Dorothy Garlock Read Free Page B

“the only thing you’ll do is keep your mouth shut and not move an inch. If you want to test me, go ahead. I swear that I’ll shoot you like the dog you are.”
    “Go to hell!”
    “Hallie,” Pearl said, ignoring Chester’s curse, “get Mary back on her feet and start for the wagon. I’ll be right behind you.”
    “Ya sure as hell better worry about me, damn ya!” Chester shouted, any fear for his own safety giving way to anger. His hands clenched tightly, he suddenly sprang toward them, the look in his eyes one of madness. But before Hallie could so much as scream, Pearl steadied the rifle and fired.
    The bullet tore into the soft flesh of Chester’s left thigh, and the man howled in pain. He crashed to the ground, his hands leaping to the wound, crimson blood pouring out from between his fingers and staining his pants. The agony that filled his face was mixed with surprise at the fact that Pearl had the guts to shoot him.
    “I told ya, you stupid son of a bitch,” she said coldly.
    Chester’s only answer was an unintelligible cry.
    Hallie was dimly aware of Pearl’s hand on her shoulder; once again she had been struck dumb by the sound of gunfire. Blinking quickly, she looked into her friend’s eyes through a haze of tears. She helped Mary off the ground and they followed Pearl, putting one foot in front of the other, each step taking them farther and farther away from the cabin and Chester’s cries of pain.
    “What are we going to do now?” Hallie finally managed to ask.
    For a long while, Pearl was silent. It wasn’t until the last of Chester’s shouts had faded into the air like morning mist that she said, “We’ll do what we came here to do—take Mary and leave Whiskey Bend forever.”

Chapter Two
    E LI MORGAN WAS nervous.
    Shifting uncomfortably on his wicker train seat, he peered out the window as the Colorado countryside sped by. In the bright summer afternoon, wildflowers dotted the wide plains with bright yellows, whites, oranges, and reds. Along the many burbling rivers and creeks, tall elms, oaks, and pine trees spread their broad branches, soaring high into the crisp blue, cloudless sky. In the distance, mountains rose into the heavens, their crowns capped with snow although the summer was in full sway. He spotted a wild stallion as it lifted its head in curiosity at the noisy locomotive before returning to its grassy meal. These were the familiar sights of home, a home that he had not seen for four long years.
    “Four years,” he muttered to himself.
    The fact that he was now able to take a train to Bison City was a testament to just
how much
things had changed since he’d left. Even though the train constantly tossed him from side to side and the passenger car held heat like an oven, it was a remarkably quick way to travel. The new route, a direct line running from Denver to Cheyenne, had only recently been completed. Hundreds of miles of track—iron rails and thick wooden ties—cut through the countryside. Among the many familiar town names there were even a couple of new places that had sprung up alongside the tracks.
    Eli was also well aware that he himself had undergone a great change. While his thick, coal-black hair, piercing green eyes, and sturdy chin were the same as when he had left, much else about him was different. His tall, lanky frame had filled out dramatically; underneath his white shirt, taut muscles spread across his broadened shoulders. As he placed his black suit coat on the empty seat next to him, he was aware that his way of thinking had been transformed by his time as a member of the United States army. However, he had always been scrappy and hardworking, determined to make the most of what life had to offer. Such effort and devotion had paid dividends. Four years earlier, he had left Bison City little more than a boy. Now he returned as a man.
    Still, concern lined his face. Pulling a thin, worn slip of paper from the inside pocket of his coat, he