When Prophet and Louisa had loaded Sam into the wagon box, letting his legs hang down from the tailgate, Prophet walked around to where Rose sat, looking pale beside Utter, who was swabbing his face from his canteen.
“You okay, Rose?” He draped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
She nodded and patted his hand. “I’ll mend just fine. I’m gonna stay in town and have my baby.” She lifted her dusty face to give him a bold, resolute look. “And then I’m gonna go on back to the ranch and raise him ... or her ... right.”
Prophet kissed the girl’s forehead. He swung around and climbed into the wagon where Louisa was already making herself comfortable, resting her back up against the front of the box. Prophet climbed up beside her. Metalious groaned around between them, clutching a neckerchief to his bloody side where Louisa had stuck him with a dagger.
“Everybody comfortable?” Utter said.
“This is the king’s quarters, Marshal,” Prophet said. “The king’s damn quarters.”
“Hold on.” Louisa looked toward where Clell sat at the base of the hang tree. The scar-lipped outlaw was reaching for a pistol on the ground near his left boot. Blood covered his chest and belly.
He looked at Louisa. He froze. His eyes snapped wide in horror.
“Never did care for you, Clell.”
Louisa’s extended Colt barked.
Clell fell sideways, bowed his back, then dropped once more for the last time.
Utter turned the wagon around, and they all bounced back along the trail toward the canyon mouth. A hand touched Prophet’s cheek. He turned to see Louisa frowning at him as she rubbed a speck of dust from the bleeding bullet burn up high on his cheekbone. She licked her fingers and gave the cut another, rough swab.
“Ouch,” he groaned.
“Oh, buck up, will you?”
She grabbed his ear, used it to pull his head toward her, and kissed him on the lips. She pulled away, probing him gently, yearningly, with her hazel eyes. Her breasts rose and fell behind her serape. Smiling faintly, she let him go, rested her head against his shoulder, and gave a deep, relieved sigh.
Prophet stared back over the tailgate at the hang tree where Blanco gave one last twitch. The outlaw’s right boot slipped off his foot and tumbled to the ground. The hard case’s body twisted slightly, and then his arms fell straight down at his sides.
There was a rush of wings overhead, and Prophet flinched with a start. A hawk, he saw. A big, steel-gray rap-tor with red bars on its wings and a dark-banded tail. It was coming in fast.
It lighted on Blanco’s shoulder and lifted an echoing screech of proprietary delight.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PETER BRANDVOLD was born and raised in North Dakota and now makes his home in Colorado and Arizona, traveling around the West. He’s written over fifty Western novels under his own name and several pseudonyms, including Frank Leslie. He’s also written the Bat Lash comic book series for DC, and two screenplays. Drop him a line at peterbrandvold@gmail.com.
Berkley titles by Peter Brandvold
The Bounty Hunter Lou Prophet Series
THE DEVIL’S WINCHESTER
THE GRAVES AT SEVEN DEVILS
THE DEVIL’S LAIR
STARING DOWN THE DEVIL
THE DEVIL GETS HIS DUE
RIDING WITH THE DEVIL’S MISTRESS
DEALT THE DEVIL’S HAND
THE DEVIL AND LOU PROPHET
The Rogue Lawman Series
BORDER SNAKES
BULLETS OVER BEDLAM
COLD CORPSE, HOT TRAIL
DEADLY PREY
ROGUE LAWMAN
The Sheriff Ben Stillman Series
HELL ON WHEELS
ONCE LATE WITH A .38
ONCE UPON A DEAD MAN
ONCE A RENEGADE
ONCE HELL FREEZES OVER
ONCE A LAWMAN
ONCE MORE WITH A .44
ONCE A MARSHAL
.45-CALIBER FIREBRAND
.45-CALIBER WIDOW MAKER
.45-CALIBER DEATHTRAP
.45-CALIBER MANHUNT
.45-CALIBER FURY
.45-CALIBER REVENGE
Other titles
BLOOD MOUNTAIN
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
ABOUT THE AUTHOR