help her. They felt sure
that the end was near for all of them now.
Reina saw the cold-blooded, murderous glint appear
in Duke's eyes as he glared at her, and when he raised
his gun and took another step toward her, she knew she
had to shoot at him again or die; Once more, her finger
tightened on the trigger and the explosion of gunfire
deafened her.
As Duke had taken that fateful stride toward Reina,
he'd moved into Clay's range, and Clay fired. He
watched in satisfaction as the outlaw was dropped in his
tracks.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in his upper arm, Clay
got to his feet and ran back to his horse to mount up. He
knew he had to get down there and make sure that the
desperado was dead and that the women were all right.
Putting his heels to his steed's sides, he raced down the
incline to the stage.
Reina had squeezed off her shot at exactly the same
time Clay had fired, and she'd watched in horror as
Duke collapsed and lay unmoving in the dirt. When she
realized that he wasn't getting up again, all the tension
that had been sustaining her drained away. Her hands
dropped weakly to her sides, and the gun, suddenly too
heavy to hold, slipped from her trembling fingers.
Both Ruth and Melissa had shrieked as the sounds of
the gunplay erupted around them, but when they saw
that Reina was unhurt, they cried out in tearful joy.
"Sister! Thank God you're all right!" They ran to
embrace her in thankful excitement.
"But I...I didn't..." Reina stared at the dead
outlaw in disbelief, watching the growing stain of blood
that was spreading across the back of his shirt. She
realized in some confusion that she was not the one
who'd shot Duke at all. He had been shot From some where else... somewhere behind him. "I couldn't have
...I mustn't have..."
Fred hurried out to join them, dropping to his knees
beside Vic to make sure he was dead.
"Look!" Melissa's urgent cry drew their attention to
the rider coming down the hillside, heading in their
direction.
Fearing more trouble, Fred quickly snatched up his
earlier discarded rifle as he turned to face the unknown
man. Reina and Ruth, still standing close together,
turned to watch his approach, too.
Their savior was a big man, and Reina felt a shiver
run down her spine as she studied him from afar. He
was dressed all in black, from the shirt that stretched
tautly across the powerful width of his broad chest and
shoulders to the tight-fitting pants that clung to his
lean, muscular thighs. He wore his black Stetson pulled
down low over his forehead so that it shadowed his eyes,
effectively shielding them from her probing gaze, and
the rest of his features were equally hidden beneath a
slightly overgrown beard that was the same color as his
dark brown hair. He sat his horse easily, almost as if he'd
been born to the saddle, and he still held his gun at
readiness as he rode toward them. Reina thought the
man looked savagely dangerous; yet at the same time,
she realized that he had to be a good man or he wouldn't
have bothered to help them.
"He dead?" Clay called out brusquely to Fred, gesturing at Vic as he rode in. He did not look at the women
yet, but kept his gaze riveted on the outlaws. He knew
better than to trust the likes of Duke and Vic, and he
would not relax his guard until he was sure they were no
longer among the living.
"This one is," Fred answered.
"Good," his response was curt as he reined in close
beside Duke's inert form. His movements were slow and
deliberate as he dismounted and then knelt down beside
the outlaw and to check and see if he was still breathing.
"Is he...?" Reina finally managed to ask in a voice
that was tight with strangled emotions.
Clay heard the upset in the nun's voice, and he
hastened to reassure her as he turned the dead man over
for a better look at him. "Yes, Sister, he's good and
dead. But you don't have to worry. It wasn't your shot
that hit him. It was mine."
"Thank
that the end was near for all of them now.
Reina saw the cold-blooded, murderous glint appear
in Duke's eyes as he glared at her, and when he raised
his gun and took another step toward her, she knew she
had to shoot at him again or die; Once more, her finger
tightened on the trigger and the explosion of gunfire
deafened her.
As Duke had taken that fateful stride toward Reina,
he'd moved into Clay's range, and Clay fired. He
watched in satisfaction as the outlaw was dropped in his
tracks.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in his upper arm, Clay
got to his feet and ran back to his horse to mount up. He
knew he had to get down there and make sure that the
desperado was dead and that the women were all right.
Putting his heels to his steed's sides, he raced down the
incline to the stage.
Reina had squeezed off her shot at exactly the same
time Clay had fired, and she'd watched in horror as
Duke collapsed and lay unmoving in the dirt. When she
realized that he wasn't getting up again, all the tension
that had been sustaining her drained away. Her hands
dropped weakly to her sides, and the gun, suddenly too
heavy to hold, slipped from her trembling fingers.
Both Ruth and Melissa had shrieked as the sounds of
the gunplay erupted around them, but when they saw
that Reina was unhurt, they cried out in tearful joy.
"Sister! Thank God you're all right!" They ran to
embrace her in thankful excitement.
"But I...I didn't..." Reina stared at the dead
outlaw in disbelief, watching the growing stain of blood
that was spreading across the back of his shirt. She
realized in some confusion that she was not the one
who'd shot Duke at all. He had been shot From some where else... somewhere behind him. "I couldn't have
...I mustn't have..."
Fred hurried out to join them, dropping to his knees
beside Vic to make sure he was dead.
"Look!" Melissa's urgent cry drew their attention to
the rider coming down the hillside, heading in their
direction.
Fearing more trouble, Fred quickly snatched up his
earlier discarded rifle as he turned to face the unknown
man. Reina and Ruth, still standing close together,
turned to watch his approach, too.
Their savior was a big man, and Reina felt a shiver
run down her spine as she studied him from afar. He
was dressed all in black, from the shirt that stretched
tautly across the powerful width of his broad chest and
shoulders to the tight-fitting pants that clung to his
lean, muscular thighs. He wore his black Stetson pulled
down low over his forehead so that it shadowed his eyes,
effectively shielding them from her probing gaze, and
the rest of his features were equally hidden beneath a
slightly overgrown beard that was the same color as his
dark brown hair. He sat his horse easily, almost as if he'd
been born to the saddle, and he still held his gun at
readiness as he rode toward them. Reina thought the
man looked savagely dangerous; yet at the same time,
she realized that he had to be a good man or he wouldn't
have bothered to help them.
"He dead?" Clay called out brusquely to Fred, gesturing at Vic as he rode in. He did not look at the women
yet, but kept his gaze riveted on the outlaws. He knew
better than to trust the likes of Duke and Vic, and he
would not relax his guard until he was sure they were no
longer among the living.
"This one is," Fred answered.
"Good," his response was curt as he reined in close
beside Duke's inert form. His movements were slow and
deliberate as he dismounted and then knelt down beside
the outlaw and to check and see if he was still breathing.
"Is he...?" Reina finally managed to ask in a voice
that was tight with strangled emotions.
Clay heard the upset in the nun's voice, and he
hastened to reassure her as he turned the dead man over
for a better look at him. "Yes, Sister, he's good and
dead. But you don't have to worry. It wasn't your shot
that hit him. It was mine."
"Thank
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