“Let her go…,” Lane ordered.
Mose let his hands drop away from the blonde.
Sally jumped up from his lap and fled to safety, staring wide-eyed in wonder at the tall, dark man who’d issued the order. She could tell the stranger meant business. He and another man were standing at the front of the saloon just inside the swinging doors with their guns drawn and aimed at the drunk.
Mose hadn’t looked toward Lane yet, and now he smiled slowly to himself. He hadn’t let the saloon girl go because Lane had ordered it. He had let her go so he could reach for his gun. “Well, well, well, if it ain’t my old boss…”
His snide, arrogant ways only infuriated Lane more. “That’s right. Now, turn around real slow and keep your hands where I can see them.”
Mose slowly shifted positions and looked Lane’s way. It was then that he saw Rick standing beside Lane in front of the bar. Both men had their guns trained on him.
“Who are you boys, and what are you doing in my saloon?” the bartender demanded.
“We’ve come for our friend here,” Lane told him, nodding toward Mose.
“Are you the law?”
“No,” Lane answered, “but here’s the wanted poster.”
Without looking away from Mose, Lane pulled the folded-up sheet of paper from his shirt pocket and tossed it on the bar in front of him.
The bartender snatched the poster up to read it.
“All right,” the bartender said, after studying the likeness of Mose Harper on the poster and then looking over at the man sitting at the table in the back of the saloon. “You!” he ordered one of the men who was standing at the bar, drinking. “Go find the sheriff—and get him back here fast!”
The man at the bar ran out the swinging doors to do what the bartender had ordered.
Mose knew just how wrong he’d been to think Lane Madison wouldn’t find him. He had thought he’d gotten away with teaching Lane’s wife a lesson, but now as he faced his old boss, he was scared, real scared. He slowly got to his feet and turned around slowly.
“Lane—Rick, what’s this all about?” Mose wanted to go for his gun, but he had to make his move when the time was right, or he’d be a dead man.
“Don’t play innocent with me, Mose,” Lane ground out. “Katie’s dead.”
“Dead?” he squeaked like the coward he was.
“That’s right, and you’re the one who killed her.”
“I didn’t kill her,” Mose lied. He’d thought for sure she’d been dead when he’d left her, so he had no idea how Lane could have found out that he was the one who’d raped and beaten her. Even so, the look in Lane’s eyes heightened the terror that filled him.
“Katie lived long enough to tell me what you did,” Lane said, rage filling him. “And I’m going to see you pay for it. I’m going to enjoy watching you hang.”
Mose knew right then he was a dead man—one way or the other. His only hope was to shoot his way out of this, so in a fierce, quick move, he went for his gun.
But Lane had expected Mose would try to run off, and he was ready for him. When Mose went for his gun, Lane fired, and he watched in satisfaction as the drunk collapsed on the floor, moaning.
Lane and Rick walked slowly to where Mose lay, their guns still in hand. Lane stood over him, while Rick made short order of grabbing up Mose’s gun from where he’d dropped it when he’d been hit.
Mose looked up at Lane, quaking and trembling in terror as he clutched his bloody shoulder and cowered before him.
“Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!” he squealed.
Lane stared down at the man who had so cold-bloodedly taken Katie’s life.
He wanted him to pay for what he’d done.
He wanted him to suffer.
Lane’s grip on his gun tightened.
He wanted to put an end to the drunk’s miserable, worthless life, but he managed to control himself. “Don’t worry, Mose. I’m not going to kill you.”
Mose was stunned. He stared up at Lane wide-eyed.
“No, I’m not going to kill you,” Lane repeated. “That would be too easy for you. I’m going to let the law deal with you. You’re going to hang.”
“Nooo!” the coward wailed, crying and shaking in his fear.
As he was squealing, the town’s sheriff came rushing in. He’d heard the gunfire and had drawn his revolver, ready for trouble.
“What’s going on?” he demanded, seeing the wounded man on the floor and the stranger standing over him, gun in hand.
“It’s all right now, Sheriff,” the bartender hurried to reassure him as he handed over the wanted poster. “Here—”
The sheriff quickly read the description of the wanted man and then looked down at Mose in disgust.
“Mose Harper—You’re under arrest for murder. I’m taking you in.” He glanced over at some of the other men in the bar and ordered, “You two, get him up and take him over to the jail. I’ll be right there to lock him up.”
The men quickly did as they were told, for they knew better than to mess with the sheriff.
Lane and Rick watched as they grabbed Mose by the arms to drag him from the saloon.
Only when Mose had been removed from the saloon did Lane finally holster his gun. He looked at the sheriff. “Thanks.”
The lawman nodded to him as he, too, holstered his gun. “No, thank you. We don’t need killers like him running loose in our town.”
Rick handed over Mose’s gun to the sheriff, and then the lawman left them to see about locking the prisoner up.
Rick looked at Lane. “I could use a drink. What about you?”
Lane said nothing as he joined his friend at the bar and ordered a whiskey. The trek to find Mose had been long and hard, but it had been worth it. He took a deep drink of the potent liquor and wondered if he could go back to ranching after all that had happened.
