Nick’s round was less than an inch off its mark. It would have caught Kinman in the face, if the bounty hunter hadn’t been sighting along the top of his rifle. Because of that, Nick’s bullet ricocheted off the rifle and knocked the stock against Kinman’s shoulder and head. The impact, harder than a punch, caused Kinman to wobble in his saddle. A few more shots went off, but none of them hit him. In fact, Kinman didn’t even hear any lead flying past him. He saw Nick walking in the opposite direction and firing at something in the distance. Kinman took that opportunity to get his rifle back up to his shoulder and take a shot of his own.
Nick had figured that he had a few seconds to try and drop Lester while Kinman was shaking off the knock to the face. Once those seconds were up, Nick turned and found himself looking down the wrong end of Kinman’s rifle.
Gritting his teeth, Kinman squeezed his trigger. All he got for his effort was the gut-wrenching clack of metal slapping down on metal.
Nick had taken his shot as well, but had done so on the assumption that he was about to be killed. Aiming quickly, he fired and sent his bullet to the larger target of Kinman’s torso.
The bullet slammed into Kinman’s body like a kick from a mule. It sent him rolling backward from his saddle as the rifle flew from his hand. Sliding down his horse’s flank, Kinman threw his arms out and braced himself for the landing. When he opened his eyes again, Nick was standing over him.
Glaring down as the blood rushed through his veins, Nick pointed the modified Schofield directly between Kinman’s eyes.
Kinman let out a hacking, grunting laugh that shook his whole body. That, combined with the fresh bullet wound and the fall from the horse, was enough to send him straight into unconsciousness.
TWENTY-ONE
Kinman didn’t expect to wake up. Part of him had thought he might have a chance if Lester had a loyal bone in his body, but that hope lasted about as long as the proverbial candle in the wind. When he did wake up, Kinman was able to move, but that only brought him a torrent of pain that hit him hard enough to drop him flat onto his back.
“I was just about to check on you,” said a voice nearby.
Sucking in a breath, Kinman pressed a hand to his wounded side and sat up. He was still in the same spot where he’d landed and his pistol was lying nearby. Another quick check told him that his backup pistol and knife had been taken from him.
“I figured you’d be long gone.” Kinman grunted. “Actually, I figured you would have killed me while I was out.”
Nick’s coat was off and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. He took off his hat, swiped some of the long, graying hairs from his face and cleared away the sweat from his brow. “Seems like you’ve got an angel on your shoulder today. With that kind of luck on your side, my gun might have blown up in my hand if I tried to kill you.”
Kinman squinted and choked back another wave of pain. “A killer talking about angels, huh? I guess I have heard it all.”
Nick was quiet for a few seconds before he shrugged and rolled his sleeves back down.
“Where’s Lester?” Kinman asked.
“He got away.”
“Oh yeah. I recall that much. He also got your horse. Seems like one of us is stranded here.” Just as he said that, Kinman spotted Kazys doing his best to graze on some dry brush not too far away. “I thought I saw him take your horse.”
“He did,” Nick said with a chuckle. “At least, he tried. He got about twenty yards before I let out a whistle and the old boy came running right back to me. I guess Lester’s priorities have changed if he actually let this horse go rather than steal it.”
Kinman’s eyes darted toward the grave. Rather than the gaping hole and splintered planks that had been there before, there was now a neat pile of dirt. One of the planks was leaning against Nick’s leg. “You stayed here to fill in that hole?”
Nodding, Nick said, “I just got finished. It was a little rough without a proper shovel, but I made do. I am a professional, you know.”
Kinman struggled to his feet and winced as more pain shot through him. Grabbing his side, he found some blood, but not nearly as much as he’d expected. A quick look down there was enough to show him that torn scraps from his own shirt had been used to wrap up the wound.
“It was messy, but nothing serious,” Nick said. “The bullet passed through and might have cracked a rib or two. Nothing too bad.”
“Speak for yourself. You’re not the one who feels like his damn ribs are on fire.”
“No,” Nick said as he turned his head and pointed to the bloody pulp hanging from his ear. “I’m the one who’s missing a piece of my head that won’t grow back.”
Squinting to observe the damage he’d caused, Kinman grunted. “Yeah. I guess we’re even. So that’s where your friend’s buried?”
“Yep.”
“And were the stories true? I mean, was there some kind of treasure buried in there with him? The Reaper’s Fee?”
Nick nodded solemnly as he looked back to the newly repaired grave. “Those stories were true, all right.”
Kinman flinched and took a few steps toward the grave. “I suppose you reclaimed it?”
“No,” Nick said as his hand drifted toward the gun at his side.
Snarling through clenched teeth, Kinman said, “Fucking Lester. Who the hell would have thought that little prick had it in him to get those damn jewels and actually get away from the both of us?” His head turned as he glanced around the area. When he turned back around to find Nick calmly sipping from his canteen, he added, “You’re pretty calm for a man who lost all that money.”
“It wasn’t my money.”
“I know. You and Cobb stole it. At least, that’s how the story goes.”
Nodding slowly, Nick admitted, “That story’s right.”
“And you’re just willing to let it go after coming all this way to claim it?”
“I didn’t come to claim the money. I came to make certain my friend’s grave wasn’t dug up so his body could be torn apart by a bunch of wolves. I’ve seen that happen before, and it ain’t pretty.”
Kinman stared at Nick as if he didn’t know what to make of him. He looked at the grave and saw how the ground had been piled up and leveled off to an almost perfect slope. He then looked back to Nick, whose face was calm and wearing a subtle smile. Then, Kinman reached for his gun.
“You pick up that pistol and I’ll finish the job I started,” Nick said simply. “Since I know you’re out to claim the price on my head, I don’t have any problem with leaving you out here for the wolves. Like I said, that ain’t pretty.”
Freezing with his pistol inches from his grasp, Kinman asked, “Why’d you keep me alive?”
“Would you rather I didn’t?”
“No, it’s just peculiar. You’re no fool, Graves. I know that much simply because a fool couldn’t have walked through as much hell as you have and still live to see another sunrise. We were shooting at each other a little while ago and now we’re sitting and talking like neighbors. At the very least, I would have figured you’d keep my weapon from me.”
“You can have them all back if you like,” Nick said. “The rifle’s bent to hell, so it won’t do you much good.”
As he got to his feet, Kinman gritted his teeth and used the pain in his side to spur him on. Once standing, he pressed his hand against his wound to find it was pretty much as Nick had described it.
Kinman picked up his gun smoothly and quickly enough to get it in his hand before Nick could react. He wasn’t quick enough to take aim, however, before Nick had drawn his modified Schofield and pointed it directly at him.