Free Cross Draw by J. R. Roberts

can get. When I outdraw and kill the Gunsmith, I want everybody to see.”
    â€œYou still got that weird gun?”
    â€œWhat’s weird about my Peacemaker?” Dillon asked. He took it out and put it on the table. Because his hands were so large, and his fingers so big, he’d had the trigger replaced with a larger one. He’d had the butt extended, and the holster adjusted to accommodate those changes.
    â€œLook at it,” Quentin said, “I couldn’t fire that accurately.”
    â€œThat’s good,” Dillon said, putting the gun back in his holster. “Less chance my own gun can ever be used against me.”
    â€œAre we done here?” Raymond said. “I wanna get some food, and then a whore.”
    â€œI wanna ride with you tomorrow,” Quentin said.
    â€œWell,” Dillon said, standing up, “come and eat with us and we’ll talk about that.”

TWENTY-THREE
    Dillon went to the whorehouse with Raymond, and while his partner picked out a pretty little blonde who weighed barely ninety pounds—and looked “clean”—Dillon could not find a girl big enough for his needs. He’d been spoiled by Candy from Denby a couple of days ago. Instead, he left the whorehouse and went back to the saloon—the one with the cold beer.
    Quentin wasn’t there when he walked in, but Dillon had already agreed to let his old partner tag along.
    â€œI just wanna see it,” Quentin said. “I wanna see you gun the Gunsmith.”
    â€œI told you,” Dillon said, “the more witnesses the better.”
    Dillon went to the bar and ordered a beer. In the mirror, he saw the batwings open, and a man walked in. When he turned to come to the bar, Dillon saw the badge. He didn’t know the man, but he was well acquainted with what he stood for.
    Sheriff Cal Evans stood at the bar a few spaces from Dillon and ordered a beer.
    â€œQuiet town,” Dillon said to Evans.
    â€œUsually.”
    â€œHeard you had some excitement a few days ago,” Dillon said.
    â€œHeard that, did ya?” Evans asked. “What’d you hear, exactly?”
    â€œHeard the Gunsmith was in town,” Dillon said. “That he gunned a man.”
    â€œWell, yeah,” Evans said, over his beer, “that’s true.”
    â€œHeard he did it left-handed.”
    Evans stared at Dillon, sipping his beer.
    â€œThat I can’t tell ya,” the lawman said. “I didn’t see it.”
    â€œMust’ve been a big crowd.”
    â€œActually, no,” Evans said. “It happened so fast, nobody in town saw it.”
    â€œI heard some women saw it.”
    â€œWell, yeah,” Evans said, “but they were with Adams. And they all left town, after.”
    Well, that pretty much confirmed everything Dillon had heard so far. Now he needed to find out if the sheriff knew anything extra.
    Â 
    Clint poured coffee for everyone, and then held his cup while Rosemary filled it for him.
    â€œThank you,” he said.
    â€œOh, my God,” Jenny said. “That’s strong coffee.”
    â€œKills any germs that might get into your food,” Clint said.
    â€œWhat?” Morgan said. “What germs?”
    â€œThere are no germs in this food,” Rosemary said aloud.
    She handed out the plates. Clint set his plate on his lap and ate with his left hand. He was able to use his right arm, at least, to keep the plate from sliding off his lap.
    He tasted Rosemary’s beans and bacon and his eyebrows went up. “This is really good, Rosemary,” he said.
    â€œSee?” she said. “Not just regular trail food.”
    â€œSuits me,” Clint said.
    They all ate avidly; the job of cleaning up fell to Jenny.
    While she took the plates and utensils away to clean them, they all had some more coffee, and Clint put another pot on the fire.
    Rosemary said, “I see you’re moving your arm more. Do you have