Death in the Desert by J. R. Roberts Page A

shots.
    â€œDamn it!” he swore.
    He rushed to the front doors and swung them open. As he stepped out, he saw four men at one end of the street, carrying guns. At the other end, Kathy and Emily were on their horse. He was closer to them than he was to the four gunmen, so he made a snap decision.
    He stepped out into the street, drew his gun, and shouted, “Kathy! Here!”
•   •   •
    Kathy saw Clint, saw the open front doors of city hall, and knew what she had to do. She wheeled the horse around and kicked it with her heels.
•   •   •
    Steve Harwick saw the man come out of city hall and step into the street.
    â€œThat’s gotta be Adams,” he called out. “Get ’im!”
    The four of them turned their attention—and their guns—toward him.
•   •   •
    Clint laid down covering fire for Kathy as she rode the horse back toward him. Mostly he was making noise to scatter the four men. Kathy rode the horse right past him and into city hall. Clint then backed into the building and slammed the doors shut.
    He turned and helped both Kathy and Emily down from the horse.
    â€œNow what?” Kathy asked.
    â€œNow get your rifle,” he said. “We have to keep those fellas out of here.”
•   •   •
    Harwick and his men fired at Clint, but when the Gunsmith began to fire back, they scattered for cover. As soon as he backed into city hall and closed the door, they came out into the open again.
    â€œNow we have him,” Steve said.
    â€œYeah,” Ned said, “but he’s in that building. How do we get him out without getting killed?”
    â€œWell,” Steve said, “we have several options that might work, before we try the one that definitely will work.”
    â€œWhich one is that?” Ned asked.
    â€œBurning them out.”

THIRTY-ONE
    â€œWhat do we do?” Kathy asked.
    â€œFirst we have to barricade the back door,” Clint said. “Go to that window and keep an eye out. If they start to come close, fire at them. I’ll be right back.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œIt’ll be all right,” he assured her. “They’ll take some time deciding what to do.”
    â€œClint!” she called as he started away.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œCan they get in by way of the roof?”
    â€œThis is the tallest building on this side of the street,” he said. “That’s not an option. Watch that window.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Clint rushed to the back door, looked around for something to block it with. He tried a couple of rooms, found a piece of furniture he thought would do the trick. It was a small wooden bookcase that fit snugly in the hall. Once it was in front of the door, the door could not be opened.
    He went back to the front hall. Emily was sitting on the stairs with her face in her hands, her elbows on her knees.
    â€œAre you all right?” he asked.
    â€œI wanted to go for a ride,” she said.
    â€œI know you did,” he said, “and you will, it’ll just be . . . later.”
    He stopped, took a step back, and saw that there was a small space beneath the stairs.
    â€œEmily?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œCome here, please.”
    She came down the steps and stood in front of him.
    â€œWere you scared when those men were shooting?” he asked.
    She hesitated, then said, “Yes.”
    â€œWell, they may start shooting again,” Clint explained. “I want you to get under here. If they start shooting again, you’ll be safe. You won’t have to be afraid.”
    She stepped forward and looked under the steps.
    â€œIt’ll be like a cave,” she said. “My own special cave.”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    She started to get under, then stopped and looked up at him.
    â€œBut I’ll still be afraid that you or