Arizona Ambushers Read Free Page A

decent man.”
    â€œHell.” Fargo stepped to the sorrel and held out his hand to her. “Come on. I’ll give you a boost up. Let’s get this over with.”
    â€œYou’re coming with me?”
    â€œDid you really think I wouldn’t?”
    Geraldine smiled in gratitude. “I just hope I don’t get you killed.”
    â€œMakes two of us,” Fargo said.

3
    Given their uncanny knack for finding anything dead to feed on, human or otherwise, Fargo wasn’t surprised to see over a dozen buzzards circling above the ambush site.
    â€œOh, Lord,” Geraldine Waxler exclaimed in horror. “Those are vultures.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” Fargo had his hand on his Colt. For all he knew, the attackers might be somewhere near.
    â€œIt will be ghastly, won’t it?”
    â€œIt won’t be pretty. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
    Geraldine grimly nodded. “I owe it to Hank.”
    â€œHe told me you were only married a short while.”
    â€œSix months,” Geraldine said.
    â€œThat’s all?”
    â€œWhy do you sound surprised? Because I insist on seeing his body?” Geraldine didn’t wait for him to answer. “It’s not how long someone is married that counts. It’s how deeply they love each other.”
    Fargo didn’t have much experience in that regard. His dealings with women usually consisted of a tumble under the sheets, and off he went.
    â€œI loved Hank with all my heart,” Geraldine went on. She let a few moments go by and said, “But listen to me. He’s not even buried and I talk about him as if he’s a thing of the past.”
    â€œYou’re young,” Fargo said to console her. “You’ll find someone else someday.”
    â€œI don’t want anyone else.” Geraldine frowned. “And I might not look it but I’m pushing thirty. If you think that’s young, you’re sadly mistaken.”
    â€œIt’s not old,” Fargo said.
    â€œIn my profession it was.”
    â€œWhat did you do?” Fargo asked, more to hold up his end of the conversation than anything.
    â€œNone of your damn business.”
    Puzzled by the venom in her tone, Fargo glanced over and saw her stiffen. She was staring up ahead. He looked, thinking she had seen more buzzards feeding on the dead.
    Three Apaches were standing near the overturned wagon, watching them approach. All wore headbands and moccasins, and cradled rifles.
    Fargo drew rein. Geraldine, thankfully, did the same. He was about to unlimber his Colt when he realized the Apaches weren’t resorting to their rifles. The warriors just stood there, staring.
    â€œIt’s them!” Geraldine exclaimed. “The savages who killed my Hank. Do something.”
    â€œHold on,” Fargo said.
    The Apaches showed no concern whatsoever. As casually asif they were on a Sunday stroll, they turned and went around the wagon.
    Fargo waited for them to reappear at the other end or to see them climb the slope. But they did neither.
    â€œWhat are you waiting for?” Geraldine demanded. “Go after them.”
    â€œThere are three of them and one of me.” Fargo wasn’t about to rush into their gun muzzles.
    â€œWe can’t let them get away.”
    â€œWe?” Fargo was looking for sign of more warriors.
    â€œDamn you,” Geraldine spat, and the next moment her derringer was in her hand, and she jabbed her heels.
    â€œHell.” Fargo took off after her. He caught up just as she reached the wagon. Lunging, he grabbed her bridle but she was out the saddle before he could stop her, and darted around the wagon. “Don’t!” he cried, afraid he would hear the blast of gunfire and see her crumple to earth. But no shots rang out.
    Vaulting down, Fargo ran after her.
    Geraldine had stopped and was looking around in confusion. “There’s no one here. Where did they get