Free High Valley Manhunt: Laramie Davies #1 by B. S. Dunn Page B

Coltrain, “Just to
clean him up a little.”
    The
younger Coltrain sneered, “Hell no. Be happy with the fact he
is still alive. It's more than he deserves and more than my brother
got.”
    He
turned and walked away.
    As she
returned her attention back to Laramie, a canteen appeared in front
of her eyes. Sally looked up as Orson Blake stood over her.
    He
smiled warmly, “Here, take it.”
    Sally
took the canteen and asked hopefully, “Can you help me?”
    Blake
shook his head sadly, “No, I'm sorry. I should not have even
given you that.”
    He
turned away without another word and walked off.

    *

    “Cato,”
Harbin called out, “Where in hell are you?”
    The
outlaw emerged from the dark as he buttoned his flies, “I'm
here, stop yellin.”
    Harbin
pointed at Slate's cooling body, “Get rid of that will you,
before it starts stinkin' up the place. After that, keep an eye on
the girl. When we ride in the mornin', she's comin' with us.”
    Cato
looked at Harbin, the look on his face said, you shot him, you get
rid of him, but decided against voicing his opinion. Instead, he bent
down, took the body by the hands and dragged Slate unceremoniously
out of camp.
    Harbin
looked around for Benny and found him going through Laramie's
belongings.
    “What
in hell are you doin' kid?” Harbin asked curiously.
    “Just
lookin',”Benny said without an upward glance.
    “Just
remember, any money you find gets split,” Blackie warned him.
    Benny
straightened up, unhappy, “What about his guns, can I have
them?”
    Harbin
shrugged, “Sure, why not.”
    Benny
unbuckled his scarred Peacemakers and strapped on Laramie's
Remingtons. He tied the rawhide thongs about his thighs and fiddled
with the gun belt until it felt comfortable.
    He
smiled at Harbin, “There, now I'm a damned legend too.”
    Harbin
shook his head in bemusement, “Takes more than a gun to make a
man, kid.”
    Benny's
ugly stare burned holes in Blackie Harbin's back as he walked away.

    *

    Soon
after sun up, the mountain air was cool and fresh with the scent of
pine and wood smoke. The horses stamped their feet, eager to be on
the trail. Laramie had spent a cold, uncomfortable night with his
hands tied behind his back.
    In the
aftermath of his beating, everything hurt. His ribs were tender from
the Judge's kicks and his face bore the signs of Shell's attack. His
lips were cut and tender, and one eye was bruised and swollen. The
small cut above his temple had stopped bleeding, but the residual
headache was testament to the Judge's kick that had caught him in the
side of his head.
    Laramie
rolled so he could face Sally, his muscles screamed with the effort
and a low moan escaped his battered lips.
    “How
are you doin' Sally?” he whispered so his voice wouldn't carry.
    “I'm
scared,” she answered honestly, “What will happen to me?”
    Laramie
tried to reassure her, “Just do what they say and you'll be
fine. Don't make any trouble or give them any excuse to hurt you.
When I can get away from these men, I'll come after you.”
    “But
how? How are you going to get away? If you try, they'll kill you,”
the tears welled in her large brown eyes.
    “If
I don't escape, they'll make me swing from a rope,” he said
with a grim expression, “So I don't have much choice.”
    “There's
something else,” Sally said tentatively.
    Laramie
waited for her to continue.
    “I
heard two of them talking last night while you were asleep. They were
talking about …..,” Sally paused to gather herself,
“Blackie Harbin shot Lonesome. I'm so sorry Laramie, he shot
him dead.”
    The
news hit him like a locomotive. The physical blows that he'd received
the night before did not hurt the way this did. He felt an
overwhelming sadness at the loss of his friend, quickly followed by a
huge sense of guilt. If he hadn't gone there with the pursuers on his
trail, the old man would still be alive.
    Sally
watched as Laramie's face changed. She could see it in his eyes
first, as the