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There was no reason to think she wouldn’t marry another one here in Texas if she got the chance.
    Of course, she had already stolen a hundred thousand dollars from Alfred Jennings when she killed him, so she probably didn’t need money, but for some people, plenty was never enough. No matter how much they had, they always wanted more, especially when it came to money and power.
    â€œDo you recall the name of MacCrae’s new wife?” Luke asked the storekeeper.
    â€œDon’t know that I ever heard it,” the man replied. “All I know is some of my customers gossiped about ol’ Sam getting himself a young, pretty wife. That’s all I can tell you, mister.”
    â€œThere’s one more thing you can tell me,” Luke said. “How to get to Painted Post.”
    The storekeeper was glad to supply him with directions, especially after Luke bought some supplies. A couple of days’ ride brought him to Painted Post, a sleepy cow town not much different from a hundred others Luke had seen. While he was there, he picked up some more gossip about Sam MacCrae and the rancher’s new wife.
    MacCrae had been a widower for quite a few years, and evidently he had fallen hard for the young woman who had gotten off the train and settled in at the hotel. A whirlwind courtship later, the couple had gotten married in the Painted Post Baptist Church, and the woman—her name was Glory, Luke was told—had gone off to live on the ranch with her new husband.
    All that information combined to convince Luke that he was on the right trail. Glory MacCrae had to be the fugitive murderer Gloria Jennings.
    All he needed to do was get a look at her to be absolutely certain of her identity. Even though it had been a while, in his mind’s eye he could still see the portrait of the woman he had seen on that wanted poster in Major Jones’s office.
    Now, as he stood there with Glory MacCrae’s warm hand gripped in his, he was dead solid sure.

CHAPTER 3
    â€œWelcome to the MC Ranch, Mr. Jensen,” Glory said. “I don’t know what brings you here, but you’ve done us a favor.” She nodded toward the dead man. “This is one less gunnie to do Harry Elston’s bidding.”
    She gave his hand a final squeeze and let go of it. Luke was a little sorry not to be holding her hand anymore. She was the sort of woman whose beauty possessed a raw, primitive power over men, and Luke wasn’t immune to it . . . although he would never let it make his decisions for him, either.
    â€œI don’t know anything about this fella Elston,” he said. “All I know is that somebody in that bunch tried to kill me, and I don’t take kindly to that. Could’ve even been this hombre. If it wasn’t . . .” A cold smile curved Luke’s mouth under the mustache. “Then I reckon he was guilty by association.”
    â€œElston’s men are all guilty of one thing: associating with a skunk.” Glory turned to Pendleton and went on: “Put him on a horse and take him back to headquarters, Gabe. From there one of the men can take the body to Painted Post in a wagon and leave it at the undertaker’s.”
    â€œYou aim to pay for planting him, Miz MacCrae?” the foreman asked.
    â€œNot if there’s enough of Harry Elston’s dirty money in his pockets to pay for a pine box, I don’t,” Glory answered without hesitation. Then she shrugged and added, “But whoever takes the body to town can tell the undertaker that I’ll cover the difference, if there is any.”
    Pendleton’s voice hardened as he said, “I’ll make sure you get an honest accounting, ma’am.”
    â€œThank you, Gabe.” Glory turned back to Luke. “If you’re not in a hurry, Mr. Jensen, I hope you’ll come on to the ranch house with us and have supper. You’re welcome to spend the night in the bunkhouse, as