The Outlaws by Jane Toombs Read Free Book Online Page B

Halloran.
    Billy said Halloran was okay, but Ezra didn’t think any man who worked for Dolan could be trusted.
    You couldn’t even trust Sheriff Brady. When Dolan said jump, Brady only asked how high. Ezra sighed. He couldn’t take any chances. He’d better go back. As he started to wheel his horse, he saw a rider come into sight over the hill ahead of him. Ezra’s hand rested near his Colt as he reined in.
    The rider drew closer and Ezra relaxed. The man was a Negro ex-cavalryman named George Washington who worked part-time for McSween as well as playing the fiddle when anyone had a dance. He seemed to be everyone’s friend. If you wanted to know what was going on just about anywhere in the county, Washington was the man to ask.
    Ezra raised his hand, hailing the black man.
    “Heard tell there’s a sheriff’s posse after Tunstall,” Washington told him as he drew up.
    “Said they was gonna settle accounts once and forever.”
    Ezra tensed. “How many men?”
    “I was told about two dozen, give or take a couple. They started off this morning from Dolan’s. Bound to be trouble. ‘Specially since Brady ain’t even with them.”
    “Does Tunstall know?”
    Washington shook his head. “Don’t rightly think so, I’m heading in to let Mr. McSween know what’s going on.”
    Ezra watched Washington trot on toward Lincoln, then turned to look down the road leading to Tunstall’s ranch. The news killed any plan to return home. He had to get to Tunstall, so he’d have to ride like hell to try to get to the ranch in time to warn him. He’d take the shortcut Billie once showed him.
    As he turned off the trail and kicked the pinto into a gallop, excitement pounded through Ezra. Maybe there’d be shooting. He’d grab the chance to stand with Tunstall against Dolan’s men.
    The snow on the high peaks to the west glistened in the sunlight, the pines on the lower slopes green against the white. A crisp, chill day, good for riding. Ezra slowed his horse to pull his Colt, spinning the chamber. All full. When the pistol was back in its holster, he yanked Papa’s old Winchester from the saddle scabbard and checked it. The rifle was loaded and ready.
    Ezra Nesbitt was ready, too.
    His fervor flagged as the day edged into afternoon. He’d finished the tortilla wrapped
    around the beef and beans he’d gotten from Rosalita and he was still hungry. Damn it, he should have taken more food. The pinto was tiring, besides, and needed to be paced, slowing Ezra.
    All of a sudden three turkeys flew up from under the horse’s hooves. The pinto shied violently to one side and stumbled. Ezra grabbed the saddle horn to stay mounted. He heard the turkeys scurrying into the underbrush of a canyon off to the right as he fought to steady the startled horse.
    As the pinto quieted, Ezra swore. The horse limped. He dismounted to check the off foreleg. Nothing was broken, but when he remounted, the pinto continued to favor the leg and couldn’t be urged faster than a walk.
    He’d lost any chance of reaching Tunstall’s before Dolan’s posse. He’d be lucky to get there before dark as this rough trail would be hard on a lame horse.
    Ezra sighed. On the one hand, he ought to offer to stand with Tunstall against Dolan’s men—except now he’d probably get there after it was all settled.
    On the other hand, Sheriff Brady was still in town and might be fixing to arrest McSween again This’d leave the women and children without any man between them and whatever Dolan planned to do next. Tessa had the other Colt, but she wasn’t much of a shot. Ezra slammed his fist into his palm. He shouldn’t have gone off and left Tessa and Jules like he’d done. Tunstall had a whole crew of men to help him, including Billy, the best shot in the Territory. Tessa didn’t have anyone. Oh, Rutledge, maybe, but Ezra didn’t think he’d be much help. A talker, not a doer. He’d been too damn hasty, that’s what.
    “You’ve a good head on your