Valley of the Gun (9781101607480) by Ralph W. Cotton

broken skin. Both sides of his face were scraped and swollen; he held a wet bandanna to his broken nose. Even his hands were scraped and bloody.
    â€œI ought to shoot that cayuse where he stands,” Hall said in a strained and broken voice.
    â€œHell, it weren’t the horse’s fault,” said the black teamster. “You spooked before he did. He was just doing what a horse does—”
    â€œDamn it, Almond,” said Hall, cutting him off, “I know what a horse
does.”
He lowered the bandanna from his face. “Look at me now.” He gestured toward his broken foot. “I can’t lead a posse the shape I’m in.”
    â€œThat’s for damned sure,” said Arlis Fletcher with a flat smile beneath his thin mustache. “I’d say this outing is about to wind itself down.” He stood up and slapped dust from his bearskin coat. He turned with the others as Sam, the woman and Dee Ragland walked up.
    Hall appeared embarrassed as he acknowledged the Ranger and shook his ragged bloody head.
    â€œRanger, I don’t know what come over me. I never panicked like that in my life.”
    â€œYou don’t owe me an explanation,” Sam said, stooping down beside him. “Looks like they’re going to have to get you back to Whiskey Bend, have the doctor there set that foot.”
    â€œI know,” said Hall, “I wish I could stay on here, but damn, this is a bad one.” He looked up at the woman standing beside Sam. “Who’s your lady friend?”
    Sam started to introduce Mattie to the sheriff, but before he could, Arlis Fletcher stepped close to her and eyed her up and down.
    â€œSay, I know this one,” he said. “She was in town the day before the robbery. I saw her talking to Lightning Wade secretlike beside the mercantile store.”
    The men turned their eyes to Mattie. Fletcher’s hand instinctively moved closer to his holstered Colt. Sam saw Mattie’s hand drift near the big knife sheathed across her belly. Noting how close Fletcher had put himself to the woman, Sam edged himself between the two and eyed the gunman up and down the same way Fletcher had just eyed Mattie.
    â€œShow some manners, mister,” Sam said to Fletcher in a low warning tone. As he spoke, his hand slowly drew his own big Colt and held it loosely at his side.
    Fletcher settled a little and took a step back, knowing that at any second the Ranger’s Colt would take a hard swipe at his jaw.
    â€œThere’s my manners,” said Fletcher, spreading his hands slightly. “Now ask her, see if she denies it.”
    â€œI’m not asking her anything,” Sam said.
    â€œRanger,” said Hall quietly, “she was in my town, talking to a man before he took part in a bank robbery—I’ve got a right to ask.”
    Sam started to object, but Mattie stopped him.
    â€œIt’s all right, Ranger,” she said. “Sheriff, I
was
talking to Lighting Wade in your town,” she said. “I’ve known Wade for a long time.”
    â€œOh?” said Hall. “What was you talking about?”
    â€œIt wasn’t about robbing the bank,” Mattie said. “You’ve got my word on that.”
    â€œYour word, huh?” Fletcher said. He gave a sly, nasty grin, again looking her up and down.
    â€œYou heard her the first time,” Sam said, not liking the gunman’s accusing tone. “Keep acting the way you’re acting, you better have an empty shirt pocket.”
    â€œThe hell is that supposed to mean?” Fletcher asked, backing another step as the Ranger eased forward.
    Well aware of the Ranger’s reputation for swinging a gun barrel, Sheriff Hall cut in, “Meaning he’s fixing to knock your damned teeth out, you fool. Now shut up before I tell him to go ahead and—”
    â€œI’d like to see him try,” said Fletcher, suddenly taking a stand, his feet spread