A murmur stirred through the townsfolk watching from across the street. Muldoon heard it, too. His eyes narrowed. “You’re a fugitive,” Muldoon said, louder now. “Busted out of my jail, took up with savages, and brought war to this valley. You think you can just stroll back into town like nothing happened?”
Anthony’s hand twitched near his belt, but he didn’t draw. Not yet. “War came to this valley long before me,” Anthony replied. “And Vanburgh brought it, not the Shoshone. Not me.”
Muldoon’s lip curled. “Vanburgh? Man was half this town’s bread and butter. He kept money flowing, kept law and order in place. He—”
“He’s dead,” Anthony cut him off, his voice sharp enough to slice the air. “Put a bullet in him myself.”
That landed like a thunderclap. The whispers surged, people leaning in from doorways and balconies. The sheriff’s face darkened, the color rising up his neck. “You’re lying.”
Anthony shook his head slowly. “Vanburgh’s gone. Ridge is safe. His men scattered or dead. He won’t be coming back to pull your strings anymore.”
Muldoon’s jaw clenched, his hand shifting closer to his Colt. “Careful what you say next, Hawk. Men who talk that bold tend to end up dead quick in Silver Cross.”
Anthony raised his chin, his voice steady but louder now, so the whole street could hear.
“The judge in Denver knows everything,” he said. “He knows about Vanburgh’s lies and his forged claims. Knows I’m the rightful owner of Eagle Rock. Papers are in order, deeds are clean. You try to hang me on some trumped-up charge, Sheriff, and the law comes swinging back for you.”
Muldoon froze.
The silence from the crowd was deafening. Anthony could almost hear their breath hitch as the words sank in.
“You...” Muldoon started, his voice low and thick. “You dare stand there—”
“I dare,” Anthony snapped. “And I’ll do more. Everyone here knows what you’ve been. Vanburgh’s shadow. His pet. You silenced voices, sold justice for coin. That ends now. And if there’s any fairness left in this world, you’ll swing for it.”
That last word hung heavy, cruel as a death knell.
Swing.
Muldoon’s face twisted, rage and panic warring behind his eyes. His meaty hand dropped onto the butt of his gun. “You son of a bitch!”
Anthony didn’t move, though his fingers itched near his revolver. His voice dropped, just loud enough for Muldoon but still carrying to the crowd.
“You afraid, Sheriff?” he asked. “Afraid now that your master’s gone, you’ll have to stand on your own two feet? Afraid the law you hid behind will finally notice the blood on your hands?”
Muldoon stepped forward onto the top stair, eyes blazing. “You think killing Vanburgh makes you a hero? Makes you untouchable?” His laugh was a jagged bark. “You’re a murderer, Hawk. Always were. I’ll cut you down right here and call it justice.”
Anthony’s shoulders squared, his breath steady. “Then try.”
The sheriff’s hand twitched.
The crowd leaned in, the entire street holding its breath like the desert before a storm.
Anthony’s pulse hammered in his ears. He could see it all. Muldoon’s heavy frame coiled to draw, the sweat slicking his brow, the slight tremor of anger in his hand.
One wrong twitch, and Silver Cross would see blood on its main street.
Anthony’s gaze stayed fixed on Muldoon, watching the sheriff’s hand twitch near his Colt Paterson revolver. The man’s face was red, and his eyes were blazing with fury. But he wasn’t moving. Not a single finger on the trigger.
“Figures,” Anthony muttered under his breath. “You’re all bark, no bite.” He exhaled slowly, tension coiling down his spine.
He started to step back, sliding his boots across the dust of the street. The townsfolk stirred nervously, but none dared interfere. Muldoon’s glare followed him, every ounce of the sheriff’s fury simmering. Still, there was nothing.
Anthony kept walking, keeping his back loose but alert. He knew the sheriff wasn’t going to shoot. He never had been able to. Too many teeth sunk into him, too many deals for Vanburgh’s gold and influence had made him cautious. Muldoon’s menace was all posturing.
Then a shout cut across the boardwalk, sharp and high: “Get him! Don’t let him leave!”
Anthony’s eyes snapped toward the sheriff’s office. The doors burst open, and a dozen of Vanburgh’s men poured out.
