The Killing Blow Read Free Page A

else that can do the trick, be my guest.”
    After taking a quick look around, Ordell grumbled under his breath and reclaimed his rifle. “At least let me do it.”
    â€œAll right. I’ll get back and lift to make it as easy on that gun as possible.”
    Even though Clint had made the offer jokingly, Ordell looked as if he were seriously considering sacrificing his firstborn child. He took hold of his rifle by the stock and then wedged the barrel under one corner of the wagon. The first time he pulled on the rifle, Ordell did so halfheartedly at best. Once he saw Clint straining and the lady struggling, he put more of his back into it.
    Before too long, the wagon groaned as it shifted from the spot where it had been wedged into the ground. Beads of sweat poured down both men’s faces until finally the wagon shifted again and the lady squirmed free from beneath it.
    Until now, the child in her arms had been so quiet and so still that Clint had almost forgotten it was there. Once the lady was able to get out from under the wagon, however, the child popped from her arms and scurried away.
    â€œLooks like the boy’s gonna be all right,” Ordell said.
    Clint kept his eyes on the boy and took his first good look at him. Although the boy’s face was smudged with dirt and his clothes were ripped in a few spots, he moved just fine. He looked back at Clint with a little bit of nervousness in his eyes, but he still looked alert.
    â€œYou all right?” Clint asked.
    The boy nodded and then scurried back to the lady, who wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face against the top of his head.
    Shifting his eyes toward the lady, Clint asked, “What about you? Can you get up?”
    â€œI’m not sure.” Before Clint or Ordell could get close enough to her to help, she tried getting her legs beneath her. She winced with pain a few times, and nearly fell over when she actually tried to stand. When she attempted it again, she had a man on each arm to help her up.
    Clint and Ordell brought the woman slowly to her feet and held her up rather than allowing her to support her own full weight. Together, they lowered her down a bit and picked her up again when they heard her pull in a sharp, pained breath.
    â€œWe need to get a better look at that leg,” Clint said.
    Ordell eased away from her once he saw that the lady was naturally leaning more toward Clint. “Then I might as well gather some wood and set up camp.”
    â€œCamp?” the lady asked. “But we need to get moving again. We’re expected in Westerlake.”
    â€œWhere’s Westerlake?” Clint asked.
    â€œOregon.”
    â€œThat’d normally be another day’s ride, but this isn’t exactly normal.”
    â€œMy son and I need to get there. Otherwise my family will worry.”
    â€œAnd it seems they’d be right to worry,” Clint pointed out. “Especially since we were nearly killed by a bear—”
    â€œSpeak for yerself,” Ordell muttered.
    Clint tossed the rifle he’d borrowed into Ordell’s hands. “Most of us almost got killed by a bear,” Clint corrected. “And some of us don’t have a wagon anymore.”
    â€œThe horses should still be around here,” the lady said while looking around in every direction. “Somewhere.”
    â€œAnd we should find them before long. Right now, it’s getting dark and we all could use a rest.” Holding a hand toward Ordell, Clint added, “Most of us do. We can get a fresh start in the morning. How’s that?”
    By now, the lady’s breathing had calmed and she nodded warily. “If you wouldn’t mind staying with us, I’d appreciate it.”
    â€œMy pleasure,” Clint said. “Although I can’t speak for my trapper friend over there.”
    Ordell was already wandering back into the trees with his rifle over his shoulder. “I intend on