Free Ball and Chain by J. R. Roberts Page A

you’re gonna pay if you don’t—”
    â€œLet the old man go,” Clint shouted from the shadows surrounding the house. After bolting through the door leading from the kitchen, he’d run around to get a look at who was causing all the commotion. Clint had his suspicions as soon as he’d left the house, but now he saw he was correct. “Your fight is with me.”
    Acklund snapped his head toward Clint while trying to cover the surprise on his face. He did a terrible job, but forced himself to smile arrogantly anyway. “You think we’d forget about you killing our brother?”
    That choice of words made Clint nervous. The fact that Acklund had said “our” instead of “my” made him suspicious that the third man from the ambush was lurking about somewhere. Sure enough, Mose’s blond hair stood out from one of the dark spots in the trees not too far away.
    â€œYour brother died while trying to steal my horse,” Clint pointed out. “He would have been strung up for such a thing no matter where he was caught. Besides, if you’d stuck around to see, you would have known that I didn’t shoot him. He broke his own neck!”
    â€œThat don’t matter!” Acklund said. “He’d still be alive if it weren’t for you.”
    â€œYou mean if I would have just let you men rob me?” Clint asked. “If you’re expecting me to regret what happened, you’ll be waiting a long time.”
    â€œFine. No more waiting, then.”
    Clint had been hoping to put an end to the shooting to prevent Ellie or Hank from catching a stray bullet. He’d also hoped to keep Acklund talking long enough for any town law to come and check on the gunshots that had already been fired. The instant Clint saw the gleam in Acklund’s eye, however, he knew it was too late for any of that. There would be more shots fired and he couldn’t afford to wait around for anyone to help.
    Clint reached for his Colt and cleared leather in a fraction of a second. He kept the gun at hip level so he could fire off a round without wasting time to aim. Acklund fired as well and both shots hissed through the air like a pair of angry wasps.
    Acklund dropped, but Clint knew he hadn’t been the one to put him on his back. Rather than fall over like a man that had been shot, Acklund fell to one knee so he could fire again. By the time Acklund got around to pulling his trigger, Clint was already on the move.
    Knowing that Mose was still out there, Clint fired a shot in the last direction he’d seen the big blond man. He didn’t hear a yelp of pain and didn’t even hear a gunshot from that direction, which made Clint suspect Mose had already picked another spot. Clint fired another bullet toward the trees anyway, followed by another shot at Acklund to buy himself enough time to make it to some cover.
    The only other thing on the porch was an old swing, so Clint ducked behind it and quickly replaced the spent rounds in his Colt with fresh bullets from his gun belt. Just as he was finished reloading, Clint heard the thunderous bang of the front door being kicked open.
    â€œClear off my property right now!” Hank roared as he fired a shotgun blast into the air.
    â€œGet back in the house!” Clint hollered.
    â€œThe hell I will!” Hank replied before firing off his second barrel.
    Since Clint couldn’t see in the dark well enough to know if Hank had hit anything, he waited until the older man pulled the spent shell casings from his shotgun. Once Hank was busy with that, Clint rushed over to him and knocked him back into the house with his shoulder. Hank was still cussing up a storm when Clint stepped back outside and pulled the door shut behind him.
    Another shot was fired from the shadows, but Clint couldn’t get a look at who’d fired it. Both Acklund and Mose had retreated far enough into the trees that they couldn’t