Texas Tornado by Jon Sharpe Page A

“Neither of us put lead in you, mister.”
    â€œThe other gal,” the man barely got out. “The one with brown hair and freckles.” He groaned and weakly placed a hand over his belly. “God, I hurt.”
    â€œBrown hair and freckles?” Carmody repeated, incredulous. “Alice Thorn?”
    â€œShe shot me with no warning,” the townsman said. “From off in the grass.”
    Fargo stepped to the edge of the road and discovered a flattened trail where a horse had emerged. He realized that Alice must have been paralleling the road the whole time. Which was why he didn’t find her tracks. It was clever. Very clever.
    â€œI never saw her,” the townsman gasped. “I think she made her horse lie down and picked me off when I got close.”
    Fargo came back over. “You’re with the posse?”
    The man managed to nod. “They sent me on ahead. My horse was faster than theirs. I was to find you and get word back to them.” He closed his eyes and groaned louder. “God, now I’m cold. I’m not long for this world, am I?”
    Carmody glanced at Fargo, and Fargo shook his head.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said to the townsman. “I never wanted anyone hurt.”
    â€œThen you’re not like that other one,” the man said. “She stood over me and smiled and told me I got what I deserved.”
    Carmody said, “You’re not our enemy. The mayor is. Him and his tin-star flunkies.”
    â€œYour friend aims to kill them, too. Her and that shiny rifle of hers.”
    Fargo frowned.
    â€œHow do you know?” Carmody asked, but the man didn’t seem to hear. Gently shaking his arm, she asked it again.
    His eyes opened partway. Wearily, he said, “She told me, is how. She stood right there and said she intends to kill Mayor Stoddard and the marshal and everyone else who had a hand in putting her behind bars. She even aims to kill the mayor’s daughter.”
    â€œHell,” Fargo said.
    The townsman shivered. “I asked her to put me out of my misery, but she refused. She said it was right I suffer. Me and all the rest she’s after.”
    â€œYou think you know someone,” Carmody said, more to herself than to either of them.
    â€œI don’t want to die. I honest to God do not—” The townsman gazed at the sky, said simply, “Oh!” and breathed his last.
    â€œHe never told us his name,” Carmody said. “Do we bury him?”
    Fargo had a more important matter to tend to. “I’m heading for town.”
    Rising, Carmody clasped his arm. “What in hell for?”
    â€œYou heard him,” Fargo said. “She killed him with my Henry.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo it’s
my
Henry.”
    â€œWhat difference does that make? You can always buy another. Why risk your life going back there when you don’t have to?”
    Fargo climbed on the Ovaro. It would be pointless to try and overtake Alice. She had too much of a lead. He held to a walk and chafed at having to do so.
    Carmody quickly caught up. “You didn’t answer me.”
    â€œWhat do you know about her?”
    â€œAlice? She didn’t talk a lot. Not about herself, anyhow. She was raised on a farm, as I recall.”
    â€œThat’s all?”
    â€œShe hunted a lot when she was a little girl. Meat for the table, mostly. Rabbits and squirrels and such. Once she shot a black bear.”
    â€œSo she’s damn good with a gun.”
    â€œAnd she can ride as good as a man. She bragged as much.”
    â€œIt gets better and better,” Fargo said.
    â€œYou wouldn’t know it to look at her,” Carmody said, “but she’s as tough as they come.”
    â€œIs she as good as her word?”
    â€œI never knew her to tell a lie, if that’s what you mean.”
    â€œNo,” Fargo said. “Will she carry out her threat to kill Stoddard and