“I said, do you think you could take me?” Henry said, and reached up and shoved him.
Cole’s back hit the door.
He shot a palm straight out, caught Henry in the chest, and shoved him back, almost knocking him to the ground.
And that was it.
Henry came flying toward him, winging his fists.
Cole lifted his arms and blocked the punches easily, but then Henry dipped low and to the outside and slammed a powerful hook into his side.
Cole grunted, then grunted again as Henry hit him in the ribs on the other side.
He shoved out with both hands, meaning to push the little man off, but as he did, Henry’s fist caught him hard in the mouth.
He staggered into the door again, and Henry surged forward, pounding away with his fists. He was quick and very powerful for his size.
Cole was through playing around.
He threw his first punch, a short right uppercut to the jaw that popped Henry’s head straight up from behind his guard, then followed it a split second later with a blistering left hook that caught the short man on the point of his chin and dropped him hard to the ground.
Cole looked up at the others, who still sat their horses, watching.
Some looked amused. Others looked embarrassed. A few looked like they were ready to do something.
This was his only chance to sway them, Cole knew. “I didn’t want any trouble. You men saw that. He started it. Now, clear on out of here. This is finished as far as I’m concerned.”
They looked at him for a second, everything hanging in the balance.
Then Henry punched him in the leg.
It was a ridiculous thing to do, the fallen man reaching up to punch him in the thigh.
Cole glanced down, ready to kick Henry, and saw the man grinning up at him.
Then his eyes flicked to his own leg, and he realized that Henry hadn’t punched him.
The hilt of a knife stuck out of Cole’s thigh.
Only then did he feel the sick, urgent throb of the wound.
At the same instant, he knew everything had changed. He couldn’t talk his way out of this, couldn’t even beat Henry into submission.
This was life or death.
He lashed out with a boot, meaning to kick Henry in the face, but the grinning man rolled away and came up with a pistol.
At the same time, something crashed into the back of Cole’s head, filling his skull with light and making his legs wobble. He staggered forward, knowing Tripp had hit him with something.
“Get the woman and the gold!” Henry ordered, and riders came forward with eager eyes.
Cole had to get inside, had to get his rifle.
He turned in that direction.
Tripp blocked his path, holding a revolver by the barrel and lifted it, meaning to strike him again.
Cole lashed out with a blistering right that smashed Tripp’s nose and sent him to the ground in a loose heap.
