LEE had to find Aspen. Then he had to survive finding Aspen. The odds on the one were pretty good. The odds on the other were chancy. He barreled into the mercantile, heedless of whether there were any customers.
“Aspen?”
“What’s wrong?” Aspen came out from the storeroom and lifted his little brother’s chin to the light. “And what happened to your cheek?”
“Gov’s run,” Lee answered.
His tone was more urgent than fearful, but he had just enough fear to make him seriously wish he could squirm out of there. Lee held his ground, though, because he owed Gideon a lot more than taking a tongue lashing from Aspen.
Aspen’s brows narrowed and his grip tightened minutely. “When?”
“Right after he knocked me flat,” Lee explained. “I’ve been looking everywhere. But—”
“I’ll kill him.”
“We have to find him first. But—”
“Right, then I’ll kill him.”
“Aspen, will you listen to me?” Lee tried again, as Aspen hustled him outside. “Something spooked him.”
“He’ll be downright terrified when I catch up with him,” Aspen replied, scanning the street.
Lee grabbed his brother’s sleeve. “Aspen! I’m trying to tell you Gov saw something. Something that made him run.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Aspen demanded.
Lee spread his hands in frustrated self-defense, but could get nothing out before Aspen caught on and jumped ahead.
“Tarlston?” he asked.
Aspen recalled the sheriff’s posse closing in on a pack of rustlers, bullets flying left and right, and Gov running through the crossfire to save Lee, with no regard whatsoever for his own safety.
“Blast!” Aspen swore. “He’s doing it again. Come on, we have to find him. No, better yet, get Luke.”