Free the Mountain Valley War (1978) by Louis - Kilkenny 03 L'amour Page A

was quiet.
    The Hatfield place lay in a cuplike depression surrounded on three sides by high, rocky walls that leaned inward so there was no way to get atop them and fire down without risking a dangerous fall from the steep, smooth sloping rock atop the cliffs. On the other side there were scattered boulders.
    There were two openings in the cliffs, one at the back of the house, the other at the side where they now were. Emerging from a split in the rock, they must race across open ground to the protection of the rock-walled barn and rock corrals. The house lay behind them.
    Hale's men were scattered among the boulders, but they had been stopped there by Parson Hatfield and O'Hara.
    From their present position they had two alternatives. They could make the break across the floor of the Cup, covered by fire from the house, or they could manage a flank attack on the men among the boulders.
    Not more than five acres lay in the bottom of the Cup, a spot not unlike Trent's own, but farther down the mountain. There was here, as in his own place, a fine cold spring. However, if a rifleman could get up close to the front of those rocks, he could stop all movement in the bottom of the Cup. It was the weak spot of the stronghold.
    Those men had to be disloged, and it could only be done from where Trent and Quince now were. Leaving their horses in a sheltered position, they edged forward, Indian-style, until they could look down into the nest of boulders. There were a half-dozen men there, and they could see but one of them. Then another moved forward, and instantly Quince fired.
    The man stumbled and fell. Got up, dragging a leg, and fell again, this time behind a boulder.
    Trent saw a boot projecting from behind a rock and let it have one. There was a yell, and the boot disappeared. Trent could see what was probably the remains of a heel still lying on the rust-red rock.
    Suddenly it dawned on the attackers that their position was no longer tenable, and as one man they fled. Quince put a shot among them to hurry them along, and Trent held his fire, watching.
    A few minutes later they were mounted, riding away. At least one man was cursing at the pain of a wounded leg.
    They waited, watching, but there was no further sound, no further movement.
    "Drove 'em off, I reckon," Quince said, "but they'll be back."
    "That they will," Trent agreed. "And we've got to get us a man out in those boulders or up here where he can cover them."
    Quince spat. "Trent, you're a good man, but you're showin' 'em mercy and they don't deserve it"
    "You're right, and they don't. Trouble is, Quince, every man of them is alive. He's got his dreams, his hopes, his ambitions. Some of them have womenfolks who wait for them. A bullet is an end to all of it and I don't like to use that bullet unless I must."
    "I reckon you're right, Trent, but they're comin' at us, we ain't a-comin' at them."
    Trent got up and brushed off his pants. "When the time comes, I'll do what needs to be done, Quince, don't worry about that
    "Right now I think some of those boys are ready to draw their time and ride out of here. It's one thing to carry a gun and talk fight, it's another when the lead starts to fly and you know it can be you.
    "Two of them are out of action, anyhow, and I think some of the others are having second thoughts. If it comes to that, I'll have to go get Dunn and Ravitz myself."
    Quince glanced at him- "You reckon you could? The two of them?"
    "I could, Quince. Indeed, I could."
    "And Cub Hale?"
    Trent hesitated. "He's another matter, another matter altogether."

    Chapter 8
    When he thought about it, he realized he had never doubted his ability to beat another man. It was a part of his strength, he was sure. He was gifted with uncommon speed of hand, steadiness of nerve, and the ability to shoot instinctively. He sometimes aimed with a rifle, he never did with a six-gun. He just drew, pointed as he would with a finger, and fired.
    Yet he was intelligent enough to know