The Fall of Rome Read Online Free PDF Page A

men rose, guns in hand, at the sound of two short and one long bird caw. A warning from their lookout--the cantankerous hermit who owned this secluded shack. Brady had bought his hospitality and silence before. It helped that the crotchety coot held a grudge against the law. His signal was clear. Visitors. Three seconds later, Snapper burst in, filling the decrepit cabin with nervous energy and a dose of afternoon sun.
    “Posse?” Brady asked.
    “Boyd and Itchy,” he countered. “But they ain’t alone.”
    He peered past Snapper through the open door, saw his men riding up, noted the trail-weary cowboy lagging behind, his horse lathered and winded. The man raised a hand in greeting, his index finger a knuckle shorter than the rest. “I’ll be damned.”
    “If that don’t beat all,” said Amos.
    Mule spit. “What’s he doin’ here?”
    Bulls-Eye wondered the same. He sidestepped Snapper and moved outside, intent on knowing what had caused his cousin to defy him. Elroy was a lot of things. Stupid wasn’t one of them.
    Boyd and Itchy dismounted first.
    “We rode up on him as he was ridin’ through the hidden pass. Couldn’t talk him into vamoosing,” Boyd said. “Woulda plugged him, but he’s your kin and . . .”
    “What?”
    “You’ll wanna hear what he has to say, boss,” said Itchy. Curiosity piqued, Brady noted his cousin, who, so far, had had the good sense to sit quiet. “What about you?” he asked of the men he’d sent off to Yuma. “What’s the news?”
    “Name’s Tori Adams,” Boyd said. “She’s an entertainer. A lawman’s escorting her to Phoenix.”
    “Specifically, and you ain’t gonna believe this,” Itchy said, “to London Garrett. Guess she’s gonna perform in that new saloon of his.”
    Brady clenched and unclenched his fists. The gang knew about his beef with the Garretts. Hell, they all had a beef. Rome and Boston had tracked them more than once on behalf of Wells Fargo. But Brady’s grudge ran deeper. Years ago, London Garrett had barred him from his family’s highfalutin opera house. The slight still rankled. But it was Rome whom he hated with a vengeance. He’d celebrated for three days and nights when he’d read Wells Fargo had fired the famous brothers. Had noted with interest the gossip regarding their current antics and whereabouts. Good to keep track of your enemies. Now it seemed a new enemy, Miss Tori Adams, was in cahoots with the old.
    Brady stabbed a fresh cheroot between his teeth. “Have me a mind to ride north.”
    “You can’t be serious,” said Cody from behind.
    “You don’t want to go to Phoenix, Jed.” This from his cousin who finally slid from his saddle and approached real careful-like. “You want to ride south, to Casa Bend.”
    “Never heard of it.”
    “Not surprised,” said Elroy. “Barely a one-horse town.” Brady fired up his tobacco and studied the man through a cloud of blue smoke. Elroy had always been on the wiry side, but the man had lost so much weight, if he turned sideways, he’d disappear. His clothes were ratty; his boots wore thin. He was pert near unrecognizable. Killing him might’ve been kinder than kicking him out of the gang. Surely ill luck had plagued his cousin a good long while. “I’ll bite. What’s in Casa Bend?”
    Elroy had always been good for a tall tale and a laugh, but just now he was dead-dog serious. “Kat Simmons.”
    The name burned through Brady’s body, igniting dormant frustration and desire. He didn’t flinch, but his men gave him space. All except Cody. He didn’t know about Brady’s obsession with Kat. This past year, he hadn’t mentioned her name because he’d given her up for dead. It was that or go loco . Rumors that she’d married another man . . . Just thinking about it spurred murderous thoughts. “If you’re wrong, Elroy--”
    “I’m not, It’s her.”
    He turned to his men. “Get ready to ride. I want that necklace, but the skinny bitch will have to wait until