The Deadly River by Jeff Noonan

Gohmert to rob the café and attack my wife?”
    Wards stopped and looked at Ray, a slow grin crossing his face. “Yeah, you asshole. I did that and that’s something else I owe you for. It cost me a lot of money to keep that fuckhead from squealing on me. I owe you for that too. Here’s an installment on your debts.” With that, he threw another punch at Ray’s face. Ray managed to move his head to the side, causing the punch to land mostly on his shoulder.
    Wards was smiling broadly as he continued. “They’re going to find you guys at the bottom of this hill, all beat to shit. The obituaries will say it was a bad pickup accident. But we’ll know better, won’t we?”
    He slapped the baseball bat into his palm for emphasis. Then he continued, “You and that bleeding-heart politician, Kurt Kochran, you’re both going to be dead. With the two of you out of the way, I’ll get the Forest Service to let me cut your pet cedar forest. When youlook up from hell, you’ll see me living high off the proceeds from your precious cedars.”
    Wards grabbed Ray by the collar and threw him, stumbling, back toward the road. “Jose, get the kid out of that pickup. It’s time to get serious here.”
    The swarthy Jose gestured to Lee with his free hand, the rifle still held in the crook of the other arm. “C’mon out, kid.”
    Lee shouted back to him, “I’m coming out. Just have to get this door open.” Having said that, he turned sideways and pushed the door with both feet. It flew open and he shifted to pull himself out the door, sizing up the situation as he did. The Mexican gunman was about twenty feet away, on the far left side of the road. Wards was about five feet further downhill and a bit further to the left.
    As Lee slid out of the pickup onto the hillside, his right hand unobtrusively dropped back behind the seat, where it encountered the smooth stock of the old Winchester carbine. Trying to remain unnoticed, he pulled the gun with him as he came out of the seat and into a squatting position with the door and the pickup’s engine compartment between him and the others.
    He looked up and realized that both the Mexican and his boss were watching Ray, who had suddenly fallen to the ground. In one smooth motion, Lee brought the rifle to bear and pointed it midway between the two assailants as he levered a shell into the rifle’s chamber.
    The smooth mechanical sound of the rifle brought both men to full alert. Jose swiveled and started to raise his rifle, but stopped when he realized he was staring into the barrel of Lee’s gun.
    But Wards wasn’t so easily shaken. He was stopped in mid-stride, with one hand holding the bat high in the air, planning to bring it down on Ray. He looked at Lee and laughed. “I’ve heard about you, punk. You learned about guns from John Wayne movies. You couldn’t hit a barn if you were inside it. Do you really think you could get us before we get you?”
    He laughed again and relaxed. “Jose, don’t worry. This is just a bluff. Shoot him.” With that he reached for the pistol at his waist, the bat still held high in his other hand.
    The movement from Lee was small, but instantaneous. The rifle barrel moved almost imperceptibly and a shot rang out. The baseball bat shattered just above where Wards was grasping it. Startled, the big man dropped the ruined handle and jerked his hand down as Lee levered another round into the chamber. It was Lee’s turn to laugh aloud. “That John Wayne thing was with a pistol. With this 30-30, I can shoot a mosquito off the cheeks of your filthy ass. Try me. Please?” He turned the rifle toward Jose, who immediately let his gun fall to the ground, his hands shooting into the air as high as he could reach.
    Ray, who no longer looked hurt and was suddenly standing straight, strode to where Wards was standing. Unopposed, he removed the pistol from its holster and trained it on its owner. “Get your hands in the air. Go over by the truck and stand