Lawman from Nogales (9781101544747) Read Online Free

you!”
    An ambush? Page looked stunned. No! No! Don’t tell him that! he shouted to himself, staring wide-eyed, startled, confused. Damn it to hell!
    What’s she doing? He stood in a crouch at the back of the protecting adobe wall.
    â€œBehind the wall!” Erin shouted, seeing the Ranger turn toward her from where he stood, ready to step up into his saddle.
    Sam saw her finger pointing toward the adobe wall as she ran toward him, her long red hair streaming back on a hot wind.
    Jesus! She’s gone nuts! Page swung his eyes away from the woman, back toward the Ranger, knowing he had only a second to make his move now that he’d been exposed.
    â€œDamn it!” he shouted angrily at himself. “I knew it! I knew it!” He never should have trusted this jack-potting wench. He took quick aim and squeezed the trigger.
    From the window of the cantina, Three-Hand Defoe turned to the bartender and frantically shouted orders. “Freddie, get out there and help him! The woman has given him up!”
    Drinkers hurried to the open window, the open front doors and slipped out onto the boardwalk as Page’s rifle shot resounded along the empty street.
    Thanks to the woman, Sam had seen Page swing the rifle at him. In that split second, instead of going into his saddle, he kicked himself away from the dun’s side just in time to feel the bullet slice past him, mere inches from his chest.
    The dun reared slightly as Sam hit the ground and rolled away, another rifle shot kicking up dirt behind him. In the middle of the street, the woman shrieked and dived to the ground at the sound of the rifle fire. Sam stopped rolling and lay prone on his stomach, facing the rifleman with his Colt out arm’s length, cocked and aimed.
    A third rifle shot hit the dirt beside him as the big Colt bucked in the Ranger’s hand. Sam aimed again, watching through the veil of dust rising around him. He saw that his shot had hit the crouched gunman in his right shoulder, the impact strangely forcing him to a stand.
    Page let out a painful yelp, slinging his rifle to the side, offering the Ranger his exposed chest as a target. Sam made the second shot and saw it knock the gunman back a step. The third shot hit only inches from the second. The fourth shot did the same.
    Page slammed against a rough sun-bleached plank wall, leaving a smear of blood glistening in the stark white sunlight as his body slid down the barrier. A few feet away, a donkey bucked and brayed, managing to break free from a hitch rail. It ran bucking and braying out of sight down a darkened alleyway.
    Â 
    In the dusty street, Erin rose onto her knees, dirt covering her face, strands of her long red hair and the front of her gingham dress. She stared, blinking her eyes in disbelief at the long smear of blood running down the plank wall, at the drift of dark rifle smoke looming in the dust-filled air.
    â€œStay down, ma’am,” Sam said, running to her in a crouch, his Colt still smoking and still poised toward the downed gunman. Coming to a stop kneeling beside her, he placed a protective hand on her back. “Are you all right?” he questioned. His eyes scanned the street both ways, then snapped back to the body lying slumped against the plank wall.
    â€œYe—yes, I think so,” said the woman. She pushed her red hair back from her face and stared toward Matten Page, seeing him suddenly give out a wet rattling cough.
    â€œStay here, ma’am,” Sam said.
    For some reason she wanted to grab his arm, not let him leave her side, but he was off and gone before she could act. Wait! she shouted silently, rising into a crouch herself and running along behind him in spite of what he’d instructed her to do. From the well, the dun loped closer to the Ranger, stopped a few feet away and stood watching.
    The Ranger loomed over Matten Page, his Colt pointed down at the mortally wounded outlaw.
    Page coughed up a spray of