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“This ain’t good,” Jason said. “I’m beginnin’ to think we’re snake-bit.”

“I don’t know.” Lanny scratched his jaw. “It gives the other side a few more guns, is all.”

“Seven more guns.”

“No sweat.”

Inside the house, Dooley was still ranting and cussing and roaring about what he was going to do to Gage and to his wife. The men outside heard something crash against a wall. Dooley had picked up a vase and shattered it.

The sons were leaning against a hitchrail, giggling and scratching themselves.

“Them boys,” Jason pointed out, “is as goofy as their dad.”

“And just as dangerous,” Lanny added. “Don’t sell them short. They’re all cat-quick with a gun.”

“About the boys ... ?”

“We’ll just kill them when we’ve taken the ranches.”

“Of course you can stay here, Liz,” Alice told her. “And stop saying it will be a bother.” She smiled. “You and Gage. I’m so happy for you.”

“If we survive this,” Liz put a verbal damper on the other woman’s joy.

“We’ll survive it. Oh, Liz!” She took the woman’s hands into hers. “Do you remember how it was when we first settled here? Those first few years before all the hard feelings began. We fought outlaws and Indians and were friends. Then...” She bit back the words.

“I know. I’ve tried to convince myself it wasn’t true. But it was and is. Even more so now. Dooley began to change. Maybe he was always mad; I don’t know. I know only that I love Gage and have for a long, long time. From a distance,” she quickly added. “I just feel like a great weight has been lifted from me.”

“You rest for a while. I’ll get supper started.”

“Pish-posh! I’m not tired. And I want to do my share here. Come on. I’ve got a recipe for cinnamon apple pie that’ll have Cord groaning.”

Laughing, the two women walked to the kitchen.

Outside the big house, Cord briefed Gage and the other men from the D-H about the outlaws’ plans.

Gage shuddered. “Kill the women! God, what a bunch of no-goods. Well, we got out of that snake pit just in time. Cord, me and boys will hep your crew bunch the cattle.” He cut his eyes to Del. “You ’member that box canyon over towards Spitter Crick?”

Del nodded. “Yeah. It’s got good graze and water that’ll keep ‘em for several weeks. That’s a good idea. We’ll get started first thing in the morning. Smoke said him and his boys will be over at first light to hep out. They done got their cattle bunched and safe as they could make ’em.”

“I sent a rider over to tell them about y‘all,” Cord told him. “I ’magine Rita will be comin’ over to stay with her momma. Smoke s already makin’ plans to vacate the Box T. We both figure that’ll be the first spread Dooley will hit, and Smoke ain’t got the men to defend it agin seventy or more men.”

“No, but them men that he’s got was shore born with the bark on,” Gage replied. “I’d shore hate to be in that first bunch that tackles ‘em.”

“They’ll cut the odds down some, for sure,” Del said. “You know,” he reminisced, “I growed up hearin’ stories about Pistol Le Roux and Hardrock and Silver Jim ... and Charlie Starr. Lord, Lord! Till Smoke Jensen come along, I reckon he was the most famous gun-handler in all the West. Hardrock and Pistol and Silver Jim ... why, them men must be nigh on seventy years old. But they still tough as wang leather and mean as cornered grizzlies. It just come to me that we’re lookin’ at history here.”

“Let’s just hope that we all live to read about it,” Cord said drily.

“I think they’ll try us tonight, Smoke,” Charlie said. “My old bones is talkin’ to me.”

“I agree with you.”

“I done tossed my blankets over yonder in that stand of trees,” Pistol said, pointing. “I never did like to sleep all cooped up noways. I like to look at the stars.”

“We’ll all stay clear of the house tonight,” Smoke said. “Fill your pockets with ammunition, boys, and don’t take your boots off. I think tonight is gonna be interesting.”

Bob was in the loft of the barn. Spring and Pat stayed in the bunkhouse, both of them armed with rifles. Lujan was in the barn, lower level. Pistol, Silver Jim, Charlie, and Hardrock were spread around the house. Smoke elected to stay close to the now-empty corral. The horses had been moved away to a little draw; Ring was with them. Beans had slipped into moccasins and was roaming. Parnell was in the house with the women. Rita and Fae were armed with rifles. Parnell refused to take a gun.

About a quarter of a mile from the ranch complex, Beans knelt down in the road and put his ear to the hard-packed earth. He smiled grimly, then stood up. “Coming!” he shouted to Silver Jim, who was the closest to him. “Sounds like a bunch of them, too.”

Silver Jim relayed the message and then settled in, earing back the hammer on his Winchester.

Beans was the first to see the flames from the torches the gunnies carried. “They’re gonna try to burn us out!” he yelled.

Then the hard-riding outlaw gunslingers were thundering past Beans’s position. At almost point-blank range, Beans emptied his six-shooter into the mass of riders, then holstered his pistol and picked up his Winchester. He put five fast rounds into the outlaws, then shifted positions when the lead started flying around him.

Beans knew he’d hit at least three of the riders, and two of them were hard hit and on the ground.

Silver Jim got three clean shots off, with one outlaw on the ground and the other two just hanging on, gripping the saddle horn. Not dead, but out of action.

Bob took his time with his Winchester and emptied two saddles before Lujan hollered, “Another bunch coming behind us, Bob. Shift to the rear.”

Smoke stood by the corral, a dim figure in the torchlit night, with both hands full of long-barreled Colts, and picked his targets. His aim was deadly true. He knocked two to the ground and knew he’d hit several more before being forced to run for cover

A rider threw his torch through a window—only two windows were not shuttered, front and back, giving the women a place to fire from—and the torch landed on the couch. The couch burst into flames and Parnell went to work with buckets of water already filled against such an action. He managed to keep the fire confined to the couch.

The barn was not so lucky. While Lujan and Bob were fighting at the rear of the barn, a rider tossed a torch into the hay loft. That action got him a bullet from Smoke that cut his spine and shattered his heart, but there was no saving the barn. Bob and Lujan fought inside until it became too difficult to see and breathe and they had to run for cover amid a hail of lead.

The small band of defenders of the Box T were now having to fight against range-robbers on all sides. One outlaw made the mistake of finding the horses and thinking he was going to set them free.

One second he was in the saddle, the next second he was on the ground. The last thing he would remember hearing on this earth was a deep voice rumbling, “I do not like people who are mean to nice people.”

Huge hands clamped around the man’s head and with one quick jerk, Ring broke the gunny’s neck and tossed him to one side, his head flopping from side to side. Ring got the rifle from the outlaw’s saddle boot, made sure it was full, and waited for some more action.

The area around the ranch house was now brightly lighted from the flaming barn; too bright for the outlaws’ taste, for the accuracy of the defenders was more than they had counted on.

“Let’s go!” came the shout.

No one bothered to fire at or pursue the outlaws. All ran into the yard to form a bucket line to wet down the roof of the house so sparks from the burning barn could not set it on fire. The men worked frantically, for already there were smouldering spots on the roof.