Cross Draw by J. R. Roberts Page A

a man with a rifle back here, pointing it at him.”
    â€œI—I think you should know there’s a man in the back of the wagon with a rifle pointed at you.”
    She noticed the two men flanking the Mexican stiffen. The Mexican, however, remained relaxed.
    â€œThat is very interesting, señora,” he said. “Why is the man in the wagon hiding behind your skirts?”
    â€œHe’s not hiding,” she said. “He was resting back there.”
    â€œWell, tell him to come out,” the Mexican said, waving his arm. “We would like to meet him.”
    â€œJust tell him to move on, Rosemary,” Clint said. “Tell him we don’t have time for him.”
    Rosemary relayed the message, which the Mexican didn’t like.
    â€œI do not believe you, señora,” he said. “There is no man in the wagon. I think you should—”
    All three men flinched when the shot came. So did Rosemary and Abigail. The sombrero flew off the Mexican’s head, eluding his hand as he grabbed for it.
    â€œHijo de un cabron,” he swore.
    â€œIs that proof enough for you?” she asked.
    â€œSí señora,” he said, “it is.”
    â€œThen move aside and let us go.”
    The Mexican waved to the other two men, and they all moved aside. He and one man moved to their left, while the other man moved to his right.
    â€œTell him no matter what happens, no matter who gets shot, he’ll be the first to die.”
    Rosemary repeated the word to the Mexican, who nodded.
    Rosemary started the wagon forward and was aware of the stares of the three men as they rode by them.
    Clint took the rifle and moved to the back of the wagon. This time, he allowed the barrel of the rifle to show out the back of the wagon.
    They went about a mile before Rosemary reined the team in again.
    â€œNow why are we stopping?” Jenny called out.
    Rosemary stuck her head in the wagon and said, “My hands are shaking, that’s why. I need a few minutes.”
    The women piled out of the wagon, followed by Clint, who remained ready to pull his gun from his holster in case the three men followed them.
    Abigail came rushing around the wagon, shouting at Clint.
    â€œAre you crazy? You could have got us killed.”
    â€œThose three men were going to kill you, Abigail,” Clint said.
    â€œHow do you know that?” she asked. “They could have wanted anything. Directions.”
    â€œDon’t be stupid, Abigail,” Jenny said. “Clint saved our lives.”
    â€œAt the very least,” Morgan said, “he saved us from being raped.”
    â€œAnd how could you fire that shot between us?” Abigail went on. “You could have hurt one of us.”
    â€œAbigail,” Rosemary said, “just shut up.”
    â€œNo!” she shouted. “You’re always telling me to shut up. Well, I won’t.”
    Now Rosemary got in Abigail’s face and shouted back, something she had never done before. “If you won’t shut up,” she said, “then get your stuff out of the wagon and we’ll leave you here!”
    â€œYou wouldn’t dare!”
    â€œTry me, Abigail.”
    Abigail stared at Rosemary, who refused to avert her eyes, then turned and walked away.
    Rosemary turned to Clint.
    â€œAre we safe?” she asked.
    â€œNo,” he said. “I think they’ll follow us and wait for their chance.”
    â€œLike when?” she asked.
    â€œWhen we amp,” Clint said.
    â€œSo what do we do?” Jenny asked.
    â€œOne of two things,” he said. “We can keep going, make camp when it gets dark, and wait for them to come in.”
    â€œOr?” Morgan asked.
    â€œI can try to double-back behind them and take them.”
    â€œYou mean kill them?” Rosemary asked.
    â€œIf I have to.”
    â€œWhy would you have to kill them?” Delilah asked. “I mean, I just want to know why