“You little bastard!” he spat. “You think Wilder’s done with you? He’ll hang your name on the wind!”
Blaze’s jaw tightened. He rose from cover and fired. The bullet tore through Benton’s shoulder, spinning him sideways. His gun clattered across the floor.
Benton stumbled toward the batwing doors, blood trailing behind him. He shoved through them into the street.
“He’s getting away,” Marisol said, moving first.
Blaze followed her out.
The world outside was all sunlight and dust. Benton staggered into the open, grabbing for his gun with his good arm. Blaze’s boots hit the porch behind him.
“Don’t,” Blaze warned.
Benton spat blood and laughed hoarsely. “You ain’t got it in you, boy.”
He reached for the gun anyway.
Blaze fired once. Benton fell hard, his duster spreading around him like spilled ink.
Silence took the street. Only the wind moved, carrying dust through the blood-dark soil.
Blaze stood there with his chest heaving and his Colt still raised. He lowered it slowly, staring down at what was left of the men Wilder had sent.
Behind him, Marisol stepped into the sunlight, smoke still curling from her pistol.
“You alright?” she asked.
“I killed him,” Blaze said quietly.
“Yes.”
“He was gonna shoot me.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t even think.”
“You did what you had to,” she said.
He looked at her. “You believe that?”
She hesitated. “I have to.”
Graycloud came out of the saloon, swinging his bow over his shoulder where it belonged.
“Three down,” he said evenly. “They were all Wilder’s men.”
Blaze turned his head slightly, his eyes drawn back toward the saloon. The doors still rocked faintly, creaking in the wind. Through the gap, he could just make out the shapes inside. They were sprawled forms. Blood soaked into warped floorboards, and the air still hung hazy with gun smoke.
The piano sat silently now, one key hanging loose like a broken tooth.
He felt the weight of it settle in his chest. Those men had come for him, but seeing what was left behind still twisted something deep in his gut.
Marisol stood a few feet off, her hand resting lightly on her hip. She wasn’t looking straight at him, but he could feel her watching. Maybe she was wondering if what she’d seen in him just now was something to trust or something to fear.
Chapter 18
The desert was dying around them.