Three Years Later
Black Rock, Texas
It was late on a hot summer night, and the mood was wild in the Tumbleweed Saloon. The notorious outlaw Dan Cooper and his gang had ridden into town earlier that afternoon. They’d robbed a stagecoach the week before and had gotten clean away. They’d come to Black Rock looking for a good time, and they’d found it there at the Tumbleweed. They had been drinking and gambling and enjoying the company of the buxom saloon girls, who were eager to please the free-spending outlaws.
It wasn’t often that Dan and his men could relax and let their guard down this way, but in Black Rock the sheriff, Hal Brown, was a known coward. They’d had a few run-ins with him in the past, and he’d learned to make himself scarce whenever the Cooper Gang showed up.
Dan Cooper wasn’t a big man, but there was an edge of danger about him—about the way he held himself and the way he wore his gun—that made him an imposing figure as he sat at the table, drinking his whiskey and playing poker.
The red-haired saloon girl Lila wasn’t afraid of Dan, though. She’d been with him in the past and couldn’t wait to get him upstairs again.
“What do you think, Big Dan?” Lila purred enticingly as she came to stand close beside him. “You gonna win this hand and come upstairs with me? I’m tired of waiting.”
Dan was well aware that Lila was very talented at pleasing a man. He’d partaken of her services many times before during visits to the Tumbleweed, and he enjoyed being with her, but right then he had to concentrate on playing out his hand. “You bet I am. Just stay right here with me and bring me some good luck.”
“You know I will,” she whispered seductively.
Dan turned his full attention back to the poker game, taking care to keep his expression carefully guarded as he studied the cards he held in his hand. This had been a good night for him. The winnings piled high on the table before him were proof of that, and he was certain his luck was only going to get better. Lifting his gaze, he looked over at the two men sitting at the table with him and saw their tense expressions. Dan smiled to himself, for he knew they wouldn’t be sitting there much longer—not with the hand he was holding now.
“I’ll raise you,” he said in a calm, even tone, determined to take them for all he could. He enjoyed the look of shock on the other gamblers’ faces when he pushed all of his cash to the center of the table.
“What—?” Will Taylor, the local blacksmith, was angry.
“You heard me,” Dan said arrogantly.
Even though he had two pairs, Will knew there was no way he could match Dan’s bet. Barely controlling his disgust at losing all his money, he threw in his hand and shoved his chair back away from the table. “I’m out.”
Dan turned to Chuck Davis. He didn’t know Chuck well. They’d just met for the first time that day. Chuck was just passing through town and had come in for a drink, then ended up in the game.
“What about you?” Dan asked.
Chuck kept his cards close to his chest as he looked over at Dan. He’d always considered himself a good poker player, but it was hard for him to tell if the other man was bluffing or not. Chuck glanced back down at the three nines he’d been dealt and believed he held the winning hand. He counted out what money he had left in front of him and then looked up again to meet Dan’s cold-eyed stare. “I’m low on cash, but I can bet my ranch.”
“How big a ranch you got?” he challenged.
“The Circle D is big enough to match your bet,” he replied firmly. He knew better than to show any sign of weakness around a man like Dan Cooper.
“Where is this ranch of yours?”
“Over near Bluff Springs.”
Dan nodded as he considered the offer. He looked back down at his own cards.
The saloon had suddenly gone quiet as everyone realized just how tense the game had become. The stakes were high—real high if this Chuck Davis was betting his ranch. The other customers gathered around the table to see which gambler was going to win.
“You must be feeling mighty good about your hand,” Dan sneered, giving the rancher a smug grin.
“I am,” Chuck replied evenly, but inwardly, he was bristling at the outlaw’s arrogance. He didn’t let his irritation show, though, for he’d heard how dangerous this man and his gang were, and he didn’t want to get caught up in a shoot-out. He just wanted to win all the money that was riding on this game. He’d been going through some hard times on the Circle D and needed the cash to keep the place going. “What do you say?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a rancher.”
“Well, let’s see what you’ve got,” Chuck challenged.
Dan smiled confidently as he slowly spread his full house of kings and tens out on the tabletop for all to see. “What are you holding?”
For a moment, Chuck could only stare at the other man’s winning hand in disbelief, and then the reality of what had happened hit him. He’d lost everything. Slowly, painfully, he tossed his losing hand on the table.
“Whoo-hooo!” Dan roared. “Looks like Lila here brought me all that good luck she was promising!”
A roar went through the crowd as Dan got up and kissed the saloon girl hotly before swinging her around in celebration.
“What do you say, boys? Looks like I just got me a ranch! I’m buying! Drinks are on me!” Dan stood up and raked in all the money he’d just won. He stuffed his pockets full of the cash. “We got some celebrating to do.” He looked over at Chuck. “I’ll find you later, and we’ll talk.”
Chuck only nodded.
Dan turned away from the table, and, keeping Lila at his side, he headed to the bar to join his men.
“You just had yourself one lucky night,” drawled Seth Rawlins, the fastest gun in the gang.
“Yes, I did,” Dan agreed, picking up the glass of whiskey the bartender had set before him. He took a deep drink as he eyed Lila hungrily and then grinned. “And the night’s not over yet.”
