Free Texas Blood Feud by Dusty Richards Page A

his redwood grips in his right fist. When he reached their horses, there were three of them in all.
    Good. Three he might handle with an element of surprise in his favor. He crept closer, hearing their guarded talking. Outbursts of cuss words and what they planned to do to him and the others filled the air. He eased in behind where they lounged behind some large boulders. Their rifles were set aside and they smoked roll-your-owns. The tobacco smell came on the wind to him. None of them could get to a rifle if he got the drop on them. He only knew one. Kenny, a couple years older than Roy. The others might be Campbells.
    “I want first shot at that damn Chet. I’ll blow his ass out of the saddle and send him to hell,” Kenny said.
    “Stand tall and hands high!” Chet ordered, filled with a new fury over those words.
    “Huh?”
    “Make a move and you’ll join Roy. Now, one-handed, drop those gun belts. My finger’s itching to cause another funeral so be quick.” They obeyed, looking at each other and wondering how bad off their situation might be at his hands. “Now sit on the ground and take off your boots.”
    “What?”
    He brandished the revolver at them to punctuate his orders. “You heard me.” He collected the good Winchesters—brand-new, out of the box. “Now shed your pants, vest, and shirts.”
    They made faces of disbelief at his orders, but obeyed.
    “Now the underwear.”
    “It’s cold out here,” one of the Campbells said, stripping off his long underwear.
    “Not near as cold as you’ll be.”
    “We ain’t done nothing to you—”
    “No, you just were going to shoot me in the back a few minutes ago.”
    “No, no, not me—”
    “You boys get in the middle of the creek and start running south. You try to get out on the bank, I’m going shoot you.”
    “Hell, it’s like ice!”
    Chet nodded. “This is a lesson. I want you to remember it well. You try to ambush me again or hurt my family, you’ll be dead instead of wading cold water.”
    He herded them in the water. They were already screaming in high-pitched voices in the knee-deep water. “Now run like hell right down this creek.”
    He fired a shot in the ground close to the oldest Campbell, who jumped back and fell in the water. Getting in, Reynolds went facedown and popped up shivering. The third one got his at the next falls, stumbling over a boulder and his feet shooting out from beneath him. Chet had switched to a rifle, shooting to the right and left of them to keep them in the creek. They soon were out of sight, yelling and screaming and cussing.
    He gathered the rifles, clothes, and went back to the horses. Leading them westward, when he was satisfied the naked ambushers couldn’t find them, he cut each cinch and let the saddles and pads fall on the ground. He took off their bridles and threw them on the saddles. Mounted on Strawberry with his three new rifles tied in a bundle, he drove the loose ponies south until he knew they’d find their way home long before the boys crawled in. Then he headed for home.
    Reg was rumbling the wagon up the valley with his two outriders. Those big mares could cover ground and had lots of wind. They’d made good time.
    “Any bushwhackers?” Reg asked, reining up.
    “Three.”
    “What did you do to them?”
    “I took their horses and sent them home naked.”
    Reg shook his head in amusement. “That should be a big lesson.”
    “Oh, they had to swim down the creek below the ford, too.”
    “It ain’t that deep.”
    “No, but you couldn’t stand up either and run it with a fella shooting at your heels.”
    “Whew, that would be cold,” J.D. said. “Who were they?”
    “Kenny and two of the Campbells.”
    “I guess they’ve got the whole clan after us?” Reg asked, propping a boot on the dash.
    “Sounds like it.” J.D shook his head as if it was too hard for him to fathom.
    “If this celebration is over, take us to the house. I don’t know who is the most childish, you