The Killing Blow Read Free Page B

stuffing my gourd with fresh bear meat tonight. If you folks intend on building a good-sized cooking fire, I don’t mind sharing.”
    Clint made sure the lady was situated and then rubbed his hands together. “All right, then. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a picnic.”

FOUR
    It wasn’t long before the sun was on its way down, but the shadows grew long way before that. The spot where Clint and Ordell set up the camp was a little ways off the trail and nestled within a thick batch of trees. The remains of the bear had been covered with enough dirt to keep the smell away, but the remains of the wagon weren’t so easy to hide.
    Half of the cart had been splintered and damaged beyond repair. The other half had been stripped away and the wood was put to plenty of other uses. One of those was to feed the large fire that was blazing brightly in the middle of a stone circle. Large chunks of meat were stretched over the flames, filling the air with the mouth-watering scent of dinner.
    Clint walked into the camp, leading three horses by their reins. One of them was his own Darley Arabian stallion. Another belonged to Ordell and the third was still twitchy and jumping at every snap and crackle coming from the campfire.
    â€œWhere’s Petey?” the lady asked.
    Clint looked around and immediately spotted the young boy, so he figured that wasn’t the child’s name. “Petey?”
    â€œThe other horse,” she said. “He’s a dark gray with—”
    â€œOh, the horse,” Clint said. “He was hurt pretty badly.”
    â€œBut I saw him run away once the harness was broken.”
    â€œHe didn’t make it far. I found him with one broken leg and another that looked pretty twisted up. I had to . . . uh . . .” When he saw the child looking directly at him, Clint started struggling for a more delicate choice of words.
    â€œYou had to shoot him,” the boy said, beating Clint to the punch. Looking to the lady, he added, “It’s best that way, you know.”
    â€œYes, sweetie,” she replied while rubbing the top of the boy’s head. “I know.”
    Clint sat down at the edge of the fire and nodded to Ordell. The bigger man was sitting on a stump and leaning toward the fire so he could tend to the cooking. The lady and the young boy were on the opposite side of the fire.
    Now that there weren’t any wild animals about or wagons that needed to be lifted, Clint actually had a moment to get a close look at the two folks who’d called him onto this section of trail in the first place.
    The boy looked to be somewhere between eight and ten years old. He had bright blond hair and even brighter blue eyes. Although the blood had been wiped from his face, he still wore his ripped jacket proudly as if mimicking the tattered appearance of the big man cooking the bear meat. Despite weighing less than one of the wagon’s busted wheels, the boy held up pretty well after the crash and ensuing bear attack. In fact, the little guy seemed to be enjoying himself as if this were just another camping trip.
    The woman had darker blond hair and a slightly darker hue to her skin. Part of that seemed to come from the sun, but there was also something else that gave her a naturally exotic look. Her dark brown eyes smoldered like embers in the fire and her soft lips had yet to curl up into a smile.
    â€œNow that I know the horse’s name,” Clint said, “perhaps I should know yours.”
    Finally, the lady smiled and she lowered her head as a blush found its way onto her cheeks. “It’s Allison Stapp. This is my son.”
    â€œJoseph,” the boy said, beating her to the punch. He stood up straight and stuck his hand out toward Clint.
    â€œClint Adams,” he said while shaking the boy’s hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
    When he saw the Stapps looking in his direction, the bigger man leaning toward the fire said,