right cross to the head.
Although Westin was hurt by the last blow, he had enough of his wits about him to catch Clintâs incoming punch. The sound of knuckles slapping against his left palm still hung in the air when Westin tightened his grip around Clintâs fist. âYou made a whole lot of mistakes here, boy,â he snarled into Clintâs face.
When Clint tried to pull his hand free, he only felt Westinâs grip become even tighter. Already, sharp jolts of pain shot up through his arm.
âYou picked the wrong saloon to come into,â Westin said. âYou opened your mouth when you shouldâa kept it shut. And you raised a hand to a man who can put you six feet under anytime he chooses.â
Clint balled up his other fist and took a swing at Westin. That punch bounced off the big manâs side, and before Clint could follow up, the bones in his trapped hand were mercilessly ground together. Even though Clint was able to stand up in front of the bigger man, he couldnât do much else at that moment.
âLook at the idiot you stuck your neck out for,â Westin said. âHe donât even have enough of a brain to know when he should run. It ainât like heâll get many more chances after this little dance.â
Sure enough, Leo had his back to the wall of shelves behind the bar as though he were stuck there by half a barrel of glue.
âIâll only say this one more time,â Clint said. âLeave now.â
âAnd Iâll say this one more time: Or what?â
âOr I draw the pistol that Iâve left in its holster this long just to keep this from getting too messy.â
Westinâs eyes darted downward to verify Clintâs claim. The Colt wasnât easy to miss, and though he wasnât shocked to see it there, Westin let go of Clintâs hand. âThat brings us right back around to where we started.â
âYou mean about whether or not Iâve got the sand to pull a trigger?â Clint asked. âCan you look in my eyes and have any doubt of that?â
Westin took a look for himself, and before he could respond to what he saw, someone spoke up from a few paces behind him.
âYou shouldnât doubt me on that count,â the woman whoâd been on the stage not too long ago said. She held her pistol in a two-handed grip and stared at Westin over the top of its barrel. When he positioned himself so he could shift his gaze between her and Clint, Westin said, âI shouldâve guessed youâd need the help of a woman, boy.â
âJust get the hell out of my sight,â Clint replied.
Westin casually turned to look at Leo, who was still glued to the wall behind the bar. âYou remember what I told you before we was interrupted?â
âYes,â Leo replied.
âThen Iâm done here.â Westin turned his back on all the guns in the room as if none of them were capable of making him bleed, and he walked out through the front door.
Once he was certain the big man wasnât about to come back, Clint looked over at the woman and asked, âWhat took you so damn long?â
SIX
It wasnât until after heâd drunk the beer heâd been given that Clint actually took a good look at the woman whoâd been on the stage when heâd first arrived. Before then, either she was on the opposite side of the room, or he was more interested in the gun sheâd been carrying. Now that the storm had passed and she was right in front of him, he could see that she was much younger than heâd originally thought.
âIâm so sorry,â she said.
âFor what?â Clint asked.
âFor taking so long to get to you. I guess I was just a bit scared.â
Clint set his beer down and said, âI was just riled up when I asked you that. You came in at just the right time. That big ape needed to be knocked around a bit before he would go quietly. Any sooner and he