To Reap and to Sow Read Free

hadn’t even heard Clint clear leather.
    â€œYou just lost that free drink I offered,” Clint said. “Take your hand from that pistol before you lose something else.”
    Mark wanted to draw and fire with every fiber of his being. That much was plain to see in his eyes and the anxious twitching in his face. But no matter how worked up he was, Mark wasn’t blind. He could see that he was beaten and wasn’t even close to taking his own gun from its holster. Swallowing his pride along with his anger, Mark opened both hands and held them up to either side.
    â€œGood,” Clint said without shifting his aim. “Now get out of here.”
    Slowly, Mark backed away. “I’ll be seeing you again,” he grumbled.
    â€œIt’s best if you don’t.”
    With every step he took away from Clint, Mark seemed to grow a bit more confident. “I’ll see you again. Count on it.”
    Clint watched Mark carefully without paying any mind to the smoke he was blowing. Only when Mark turned a corner and disappeared from the hallway did he holster the Colt.
    â€œAre you all—” was all Clint managed to say before Lynn rushed up to wrap her arms around him and plant a kiss on his mouth that curled his toes.

THREE
    Clint walked into the Red Eye Saloon later that night. After riding all day long to make it most of the way through Kansas and get into Spelling, Clint had intended on filling his stomach and climbing into bed to call it an early night. The little restaurant connected to the hotel allowed him to carry out the first part of his plan, but Mark Rowlett’s shouting had cut short the second.
    As he walked into the saloon, Clint didn’t even make it to the bar before the short fellow tending it had locked eyes with him.
    â€œYou staying at that hotel across the street?” the bartender asked.
    Clint looked around a bit just to make sure he was the one in the bartender’s sights. Judging by the edge in the shorter man’s voice, he must have had some pressing business to relay. Seeing that he was the intended target, Clint let out a sigh and nodded. “Yeah. I’m staying at that hotel.”
    â€œSomeone was in here grousing about you.”
    â€œI suspected it might be something like that,” Clint mumbled.
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œNever mind. Thanks for letting me know.”
    Clint stepped up to the bar and rolled his head back and forth to loosen up his neck. As much as he enjoyed long rides, they played hell on him when the temperature dropped the way it had over the last few days.
    The bartender leaned both hands against his edge of the bar. Now that he’d stepped up to stand directly in front of Clint, it was easy to see he was even shorter than Clint had first guessed. In fact, the bartender was standing on a crate situated behind the bar.
    â€œYou know how I knew you were the man that was being groused about?” the bartender asked with a twinkle in his eye.
    Clint leaned forward to get a better look behind the bar. It wasn’t just a crate set up back there for the short man, but an entire platform that covered most of the floor behind the bar and led to a ramp that would put him back onto the regular floor when he walked around the bar.
    â€œCome on,” the bartender asked as if he was about to burst. “You know how I knew?”
    â€œNo,” Clint finally conceded. “How’d you know?”
    Proudly, the bartender ran a finger along the side of his face and then pointed to that same spot on Clint’s face. “Your scar. The man who groused about you mentioned a scar and I picked up on it right away.”
    Clint reflexively touched the scar on his cheek and nodded. Most of the times, he even forgot the scar was there. “Oh yeah,” he said. “Real observant.”
    The bartender straightened his back and nodded. If his arms were a bit longer, he would have been able to pat himself on