Lawman from Nogales (9781101544747) Read Online Free PDF

rudeness?”
    â€œI’ll certainly try,” Sam said, staring up the ladder toward the hayloft.
    â€œThank you. That’s all I ask,” Erin said. She climbed the ladder ahead of him. With good manners, the Ranger looked away until she had stepped over into the hayloft. Then he followed, Colt in hand, eyes upward.
    Standing side by side with the Ranger on the hay-strewn plank flooring, Erin gestured a nod across the loft toward a banked pile of loose hay where her brother lay partially visible on a worn blanket. His two bare feet stuck out, one purple-veined and the color of old ivory, the other one swollen over twice its size, the purple-green color of fruit gone bad.
    â€œBram . . . ?” she called out quietly. “It’s me. I have a lawman with me. But he’s our friend. Please don’t shoot.”
    She looked at Sam and squeezed his forearm reassuringly.
    â€œDon’t worry. I don’t think he can even lift a gun,” she whispered.
    Sam caught the smell of fever and sickness as they stepped forward.
    They stopped and looked down at the young man’s pale drawn face and saw a fly crawling across the tip of his nose. Erin immediately threw her hands to her mouth and let out a muffled gasp.
    â€œOh no, Bram . . . ,” she whispered into her cupped hands.
    Sam saw the big Starr revolver lying close to the side of the young man’s head, his right hand lying near it. He saw the streak of blood and brain matter lying splattered across the hay and on the plank wall three feet away.
    He put an arm around the grieving woman’s waist and gently turned her away from the grisly scene.
    â€œStand over here, Erin,” he said in a lowered voice. “I’ll cover him up.”
    He stepped toward what was left of the young woman’s brother and pulled enough of the blanket from under the body to lay it over the dead man’s face. Reaching down, he lifted Bram’s gun hand away from the side of his head and tucked it to his side. Then he picked up the gun, checked it and shoved it down into his belt.
    When he stepped back over to Erin, he glanced out through the open loft window and saw Defoe and his band of drinkers walking toward the barn, but he saw no raging anger in their demeanor. Their leader, Henri Defoe, knew that gunfighting in the street was bad for business. He must have decided to settle the men down before more trouble erupted.
    That’s good , Sam thought. The woman would need some time to bury her dead brother properly. Riding out after the Gun Killers would have to wait until tomorrow. Until Bram Donovan was in the ground. He sighed to himself and lowered his Colt into its holster. Behind him Erin cried quietly into her hands.
    All right . . . he could do that, for the woman’s sake.
    Â 
    The Ranger and Erin met Defoe and his drinkers at the barn doors. Defoe held his real right hand hidden inside his coat on the holstered Lefaucheux pistol. His false right arm hung loosely down his right side.
    â€œHere he is, men, just like I thought,” Defoe said as the Ranger and Erin stepped out of the barn.
    â€œBack off, Defoe,” Sam said menacingly. He wanted peace, but he didn’t want to appear that he had to come asking Defoe for it, hat in hand. “The killing is over in Wild Roses, unless you’ve come looking for more.”
    Defoe noted the Ranger’s Colt standing at rest in his holster.
    â€œThe only killing here has come from your hand, Burrack,” Defoe said. “If you want more we can certainly see that you get it.”
    Sam knew the Frenchman would posture a little for the benefit of his cantina crowd, but he saw no danger now that everybody had taken some time to cool their tempers and take their bark off.
    â€œI came here looking for the Torres brothers and their Gun Killers, Defoe,” he said. “I drew a Gun Killer out and I killed him. He tried to ambush me.”
    â€œYou also killed