Page 102 of The Cowboy and the Stray

Calder put his hand on my shoulder. It was warm and steady. I looked at him, and I was home.

I stood, aimed the Ruger at Lance’s chest, and pulled the trigger.

The recoil nearly took the gun out of my hand. The shot caught him just above the left nipple, right where the heart is supposed to be. He staggered but didn’t fall. Instead, he laughed, a wet, bubbly sound.

I kept the gun on Lance, inching closer with each step. My lungs were too tight to talk.

Lance’s head lolled up. Blood smeared his lips, but he was still grinning. “You always wanted the last word,” he said. “Now’s your chance.”

I stopped a yard away. The pistol wavered, but I made myself hold it steady. He didn’t try to raise his gun.

“Tell me,” I said. “How did you keep finding me? How did you know I’d be at the bar?”

He spat blood onto the grass. “You really want to know?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

He coughed, almost a laugh. “GPS pinged in this town. I checked every damn motel, every diner, every dumpy bar. Found your car at the tow place. Bar was just luck.” His eyes flicked to Calder. “He’s a real prize, isn’t he?”

I didn’t answer. I could see him fading fast. The wound was ugly, lots of red soaking the fabric, spreading slow. But he wasn’t done yet.

“You think I didn’t know this was a trap?” he said, looking up at me.

“Did you?”

He grinned wider, blood in his teeth. “Course I did. I just didn’t think you’d be the one to kill me.”

He made a move, maybe for the gun, maybe just a twitch, and I fired again. The bullet took him under the arm. He made a sound like a deflated tire. I knew, if the novels I liked to sometimes read were correct, that there was an artery in the armpit that would bleed out very quickly.

I stood over him, gun still trained, waiting for him to twitch. He didn’t.

The world went quiet, except for the buzzing in my head. I let my arm drop, then my knees. I sat in the dust next to his body, not feeling much of anything.

Calder sank beside me. “You okay?”

“No,” I said. “But I will be.”

He leaned back, closing his eyes. “Good,” he said. “Because I can’t do this alone.”

I sat beside him, feeling the grass dig into my ass, sweat cooling against my back. I listened to the others cleaning up. Ash cussing, Buck dragging something heavy.

It was over. I really thought I’d feel something more about killing Lance. I’d worried if it had to be me, if I was the one in the end who did it, that I’d feel guilt. Maybe one day I would. Right now I just felt relief.

“What now?” I asked.

He squeezed my hand, and even with the blood and the dirt and the sweat, it felt right.

“Now we start over,” he said.

I smiled, just a little. “That’s a terrible idea.”

He grinned back. “Best one I ever had.”

We stayed there, leaning into each other, watching the day begin.

I wasn’t scared of the future. I just wanted to see what happened next.

47. CALDER