn’t do him much good. The only place the man could be hiding was behind the stone wall built around the well in the middle of the street.
    Blood from the wound in his thigh had run down into his boot, squishing when he walked. Blood from his arm dripped onto the floor. His head was beginning to feel light. He sat down in a chair and tried to tie his neckerchief about his thigh. The sun coming in the doorway told him it would be hours before dark. He leaned forward in the chair to prop himself against the table. The straight line of the bar tilted and then vanished into a wavering mist. It returned for a brief instant before darkness fell.
     
    To Katy and Mary, it seemed an eternity since the first shots were fired. Defying Rowe’s orders, Katie had watched from the slit in the wall as the men rode into town and stopped in front of the saloon. Standing on tiptoes, she had a clear view. They heard Garrick Rowe ask the men to leave and heard their taunting answers. The presence of the cow had told the men that there were women in the town.
    The violence had come suddenly. Garrick Rowe was talking to the men, then the shooting began. Katy saw one man fall from the saddle and drag himself behind the stone wall surrounding the well across from the saloon. Her heart leapt to her throat when Rowe fell back out of the doorway. She knew he had been hit. Almost before she could catch her breath, the two men had jumped from the saddles and charged into the building. The frightened horses bolted down the street, their reins dragging. Six shots were fired inside the saloon in rapid succession. It was unbelievable that one of them hadn’t killed Garrick Rowe.
    With her eyes glued to the doorway, Katy waited for someone to appear. Then, for only a brief instant, she saw a tall, lean, buckskin-clad figure, his face blood-streaked. The man behind the stone well fired, and Rowe backed from the doorway. Katy slumped against the wall during the quiet that followed.
    Theresa began to cry a whimpering sound, trying to obey her mother’s request not to make any noise.
    “Shhh . . . darling. Don’t cry now. You’ve been a brave girl. We must be as quiet as we can.”
    Rowe’s voice, yelling from inside the saloon, brought Katie up on her tiptoes so that she could see out again. The man behind the well had his gun pointed at the doorway of the saloon.
    “I aim to keep ya there till ya bleed to death.”
    The words sank into Katy’s mind. If Rowe was badly hurt, the man behind the well could do just as he said, keep him pinned in the saloon.
    “We’ve got to do something.” Katy turned to her sister