“There he is,” the madam said as she swept a hand back at Deaugrey. “That’s the man you were after, right? The one that just arrived?”
The man with the cold eyes nodded once. It was a barely perceptible motion that struck anyone who saw it like a jab to the kidney. “He is,” the man said.
“Then take him and go!”
“Hey, now!” Deaugrey said. “A moment ago, you were trying to keep me alive.”
“Not you, you damned fool,” the man growled. “Her girls. She was just trying to make sure her girls stayed alive long enough to pick another man’s pockets.” Shifting his eyes to her, he added, “And they will.”
Wilting like a flower that had been tossed into a fire, the madam lowered her head and sought shelter behind the table where her ledger and ink pen were kept.
“Seems I picked the wrong time to leave my room,” Deaugrey said. “I’ve always insisted that being a coward was severely underrated.”
“You are definitely Mr. Scott,” the man said. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about you and every last one of them mentions that big mouth of yours.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Don’t matter. Shut your fucking hole and drop that pistol.”
Deaugrey prided himself on being able to know more than one way out of any situation. Even more valuable was being able to quickly decide which of those ways to take. He made his choice this time by diving to one side with the most powerful jump he could convince his legs to give him. A shot blazed through the air, tearing through the canvas near Deaugrey’s head and causing one of the girls inside the tent to scream frantically.
As soon as he hit the ground on his chest, Deaugrey scrambled to get his feet beneath him and plow into the next wall. His plan had been to charge straight through one flimsy barrier after another until he was outside. Unfortunately, his gall was more powerful than his sense of direction and Deaugrey wound up stampeding into yet another girl’s room. He caught a glimpse of long red hair and fair skin before his feet knocked against something solid that had been on the ground directly in front of him. Whoever had been huddled there grunted in pain after taking a boot to the ribs. The grunt sounded too deep to be feminine, but Deaugrey wasn’t overly concerned with that since he was already tripping through the next canvas wall.
The next room he came to was much bigger than the first. Instead of the cot that had been in Kaylee’s space, there was an actual bed as well as a dented bathtub filled with cloudy water. What caught Deaugrey’s eye most, however, was the large post next to the tub that ran from floor to ceiling to prop up that section of the tent. Knowing the other man wasn’t far behind him, Deaugrey lowered his shoulder and charged at the post. The wooden support cracked and buckled, but didn’t give way on his first attempt.
Cringing with pain, Deaugrey spotted a wet, naked man and a woman wearing only filmy silk robes. “Why is there always someone nearby to witness my bad ideas?” Deaugrey grumbled. Since he’d come this far, he charged the post again. This time, the damaged support snapped all the way and brought a good portion of the tent down along with it. Deaugrey may have had an aching shoulder, but he’d gotten his bearings well enough to know which way to run this time around.
He exploded from the tent and into the narrow space between the cathouse and the neighboring saloon. Looking around in a daze, Deaugrey smirked when he saw the partially collapsed section of the cathouse tent. There was movement inside and Deaugrey reminded himself that there were several others in there apart from the one man he was worried about. Even as he thought about the women and their paying customers, Deaugrey contemplated firing a few shots into the tent just to tip the scales in his favor.
Whatever part of his ethics that had remained intact over the years kept him from shooting blindly into the tent. He gripped the .38 and thumbed back its hammer. His eyes sighted along the top of the barrel, waiting for even the slightest glimpse of the gunman’s cold eyes or dark clothes.
The saloon behind him had plenty of activity inside of it, but no sign of panic with regard to the dust he’d just kicked up. Yet another thing Deaugrey liked about this camp.
“Grey!” a familiar voice shouted from behind the saloon.
Deaugrey turned to look in that direction to find Nate circling around the back of the saloon while holding his Remington with a steady, straight arm. There was sharp authority in Nate’s tone when he barked, “Down!”
Every reflex in Deaugrey’s body told him to drop, which is precisely what he did. Before his chest could slam against the ground, two quick shots were fired. The first came from Nate and the second came from the front end of the cathouse. Deaugrey clamped his teeth together and gripped the earth with his free hand as if he were in danger of being cast off its surface and thrown into the sky.
More shots exploded back and forth, sending pieces of lead hissing over him. Suddenly, Deaugrey lost his reservations about firing blind and swung his arm back to point the .38 vaguely in the direction of the cathouse while pulling his trigger. The borrowed pistol bucked against his palm, adding an irregular voice to the staccato cracking of shots that came in more precise rhythms.
“Grey, get up, damn you!”
Deaugrey had never been happier to hear Nate’s voice. As soon as he propped himself up, he felt a callused hand grab his free arm and drag him along. Deaugrey allowed himself to be pulled up until he could stand on his own. Just as he got his bearings, he caught a glimpse of Nate’s angry face.
“Don’t stop shooting, you fool!” Sathow shouted.
That was the last thing Deaugrey heard for a while because Nate’s next shot was fired a might too close to his ears. In a strange way, the muffled quagmire of sound that filled Deaugrey’s head was comforting in comparison to what had come before. The gunshots sounded like distant thunder; soothing to him in the same way his own breaths had soothed him in the sanitariums when he’d defiantly starved himself to the point of passing out.
Soon, a ringing blared through his skull to replace the soothing roar. Deaugrey shouted something at Nate that neither man could understand. He extended his arm, pointed the .38 at the dead-eyed gunman who’d stepped into view and pulled his trigger repeatedly. One of their shots must have come close, because the gunman stepped out of sight once again.
Deaugrey pulled his trigger again, but the pistol no longer jerked within his grasp. He’d run out of ammunition somewhere along the way and hadn’t been able to hear when his shots had stopped coming.
Nate’s voice was just another dull roar amid the ringing and other roars. Rather than try to speak to him, Nate shoved Deaugrey aside while reloading his Remington. Nodding as if that would make all the difference, Deaugrey fumbled for the bullets fitted within the loops on the thin belt Frank had given him. The roar was fading away in his ears, which unfortunately made the ringing that much clearer.
Even though Deaugrey’s hands were becoming steadier with every passing second, he hadn’t completely reloaded the .38 by the time Nate walked far enough to see the front entrance of the cathouse. From where he stood, Deaugrey could only watch Nate shift into a sideways stance while raising his pistol to take careful aim. Nate’s voice made it through the ringing in Deaugrey’s ears somewhat, but not enough for him to understand why he lowered his arm and allowed the Remington to slip from his fingers.
“What are you doing?” Deaugrey shouted.
Nate scowled and clasped his fingers behind his head. He put up no resistance when the pair of scruffy miners carrying shotguns stepped up to him and kicked the pistol away. As Nate was saying something to one of the men, the other one cracked him in the back of the head with the shotgun’s stock.
By the time the men looked between the saloon and cathouse, Deaugrey was nowhere to be found.