The Loner: Inferno #12 by J.A. Johnstone

said, “You can pouch that iron now, Kid. I’m much obliged to you for not killin’ him.”
    “I wasn’t going to kill him, but I might’ve had to break his arm with a bullet,” The Kid said. “I’m glad I didn’t.” He slid his Colt back into leather as he looked down at Harwood. The scout was out cold.
    Milo Farnum came up and scooped Harwood’s gun from the ground. “I’ll hang on to this for a while. Just to make sure everybody’s cooled off.”
    “That’s a good idea, Milo.” Dunlap turned to face the crowd and raised his voice as he went on. “You folks go on about your business. All the excitement’s over.”
    A grim-faced Jessica climbed down from the wagon and went over to kneel beside the unconscious Harwood. She put a hand on his head where Dunlap had hit him.
    “He’ll be all right,” the wagonmaster said. “I didn’t wallop him that hard. Reckon he’ll have a headache when he wakes up, but that’s all.”
    She shook her head and murmured, “No, that’s not all. He’ll have a broken heart, too.”
    “Ain’t nothin’ I can do about that, ma’am.”
    “No, it’s too late. There’s nothing anybody can do.”
    The Kid turned away and walked toward his horse, leaving Jessica kneeling beside Harwood. Dunlap and Farnum followed him.
    When they reached the dun, the wagonmaster said, “Maybe it ain’t none of my business, but if you want to tell me what just happened, Kid, I’m listenin’.”
    “And if I don’t want to tell you?” The Kid asked.
    “Then I’d be obliged if you did anyway,” Dunlap said, his voice hardening. “I signed on to bring these folks out here. They’re my responsibility.”
    The Kid shook his head. “Not anymore they’re not. They’re here. This is Raincrow Valley. You did your job.”
    Dunlap rubbed his jaw for a second and shrugged. “Reckon you’re right about that ... but I still feel like I got a duty to look after ’em. There’s been some talk about, well, about makin’ me the mayor of these parts, if you want to call it that. There’s no town yet, but maybe there will be, one of these days.”
    “And Scott’s our friend,” Farnum added. “We want to know what happened to start this.”
    “Fine,” The Kid said. “Mrs. Ritter decided she doesn’t want to marry him anymore. He blamed me for that.”
    “Why would he do that?”
    “Because he saw her kissing me.”
    Dunlap and Farnum glanced at each other, then both gave him hard looks.
    “You say she was kissin’ you ?” Dunlap asked.
    “That’s the way it was,” The Kid replied curtly.
    Dunlap sighed and nodded. “I suppose I can believe that. I ain’t known Mrs. Ritter all that long, but she strikes me as a gal who usually does just about whatever she wants to.”
    Farnum regarded The Kid suspiciously. “You didn’t do anything to put the idea in her head?”
    “No, I didn’t,” The Kid said. “And you can believe me or not. I really don’t give a damn.”
    “I reckon I believe you,” Dunlap said with another sigh. “But no matter who’s to blame for it, this here’s a mess, and we got to do somethin’ about it.”
    “I intend to.” The Kid picked up his saddle blanket and threw it over the dun’s back, smoothing the coarse fabric.
    “Hold on there,” Dunlap exclaimed. “What’re you doin’?”
    “Getting ready to ride out.” The Kid thought it was obvious what he was doing. He shouldn’t have to explain it.
    “Tonight?”
    “I think that would be a good idea.”
    Dunlap snatched his hat off and pawed at his thinning hair in his habitual gesture when he was upset about something. “There ain’t no need to do that. Just steer clear of Scott and Mrs. Ritter. Maybe they’ll work things out between ’em and maybe they won’t, but we’ll give ’em a chance to.”
    “This isn’t that big a camp,” The Kid said as he lifted his saddle and placed it on the dun’s back. “There’s too much of a chance I’d run into one or the other of them,