“No, it’s not,” Seth said, leering at Lila.
The other three members of the gang, Ted Wilkins, John Harris and Al Meade, who went by the nickname of Slick, came over to congratulate Dan.
“That sure was a fine hand,” John told him.
“I’ll say,” Dan agreed.
“What are you going to do with the ranch?” Ted asked.
“Why, I’m going to settle down—maybe get me a wife and have some kids,” Dan joked.
They all laughed, for they knew what kind of man he really was.
Dan was laughing with them.
“I’ll think of something,” he assured him. “But right now, I got something else on my mind—”
Two of the other saloon girls came over to him, a buxom blonde known as Francie and a dark-haired beauty named Dolly.
“I love a winner,” Francie said brazenly, positioning herself close enough to him so he could have a clear view of her cleavage in her low-cut dress.
“So do I,” Dolly agreed.
Dan eyed them both, but he knew Lila had more to offer him—a lot more. “I’ve already got the woman I need.” He looked brazenly down the front of Lila’s gown. “But some of my boys will be glad to show you a good time. Won’t you, boys?”
“You bet,” Seth replied.
Seth quickly grabbed Francie and yanked her over to him while Slick went after Dolly.
“Lila, darling, you done got yourself a winner tonight.” Dan smiled at her. “Let’s go upstairs and get this celebration started!”
Lila took his arm and drew him up the staircase and down the hall to her room in the back. Dan had won big tonight, and she knew he was going to take care of her real good.
Francie looked up at Seth. “What about you? Are you ready for a good time now that the gambling’s over?”
“The gambling’s not over,” Seth said, trying not to smile.
“What are you talking about?” Francie was becoming frustrated in her efforts to get him upstairs, and she was confused by his statement. “The big game is over. There’s no more betting going on.”
“Sure there is, woman.” He chuckled at her. “I’m betting you’re going to entertain me real nice.”
Francie smiled enticingly. “I’d say that was a safe bet on your part, and I raise you—”
“By how much?”
“Come on. I’ll have to show you how much—” She started toward the staircase, giving him an inviting look.
Seth’s gaze was heated as he set his drink aside and went after her. “I think I’m going to enjoy playing this hand.”
Francie looked over her shoulder as she mounted the steps ahead of him. “No doubt about it.”
Slick wasted no time taking Dolly to one of the empty tables at the back of the room, while John and Ted returned to the bar. At that moment, they were more interested in drinking than womanizing.
It was almost closing time when Seth came downstairs to the saloon again and found Dan sitting at a table near the back of the room. The crowd had thinned out, so Seth got himself another drink from the bar and went to sit with the outlaw leader.
“This has been a great night,” Seth said as he settled in, leaning back in his chair to relax.
“So Francie took good care of you?”
“Oh, yeah. She earned her money.” He was feeling unusually satisfied. Francie had tried to resist him at the start, claiming he was being too rough, but she’d shut up after he’d shown her what ‘rough’ really was. She’d smartened up then and hadn’t given him any more trouble. He liked roughing up women. The violence touched something in him that sex alone could not.
Dan paused to draw his full attention. “Seth, I’ve been thinking about this ranch I just won.”
Seth chuckled. “What did you decide? You really are gonna take up ranching, settle down now? Maybe even get yourself a wife?”
“No. I’m not, but I was thinking maybe you were.”
Seth frowned. “What are you talking about? What have you got in mind?”
Dan quickly explained, “We’ve been needing a safe place to hide out whenever the law comes after us, and what better place than—”
“The Circle D,” Seth finished.
“It’s a good ride from here. It’s over by Bluff Springs.” Dan nodded. “You could show up there as the new owner. You’re not as well-known as I am. There wouldn’t be too many questions asked. Why, you could even send back East for one of them mailorder brides. She’d have no idea what was going on, and you’d look like a real upstanding citizen when you settled in, got yourself a wife, and took over running things.”
They shared a knowing look.
“And no one would ever suspect it was our hideout,” Seth finished.
“That’s right,” Dan said with great satisfaction, thinking his plan was perfect. “And every now and then you could take a ’trip’ and ride with us.”
“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” Seth enjoyed their dangerous lifestyle. He liked that people were frightened when they heard the Cooper Gang was coming. It made him feel strong, and if he was living right there in the middle of law-abiding citizens and they didn’t know who he was, he was going to enjoy being an outlaw even more.
“Good, we’ll do it. I already talked to Chuck. He was still here waiting for me when I came back down. The Circle D is mine, but as far as the ranch hands are concerned—I told him to send word that Seth Rawlins was the new owner, and Chuck knows better than to say any different.”
The two men were quiet for a moment as each took a deep drink. Then Seth looked up and grinned.
“Well, Boss, I guess if I’m going to be ’settling down,’ first thing in the morning I’d better see about sending a telegram to get me one of those brides. Some little girl is going to get real lucky coming out here to marry me.”
The two men laughed and continued their drinking, unaware that the saloon girl Dolly was sitting at a table nearby and had overheard their every word.